#his wings flap when he's cold to create heat

[thekittyfox2999]

the fanfic has consumed me and now- now this exists

au where john is secretly a bee. and when he reveals this info, sherlock doesn't mind.

and when they retire john helps look after the hive <3

(oh god- i just realized this could be taken in a kink context okay-)

(eh whatever- i already worship words on a 130 year old book daily)

[iliveiloveiwrite]

Nightmares to Dreams // General Kirigan/The Darkling

Request: Hii i would like to request angst for kirigan where he and reader are in love. The part on s1 where they were inside the fold and he was expanding it and as he was doing so, reader was injured then reader was dying or smt then suddenly everything was just a dream when reader woke up - anon

A/N: Thank you so much for your request! I really enjoyed writing this, I hope you like it! I haven’t written in a very long time so I’m still getting used to things!

Warnings: angst to fluff, nightmares, mentions of violence, upset, comforting, hurt/comfort.

Word count: 1.5k

The first thing you notice is the drop in temperature; your teeth clatter together and goosebumps cover every inch of skin that is bared to the elements.

The second thing that registers is the noise; the terrible, frightening noise of the Volcra as they swarm above you, wings flapping as they look for their next meal.

The final thing you come to notice is Kirigan, stood metres away from you, arms raised in semblance of a victorious pose.

You call out to him; your voice landing on deaf ears for he doesn’t move, doesn’t even acknowledge your desperate pleas. Fear begins to choke you; cutting off your pleas, your begging. The blood in your veins turns to ice as you come to realise what the love of your life plans to do.

Each and every step towards him is a challenge. The threat of the Volcra combined with the unknown from Kirigan creates an atmosphere that could rival even the lowest circle of hell.

Darkness swirls around Kirigan; his power coming out to play now that he has an audience. You watch, tears silently falling down your face as the fold begins to expand.

You try one last time. His name – a blessing in the past, said with love and joy now tastes bitter as you beg him to stop, to think again.

It all comes to a stop – every thought, every word – when the claws of a Volcra rip through your kefta to the skin below.

His name dies on your lips as the Volcra’s claws dig deep into your body. The pain is too much; searing heat rushing through your body, a scream lodged in your throat as your vision begins to fade. The last of your strength, as the Volcra flaps its enormous wings, goes toward looking at the love of your life to find you barely even recognise him at all.

—————————————

You wake with a start, panic turning your veins to sludge as you take a minute to get used to your surroundings.

A bedroom. Four walls; two large windows, black curtains.

A bed. Four-poster, dark sheets, not alone.

Wiping the sweat from your brow, you turn to see Kirigan still sound asleep, utterly unaware of the nightmare you had just faced. A pang of envy hits you, jealous of his ability to sleep through just about anything.

Your heart rate slows to its normal rate; the adrenaline leaving your body just as swiftly as it had arrived, leaving you cold and on edge. Rubbing a hand across your face, you know you were not about to fall back asleep so easily.

Leaving the bedroom, you cast a single glance to the man still sleeping peacefully. Despite everything, a fond smile settles on your lips at the sight. Kirigan looked so much younger in sleep; less burderned by the world, and by his power. An arm stretched above his head, he turns his face inwards to his elbow, letting out a quiet snore as sleep pulls him further under.

You head immediately for Kirigan’s favourite spot; a loveseat just big enough for the both of you. You couldn’t count on one hand the hours you had spent on here, entwined with Kirigan, talking of nothing and everything all at once.

It’s cold when you sit down; the warmth having been leeched from the room as night descended. You grab the blanket from the back of the chair, wrapping it around you tightly. The material is soft against your skin; soothing as you try your best not to think of the nightmare.

The room is dark save for the dying embers of a fire lit the night before. It pops and crackles; providing you with a soundtrack for forgetting the horrors from your sleep. The nightmare flashes in your mind; the look on Kirigan’s face, his power-hungry gaze, and the pain of the Volcra’s claws. They circle your mind; revolving, one after the other, making it hard to focus on little else.

Exhausted, you run a hand down your face, wanting nothing more to be asleep beside the man you so desperately love. In the dark of the room, you could feel him reach out to you as he so often did in the night. His arms coming to encompass you; his nose burying in your hair. Kirigan needed the physical contact; he needed to know that you were still there, alive and happy.

“There you are,” A voice sounds, pulling you from your reverie. Kirigan smiles sleepily as he pauses at the bedroom door. “I couldn’t find you.”

A watery smile adorns your lips at the sound of relief in his voice. There was no sign of the tyrant from your nightmare. In his place was the man you had known for years, the man who loved you beyond recognition. “I’m sorry,” You reply, your voice barely more than a whisper.

“Darling,” Kirigan begins; his voice rough with sleep and concern, “Why are you awake at this time?”

You shrug, not quite meeting his gaze. “I wanted to get an early start.”

Kirigan wanders to you; his black robe swishing quietly against the floor before he gestures for you to move to one side. He settles beside you, reaching for you with no hesitation as he wraps you in his arms. You breathe easier with your back pressed to his chest; feeling warm and safe despite the horrors you had just encountered in your sleep.

Kirigan presses a kiss to the top of your head. “Let’s try again,” He murmurs, “How come you’re awake before the sun?”

“I had a nightmare,” You confess quietly, feeling rather childish in the grand scheme of things.

He tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You hide your face in your hands. “It was awful,” You lament, your voice somewhat muffled. “It was absolutely awful.”

Kirigan shifts your positions, settling you across his lap and tugging your hands from your face so he can see and hear you better. “Darling, I have to know now if it’s got you this worked up.”

You take a deep breath before unloading the horror to him. “We were in the fold; it was so cold and the Volcra were circling. I was trying to find you and when I did, you had no interest in me. You were focused on expanding the fold, wanting to make it bigger and destroy any town and village that lay in its path. I tried getting closer to you, but the ground had turned to mud and I kept slipping. I kept shouting for you, over and over, and you simply ignored me or didn’t even hear me. Finally, it ended when a Volcra grabbed me in its claws, ripping at my back. The last thing I saw before I woke up was you, overloaded with power.”

Silence descends upon the room. You daren’t look Kirigan in the eye, not wanting to see the hurt that would surely be reflected there.

Kirigan takes in your words; feeling every one of them like a lance to his heart. Once upon a time, he wouldn’t have hesitated in his plans to expand the fold, but that all changed when he fell for you. He had his opinions over Grisha and their treatment within Ravka and throughout history, but now that he something worth living for, he was not about to risk it all.

He takes your face in his hands. He presses a kiss to your forehead, one to your nose before kissing your eyelids. Kirigan presses his forehead to yours in silent apology.

“I’m sorry you had to see all that,” Kirigan murmurs after a moment. “I can’t imagine how terrifying it would have been.”

Kirigan’s thumbs trace over your cheekbones; soothing you entirely. “It was so dark, and you couldn’t hear me,” You whisper, pain evident in your voice.

“I will always hear you,” Kirigan promises. “I will always look for you. I will always come for you.”

You do not doubt him. “I’ve never been so scared.”

Kirigan releases your face in favour for wrapping you in his arms, holding you close to his chest as if he could protect from all the horrors in the world. “Are you still scared?”

You shake your head, pressing your nose to his chest and inhaling the his familiar woody scent. “No, I know I have you to protect me.”

“You will always have me to protect you whether it be from threats or nightmares. There is no life without you in it; my reason for living.”

His words wash over you as sleep starts to pull you under. Kirigan smiles fondly at the sight; he could easily carry you back to bed and fall back asleep beside you, but he doesn’t want to risk disturbing you further. Instead, he brushes your hair away from his face and kisses your forehead, hoping he has done his best to your nightmares into dreams.

**********************

Shadow and Bone Taglist: @cameronsails @cpetrova @chaotic-fae-queen @pinkcloxds @writingmysanity @netflix-imagines

**This is an old taglist, so please let me know if you no longer want to be tagged in anything! The last two tags are my most recent asks so i won’t remove you unless you’d like me to!

[howtowhumpyourhiccup]

Broken - Prologue

Summary: Written for July Break Bingo 2024. Set at the end of Httyd 1. Hiccup and Toothless flew into the Red Death's club-like tail and then fell into the fire. Of course, there were consequences to that.

Warnings: /

Rating: Mature

Prompt: Bludgeoned

Words: 203

Fandom: How to Train Your Dragon

Characters: Hiccup, Toothless

Pairing: /

Author's Notes: Been thinking of this fic for a little while now and now I have an excuse to write it.

Enjoy!

The prologue and the card are down below udner the Keep Reading.

-XOXOX-

They break free from the raging inferno and leave it far behind them. Hiccup has never been so happy to feel the arctic cold wrap around him. He’s staring at the fire, body turned and the heat still on his reddened face.

The prosthetic tailfin he created falls away. It’s been burned to a crisp and using the stirrup does nothing. It was lost, but somehow they made it. Toothless outflew an explosion! If they can just clear the area, they’ll be okay. Neither can believe they actually made it this far.

That’s when he looks in front of them and Hiccup and Toothless both realize their situation.

“No.” Cold dread grips them both. They head right for the club-like tail of the Red Death. Hiccup shrinks back in the saddle and leans to the left, hold on the handles tightening. Toothless flaps his wings and moves his body, but he can’t change course.

Without that tailfin, they can’t escape.

“No!” Hiccup shouts, Toothless flaps and flails, but nothing works. They can’t get out of the way.

Not that there is much time to.

There are only two seconds between them spotting the tail and their collision. What follows after is the fall.

[skaylanphear]

Thunder and Shadow

Summary: Five years after Ultima’s defeat, those left behind have no choice but to push onward in a world still on the precipice of ruin. Left with all that remains of Clive—her twin boys—both Jill and Joshua do all that can be to ensure the world they grow up in is one of less strife and struggle than what came before. But the destruction of the crystals and the god that created them has left the aether and eikons in a state of chaotic distress that plagues the entirety of Valisthea. And now, to have received a letter from the north about stone bearers coming back to life, Jill has a new mystery to unfold.

At the same time, Clive finds himself waking on what he thinks must be the eastern Rosarian coast, though how he arrived there, he doesn’t know. Nor has he any idea how much time has passed since that final fight with Ultima. But as he begins to investigate, he sees a battle of eikonic proportions in the distance, one that revives old, bitter memories. Ifrit, perhaps, can make up for wrongs wrought so long ago.

Meanwhile, behind the scenes, a shadow manipulates them all, his eyes set on those who would become dominants and tools both.

Chapter 3

Though he knew it'd been years—though he knew Joshua was alive—the night at Phoenix Gate would forever haunt him. Waking up in cold sweats, remembering the heat and the sound of tearing feathers and flesh, and the way his little brother had screamed out for his help…

He'd hold onto that nightmare forever.

"Mama, help…"

He wasn't Jill, but this time, he'd do something.

Reaching out, he grabbed this Diabolos by the horn and, snarling, ripped him free of the thunderbird. With a massive swing, he sent it flying across the field and away, the whole world feeling as though is shook beneath him as the demon smashed into the dirt.

Turning his focus to Quezacotl, Ifrit surveyed the damage. Blood and flickering feathers were splattered everywhere, deep gouges dug out along his chest and throat. But around the wounds, aether sparkled. Though the wounds were deep and severe, they were not lethal, not to an eikon.

Yet, that didn't lessen the agony.

 Only a child.

Whimpering, Ifrit nearly reached out, memories of holding Joshua when he'd pushed himself too hard flashing through his thoughts. Quezacotl was still, was barely breathing at all, and he wanted nothing more than to hold him, to let him know it was okay. He wasn't alone and this fight wasn't a burden he had to bear alone.

Yet, even as he felt his heart pulling closer to his nephew, his instincts yanked him back in the other direction. Behind him, Diabolos was stirring, the akashic air sparking.

Whimper turning to a furious growl, Ifrit whipped around, shoulders tensing as his vision flashed red.

Charging forward, he had Diabolos pinned to the ground before the demon had fully risen. He could tell by how it scraped at him, and howled, and flapped its webbed wings, that whoever this eikon was possessing had next to no experience being a dominant, or a host, or whatever they were. A feeble monster targeting the only thing it might stand a chance against—a helpless, desperate child.

Perhaps, were the situation different, Ifrit might have felt some semblance of mercy, or even pity, but as of then, there was none for this… akashic thing, whatever it was. All he had to spare was angry, fiery rage, and so he let it all go.

Roaring, he ripped Diabolos apart. Tore it limb from limb, shredding it even as it attempted to regenerate lost body parts, leaving it helpless to keep up. Against Ifrit—Mythos—a dominant with so much strength and experience, there was no hope. Tearing arm from shoulder, wing from back, Ifrit sheered through it all until he was able to get his jaws clamped down over the creature's jugular. Sinking his teeth into that poisoned flesh, he ignored the sulfur taste of one steeped in aether as he reached up and, with one clawed hand clamped around each horn, anchored both himself and Diabolos in place even as he pulled.

Diabolos screamed and struggled, but there was no escape. In one snapping moment, he split Diabolos apart, tearing its head from its shoulders and rendering it silent. Flesh and blood sprayed and snapped against him for a second, until the inevitability of death sparked. Glowing the sickening purple of aether, what remained of Diabolos' body began to dissolve, even as the stain of blood was left behind.

Dropping the mangled human head that would remain once the outer shell of Diabolos disintegrated, Ifrit leaned back, glowing red with heat and huffing as he watched to make sure the deed was fully done. Slithering into nothing, soon all that remained was the toxic, infected, headless corpse of a wasted, akashic man, glowing ever so faintly with deep red as the eikon's power diminished.

Reaching out, Ifrit allowed his hand close enough that he could feel the wavering darkness. Familiar.

Read More

And here’s a link to all my socials ;D I recently released a book for anyone who’s interested.

[magicalmysteryperson]

24 Days of Aliensmas: Day 13- Cold

AYY IT'S MOTH MAN TIME I added some bits and pieces from Eric Cante's concepts for Big Chill (Most specifically the limbs) as well as adding some darker colors to help accent his darkness camouflage. Not to mention giving him a more bug like appearance and some fluff (because the best moths are ones that have fluff! :3) Now, the powers. This big ol' moth can expel liquid nitrogen to freeze things, as well as absorb heat and releasing it as a powerful gust of cold air. He can also absorb heat while he is cloaked, creating icicles that he can fire when he flaps his wings. I threw out his intangibility (there can be only one.) and gave him light sensitivity instead. Like all moths, Big Chill can get disorientated from bright lights, so he works best at nighttime or dark areas.

[starryknight-dragonarts]

Grimmsvant (Experiment Number: 001)  Gender: Male Background: Grimmsvant was the very first (and first surviving) living dragon experiment of the Alchemy Cult long before they decided it was easier to control and experiment primarily on children (Grimmsvant is a short burly old dragon). Little is known about Grimmsvant before he became an experiment of the Legion but the younger test subjects had horror stories about him: Some claim that he was once an old gladiator who had slain thousands in the arena and then slayed the entire arena out of spite. Others say he was a death row criminal who betrayed and destroyed his kingdom. Because he was so early in the testing phase their methods back then were very different and a lot less refined than their current experiments. Grimmsvant is a lot closer to the original Zelophbog, the actual artificial God of Destruction than any other experiment, Taken apart gruesomely put back together. This has given him a few interesting and unique features; Unlike other Tannin Dragons he does not need Nature Magic from his environment in order to fuel his elemental power, his power is innate to his body and he gets stronger through his Rage, so there is nothing that cut him off from using his powers. After the Legion was done using Grimmsvant they struck a deal with the Imperial Military to use him as a Weapon and he became one of the Claws of the Empire, an elite knights who are only sent out when they don't want to expend a whole army and need a more precise job to destroy an enemy of the empire. Personality: Grimmsvant's wrath burns cold. He often has a bad attitude and a grim expression but he hardly ever needs to raise his voice or lash out in anger in order to be intimidating. His seriousness, level head, and rational thinking make him more effective and less predictable, and the control he has over his rage makes him more dangerous. Strengths: Controlled Anger, Unique Power, Rational Thinking Weaknesses: Lack of Mobility, Advanced Age, Lack of Charisma Powers: Ice, Fire-(Endothermic Flames) The Process of giving him a new element was not completed back when they first tested on Grimmsvant. Instead of him having 2 individual elements His Ice and Fire combined natures to create Endothermic Fire: It is Hotter than normal fire but it feels cold. Instead of radiating heat outwards it absorbs heat into itself sucking the thermal energy out of everything it comes in contact with and leaving everything it comes in contact with reducing them to cold blackened ash. Stats Elemental Energy: 10/10 The only limit to his power is his wrath. As long as he is angry he can keep going. Grimmsvant almost constantly has a bad attitude. Elemental Control: 10/10 Grimmsvant has mastered control over his element. He is able to fire concentrated beams of Endothermic Energy. Intelligence: 8/10 Grimmsvant is wise and very tactical given his old age and lack of mobility he's had to plan and be smarter than his enemies in order to catch them. Combat Ability: 10/10 Grimmszant is like an unstoppable force of nature, he was trained as an elite soldier in the Imperial Army, he has mastery over his Elemental powers, he doesn't run out of energy, his only downside is that he's slow, but once you are his target he doesn't come charging at you, he'll simply march toward you at his own pace and there is nothing you can do to stop him from getting to you. All of his claws are coated in metal, he has two heavy shields permanently fixed to his wings which are equipped with a razor edge and a rough file-like surface, and when he flaps them they make the a horrifying screeching noise that can briefly shock and incapacitate dragons who were not expecting it.

