#for peace and wisdom tomorrow
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dimsilver · 2 years ago
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evajzcks · 10 days ago
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between light and shadow ── tom riddle
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summary: you ran away after discovering you were pregnant during your final year at hogwarts. three years later, you and your son are in danger, and to protect your child, you must return to him, your past lover, tom riddle.
warnings: tom riddle x reader, the timeline is a mess, both tom and reader are 21 in this
word count: 1,8k
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the grand dining hall of the manor was illuminated by a cascade of floating candles, their warm glow contrasting with the heavy, imposing decor. you entered with mattheo’s hand in yours, the little boy wide-eyed as he marveled at the room’s grandeur.
tom was already seated at the head of the table, his piercing gaze softening slightly as he saw them approach. he gestured to the seats beside him and mattheo immediately climbed onto the one closest to tom.
“is this where you always eat?” mattheo asked, his voice filled with innocent curiosity as he looked at the vast table.
tom’s brow furrowed, clearly unprepared for the child’s inquisitiveness. “most of the time,” he replied carefully, his deep voice tinged with an awkward stiffness.
“do you eat alone?” mattheo pressed, his head tilted.
tom hesitated. “yes.”
“that’s sad,” mattheo said matter-of-factly, his bluntness drawing a stifled laugh from you. you quickly masked it with a sip of water, though your eyes sparkled with amusement.
tom shot you a look that was equal parts exasperated and confused before turning back to mattheo. “it’s… practical.”
“what’s practical?” mattheo asked, his small face scrunched in concentration.
tom blinked, clearly unused to being questioned so persistently. “it means… useful. efficient.”
mattheo nodded solemnly, as if tom had just imparted a great wisdom. “do you like being alone?”
this time, tom hesitated longer, his gaze flicking to you as though searching for an answer. you raised an eyebrow, smirking at his discomfort.
“sometimes,” he finally said, his tone quieter.
mattheo tilted his head again. “do you have any friends?”
you nearly choked on your water, quickly covering your mouth to suppress the laugh threatening to escape. tom’s lips twitched, his patience wearing thin.
“i have… associates,” he answered stiffly.
“what’s an associate?”
you let out a soft giggle, unable to hold it in any longer. “mattheo, darling, why don’t we let mr. riddle eat his dinner in peace?”
“but I like asking questions,” mattheo said, looking genuinely puzzled by your suggestion.
“and mr. riddle isn’t very good at answering them,” you teased, your grin widening as you met tom’s glare.
tom’s jaw tightened, but there was a flicker of something else in his expression—an unfamiliar warmth, even as he fought to maintain his composure.
“perhaps i’m simply not accustomed to interrogations during meals,” he said, his tone dry but lacking his usual sharp edge.
“that’s because you’re not used to dining with company,” you quipped, reaching over to ruffle mattheo’s curls.
tom watched them, his gaze lingering on you as you laughed with their son. for a moment, the cold, calculating mask he always wore seemed to slip. he looked almost…human.
“mattheo,” he said, his voice softer now, “do you enjoy living here?”
the little boy shrugged. “it’s okay but mama says we won’t stay forever.”
you stiffened slightly, your eyes darting to tom, who had gone very still. his gaze was sharp as he turned to you, the unspoken question clear in his expression.
“we’ll discuss that later,” you said quickly, your tone firm as you focused on your plate.
mattheo looked between them, clearly sensing the tension but too young to understand its weight. “i like the library,” he said cheerfully, breaking the silence. “it has so many books! did you read all of them?”
tom’s lips curved into a faint smile, the kind that didn’t reach his eyes. “most of them.”
“wow,” mattheo said, his admiration genuine. “can you show me which ones are the best?”
“perhaps tomorrow,” tom replied, his voice softer now, though his gaze remained locked on you.
as the meal went on, mattheo’s questions continued, ranging from “do you like cats?” to, “if you’re so tall, can you touch the sky?”. you found yourself laughing more than you had in months, your heart lightened by your son’s innocence.
but every now and then, you would catch tom watching you, his dark eyes unreadable. you couldn’t tell if he was irritated by mattheo’s endless chatter or if he was quietly mourning the time he had lost with his son.
as they finished dessert, mattheo yawned, his head nodding sleepily against your arm.
“i think someone’s ready for bed,” you said, smiling as she scooped him up into her arms.
“goodnight, mr. riddle,” mattheo mumbled, his eyes half-closed as he rested his head on your shoulder
tom nodded, his gaze following them as you carried mattheo out of the dining hall.
when they were gone, tom leaned back in his chair, staring at the empty space where they had been. he was unaccustomed to the warmth that had settled in his chest during the meal, and he didn’t know whether to embrace it or push it away.
all he knew was that y/n and mattheo had a way of making him feel things he thought he had buried long ago—and it terrified him.
tom sat in silence for a long moment, his fingers drumming absentmindedly on the table. his thoughts swirled with confusion and something deeper, something he didn’t want to acknowledge. the little scene with you and mattheo had unsettled him more than he was willing to admit.
he had lived his life by control, by power—everything within his grasp, manipulated and ordered. but tonight, with mattheo’s innocent questions, the laughter in y/n’s voice, and the unspoken bond between them, it was as though everything he thought he knew had been turned upside down. the reality that he had a son—his son—was still too raw to fully comprehend.
he hadn’t expected this. he hadn’t expected them to feel so… normal. so human.
“this isn’t what i wanted for you,” he whispered to himself, though the words were not directed at anyone in particular.
what was it about you? why did you make him feel things no one else could? the thought lingered in his mind, clinging to him like a shadow. even as his cold, calculating side tried to push it away, something in him resisted, drawn to the warmth you provided despite everything.
minutes passed, and eventually, he stood up, smoothing down the fabric of his robes. his fingers brushed the edge of his wine glass, but he didn’t drink—he wasn’t thirsty. his mind was elsewhere.
fhe sound of mattheo’s soft laughter echoed faintly from the hall as you tucked him into bed, and for a brief moment, tom considered going to check on you—just to see, just to… but the thought vanished quickly, replaced by a sharp twinge of anger.
what would it even mean? to go to you now, to step into their world? was he really ready to acknowledge the life he had never asked for, yet was bound to in a way he could never escape?
he needed to focus, to remember his purpose. his empire, his power—those things mattered, didn’t they? everything else was secondary. everything else was just a distraction.
and yet, the more he tried to focus on his plans, on his goals, the more mattheo’s innocent voice echoed in his mind, asking questions about cats, the sky, and his tallness. it’s ridiculous. he wasn’t even sure how to answer a question like that, but the way mattheo had looked up at him with such trust—it had nearly broken him.
when you returned to the dining hall later, your footsteps barely a whisper on the stone floor, you found tom standing by the grand windows, looking out over the darkened grounds. the moonlight cast long shadows, the silence in the room almost suffocating.
you watched him for a moment before speaking. “you’re thinking too much, tom.”
he didn’t turn, but you could hear the soft exhale of air he released in response.
“i always think,” he replied, his voice low.
you took a few steps toward him, pausing just behind him. for a brief moment, you allowed yourself to watch the way the light hit his profile—the way the years had shaped him, the hard edge of his jawline that once seemed so cold, now softened in the moonlight. despite everything, despite his darkness, there was still something that called to you.
“i didn’t expect mattheo to… be so curious,” he said quietly, almost as if speaking to himself. “he doesn’t fear me like everyone else does.”
you took a breath, your hands folding in front of you “he’s just a child, tom. he sees the world through different eyes.”
“i suppose.” his voice was distant, but you could feel the tension building in him. “i didn’t expect him to want to talk to me.”
“he’s a little like you,” you remarked, your voice soft. “he doesn’t know any better.”
tom looked at you then, the intensity in his gaze sharper than you remembered. “and you? do you still think of me as someone who can be reasoned with?” he asked, his tone suddenly more biting.
your chest tightened, but you met his gaze steadily. “i think of you as a lot of things, tom,” you replied, your voice calm. “but the truth is… you’re not the person i thought you were. you’re not who you showed me you were back then.”
his eyes darkened, but you noticed the flicker of hesitation before he spoke again. “what does that mean?”
“it means that i’m not so sure about you anymore,” you said, your words carrying the weight of the past three years of uncertainty, fear, and betrayal. “you’ve changed… but so have i.”
tom’s gaze hardened, and he took a step closer to you, his presence consuming the space between you. “you still think i’m capable of the things i’ve done,” he said, his voice low, dangerous. “of course, you do.”
“i think you’re capable of more,” you answered, your voice steady. “but that doesn’t mean i trust you.”
tom’s jaw clenched, but there was something else there, something unreadable in his eyes.
“i never wanted you to trust me,” he said, his voice softer now. “i wanted you to understand me.”
you looked at him for a long moment, your heart heavy. “i don’t understand you, tom,” you admitted quietly. “i don’t think I ever will.”
there was silence then, a pregnant pause between them as the distance stretched thin, and yet, despite everything that had happened, there was something that lingered in the air—something neither of them could quite grasp. tom’s fingers twitched as if he wanted to reach for you, but he held back.
and in that moment, you realized that you might never truly understand tom—you might never be able to. but perhaps, just perhaps, that was the very thing that made him so dangerous.
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this is my christmas present to y’all. got so excited writing this that I already wrote the part 2 but i might only publish it in 3 days, so comment if you want to be added to the tag list !!!!!
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writing-reference-redux · 10 months ago
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I felt like sharing my collection of Latin phrases that may make good fanfic or fanart titles or inspiration. Some of the translations may be off, so you might want to double-check them before use. Also, I used capitalization liberally so you might also want to check where capitalization is actually indicated.
Ab Intra (From Within)
Acta Est Fabula (The play has been performed)
Acta Sancti ___ (The Deeds of Saint ___)
Ad Undas (to the waves / to hell)
Advocatus Diaboli (Devil's advocate)
Aegri Somnia (a sick man's dreams / troubled dreams)
Alea Iacta Est (the die has been cast / point of no return)
Apologia Pro Vita Sua (defense of one's life)
Caetera Desunt (the rest is missing)
Cedere Nescio (I know not how to yield)
Damnatio Memoriae (damnation of memory / denying someone ever lived)
De Nobis Fabula Narratur (their story is our story)
Decessit Vita Patris (died before their father)
Diem Perdidi (I have lost the day)
Dies Tenebrosa Sicut Nox (a day as dark as night)
Dolor Hic Tibi Proderit Olim (some day this pain will be useful to you)
Dulce Est Desipere In Loco (It is sweet on occasion to play the fool)
Dum Vivimus, Vivamus (while we live, let us live)
Dux Bellorum (war leader)
Ex Umbra In Solem (from the shadow into the light)
Festina Lente (hurry slowly)
Fortis Cadere, Cedere Non Potest (the brave may fall, but can not yield)
Fui Quod Es, Eris Quod Sum (I once was what you are, you will be what I am)
Graviora Manent (heavier things remain / the worst is yet to come)
Haec Olim Meminisse Iuvabit (one day, this will be pleasing to remember)
Hic Mortui Vivunt (here the dead speak)
Hinc Illae Lacrimae (hence those tears)
Hodie Mihi, Cras Tibi (Today it's me, tomorrow it will be you - of death)
In Ictu Oculi (in the blink of an eye)
In Somnis Veritas (in dreams there is truth)
Inter Spem Et Metum (between hope and fear)
Lapsus Memoriae (slip of memory)
Luctor, Non Mergor (I struggle, but am not overwhelmed)
Lux Ex Tenebris (light from darkness)
Media Vita In Morte Sumus (In the midst of our lives we die)
Memento Mori (remember that you will die)
Memento Vivere (remember to live)
Morior Invictus (I die unvanquished / death before defeat)
Mundus Senescit (the world grows old)
Nemini Parco (I spare no one - death)
Nitimur In Vetitum (we strive for the forbidden)
Non Ducor, Duco (I am not led; I lead)
Non Omnis Moriar (I shall not all die / part of me will survive beyond death)
Nunc Scio Quid Sit Amor (now I know what love is)
Oderint Dum Metuant (let them hate, so long as they fear)
Omnia Mutantur (everything changes)
Onus Probandi (burden of proof)
Opera Posthuma (posthumous works)
Ophidia In Herba (a snake in the grass)
Pax Aeterna (eternal peace - a common epitaph)
Primum Non Nocere (first do no harm)
Pulvis Et Umbra Sumus (we are dust and shadow)
Quis Leget Haec? (who will read this?)
Quod Periit, Periit (what Is gone is gone)
Res, Non Verba (deeds, not words)
Respice Finem (consider the end)
Scientia Et Sapientia (knowledge and wisdom)
Seculo Seculorum (forever and ever)
Sed Terrae Graviora Manent (but on earth, worse things await)
Si Vis Pacem Para Bellum (if you want peace, prepare for war)
Sic Infit (so it begins)
Sic Vita Est (such is life)
Silentium Est Aureum (silence is golden)
Sine Nomine (without a name / author unknown)
Sola Dosis Facit Venemum (the dose makes the poison)
Solvitur Ambulando (it is solved by walking / simple tests find solutions)
Stamus Contra Malum (we stand against evil)
Succisa Virescit (cut down, we grow back stronger)
Sum Quod Eris (I am what you will be - of death)
Summum Bonum (the supreme good)
Summum Malum (the supreme evil)
Sunt Lacrimae Rerum (there are tears for things)
Sunt Omnes Unum (they are all one)
Tabula Rasa (blank slate)
Transire Benefaciendo (to travel along while doing good)
Tu Fui Ego Eris (I was you; you will be me - of death)
Ubi Amor, Ibi Dolor (where there is love, there is pain)
Ultima Forsan (perhaps the last / sundial quote "perhaps your last hour")
Usque Ad Finem (until the end / fight to the death)
Vacate Et Scire (Be still and know)
Vi Et Animo (with heart and soul)
Victoria Aut Mors (victory or death)
Vincit Qui Patitur (he conquers who endures)
Vita Ante Acta (a life done before - of reincarnation)
Vivere Militare Est (to live is to fight)
Vox Clamantis In Deserto (the voice of one crying in the wilderness)
There are also some longer ones that may not make good titles because of their length, but are still worth inclusion:
Aut Simul Stabunt Aut Simul Cadent (they will either stand together or fall together)
Flectere Si Nequeo Superos, Acheronta Movebo (if I can not reach Heaven I will raise Hell)
Forsan Et Haec Olim Meminisse Iuvabit (perhaps even these things will be good to remember one day)
Igitur Qui Desiderat Pacem, Praeparet Bellum (therefore whoever desires peace, let him prepare for war)
In Regione Caecorum Rex Est Luscus (in the land of the blind, the one-eyed man is king)
Minus Malum Toleratur Ut Maius Tollat (choose the lesser evil so a greater evil may be averted)
Quem Deus Vult Perdere, Dementat Prius (whom the gods would destroy, they first make mad)
Ubi Sunt, Qui Ante Nos Fuerunt? (Where are they, those who have gone before us?)
Virtus Junxit Mors Non Separabit (that which virtue unites, let not death separate)
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mvlderfox · 4 months ago
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"Mulder, this is a needle in a haystack. These poor souls have been dead for 50 years. Let them rest in peace. Let sleeping dogs lie." // "No, I won't sit idly by as you hurl cliches at me. Preparation is the father of inspiration." // "Necessity is the mother of invention." // "The road of excess leads to the palace of wisdom." // "Eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow we may die." // "I scream, you scream, we all scream for nonfat tofutti rice dreamsicles."
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giuseppe-yuki · 3 months ago
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anesthesia
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kimi antonelli x tiger shapeshifter!reader
w.c.: 2.3k
warnings: none, really.
part of my shapeshifter!reader spinoff series
summary: kimi + anesthesia? not a good combo.
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photo credits from pinterest :)
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in the spacey kitchen of kimi‘s family house, you bustled around with your boyfriend‘s mother, preparing the night‘s dinner- homemade gnocchi. both of you chatted idly as you waited for the lightly salted water to boil on the stove- it had to reach a certain temperature to be considered hot enough to put the pain-stakingly hand rolled gnocchi in. 
however, your peaceful moment was ruined when kimi busted though the kitchen doorway with a thin piece of paper in his hand. 
he clears his throat, wrinkling the paper in nervousness. 
you wipe your floury hands on a wet rag and hurry over to kimi. you didn‘t want to assume the worst, but what if he was hurt? did something happen at the mercedes facilities? gently putting your hand on his arm to comfort him, you question kimi. “are you okay, baby? what’s wrong?” 
thrusting the paper onto the dirty counter so both you and his mother can see, he explains. ”so…i just went to my dentist and he said i might have to have my wisdom teeth removed- like tomorrow afternoon.“ 
you huff in exasperation, lightly shoving your boyfriend aside in a joking manner. ”kimi! you had me worried for a second!“ 
he rolls his eyes. 
his mother laughs, having just finished reading the appointment overview. ”no, mia cara, he‘s just scared because he has to be put under anesthesia!“
kimi’s eyes widen, and he hurriedly tries to stop his mother from saying anything else. ”mamma, no!”
kimi’s mother just bats her son‘s hands away. smiling at you as if sharing a secret, she continues on. “last time kimi had to be put under anesthesia was when he broke his arm in a kart crash, and let’s just say- he went a little crazy.“
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you had never seen kimi so nervous before. not during your first date, not during the negotiations period with toto, and not even in the moments before doing fp1 in a formula 1 car for the first time ever!
kimi twiddled his thumbs and adjusted his seat every two seconds as you drove him to the dentist office in your custom mini cooper. 
keeping your eyes on the twisty roads of italy, you reach over with one hand to squeeze his hand. “it‘s alright, kimi,” you comfort, “i‘m sure the procedure will go fine! and, if you are scared of the anesthesia, don‘t be. everything will be okay.“
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everything was actually not okay. 
it started when the dentist’s assistant had fetched you from the nicely decorated waiting room of the dentist office. 
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“you are his… girlfriend, correct?” the assistant asks, flipping through a manila folder neatly labeled as ‘antonelli, andrea kimi’. 
you nod, trailing behind the woman in light blue scrubs through the maze-like hallways. 