[duskamethyst]

make it right.

a/n: i was on a writing high. i initially hated this so much but ended up with 12 pages long.

word count: 5.1k

genre: mature, smut, nsfw, angst to fluff

warnings: mentions of abortion, pregnancy

pairing: hawks x f!reader

𝅘𝅥𝅮  music rec: the reason by hoobastank  𝅘𝅥𝅮

summary: you told keigo that you’re carrying his child but he didn’t take it well. five years later he shows up in front of your door after being invited by his son and says he wants to fix everything.

you lean down towards the counter as you concentrate on creating pretty swirls of cream on the cake you baked with a piping bag. the dining table is full of food, a feast almost too huge for only two people, but you have a good excuse. it is a special day. your son’s fifth birthday to be exact. 

kids these days can be ruthless and your son doesn’t get along very well with the other kids from his kindergarten. they like picking on others that seem too fragile, too quiet – criteria that fits him well and it doesn’t help with the fact that they know he’s growing up without a father. your child never opened up to you about the constant mocking he faced until one day you overheard him sobbing through his pillow in his own room. it was dark, though the door was still open by an inch to allow a small amount of light to penetrate into the room whenever he slept. he said he wanted to sleep earlier because he was tired but the muffling sounds he tried to conceal betrayed his efforts when you passed by later that night.

it made you angry and disappointed in yourself. you really tried your best to juggle between being a mom and a dad at the same time, keeping an eye on your child and working your ass off to make a living for the two of you. you’d always put up a tough front, never broke down in front of him when you were dead tired from being overworked and the thought of him trying to not make you worry, shattered your heart into pieces. you know that all he deserves is a good life and you constantly blame yourself for not being good enough, mostly angry at your past self for not even knowing how to make good decisions and think things through. 

if only you could turn back time, you would tell yourself to never get involved with a pro hero – to never get involved with someone who feels so responsible for other strangers’ lives but not their own child’s. 

were you being selfish? for not understanding that his work always comes first? he can’t possibly have a family when he has villains out there that need to be put in their right place for their crimes. were you expecting too much from him?

“can’t you… get rid of it?” he muttered. his cold words felt like a sharp blade that just stabbed you in the heart. never once you thought that he would say that. how easy was it for him to ask you to throw out another life like it meant nothing? 

“keigo, you can’t be serious.” you shook your head, your legs were already wobbling and you felt sick to your stomach. this news should be happy for the both of you but unfortunately, you two weren’t on the same page. 

was it your fault? keigo never spoke about having a child together but he always said he’d love to build a family with you someday – he loved you, he would always protect you and be there for you. sure, it was a slip up this time. you always made sure to take proper measures to avoid pregnancy from happening but you were also more than glad to bear this child and you were convinced that keigo would be happy about it as much as you were. he loved you so much, after all. 

“i don’t think…” he stammered, trying to find the right words. “give me some time.”

your lips pursed into a thin line, hands clenching hard and knuckles turning white. think? the uncertainty in his voice was already giving you the obvious answer. he couldn’t even look you in the eyes. he never wanted this.

“save the trouble, keigo.” you spat. “how about i’ll just leave so you don’t even have to think at all?”

keigo finally lifted up his head to look at you with wavering eyes, but he still couldn’t find the words to say, to comfort you. “what are you saying?”

“i’m still going to have this child. even if it means i have to do it alone.” with a sharp breath, you turned around towards the door.

you heard a frustrating sigh coming from your back, “you know i can’t. you know damn well that i have my job as a hero and i can’t look after… after a child!”

“but it’s your child keigo!” you turned around to scream and look at him again, tears already welling in your eyes, threatening to pour out.

“and what difference does that make?!” he yelled back. “in fact, that’s even worse!”

the room was quiet as the both of you just stood there. keigo slowly realizing what just came out of his mouth in the heat of the moment while you just stared at him in disbelief. both were standing stunned and speechless from what he clearly said. that was it, you thought. 

“fuck you.” you cursed under your breath and immediately left his place, not even sparing a look back. 

if he was sorry, he would chase after you. if he didn’t mean it, he would look everywhere for you.

but none of that happened.

you ended up going back to your hometown after that. it was shameful, to finally see your parents again but just to cry on their feet as soon as you saw their faces and telling them that you were carrying an illegitimate child. it was devastating for them initially but thankfully they easily accepted it, welcoming you to stay over at their place with open arms so they could help you throughout your pregnancy until the baby was born and grown. above all, you were still their daughter. living far away, your parents had never met keigo and they were shocked to know that you were having the no.2 pro hero’s baby but also disappointed at how he reacted when you told him the news.

however, what was done is done and you can only manage to move forward by raising the child with your utmost capability. you promised yourself that you’ll protect and raise this child with as much love and care a mother can offer. whatever it takes, even if you’ll have to do it by yourself. 

you ended up living with your parents until your son turned four and decided to live independently, not wanting to burden them any longer. they didn’t want to let you go, the presence of the child brought so much joy in their daily lives. he was a bundle of sunshine and they loved him so much. 

and kyō is just beautiful. 

keigo’s genes manage to overpower your son compared to yours. fluffy but shorter blonde hair, dark and sharp on the inner corner of the eyes and not to forget the red wings on his back. it isn’t as big as keigo’s yet but it still stands out. although he takes on your personality more, every part of him reminds you of keigo and sometimes it feels like a jab to your chest. it hurts to be reminded of the man that hurt you and told you to get rid of the child you were bearing so ruthlessly.

throughout the years, you tried to make peace with the past. at first, it was hard to look at the news and see his face. he was almost everywhere, a lot of stores also sold his merchandise and his face even covered the magazines-- you realized you couldn’t escape him, your past. although he’s in the limelight, the media was still unaware about his private life and you were glad alas the similar features of kyō to the pro hero made some passersby and mothers at the park question you. fortunately, you already came up with a bullshit excuse like “he is such a big fan of hawks and he cosplays him every day… and oh, the wings are fake too.”

of course, strangers weren’t the only ones who inquired about it. even the little child himself could smartly notice his resemblance with the pro hero.

as soon as he first saw hawks on tv, he went on and on about how they looked so much alike. he was beyond fascinated, he could barely understand what the news was talking about at the time but being on the screen was more than enough to make him understand that hawks was an amazing guy. his eyes would twinkle in wonder when the news caught footage of him flying in the air with his red wings spreading graciously. if anything at all, kyō just couldn’t wait to flap his own smaller wings soon. 

then one thing led to another. a question that any curious child would ask their parents about. 

oftentimes kyō would ask you about his dad. why didn’t he have one like the other children he played with at the park and oftentimes you would try to avoid the topic and shrugged it off with a lame joke saying how you were also his dad and how you were powerful to have two bodies in one unlike other people. 

he ended up growing tired of it one day, crying to you and asked if the reason why he didn’t have one was because he didn’t love him – something he heard one of the kids said. it broke you and you were lost for words. you called your parents for support and after much discussion, your mother thought he deserved to at least know the truth and you did just that. 

luckily, he took it surprisingly well. even his little brain can comprehend the job of a top hero, he understood that it was a lot of work and keigo was often busy and far away. it was less to his liking when you made him promise you to not tell anyone about it and he should keep it as a secret because bad guys would chase after him if another single soul would know and his dad did it to protect him. it was a bad lie, but still, you had to do it.

later, kyō realized that his birthday was coming soon. he knew what he had always wanted. he didn’t know if he could have it but maybe… maybe if he tried and wished hard enough, it would come true. 

he sneakily took your phone to look up “hawks'' on your phone, though at first he was only shown results and pictures of the literal bird before smartly adding “pro hero” at the back. with limited comprehension, he eventually managed to find the agency’s website before scrolling further to find the address to the agency and scribbled it down on a piece of paper. 

-

“daddy?!” the bell has been ringing for a few times but you were too concentrated on decorating the birthday cake to even hear it but your son’s small wings flutter in excitement as he runs across the hallway to open the door.

your heart stops for a second. was that the reason why your son was pacing around the living room? you’re not expecting any guests for tonight’s dinner at all, especially the father of your child. 

“hey! i got your letter!” the familiar excited tone of his voice bursts from the door as he speaks. he kneels down eye-level as his son and gives him a big hug. “happy birthday.”

“what letter?” you break into the conversation, arms folded in front of your chest as you lean against the wall with an unamused expression written across your face. 

“i wrote daddy a letter!” your son says proudly, but you can already imagine the horrible squiggly lines on the handwritten letter. 

“and you gave me a picture too. you look exactly like me, am so happy!” keigo chuckles, ruffling the hair of his boy, eliciting little giggles from the other. it’s a beautiful sight and it makes your heart ache a little at the image of what it could’ve been. if only he was fully ready to accept the fact that he was gonna bear a child. if only he knew how to balance between his career and personal life. you could’ve had the most beautiful family you’ve ever dreamed of. 

“honey, can you go to your room for a bit? your daddy and i have to talk.” you say softly, hoping that he won’t take it any other way.

“am i.. in trouble?” kyō turns to you with a frown and puppy eyes – which he knows well that it would always work on you and it’s almost adorable how it’s exactly what keigo would do whenever he makes you annoyed with his antics. it’s just one of his ways to apologize to you. 

you sigh and shake your head, “no. we’re gonna talk about…” you glance elsewhere as you think of an excuse. “your surprise present!” 

“it’s not a surprise anymore if you say it like that, mommy!” the child laughs and scurries to his room as told and the both of you watch him with a smile tugged on your lips. 

you turn back to keigo with a dour expression as soon as your son closes the door to his room, causing him to fidget a bit from his spot. he hasn’t seen it for years, after all. he’s about to pull you into a hug but instead, you quickly turn your heels around towards the kitchen.

“i still have things to do. either you help me with it or leave.”

he quickly takes off his shoes and follows you, taking in the view around the house before he enters the kitchen. the atmosphere is stuffy and tense while you sit on the stool to continue decorating the cake. 

“you can help by setting up the plates. top cabinet.” you break the awkward silence and keigo obliges, he reaches the cabinet to take out the available plates and put them nicely around the table. 

“you made it yourself?” he tries to make a conversation as he glances at you working on the cake. 

“yeah.” you simply reply without taking your eyes off from your work. 

“it’s nice. chocolate?”

“obviously.”

keigo sighs from the underwhelming response, “i know you don’t want me here but –”

“no shit.” you almost slam the table but quickly recompose yourself by taking a deep breath. for the sake of your son, you know you shouldn’t get into an argument right now, at least not today. 

“look, i’ll leave as soon as this is over if that’s what you want.”

you glare at him, “it’s more than what i want right now,” then it’s your turn to sigh. “but i doubt that’s what kyō would want.” 

keigo already knows his name from the letter but his lips etch into a warm smile at the sound of the name you’ve given to the-- his child and a small part of him wishes that he was there in the process of choosing a name for the boy together with you. 

“okay, just for tonight. we’ll pretend like we’re a happy family.” you stand up from the stool after putting the last candle and set the cake in the middle of the table. 

“...and what if we don’t have to?” he blurts out after a brief and quiet moment, immediately catching your attention. he notices the puzzled look on your face and continues, “what if we really start being a happy family from now and onwards?”

you blink once, twice. for a second, you feel a heavy pang in your chest as your brain processes the words that just came out from his mouth. it’s like déjà vu, only this time keigo has certainty in his voice.

the room falls dead silent again as you stare at each other. you’re finding words and about to open your mouth to say something but kyō suddenly interrupts from the corner of the kitchen and both of your attentions quickly turn to him.

“mommy..? i’m hungry.” 

“oh, sweetheart. you’re just in time!” you walk up to kyō to carry him in your arms before bringing him to the dining table. his eyes sparkle at the variety of food spread across the table and his wings flutter in excitement. 

“can you help light up the candles? the lighter is in the drawer.” you usher to keigo as you show your son his favorite food you made earlier while keigo quickly rummages through the drawer. he lights up each candle as you put down kyō on one of the chairs before he stands on his knees to reach close enough to blow the candles. the both of you excitedly sing happy birthday and clap your hands as he blows off the candles after a brief moment for a wish. 

“what did you wish for?” keigo asks, affectionately patting kyō on the head.

“i wish to be a hero like daddy!” he exclaims, arms and wings spread in enthusiasm. a bittersweet feeling engulfs him-- a part of him is disappointed and ashamed of himself while another part of him is elated and relieved that he’s still looked up upon by his own child. in the corner of his heart, keigo thinks he doesn’t deserve it. kyō is a splitting image of himself (minus the color of his eyes that he takes after you) and it easily brings back visions of him from the past. he wanted to be a hero too, but his father wasn’t someone he could look up to. hence, making endeavor the only man he idolized. 

he realizes he is lucky enough to be the person his son looks up to. he knows that this was what his own younger self would want. a father he can be proud of, a hero at that. keigo wants to make it right with whatever it’ll take.

the night proceeds smoothly, all three of you have fun together like any normal family would and bonding over lost times. keigo is thoughtful (though his choice seems a little bit conceited) enough to give kyō a present; an action figure of himself. unknowingly, the walls that you built around you by the time keigo arrived earlier slowly crumbles and you grow less wary around him as time ticks by. when it’s bedtime for the boy, keigo insists on putting him to bed so he can spend more time with him which you gladly consented to so you can also continue cleaning up the kitchen.

a set of footsteps coming down the stairs can be heard as you’re seated on one of the stools while sipping tea. 

“want some tea?” you offer without turning around to look at the male.

“sure.” he says as he walks up to you. 

you can feel his tall and lean build ghosting you from the back as you pour a cup for him but his hands suddenly reach your shoulders and give them light squeezes. 

“what are you doing?” you ask quizzically, glancing at the hand on your shoulder.

“giving you a massage.” he smiles innocently as he continues pressing on the knot in your stiff shoulders, making you sigh in reflex.

“trying to get on my good side?” you say in a mocking tone.

“hmm, just showing my appreciation to you.” his hands move lower to your spine, your back arches a little as he presses down your aching muscles. 

“you’re five years too late, keigo.” you sneer but welcome his service as you close your eyes and hum in content. it’s not that bad, you assure yourself in your head. 

keigo diligently continues to massage your back as the kitchen now fills with your quiet sighs and whimpers whenever he rubs on the sore spot. without you realizing, he slyly pulls the collar of your baggy shirt down and plants soft kisses on your bare shoulder.

“k-keigo?” you immediately open your eyes and flinch at the sudden touch.

he remains quiet while his hands work up and down your arms gently and his lips move further up to your earlobe, sending tingling sensations down to your core and you can already feel your nipples harden underneath your shirt. 

“relax.” his hot breath fans over your ear as he whispers. your cheeks are already burning red and you’re out of sarcastic remarks as you can only find yourself to indulge into his touches. 

you gasp in surprise when keigo’s hands sneakily move under your shirt and quickly unsnaps your bra. he massages your breasts and kneads them gently before teasing your erect nipple between his fingers. your hands firmly clenches the edge of the island to hold yourself as he nips on the crook of your neck, just gently to carefully not leave a mark. 

“you want more, babybird?” he coos as he realizes that your thighs are pressing against each other. as much as you hate to admit it, the nostalgic pet name tugs on your heartstrings and you find yourself melting after hearing it after years again. 

feeling embarrassed, you quietly nod your head. 

“i can’t hear you.” a teasing tone lingers in his voice. he knows what he’s doing and you hate him for it.

“more, keigo...” you whine. it sounds so innocent and adorable but it absolutely makes his cock twitch. noticing that you’ve been avoiding looking at him the whole time, he uses one of his hands to make you look at him and grins when he catches the red tint spread across your face before he presses his lips onto yours. 

the traces of your ego make you hesitate at first but you’re quick to lose it as he deepens it, as if to send you a silent message of how much he misses you while his tongue intertwines with yours. 

one of his hands remains to massage your mound while the other travels down south to easily part your legs and cups your heated sex. keigo rubs the clit against the fabric of your pants, eliciting breathy moans from your lips between kisses. you pull away and lean back to his body as he slides his hand under your pants, feeling the wet patch that is already staining your underwear. 

“already wet from all of that?” he says playfully, taking out his hand to look at the damp juices as he rubs it between his fingers. 

“says the man that was grinding his cock on my back.” you roll your eyes halfheartedly, missing the faint blush that becomes apparent on his cheeks.

keigo then reaches for the cups in front of you and pushes them aside before lifting you up on the kitchen island, making you turn towards him. he swiftly pulls down your pants along with your underwear, your cunt bare and glistening under the lights for him to see.

his golden irises lock with yours as he kicks the stool to the side and crouches down to spread your thighs apart. he starts to lap off your juices, tongue alternating between your throbbing clit and hole. your elbows help to prop you up as your head hangs back and your eyes close in pure bliss. 

keigo smacks and clenches your thighs to draw your attention to him, “baby, look at me.”

you submissively lift your head to look at him, eyes locking with each other again as he watches you squirm on the tongue flicking your clit and eats you out like a starved man having his first meal after a long day. 

you grab a lock of his blonde hair in one hand, pushing him closer as your legs tremble around his head, feeling the bubbling sensation of your orgasm building up. 

“mmh – gonna cum!” you cry out in ecstasy, instantly forgetting the people next door and your son that’s sound asleep on the upper floor as you chase after your high.

keigo smoothly slides two fingers inside your pussy and your hips begin to grind desperately onto them. he knows you’re close when he feels the walls clenching around him and with another suck on the clit, he quickly gets to tip you over the edge. 

“so good for me.” he coos as he pulls away, licking his fingers clean before carrying your panting body in his arms and walks over to sprawl your body on the couch. he hovers on top of you and kisses you again while his hands work on unzipping and taking off his lower garments to free his throbbing cock. 

he smears the precum by pumping his cock as he watches you down, adoring the look of absolute bliss on your face and half lidded eyes that he longed for over the years. 

“my songbird,” he purrs as he leans down to you and lines his cock with your wet cunt, “you’re so beautiful.”

if you’re already red, the endearing pet name makes you even redder. your gaze avoids his to hide your embarrassment but he only draws it back gently by your chin with his thumb and finger. 

“don’t you miss me?” his brows furrowed as he searches your face. you can only stare back into his eyes – bright irises filled with nothing but genuine curiosity and desolation. 

your lips pull into a thin line as you ponder for a moment, promptly unable to vocalize like earlier. it’s as if you let even one word escape your mouth, it would make you burst into tears instead. of course you missed him. your mind often wondered if he even thought of you at least once. even when you did make peace with the past, you still couldn’t bring yourself to be the one to make the first step. ego is an ugly thing and you were certain that keigo should be the one to look for you even if it was hard for him since you just disappeared out of his life.

noticing the reluctance to give him an answer, he shushes you. “it’s okay.” he kisses you sweetly on your nose. “but let me show how much i’ve missed you.”

he trails open mouthed kisses down your jaw, neck and collarbone as your hands run through his hair and down to his back. a soft whine manages to escape from your mouth when he nibbles on the soft flesh of your neck, instantly marking it red this time. 

his mouth then latches onto your nipple through your shirt, making you squirm beneath him. your hands clenches to the fabric of his shirt when you feel his fingers teasingly dancing between your wet folds and his thumb ghosting over your clit. 

keigo gives you a kiss on the lips again before pulling away, the cushion dips as he props himself on the knees, rubbing his hard cock against your wet slits and smearing it with your juices.

a low hiss slips from his lips as he slowly prods in the tip of his cock and your expression twists into discomfort as you feel him stretch you out more – a familiar mixture of pain and pleasure that you haven’t felt for a while.

keigo waits for you to adjust and as soon as you give him the greenlight, he continues to completely balls deep inside you. 

“babybird, you feel so good.” he grunts as he bucks his hips and slowly starts to move. 

you bite your lower lip hard, enough to draw blood as you try to stifle your moans. keigo leans down to kiss you while your arms find themselves wrapping around his neck. he thrusts harder and faster and your whimpers and whines finally find themselves shamelessly slipping past from your mouth.

“fucking– hah– perfect.” he pants as he pulls away to look at your flustered face, eyes half closed and mouth agape with pleasure. 

you quickly bury your face on the crook of his neck and hold onto him tighter while your legs wrap securely around his waist. keigo moves his thumb on your clit, pressing down and rubbing circles all to entice nothing but tightening the coil down in your core more. 

“keigo, keigo –” you cry as your nails dig the fabric on his back and your toes curl to the intense sensation.

“baby wants to cum?” he growls as he feels your walls clamping around his cock, making him buck his hips even wilder. 

“yesyesyes – oh god, keigo!” your mind turns putty and unable to form any more coherent words, making only his name being the only thing you remember as your eyes close shut while you’re nearing your high. 

“that’s it – baby. cum on my cock.” he encourages and you do just that. your pussy flutters as you finally reach your orgasm but his sporadic thrusts doesn’t stop until it starts to falter and his wings tremble.

“fuck. i’m gonna fill you up.” he grits through his teeth and his cock twitches before his wings spread wider as he releases his warm cum inside you. 

the both of your bodies stay against each other, chests heaving for air before he briefly pulls out his cock and lays on top of your chest. 

“yes.” your voice suddenly croaks, breaking the almost silent air in the room if not for the sound of yours and his breathing.

keigo lifts up his head to look at you confusingly before a lopsided smile curls on his lips when he hears you utter the next few words.

“yes. i missed you and i don’t want to pretend anymore.” you suddenly feel overwhelmed and tears start to well in your eyes. a flash of panic crosses his face and he pulls you closer into his embrace, hoping to calm you down as you sniffle on his chest. 

“shh, baby. i’m sorry. i know it’s too late and i was so fucking stupid but i’ll – ”

“i want to live as a happy family with you, keigo.” you cut him off, sobbing through his shirt. he pulls away at once to look at you, unable to believe what he just heard through the choking sob but it still makes even him want to cry. 

“babybird, i – ” he’s completely tongue-tied. at this point he can only manage to lean down to be close to you again. he peppers kisses all over your face, saying how thankful and happy he is.

“i love you, my little bird. i won’t fuck up this time, i promise.” he whispers, finally regaining his composure.

that night, keigo could barely sleep a wink. so many thoughts are running through his head. he glances at you sleeping peacefully next to him on the bed and he already pictures how it is to be waking up to see your face every morning. he also hopes that kyō doesn’t know how to fly yet so he could teach him how to use his wings. oh, he’ll also get to find an excuse to buy more buckets of chickens once you three will start living together. 

he can already imagine how the headlines will be bombarded about him having a family and he sighs at the thought, but he hopes that his publicist is ready for a hell lot of work.

duskamethyst © 2020 • do not modify, translate or repost anywhere.

[jean-does-not-have-a-horseface]

Wildflower

Yooooo impromptu nsfw fic!? On this fine evening!? As if you don't know me! Y'all want soft wet Eren and I deliver.

Pairing: Eren/ Reader

Summary: You and eren find yourselves tangled with each other after a swim in the lake, things take a much warmer turn from there.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+

The lake was beautiful at this time of the day.

A soft evening breeze blew the fresh smell of blooming wildflowers around. Mellow tints of camomile and lavender lingered in your nostrils, blended with water lillies and hibiscus struck you tenderly, brushing your senses beautifully. The forest green leaves around you shimmered an entirely different colors under the thousand golden rays of the blushing sun. Numerous duos of butterflies fflickered and flapped their wings on each other, twisting and turning in the air as they seemingly kissed, landing on perky petals and hoovering with each other under the tangerine light.

Yet here you were; drainched and shivering, laid on a thin sheet of clothe, cold as ever, but burning up from your core and outwards.

"Eren"

The whisper of his name was silent, lost in the heart of the forest, overlapped by the sounds of nature as the sun was shyly hiding underneath the horizon. Still it reached his ears and his ears only, just like he thristed for.

He too was shivering and very pale and as sweat begged to drip from the pores of his skin, it merged with the flowing water that the two of you had been bathing in only moments ago.

His lips were sucking yours in with need, worrying your flesh with arrogance before his time guess dared to dip in the crevices of your mouth. His palms were always supporting, always cupping your face to sink his head closer into you. His tongue rubbed yours with twirling motions, dipping and swiping in any place he could manage to drag it on.

"You have such a lovely voice."

"I do?"

"You do" Eren said. "You're making my -ah- my heart melt."

Turquoise orbs locked with yours, his sharp nose brushed over the tip of yours, his hand coming to cup tenderly just the underside of your jaw line. The cold, wet fabric of his shirt brushed over your naked skin, hanging so low that when you'd stick your forehead to his collar bone you could see the view of his hips as they remained frozen and in collision with yours.

"Eren, please, please move."

"Shh." His lips brushed over yours with animalistic need, but he never placed a kiss on you. "I just want to stay like this for a while, to look at you, you're so beautiful under this light."

With a sharp breath creating commotion on your side you felt like your lungs were spent. His plum lower lip sank under his teeth as he looked at you, his eyebrows furrowing together and away from his eyelids in what seemed like utter, horrible pain.

Maybe it was painful. No, it definitely was painful. The fact that he wouldn't move inside you, the way your hardened buds brushed with his shirt. The sly adoration that glimmered in his gentle turquoise eyes. We're you ever in a position to chose a single memory to keep of his it would be this very moment.

That was if he would let you think clear.

With one thumb flicking over your most sensitive bundle of nerves occasionally and the squirm inside the depths of your chest, you instinctively brought your hands to cup his own face eager to clash his lips against yours. Your hips finally made a movement of their own accord; you bucked forward and into the small surface of the tip of his finger, searching desperately for some rythimc friction.

You found yourself pushing against him hard and fast, so much that the evening breeze was finally starting to become evident, forming little bumps on the surface of your wet skin. Another short lived shiver ravaged your body and you gasped, you forehead linked with his collar bone. Before your eyes, you could see his hand hiding just between your legs, rubbing just on the spot you wanted, and it only added to your lust.

With a hitched breath, you let out a soft mewl and earned one from the brunet in response.

"Fuck!" Eren snarled and his hand came to dig absurdly on the ground next to you.

With the twirling of his hips inside you, he bucked slightly before he hoisted him self out of you and aligned the tip of his length with your entrance, sliding it teasingly over you.

"I love you." He said and clashed his forehead with the prominent tip of your jaw.

Your heart throbbed the instant he uttered the words yet he de ied you the chance to look him in the eye. Whether from embarrassment or shame, whether because the little scarlet tint on his cheeks was something he was insecure about, he took away from you the right of being able to lock your gaze with his. And somewhere between not being able to look into his eyes and being teased by his slow rhythm against you, you felt lost and swallowed by the words you wanted to speak back to him.

Perhaps he knew your answer. That he could probably be why he didn't demand it.

Still, your heart slightly ached at the slight melancholy of his tone.

You were being swallowed as a whole by the slow dragging of his member across you, by the way that you could see he held him self just below his fleshy tip to take a lead and establish his self control. He didn't want to thrust inside you and establish a pace, he was making that obvious. The pained expression in his face was more likely due to that, the paleness of his skin gave him away.

"Don't you love me?"

It came out like a cry, a whine, like a little brawl of a hurt puppy and it hit hit you like a monstrus tide. Had Eren always been able of making such lewd sounds?

"Of course i- of course I do." You stuttered, the throbbing heat that thrilled your abdomen fueling by your confession.

You could only sense how much he was enjoying it; the hiccuped breaths he let out, the tight clentching of his abdomen muscles, the veins in his hands that flexed as he pressed into the abnormal soil with the fact of his palm, the stray strands of wet hair that shimered im tiny droplets at their base as they flickered on your skin, it all added to that.

"I feel so dirty." He whispered and you knew to what he was reffering.

"But you're not."

"That's exactly how I feel though."

"Not for me, you're not what everyone paint you to be."

"Then promise me you'll hold my hand." He growled. "That you won't leave my side with what's to come."

Right after hot slowly dragged his teeth the the length of your jaw, his breath was on your ear, hot against your skin despite the cold evening air. The hiffs of his nose shot like steam over the crook of your neck and unbeknownst to you they preppee the area for what was to come.

"I promise."

Eren's lips attacked you, the launched over the tender skin of your neck, the hot torture of his tongue and teeth beginning a sweet massacre against all the little sweet spots he knew you had. You only pressed your head against the sheet of cloth harder, accepting the little defeat of your own personal ego. You were glad you didn't have to worry about being audible into the heart of the woods.

Your body was jolting against his touch, your pelvis, sore and needy in its movements slowly gave in the the build up in the aftermath or Eren's teasing. A hand came to grip on Eren's flexed bicep, your fingertips digging painfully into his skin everytime the feeling became unbearable for you to handle. You were going numb, painfully numb but you seemed to savor your release for later, you repeatedly told yourself that you could do it.

The little drizzling of cicadas had started spreading throughout the air by now, from the corner of your strained eye you could see some of them flying around, some birds chirping and flying inside their little nests as the last specs of sunlight peaked right between the enormous trees. Nature was celebrating another endearing late spring sunset and here you were, feeling the dear melancholy of a delayed edge.

It was only when Eren shifted his weight onto you that you immediately run your hands through his hair, throwing a chocolate lock away from his tired eyes just to finally get the chance to look at him. This time it was you who took so long tracing his jawline, it was you you placed chaste kissed across his face, chin, the corners of his so well outlined lips.

"Eren, I love you no matter what," You whispree, eyes closed as your heart hammered in your chest. "you don't have to hold back with me."

Whether he did it because you genuinely convinced him of your words or because he wanted to get this over with, you didn't know. All that you knew what that your legs were forced over his shoulders, and that his hand was cupping your cheek with force, desperately clutching on you as he finally slammed his throbbing member inside of you.

Puckered lips and glistering skin, angry brows and a menacing look, it all added to the occasional gulp he'd force upon himself, it all took away from the moans he failed to let out. The little grunts he left were due time the brutality of his rhythm and they were so unique but still overlapped by the sound of skin clapping and clashing.

You only gave a little moan and surrendered to the feeling, your coiling stomach refusing to allow you to hold your orgasm in for any longer. Your legs went still, your toes curled and flexed and your walls clenched around him. You let out a panting mewl as you felt your whole body giving into the immediate trance of afterglow.

Eren only grunted at the feeling, thrusting himself faster into you before barely managing to pull out, a hand coming to his length to guide the spurting white rope that emitted from the tip anywhere away from you.

"I'm so sorry" He panted, and finally his head nuzzled to the crook of your neck almost painfully.

"I got you Eren. You don't have to have a single worry in the world at the moment."

And he truly wished he didn't

[kingdom-creatin]

Phil has been suffering a lot since joining this server. The man deserves to have a little breakdown with the comfort and support of his Technoblade.

[This was originally written just after Techno helped Phil escape New L’manberg and Phil joined to live in the cabin, just for your like, canon considerations given the new Fundy and Phil lore that’s come about this past week.]

-------

Phil joins the server and makes his way to where he knows his son will be. His son, his Will pleads for his understanding, pours his shattered self onto the floor at his father’s feet and then presses a button. He hears the hiss of TNT and has more than enough experience with staying alive to react fast enough to grab for his son and with one flap of his wings, push them both backwards while they then wrap around his child in a desperate instinctive attempt to keep him safe. That attempt feels useless as he shakes the ringing from his mind and looks up to see the man staring out into the wreckage he’s created. There are people out there, friends of Will’s. There is shouting and fireworks but all he sees is the devastated look in his boy’s eyes when he turns back around.

He begs, he begs him, his father, “Kill me Phil, do it!” But he’s, he’s “-my son!”

But he looks out past this broken man, and he sees anger and hurt in whatever crowd is outside, and his son begs, please, and he knows it should be fine if he does, and as he looks to his son’s eyes he knows that if he doesn’t do this, someone else will. Will might do it himself. And he can’t he can’t he can’t. His child is asking and in his fear and worry and pain and hurt and expectation that it will be alright soon, he does it.

...

He remains stiff and still on the dusty ground, holding his universe in his arms and he is so cold, and his universe is so cold, and he knows, suddenly, awfully, that he. He, he did this. He took his universe from this world. He killed his son. He-

He moves listless through the rest of the day? Week? At some point familiar hooved hands push hot tea into his own and he holds it, allowing the heat to burn at him, because maybe it will help him to not feel so cold, to not feel the coldness of his son in his hands instead.

Time passes, it feels like it passes without him. And soon he finds himself with Techno, a new hot tea held in his hands while they sit before the fireplace. And Techno sits comfortably, having wrapped his arm and one side of his grand cape around Phil’s back, being careful to not brush against the still healing remainder of his left wing. And in this moment, Phil feels suddenly as though time has caught back up. He wants to talk about this. He knows they’ve never been much for the whole talking about things deal, but Techno doesn’t tense as Phil looks over, and in fact seems to loosen further, making himself more open, as he rests his snout against the crown of Phil’s head. And so Phil speaks.