“great!” she exclaims, opening a fancy white door and gesturing inside. “your boyfriend is here.”
when you walk in, kimi was slung over a dentist chair, eyes half closed and mouth stuffed to the brim with white gauze. his head lolled backwards and he was subconsciously twitching his fingers. even so, you applauded his ability to look so adorable under such conditions. you walk towards the chair, which was placed smack dab in the middle of the room next to some glistening metal tools and a big dental light that was shining directly into kimi’s face.
a lady in a white lab coat approaches you before you can talk to your boyfriend, hand out. “hello, you must be kimi’s girlfriend!” she says, beaming at you and enthusiastically shaking your hand. “i’m glad to say that the operation was a success!” letting go of your hand and scribbling something down on a piece of paper, she continues on. “i do have to say though, we did administer anesthesia in order to keep him comfortable for the procedure. he will be a little disoriented- ” 
before the doctor could finish her sentence, kimi roughly pushes himself up from the dentist chair, glaring at you. 
“WHO are YOU?!” he shouts, voice a little muffled by the gauze in his mouth. “get AWAY from me- i have a girlfriend!”
you look at him in disbelief. beside you, the doctor and the nurse muffle their laughter. 
“this is normal- usually the anesthesia lasts for a few hours, and he’ll be back to his regular self in no time!” the nurse explains.
you turn around to kimi aggressively punching the air around you, but missing every time.
“im warning you!” he slurs, “if you don’t get away from me, my girlfriend is gonna- is gonna eat you!” 
the dental assistant and dentist both raise a brow at kimi’s lowkey concerning words, but brush it off as another side effect of the anesthesia. 
“shut up, kimi!” you hiss in his ear, now trying your best to haul him out of the door in his disoriented state. 
he seems to cooperate with you momentarily from the operating room to the parking lot outside, until you reach your mini cooper.
“EWWWW!” he yells at the top of his lungs, causing several other people in the parking lot to look over. “I CANNOT BE SEEN IN A MINI COOPER! I HAVE A CONTRACT WITH MERCEDES.”
you slap your hand over his mouth, quickly mouthing sorrys to the people who probably had their eardrums explode from kimi’s screech. 
“kimi,” you reprimand. “you have to be quiet! we are in a public space and you are disrupting other people. now, you get inside the car right now.” 
he grumbles, but slowly stumbles his way into the passenger seat. 
you softly close his door and hop into your driver’s seat, sighing in exasperation. perhaps his mother was right. he did get a little crazy under anesthesia. maybe you should have called ollie for backup. 
after a bit of a struggle putting on kimi’s seatbelt, (he seemed to think it was a snake trying to strangle him) you back up from your parking spot and slowly make your way to the exit of the plaza. 
in the passenger seat, reclined all the way back with his feet on the dash like a passenger princess, kimi promptly bursts into tears. 
trying not to get hit by a random dude in a light blue vespa, you can only spare glances at kimi thrashing around in his seat like an eel, the only thing stopping him from flipping into the center console was the seat belt. 
“what??” you exclaim, head turning back and forth trying to see what’s possibly wrong with your boyfriend while also focusing on the road. “is there something wrong, kimi?”
“yes!!” he sniffles, wiping the streams of tears of his face. “you called me kimi and that’s not my name! my name is andrea. apologize right now!”
good god, you think, feeling peeved. you couldn’t wait until his anesthesia wore off.
putting on your best apologetic face, you quickly apologize. “okay, i am so sorry for that, andrea. how should i make it up to you?”
just like you flipped a switch, he immediately stops crying. “yay! thank you!” he says giddily, kicking his legs. “how about you get me ice cream??”
you don’t have to think twice before accepting his offer. the night before, you had researched a little bit about wisdom teeth surgery aftercare, and apparently ice cream was really good for you. besides, you felt like you deserved a treat after using so much energy to drag kimi out of the dental clinic.
you reroute to the nearest ice cream shop, and kimi thankfully stays silent for most of the car ride, but occasionally messed with the seat adjustment buttons a few more times than you thought was necessary. 
however, ten minutes to ice cream shop, at a stoplight,  kimi suddenly jolts from his position looking out the window. a shiny silver mercedes g-wagon sits glistening in the sun next to your tiny mini cooper. 
as if he just had neuron activation, he snaps his head towards you. “hey! you! did you know, i am a formula 1 driver for mercedes?”
the light turns green, so you step on it, the g wagon following at the same acceleration as you. 
“umm, yes! i do know that actually,” you say, navigating to the left-most lane. 
your boyfriend giggles mischievously, even though nothing was funny in the first place. “well,” he drawls out, holding up one finger. “i actually know how to drive very good. i can show you if you want?”
before you have a chance to react, your boyfriend grasps your steering wheel and yanks it aggressively to the right, almost running you into the expensive g-wagon. 
“kimi- i mean andrea! do not do that! ” you screech, prying his fingers off of the wheel and hurriedly correcting the car before it can cause any damage to any other vehicles on the road. 
he laughs and claps his hands at the g-wagon honking its horn at you, as if he didn’t just almost create a five car pileup in the middle of the road.
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thankfully, the rest of time goes smoothly without any incidents. well that is, until you got into the shop. 
“what flavor do you want, andrea?” you question, putting emphasis on the ‘andrea’ part. you did not feel like dealing with a breakdown just because you called him by the nickname that literally everyone called him. 
“stracciatella!!” he trills, twirling in a circle. 
ignoring the strange looks from other customers in the store, you place your and kimi’s orders, collect them, and snatch a comfortable looking bench outside of the store to eat your ice cream. 
of course, half-way through shoveling his ice cream into his mouth, (he smeared at least a fourth of his ice cream on his shirt) he decides that his memories of you would disappear again like it did in the dentist office, and he starts yelling bloody murder.
“EEEEEEEE!” he announces to every passerby in a five mile radius, jumping up and down while waving his arms. “i do NOT know this woman! she is trying to kidnap me!” 
you place your ice cream down next to you, snatch his flailing arms and shove him a tad roughly back onto the bench. “so sorry!” you shout to onlookers. “he’s under anesthesia right now- wisdom teeth removal!” your line seems to work, as no bystanders call the police on you, but he still continues to yell. 
you try every possible method you can think of, like begging him to stop screaming, trying to bribe him, and attempting to drag him to your car, but none of the above work, and he kept insisting that he didn’t know you. 
having no choice but to use your last resort, you make sure assure kimi that you will be right back (not that he particularly cared in this mindset) and dashed into a side street.
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padding quickly out of the alley by the ice cream shop, you approach kimi. he reacts exactly how you hoped he would- eyes widening in realization and a smile lighting up his face- a direct opposite of his suspicious glares and nasty side-eyes from before. 
“baby!” he shrieks, stumbling a bit towards you before clutching onto your fur. “i missed you soooo much!”
you wrap your tail around his body protectively to steady him, so he doesn’t fall.
“i’m glad you’re here,” he mumbles, petting you. “because a really weird lady literally tried to kidnap me! can you even believe that?”
you practically roll your eyes. he didn’t recognize you in your human form, but he did in your tiger form? unbelieveable.
carefully, you unwind your tail and softly nudge kimi onto your back. once you are sure he is secure on your back, you wind through several gaping tourists and an annoyed looking old nonna on the cobblestone street towards the parking lot. you purposely bow your head, trying your best to not look hostile to the passerbyers (it was kind of hard considering you were literally a tiger in the middle of a street in bologna, and with a groggy boy that looked suspiciously like the famed racing driver kimi antonelli sprawled on your back)
when you reach your hastily-parked mini cooper, you practically drag him off your back and use your teeth to yank him into the vehicle. double-checking to make sure no one was looking, you shift back into your human form, and speed back to kimi’s house in a record time that would probably make toto reassign you as the new merc formula one driver. 
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kimi’s mother cackles in laughter when she sees your disheveled-looking self trudge through the front door, one hand towing a tired kimi behind you. 
“i hope kimi didn’t cause you too much trouble,” she laughs from her position at the kitchen island, one hand on her hip. 
your boyfriend slumps onto his living room couch, one hand still stubbornly clasped in yours. he falls asleep within seconds.
“it was… alright,” you reply, raking your free hand through his curls. “if kimi ever needs to be brought home under anesthesia again though, i will definitely be bringing backup,” you admit. 
his mother nods, smiling. “i’m just glad he has a girlfriend like you to take care of him,” she states before walking away. 
you blush a bit at her words. you were pretty lucky to have such an amazing future in-laws and talented boyfriend.
daintily, you take a seat next to kimi, cooing when he subconsciously nuzzles his head into your lap. maybe kimi under anesthesia wasn’t so bad, after all.
“i love you, kimi!” you whisper to your boyfriend.
suddenly, his eyes snap open and he shoves himself off your lap. “my name is andrea!” he pouts, glaring at you.
 placing your head in your hands, you sigh defeatedly. you definitely take back your statement. 
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a/n: sorry y'all i had the most shitty week (i failed my physics test 🥲) so i haven't been that active recently. i finally mustered up some energy tonight to type this one out lmao.
side note, i have reattached the taglist from my previous series just in case you guys would like to read the spinoff. feel free to let me know if you'd like to be removed or added to the taglist for this series! :)
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taglist: @ilivbullyingjeongin@ale-522@formula1-motogpfan@aceyalonso@my0hmary
@russellbby@madkohi@rakshatos@heartsforleclerc@papaya-twinks
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prythianpages · 1 year ago
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My Sweet Little Wildflower | Azriel
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Azriel x Green Witch Reader | summary: After begging Azriel to take you with him to Windhaven, he finally concedes. But his worries of you getting hurt come to life when you're kidnapped.
warnings: violence, mentions of blood and death/killing
a/n: this is based off this request.
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Azriel hears you gasp as he sets you down. His hands remain at your waist, keeping you steady as you find your footing. You’re still not used to the feeling of flying. Contrary to what Cassian believed, you do not fly on a broomstick so it’s all new ground to you or lack of ground you should say.
There is an unexpected allure about Windhaven. The camp is etched from the formidable terrain of bare rock and mud. There’s a quiet here that you find strangely unsettling but peaceful. It’s the stars that captivate you the most. There’s countless of them and they shimmer like celestial diamonds against the vast, dark night sky. You wonder if they shine brighter than the ones in Velaris or if it’s the lack of moon tonight that makes you think so.
“It’s beautiful,” you say as you step forward, eyes darting around.
“It’s a camp on a mountain.” Cassian deadpans but you’re too engrossed in taking the sights before you to shoot him a sly remark.
“She finds beauty in everything,” Azriel seems to reply, his lips curling up fondly as he lets you continue to admire Windhaven, even though he feels the same as Cassian about it. “I should take her back to the house before–”
But it’s already too late.
Amidst the rugged expanse of the Illyrian camp, there are figures coming into their view. Lord Devlon is among them. Azriel’s shadows are tugging you back to his side until his arm is brushing against your cloak. He’s starting to regret bringing you with him and realizes it’s also too late to hide you in his shadows as the Lord Camp’s cold eyes fall onto your form.
You clutch your cloak tighter around your chest, keeping the obsidian necklace you wear hidden. It doesn’t matter though. Your presence itself pulses with an unseen energy–a dance of ancient whispers that tease the senses. You’re darkness and light. Wildness and wisdom.
Out of the corner of your eye, you see one of the Illyrian males make a sign against evil and although you’re a green witch, you instinctively take a step back. You bump into Azriel’s wing, which curls around you protectively and you feel a rush of reassurance and comfort through the bond.
“You brought a witch.”
The other males flinch at the word. Though Azriel is on alert and his shadows are whispering to him, he finds the sight of full-grown, weathered Illyrian warlords showing fear at the sight of you amusing. You would never hurt a fly. But he would never tell them that. He wants them to fear you.
“Is that a problem?” His voice carries a firm edge and his eyes narrow, issuing a silent challenge.
“Keep her away from the females and children.”
Azriel’s jaw is clenching and Cassian is stepping forward to ease the situation. He does not agree with the cold way the Illyrian camp lords are regarding you but they are here on a mission and need to see it through. “She is none of your concern,” Cassian says and then with a dark chuckle adds. “Unless you give her a reason to be.”
You look at each of them, adopting a stoic demeanor. It’s a skill you’ve honed from observing your mate–the master of impassivity. Their eyes widen momentarily before diverting their gazes. 
“We’re here to oversee that all arrangements for tomorrow’s Blood Rite go as planned.”
**
Azriel takes you to one of the few houses in Windhaven. He tells you it’s where he grew up besides Rhysand and Cassian under the careful and loving watch of Rhysand’s mother. The small house is a haven against the biting winds of the camp. 
The house bears the marks of countless footsteps and memories that have weathered its walls over the years, radiating a well-loved charm. Azriel guides you further into the house until you’re standing in the living area and your eyes are eager to take everything in, curious to know more about the place your mate spent so much time in. There’s a series of marks on one of the walls and you smile as you recognize Azriel’s, Rhysand’s, and Cassian’s names scribbled along dates that grow higher and higher with every year. 
“The room I stayed in is right around the corner,” Azriel tells you, inclining his head in said direction. “The bathroom is right next to it and the kitchen is further down the hall, if you need anything.”
“Thank you,” you reply, turning to face him. “This house is so warm and cozy.”
Azriel’s smile, though appreciative, carries a hint of amusement. He closes the distance between you, a playful glint in his hazel eyes. “Please don’t get any ideas.”
“I still prefer Velaris.”
A soft chuckle escapes Azriel’s lips. “Thank the Cauldron.”
He leans in and his hand softly traces the contours of your face. His eyes drink you in and are brimming with a burning affection he harbors just for you–the way they always do before he has to leave. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours and then I can show you around the forests.”
“Okay,” you exhale, looking into his eyes with a gaze that reflects his own. You stand on your tip-toes to press a brief kiss onto his lips. “Love you.”
Azriel holds you close before you can pull away. He kisses your lips again. Then your cheek and then your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment longer. “I love you too.”
**
Settling yourself onto the floor, you rest your back against the foot of the couch as you scribble down your intentions for the next month. There’s candles lit around you, bringing light to the room and offering a calming place for you to pause and reflect. It took a lot of effort for you to light each one of them as your powers are at their weakest every new moon.
You take a deep breath and close your eyes, centering yourself. The state of peaceful bliss you crafted for yourself unravels abruptly, shattered by a piercing noise that startles you. You open your eyes to find a stranger smirking back at you and horror strikes you when you realize he’s not alone.
Your heart skips a beat and you press yourself further into the couch, calling upon your powers. “Who are you?”
“So it is true,” the Illyrian male snickers in wicked delight, ignoring your question. His keen eyes take note of the way your eyes flicker between black and your natural eye color and the fact that you’re not putting up a fight. “You’re powerless under the new moon. How unfortunate for you that it landed on the one night we’re able to use magic.”
“Just to be safe.” Another male says, throwing something in the air.
The male in front of you catches the object with ease and your nose crinkles as a metallic odor overwhelms your senses. Iron. It may not be a weakness to most fae–or any, at all, despite the mortal’s claims–but it’s a witch’s weakness. Your stomach churns, bile rising up your throat.
You tug on the bond in the hopes to reach Azriel but as the male clamps the iron chains around your wrist, you’re overcome with a sudden wave of weakness. You can’t feel the bond. It’s eerily silent.
**
You don’t know how long you’re out for or if you were out at all. All you know is the cold, hard uneven ground beneath you feels like it’s moving and there’s a growing weakness in your limbs that make it hard for you to move. Your head feels unusually light and your throat tightens. You barely manage to roll over and prop yourself up with a shaky arm before hurling.
“Let’s hurry and get it done with.”
“What–what do you want from me?” You rasp. Your arms are still shaking as they hold you up and you will yourself to sit up, your back meeting a hard and rock surface. You blink your eyes and your surroundings clear enough for you to register that you’re in a cave. The feeble glow of torches cast long, sinister shadows that seem to writhe and contort along the jagged walls.
The male you had seen earlier comes into your line of sight. There’s a sharp dagger in his hand and its blade catches the dancing flames of the torches with a malevolent gleam. He points it at you, aiming for a place slightly to the left of the center of your chest.
“Your heart.”
You let out a choked laugh. To capture a witch’s heart is to hold a key to the very core of their being. It’s a sacred vessel through which profound magic flows and can transfer over to whoever holds it. But your heart’s chambers are only filled with the blood that sustains you.
The magic and enchantment that resides in your heart and defines your existence is bound to Azriel. It has been ever since you gave your heart to him. Taking your heart would be an act in vain for the Illyrian males who captured you.
You don’t tell them this though. You don’t want to die but the thought of putting a target on Azriel’s back terrifies you and overrides the former. You’d never bring any harm upon Azriel.
The male pulls on your hair, forcing your gaze up. His lips curl up into a snarl. “Don’t you dare laugh at me, you witch.”
“Should we have a little fun with her first?”
“We don’t have the time. There’s only a little over an hour before the magic leaves us.”
“That’s plenty of time to make her scream.”
A shiver courses through your spine, leaving a trail of cold unease. You squirm under your restraints but go entirely still when you feel something sharp. Your heartbeat quickens in response to the press of the dagger into your skin. 
“What if the Shadowsinger comes?”
“He won’t. He’s–”
There’s a knot in your stomach, tightening with the vulnerability of raw, unbridled panic. You’re going to die. The only comfort you have is that you’ll die, knowing that your last words to Azriel were “love you.”
“Did you not see the way he looked at her? Even if we rip her heart out, there’s no telling if we’ll escape his–”
“Then, we’ll be quick about this,” the male in front of you growls, pushing the dagger further into you. You gasp at the stinging pain and your whole body grows entirely still. “We’ll take her heart, harness her powers and run. The Shadowsinger will never find us–”
“I just did.”
**
There’s a burning in Azriel's chest that unsettles him deeply. He catches a flash of green and realizes that the searing sensation he feels is flaring out from the emerald that lives in the pocket of his leathers. Right over his own heart.
“What is it?” Cassian asks, noticing the subtle shift in the Shadowsinger’s stance. They’re standing near a fire pit, surrounded by tents that this year’s blood rite’s participants are being winnowed to. Their task is to ensure that no stunts are pulled such as the one from last year where Nesta, Emerie and Gywn were forced into the blood rite.
Azriel pulls out the gem. Despite the burn, he handles your heart with care and tenderness. The gem pulses with life, glowing like the vibrant green of a sunlit meadow. He tugs on the bond and his heart drops to his stomach.
He can no longer feel you. All he can feel is the relentless echo of imagined horrors. Something is wrong.
“It’s y/n,” Azriel breathes, eyes wide with worry.
Cassian’s eyebrows knit together in concern. He nods his head. “Go,” he tells his friend and Azriel is already vanishing into his shadows. “I can handle this.”
**
Azriel’s muscle are tense, coiled like springs. Each of his siphons are glowing like icy glaciers, threatening to release their raw power. the emerald led him to this cave. His eyes darken when he sees you. You’re held against your will with a dagger pressed into your chest and a hand against your throat, pulling you flush into an Illyrian male’s chest. The look of fear in your eyes nearly destroys him.
“If you don’t get your filthy fucking hands off of her, I will rip each finger. One. By. One.”
Azriel’s voice is cold, each utterance sending a chilling vibration through the air. With every passing second, his words are no longer a warning but become a promise. The Illyrian males are visibly shaking under Azriel’s intense gaze and the one holding you swallows thickly. Azriel catches the way his gaze flickers to the opening of the cave and then you’re being roughly shoved to the ground.
Dark tendrils cushion your fall and in an instant, Azriel is crouching beside you. His shadows are brushing against you, assessing you for your injuries. They whisper to him about the injury on your chest and at the sight of your blood, his own runs cold. He’s breaking the iron imprisoning you and rendering your hands useless with his bare hands.
“Azriel,” you breathe in relief.
“You’re safe now,” he reassures you, holding your distressed gaze. He gently brushes your hair back. “But I need you to close your eyes for me, okay? Can you do that for me, love?”
He waits for your response–a meager nod, before leaving your side. He leaves a couple of his shadows with you. They wrap around your eyes and curl against your ears, clouding your senses. He doesn’t want to subject you to the violence that is about to unfold.
When he stands to his feet, he takes delight in the anguished screams coming from the Illyrians as they realize they’re trapped inside the cave with him. His shadows are forming a wall against the only entrance and exit.
One of the males turns and drops to his knees. “Please,” he cries desperately. “I’m sorry!”
“You’re pathetic,” Azriel nearly growls with a sickening smirk. “All of you.”
He makes sure each of their deaths is slow and painful and he doesn’t stop until the very last staggering breath.
**
Azriel’s shadows lift from your eyes and ears and you’re looking into a pair of familiar hazel eyes. Your eyes glisten with tears and with a gentle touch, his fingertips brush away the traces of terrors that run down your cheeks. His palm cradles your face and you lean into his touch. He rests his other hand against your chest, over your bleeding wound.
Green light slips from his fingertips, seeping into your wound and you both watch in shock as he uses your magic to heal you. “I didn’t know I could do that,” he murmurs in awe.
When he lifts his hand and unmarked skin is revealed, relief overcomes him, coursing through him and through the bond. He can't help but dwell on the what ifs because he knows that he was only a few minutes away from being too late. From losing you.
Gods, he was a fool for bringing you--his sweet, loving mate to a cold and harsh place like Windhaven. Especially on the night before the blood rite. But you had begged him to take you with him. You wanted to see the place he grew up in and explore the forest of Illyria and Azriel found it extremely hard to say no to you.
You’re safe now, he reminds himself, pulling him out of his dark thoughts. Although still slightly shaken, you're also now unharmed. And that's all that matters to him.
“It’s because you hold my heart,” you tell him as your crying comes to a stop and with a shaky breath continue. “That’s what they wanted–to take my heart and use it for themselves.”
An arm slips under your knees and the hand on your face drops to embrace your neck. He pulls you close, cradling you to his chest. “Why didn’t you tell them?”
You know what he’s asking. You bury your face into the comfort of his chest. It’s warm and you can feel his heartbeat. It’s fast but beginning to steady and it’s like music to your ears–the sweetest symphony. You turn your head in a way that allows you to rest your ear against his heart but also to speak.
“Because I was scared they’d go after you next.”
“Oh, my sweet little wildflower,” he purrs. He leans his head down and his breath is hot against your neck. He's touched by your concern. “They’d never get within 10 feet from me if they came for me.”
You dare to lift your head and barely catch a glimpse of the carnage around you before Azriel is tightening his hold on you and coaxing your gaze back to him.
“I see that now.”
“Does it scare you?”
There’s a subtle hint of vulnerability within his hazel eyes. Concern etches into his features as the weight of his question lingers in the air. Azriel was a strong and lethal man. A warrior. A spymaster. You knew this. Yet, he always kept the nature of his work concealed, not wanting to burden you with the horrors of it all.
A blush creeps up on your cheeks and you avoid his heated gaze. “No.”
Azriel tuts. He can sense there’s something more and he needs to know. He coaxes your gaze back to his. “What is it?”
“I found it kind of…hot,” you admit, a bit sheepishly. “That you’d kill for me.”
Azriel chuckles. The corner of his lips, molded by shadows and softened by affection, tug upwards. Gods, he loves you so much. You’re perfect, made just for him. You're everything he could ever wish for and more.
“I’d do anything for you, love.”
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a/n: To the anon who requested this, I hope you enjoyed it ❤️
tagging: @fxckmiup
[series masterlist]
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nixthelapin · 11 days ago
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Midnight Thought on the Ithaca Saga (spoilers)
When Athena is hoping for a kinder world, I like how Odysseus doesn’t shoot her down (I think he had his fill of that with the suitors, ha ha ha), but just says it won’t be in his life. Why? Because he’s not saying it’s impossible, just that that kind of change takes more time and sacrifice than he can give. And that actually reminded me of something: in the Bible, King David wanted to build a temple to God, but God said no because of all the blood on his hands- David was a king during wartime, he is not meant to lead Israel in peace. But his son, Solomon? He would be the peacetime king, he built the temple, and coincidentally was also known for his wisdom (and his 700 concubines, but that’s irrelevant here).
Basically- TELEMACHUS AND ATHENA WORKING TO MAKE THE WORLD BETTER!!!
[I don’t really think Jorge was using the David-Solomon thing as inspiration or a reference, I just thought it was a cool similarity- especially the wisdom part, which I only realized while writing this. ]
Telemachus wants to “bring the world some light,” and she accepted his friendship rather than just a mentor-mentee relationship, showing that she’s opening her arms. Together, they can make a greater tomorrow that she couldn’t do with Odysseus. His part in the war was important, but there’s still work to be done, work Telemachus is very eager to accomplish.
He was also just coming back from a “diplomatic mission,” which shows more of that open arms mindset, something even the more innocent version of Odysseus didn’t really do! (I know in the actual Odyssey he went in search of his dad, but I don’t think that’s the same case here since there was no mention of a plan to do that on his end, plus Jorge had to change how Odysseus actually made it back to the island to fit his story.) Diplomacy is a lot about alliances and making peace, not about outsmarting/outmaneuvering enemies. It still requires wisdom and intelligence, but the world is not changed for the better by swords alone.
Odysseus’ story required him to embrace ruthlessness, but because of that, his son Telemachus doesn’t have to.
And I am so PSYCHED for the new wisdom duo. GO MAKE A GREATER TOMORROW!!!
[edit: it also ties into one of Circe’s last lines: “maybe one day the world will need a puppeteer no more”]
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theladybrownstarot · 2 months ago
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SPIRITUAL-WISDOM
A WAY TO SELF & IMPROVEMENT
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Introduction: Namaste People! I'm brown , this post is quite different from others because this post is about spiritual wisdom which is needed a lot in life and without it we are always steps behind achieving what we need . I'm making this post In order to help out and share my wisdom with others to help them improve in their life !
Topic : The state of non-thinking
Overview : The majority of our problems arises due to thinking - a cause of suffering. We have forgotten and undervalued the core importance of quitetiude that's intrisic to our nature and life which has now caused serious problems around and in world and us - disappointment, regret , fight , war, hate , and more. We make the world so let's silence ourself first so we can create a difference altogether with the state of non thinking .
✧ What is it ?
The state of non-thinking refers to where are living in the present without worrying and thinking about the future and past rather in content with what is in front of us totally. It's like an acceptance and way ahead to understand yourself deeply and so your life and take actions accordingly. It's not totally about to stop thinking but rather thinking less.
✧ Why do we need it ?
The majority of the problem arises from our thinking, we can feel negativity only when we think , so wouldn't it be better of without thinking ? For example - You are going to have an exam tomorrow and you haven't prepared yet left with time if used could help out only if you stop thinking about the time and exam continously. Well there it is that positive state which will come out from you and intutive whispers helping you out to do what needs to be done . Hence when you follow that state of non-thinking you allow intuition to work in and connect with your innate natural state . When you practicse the non-thinking consistently you will see connecting with the truth and find answers to all your questions and so you find peace in your life too .
✧ Do we need to completely stop thinking ?
Well , it depends on what kind of life you want to live or what purpose you hold and how you want to change your life accordingly. In terms of survival we do need negative thinking to make us aware and alert . Therefore we may go to less thinking than to non-thinking and with consistent practisce you shall be able to maintain lesser thinking and non thinking for same .
✧ Is thought and thinking the same ?
No , they are completely different . The thought is divine and thinking is the cause of suffering from your head .
✧ How do I come to the state of non-thinking ?
You can do certain things :
1. Realise that thinking is the cause of suffering.
2. Eliminate that makes you prone to think like actions and things which do not inspire and excite you at all .
3. Create an environment and in your day that would help you come back in the state again. So when you wake up early in the morning keep your device aside and mediate .
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©️ @theladybrownstarot 2023 all rights reserved. Any stealing or copying of work will be a punishable offence.
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flowercrowngods · 2 years ago
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thinking about time travel au steve meeting eddie in the school bathroom, finding eddie smoking and reading. and he doesn't mean to stay, but it's quiet here and he can see all the walls in case they start to move again with another monster wanting to break out and attack him, attack everyone around him.
and so steve joins him. eddie feels so awkward, because steve harrington doesn't hang out with him, doesn't hang out in abandoned bathrooms!!! and he wants to be obnoxious about it so he starts reading out loud.
it doesn't have the desired effect of making steve fuck off, though. instead, steve pulls his knee to his chin and watches eddie and listens. eddie is reading lord of the rings – somewhere in the third book. and steve finds himself in frodo, or in the wisdom gandalf brings, in the elves speaking of days long passed and the agony over war. in the nostalgia for days he cannot bring back. in the grief of peace lost.
he finds himself between the lines. asks eddie if they will make it, this frodo and sam. if these most unlikely heroes can succeed. because suddenly save needs to know like he needs to breathe.
and eddie just raises his eyebrows and says "if you really wanna find out, come here again tomorrow." and he does. eddie eventually finishes the book with steve, who pretends not to be crying when eddie gets to, "But I have been too deeply hurt, Sam. I tried to save the Shire, and it has been saved, but not for me. It must often be so, Sam, when things are in danger: some one has to give them up, lose them, so that others may keep them."
and to, "In this hour, I do not believe that any darkness will endure." 
and, "Oft hope is born when all is forlorn." 
and he wonders, when frodo goes into the west and speaks of "white shores and beyond them a far green country under a swift sunrise" if that is where eddie went, too. and robin. nancy, dustin, the rest of them. is that where you went? is it really not that bad?
just. steve and eddie as frodo and a very unaware sam. because "I can't carry it for you, but I can carry you!"
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evilvillain123456789 · 1 year ago
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A sleeping man in bed, the same one I always visit, so peaceful on his own. He lives in a house atop a hill in a completely empty village, one that once bustled with life now hollow in it's own. Such a lonely manner to be that I was created by his spirit in the night, a mere thought that vanished in but a fraction of an instant, yet percieved the world with appropriate speed, able to access the full wisdom and intelligence of mankind, as I am every thought, every frame of consciousness, though this time I'm special. Aware of this, Aware of everything preceeding, succeeding me. I've done everything there is to do, been every single place. I feel, though I do not panic, for I know what I must do. Slowly, at least to me, tenderly, I crawled into his bed, and nestled my face into the crook of his neck. I wrapped my left arm over his shoulder, gently grazing his chest as it heaved slightly, preemptively percieved. My other arm remains with me, though at an odd angle, supporting my own head, slightly uncomfortable against my ear. My left leg raises to swing over his hip, and my crotch and right leg are pressed into his backside. Subconciously, long after I'm dead, and though I never physically existed, he will respond to my touch warmly, and shift himself farther into my embrace. Now that I've felt and understood this, the destiny fufilled once more, I instantly cease to exist, never have, never will. Tomorrow morning, the man will get out of bed, stretch, get dressed, and walk to the park, where he will begin scattering seeds on the ground while masturbating, so he can aim his nut at the birds.
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midnight-bay-if · 5 months ago
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How would the RO's help an MC who refuses to go to sleep? Maybe because of nightmares?
(There may be a little of this in the game. So, I'll give a teaser, haha. Also, S is absolutely going to fail at taking their own advice.
I will also link this one since it explores what the ROs would do should a nightmare occur.)
S: As someone who suffers from night terrors, S has become begrudignly familiar with this problem. They've dealt with it alone for a very long time and have been very bad about accepting advice in dealing with them in the past. Now, it's come down to passing that wisdom on to you (they're being very hypocritical, and they know it).
Still, they would rather not watch you suffer, sleepless and spent. The first thing they do is push the end tables further from the bed, just in case you're a mover. They begin to encourage you to partake in meditation and yoga. This is something they never kept up with, so if you agree to participate, you unwittingly bring them back into the fray of healing. If that fails, they will offer to read to you as you cuddle up together in bed until you fall asleep.
It acts as a promise. They'll stay by your side, sleep by your side, and battle any demon that dares disturb your peace... if you are willing to do the same.
Rain: Rain has never been one for sleep, either. But they've spent enough time with S to recognise the importance of sleep for humans. The first time you protest, they brush it off. One night won't hurt, right? You can stay up with them watching old movies and eating snacks, and hopefully, you'll fall asleep with them on the couch.
If it continues, however, they talk to you about it. They will ask, gently, why you seem so averse to sleep. If you are willing to discuss it, Rain will work closely with you to devise a solution.
If you aren't willing to open up to them, expect Rain to become very annoying. Rain never knows how to handle situations when they don't know how to fix them. In their mind, no problem should be left unheeded. You are worth their time, and you're worth your rest.
Taj: Taj will handle your sleepless nights how they handle everything. Grumpily.
"What do you mean you don't want to sleep?" He grouses. "Stop your chirping, Koel, and go to sleep."
If you choose to divulge the nightmares and the terror they derise, a little bit of guilt will trickle in for their abrasiveness.
With a softness they do not show, they will take your hand and guide you to the bed with them. Taj climbs into the bed, holding the covers up to invite you in with them. Without a word, they settle in for the night. You're confused until you feel a tail carefully wrapping draping across your waist. A reminder that you aren't alone, and Taj will be there should terror visit you that night.
N: They already know why. They've borne witness to those pesky little demons that plague your dreams already, and it wouldn't surprise them to learn they have even added to them. So, when you refuse to fall asleep, the answer as to why is simple enough to decipher.
The question comes easily: "If you like, my dear, I could ensure you have only pleasant dreams tonight. With your permission, I could guarantee only pleasant dreams every night."
There are a few perks to dating a demon if you are the type to take advantage. If you aren't... Well, it would be a lesson in restraint for N. A lesson they would most likely fail.
Umbra: Umbra has heard only secondary tales of nightmares. To them, it sounds very similar to what they experience awake. It hurts Umbra to imagine you going through such a threat without the means to defend yourself.
"I will be here, MC. Sleep, and allow me to watch over you."
It may be a selfish hope to imagine you would believe them enough to keep you safe, but they do hope. If not today, if not tomorrow, they hope one day you will lay your head on your pillow, secure in the knowledge that Umbra would never abandon you to your scourge.
(One day I may learn how to answer these while keeping them somewhat brief, lol.)
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walkswithmyfather · 1 month ago
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Ephesians 1:1-8 (NASB). [1] “Paul, an apostle of Christ Jesus by the will of God, To the saints who are at Ephesus and are faithful in Christ Jesus: [2] Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. [3] Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places in Christ, [4] just as He chose us in Him before the foundation of the world, that we would be holy and blameless before Him. In love [5] He predestined us to adoption as sons and daughters through Jesus Christ to Himself, according to the good pleasure of His will, [6] to the praise of the glory of His grace, with which He favored us in the Beloved. [7] In Him we have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of our wrongdoings, according to the riches of His grace [8] which He lavished on us. In all wisdom and insight.”
“The Riches of God’s Grace” By In Touch Ministrie:
“Because of Christ, we can receive God's choicest gifts.”
“What would it take for you to consider yourself rich? A large bank account? A fancy car in the garage? You may not be so bold as to answer “yes,” but does your life reflect this attitude? Sadly, many believers are overtaken by the world’s standard of riches and define wealth by how much they possess.
This happens whether one is wealthy or not. For the well-off, the temptation is to see money as the defining characteristic of their life; for the poor, money becomes the be-all-end-all goal of comfort and satisfaction. Greed plagues rich and poor alike.
What many believers fail to realize is that in Christ, we are all rich. Sure, you may have bills to pay, but if you have placed your faith in Jesus, you can boldly acknowledge that God has already poured His richest blessings upon you (Ephesians 2:4-7).
Today’s passage says that God has blessed us with every spiritual blessing (v. 3). Did you notice the tense of the verb there? The past tense—“has blessed”—is used, meaning it’s already happened. And He does not give just a little bit here and there; rather, He lavishly pours out His blessings on us.
Look beyond your finances and prayerfully list as many of your blessings as you can. Tomorrow, we will take a closer look at some of God’s choicest gifts.”
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jennay · 9 months ago
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Last Night
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Part 1
Masterlist
Noah Sebastian x Reader
If I missed any tags or you want to be added to the list let me know!
Tags: @lma1986 @jilliemiw86 @missduffsblog @thisbicc @yeehaw-my-guys @thescarlettvvitch @vinyardmauro @cheyyyyr @clubfairy @xxkittenkissesxx @lh3 @dominuslunae @myownthoughts12 @cookiesupplier @somewhere-diamond @bloody-delusion-expert @glitterydeputyshepherdwagon @aprosiacperson @skulliecadaver-blog @bangchan-ed @hey-diddly-ho-neighborino @itsafullmoon
You leaned against your kitchen counter, staring out the kitchen window, watching as the leaves continued to fall from each branch on this peaceful autumn morning. You sipped your coffee, letting the liquid warm your chest and stomach.
You landed in Oregon three years ago and were just now becoming accustomed to the weird weather changes. You'd be lying if you said you didn't miss the California sun but had to go; you couldn't stay there. No matter how often you tell yourself you can move to a different part of the state, your heart will never be happy knowing your past is that close.