“Imagine the first time you see your son in months and he's become someone you don't recognize anymore, he's willing to threaten the lives of everyone on the server to destroy a nation he had just won back. You try to, to stop him. To talk some sense, but the man you are looking at isn’t seeing you, he’s seeing his future laid out in perfect clarity, and he presses the button. He blows up his country and you wonder if you could have stopped him, if you should have stepped closer, but when you moved forwards, he moved closer to the button. And what if you got there earlier, could you have tried harder? Could you have stopped that future he saw?

Imagine that he asks you to kill him, to kill him your son, because he wants to die and so does everyone else around. He wants you to kill him and not the others, he wants to die by his father’s hand, death as an act of love rather than as a reaction of anger. He wants you to kill him because he feels that he's nothing anymore and he will never be able to be happy if even this, this future he’s been caught in for so long, if even this couldn't bring him happiness. ...And you wonder if you should have stopped, should have dropped the sword he put in your hands, could you have helped him, could you have taken him away from this place where he lost himself, or was this really the best option for him, would he have recovered after all of this hurt, would he have really been alright alive with everyone left hating him for what he did to them all?

Imagine he comes back as a ghost and when you look at him all you see is the sword through his chest it took two swings and the terrible look in his eyes, how angry and sad and so awfully tired he was. But this ghost isn't him either, this isn't the man you met for those short terrible moments, and this isn't the child you raised nor the man he became before he left off to adventure on his own, and this ghost wants you to be the man that he remembers, the father who raised him, who loved him, who played with him and praised him, but how can you be the father he loves when the last thing you did for him was help him to kill himself.

And imagine you've got this grandson you've never met, and he wants you to be his family, but you don't know him, and you didn't know the dad he knew and he looks at you with hope for a family, but he also sees you standing in front of his fathers dead body after two vicious swings you see yourself there too, and you start to treat him not as a grandson but at least as a friend, but he betrays you, and you maybe wonder if there's something wrong with your whole lineage, if you did something wrong with your son and he became who you saw for those few minutes and he raised this kid who is becoming just like his father now, and he's so broken and his idea of family and care is broken, and you just can't provide what he needs with the worry that he'll be like Wilbur, because you see that flame of desperation of devastation in his eyes and it’s the same look you saw shift into satisfaction as the life faded out of your son.

And then this grandson and his friends, Will’s old friends, his brothers in arms and in office, speak so bitterly of your son, this son they saw and who you seemed to have never known. And they hurt you and threaten you, and hurt and threaten the last person you have to care for. And, and they kill him. In front of you.

So why- why must they try to make me feel guilty! For leaving them to stay by the side of the one person who can speak of my son without talking like he’s a demon! You have said that Will hurt you, that what he did hurt you, but you still can talk of how you protected him, how you could speak with him and see glimmers of the Will you knew from when he was young. And even when I can’t talk to his ghost, even though I can’t look at the ghost of my son without seeing what I did, even though he is the literal ghost of the Wilbur who hurt you and everyone else, you still protect him and care for him. So, why am I bad? Why am I wrong and a traitor and cruel for wanting to be here?! With you! For wanting to stay here, stay with-” with you who I have loved and cared for through arenas and slaughters and battlefields and world wars. You, the only one I trust with my heart now, because it was cracked in two when I stabbed my son's and no one else avoids the topic of Wilbur the way you do, and not in that you don’t avoid it, but in how you recognizes that I was also hurt by the Wilbur that my son became just in a way that the others are too hurt to see, because they want a father figure or a mentor or a guardian, but you, you just want me, for me. Me, your friend.

He can’t finish saying all he wants to say, but Techno knows, Techno understands. And Phil knows this, from the way Techno had shifted during his spewing to pull Phil’s head against his chest, the way he tucked his cape tighter around them both, the way he runs one hand along Phil’s spine to sooth the hiccuping sobs and jittered shaking that he hadn’t even noticed he’d begun doing. It’s in the way Techno uses his other hand to run his thumb along the joints of Phil’s shaking hands and how at some point he struck up that rumble in his chest that has always soothed Phil on bad nights.

They sit in the quiet for a while. Only hearing the crackles of the fire, the slowing but still jerky breaths of Phil as he calms and the soft rumble from Techno.

“I’m sorry mate, I didn’t, ha! Well I didn’t know I was going to get that, into it.” Phil burrows further into the warm chest, tilting his head to rest an ear directly against the piglin’s sternum to let the rumble reverberate around his skull in hopes it might chase all of these thoughts out.

Techno tucks his snout against Phil’s head once again, removing the hand holding Phil’s own to grasp around the back of the man’s head and hold his friend more securely in his arms.

“Don’t apologize to me Phil,” and he moves his other hand to brush gently across Phil’s shoulder, the one remarkably not burnt in the explosion, tracing over thin black lines they both know to lay there, “for you, the world.”

[arsnovacadenza]

[KazuSou] o, son in the sky (part 1)

Ao3 link: here

Prompt: My son, I have nothing I can give/But this chance that you may live/I pray we'll meet again

Characters: Kosoushi, Female Kazuki with background SouKazu and others

Ancient Egyptian AU with elements borrowed from the Osiris Myth.

Soushi's long hair whips around his face as his talons slowly turn to human flesh before landing. His mighty pair of wings flap, once, twice, before folding in and dissolving into his back. No mortal man could stay under the punishing heat of the sun for too long and the sunburnt smell of his locks attested to that. Some of them fell loose from their knot and stuck to his nape like dead mosquitos

What nuisance,  he scoffed inwardly, not for the first time.  If it's out here then I should be fine. 

"It's grown long. Why don't you cut it?" A man said. Amused. His female companion's deep, chestnut eyes twinkled with mirth.

"When I think that it's alive, I can't cut it."

Soushi winced. Even away from his mo -that woman's influence,  distant memories that-were-not-quite-his continued to play in his head. Her magic must still be coiling around his head as tightly as they did around the base of her fingers like tattooed rings.

"That's a little irritating." Answered the male.

Damn right it is. Soushi released his hair from the confines of his ponytail and pulled them before drawing his ornate dagger. That too will have to be discarded sooner or later. He didn't need another constant reminder of a father who'd already been long cold in the ground when his mother birthed him into the world.

Without a second thought, he ran the blade through thick strands.

.

By nightfall, the heat had long abated and Soushi was alone with his thoughts as he trudged through the sand. Cold wind swept against his neck as he fought every urge to shiver. Gods don't get cold, he reminded himself.

He regretted not stopping at a village and packing a shawl or cape before deciding to walk through the desert. This part of the Lands wasn't yet corrupted, but still. One or two well-intentioned shopkeepers would offer him her charms before sending him on his way.

It brought a rather ironic memory from back when they were disguised as humans and staying in a random healer's hut after another. Soushi recalled a vivid memory from when they were in a bustling market that had imported produce and expensive silks from overseas. His guardian talked to a shopkeeper while he played with shiny rows of charms until a shop assistant scolded him for touching such a precious artifact. Kazuki promptly smiled, apologized, and left with a dumbfounded Soushi in tow.

"But Mother," he tugged at the woman's arm when they finally found a tree to sit under. "Wasn't that charm supposed to be yours anyway? You created that shape and gave it magic, right?"

His mother's smile was warm and reassuring, if not a little tired.

"It was. When I was a goddess," she patted his head. "But we're not gods now, are we?"

It was always confusing; his upbringing and her refusal to talk about godhood.

Soushi angrily hissed when a rather powerful gust of wind nearly knocked him forward. "You old cow," he cursed. "What? You think I wouldn't survive this long without flying back to your damned skirts?"

He unfurled the wings that he'd inherited from her and took off in search of a deserted temple to spend the night.

Just my rotten luck, Soushi huffed when he was close enough to make out the shape of a beak on one of the temple's desecrated statues. His progenitor, it seems, was once a widely revered god in the area.

His eye scanned for signs of those gnarled desert beats between the ruins and then sighed in relief when he couldn't find any. He slumped against a mural depicting his sire, his devoted wife, and then himself, bright and cheerful.

Lies, he grinned mockingly. He was never there. I was never there when he was alive. I only came into existence because my mother wanted to and I had no choice.

Then again, he supposed, all babes were brought into the world without having a say in the matter. It wasn't necessarily the love of their parents that resulted in their birth, either. He'd seen and grown enough that the world universe was a cruel, complicated place that even the most powerful of gods couldn't conquer.

He wasn't born into this world out of love. 

A vicious grin spread across his face as he imagined her mother slumped on a chair, sleepless and devastated over losing her primary tool for revenge. Possibly forever, if he decided to look for Maris and join his side.

"How does it feel, Mother? To have all those years you meticulously planned for my debut as your Soushi's successor gone to waste?" He spat, every word more venomous than that of the snake that lurked between the crevices of people's minds. "He is dead, Kazuki. If only you thought of that a little before shoving his seed into yourself and popping me out so I could fight Maris." 

Before she took Soushi's tiny hand in hers and took off in the night. Before she dragged him across crocodile-infested rivers and rundown temples with scorpions waiting to sink their stingers into his skin. Before they spent nights clutching onto each other as they hid from soldiers running amok with their khopesh and arrows at the ready.

As demihumans, they were frail. Stripped of her powers, Kazuki crawled from temple to temple, silently begging for the other gods to aid their cause.  A war to restore their glory was coming, and she promised that Soushi's son would be its harbinger.

Our Lands have no need for another weak falcon god; given more responsibility than he could ever handle, a ram-headed god sneered down at her. Kazuki was submerged waist down, where the water didn't even reach the kneeling god's ankle. And yet she gazed up with such undefeated eyes Soushi swore he could see golden wings unfurling before his eyes for a brief second.

"It was fear and jealousy that killed your father that day,"  she whispered to him once before as they huddled in front of an abandoned storefront.  "You will understand when you grow up."

To be exactly like him, he mused. It's such a shame they both would never know because he intended to cross the border and leave this life, this destiny behind. That is, assuming she didn't find him first. How will I face her then? Will she just do away with me and create another Soushi?  He shuddered violently when his brain caught on to what the process would entail.

And yet he had never slept more peacefully that night.

.

In the morning, Soushi encountered just another problem: the striking color of his hair. He rummaged around the empty halls of the sanctuary until he found a cloth large enough to fashion a makeshift cape. He threw one last glare at the (decapitated) statue of the falcon god at the far end of the room before leaving. 

"You know, if she wants to see you again so badly, I can't see why she doesn't just go,"  he yelled at the stone. "Would've saved me a lot of pain, really." 

Soushi knew he'd regret saying those words he wouldn't even spit out during his worst moments. But his head felt like it would boil over from anger and the heat did nothing to abate.

"The Nile be damned," Soushi spoke into the cape, now covering his mouth and hair. "If Maris knows how to rule, let him do it. The last thing these Lands need is a civil war." 

"A Nile that will know of nothing but loss and anguish for the years to come,"  came a female voice. 

"Who's there?!" Soushi whirled around, hand ready around a smaller, plainer dagger. 

But there was nobody, nothing as far as the mortal eye could see. But Soushi was the son of a god, and his eyesight was far sharper than that of any god that is not the Sun itself. Sure enough, not far from he was standing was a young girl not much older than himself. Her intelligent eyes exuded wisdom well beyond her years. Still, there was that trace of innocence that she expected from someone her age. Also, she was partially see-through. Soushi would've sworn it's just a desert mirage and that she would disappear if he blinked. But she didn't. Her stillness and godawful smile seemed to be mocking him. 

"You," he whispered. "What are you? What do you want?"

Nothing. The girl's eyes, darker than the waters at Ombos, seemed to say as Soushi warily inched closer. Her long, black hair hung still even as the wind picked up and sent flurries of sand their way. Soushi used what little power he could reveal to ward them off, never taking his eyes off the stranger.

"Soushi-the-Younger," she spoke softly, relishing the flow of every syllable from her lips. "So this is the path you've chosen —straying away from the path for Soushi, Child of Kazuki." Soushi grimaced, pointing the tip of his blade at the petulant child. "Neither," he snapped. "Once I'm far enough from the border, I'll just be a nameless demigod every one of you can forget."

Her eyes were trained on him, not unlike Kazuki's gaze when he sparred with some insufferable devotee trying to win her favor. Of course, they all lost.

"Better suffer and die a human than live as another god under her thumb," Soushi continued. Even if this was his mother's spy, he couldn't care less. "Like the Sun God.

The child wasn't smiling anymore. It made Soushi's confidence (and his anger) swell.

"Haha! Imagine that!" The young demigod barked. "All the power and magic to blackmail a chief god and she doesn't even lift her finger to seek vengeance on her husband's murderer!"

Their surroundings were stiller than the waters of Nun before Soushi's ancestors came to be. He really had no business launching a tirade on some random waif when he had no idea whose side she was on. Kazuki? The Sands? The Serpent? But he was too far gone at this point to even stop.

"What? She thinks I can do  better? " He wheezed. Now his throat was starting to feel dry. "She wants me to get stronger? Fine. I'll let her have her way. And when I'm powerful enough, let's see how she'll react when I use that very same power to send her entire kingdom back to nothingness!"

Soushi was very well aware Justice herself could be listening. And the Serpent too. Maris could come out at any moment and applaud him for helping him move his plans quicker.

"If that's what you think," was the girl's answer. "If it's Soushi, I'd believe everything."

If it's Soushi , the fondness with which she mentioned his name made Soushi suspect she was referring to Soushi-the-Elder. He never knew she existed before and the way she smiled just screamed nostalgia. 

He resented it all. He resented the feeling as much as he did his hair and the wings that the temple's missing followers recreated in molten gold. And the fate in which he had no input and heading toward a lifetime of war.

Against a war god. 

"You know nothing about  this  Soushi. Hell, if it were up to me, I'd pick some name that didn't belong to some dead guy."  Like his existence had no real meaning.  "All of you can just shove your expectations elsewhere and  fuck off ."

Maya would have released her celestial arrow at him for the blatant disrespect if she'd heard. This was a god's offspring denouncing his allegiance to the pantheon and his own people. But he was away from Maya and her stupid, loud brat of a niece who does nothing but sits all day playing music and preaching about love. As if love was the first thing the blasted kingdom needed.

"So you know," she spoke suddenly. Was she reading Soushi's mind? "You, who choose to run from which that has been written."

"Tell me," her voice was quiet but firm in a way that his mother would never use with him. "How will you bless this world? Now that you've chosen to rewrite your path?"

How... Soushi pursed his lips. As if he'd do any blessing after all of this. "This godhood thing doesn't suit me," he replied coolly. "Maybe if they pick someone else to do the job?"

"That child alone can't bring us deliverance," she warned. "Just as your mother and father aren't made to preside over separate realms."

"Not my problem then!" Soushi glowered, his cape swishing as he turned away. "That ram god was right, they were useless." 

The girl-shaped-mirage disappeared the moment he took another step.

.

In hindsight, waiting for nightfall and flying as far as the dawn would allow made for a much better idea. But Soushi needed provisions, and the heat had mercifully subsided to a more comfortable level when Soushi reached the town's periphery. 

All things considered, the city showed no signs of having been affected by the war at large. Soushi spotted soldiers in red armor, but they only stood watching as denizens went about their business. There’s a lot of foreigners here, he observed. Burly, thick-bearded men with curly hair bumped shoulders with Soushi as he waded through the crowd. Towering women with swarthy skin waved to him as he walked past their impressive pottery collection. If only Maya’s mother were here, Soushi wrily thought. She could use some replacement for the garish creations lined up along her walls.

Soushi held onto his shoulder bag's comfortable weight and reined his thoughts in. The security might not be drawn to him now, but one wrong move and they'd drag him to Ombos by the neck. Thankfully, the bustling market made it easy for him to hide among the crows and stalls. Even better, these people loved to gossip. He could fish out adequate information just by standing around and pretending to look for charms.

People are afraid that Kazuki's guerillas will somehow gain control of their villages, he pondered, munching on a fresh apple. Could it be the priests? I've heard that the guys at Abydos are pretty militant, but I can't imagine smaller towns and remote villages taking arms and risking losing favor with the army.

But then, what did he actually know about the overall might of his own mother's forces? Kazuki barely told him anything and still, she expected him to spearhead their revolution. She should count herself lucky Soushi didn't plan to dispose of her outright, with or without the Sands' influence.

And speaking of the devil, a group of guards in red had just barged into a store nearby, dragging a man out. 

"Someone reported that you were housing conspirators in this establishment!" One of the soldiers barked. "They even said you're still keeping effigies of that dead god, Soushi!"

The other, very present, very much alive , Soushi blinked. Maybe he read wrong and the guards here were just as competent as those in the new capital. The danger was real and it was just several steps away from where he stood. 