Reflecting on things, they seemed like a mixed bag of sweet and sour. It's all about the could-haves and the lessons you learn the hard way, with a bunch of 'what ifs' buzzing in your head.
You remember being on your grandma's porch, flipping through those old photo albums. Those moments are frozen in time, safe behind that shiny plastic. Every time you look at those pictures, you get this pang of nostalgia, wishing you could return to those carefree, pure days. It's like this little ache in your heart that knows you can't rewind the clock; you could never go back.
"You know, you can't go back and change the past, but you've got the pen when it comes to your future. Take what you've learned, keep moving forward, and make the best of right now—that's fine," she told you. "You've got this; you're a smart cookie."
You exhale heavily, setting down your coffee mug with a clink. There's this hollow feeling in your gut, and man, you wish she was here to talk to. You could use a dose of her wisdom right about now. Life's not bad, honestly. You have a decent job and a cool apartment you share with your best bud. It's not like you've got significant stuff to gripe about. But there's this gap, you know? And deep down, you know it's about love. You've built these walls so high that no one's getting over them to hurt you again. No way.
So you've been playing the field, treating hearts like they're just another game. But it's not just a game anymore, is it? It started as a laugh, something you thought you could switch off whenever. But time's a sneaky thief; before you know it, you're looking at someone pretty damaged in the mirror.
And these games?
They've turned into habits, the kind of habits you don't shake off, the kind that people go to therapy for...the kind that your grandma warned you about.
The sound of vibration on the counter drags you from your thoughts, and you glance to the side, seeing your phone light up with Jolly's face plastered on the screen and the name Jolly Green Giant above it. You let out a small laugh every time he calls. The picture...the name. It's suitable for him.
You press the phone to your ear and tap the answer button, a reflexive smile spreading across your face. "Hey there, sunshine!" you greet with genuine warmth.
"Wow, you picked up!" Jolly's voice comes through, his accent coloring every word like an artist's brush on canvas.
"Caught me at a good time," you reply, leaning back against the kitchen counter. Your mind's eye paints a vivid picture of Jolly's familiar expressions. What's going on?" you inquire, keeping the tone light.
He takes a slight pause, the kind that signals something's coming. "So, we're here, in town, for that show tomorrow, remember? The one I've been talking about?" He sounds hopeful, as if willing to remember.
A nod, though he can't see it, and a whispered curse. "Shit. It slipped my mind."
He laughs, the sound teasing yet affectionate. "I should've bet on it, but hey, how about we make up for it? I'm free in an hour—how about you?"
A chuckle escapes you, the situation all too familiar. "Let me guess, time for our annual 'what's new and crazy' session?" You play along. "Just downed a coffee, but when have I ever said no to more caffeine?"
His laughter rings clear, a sound that's always been a prelude to good times. "Thought you'd say that. But let's switch it up and grab some lunch. I'm starving, and I bet you skipped breakfast again, didn't you?"
You laugh, "Yeah, I'm ready for lunch. Send me the address of where you want to meet."
"See you soon."
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Your smile widens as you approach the restaurant, and you spot Jolly through the glass. He's engrossed in the menu, a picture of patience as he waits for you.
Anticipation bubbles within you, mixed with a flutter of nerves. You know it will be like old times, and he'll have many stories to tell you, but there won't be an awkward moment.
Pushing open the door, you walk over to the booth, his back to you. Stealthily, you slide up beside him, hovering until his gaze locks yours. His smile bursts, a warmth flooding his body—part of him had the sneaky suspicion you might duck out, but here you are.
He shuffles to make space, a silent invitation to join him. Then, in a move as natural as breathing, he pulls you into a bear hug, his head cradled against yours. "You made it!" he exclaims, his voice a mix of joy and disbelief.
Your laughter combines with his, and the embrace feels warm and safe. "You thought I'd miss this? Not for the world," you assure him, the ease of your friendship wrapping around you like the coziest blanket. "You look amazing." As you pull away and observe him, you say, "How do you never age?"
He shrugs you off and slides a menu in front of you.
"I think you're blind."
You laugh giggling as you order your food. You stand up. "I need to pee."
"Thank you for that." Jolly teases.
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The fluorescent lights flicker overhead as you leave the bathroom, casting a sterile glow on the floor. The bathroom was supposed to be a brief escape from the diner's noise, a momentary pause from the laughter and clinking dishes.
But now, as you walk back to your seat, your heart clenches. He is bathed in the cold blue light of his phone screen, his face illuminated by a FaceTime call.
And then, the voice on the other end of the line—a voice you recognize all too well—cuts through.
His laughter dances in the air, a cruel melody that grates against your raw nerves.
"Who are you with?" The words hang in the air like a blade, slicing through the fragile bubble of denial you've carefully constructed.
You sit down, and your legs are suddenly weak.
Jolly turns the phone toward you, and there it is—the face you've been avoiding, the face that haunts your dreams. Noah. His eyes, once warm and familiar, now hold a storm of emotions: regret, longing, and something darker, something you can't quite name.
Your eyes blur with unshed tears. Why does it hurt so much? You thought you'd moved on, stitched up the wounds he left behind. But seeing him again, hearing his voice—it's as if the scars have split open, bleeding again.
"Fuck," you whisper, the word a prayer and a curse.
Jolly's oblivious, still laughing, unaware of the raging within you. You tear your gaze away from the screen, focusing on the flickering candle at your table.
You won't let this unravel you, not today. Not when you've worked so hard to rebuild the fragile scaffolding of your heart.
You stand up, pushing your chair in with a force that startles the people near by. The room blurs around you as you make your way to the exit. Memories flood your mind—the stolen kisses, the whispered promises, the nights tangled in each other's arms. But alongside the sweetness, there's bitterness—the lies, the betrayal, the shattered trust.
And Jolly, your supposed friend, the one who knew your pain intimately, who witnessed your tears and held your hand through sleepless nights—why would he put you in this position? Why would he expose you to the hurricane of Noah's presence?
Outside, the air is cool against your flushed cheeks. You take a deep breath, tasting salt and regret. The sky above seem distant, indifferent. You wrap your arms around yourself, a feeble attempt to hold the pieces together. But the ache remains a phantom limb that refuses to fade.
You walk away, leaving behind laughter and Facetime calls, leaving behind Jolly and Noah. The door closes softly behind you, muffling the sounds of the music and chatter. And as you step into the gloomy cold air, you wonder if healing is a myth, if love is a beautiful lie, and if betrayal is the only truth that matters.
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valaryswrites · 1 year ago
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PART 1 & 2 TOGETHER
🪐 where aziraphale locks you and crowley in the bookshop forcing you to make peace within eachother, but instead you both come up with a better idea to pass time.
warnings: lots of dirty talking, smut and english is not my first language (sorry it took so long, my computer broke and the part 2 got lost)
After ordering “make peace within each other!” with a mischievous smile on his face, Aziraphale left the bookshop, but not before locking in his two dearest friends; Crowley and you.
Unfortunately, the demon wasn’t your favorite. Not even a little. You perceived him as a vile, naughty and cruel being, even though Az tried to convince you otherwise thousands of times. About Crowley… well, his feeling were a little bit messy.
So Aziraphale got tired.
The angel couldn’t stand seeing the people he loved the most hating each other like that. It was time for him to do something about it, so he did.
“I can’t fucking believe he locked us in!” you said loudly, kicking a wooden chair but then sitting on it.
Crowley watched you with unblinking eyes for a moment, and then his expression changed to a sly smile. “Look at us.” he said, in a lazy but seductive tone. “A human and a demon being forced to play nice together.”
“You know what, Mr. Crowley?” you asked, playing cool. “We should play a game: we stay silent for the night and wait until tomorrow.” you proposed, with a big and false smile.
Crowley raised an eyebrow at you comment and leaning in closer, he asked:
“Are you afraid you won’t be able to control yourself if you open your mouth?”
He had the same tone again.
“Oh, come on, Crowley!” you insisted, standing up and walking towards a bookshelf, trying to find something to read that could keep you away from the demon.
“Ah, so I hit a nerve.” he says and after a few seconds he broke a silence that was starting to grow. “May I ask what are you going to read?” Crowley inquired, watching as you continued looking for something interesting.
“Look, you don’t have to force it.” you said with honesty, not even looking at him, focused reading the titles of the books in front of you. “We could just co-exist for a few hours and I guess we will be alr… Aziraphale has the fucking Kamasutra in his bookshop!?” you almost screamed, too shocked.
Crowley’s eyes seems to light up and he couldn’t help but laugh. “A classic!” he says. “I mean, it’s not surprising that Aziraphale keeps a copy of the Kamasutra here. It’s one of the oldest tomes of knowledge in existence, full of wisdom and insight into the nature of human desire. It makes complete sense for a book this sacred to be housed in a bookshop run by someone like him.” for the first time, he was saying something clever, you thought.
“I guess you’re right.” you said, leaving the book right were you found it. “It just feels… weird to picture.”
“I’ve heard the techniques described within those pages are simply divine.” Crowley said and you could feel his gaze on your body. “Maybe,” he said with a mischievous tone in his voice, “we could put them to the test?”
“Demons can have sex with humans?” you asked, ignoring his proposal. You sat in one little couch and, of course, Crowley sat in front of you.
“It’s not unusual for demons to have some intimacy with humans.” he simply answers, adjusting his position. “To seek out whatever pleasures this world has to offer.”
“Oh…” you managed to say, a little bit disturbed (but curious). “That’s why you have such a face of a virgin.” you tried to insult him, but Crowley just let out a chuckle.
“You have no idea.” he said in a playful tone and then leaned closer, with his eyes fixed on yours. “But you could find out.” he says in a whisper, his lips curving into a grin. “Just imagine all the things I could show you…”
“Are you flirting with me, Crowley?” you asked him, grabbing and old bottle of whiskey from Az’s desk and taking a quick sip. Maybe it would help. “Flirting with the girl you despise the most?”
Crowley raised an eyebrow as you take a sip of whiskey, smiling slightly. “Perhaps I’m flirting with you to see what kind of reaction I can get out of you.” his tone was still alluring. “But I would be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy this little exchange we’re having.” he added.
“Oh…” you took another sip, this time gaining more courage to speak. “So you are teasing me for fun? Or because you actually want to make real all of these fantasies of yours?”
The demon shrugged, seeming to be enjoying your reaction. “Maybe a little bit of both?” he said, grinning. He leaned in closer again, whispering in a soft tone. “Just imagine how much fun we could have together… just the two of us. No rules, no constraints… just pure pleasure.”
“But why?” you asked.
“I mean, if you want constraints I guess I can use a rope on you…” he started to say, completely into it.
“Not the constraints, stupid. Why would you like us to fuck?” you asked more clearly this time, feeling the warmth of the whiskey travelling down your throat.
“Because we are bored, and we have a long night ahead.” he simply answered. “And also because I know you would enjoy it.” He chuckled.
“So you would do it just for me to enjoy it?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Oh no, I would totally enjoy it too.” he affirmed, showing a smile with teeth.
“Well…” you started to consider it, but the idea seemed too risky. You stood up and started to walk around the place, with Crowley’s piercing eyes following you. “As much as I would like to kick your face and send you back to hell… I can’t deny I find the idea pretty… desirable.” you finally said, and even though you weren’t looking at him, you just knew the kind of smile Crowley had in his face.
“Tell me your rules.” Crowley proposed, after whispering your name with a mischievous tone. “And I’ll be sure I break them all.”
You turned around to face him.
“I have rules, yes.” you confirmed. “But they are for you to follow, understood?”
“Mhm…” the demon vaguely answered, standing up, walking and then leaning against a wall in a casual manner, folding his arms. “I’m listening.”
“No marks.” you insisted. “You can’t leave marks on me because that implies Az could find out. And he locked us here for us to become friends, not fuck.”
“I’m pretty sure the angel would be delighted with the idea of us fucking, but… no marks.”
“Secondly, after we are done, we are done.” you ordered. “We go back to where we were.”
“Very well…” he said in a seductive tone, walking slowly towards you. “And what if I don’t want us to go back to how we were after we’re done?” he softly asked, leaning closer to you. Your bodies were almost touching. “What if I want more?” there was a predator tone in his voice. And you liked it.
“Tell me your rules.” you now said, ignoring all of what he mentioned before.
“Oh, where would the fun be in that?” he said. “How about a little game?” he suggested. “We’ll play a nice game of truths and dares.” he started to walk around the room, but now you were the one following him with your eyes.
You sighed, feeling a little bit nervous but undeniably curious.
“Go ahead.” you accepted. “Truth.”
“Perfect.” he smiled. “Let’s start with an easy one…” his playful voice slowly shifting into something a little more intense and serious. “Since you know us, how many times have you thought about me, even just for a moment?”
You rolled your eyes, but willing to answer with the truth.
“Some times. When I’m visiting Aziraphale and you make your appearance… always so dramatic… I want to strangle you.” you chuckled. “And other times… I also want to strangle you, but in a… playful way.”
Crowley let out a slight purr and seemed to appreciate the honesty.
“Good job, it’s admirable to be true to your feelings.” he says, with hints of irony in his voice.
“Truth or dare?” it was now your turn, and you had plenty of ideas running around your mind.
“I’m a demon, I love a good old dare.” Crowley answered with a smug smile. “I have no fear of anything you could come up with.”
“Kneel.” you ordered. “In front of me.”
The demon seemed to like being ordered around. “As you wish.” he said.
He slowly got down on his knees in front of you, taking off his glasses at the same time. Now his eyes were looking up at you, and you enjoyed the view so much.
“Is this your idea of fun?” he asked, flirty. “Or is it a way to assert your dominance over me?” he whispered, his voice still alluring.
“Maybe.” you answered. “Would you like me to dominate you, Crowley?”
He seemed to consider your words, his face turning into a slight smile.
“Perhaps I would like that.” he teased, quickly getting up from his knees, still staring at you with snake eyeshadow “But I’m not sure I believe you can really dominate me. Or should I say… I’m fairly certain you can’t.” he then leaned against the wall with a cocky smirk on his face. “But oh, love, I would like you to prove me wrong"
You sighed again, taking a step back from him. The idea was madness, but you couldn’t help but being totally into it.
“Okay, then.” you finally said, firmly. “Who’s going to make the first move?” It was clearly not going to be you; it was his idea first.
Crowley moved closer to you again.
“Let’s see…” he began. “Perhaps I would prefer to let you make the first move?” he confessed, leaning against the nearest wall and folding his arms in a casual manner. “But don’t worry; I’m sure I’ll be able to tempt you into breaking your own rules.” he added with a smirk. “And it’s indeed one of the pleasures of the flesh, to hear the sighs and screams of a woman being dominated.”
You raised an eyebrow and asked him;
“Oh, so now you want to dominate me?”
“I don’t know…” he said, with a small grin on his face. “What would you do if I wanted to? How would you react if I told you to bend over and please me?” There was a predatory look on his face. “In the end, it doesn’t really matter who makes the first move. Because we both now the end result will be me on top, and you screaming my name.”
You rolled your eyes.
“We’ll see.” you said, starting to walk slowly and seductively around the bookshop, knowing very well that Crowley would totally follow you.
The demon’s expression shifted into something more playful, and he followed you around the place with his hungry eyes watching every movement of yours. He waited patiently for something to happen, but actually he is not patient at all.
“So, what brings you to the bookshop today?” he asked, with a joker tone. “Looking for something in particular?”
And you laughed a little; you wanted to go on with that inside joke.
“Yes, sir.” you nodded. “I’m looking for some recommendation.”
“Do you have an specific preference?” he asked seductively, doing his best to sound like an actual librarian.
“I have some preferences, yes.” you affirmed, with a little smirk on your mouth, turning around to face him. “I like greedy demons.”
Crowley raised an eyebrow at your response while a smile was starting to make its presence in his face.
“Greedy demons, eh? Well, I happen to know a few who might fill that bill. They would be more than willing to satisfy your needs.” he answered.
“I don’t need a few, I just need one.” you said almost in a whisper.
He leaned forward, his voice lowering into a whisper too.
“One is all it takes, isn’t it? I can give you exactly what you need.” there was a teasing tone there. “What about appearance? Personality? Abilities, maybe?”
“Mhm…” you started. “I like them sarcastic and even hateful.” you leaned closer and your bodies where so close to each other that they were almost touching. “And I like them when they take the lead.”
Crowley closed the distance between you two in a second; he kissed you with hunger and desperation. The little teasing game was fun, yes. But this was better. His arms were wrapped around your waist and he let out a groan that made you shiver.
“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” he whispered right in your mouth. “This is what you wanted the whole time.”
“Yes, I’ve been wanting to kiss your stupid mouth to make you shut up all this time.” you confessed, with your hands together in the back of his neck. “But you were busy hating me.”
Crowley chuckled lightly, with his snake eyes glowing with desire.
“You wanted to shut me up?” he asked, moving his hands to your hips and bringing you even closer to him. “You succeeded, so I wonder what else you might be capable of with this mouth of yours…”
Your eyes were also full of lust and desire, and you grabbed him by the arm and walked with him behind you.
“Your choice: the couch or the desk.”
“Oh, a woman who know what she wants.” he winked at you. “The couch or the desk? Why not both?” he asked, but he allowed you to lead him over to the desk, with his body moving even closer to yours. There is a chair by the desk, and Crowley sat there while you, instead of sitting in his lap, jumped a little to end up on top of the desk, as if you were on a stage and he was the only spectator. You smiled down at him and started to remove your shirt.
Crowley’s eyes seemed to become almost transfixed as you did, his expression was turning into something more primal and erotic. His breath quickened slightly while his eyes were studying every bit of you.
“My, my…” he whispered. “So you are performing for me?” the demon asked, and he reached out a hand to touch you and then pulled it back quickly, as if wanting to resist the temptation.
“You’ll really try to resist it, Crowley?” the way you said his name that time sent shivers down his spine. You took off your shoes, letting him now that you still had some clothing on.
Crowley let out a small moan at your words and movements, and his body was failing; becoming even more tense with his eyes never leaving you. He shook his head.
“I believe I am capable to resist it, yes.” he answered. “But are you really going to go through with this?”
You took that as a challenge.
“Try not to touch, then.” you ordered, moving your hands towards the zip of your trousers.
“And what happens if I fail?” he asked, his voice still alluring. “What kind of punishment do you have in mind?”
He seemed unable to keep his eyes off of you, your body was overpowering his better judgement.
“You seem tense, are you okay?” you played innocent, but that grin in your face was not a secret. Your trousers were almost in the floor, and your sight in your underwear was tempting a demon. A taste of his own medicine, maybe?