He gripped the crocodile army like a vice. What if he's just a petty thief, smuggling precious trinkets out of an abandoned temple and putting them on the black market? He rationalized. The dissidents are just traders. Nobody should be dumb enough to stir up a storm where they knew the Sands would be watching. That forsaken temple is just next door, so.....

Maybe it's a good thing I didn't linger there too long. 

They were starting to beat the man, ransacking his abode for evidence of treason and loyalty to the dead god. Soushi could smell blood mixed in with dust in the air and it was...

Hauntingly familiar.

He and Kazuki were prone to witnessing scenes like these while on the run. Kazuki would be posing as a beggar with Soushi curled against her chest, and their breaths would go still as men clad in red armor threw a man on the streets and battered him while he cried for Lord Soushi to magically appear and save him—

And like those times, Soushi looked away. He had no power (or lack of common sense) to swoop in and save the day. With regret brewing in the pit of his stomach, he turned away.

Only to catch the attention of two pairs of eyes from the shadows.

.

It was probably the guilt gnawing at him or just plain, dumb fate that led Soushi to stumble back to the temple complex and its run down-walls. Or maybe it was the god inside that called out to him as if the young demigod could save the beheaded statue from its lonesome misery. 

He was lucky he didn't also run into the Sands' hounds or the same bastards that nearly beat that other man to death.

"Fuck," he breathed. "Are you asking me to repent in some way?"

In his exasperation, Soushi went to find another, more secluded spot where he could build his bonfire or unpack some of his rations. He even contemplated shaving his head entirely out of legitimate fear of discovery and spite. Doing it on the temple grounds was undoubtedly a charming idea.

But first, he'd have to shoo his unwanted audience. "I know you're watching. Come out here before I drag you in front of the fire."

He immediately wanted to slap himself once he managed to get a good, long look at the intruders.

They were two girls, one around eight or nine, while the other was around....four? Soushi wasn't sure. One thing he did notice was how nearly identical they were with their choppy, long hair with the color of dry seaweed and round eyes of bright olive. Sisters? He guessed. The younger girl was plump and swathed in linen robes of faded red and white, while the elder one was mercifully skinny with a dark green cloak about her shoulders. 

It didn't nearly shock him enough to forget about his dagger. His mind reeled back to his encounter with the other mysterious waif, and he readied himself for an ambush. He wasn't one to harm little girls even with no witnesses around, but the Sands —and the Snake himself —were no stranger to luring men to their deaths with visions of their own wives and daughters.

"Give me a reason not to chop you here and feed you to the jackals," he warned. "Are you with the Sands? Or the rebels?" Them being present at the market when they got that man couldn't have been a coincidence.

The seconds dragged on like forever, and Soushi held his gaze (and his blade) at the siblings before the elder raised her empty hands and spoke.

"Our father told us not to come into the city until he's done making deals with the men inside the store," she explained carefully, her voice unwavering. "But a day passed and we were worried, so we looked for the store near the line of charm shops in town. We waited and waited. But even after they turned the store inside out, there was still no sign of Father." 

This is where he could hear her sniffle. "Do you think they captured him somewhere along the way?"

This is trouble , Soushi thought. What am I supposed to do with runaway kids clinging to me this close to the border? I shouldn't nose get up in their business, or that'll mean putting a huge target on myself and I don't need that.

We never had to deal with any of this when it was just Kazuki and me. We only had each other and that made everything easier . He realized.

Wait, Soushi frowned. But we had each other.

Twin pairs of eyes looked at him expectantly, never mind the weapon he was still waving in the air. It was the younger sister's words that broke the standoff. "We are grateful to have run into you, Your Highness Soushi."

Soushi watched the two sisters as they downed nearly half of his rations, occasionally taking a gulp out of his waterskin (which he had no reason to lug everywhere) and slowing down when Soushi told them to. He was a glutton himself when the opportunity to indulge in human food presented itself, but these girls must have been starving for quite a while for them to be able to stuff so much into their tiny bodies. And when they were finished, they only burped quietly before thanking the demigod.

"So," Soushi crossed his arms. "From the top. Tell me what you were doing in town and where you're going next. Better tell me the truth or I'm floating you down the Nile in pieces straight to Kazuki." 

A terrible way to end dinner, but he'd lost his appetite for niceties since he saw that man getting bludgeoned to death. And these girls would be in a similar spot, too, if they didn't tell him their whole story now.

Emery, the younger sister, was the first to speak. "We came from Peguat, Your Majesty. Ruby and I used to live with our parents and my younger brother. My father was a merchant, and he was a friend of the head priest who led the town's Temple of the Falcon God-King. His name was Narain," she explained. "In fact, the temple was where my parents met."

"You couldn't have known all of this," Soushi narrowed his eyes. "The cult fell nearly two decades ago. I'm not even that old."

"Right. The Sands had removed Your Highness' Father —bless him —by the time I was born. But the people of Peguat didn't lose hope. They, including my parents, followed Narain past the outskirts so they could establish another temple in secret." 

"And armies too?"

Emery shook her head. "We were a peaceful tribe —if we could be called that. We occasionally had visitors from Abydos asking our men to join them, but Narain wanted our people to stay out of trouble."

So I was right about Abydos. "And then?"

Ruby was visibly distressed despite her deadpan expression. Instinctively, Emery's hand moved to cover hers. "They found us," she recalled, the bonfire reflected in her eyes. "They caught our mother and our younger brother too. Only Ruby, father, and I escaped. Narain was there too. He said someone we did trade with from town told the guards on us."

"I'm frankly amazed that you all survived that long with the town just a stone's throw away."

"It was a miracle to us too! My parents said that's proof that The Falcon God-King hasn't abandoned us," she beamed. "But back to the story. Narain instructed us to escape the black soils and onto the red sands in smaller groups. It’s riskier, but the army had been doubling down on the delta years since your father's death."

"What's more," she paused for a breather. "The former queen and her son were still missing, and the massive manhunt for her whereabouts meant that we had the perfect cover. And it wasn't just us —other communities were on the move too. We all wore different clothes and accessories to confuse the Sands."

Soushi sucked in a deep breath. All this happened during what? When Kazuki finally rallied enough gods to build a stronghold? Soushi remembered starting his training when he was about half of Emery's age. "Alright. Fast forward. What happened to your group? And your father?"

"We were separated when we got too close to Ombos and our group leader ran into elite soldiers. Most of the adults were killed except for my father and a few others. Before leaving our last meeting point, we agreed to regroup in the next town after this one." Emery hugged her knees while Ruby fiddled with the frayed ends of her sister's belt. "My father told us he was meeting with refugees from Nekhen that night. We were planning to cross the borders together."

So they had the same plans as I do, Soushi sighed. "Since that plan's out of the question now, what are you going to do? Any backup? " He asked sullenly. "I can't imagine him letting you girls run around in case he fails. Any Plan B or Plan C?"

"We do. Father talked about a traveling lute player in the next town who's going to pick us up if everything goes awry." Emery's eyes beamed. "I know her, actually. Met her daughter too —she's funny!" Under Soushi's humorless gaze, her excitement faltered. "That is, I mean —we can absolutely trust her."

But Soushi was still rightfully unconvinced. "How can I be so sure you won't tell them anything about me when you meet them? No, wait. You didn’t even look surprised seeing me even though I was in disguise? Were you expecting to meet me from the start? Did the geezers at Abydos tip you off?" He sure as hell didn't think any refugee would dream of suddenly seeing their god in the flesh halfway through their exodus.

This time, it was Ruby who spoke. Like before, she showed no fear in the face of the vexed demigod. Much like the other, unknown young girl from before.

"We knew you were out there somewhere. All of us fully believe that you'd taken over Our Lord's place to watch us with your all-seeing eye." Ruby murmured. 

Soushi's eyes went wide with bewilderment. "You— I'm not—" 

I am not this Soushi that everybody wants me to be. 

"You know what," he groaned, rubbing his eyes against the back of his eyes. "Let's continue this tomorrow. We have a long day, yeah? I've decided to help you reach the next town."

"Really?" Emery piped. "We're not burdening you with our presence, are we?"

Too late to say that now. And what an inane thing to ask a god. " Really, really. But only if you sleep now because we're going out early. And no, I'm not risking myself to fly with one girl each on my arm." He noticed his mistake when Ruby shot him a look. "Yes, I have wings, in case you were wondering. And no, I'm not showing you."

He extinguished the bonfire with a flick of his wrist before gesturing at the girls to follow him inside. They had no proper bedrolls, but the tattered curtains and random sheets they found in the sanctuary were enough for the night. Soushi sat vigil by the altar base after he made sure the girls were warm and snug.

The half-pint Ruby just had to sneak in one last jab to throw Soushi off guard.

"I knew Justice would send you when this land needs our god the most," she whispered. "Your journey has only begun, but it appears your blessing has been decided."

........

Some notes:

For more context on this AU, check out my ramblings on why the Osiris Myth kinda goes well with Kazusou (with some mentions of Horus-the-Elder)

Notes on characters' roles so you can look up stuff easier:

KoSoushi = Horus the Younger/Heru-sa-Aset Fem!Kazuki = Isis/Aset. In some mythologies, she's either Horus's mother or wife. I went with mother in this one Soushi = Horus-the-Elder/Heru-ur with some influences from Osiris. His relation to the Horus we know is kinda muddy (some sources say he's sort of an uncle) but we know that Horus succeeded him in later years. In the myths, Osiris was chopped up by his bro Set and Isis had to recover his parts that were scattered across Egpyt. Festum= The sands, which Horus' rival Set had power over. Maris = Set, Horus' rival to the throne

Ombos: I kept talking about Ombos in this fic, so what is it? Ombos was an Ancient Egyptian city that served as the center for Set (the antagonist in Osiris myths) worship. In this fic, Ombos is like a second capital for adherers to the Sands.

Cities and areas

Abydos: Cult center for Osiris and Isis.

Nekhen: Cult center for Horus the Elder

Peguat: Also pronounced Piquat in Ancient Egyptian language and known as Canopus to the Greeks. This town was the cult center for Osiris.

[waiting4inspiration]

Her Eyes IX:  Into the Mountains

Summary: You choose to stay with your father and say goodbye to Geralt. Even though that was the plan since the beginning, it’s not a easy goodbye. Your father starts to teach you things you haven’t been taught on your way to the city buried in the mountains.

Warnings: angst, strong language, this will have a happy ending I promise, magical elements, mentions of bullying(?), little fluff, daughter-father bonding time

Word Count: 2,223

Her Eyes Masterlist II The Witcher Masterlist

It’s a silent journey. Geralt riding a long way in front of you and your father circling the skies above you, leaving you with your horse as your only company. Still, talking isn’t even a thought on your mind now. With your decision being made to stay with your father and live in the secret city filled with people like you, you’re not sure how you will say goodbye to Geralt after what happened last night. 

Before your father showed up and saved both you and the Witcher from those Magic Hunters, you had the mind of forgetting about being with people like you where you were so sure you’d carry on living your life alone because you refuse to be tossed around from man to man, finding out who will be compatible to you so you can have a family and just travel with Geralt. Now, with your father in the picture and his offer to teach far more than any Mage with towers filled with books can teach you… Everything has changed. You’ll have the family you wanted now that you have your father. And security for being hunted for your blood. 

You just hate having to say goodbye to someone you’ve grown so fond of. Someone to who you’d be willing to give your heart. Someone who might actually have your heart already. 

Coming to the foot of the mountain you had been traveling towards all day breaks you from your thoughts and makes your heart leap into your throat as your father lands slightly behind you, startling your horse a bit. “This is where we must part ways, Witcher,” Armen says, your head turning over your shoulder to look at him for a moment before you look back at Geralt. “(Y/n), this is where you say your goodbyes. To me, or to Geralt.”

You open your mouth to speak but stop when you hear Geralt dismounting his horse. He looks up at you, waiting for your reply, but you close your mouth again and drop your head between your shoulders. Then, you look up at your father, tears almost brimming your eyes and you gently nod your head at him. And when you look at Geralt again, he can see what it is you decided. He thought that it would be your decision. 

Dismounting your own horse and leading it towards Geralt, you clear your throat so that when you speak, your words won’t break. “Thank you,” you end up whispering, not trusting yourself enough to speak confidently. “For everything you’ve done for me. I was told to give you this upon my arrival.” Digging into the pouch on your saddle, you pull out a bag of coins to hand to him. 

It’s his payment from your uncle. Geralt had forgotten about this, that it started out as a job, and takes the bag from you with a small chuckle to himself. “I hope you’ll get everything you wanted,” he grunts, looking up from the bag to you as his smile falls. 

“I won’t. Not without…” You stop, swallow past the lump in your throat and breathe out a sigh to stop yourself from shedding any tears. “Here. Take my horse too. No doubt the mountain path is no place for a horse and he’ll fetch you a good price too,” you say, handing him the reins you hold and forcing a smile. “Especially if you mention that he’s-”

Geralt doesn’t let you finish speaking before he leans down, closing the space between you and him and pressing his lips to yours, his hand coming to touch the side of your face. You lean into his touch, kiss him back as you snake your arm around his neck to hold him close one more time. You thought he would be angry at you for your decision. But this doesn’t seem like anger. 

Armen with a soft grumble, as a cold wind blows down from the mountains making you slowly pull away from Geralt. But he holds you close for a few moments, his forehead resting against yours as his thumb caresses your cheek. “I hope, one day, I will see you again,” he whispers.

“I hope so too, Witcher.” Slowly, you pull away from him and turn to walk towards the path that leads into the mountains. 

With the sounds of your footsteps walking away from him, Geralt works on attaching the reins of your horse to his saddle so the horse can follow him, unaware that you have turned back to look at him one last time before venturing into the mountains, your father taking flight once again after a brief farewell and conveyance of gratitude for bringing you this far. 

Then, Geralt looks down at the bag of coin in his other hand. He opens it to quickly check how much he has been paid. But, on top of the golden orens lies a silver pendant with a dragon engraved in the metal. Slowly, he pulls it out of the bag by its chain and recognizes the older pendant you received from the traveler that told you of the Dragon-born city in the mountains. 

He turns to look at you over his shoulder but finds he is standing alone. He takes a deep breath, turns his head back around, and then quickly mounts his steed. Now, the best thing for him to do is put this place behind him. 

It’s quiet in the mountains. All you hear is the wind howling as it blows through the almost narrow path you travel and the flaps of your father’s wings as he flies overhead. The path has a few difficulties along the way, especially as it gets darker with the setting sun. And even though it’s quiet around you, your mind is busy and loud. 

Armen lands on top of the peak of the rocky wall in front of you, shifting to distribute his weight evenly, and then looks down at you. “We should stop here for the night.”

“I can keep going,” you mention, turning your attention back to the path that lies ahead and you take one step forward. 

“Venturing through the mountains without a clear mind will surely end in disaster,” he says in a booming voice that echoes through your mind. You stop in your tracks, stare into the dimming light in front of you as you breathe out a heavy sigh. “Look back. Look at where you’ve come from.”

You close your eyes and shake your head to yourself. You don’t want to look back. Looking back will only remind you that you chose your father over Geralt. Looking back will remind you of what you left behind and what you said goodbye to. You only want to look forward. But, you slowly turn around. 

When you open your eyes again, you see the path you had taken weaving all the way through an open expanse. You had not realized you were walking through this area because you had been stuck in your own head. 

“You could walk right through that nearing city and you wouldn’t even know it until you got to the other side of this mountain,” Armen says, lowering his head down, slightly closer to you. “A muddled mind leads to chaos. Chaos leads -”

“To dangerous affairs,” you finish his sentence, having been told that Akius after the incident where you almost lost control. “I know. I just can’t stop thinking. My thoughts are running through my mind and I can’t stop them.” You look up at him as you shake your head. Surely, there is nothing you can do about that. You can’t control how loud your thoughts can get. 

“You have been holding back on your magic because of fear. I saw that when I told you to lose control.” You frown up at him, tilt your head slightly to the side as you realize that when the magic hunter attacked. “You cannot learn to grow if you are afraid of what you can do.”

“I am not afraid.”

“Then let it go,” he challenges, nodding towards the empty field. “Lose control. Let your power flow through you without any restriction,” he urges and you feel something growing deep inside you. It’s the same feeling you had when you almost burnt down half of your uncle’s kingdom. “There are no repercussions here, (Y/n). Only freedom.”

You close your eyes, tune in to the fiery feeling growing inside you. When you open your eyes again, looking down at your arms, you see that small wisps of fire are flickering off the top of your skin. They travel all the way to the ends of your fingertips and when you look up at your father, he nods out to the open area behind you. 

Turning to face back the way you came, you hold your arms out in front of you and forget everything Akius taught you about control. You remember how people looked at you with a cautious eye everywhere you went as if they were scared that you were going to set something on fire due to your reputation. You remember how they would look at you and then whisper something about your eyes. You remember how you never felt like you were a part of them like you would never fit in with their society. 