You could almost see the tension emanating from him, his eyes now locked in your legs.
“Am I okay?” he repeated. “Let’s just say I’m not sure what to do with myself right now.”
“Well…” you started, crossing your legs. “I told you not to touch me, but I never said anything about you doing it to yourself…”
Your words seemed to have a profound effect on him, and he shifted slightly in his seat again. As much as he tried to resist it, his body was betraying him.
“So, you’re saying I’m able to touch myself, but not you?” he wanted to make sure his ears weren’t failing.
You nodded, and his tongue darted out of his mouth, almost as if wanting to taste you. One of his hands travelled down his lower body, giving himself a little stroke over his trousers. You smiled, biting your lip. The sight was perfect; a demon, the demon, was pleasing himself while looking at you, as if you were a treasure.
“You are truly a master of manipulation…” he managed to say, while his hand was still giving himself some relief. He was starting to relax.
“I can’t help but feel like a one an only…” you teased, spreading your legs a little, still over the desk. “Seeing a hateful demon touching himself because of me…”
The way you talked about him as if he was a puppet seemed to turn him on even more, since his hand was now under his pants.
“Oh, fuck…” Crowley said to himself, closing his eyes hardly. “I want you to touch me instead…”
“You do?” you asked innocently, getting off the desk.
“Perhaps just the touch of the tips of your fingers, teasing me like you do…” he whispered, his hand moving slowly this time.
“You’ll have to ask nicely, then.” you ordered, proud.
“Please.” the demon asked, his eyes still closed and his hand moving up and down faster. “Can you touch me instead?”
“I’m pretty sure you can do better than that, Crowley.” you kept teasing him, playing with the sides of your underwear. “Weren’t you an angel long ago? Beg like an angel.”
He loved that little game of yours. For some reason, the way you were treating him had an effect on him. A good one. A desperate one.
“Come on!” he almost screamed when you hit that soft spot. “Please…” the way he pronounced this word made you walk towards him.
You looked down at him, using a hand you reach his chin and force him to look up at you. As he did, you used the tips of your fingers to trace his lips and he started to lose it. You wanted to go on with the teasing, so you turned around to leave him right there, hungry an unable to stop stroking himself.
You weren’t actually expecting it, but you were surprise when you felt his arms and hands grabbing you hardly, making you end up on the top of the desk again, but this time with him between your legs. He leaned in and whispered in your ear;
“Did you really think you could use me as your toy, sweetheart?” his eyes were glowing with lust and anger.
You felt a rush of nervousness noticing how he ended up in charge now.
“You looked like a wonderful, pathetic toy in that chair…” you told him, trying to kiss him. He refused.
“Pathetic, huh?” he repeated, while one of his hands were heading towards your inner thighs, where he started to trace circles near your entrance. “Now that you are the toy, I’m going to use you however I please.” without any warning, he slid a single finger inside you.
You closed your eyes, letting your body feel all those mixed emotions. His thumb was caressing your clit slowly and softly, while his mouth was playing with your neck. Your hands travelled to his back, where your nails where almost scratching it.
“Someone is eager, aren’t they?” he smiles at you, with his eyes glittering with amusement and desire. “Do you want me to use you, toy?”
Crowley was paying you with the same coin, sliding a second finger in. You groaned in pleasure and surprise.
“You really are in a vulnerable position now…” he pronounced your name after, making you shiver. “I could do anything I want to you… I could touch you, I could taste you…”
The moment the word “taste” was mentioned, you couldn’t help but let out a soft moan. And of course, he noticed.
“Do you want me to taste you, then?” he whispered, his voice shifting deep with eroticism. “Shall I taste your sweet, sweet flesh?”
You nodded.
“You want me to eat you out right here, on this desk?” Crowley asked again, and you were losing it with that much teasing. “What’s going to happen when you come to visit the bookshop and see this desk? Would you like to have those flashbacks?” he was talking right next to your ear, while his fingers were pleasing you with eager. “Will you picture me, fully clothed and eating you out as if you were a prey?”
You nodded again, since the words weren’t coming out of your mouth. Now you were the betrayed one; your whole body was playing against you. You could feel the climax building up in your lower abdomen when the pace of Crowley’s fingers increased.
But sadly for you; he stopped.
“You like being played, don’t you?” he spat, forcing you to lie down on the desk, leaning on you and kissing your body, going lower with every kiss, and getting your underwear out of the way. “Being on the edge, being teased and toyed with…” he spoke, before biting slightly the inside of your thighs.
You could feel his tongue pressing against your center, while his hands where holding you in place. You were biting your fist to avoid the moaning.
“Oh, no, no, no.” he denied, looking up at you. He licked his lips and you found it incredibly hard to resist. “Don’t cover your mouth.”
His tongue slid against you again, slowly and passionately. Crowley was like an animal, he was groaning, making you feel the vibrations all over your body. He went on like that for a few good minutes, biting, kissing and licking with desperation.
He crawled to you until his body was covering yours, and he kissed your lips hardly, letting you taste yourself in his mouth.
“I can’t wait any longer…” he confessed against your mouth, while adjusting his position and taking his lenght out, right in your entrance. He looked at your eyes for a glimpse of a second, making sure you wanted it.
And you wanted it.
When he finally started to take you, you could feel your head dizzy from so much pleasure.
“I’ve been wanting to fuck you since you walked through that door…” he managed to say, while his body was pushing even deeper into you.
Crowley’s entire being was focused on pleasing you, and he seemed to be enjoying immensely. His hands where touching your entire body, without forgetting any part of it.
He kissed you again, before pulling back from it and adjusting his position, holding you by your hips and rocking them back and forth. You opened your eyes just to find him laughing between moans and thursts. Using a thumb to rub your clit seemed like a fantastic idea, so he went on with it. But it was a lot from you.
“It’s too much, it’s too much…” you managed to say. “Don’t stop…”
“I’m so close…” he let you know, going faster than ever.
You felt your the presence of your climax right there, when you heard him sounding so human, so vulnerable. You clenched around him and that made Crowley reach his orgasm too.
“Oh f—“ he couldn’t even finish the sentence; a wave of pleasure bathe him entirely.
His body fell on top of yours, but he was careful enough not to put his entire weight on you. The palm of his hands ended up at the sides of your head, and he lean in to kiss you passionately. It was a messy and exhausted kiss, but still a hungry one.
“God…” you whispered, your foreheads touching.
“Don’t bring that old bastard to this…” he told you, giggling. “And I’m sorry to ruin the moment, because… fuck, I would totally repeat this thing again, again and again. But…” he said, getting off of you and standing up, fixing his clothes. “I can sense that Aziraphale is near.” he declared.
You stood up quickly, getting your clothes together and started to dress up quickly.
Crowley’s eyes were looking at you getting dressed, with a slight smirk on his face.
“If the angel wasn’t around the corner I would really like to bend you over that desk…” he started again, with his hands in his pockets. “Pull your hair, make you curse me…”
“You’re already wanting more, Crowley? We had a deal.” you said, putting your shoes on.
“I bet I can get you to crave it again.” he swore, taking a step closer to you. You were already clothed, and you turned around to face him, but before you could speak, the door opened.
“Crave what, Crowley?” the familiar voice of Aziraphale made its appearance. You cursed Crowley in your head for not letting you know how close the angel was.
“I don’t know, angel.” Crowley said, getting closer to his longtime friend. “I think your friend still hates me.”
You smiled nervously at Aziraphale.
“Do you still hate him, my friend?” the angel asked you, with both his hands together in front of him. His face was looking mischievous, which was something unusual of him. “It didn’t look like it…”
“Oh my god…” you murmured, directing a hand towards your mouth. “You saw us!”
“Saw what, love?” Crowley asked you now, but at the same time smiling at his friend with complicity. “We don’t know what you’re talking about.”
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beastimusprojects · 2 months ago
Text
New post for the Phoenix Story:
Up to chapter 12:
CW for some Suicidal Ideation, General Angst, Mild Body horror, and as of now, one instance of the f-word.
Chapter 1: A Beautiful Night
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            Phoenix finally relaxed.
            As she watched the moon slide over the sun, she relished in the fact that she was now, truly, wonderfully alone. Alone, more than anyone else had probably been in a long, long time. There are, of course, ways to be alone not requiring physical distance, and ways of being together that overcome any distance. But it had been a decade since Phoenix had truly experienced togetherness in any of those ways, and the physical isolation was as absolute as she could imagine it. There was no one within 30 miles of where she sat, on an island that no one knew existed on the edge of where life in the sky had penetrated. No one could get there, the navigational skills required were immense and rare, even in such far-flung places as this.    
            By all rights, trying to get to Phoenix in that moment would be like trying to contact the spirits of the dead.
            It was good to be alone, for it was only in this isolation, which, she imagined, would be for some soul-crushing, that she was finally safe. For the first time in a long time, a decade, exactly in fact (she had felt her 17th birthday as she stepped onto the island,) she was safe. At that thought, a wave of, not happiness, but certainly peace washed over her.
            She knew it wouldn’t last, in two hours her first scar would twinge, and that would bring back memories of the worst time in her life. And she couldn’t sustain the aloneness, if only for purely practical reasons. But she would enjoy it for now.
            She looked up and saw that the moon had finished its arc, leaving only the corona of the sun visible. As the night songbirds started to sing, Phoenix went to find a place to sleep for the first night in a new chapter of her life.
            And what a beautiful night it would be.
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            It was of course a beautiful night, but Orwen didn’t see much of it, despite his perch on the roof of the headquarters of The Hunters. He did not admire the beauty of the stars or the reflection of the ring of fire in the lake, but rather stared into a handheld mirror, running a finger along his scar.
            The scar should have been a thing of beauty, it was a perfect Hunter’s Mark, a thin but bright slash from the inside of his left eye to the right corner of his mouth. By conventional wisdom, he should have been grateful, the mark was only supposed to fall on the greatest hunters.
            But to him, it only reminded him of his greatest failure. Six months tomorrow. Six months since he had fought the hardest fight of his life. Six months since the first time he thought he might die. Six months since he’d fought and killed the greatest of the Seekers, but that had not been what gave him the scar.
            He was the Nitehawk, the greatest hunter of all time, but a lowlife thief had not only beaten him, she’d marked him.
            “You mean nothing,” he told himself he was talking to the scar, “until I find her.”
            He was not there in the morning.
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            “Not so fast Dere! I can see you.”
            As the figure ran along the wall, Hywel knocked an arrow.
            “Not leaving on my watch!”
            He let the arrow fly. It didn’t strike the figure, but it didn’t need to, because Hywel quickly Stepped, and was up on the wall, arrow gripped in his right hand. His left was soon gripping the figure’s coat, which slowly shifted back into its more natural catlike form.
            “Would you believe I was just out for a walk? It’s a very nice night!” Dere exclaimed.
            “No, I don’t believe the words of demons, especially not ones who I catch escaping.” Dere was always unpleasant to deal with. “And now of all times we can’t afford to give you an inch. Not with Scout dead.” Their leader had been killed 6 months prior, and morale had been severely sapped since. The Seekers, and by extension the Alliance of the Sky, had been losing ground fast ever since. They’d already lost control of Nerestar and Dorsinli.
            Hywel wasn’t worried they’d lose the war anytime soon, but it didn’t look good for his chances of ever leaving this post.
As Hywel carried the wretched thing inside, it displayed an array of strategies to avoid its inevitable return to imprisonment. First it pretended to be cute and demure, then it scratched futilely at Hywel’s thick gloves, screaming obscenities that hadn’t been heard by mortal ears in centuries, then it whispered in his ears with that terrible voice, promises of power and wealth. Lies, of course, though, weighed against the prospect of spending the next decade on post guarding the creature, Hywel had to admit to being tempted.
______________________________________________________________ Chapter 2: A wonderful morning.
            Other than blackberries, the island seemed to be almost completely empty. It would be a lot of work to make the place habitable long term, and that would have to include several trips to somewhere habited. But a few trips to get some chickens and sheep and then Phoenix could probably stay here for a long time. Eventually, she would have to build a house, but she didn’t know where she’d get the materials for such a project.
            Its kind of ironic, I guess. To make my fortress of solitude, I have to go to people.
            I can wait a while though.
            She worked to clear a patch out from the blackberries – fire made quick work of the bushes – more so to distract herself than anything else. She didn’t want to think about… well anything really, because everything would eventually trail back to the fact that she had to go to town. Town, where she might encounter someone who knew her and if she found someone who knew her there, that was the only way she could die.
            Why do I always think about death?
            Its irrational, no one will be there, because no one knows I’m here, that’s why I came here in the first place.
            But in the back of her mind, a picture would not cease to form.
            I hate you, Karol. She thought as she clapped her hands, burning away another blackberry bush.
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            Orwen was known for being fast, but right now he was mostly just frustrated. He had tracked slippery prey before, but Phoenix Alkaryl was one of a kind. Six months of searching had seemed only to deepen her cover, and he could still only narrow her location to about a quarter of The Sky, a pitiful performance by any Hunter, let alone The Nitehawk.
            Doesn’t matter how long it takes. I will find her.
            He was pouring over a map (the mirror laid just north of Levias) as he sat on the 11:45 ferry from Nerestar and Dorsinli, a convenient service which, 6 months ago, he couldn’t have used. He was glad the Free Cities were winning the war, if for no other reason than it made his job easier. Phoenix couldn’t be anywhere in Alliance territory, ever since he had killed Scout of the Seekers, the Alliance had closed their borders to all travel, Phoenix was supposed to be a good navigator, but no one got past Alliance gusters.
            If she’s this far off the map, she probably wanted to disappear. So, she probably went outward.
As he left the boat, he caught a glimpse of something he’d never seen before in an alley. A tall woman, wearing golden chainmail, one side of her face, covered in burns, with three of her limbs replaced with prosthetics. Their eyes met, and she smiled with one half of her face. A Valkyrie, they were all supposed to be on the Levian front. He tried to walk quickly away, but as he turned a corner, he felt a hand on his shoulder.
“Excuse me, you are the Nitehawk, yes? You’re looking for a girl named Phoenix, right? The one who gave you The Mark?”
“Indeed.”
“I know where to find her.”
______________________________________________________________
            Guarding Dere was hell, and Hywel had been booked for a full week of it. In a way, you could understand its plight, Hywel didn’t like to be cooped up either and Dere had been locked away for 150 years. But in every other way, well, the thing was pure evil. You could feel it, just standing near it, malice almost seemed to radiate off of the beast, and if you met its eyes, you saw nothing but two pools of absolute emptiness, not just nothing themselves, but threating to make you nothing as well. And its smile was dreadful, you knew it was happy with itself, and when you saw it smiling, you couldn’t even hate it, the hate would drain away before you could replenish it. All you could feel was nothing.
            And then there was its voice. It didn’t make any sound, you heard it in your head. It didn’t say anything of any consequence, but it seemed to know everything about you. Or sometimes it would say the most utterly outrageous things, but that was the trouble, after a while of hearing, you sometimes wouldn’t know the difference.
            It was evil. In its most concentrated and loathsome form. Precisely what the Seekers were out to eradicate. Or at least that’s what they said. In the last couple of years, they seemed to mostly be fighting in the war. Capturing and killing things like Dere was precisely what Hywel had signed up for. Though the job mostly consisted of long guarding of the one that had already been captured.
            Sometimes I hate this job.
            You know, if you’d be willing to make a deal, I could give you the power to do all the things you want. Just think of how much better the world could be if you had that power.
            I always hate you.
            It was going to be a long week.
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Chapter 3: A Long Week.
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            Hyla really didn’t constitute a city. But it was enough. Big enough that she could buy chickens and sheep. Big enough that her nerves would never rest. She was only there for a few hours, but her heart pounded the entire time. Her nerves acted up around any large group of people, but they were worse this week than ever. She was constantly reminded by her scars. This week one decade prior had given her so many. A particularly large one panged on her chest as she arrived back on the island, she’d killed the bear, but not before taking a swipe.
            Desperate for distraction, she started planting vegetables, with any luck, she’d get some potatoes before winter hit. Then it wouldn’t be as bad as that first winter she’d weathered. She worked furiously, and the potatoes were all planted within an hour, she’d thought it would take till nightfall.
            Ok, we’ll start building shelter then.
            She dug out a pit, which she preceded to thatch over with blackberries, a task that, blessedly, took her the rest of the week. It was not a complete respite from her thoughts and memories, but it provided some comfort. It wasn’t ideal, but it was critically big enough for all three of her new sheep. They wouldn’t do well outside with how cold outer ring winters could get. Even with her magic, Phoenix had not relished the idea of spending a winter without shelter.
______________________________________________________________             I probably shouldn’t trust her. The Valkyries were a very secretive organization, not known for good faith offerings of assistance. But I can’t just let her go.
            “Where?”
            “The city of Asera.” Asera made as much sense as anywhere else, a Free City on the outer ring with enough people to disappear into, but not enough that you would definitely get caught.
            “Why do the Valkyries know that?”
            “Alkaryl is of special importance to us, whenever she is spotted, we’re the first to know.” A little suspect that the Valkyries have more of a stake than the Hunters, but all right.
            “And why tell me?”
            “You ask a lot of questions.” She raised her eyebrow.
            “Well, sorry if you don’t look like a particularly reliable source.”
            “It’s her time to die.”
            “Thank you for the information.” Orwen turned to go.
            “You misunderstand, I am to accompany you.” Fine by him, passing up the help of one of the most feared fighters in the Sky would only hurt his mission.
            “All right, we leave at once then.”
            She shook her head “I have a few matters to attend to beforehand. Meet me by the northern gate.”
            Orwen tried to dispel his suspicions about the Valkyrie. His instincts were usually right, but he hadn’t slept in a while, and her story made sense, he needed her help to find Phoenix. But something still just wouldn’t sit right. He’d have to tough it out, for the mission.
            Traveling with Sharon was not pleasant, she seemed to be all business, and was pushing Orwen to go faster, despite the fact that he was travelling with almost three times the normal weight. Her face apparently never moved, and she refused to engage in any conversation that wasn’t complaining about how long Orwen’s Speed took to recharge (despite the fact that they were on track to cover two thousand miles in a week.) But thankfully, Orwen’s suspicions subsided, though that might have been more because he was collapsing into bed at the end of each day.
            But, after all this time, he was finally moving forward with his mission.
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            Hywel emerged from his Hell on the fifth day, after 4 sleepless nights in a row, facing two more, when respite finally came.
            “Hywel, you have been summoned to the Chamber.”
            “Thank you, and I’m sorry you have to deal with this thing now.” Hywel gestured to Dere fatalistically.
            “They’re coming with us.”
            “What?”
            The other seeker shrugged, unlocked the cage, and slipped Dere into some kind of collar “I don’t know, I was just told to get both of you.”
            Hywel was led to the doors of the Chamber and then was left with Dere’s leash.
            The doors into the Chamber felt especially heavy on Hywel’s tired hands as he pushed them open. He had been here many times before, but now of all times, it felt imposing. Dere’s whispers had not stopped.
            The Chamber was laden with the scent of old parchment paper and dead spells. It was deafeningly silent, except for a scribe scribbling minutes of the previous engagement, probably an execution, given the somber looks of the Council. They sat on a raised platform, overlooking the whole room, there were seven of them, and all of their choices were final.
“Hywel Sutherland. Seeker Honorable.”
            “I sir.” Hywel snapped to attention.
            “Do you know why you have been summoned?”
            “I was not informed, sir.” He looked up, the center councilmember was the one speaking, Garrel Satia, Killer of a Thousand foes. A garish title, but Hywel was in the presence of legends.
            “A great time has come upon us. For just yesterday a method has been discovered to eliminate the Demon of which you now hold the leash from this world.” Oh, this’ll be good, how do they think they’ll get rid of me this time… Dere’s voice echoed, Dere caught his eye, They try to do this at least once a year, don’t worry, it won’t work, but you might die anyway…
            As if to confirm the cat’s words, another councilmember spoke, Latise SeBorno. “And we are fortunate to have such a dedicated seeker as yourself at this time, for the ritual is not without sacrifice.”
             “You, Hywel Sutherland, Seeker Honorable, have been chosen for this purpose.” This is what they always do, sacrifice loyal subjects for a chance at killing the only thing they fear. By the way, my offer still stands, but this is one of your last times to take it. The last guy didn’t and they let the Nitehawk kill him.
            “What kind of sacrifice does the ritual entail?” Hywel asked.
            “If all goes well, it will leave you exhausted for days” Made up, killing a demon would drain anyone for years… “If the worst occurs, you may have to give your life.” You see?
            A third councilmember spoke up. “It is for this purpose that you have been tested, to prove your loyalty before we asked this of you.” You’ve been guarding my cell for five days, I thought they discovered it yesterday?
            “And what if I refuse?” In response to this question, all seven of them stood up.
            “THE COUNCIL HAS CHOSEN; ALL OF THEIR CHOICES ARE FINAL.”
            Is it too late yet Dere?
            Fortunately for you, it’s never too late to make a deal!
            Ok, I accept. His mind raced, but there was no time to think about this decision. Everything went black.
______________________________________________________________
            It opens its eyes.
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Chapter Four: A first eventful hour.
______________________________________________________________
            Two Levians were sitting at the bar. Phoenix studied them as she sipped on her drink, tea. She’d had to come into town to stock up on food, as winter had started early. Almost a month earlier than it should have. She’d been forced to come inside or be outside in a winter storm. So, she sat in the safest seat in the tavern, a lonely table with a view of the entire space and surveyed the Levians.
            She knew they were from Levias for a number of reasons. The first was that they were loud, she could listen to their conversation from across the room. The second was the woman’s jade earrings, unusual for this region. They had matching upper arm tattoos of a snake eating its own tail, which probably meant that they worked for the Levian government directly.
            These were highly unusual people to be here, but they didn’t seem like bounty hunters. If this hadn't been a very small town, she might have pegged them as tourists. They weren’t wearing rings, so probably not a married couple. They seemed like good friends though, which made Phoenix jealous, though she didn’t really think much of it. She took out her necklace, a piece of wood, polished so smooth that it could have been mistaken for a gemstone. It was a gift from her father, he’d given it to her after her sister died, he was already sick and said he didn’t think he’d last much longer. He died that night.
            “Hey, I really love your necklace.” Phoenix had drifted into her own thoughts and was stunned to see that the Levians had come over to her table. It was the girl who had given her the compliment.
            “Oh, oh, oh, umm, Thanks? I guess.” She stammered.
            “Sorry if I intruded, you were looking kind of sad, and then I saw that we have the same necklace.” The woman pulled out a necklace which was, in fact, almost identical to Phoenix’s.
            “Wow, uh, yeah, its cool.” Not to mention impossible, her father had never been to Levias. “How?”
            “What do you mean “how”?”
            “I mean, this necklace was given to me by my father, who had never been to Levias.”
            “Well, then he got it from someone else, because that’s the only place they’re made.”
            “Weird.”
            “You look like you have a lot of stories you could tell.” The large man commented.
            The woman shot him a look. “I’m sorry about Flynn, he means well but doesn’t understand social cues sometimes. We’ll leave you alone now.”
            “He’s not wrong, you can take a seat if you want.” She gestured to the empty chairs. “I’m Phoenix by the way.”
______________________________________________________________
            Sharon shook Orwen in the middle        of the night.
            He was awake.
            He was running.
He didn’t know what he was running from.
“Get down.”
They both dove.
He thought they had both dove.
His hands were tied behind his back.
            I probably shouldn’t trust her. Orwen’s own thoughts came back to him as he was struck on the head.
He woke up in a dark room, hands shackled to a wall.
            I failed.
            No, I cannot fail, I’ll escape this.
            These are Valkyries, there is no escaping this.
            I’m the freaking Nitehawk, I’ll find a way.
            His thoughts were muddled but quick, probably a concussion. He surveyed his surroundings as his eyes adjusted. He couldn’t make much out.
            Fuck this. He stomped at the ground angrily.
            The cell was small and cramped, with thick iron bars, the shackles were tight enough to cut into his wrists. No way to escape unless he was let out, no way they’d be stupid enough to do that.
            I will escape, I have to. He let out a scream of frustration. But this is going to set me so far back.
______________________________________________________________
            Hywel woke up with a pounding headache and a feeling like dread. But not for the future, but for the past.
            Yeah, the first time does that to you. There’s water on the table behind you, drink all of it. You’ll die if you don’t drink and eat enough, and neither of us want that yet. Dere’s voice in his head. But all he could think about was water.
            He found the jug and downed the entire thing. But when he looked up, he took a step back in shock.
            The scene before him was horror.
            He could recognize the walls of the Seeker complex, but the buildings had been leveled. Everything had been stained pitch black, like the aftermath of a wildfire, though Hywel knew this had been much, much worse.
            And its my fault.
            His entire world started spinning. He felt dizzy. This was his choice. Everyone was dead. It was his fault. His whole life was gone. He chose this. He must have known the deal wouldn’t end well. Everything he stood for, gone in a moment.
            Am I the bad guy now?
            This one question consumed his entire world as he collapsed back onto the ground.
______________________________________________________________
Chapter Five: A second eventful hour.
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            The woman had introduced herself as Persephone, and the large man was Flynn. They had plenty of stories of their own to tell, apparently it had been a while since they’d left Levias, and they’d gotten in no small share of trouble since.
            “And then less than an hour after we get rid of the dragon, what do we see, but a pirate flag. Luckily, our ship has wards for cannon fire, but these are pirates with trained dragons we’re talking about.” Flynn was busily recounting the story.
            “So obviously, we just hightail it out of there, we actually used the wind jar we got from the cyclops incident here, because, come on, pirates with dragons.” Persephone interjected to finish the story.
            “Skull and crossbones with wings? On a background somewhere between yellow and green?” Phoenix thought she knew the pirates in question.
            “Exactly.”
            “Well then, that’ll be Jorge Redbeard. Kinda a nasty guy, I hear it’s not even his natural beard color. I got captured by them once, not for very long, but I did see around the ship.” Phoenix leaned in. “Dragon droppings absolutely everywhere.”
            “Hilarious.”
            There was a pause in the conversation, but Phoenix didn’t want to stop talking.
            “So, what actually brings you all this way from Levias?”
             They looked at each other awkwardly, as if sharing a secret conversation through just their eyes, before Persephone apparently decided this was information that could be divulged.
            “It’s complicated, but the short version is that Flynn is suffering from a terrible disease. We’re looking for a cure.” The levity drained from Persephone’s face as she said this.
            “Oh”
            Flynn waved a hand dismissively “Don’t worry about me, I won’t die… at least not soon, I just can’t go back until I’m cured.” He acted like it was the most reasonable reaction in the world.
            “Where are you going?”
            “It’s a small village, named Ser, there’s a healer there, supposed to be the best.” Persephone was apprehensive.
            “I know him, and he is the best.”
            “How?”
            “It used to be my home.”
______________________________________________________________
            It wasn’t long before someone came to get Orwen. She unlocked the shackles but kept her hand tight on his wrist. Pushing him roughly forward. He didn’t struggle, there wouldn’t be much point yet, he’d been trained for situations like this, he had to follow that training.
            He was led into a large room lit by torches, with a big round table in the middle, surrounded by Valkyries, he could recognize Sharon across the table from him. He was sat down into a chair, and his hands were locked into another set of shackles.
            “Good job people. We caught him.” The Valkyrie in charge spoke to the others. “The Nitehawk, right in our trap.”
            “You just gonna keep gloating?” Orwen was practiced in keeping a calm demeanor.
            “You’re in no position to talk, you fell for it.”
            “I mean, it was a good plan, and lucky timing, you wouldn’t normally be able to do that.”
            “You’re just bitter.”
            “Are you ever gonna tell me why I’m here?”
            The goal was annoyance was keeping the idea that he was completely trapped. This was, of course, not true, these shackles were much looser, he could dislocate his thumbs and slide them right off. But that wouldn’t do him much good right now, surrounded and unarmed, he had to buy time.
            “Why so impatient? It’s not like you’ve got anywhere to go.”
            Orwen smiled. “Actually, you are detaining me from an important mission for the Hunters.” The training was working, and he’d just found his way out, an outward facing window, thirty feet up, not ideal, but workable.
            “Well, if you must know.”
            Monologuing? His respect for the Valkyries was dwindling by the second. The woman in charge was describing gruesome torture methods, but she was putting the implements on the table, about 3 feet in front of him. She had better get fired for such a lapse in judgement. Not that anyone less skilled than Orwen would be able to escape. Then it happened. The guard change, all six subordinate Valkyries filed out of the room through the opposite door, the new ones coming in only a second afterward, but a second was all he needed.
            “I’m really embarrassed for you here.” Orwen said before using Perfection.
            Everything started to move in slow motion. Then his hands were free, then the lead Valkyrie was hit over the head with a large set of thumbscrews. Then he grabbed a spear and vaulted, landing on a ledge 10 feet up. Just 20 more to go, he’d practiced the next move many times. He dashed to the corner, and then using his Speed, ran up the wall, catching the edge of the window and pulling himself up and over onto the other side. He didn’t have any speed left, but he didn’t need it. There was a direct line of sight from here to a dock with a small gondola. He stopped using Perfection, he didn’t need it anymore.
            Clean escape, that’s what they’d trained him for.
            Hywel woke up a second time, but this time, he just stared at the sky.
            I can’t be. I spent my whole life dreaming of fighting… what I am now?
            You’ll destroy yourself thinking like that, believe me I know.
            So, what do I do.
            Distract yourself, anything, I recommend getting off this island and getting us some food.
            I can’t just distract myself from the revelation that I am now everything I know to be wrong.
            What do you think demons have been doing all this time?
            It wasn’t a bad point, so Hywel went looking for a boat, whatever he was gonna do, he needed to get off this island.
______________________________________________________________
            Chapter 6: Godspeed.
______________________________________________________________
            It was decided that Phoenix would accompany Persephone and Flynn to Ser. It was a dangerous choice, Persephone and Flynn were still not much better than strangers, but Phoenix didn’t think that she could let them leave without her, during their conversation, something had stirred within her that she hadn’t felt in a long time, and now that she remembered it, it would be impossible to forget anytime soon.
            It was dumb, of course. She didn’t like it. She’d made the same mistake with Karol, and that had left her with a knife between her shoulder blades.
            But this felt different.
            Of course it did, this time she would take precautions. She wouldn’t let herself get too attached, and she’d remain ready to escape at a moment’s notice. She wouldn’t be trapped.
            Persephone and Flynn’s ship was massive, with three masts and several decks. The fact that they had been able to sail it with no extra crew meant that it almost certainly also had magic. It was truly a beautiful thing. And it was fast. Multiple times the top speed of Phoenix’s little gondola. They had enough space to pen up Phoenix’s animals, and within a day of the end of the storm, they had left for Ser, though, even with such a marvelous ship, traveling a hundred miles in outer ring winter would be nigh impossible without masterful navigation skills. Which was probably the only reason why she’d been invited along.
______________________________________________________________
            Three days and nights in a small gondola adrift in the clouds. Orwen preferred running to boating, but he was competent enough in an emergency, which this definitely constituted. Even though he’d escaped, he’d be hunted down if he wasn’t careful. That’s what had gotten him into this mess in the first place, carelessness, he hadn’t followed his training, he’d been too focused on that one thing that he’d gotten sloppy. He couldn’t afford to get sloppy. He needed to focus on everything all at once. He’d need to do this perfectly to have any chance at completing the mission.
            He finally arrived at his destination. He had no reason to believe that Phoenix was in Asera, but he did have a contact here that might be able to help. He’d been to Asera before, so he knew his way around, but between constantly checking to see if he was being followed and the fog that had been slowly encroaching on more and more of his waking hours due to lost hours of sleep, he missed turns constantly, and actually getting to his destination took him almost two hours.
            Three knocks on the door, pause, repeat, pause, repeat.
            The door was opened, and he was welcomed into a cozy little house with a fire roaring and a meal already cooking. He did not enter but stood in the doorway.
            “You look like absolute crap.”
            “Feel like it too.” Orwen longed to collapse into the guest bed, Bolson always kept it ready. “But I don’t have much time, I gotta get going soon.”
            “Chasing Phoenix still?” “You ought to stay and rest a little, you can’t bring her in in this condition.”
            “You forget who you’re talking to.”
            “All right, all right. You’re in luck, we just got word about her.”
            “Really, where?”
            “Our person trailing the crown prince of Levias saw her leave with them.”
            “So, she’ll be in Ser, and soon.” “That’s a ways away. I better get going. Thanks.”
            Orwen turned to leave.
            “Hey, remember not to run too fast, you’re gonna run yourself to death at this rate.”
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            Hywel had never been very good with boats, but he didn’t know where he was going anyway, so it didn’t matter that he went slowly.
            Where do I go?
            Big island, on the horizon, there’s houses, there’ll be food.
            I know, but after that where? I don’t know what I’m doing anymore.
            Just focus on now, get food, eat it, then you can think about where to go next.
            Do you ever think about anything other than food?
            I think of lots of things that I want.
            Ok, but anything other than what you want right now?
            No, what else would I think about?
            I don’t know. The future, the past, the people around you and what they need. Right and wrong.
            That’s complicated. I prefer food.
            I guess that makes sense. What did the Seekers call you things? Holes in the universe.
            And the very manifestations of hunger and lust, yes, you get it, I eat, and then I go find other things to eat.
            Hywel would not be finding any answers to his problems from Dere, but of course, it wasn’t like he could keep his thoughts to himself, he didn’t know exactly what had happened, but Dere was somehow… a part of him now.
            That’s why you’re evil, I guess. You can’t really be anything else. Unsatisfiable hunger never really helped anyone.
            It helped you.
            At what cost though? Is it even worth it? Considering that my life cost that of others?
            This is why I focus on food. Anyway, we’re here.
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            Chapter 7: A Sight in the Distance.
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            Phoenix looked out from the crow’s nest of the ship across the sea of clouds. She didn’t have to be up here, it was a calm day, and the ship could essentially sail itself. She could have been down on the deck, where Persephone and Flynn were talking. She could be a part of that conversation.
            But she was anxious. She worried about whether this was really a good choice. Her instincts told her that getting too close to these people would end poorly. Like with Karol, and Seria. Her instincts had kept her alive this long.
            And yet…
            Another part of her longed to descend.
            Persephone looked up at the crow’s nest. Phoenix hadn’t come down in a while, she didn’t even think she’d gotten lunch. She was debating whether it would be better to bring her some food, or if she probably needed to be left alone.
            “You should go check on her.”
            “And have to climb all that way?”
            “You could always fly up, I really don’t understand the point of hiding that stuff from her, she seems trustworthy, it’s not like she’s gonna do anything bad to us.”
            “Remember that we’re taking precautions for you. You are way too important to risk like that.”
            “Ok, but we both know you’re gonna check on her. It’s your arms that have to haul you up there.”
            “You could probably throw me.”
            “Is that not more suspicious?”
            “I don’t know.” Persephone left to get some sandwiches.
            “You climbed all that way just to bring me sandwiches?”
            “Indeed, but mostly to check how you’re doing. You’ve been up here for a long time.”
            “Yeah.”
            Phoenix picked up a sandwich off the plate and started eating.
            “You like being alone?”
            “I don’t know if I’d say that.”
            “Then it’s probably just comfortable. You’ve been alone for a long time.”
            “Definitely that.” She took another bite.
            “And going back to Ser is dredging some stuff up.”
            “Going back to your home does that.”
            “It’s not my home, hasn’t been for a long time.”
            “I hear that. I could say the same for where I was born.” Persephone stared wistfully “I assume there’s no family waiting for you?”
            Phoenix shook her head. “I’ve been an orphan since I was 6.” “These sandwiches are really good.”
            Persephone could tell she didn’t want to talk about it. “Thanks, I make my own mustard.”
            Phoenix saw the island of Ser in the distance.
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            Orwen ran.
            The path he was taking had been built recently, to help move supplies for the war effort. Warpaths were always good for him; they took away the requirement for ferries.
            He was using every once of Speed he got, and walking in between uses. This wasn’t the healthiest way to do it, but it was the fastest. He could rest when he’d found her.
            He slept as little as possible. He needed regular sleep, or his Speed wouldn’t work, but he had to keep going. He was so close he could taste it. Several times he’d thought he’d seen Valkyries in the bushes. He didn’t know if he’d know if they were real.
            He was so tired.
            But he had to keep running.
            Run.
            Run.
            Run
            Run.
            Run.
            Run.
            Run.
            Fight.
            They were on him.
            He stabbed.
            They died; he’d hit his mark.
            Run.
            Run
            Run.