Then, like a wave of relief, you let that all go. And fire streams out of your hands like how your father would breathe fire. 

When it’s finished, you sigh and lower your arms as you slowly open your eyes and to gasp at the raging fire in the open field that you cause. The bushes and shrubs are all burning and the destruction that will be left behind will all be because of you. But, the relief you feel inside you, letting everything go, it’s the best feeling you have ever felt. 

“Fire eventually dies. It burns the brightest when it is released but eventually, it dies and settles. And it leaves room for growth,” your father says, staring out into the flames you have created as you turn your head to look up at him. “Soon, I hope you will see it’s beauty as I do. And I hope you will not keep it burning inside you. Many Dragon-borns have died because of it.” He looks down at you when he says that but you turn your gaze to the fire in front of you, feeling the heat on your face as you watch the shrubs burning to sticks and then to the ground. 

“I don’t understand. Why was I taught to control everything if it would end up killing me?” you ask, shaking your head as you turn your gaze up to your father again. 

He turns, you can see he is ready to take off to the skies again so you turn to carry on walking on the path, leaving the burning field behind you. “You were taught wrong. You should not have been taught to control by holding everything in, but to control by knowing how much to let go. Have you let everything go?” You nod your head. “Good. Because we will need a fresh start if you are to learn things properly.” 

“So, everything I taught was wrong?”

Armen chuckles, flaps his wings, and lifts off of his perch. “Not everything. But most things. Come. The city is most alive at night.”

“I thought you didn’t want me to carry on tonight,” you mention, a smile growing on your face as you watch him fly above you. 

“I didn’t want you going on with a troubled mind. I think that has changed. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be talking to me right now. Or am I wrong?” 

No, he’s not. You’ve never felt more like talking to him than you do now. Your mind feels clear and quiet for the first time since you parted with Geralt. And you want to know more. You want to ask your father all the questions you’ve kept in your mind. Now that you are alone with him, you feel it is the best time to ask him. 

You lick your lips as you step over a fallen rock, press your hand to the stone wall to support yourself, and think of your first question to ask him. “Do I have any brothers or sisters?” It wasn’t a question you had hoped to one day ask him and it just came to your mind after thinking about how many people like you are in this city. You wonder if there will be any that share your parentage.

“I have only ever loved your mother,” he says with a laugh, looking down at you as he flies above you. “You will also learn, some dragons reproduce just because they can. Their children often end up being not so different. It is wise to stay away from them.”

“You’ll help me with that, won’t you?” you ask, stopping before you have to squeeze through a gap in the rocks. You know there is a hint of fear in your voice and you’re not ashamed of it. You think your father should know that you're scared of something happening to you. 

“I will be there to help you whenever you call on me.”

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[novaethecosplayer]

Hawks x Reader: A Homecooked Meal

A/N: Readers gender is not mentioned, nor (to my knowledge) is there anything race related. Just a cute drabble.

—————

You glanced at the clock on your phone as you passed by it once again. Rushing over to the oven to open it up and pull out the small round cake that you created. You set the cake down on a cooling rake and turned around to stir the pasta sauce that was simmering on low heat for a while now. You take out a noodle and test it to see if you had cooked it to perfection. You had. Turning back to the cake, you grab the various colors of frosting that you planned to use and set out your spatula to spread the base frosting as well as prep your frosting pipes. Taking another glance at the kitchen to make sure you hadn’t missed something, you nod, confirming to yourself that you have everything under control. You glance at the time once more. You make a mental note that he should be home within an hour.

You spend the hour finishing up your pasta meal and frosting the cake to the best of your ability before you clean up your mess from cooking and baking and set the food up on the dinner table. You glance at the time again, feeling your heartbeat faster as you recognize that he should be home any minute now! You can’t wait to see his surprised face at all your hard work! He’s been overworking himself lately and you figured he needed a nice homemade meal and dessert to cheer him up rather than the usual takeout you two end up eating almost every night. A nice change of pace and a wonderful surprise for your feathered boyfriend.

You rush to the balcony, ready to great him as soon as he lands. Your eyes search the sky in the direction of where he usually comes from. The rush of excitement coursing through you as you continue to look to the skies! A beautiful sunset upon the horizon, but no sign of your lover.

A few minutes past and you feel your excitement begin to bubble down.

A few minutes turned into half an hour. You sit on the chair at the table that you keep on the balcony. Maybe he’s just finishing things up?

Half an hour turns into an hour. You yawn, looking up at the darkening sky and once again search for the vibrant red of your lovers wings.

An hour turns into several and you sigh, standing up and walking inside. You’ve seen enough late night shifts to know tonight has turned into one.

You look at the dining table with your cold pasta and homemade cake, disappointment heavy in your eyes. You cover the meal up and place a cover over the cake as well, deciding to wait a few more hours on the couch. You head into the living room and get comfy on the couch. Just 3 more hours and he’ll be home for sure. He never stays later than that. You turn on the tv, feeling yourself relax and slump back into the couch. Eyes glazing over as the tv plays. Your eyes drooping heavier and heavier as you begin to nod off. Soon enough you fall into a deep sleep.

Several hours later, Hawks returns home. Feather ruffled, shoulders slumped, neck hurting, and eyes dropping. He glances at the dining table as he walks into the home. His eyebrow raises as he straightens up and tilts his head. He moves closer to the table and looks under the covers. Pasta and a cake. It look good and untouched. He reads the messy lettering on the cake, “Cake Break!”, and a smile twitches onto his lips. He knows that cake break means it’s time to relax. His smile drops when he realizes that you had set this all up for him and he didn’t come home on time for you to present it to him. His eyes glance over to the hallway to the bedroom before landing on the couch.

He moves over to the couch to see you sleeping peacefully. He brushes his fingers over your cheek and takes a moment to admire you. He’s so lucky to have you. You are the most precious thing in his life. He leans down and wraps his arms around you, gently moving you over as he lays down next to you, trapping your sleeping form between him and the couch. He closes his eyes and takes in a deep breath of your scent then sighs; a sense of calm and peace washes over him. He feels you stir in his arms and hears you grumble, waking up groggily.

“Kiego…” you drawl out softly and he hums in response, nuzzling his face closer to you without opening his eyes. You laugh at him sleepily. He feels his chest tighten and explode with love for you and for these tender moments you share with him. It’s so different from what he’s used to and he welcomes it greatly.

“Sorry ‘bout the late night, my little feather” he apologizes, still feeling guilty about ruining your surprise for him by not coming home on time.

“You’re home now.” You respond and shift so you can kiss his nose. A twitch of a smile turns into a grin that finally has him opening his eyes to look at you.

“I am.” He stated as he brushed his lips against yours before fully committing and kissing you. After he pulled away from your lips, you watched as he smiled and sat up. You sat up with him and allowed him to pull you up to your feet, his wings fluttering behind him as he leads you to the dining table. You look at your hard work sadly before he pulled your attention back to him by turning you to the balcony door. “Stay here” he whispered, before going out on to the balcony. You could hear his wings flap and then a thud onto the ground. He came back into the house with a huge grin on his face and yelled out “I’m home!”.

Finally, you realize what he was doing. He’s giving you the moment you wanted hours ago. You grin and chuckle at him as you begin to walk over to him. “Welcome home, honey!” You respond as you pull him into a kiss before you lead him back over to the dining table and remove the coverings on the pasta and cake. “Ta-Da!!” You exaggerate, “I saw you were working really hard and figured you needed a special occasion.” You embarrassingly explain your motivation for this idea.

Hawks playfully gasps and places a hand over his heart scrunching up his hero suit in the process. “My love made me a home cooked meal! I love you so much!!” He exclaimed and pulled you in for a hug as you laughed at his acting skills. He gives you a few peppering kisses on your face for added effect. “How about we heat this up and dig in!” He suggested, placing another kiss on your cheek as you nodded.

“Yeah, let’s dig in” you responded, filled with joy from the way he pulled together a fun silly moment to make you feel better about his horrible timing.

As he heated up the pasta for the both of you, he made 2 realizations and 1 decision. Realization One, he needs to make sure you cook for him more often and he needs to cook for you sometime. Realization Two, you went out of your way to make him feel better when no one has ever done that before. And his decision? He’s going to marry you one day, if you’ll let him.

[shadowdianne]

A friend who is actually starting to write her own book sent me a little thing back at instagram which was a cute version of inktober. For each day of august a prompt of word. She asked me to do it with her, as a way of making her write even a short paragraph each day and motivate her. I said yes, but since I'm quite the overachiever I did all previous days plus today and my plan is to do them all now that I'm up to date with the ones I was "supposed" to have done. Anyway, the rules we set for this were no tailoring afterward, no editing, and a max of 15 lines. It's not fanfic but if anyone wants to read them...

1.- Circle

The grass was dry beneath their feet as they moved, the nighttime air filled with the chants of those who hold the candles as they moved, shadows undulating, changing, as they rose their arms. However, If anyone would have dared to peek from beyond the trees that surrounded the clearing, they would have only seen the blue formations of the will-o-wisps as they moved and created the never-ending circle and yet, however, if any bystander clever enough, magical enough, interested enough, would have kept on watching, battling against the feeling of being watched that would have crept out on their back, they would have seen the figures, the lights, form and change and transform until the will-o-wisps were gone and, on their wake, the circle would have led to the wings of those departed, waiting for their time to come so they could traverse to the place beyond.

2.- Changeling

Their eyes are never the right color, their mouths form words no-one should speak outload, they teach us to never share our meals, our names with them, for they do not belong to us anymore that they do belong to what lies beyond the veil that permeates magic and secrets. Their souls were sold, way beyond they were formed, even if they wear lead and silver like any mortal would. They can touch salt, and eat it as well, but their redemption lies beyond the crosses and symbols of the religion that they were brought up into. You can make deals with them, they teach us, you can peer into those eyes and try not to lose yourself if you are willing, but remember that their bodies are borrowings, copies of imperfect molds. They exist and they can bring gifts, for they can step into said veil, but there’s nothing that will make them human, or mortal, even if they think of themselves as such.

3.-Lottery

The numbers bled ink onto her palm as she brought it closer to her eyes, the rain around her turning ice-cold as she tried to peer beyond it. The air freezing as she rose her free hand and moved a few stray hairs out of her eyes. She could feel the chill on her back and neck, the razor sting of the water turning to hail. “Is someone there?” She wanted to ask, the silhouette she had seen -she had thought she had seen- walking down the road now nowhere to be found. The lottery ticket kept flapping against the wind, the numbers beginning to smear as she brought it closer to her chest. Numbers, she would soon find out when she entered into one of the few shops down her street that would take it, that changed with notable pace. There was never a wrong one, she would realize, for each number would always be the correct one, would always give the answer that would need to be given in order to win. Then, she would ask, why the ticket was also stained with blood?

4.-Officiate

The bold man rose his arms and looked at us with a grave look, the shadows within the chapel seeming to grow and wreathe as we all stood, waiting. There was very little to do, beyond keeping up with his stare as he repeated the old mantra I’ve known by heart for longer than my years would have said. I let my mind wander when he didn’t stare at me, trying to catch the sins off our memories, the reason why we have been brought up here. I looked at the stained glass at his back, at the stories that were told with jaded crystals that our memories had conjured. With each night, the stained glass seemed brighter, our souls, according to him, purer. And yet, I felt light-headed, weak, as my eyes were captured once more, distant screams scurrying through the floor as we fell, knees first. Again, and again, and again.

5.-Enchant

He eyed the pendant that hung from between their intertwined fingers, the jewel encased in the middle of the brass and silver lines glinting under the electric light that hung above them. He was still able to taste the wine he had consumed a few minutes prior, the tanginess of it, the way it had stained his teeth. The light within the pendant glowed stronger as it beckoned them, their breath halting and then speeding up as their feet rose from carpeted floors, the wood panels that covered the room’s walls seemingly to throb as they kept on grabbing the pendant, the magic, scribbled beyond the details the artisan had created for them both. “A promise trapped in glass” The old man has whispered as he had given it to him. “A secret written within it.” He had replied, the words strange but expected, such was the way of the saying. He now was able to fear the heat radiating from the pendant, the magic, and he knew he had been lied to.

6.-Science

Beakers tinkled as she looked around the room, the papers, scattered around the body, the last strength of the dead man’s hand thrown over one small portion of white paper that was now marred with words she wasn’t able to understand. The inspector knelt next to the body, not bothering to check the man’s pulse as she knew him dead; the trail of blood pooling on his back enough proof of that, alongside with the scalpel, the broken pieces, of what could have been his latest experiment. Outside, beyond the sea of voices so normal in an investigation site, she could almost listen to the crows she had seen upon entering the building, their beaks open in a sempiternal smirk. She frowned and stood, fingers ironing her clothing reflexively as she took into the laboratory, the slight stench of fluids that had been spilled. And then she winced as her finger opened, sliced by one of the speckles of glass that covered her pants. Stupid, noob, she could listen to the scornful remarks others would tell her, if only the heat that now seemed to burn from her insides would end.

7.- Basket

It was sturdy, the old woman would often say when trying to sell the ones she made in front of her home, the porch worn and slanted but still giving her enough shade for her hands to work without breaking a sweat. It was sturdy and practical and all new-commers should buy one. What would you do, she would say with eyes so clouded they looked like the sky in a stormy day, with the things one was supposed to carry for long travels? What would you do with your food and waterskins? Where would you carry them? She would scoff at the words of those who politely told her that they had their backpacks. “They are not as reliable” She would reply, but she would shoo them away nevertheless, her interest depleted the moment they told her that they were supposed to go for the distant mountains, the ones that seemed blue from where they stood. She would insist more, sometimes, if they seemed hesitant to say not to her, toothless smile and quick tongue quickly lifting a few coins from their purses. It was sturdy, she would say to them, as she gave them the promised basket, the sigils woven into it blinking once, twice, beyond their eyes. She would smile then, promising them good travels, safe travels. She was rarely wrong.

8.- Ensnare

The gardener looked at yet another vine, sweat rolling down his brow, he could feel the dirt slowly resettling itself as he watched, the steps of the poor unfortunate who had ended up being trapped, ensnared, by the vines already beginning to disappear. There was very little he was able to do now, the body mangled beyond recognition, and so he brought a clean cloth and his sears and began the process of recollecting what little he was able to get, at least for the ones who had lost another family member, for the dead to be tolled, he didn’t quite hate his job, it paid well, as long as he himself kept away from the vines covering the mausoleum’s door. But there were days like this one, days in where the heat bothered and the vines were more playful than usual and their teeth nipped at his fingers, that he wondered about taking that final step, devoid of the protections the pendant around his neck gave him. If only to see if there was actually a way of getting lose from them all.

9.-Sky

Their wings fluttered, moved by the breeze that only they could see, and as the night covered everything in velvety black, the wings of the creatures grew in size, changing the sun with the moon, their eyes black holes that blossomed into galaxies only those keen eyed, where able to distinguish on the earth below. They danced around each other, the aurora borealis a stamp of colors their tails created their flight erratic for every night is different and every sky varies, even with the matted imperfections of their plumage -the constellations, those mortals would call them- The planets aligned as the sun disappeared, one last bite of fire hanging low on the horizon, and they kept on dancing, on transforming day to night, and then back and back again.

10.-Box

The box was engraved, numbers of family members so old it was difficult to remember them any longer. It was also covered in dirt, from the grave they had dug it up, their secrets locked away with a lock as well crafted as it was gorgeous; rust not seeming able to corrode the details of the metal parts that surrounded the names. Cold to the touch, permanently, it seemed to leave a thin layer of frost no matter what object it touched, and she bit down her bottom lip as she tried to remember the old nursery rhymes her grandmother used to sing to her, about the secrets she was supposed to inherit, the clues she was supposed to recall. Nothing, however, came forth, her own fingers felt cold and detached and her vision blurred and gone, the will-o-wisp lights that had seemed to grow stronger the last time she checked into the forest that surrounded the home coming closer and closer to her now, asking for a permission they didn’t need as her own soul had granted such.

11.- Catapult

He run, almost slipping over a pool of oil as the noise of the fighters and soldiers below reached him, the sweat on his brow getting heavier with every passing second. He had been tasked with one thing and one thing only: being a novice there was only so much he could do with a sword after all. And so, he run, run towards the catapults waiting outside the castle, beyond the riverbank. All the careful planning had been for naught as they had found a way into the place using the old catacombs, the ones in where numbers appeared written in blood, passages of a bible so cursed there were only a few that could remember the name of the book itself. He hadn’t dared to ask how the enemies had found a way in; the eyes full of fear of his sergeant had been telling enough. And so, he willed his legs to carry him further as he kept on descending the stairs, moving between bodies, and propelling himself in-between those who fought. He had one job and one job only and he needed to reach the riverbank. Or else.