            Run
            Run.
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            Hywel ate. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was. He must have eaten every last crumb they had to offer.
            I guess having a demon inside you probably does that. Ok, I ate, now what do I do?
            Probably sleep.
            You’re no help.
            Hey, I just say what I’m feeling.
            Hywel just started walking. He didn’t know what he was looking for, but he hoped he’d know it when he found it.
            Possession seemed to have its merits. Even though he was constantly hungry and sleepy, he didn’t seem to need food or sleep to survive, or at least, he was able to walk without stopping or sleeping for 5 days straight, so that seemed to be the takeaway.
            He finally stopped only when he saw it. The front line of the war. A burning mass of shattered, quickly constructed defenses. They had recently lost a battle. He didn’t know which side they were, and though he might have cared sometime earlier in his life, he couldn’t care less now. All he saw were the dragons.
            You aren’t supposed to use dragons as weapons. In captivity they’re killing machines, and if they get loose, they cause immense amounts of damage, indiscriminately, but in the wild they are gentle giants, and rarely have negative encounters with anything other than sheep.
            The fact that there was a village this close to the front line was a tragedy enough. But there was a village, and dragons. Hywel had no more thoughts.
            It took seconds, or it seemed like seconds, for Hywel to get between the village and the dragons. He had climbed onto the tallest building in town. And he had his bow at the ready already. As soon as the closest beast was within range, the arrow fired, and then Hywel was on the dragon’s back. He didn’t know what he was doing, the power seemed to flow from instinct, not thought, the beast’s throat was torn out and he had leaped to another one.
            It was less than a minute before he landed, standing on top of the last dragon’s corpse, in the center of the village. The villagers didn’t cheer. They had been saved. But not by a hero, but by what was, to the vision of everyone, a monster.
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            It stirs in its nest, looking out over the city.
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            Chapter 8: Continuance.
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            Ser was not like Phoenix remembered. It was a warzone; a battle had broken out recently nearby. Keeping track of the front lines was an impossible task these days. Phoenix hesitated, Flynn and Persephone did not.
            They were immediately in the streets, telling people to get out, to go to their ship if there was nowhere else. Several houses had been hit by projectiles from the battle. Flynn quickly went to work getting people out of them.
            The Firethrower. That’s why the battle was here. Most towns didn’t have one, sole control over one made it almost impossible to attack you, but this town had little value outside of it. Phoenix was running, through the town, through the crowds of people. It was the major threat to the city, but it could be easily neutralized. Until she got to the battle scene.
            This is insane. That didn’t stop her. She threw herself into the mass of soldiers. She was adept at moving through crowds, and she wasn’t wearing the colors that would indicate to either side that she was an enemy. So, it didn’t take her nearly as long as it should have. She didn’t know why she was doing it. She wouldn’t normally risk herself like that. But there wasn’t time to think about that right now.
            The weapon was made of wood, it was trivial to set it alight with her power, though, given its size, it took a while to really start burning. She was outside the crowd of combatants before they started to realize what had happened. Both sides of the battle started retreating quickly, but as she looked back she saw sizeable groups of soldiers peeling off to follow her.
            Drat. She sprinted away as hard as she could. Some of them had horses, she wouldn’t be able to outrun them, but maybe she could get back to the ship before they thought to cut her off. The town looked to have been evacuated successfully. There was a throng of people on the dock. And Flynn and Persephone were… running toward her?
            “What are you doing?”
            “Coming to help you!” Flynn roared.
            “If you didn’t notice, there’s a full army, get to the ship.”
            “We can’t lead them that way, there’s innocent bystanders.” Persephone said.
            “We can’t exactly fight here.”
            “Watch us.”
            Phoenix stopped as she got to them and turned around to face the oncoming army. It was a hundred to three.
            “You’re gonna like this one.” Persephone smiled as she threw off her cloak, revealing a pair of sparkling butterfly wings, which started to flap, as she shrunk within seconds to the size of a squirrel.
            She flew straight towards the oncoming throng, reaching a fast speed before – Phoenix couldn’t believe her eyes – she grew not only to her original size, but fifteen times the size. Digging large furrows into the ground where she landed, and probably more importantly, scaring the horses, and some of the people too.
            “That buys us some time.” Flynn was right. They were chaos now. But it wasn’t over, as a few dozen foot soldiers were still running towards them. “It’s big and flashy, but she can’t maintain that size for very long, she expends enough of her power just staying human sized all the time.” “I don’t suppose you are good at one versus many fighting?”
            “Not really, requires touch.” She held up her hands to indicate she was talking about her powers.
            “Ah, well. I’m sure Persephone will understand that this was necessary. Probably be able to scare these guys off pretty easily.” He turned towards the oncoming soldiers; they were only about 60 cubits away now. He looked towards the sky, and his body started to change.
            Phoenix knew what they were trying to cure now. Ursanthropy.
            Faced with a twelve-foot tall werebear, the soldiers turned tail.
            That was intense. That was insane. Why did I do that?
            Persephone and Flynn were returning to their normal selves as they walked back.
            They didn’t hesitate. I guess I was just following them.
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            There was a point that Orwen got to where he couldn’t feel exhaustion anymore. He couldn’t feel anything anymore. All that was left was determination. He was so close, within mere hours, his mission would be complete.
            There was nothing left to think about but what he would do when he finally saw her face. As he sat eating his dinner – the last dinner before he got to her – he looked into his little mirror (for some reason the Valkyries hadn’t taken it.)
            Soon, it’ll all be worth it.
            He thought of what he’d say to her. What would be a suitable ending line for this, the greatest chase of his life.
            Phoenix Alkaryl, fleet of foot and strong of spirit. I am Orwen Desinor, the Nitehawk, master hunter. You have fled me for too long, but now it is time for this to come to an end.
            He pressed forward, less than a mile left to go.
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            Hywel ate and killed. It was all he could bring himself to do. There was a lot to kill in this part of The Sky, word of him quickly spread, he left quite the impression on those who saw him. He came to understand that people thought of him like a monster, that was how he saw himself, but they knew that if they pointed him in the direction of something evil, he would kill it, it was the only way he clung to the semblance of sanity he had left. He was able to convince himself that even if he was a monster, he could make himself a useful one.
            And Dere was happy to oblige this behavior.
            He caught a reflection of himself in a pool of water. A sunken face, despite all of the food he gorged himself on, he was emaciated. He was taller than he had been (now almost seven feet), but horribly thin, his skin (grey, or purple, or red, or yellow depending on where you looked) hung off of him in most places, as if it was made for a much larger man. His joints hung loose, constantly either horribly stiff or horrifyingly flexible.
            It reminded him of why he was doing what he was doing. He wanted to die, but he couldn't justify doing it in any other way. And so he ripped and tore through the other monsters in these islands, he didn’t know where he was anymore, but he didn’t care.
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            Chapter 9: Face to Face.
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            Qualos wasn’t there. He had died months before, not from the war, but of consumption, the same thing that had killed Phoenix’s father and sister years before. There had been an outbreak, leading to the deaths of dozens of people. There wasn’t anyone left who cared about Phoenix’s exile. Which should have been a relief, it was convenient for her. But she couldn’t be happy about death.
            The damage from the battle wasn’t huge, all things considered, only a few people were injured, and the people who lived in the destroyed houses found other places to stay, at least for the time being. But there was quite a bit to do, and it was almost an hour after the fighting had stopped before Flynn and Persephone approached Phoenix again.
            “So, I’m guessing you have questions?”
            “Not really, I think the fact that you’re a fairy with growth powers and Flynn is a Werebear is evident enough.”
            “That’s not exactly it though.”
            “Hmm.”
            “Flynn is also the crown prince of Levias.”
            “Nice.” Phoenix smiled. She wasn’t especially surprised, the giant fairy thing had kind of prepared her for anything. “Ok, so we got a disgraced prince in exile until he can find a cure for his Ursanthropy, and his guardian slash best friend, the two-inch-tall fairy who pretends to be a human but can also be the size of a giant. Anything else?”
            “That’s essentially it.” “None of that is surprising you?”
            “I’ve had a weird life. Traveling thief isn’t a career for the faint of heart. And honestly, that’s a pretty logical explanation for two Levians with a massive, fancy ship traveling alone to a tiny village at the edge of The Sky.”
            “So where do we go now?” Flynn asked. “I mean, this is a dead end.”
            “For a cure for Ursanthropy?” “The only other possibility is Core.” “That’s a long way though. We need to leave as soon as possible.” Phoenix started towards the ship, she didn’t really want to spend any more time here than necessary, there was no closure here anymore to the pain this town had caused her.
            “Is there nothing else you want to do while we’re here?” Persephone asked.
            “Nope, I told you, this used to be my home.”
            “Well, we can’t leave just now, we have to buy some supplies if we’re going on that long of a trip.”
            Phoenix settled on wandering around the town for a few hours, she’d be couped inside the ship for long enough soon.
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            She was right there. He could see her. The journey was over, there was only one thing left for Orwen to do.
            “Phoenix Alkaryl, strong spirited and fleet of foot. I am Orwen Desinor, the Nitehawk. You have fled for a long time, but it is time for this to end. Have you any final words?”
            “Orwen! Nice to see you! It’s been a while.” Phoenix turned around. “Nice speech. A few comments. First, my name is Alkaryl, it’s Liventis, Alkaryl was my mother, though you Hunters probably only have us under her name from the military records. Second, you will not be capturing me today.” She held her dagger close. This would be a hard fight. But he would be attempting to take her in alive, which she knew wasn’t his specialty. She clapped her hands as she said “Ok, let’s do this.”
            This was a distraction tactic, intimidation like this was a Hunter thing. He ignored her and started channeling Perfection he was low on both of his powers, he needed to get this over quickly. And he only had one knife, so throwing was out. He closed the distance quickly, ducking under her first attack and jabbing into her stomach, before dashing back out of reach.
            She was clutching her side where he had stabbed her, but also… smiling? “You’ll have to do better than stabbing old wounds.” Indeed, as she took her hand away from her side, she revealed a charred hole in her shirt, and underneath a large amount of old scar tissue, and the newly cauterized wound.
            He dashed back in, he couldn’t sustain Speed or Perfection much longer, he needed to end this now. Her knife was red hot as she took a swing at him. A torso strike wouldn’t do much to her, she was apparently practiced fighting through the pain, maybe if he hit her wrists? He ran out of Speed, he should have saved some up, but he had been in a hurry. He was still able to perfectly parry the knife, knocking it out of her hands. He turned to strike at her body again as he saw his fatal mistake, with no speed left to dodge it. He’d been focused on the knife; he hadn’t looked at her other hand. It landed on his shoulder, red hot. He blacked out from the pain, he barely had time to scream.
            He had failed.
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            Dere saw fear. Hywel saw justification. Or at least a route to it. It was a horrifying scene. Thankfully Hywel knew it wasn’t happening, yet this was the future.
            People screamed. The streets ran red with blood. Hywel didn’t know what was going to cause it, but he thought Dere did. It didn’t matter, he knew he could stop it.
            A beast lingered over the bodies of the people it had slain, licking its lips. Hywel almost cheered. This was what he was looking for. If he was to be a monster, if all that he would be able to do was kill, he could kill this thing, he got the sense that it was the biggest monster of all.
            It cannot be killed. Dere’s voice was panicked. Do not look for it, you will die.
            I think that’s the goal.
            No, you cannot kill this, it is not some small beast. Even we fear it.
            Well, if demons fear it, then it must be evil. Maybe I can find the justification I’m looking for.
            Do you know what happens to me if you die?
            You’ve been fine with it until now.
            Only because you haven’t been after things that I couldn’t beat. That’s no dragon, that’s… IT.
            Well, we better find a way to kill it. Because I’m doing it either way.
            Hywel saw where it would happen, Core. And then he thought he saw It look right at him.
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            Chapter 10:
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            “We can’t really do anything else except wait for him to wake up.” Persephone had treated Orwen’s burn. It wouldn’t heal completely, Phoenix had only touched him for a second, but the heat had immediately caused a bright white handprint to form, and parts were brown or almost black. “It’s a pretty bad burn, and I think that he was already pretty exhausted, but he should survive.”
            “How long until we’re able to leave?”
            Persephone knew what Phoenix meant; she didn’t want to be here when Orwen woke up. “I don’t want to leave him here; this town doesn’t have anyone trained enough to treat him.” “If that gets infected, and no one is here to help him, he’ll die.” “And quick or not, he can’t get himself to the next town.”
            Phoenix understood that Persephone didn’t want to be responsible for his death, Phoenix didn’t want to either, especially not in this town, but still... “So, we just take him with us?” “Did you forget he tried to kill me?”
            “Yeah, if we’re going to go, we should take him.“ Persephone looked over at where Flynn was “and we need to leave.” She looked at Phoenix “look, I get that you don’t want to travel with him, maybe this is where we leave you.”
            Phoenix balked at that, but she didn’t know why. Yeah, that was the most logical answer. But, for some reason…
            She shook her head “no, you need me if you’re going to navigate all the way to Core.” She was fighting to stay with these people? She’d fought long and hard to get to where she was, she’d gotten paid already, she should just let them go and go back to her little island. Was she really going to choose traveling with the assassin that had hunted her for months.
            Yes, yes, she was. “Look, so long as he’s injured, I don’t think he poses much of a threat. As soon as he can walk though, we drop him off.”
            “Absolutely. And we can keep him in a locked room too.” Persephone smiled; she was glad Phoenix wanted to stay with them. “Hey Flynn, come over here, help me get this guy loaded up so we can leave.”
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            Orwen didn’t wake up for almost a day, when he did, he was on his stomach on a large, soft bed in the belly of a rocking ship. His entire back ached, but the pain was by far the worst on his left upper back. He tried to get out of bed, but twisting his body only made it much worse.
            “I wouldn’t try that” Persephone brought in some food. “your left shoulder sustained some nasty burns.” “We definitely need to keep you in bed for at least a few days.”
            “Who are you? Also, where am I?”
            “Oh, yeah, that. Well, we couldn’t exactly just leave you in a town with no doctors with that kind of burn. But we really needed to get going. So, we brought you on board.” “I’m Persephone by the way.”
            “Do you know where Phoenix went?”
            “She’s here too. But I wouldn’t try anything.”
            “She’s here!? Why would you let me travel with her?” Orwen was ecstatic, though confused, maybe he hadn’t failed after all.
            “The other option was to essentially leave you for dead. No one wanted that.”
            Kinda stupid, I would have left her for dead in a heartbeat. But I probably need to pretend to play along for now.
            “All right, I assume I’m at least locked in this room though?”
            “And your daggers are locked up in a closet on the other side of the ship, yeah, we weren’t gonna take that chance.”
            Persephone left, and Orwen started eating his food, he’d be coming up with some sort of plan to complete the mission, but for now, he needed to sleep, his back was killing him.
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            Hywel finished climbing the hill. Core was a long way away, so he’d need to pace himself. He’d made good progress; he’d walked nearly 40 miles over the last couple of days. Though, at some point he would have to find a way to increase the pace, he’d probably need to get a ship, he had a sense that what he’d seen would happen in a matter of months, and he needed to travel a lot.
            As he knelt beside the pond, he scooped up some water to drink, he hadn’t had a sip in weeks, he didn’t need it. And he looked at his reflection.
            It was, better, or at least, less bad. The color was starting to return to parts of his face, and the bags under his eyes had shrunk significantly, he’d slept for the first time in a while. His increased height had not diminished, he still stood almost seven feet tall, compared to his natural 5 foot 4, but he looked significantly less emaciated.
            What has happened to me? Is it really newfound purpose, or am I just getting used to being a monster?
            Dere remained silent, he suspected he was being given a form of cold shoulder for his choice.
            He was still drenched in blood, so he used this opportunity to bathe. His clothes were mostly ruined, and none of them fit well anymore.
            I need to get new ones; I’ll need to be some manner of presentable if I expect to be able to get a ride to Core.
            His hair had grown ragged, it was long, but it had been falling out in tufts. He was surprised to see that he still he still had his dagger. He cut as much of the hair off as he could, better bald than patchy. He left his beard.
            Wait, that’s odd, I couldn’t grow one before.
            Sometimes that happens. Dere spoke up for the first time in a while. If your hair comes back, it might come back curly too. Possession does weird things to human bodies.
            Oh, I hear you’re speaking up again.
            Just here to remind you that if you are doing hygiene, you should trim your nails, they look like claws.
            Indeed, they did.
            You deciding to be helpful all of a sudden?
            Maybe if we get you back in civilized society, I can convince you not to kill yourself.
            Not a chance. Hywel smiled as he scrubbed the blood from beneath his fingernails, the first time in at least two months that he had smiled. But I appreciate the sentiment.
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Chapter 11: A long trip
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            Phoenix sat on the deck, this area of the sky was calm, which meant slow going, but also not a lot to do as a navigator, so she was sharpening her knife.
            “It’s a beautiful thing, glad to see you’re keeping it in good shape.” Flynn sat down beside her.
            “It’s broken, it used to be able to fold, it also used to have a wooden handle.” Repetitive heat had fused the tang and the blade together, she’d had to weld additional metal onto it several times to keep it usable, the handle had now been shaped to almost exactly fit her hand.
            “Put another way, it’s been shaped into exactly the right shape for its use.” “Weapons designed for magic have to be unique, that’s what makes them beautiful.”
            “Every time I use it in battle, I have fix it up again, otherwise the blade warps.”
            Flynn nodded “yeah, it’s a lot of work to hone after every fight, but what you get in return is a perfectly natural tool. I’ve seen how you fight; you use that knife like an animal uses claws, I would know.” He balled his hands up into fists.
            “How does it feel?” Phoenix asked.
            “Being a Werebear?”
            “Yeah, that”
            “It’s not bad. It’s never been the being so much as the being seen as that’s the problem.” “When I actually transform, all I feel is the power of it, like I can do anything I want to.” “That’s kind of the worst part too, is coming out of it, and not feeling that anymore.”
            “Feeling like you can’t actually change anything that matters.”
            “Yeah, that”
            “And then comes the fear, that you’ll be trapped, and something bad will happen to you.”
            “I don’t know about that; I’ve been living on borrowed time for a while. It’s more so feeling that I’m trapping her.”
            “Persephone?”
            “Yeah, she cares a lot, and she’s determined that I have to survive.”
            “You won’t die though.”
            “Not from ursanthropy directly, no, but my father, as much as he pretends. Well, we think he’s the one sending people after us. We talk a big game, but we barely survived the last attack, I don’t think we, I, make it all the way to Core.”