12.-Ladder

The wood of the ladder splintered beneath her fingertips, but she didn’t pay any mind to the pain on her flesh. There was no point to it, after all, for everything she had tried lied dead at her feet, the eyes of the multitude stuck on her as she felt stricken by fear. She had been propped up the unlit bonfire, read her sins, what she had been accused off, and called forth a blessing from the mute skies. She had looked up then, narrowing her eyes as she searched for the birds that changed as the seasons did; she had been taught, instructed, to find those in the case she was found. Yet, nothing came forth on that starless night, not even when she began to feel the stench of fog and fire about to reach her feet. For that, for fear, she transported herself as far as her powers allowed her; to the silo next to the old road; the one in where Old Granny used to sell her baskets to those stupid enough to transverse to the mountains. The silo was closed now, rot settling in of what had been a small hut back when she had been a child, and so she had waited and waited for the screams outside to disappear, her legs around the end of the ladder, her arms, and hands clutching the top of it. A mere second longer, she thought, she prayed, and she would be able to escape, to flee, to those blue mountains she still could see on her mind’s eye.

13.-Carnivorous

The wolf is not evil, despite its large smile and piercing teeth, its tongue as red as the blood it consumes. The wolf is not evil but a warning, one created by the path that moves and curls around the forest, a way of keeping you focused and not dead. The wolf is not evil, it eats what you eat, it grows from what you learn. The wolf is not evil but a companion, one to listen to when you are traveling, hoping for the next curve of the trail to show the shadows of a town nearby. The wolf is not evil, but a guide, a mortal one, that can travel between what you know and what you definitely shouldn’t pry about. The wolf is not evil. Merely carnivorous.

[aboveallarescuer]

Daenerys Targaryen's tropes - Rule of Three

Sometimes called trebling, the Rule of Three is a pattern used in stories and jokes, where part of the story is told three times, with minor variations. The first two instances build tension, and the third releases it by incorporating a twist.

Three is the smallest number required to create a pattern, so it's especially common in storytelling.The third of three siblings succeeds after their older siblings each failed. The protagonist is given three tests and receives the prize after the third. It's almost unusual to find a folktale that does not incorporate the Rule of Three in some form. This may be an artifact of the oral tradition, in which the stock formula of the first, second, and third attempts makes the story easier to remember.

[...] Sometimes, an event needs to be shown three times to establish that a variation to the norm is happening. The first time the audience sees this event, they see it happening a certain way, but they don't yet know that this is typical. The second time they see it, it is the same as the first. This establishes that this is the standard way that things always happen. The third time they see the event in question, it is different, so the audience knows that this is a deviation from the norm. 

Dany's story is deliberately filled with Rule of Three examples. This trope is so significant to her character that GRRM even had her acknowledge it:

Her bell rang softly, and Dany found her thoughts returning to the Palace of Dust once more, as the tongue returns to a space left by a missing tooth. Child of three, they had called her, daughter of death, slayer of lies, bride of fire. So many threes. Three fires, three mounts to ride, three treasons. (ACOK Daenerys V)

Examples where the third time breaks the norm

1) Dany was the third of three siblings and became/will become everything that they couldn't be - conqueror, queen and savior

Dany had only been conceived when Aegon and his sister were murdered. Their father, her brother Rhaegar, perished even earlier, slain by the Usurper on the Trident. Her brother Viserys had died screaming in Vaes Dothrak with a crown of molten gold upon his head. They will kill me too if I allow it. (ADWD Daenerys I)

2) Dany has three dragon dreams, with the third happening just before she births her dragons

There are no more dragons, Dany thought, staring at her brother, though she did not dare say it aloud.

Yet that night she dreamt of one. Viserys was hitting her, hurting her. She was naked, clumsy with fear. She ran from him, but her body seemed thick and ungainly. He struck her again. She stumbled and fell. “You woke the dragon,” he screamed as he kicked her. “You woke the dragon, you woke the dragon.” Her thighs were slick with blood. She closed her eyes and whimpered. As if in answer, there was a hideous ripping sound and the crackling of some great fire. When she looked again, Viserys was gone, great columns of flame rose all around, and in the midst of them was the dragon. It turned its great head slowly. When its molten eyes found hers, she woke, shaking and covered with a fine sheen of sweat. (AGOT Daenerys II)

~

Yet when she slept that night, she dreamt the dragon dream again. Viserys was not in it this time. There was only her and the dragon. Its scales were black as night, wet and slick with blood. Her blood, Dany sensed. Its eyes were pools of molten magma, and when it opened its mouth, the flame came roaring out in a hot jet. She could hear it singing to her, She opened her arms to the fire, embraced it, let it swallow her whole, let it cleanse her and temper her and scour her clean. She could feel her flesh sear and blacken and slough away, could feel her blood boil and turn to steam, and yet there was no pain. She felt strong and new and fierce. (AGOT Daenerys III)

~

Wings shadowed her fever dreams.


[...] Ghosts lined the hallway, dressed in the faded raiment of kings. In their hands were swords of pale fire. They had hair of silver and hair of gold and hair of platinum white, and their eyes were opal and amethyst, tourmaline and jade. “Faster,” they cried, “faster, faster.” She raced, her feet melting the stone wherever they touched. “Faster!” the ghosts cried as one, and she screamed and threw herself forward. A great knife of pain ripped down her back, and she felt her skin tear open and smelled the stench of burning blood and saw the shadow of wings. And Daenerys Targaryen flew.

“... wake the dragon ...”

The door loomed before her, the red door, so close, so close, the hall was a blur around her, the cold receding behind. And now the stone was gone and she flew across the Dothraki sea, high and higher, the green rippling beneath, and all that lived and breathed fled in terror from the shadow of her wings. She could smell home, she could see it, there, just beyond that door, green fields and great stone houses and arms to keep her warm, there. She threw open the door.

“... the dragon ...”

And saw her brother Rhaegar, mounted on a stallion as black as his armor. Fire glimmered red through the narrow eye slit of his helm. “The last dragon,” Ser Jorah’s voice whispered faintly. “The last, the last.” Dany lifted his polished black visor. The face within was her own. (AGOT Daenerys IX)

3) Dany wakes up three times from fever dreams and gets up in the third attempt

She woke to the taste of ashes.


“No,” she moaned, “no, please.”


“Khaleesi?” Jhiqui hovered over her, a frightened doe. (AGOT Daenerys IX)

~

After a time—a night, a day, a year, she could not say—she woke again. The tent was dark, its silken walls flapping like wings when the wind gusted outside. This time Dany did not attempt to rise. (AGOT Daenerys IX)

~

When she woke the third time, a shaft of golden sunlight was pouring through the smoke hole of the tent, and her arms were wrapped around a dragon’s egg. It was the pale one, its scales the color of butter cream, veined with whorls of gold and bronze, and Dany could feel the heat of it. Beneath her bedsilks, a fine sheen of perspiration covered her bare skin. Dragondew, she thought. Her fingers trailed lightly across the surface of the shell, tracing the wisps of gold, and deep in the stone she felt something twist and stretch in response. It did not frighten her. All her fear was gone, burned away. (AGOT Daenerys IX)

4) Dany attempts to birth the dragons in three different ways: sleeping alongside the dragon eggs, putting them on a brazier and placing them on Drogo's funeral pyre. The third attempt works

“Please, bring me one of the dragon’s eggs.”

Irri fetched the egg with the deep green shell, bronze flecks shining amid its scales as she turned it in her small hands. Dany curled up on her side, pulling the sandsilk cloak across her and cradling the egg in the hollow between her swollen belly and small, tender breasts. She liked to hold them. They were so beautiful, and sometimes just being close to them made her feel stronger, braver, as if somehow she were drawing strength from the stone dragons locked inside.

She was lying there, holding the egg, when she felt the child move within her ... as if he were reaching out, brother to brother, blood to blood. “You are the dragon,” Dany whispered to him, “the true dragon. I know it. I know it.” And she smiled, and went to sleep dreaming of home. (AGOT Daenerys IV)

~

Was it madness that seized her then, born of fear? Or some strange wisdom buried in her blood? Dany could not have said. She heard her own voice saying, “Ser Jorah, light the brazier.” “Khaleesi?” The knight looked at her strangely. “It is so hot. Are you certain?” She had never been so certain. “Yes. I ... I have a chill. Light the brazier.”

He bowed. “As you command.”

When the coals were afire, Dany sent Ser Jorah from her. She had to be alone to do what she must do. This is madness, she told herself as she lifted the black-and-scarlet egg from the velvet. It will only crack and burn, and it’s so beautiful, Ser Jorah will call me a fool if I ruin it, and yet, and yet ...

Cradling the egg with both hands, she carried it to the fire and pushed it down amongst the burning coals. The black scales seemed to glow as they drank the heat. Flames licked against the stone with small red tongues. Dany placed the other two eggs beside the black one in the fire. As she stepped back from the brazier, the breath trembled in her throat.

She watched until the coals had turned to ashes. Drifting sparks floated up and out of the smokehole. Heat shimmered in waves around the dragon’s eggs. And that was all. (AGOT Daenerys VI)

~

She had sensed the truth of it long ago, Dany thought as she took a step closer to the conflagration, but the brazier had not been hot enough. The flames writhed before her like the women who had danced at her wedding, whirling and singing and spinning their yellow and orange and crimson veils, fearsome to behold, yet lovely, so lovely, alive with heat. Dany opened her arms to them, her skin flushed and glowing. This is a wedding, too, she thought. Mirri Maz Duur had fallen silent. The godswife thought her a child, but children grow, and children learn. (AGOT Daenerys X)

5) Dany births three dragons. She bonds with and rides the third one

She heard a crack, the sound of shattering stone. [...]

And there came a second crack, loud and sharp as thunder, and the smoke stirred and whirled around her and the pyre shifted, the logs exploding as the fire touched their secret hearts. [...]

Unafraid, Dany stepped forward into the firestorm, calling to her children.

The third crack was as loud and sharp as the breaking of the world. (AGOT Daenerys X)

~

Daenerys Targaryen vaulted onto the dragon’s back, seized the spear, and ripped it out. The point was half-melted, the iron red-hot, glowing. She flung it aside. Drogon twisted under her, his muscles rippling as he gathered his strength. The air was thick with sand. Dany could not see, she could not breathe, she could not think. The black wings cracked like thunder, and suddenly the scarlet sands were falling away beneath her.

Dizzy, Dany closed her eyes. When she opened them again, she glimpsed the Meereenese beneath her through a haze of tears and dust, pouring up the steps and out into the streets.

The lash was still in her hand. She flicked it against Drogon’s neck and cried, “Higher!” Her other hand clutched at his scales, her fingers scrabbling for purchase. Drogon’s wide black wings beat the air. Dany could feel the heat of him between her thighs. Her heart felt as if it were about to burst. Yes, she thought, yes, now, now, do it, do it, take me, take me, FLY! (ADWD Daenerys IX)

6) Dany sends her three bloodriders to look for a safe place to go and the third (who had followed the comet, strongly implying that it was indeed showing her the way) returns with news of Qarth, which is where she ultimately goes

“I have need of you. Each of you is to choose three horses, the hardiest and healthiest that remain to us. Load as much water and food as your mounts can bear, and ride forth for me. Aggo shall strike southwest, Rakharo due south. Jhogo, you are to follow shierak qiya on southeast.”

“What shall we seek, Khaleesi?” asked Jhogo.

“Whatever there is,” Dany answered. “Seek for other cities, living and dead. Seek for caravans and people. Seek for rivers and lakes and the great salt sea. Find how far this waste extends before us, and what lies on the other side. When I leave this place, I do not mean to strike out blind again. I will know where I am bound, and how best to get there.” (ACOK Daenerys I)

~

Rakharo was the first to return. Due south the red waste stretched on and on, he reported, until it ended on a bleak shore beside the poison water. Between here and there lay only swirling sand, wind-scoured rocks, and plants bristly with sharp thorns. He had passed the bones of a dragon, he swore, so immense that he had ridden his horse through its great black jaws. Other than that, he had seen nothing. (ACOK Daenerys I)

~

Aggo was back next. The southwest was barren and burnt, he swore. He had found the ruins of two more cities, smaller than Vaes Tolorro but otherwise the same. One was warded by a ring of skulls mounted on rusted iron spears, so he dared not enter, but he had explored the second for as long as he could. (ACOK Daenerys I)

~

Jhogo was gone so long that Dany feared him lost, but finally when they had all but ceased to look for him, he came riding up from the southeast. One of the guards that Aggo had posted saw him first and gave a shout, and Dany rushed to the walls to see for herself. It was true. Jhogo came, yet not alone. Behind him rode three queerly garbed strangers atop ugly humped creatures that dwarfed any horse.

They drew rein before the city gates, and looked up to see Dany on the wall above them. “Blood of my blood,” Jhogo called, “I have been to the great city Qarth, and returned with three who would look on you with their own eyes.” (ACOK Daenerys I)

7) The third fire that Dany must light is to (rather than for) love

The whispers became a swirling song. ... three fires must you light ... one for life and one for death and one to love ... (ACOK Daenerys IV)

8) Dany conquered three cities and ruled the third one

This dragon queen who wears her name is a true Targaryen. When I sent ships to bring her home, she turned toward Slaver’s Bay. In a short span of days she conquered Astapor, made Yunkai bend the knee, and sacked Meereen. (ADWD Tyrion II)

~

“Meereen is not Westeros, Your Grace.”

“But how can I rule seven kingdoms if I cannot rule a single city? [...] I will not let this city go the way of Astapor. I will not let the harpy of Yunkai chain up those I’ve freed all over again.” She turned back to look at their faces. “I will not march.”

“What will you do then, Khaleesi?” asked Rakharo.

“Stay,” she said. “Rule. And be a queen.” (ASOS Daenerys VI)

9) Dany is given the option to leave Meereen for Westeros three times in ADWD and only chooses to do so in the third time

“You turned north when you should have continued south and west, across the Summer Sea, but with my gift you shall soon be back where you belong. Accept my galleys with a joyful heart, and bend your oars westward.”

Would that I could. “My lord, I will gladly have those ships, but I cannot give you the promise that you ask.” She took his hand. “Give me the galleys, and I swear that Qarth will have the friendship of Meereen until the stars go out. Let me trade with them, and you will have a good part of the profits.”

Xaro’s glad smile died upon his lips. “What are you saying? Are you telling me you will not go?”

“I cannot go.” (ADWD Daenerys III)

~

“Your Grace, I must entreat you. My father’s strength is failing, but his devotion to your cause is as strong as ever. If my manner or my person have displeased you, that is my sorrow, but—”

“If you would please me, ser, be happy for me,” Daenerys said. “This is my wedding day. They will be dancing in the Yellow City, I do not doubt.” She sighed. “Rise, my prince, and smile. One day I shall return to Westeros to claim my father’s throne, and look to Dorne for help. But on this day the Yunkai’i have my city ringed in steel. I may die before I see my Seven Kingdoms. Hizdahr may die. Westeros may be swallowed by the waves.” Dany kissed his cheek. “Come. It’s time I wed.” (ADWD Daenerys VII)

~

You took Meereen, he told her, yet still you lingered. “To be a queen.”

You are a queen, her bear said. In Westeros.

“It is such a long way,” she complained. “I was tired, Jorah. I was weary of war. I wanted to rest, to laugh, to plant trees and see them grow. I am only a young girl.”

No. You are the blood of the dragon. The whispering was growing fainter, as if Ser Jorah were falling farther behind. Dragons plant no trees. Remember that. Remember who you are, what you were made to be. Remember your words.

“Fire and Blood,” Daenerys told the swaying grass. (ADWD Daenerys X)

Examples of three instances without a twist

1) The dragon has three heads (refers to the prophecy, to House Targaryen's sigil and to the Conquest Trio)

“There must be one more,” he said, though whether he was speaking to her or the woman in the bed she could not say. “The dragon has three heads.” (ACOK Daenerys IV)

~

“The dragon has three heads,” she sighed. “Do you know what that means, Jorah?”

“Your Grace? The sigil of House Targaryen is a three-headed dragon, red on black.”

“I know that. But there are no three-headed dragons.”

“The three heads were Aegon and his sisters.”

“Visenya and Rhaenys,” she recalled. “I am descended from Aegon and Rhaenys through their son Aenys and their grandson Jaehaerys.” (ACOK Daenerys V)

2) Dany is given three handmaids

Her brother Viserys gifted her with three handmaids. Dany knew they had cost him nothing; Illyrio no doubt had provided the girls. Irri and Jhiqui were copper-skinned Dothraki with black hair and almond-shaped eyes, Doreah a fair-haired, blue-eyed Lysene girl. (AGOT Daenerys II)

 3) Dany has three bloodriders

She turned to the three young warriors of her khas. “Jhogo, to you I give the silver-handled whip that was my bride gift, and name you ko, and ask your oath, that you will live and die as blood of my blood, riding at my side to keep me safe from harm.”