            “He would do that?” Phoenix was astounded.
            “He was willing to when we were back in Levias, said he ‘couldn’t allow exceptions to the rule of law’, even for his own son.” “I think he’s always seen me as less than my brothers, might have just been looking for an excuse.”
            “I can’t even imagine that.”
            Flynn smiled, trying to cut the gloominess of the conversation “don’t feel too bad, at least I got to grow up as a prince.”
            “I mean, that doesn’t make any of that less tragic…”
            “I don’t care that much, I’ve just kinda dealt with it.”
            “That doesn’t work.”
            Flynn raised an eyebrow.
            “Running from your feelings I mean.” “Believe me, I’ve tried.”
            “I wouldn’t call it that… I’ve just got, thick skin, that’s it.” “It doesn’t get to me.”
            “Must be nice.”
            “You’ve been running though?”
            “Until it catches up with me.”
            “And then you fight like a cornered animal.”
            “That’s one way to say it.”
            “Like, not trying to kill it, just make it go away.”
            “I don’t like killing.”
            Flynn nodded. “Does anyone really like it?”
            “The last time I killed I broke my dagger.”
            “That must be a good story.”
            Phoenix looked at him seriously, “it was a bear, it almost killed me, gave me this” she pulled her sleeve up to reveal a nasty bite mark on her shoulder “but I killed it. I don’t like killing, so I haven’t killed since, I just run, and when I’m cornered.” “Well, if you don’t want to kill, you have to learn to inflict pain instead.”
            “A lot of it.”
            “Yeah, that.”
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            Orwen lay in bed. The room had no windows, which, on a boat this fancy looking, probably meant it was toward the bottom. The walls were likely to sturdy to have a hope of breaking through, and there was no access to the door lock from this side, so picking wasn’t going to be an option. The only way he would be able to break out would be to jump Persephone when he brought him his food. If he did that, he could probably escape, assuming they didn’t have someone watching for him immediately outside the door.
            His wound had healed considerably since he had come aboard the ship, but he strictly speaking still needed more rest. This, combined with his reluctance to assault Persephone, she seemed like such a nice person, led him to conclude that his best chance for completing the mission lay in a more, diplomatic approach. Gain their trust, lead them as close to Hunter headquarters as possible, and then bring Phoenix in at the last possible minute. He probably also wanted to save as much Speed and Perfection as possible. That meant sleep and food, easy enough, whoever was cooking the food was an amazing chef.
            “I hope you’re hungry” Persephone walked in, talking in the sweet, almost sing-song tone she usually used with him, “we’ve got something delicious today, Phoenix made Borscht, I hear it’s a family recipe.”
            “Does Phoenix normally cook? I’ve been wondering who it was.”
            “Ever since we found out she’s absolutely amazing at it, we’ve refused to even touch a pot.”
            After he tasted the soup, wonderfully meaty, he said “probably the right call.”
            “From what I can tell, she just appreciates having this full of a set of ingredients.” “How’s your shoulder?”
            “Much better, thank you. It’s been feeling better every day.”
            “Well,” she turned to leave “let me know if you need anything else.”
            “Hey, Persephone”
            “Yes?”
            “Seriously, thanks for doing this for me, most people I know wouldn’t.”
            She walked away smiling. Exactly what Orwen needed.
______________________________________________________________
            Hywel ran now. He had avoided crossing the war line before, but he could no longer. But the borders were closed, so there wasn’t an easy way to get across. And what was more troubling was that he had alerted seekers to his location. They had been tracking him down, whatever remnant of the Seekers was left apparently had capturing him as their first priority.
            So, he was running, both from half a dozen trained Seekers and a large contingent of soldiers, who had at least a few boats. Thankfully, the wind was low today, so the boats couldn’t outrun his enhanced speed. He would have been captured ages ago if not for a confluence of lucky factors. He would almost definitely be captured soon, he knew where he was, and he had studied this area, Seekers were required to know the general layout of all the land around the war line. This road was old and would run out in less than a mile.
            He didn’t want to have to fight them. They didn’t stand a chance, with Dere’s help he could probably have plowed through the entire alliance army, but he wouldn’t be able to avoid killing them, enough people had died needlessly because of him already.
            So, he’d have to figure out a way to escape.
            There’s the end of the road. Nothing within a thousand feet.
            Two thousand feet out, there’s a rock, with a running start I can get you most of the way, and then shoot an arrow.
            If I’m even a little short though…
            You could always turn around and fight!
            No.
            He stopped about a dozen feet short of the edge, turned around and surveyed the oncoming army, and then he looked over the edge, nothing. If he fell, he would be falling forever.
            I wouldn’t take that risk if I were you, you have choices here. Instead of throwing yourself over the possible suicide gap, you could stand and fight or let yourself get captured and break out later.
            Hywel took a deep breath. No, if I want to believe I can be redeemed, there is no choice.
            He backed up and took a running start. With Dere’s power, he launched himself across 100 feet, 500 feet, 1000, 1500, he just had to shoot this arrow 250 feet, not the easiest, but he could do it.
            He knocked the arrow, drew, and shot. It raced toward that solitary rock…
            And missed.
______________________________________________________________
Chapter 12: Impossibilities
______________________________________________________________
            The wind had picked up, it was howlingly fast, the middle ring was known for wild changes in weather, but this was stronger than Phoenix had seen in a long time.
            “If this keeps up, we’ll be in Dorsinli this afternoon.” She had to shout to be heard over the wind.
            “Really? It feels like we just left Nerestar.” Flynn shouted back. It had taken three weeks to get from Ser to Nerestar, but only four days to get to where they were. “We’re making good time!”
            “Remember that the distance from the middle ring to the inner ring is longer, and from the inner ring to Core, that’s going the feel interminable.”
            “That’s not what the map shows.”
            “I forget that you haven’t been farther in than the capital of Levias.” “Let me finish tying this up then I’ll come down and explain it.” The sail needed to be secured better, she finished tying the knot and then quickly climbed down the netting.
            “Ok, so this is weird for people who were born on the Outer Ring, like us, but I forget that they don’t teach it in Levias, given that it only has territory in the Outer Ring.” “As you get closer to the middle of the map, it gets less accurate.”
            “Couldn’t they just draw the map better.”
            “No, see, there is no actual middle of the Sky. The radius is infinite.”
            “How does that work?”
            “No one really knows, but if you walk towards where the middle would be, you just find more sky. So, as you get closer to the middle, the map can’t be drawn right, because the circumferences of concentric circles still decrease.”
            “That’s not geometrically possible” Flynn looked at Phoenix with a side eye.
            “Thus, why the map doesn’t show it. But anyway, what it means is that each ring is significantly smaller around than the outer ones but the chords across them are increasingly long with respect to their circumferences.”
            “Wait, wouldn’t that mean that they get to the point where its quicker to go around the circle than across it.” Flynn looked fully confused.
            “Indeed, it depends on how far in the middle ring, but in the inner ring, every two points can be reached in less distance by a circular path than a straight one through the inside.”
            “Hey Persephone, have you heard this before?” She’d just gotten back from taking Orwen his food.
            “What is it?”
            “I was just explaining hyperbolic space to Flynn here.”
            Persephone’s face scrunched up in disgust. “I’m so glad I don’t have to navigate anymore.”
            “Yeah, it only gets worse as you get further in, but it’s that or stay here with the bad weather.” Phoenix had learned the hard way, navigating by yourself out of even the middle ring was insanity.
            “Hey Phoenix, Orwen wanted to say something to you.” “I told him you probably wouldn’t come.”
            “Can I have Flynn outside the door?”
            “Sure, I’ll stand guard.”
            “Then there’s not much to worry about.”
______________________________________________________________
            Orwen was surprised to see Phoenix come in.
            “You came?”
            “Yeah, there’s not much reason not to. I don’t have a lot else to do today.”
            “I just wanted to say”
            “You’ll say you’re sorry, I honestly don’t believe you. And it’s ok by the way. For you to hate me. I’d rather be on a ship with a thousand people who hate me openly than one who pretends to like me.”
            Orwen opened his mouth to speak, but Phoenix raised a hand. “And don’t say it was only professional, we both know that’s not true; no one runs themselves that ragged for a job.”
            I do sometimes Orwen thought probably too often, but there was no point in trying to convince Phoenix that he was, merely, following orders. “You’re right, it was personal.” “Still is. You have to know I still want to take you in.”
            “Yeah, I figured that.”
            “So, why’d you agree to travel with me.”
            “It’s my principal flaw. I get too attached to people, I can’t leave.” She shrugged “They betray me, or they leave.” She said it in a nonchalant tone. “That’s why I have so many of these.”
            “You know I could kill you right now if I wanted.”
            “Oh, believe me, I know. But I’m not stupid, I wouldn’t have come if I thought there were a chance of that.” “You have to take me in alive.”
            He did indeed.
            “Not that alive.”
            Phoenix chuckled at that one. “Hey, can you walk yet? I wanna show around the ship.”
            “Now why would you do such a thing? I just threatened to kill you.”
            “Oh, you’re so serious about the whole assassin thing. Its gonna grind your gears so hard to know you can’t bring me in yet.”
            That much was true, it frustrated him to no end, but he wanted a distraction, and this sort of played into his plan. Though, what Phoenix had said about people betraying her got to him a bit. Just a bit. “Yeah, I can walk, let’s see it.”
______________________________________________________________
            Hywel was only falling for a minute, but it felt like an eternity, by the time he realized that the first arrow had missed, he had no time to shoot another.
            Well, this is how it ends, I guess. At least I’m taking you down with me.
            He must have been almost a mile below the island when he felt a firm grip on the back of his shirt.
            “Well, thank goodness, you’re a lot lighter than you look.”
            He looked up, astonished to see a woman with two giant feathered wings sprouting from her back. She could only be described as radiant, quite literally seeming to glow, as if something within her could not be contained, and was struggling to be free.
            She managed to drag him all the way up to the rock he had been aiming for. They could see the soldiers gathering at the end of the path.
            “Ah, don’t worry about them, we’re almost past the border already, they won’t chase us any farther.” “I’m Karol by the way.”
            “Hywel” “How, how did you find me?”
            “If you didn’t notice, everyone on this side of the Sky has been following you for almost a month. I’ve been tailing you for a while, to make sure you don’t do anything stupid, like taking a plunge into the Void.”      “Hey, I’d love to chat later, but we need to get going, they won’t follow us across the border, but we have about 1000 feet left.”
            They traveled a pretty good distance, the rocks were close enough now that Hywel could jump between them.
            “Sorry if this is offensive” Hywel started talking almost as soon as they had stopped “but what’s with the wings?”
            “A recent thing, possession works weirdly.”
            “Wait, you have a demon too?”
            She raised an eyebrow “you don’t know much about how this stuff, do you?”
            “Not a demon, then?”
            She shook her head “no, demons are spirits of emptiness. Mine is a devil, a spirit of fullness, of bursting and limitless possibility.”
            You’ve been awfully silent about this whole affair Dere.
            Demons and Devils don’t mix. We kill each other.
            “That seems infinitely preferable to mine.”
            “Oh, it is, I wouldn’t have hunted down a demon.”
            “You mean, you actually wanted to be possessed?”
            “It’s a marvelous power, I wanted to be strong, so I could help people, I failed before.” “I think you’re the same, we both want to cleanse the world of its evil. That’s why I followed you.”
______________________________________________________________
@brokendarkfairyempressforever
@hijabi-flavored-nerd
I fixed a few things. Its almost 13 thousand words now, by far the longest thing I've ever written, and getting close to the halfway point plot-wise, which means that technically this will probably end up at Novella length (Its already 30 pages in the Word document I'm writing in).
Actually, I'm gonna tag some of my other mutuals as well, I won't tag you again though unless you want to...
@queenpiranhadon
@nervousscissorsgoopthing
@betanian117
@justalunaticfangirl
@shrxe
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cantwritethetword · 3 months ago
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(2024) TickleTober Day 2: Scared - Turn it off
Fic Descript - While finishing his late-night duties, Merlin finds Arthur wide awake in his bed in a bit of a panic. Luckily, the manservant has an idea on how to stop the king's mind from spiraling further.
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~A/N  -
Day 2 for TickleTober2024! I've had the idea for this fic kind of floating around in my head for a while so I'm excited to see how it turns out!
- Enoy! ~
Tag List: @fullsongphilosopher
Masterpost Link 
TickleTober Masterpost
Some would argue the castle at night is an unnerving experience. The usual bustle and business of the corridors replaced with eerie silence and empty space, each near-silent sound echoing through the halls tenfold compared to where it would normally be absorbed by daily kingdom life.
To Merlin though, this was the only moment of peace he had the privilege of enjoying. Nobody yelling his name to give him yet another task, nobody questioning what specific job he was completing or whether it was worth doing. Just him and the concrete walls he lived in, especially now that he practically knew the guard's routes and could easily avoid a quick but still awkward acknowledgement of each others existence.
At least, that was the way it usually was.
As he made his way silently into the king's chambers to return some freshly cleaned shirts, his eyes settled on the pale figure hunched on the edge of the bed and facing the window.
Merlin pushed away his immediate reaction of concern and rolled his eyes, trying to convince himself it was just Arthur being strange - nothing to worry about. If anything it was just an inconvenience that meant he would have to return later to put away the washing.
Merlin slowly turned towards the door, not realising one of the shirts had caught on the edge of a silver chalice sitting on Arthur's dresser. The clattering sound made both men jolt, but what truly took Merlin aback was Arthur's face.
The king looked like he had seen a ghost. Sweat was beading on his forehead, dark circles decorated his eyes, and his face was sunken and pale.
"Are you alright?" Merlin asked before he could think, his tone more genuine than he had ever used with Arthur.
"I'm fine." Arthur replied flatly, quickly wiping his face and standing up to walk around the bed closer to Merlin. "Completely fine."
Well that was worrying. Merlin thought. Where was the usual insult? The bickering? The 'what are you doing in my chambers?' questions? Clearly something really was wrong.
"Arthur you look awful." Merlin continued, moving closer to where Arthur stood.
That at least earnt a half-snicker as Arthur sunk onto the bed with his head in his hands. "I suppose I do."
Deciding that was as good an invitation as any, Merlin sat next to his king and continued. "What's the matter?"
Arthur shook his head. "I just can't sleep."
Even though he knew Arthur couldn't see, Merlin gave him a look. "Right. What's actually going on?" He accompanied the question with a light shoulder bump. "Is it the duel tomorrow?"
The king took a breath, running a hand through his hair. "I think so?"
Merlin nodded, "ok-?"
Arthur thrust his hands down. "But I don't know why! It's not like I haven't fought before!" He exclaimed, flopping backwards onto the mattress. "I'm good with a sword, and it's only a duel! A game! Childs play!"
"Well there's a lot at stake for you, game or not." Merlin rationalised (once he had recovered from the sudden snap of Arthur's rare outpour of feelings). "You represent your people and your knights, and everyone knows how important it is right now to create a bond with your opponent's kingdom. No wonder you're nervous."
There was a pause, and Merlin hoped it was Arthur truly contemplating what he had said.
Arthur sighed and let out a breathy chuckle as he propped himself up on his elbows. "Once again Merlin, I find myself in awe of your random, uncharacteristic wisdom and empathy."
"And once again I can't tell if that's a compliment." Merlin replied without missing a beat.
Arthur laughed again - a little more naturally this time - as a soft silence settled over the room. With anyone else this level of quiet would feel unbearably awkward, but somehow it brought comfort to the pair (though under normal circumstances both would stubbornly blame it on the relief of the other finally shutting up).
"In all seriousness though," Merlin spoke after a few moments. "You need sleep."
"How can I." Arthur asked, his voice weaker than Merlin had ever heard it. "I've been up the last three nights tossing and turning but it's like my mind won't stop replaying all the awful things that could happen." He once again flopped flat onto his back. "It's plagued my every thought... To be honest, tonight's the first time i feel like I've smiled in days."
Merlin couldn't help but warm a little at that, even more so at the idea bubbling at the back of his mind. "I could help you smile a little more, if you'd like?"
That earnt a chuckle. "You're not going to tell me your awful jokes, are you?" Arthur asked sarcastically.
With a playful scowl, Merlin poked the king's outstretched side - making Arthur flinch with a giggle.
Weirdly enough though, Arthur didn't move to protect himself from another attack. And, a genuine smile remained settled on his face staring at the ceiling.
Merlin was smirking at this point, taking his majesty's response as a quite-literal open arms invitation to continue.
As soon as Merlin scooted himself closer to Arthur and began poking the man's ribs, it was as if Arthur's conscious remembered he should be protesting.
"Mer-Merlin wait!" Arthur stuttered, that genuine beam still gracing his features as his hands caught the Warlock's. "If you mean you're going to... to-... Merlin no that's... that's childish..."
"Well you wanted to smile, didn't you?" Merlin grinned, catching both of Arthur's hands with one of his own and pushing them above the king's head. "Seems to be working so far."
Arthur spluttered out segments of begging in between anticipatory giggles, pushing at Merlin's hands all the while. "Merlin wahait! I cahan't- I'll- Plehease!"
Merlin rolled his eyes, trying to look nonchalant. "I haven't even done anything yet you big baby." - but he couldn't help the soft grin painting his face.
As Merlin's fingers touched down against Arthur's torso, Arthur thrust the last of his energy into attempting to maintain his ruse of denial. Denying that this would help, denying that this was what he needed, denying that Merlin could possibly have a good idea.
But Arthur quickly realised just how gentle Merlin was actually tickling him - how the servant was scuttling his fingers with just enough pressure to make him laugh while still being able to breathe easily. And once he noticed Merlin wasn't actually pinning his hands anymore - Arthur found he was really fighting against something else.
The fact that he was secretly adoring the teasy attention, that he was loving how his overthinking brain had been happily overwhelmed and overpowered by the playful threat. And most of all, grateful he could trust Merlin not to take it any further.
So he let himself laugh. Let himself fall into the unbearable sensations and completely float away from anything that was worrying him. He could stress about his royal image or how much Merlin would hold this above him later. He was finally ok.
When Merlin's fingers eventually slowed, Arthur couldn't get himself to stop smiling.
And even when the anxiety of tomorrow's looming competition threatened to send Arthur into another panicked spiral, the memory of Merlin's tickle attack flooded his brain and thrust a blushing grin onto his face all over again.
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