Jhogo took the whip from her hands, but his face was confused. “Khaleesi,” he said hesitantly, “this is not done. It would shame me, to be bloodrider to a woman.”

“Aggo,” Dany called, paying no heed to Jhogo’s words. If I look back I am lost. “To you I give the dragonbone bow that was my bride gift.” It was double-curved, shiny black and exquisite, taller than she was. “I name you ko, and ask your oath, that you should live and die as blood of my blood, riding at my side to keep me safe from harm.”

Aggo accepted the bow with lowered eyes. “I cannot say these words. Only a man can lead a khalasar or name a ko.”

“Rakharo,” Dany said, turning away from the refusal, “you shall have the great arakh that was my bride gift, with hilt and blade chased in gold. And you too I name my ko, and ask that you live and die as blood of my blood, riding at my side to keep me safe from harm.”

“You are khaleesi,” Rakharo said, taking the arakh. “I shall ride at your side to Vaes Dothrak beneath the Mother of Mountains, and keep you safe from harm until you take your place with the crones of the dosh khaleen. No more can I promise.” (AGOT Daenerys X)

4) Dany is the mother of three dragons

And my dragons, never forget. In time, the dragons would be her most formidable guardians, just as they had been for Aegon the Conqueror and his sisters three hundred years ago. Just now, though, they brought her more danger than protection. In all the world there were but three living dragons, and those were hers; they were a wonder, and a terror, and beyond price. (ASOS Daenerys I)

5) Dany is met by three representatives from Qarth at Vaes Tolorro (who are a deliberate reference to the Three Wise Men visiting Jesus after his birth)

One of the guards that Aggo had posted saw him first and gave a shout, and Dany rushed to the walls to see for herself. It was true. Jhogo came, yet not alone. Behind him rode three queerly garbed strangers atop ugly humped creatures that dwarfed any horse.

They drew rein before the city gates, and looked up to see Dany on the wall above them. “Blood of my blood,” Jhogo called, “I have been to the great city Qarth, and returned with three who would look on you with their own eyes.” (ACOK Daenerys I)

6) Dany receives three prophecy visions: she will light three fires and ride three mounts and know three treasons

Her own heart was beating in unison to the one that floated before her, blue and corrupt ... three mounts must you ride ... one to bed and one to dread and one to love ... The voices were growing louder, she realized, and it seemed her heart was slowing, and even her breath. ... three treasons will you know ... once for blood and once for gold and once for love ... (ACOK Daenerys IV)

7) Dany is called the child of three and is given three titles contextualized by multiple visions - daughter of death (because three men died so she could become who she is), slayer of lies (because she will reveal three assertions to be false) and bride of fire (because she will take three husbands).

Then phantoms shivered through the murk, images in indigo. Viserys screamed as the molten gold ran down his cheeks and filled his mouth. A tall lord with copper skin and silver-gold hair stood beneath the banner of a fiery stallion, a burning city behind him. Rubies flew like drops of blood from the chest of a dying prince, and he sank to his knees in the water and with his last breath murmured a woman’s name. ... mother of dragons, daughter of death ... Glowing like sunset, a red sword was raised in the hand of a blue-eyed king who cast no shadow. A cloth dragon swayed on poles amidst a cheering crowd. From a smoking tower, a great stone beast took wing, breathing shadow fire. ... mother of dragons, slayer of lies ... Her silver was trotting through the grass, to a darkling stream beneath a sea of stars. A corpse stood at the prow of a ship, eyes bright in his dead face, grey lips smiling sadly. A blue flower grew from a chink in a wall of ice, and filled the air with sweetness. ... mother of dragons, bride of fire ... (ACOK Daenerys V)

~

Child of three, they had called her, daughter of death, slayer of lies, bride of fire. (ACOK Daenerys V)

8) Illyrio sends Dany three ships

“It is so, Your Grace,” Arstan Whitebeard said. “The great cog Saduleon is berthed at the end of the quay, and the galleys Summer Sun and Joso’s Prank are anchored beyond the breakwater.”

Three heads has the dragon, Dany thought, wondering. “I shall tell my people to make ready to depart at once. But the ships that bring me home must bear different names.”

“As you wish,” said Arstan. “What names would you prefer?”

“Vhagar,” Daenerys told him. “Meraxes. And Balerion. Paint the names on their hulls in golden letters three feet high, Arstan. I want every man who sees them to know the dragons are returned.” (ACOK Daenerys V)

9) Three suitors outside Meereen are attempting to reach Dany in ADWD

When Victarion opened his hand, his palm was red with blood. “I’ll go to Slaver’s Bay, aye. I’ll find this dragon woman, and I’ll bring her back.” But not for you. You stole my wife and despoiled her, so I’ll have yours. The fairest woman in the world, for me. (AFFC The Reaver)

~

That was before Prince Doran had summoned him to the Water Gardens. And now the most beautiful woman in the world was waiting in Meereen, and he meant to do his duty and claim her for his bride. She will not refuse me. She will honor the agreement. Daenerys Targaryen would need Dorne to win the Seven Kingdoms, and that meant that she would need him. It does not mean that she will love me, though. She may not even like me. (ADWD The Merchant's Man)

~

“...It does make for a splendid story, and the singers will make much of your escape once you take the Iron Throne … assuming that our fair Daenerys takes you for her consort.”

“She will. She must.”

“Must?” Tyrion made a tsking sound. “That is not a word queens like to hear. You are her perfect prince, agreed, bright and bold and comely as any maid could wish. Daenerys Targaryen is no maid, however. She is the widow of a Dothraki khal, a mother of dragons and sacker of cities, Aegon the Conqueror with teats. She may not prove as willing as you wish.”

“She’ll be willing.” Prince Aegon sounded shocked. It was plain that he had never before considered the possibility that his bride-to-be might refuse him. (ADWD Tyrion VI)

Speculations

Considering how the Rule of Three was so important to Dany's story so far, it's only natural that people also use it to speculate on her future.

1) Dany is the third Daenerys that we get to know of and the one that will get to rule

While the three Daenerys’ don’t have anything close to similar lives, each of the Daenerys’ of the past seem to intentionally have call backs or call forwards to the canon era Dany. Both of them seem to foreshadow Dany’s current and future storylines with pushes for social progress and her future as the reigning Queen of Westeros. (x)

2) Dany's story is illustrated by the three walls of Qarth. It has three phases marked by her time with the Dothraki, by her actions in Slaver's Bay and, later, by love (read more about this in this meta)

Three thick walls encircled Qarth, elaborately carved. The outer was red sandstone, thirty feet high and decorated with animals: snakes slithering, kites flying, fish swimming, intermingled with wolves of the red waste and striped horses and monstrous elephants. The middle wall, forty feet high, was grey granite alive with scenes of war: the clash of sword and shield and spear, arrows in flight, heroes at battle and babes being butchered, pyres of the dead. The innermost wall was fifty feet of black marble, with carvings that made Dany blush until she told herself that she was being a fool. She was no maid; if she could look on the grey wall’s scenes of slaughter, why should she avert her eyes from the sight of men and women giving pleasure to one another? (ACOK Daenerys I)

~

Most of the "firsts” seem to relate to the beginning of Dany’s journey and her life with the Dothraki, just as the first wall of Qarth.

[...] Most of the “seconds” of the prophecies seem to relate to moments of war or moments in Slaver’s Bay, just like the second wall of Qarth is full of scenes of war. 

[...] And Dany’s third prophecies seem to mostly relate to love. Fire to love, mount to love and treason for love. (x)

3) Dany embraced fire and blood in two moments that marked the end of the first and second phases of her journey and will either do so again or reject it towards the end of the third phase

No, she wanted to shout to him, no, my good knight, do not fear for me. The fire is mine. I am Daenerys Stormborn, daughter of dragons, bride of dragons, mother of dragons, don’t you see? Don’t you SEE? With a belch of flame and smoke that reached thirty feet into the sky, the pyre collapsed and came down around her. Unafraid, Dany stepped forward into the firestorm, calling to her children. (AGOT Daenerys X)

~

You are the blood of the dragon. The whispering was growing fainter, as if Ser Jorah were falling farther behind. Dragons plant no trees. Remember that. Remember who you are, what you were made to be. Remember your words.

“Fire and Blood,” Daenerys told the swaying grass. (ADWD Daenerys X)

4) Dany had/will have two brief and unhappy marriages with her first two husbands (Drogo being represented by the silver, Hizdahr being represented by the corpse). Her third husband (Jon being represented by the blue flower) will finally allow her to enter a long and happy marriage (which the vision itself suggests since the blue flower "filled the air with sweetness")

Her silver was trotting through the grass, to a darkling stream beneath a sea of stars. A corpse stood at the prow of a ship, eyes bright in his dead face, grey lips smiling sadly. A blue flower grew from a chink in a wall of ice, and filled the air with sweetness. ... mother of dragons, bride of fire ... (ACOK Daenerys V)

~

The blue flower in the wall of ice is without doubt Jon. And this comes during the bride of fire prophecy, and it’s the third vision of the prophecy, meaning that it will happen during the third phase of Dany’s story, the one that is focused on romantic and sexual love. (x)

5) Dany had her first child killed and miscarried her second child. Her third child (with Jon) will live

She could feel the heat inside her, a terrible burning in her womb. Her son was tall and proud, with Drogo’s copper skin and her own silver-gold hair, violet eyes shaped like almonds. And he smiled for her and began to lift his hand toward hers, but when he opened his mouth the fire poured out. She saw his heart burning through his chest, and in an instant he was gone, consumed like a moth by a candle, turned to ash. She wept for her child, the promise of a sweet mouth on her breast, but her tears turned to steam as they touched her skin. (AGOT Daenerys IX)

~

When she woke, gasping, her thighs were slick with blood.

For a moment she did not realize what it was. The world had just begun to lighten, and the tall grass rustled softly in the wind. No, please, let me sleep some more. I’m so tired. She tried to burrow back beneath the pile of grass she had torn up when she went to sleep. Some of the stalks felt wet. Had it rained again? She sat up, afraid that she had soiled herself as she slept. When she brought her fingers to her face, she could smell the blood on them. Am I dying? Then she saw the pale crescent moon, floating high above the grass, and it came to her that this was no more than her moon blood.

If she had not been so sick and scared, that might have come as a relief. Instead she began to shiver violently. She rubbed her fingers through the dirt, and grabbed a handful of grass to wipe between her legs. The dragon does not weep. She was bleeding, but it was only woman’s blood. The moon is still a crescent, though. How can that be? She tried to remember the last time she had bled. The last full moon? The one before? The one before that? No, it cannot have been so long as that. (ADWD Daenerys X)

6) Dany is the third of the three queens (after Cersei and Margaery) that Littlefinger is referring to

“...What little peace and order the five kings left us will not long survive the three queens, I fear.”

“Three queens?” She did not understand. (AFFC Alayne II)

7) Dany is the younger more beautiful queen that Cersei is afraid of, which is only fitting since she will be specifically the third of the three candidates (after Sansa and Margaery) that Cersei will suspect

“I will be queen, though?” asked the younger her.

“Aye.” Malice gleamed in Maggy’s yellow eyes. “Queen you shall be ... until there comes another, younger and more beautiful, to cast you down and take all that you hold dear.” (AFFC Cersei VIII)

8) Dany couldn't trust the first two Qartheen envoys, only the third

“I have been to the great city Qarth, and returned with three who would look on you with their own eyes.”

Dany stared down at the strangers. “Here I stand. Look, if that is your pleasure ... but first tell me your names.”

The pale man with the blue lips replied in guttural Dothraki, “I am Pyat Pree, the great warlock.”

The bald man with the jewels in his nose answered in the Valyrian of the Free Cities, “I am Xaro Xhoan Daxos of the Thirteen, a merchant prince of Qarth.”

The woman in the lacquered wooden mask said in the Common Tongue of the Seven Kingdoms, “I am Quaithe of the Shadow. We come seeking dragons.” (ACOK Daenerys I) 

[cinnamon-bunni]

Title: Alone in the Wild

Fandom: Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild

Relationships: Revali/Link

Rating: G

Word count: 2234

Hello! This fic was made fore @revalinkexchange, and this was really fun to write! The partner I had received was received was @serendipitoustheodosia. Honestly reading all three of the prompts I got made me think of a wonderful idea of combining (for the most part) all three of the prompts, so this was very fun to make. I hope you like and enjoy this fic! Link arrived at the Flight Range, kicking off the snow as he climbed up the ladder to the small hut built there, similarly built to the ones in Rito Village. He was happy to finally be out of the snow, as he took a few moments to catch his breath, holding himself close to keep his warmth. The one thing he hated about being in Rito Village and especially the Flight Range area was how cold it was. At least the trousers and tunic he bought in Rito Village helped with the cold. He was surprised to find the building empty, though. He took a few moments to watch the snow drift down, and soon got up, and started a fire in the fire pit. He desperately wanted to be warm.

Link thought that Revali was going to be up here, but he supposed he was wrong. Putting pieces of wood into the pit, he started to create a small fire, and watched it slowly grow into a bigger and bigger flame. A grin formed on his face, as he could start to feel the heat radiating from it. He messed with the flame and the logs to get the flame to be as big as it could. When he was satisfied with it, he backed off (placing the pot above it again), and contently watched the flames dance as he took in the warmth. Suddenly, hearing the sound of gusts of winds and flapping of wings, he looked over to the landing area, and found Revali himself there, brushing off the snow that was on him, as he walked over inside of the hut, cocking his head to the side.

“You do know that this is a private training ground, right?” he questioned. “So I could practice and hone my skills. Not for you to start fires and cook food.”

“I was cold,” Link answered quietly. 

He gave a huff of annoyance "Well, I quite like the cold," he answered, “brings out the best in me; makes me want to work and train more.” He placed his bow down, against the nearby wall, next to the wooden drawer. "And unless you have a reason being here, you can leave."

“I just wanted to see you,” he admitted, albeit very quietly, so much so that Revali almost had to lean in to hear what he was saying, “and when you weren’t at your village, I assumed you’d be up here. Looks like I was right.” Revali didn’t say anything for a few moments, standing there, thinking to himself.

“Fine,” he finally answered, “I suppose it’s only fair to give you a meal since you traveled this far just to see me.” Link gave him a smile, and a small nod as thanks. “Now, how about I make us a Rito styled salmon risotto, hm?” Link gave a quick nod at this, mouth almost watering at the thought of food. As Revali started to take out the ingredients for the dish, he spoke.

“What brought you up here, anyway?” Link looked over at him, surprised that he asked. “Why did you want to see me? Shouldn’t you be in Hyrule Castle, getting ready for taking on Ganon or taking the Princess up to the Spring of Wisdom? And even then, between those, you should be training, like the rest of us. But I suppose that the hero that’s going to take down Ganon doesn’t need training, does he?”

“No,” Link answered, almost immediately, a little louder than he meant to, “I came up here just to see how you were doing. You take your role as Champion very seriously--well, I mean, everyone else does too, but you don’t make time for yourself. I just wanted to see if you were doing okay.” He rubbed the back of his neck in a nervous manner. “I also wanted to tell you something but...I think I’m going to hold off on that.”

Revali gave a small scoff as he cooked the salmon in the pot. “I don’t need someone to check up on me, least of all you. I’m perfectly fine; I play an important role in defeating Calamity Ganon, and I intend to do the best I can.” He started to plate the food, muttering under his breath, “Of course, not a role as important as yours, chosen one,” to himself, snidely, but Link could just barely catch it.

Link gave a small frown. “Just...take care of yourself, alright?” he said. “I don’t want anything bad happening to you.”

“Oh? And why is that?” Revali asked, snarkiness slowly creeping up into his tone, as he grabbed the plates of finished food.

“Because I like you.” Revali paused when he heard that, almost dropping the plates. He stared at Link for a few moments, as the Hylian suddenly became more bashful, trying to find the right words to use and justify what he just said. “I just. Like you. A lot, actually.” Link quieted down, mumbling to himself as he brought his knees close to his chest. He leaned against the pillows behind him. Revali stared at him for a few moments, very confused by it all. Link liked him? Why? Did he actually mean it? Revali eventually gave a small sigh, and walked over to sit next to him. Handing Link the dish, he quietly started to eat his own.

Link kept to himself, angry at himself and embarrassed that he admitted his feelings. He couldn't believe that he had just blurted it out, he was always usually so quiet, so why did he just do that? He had always wanted to tell Revali, but always told himself to wait until everything was dealt with, until Ganon was gone. It was just something in the moment, and it had just come out. He considered a few times of telling him sooner, in a more private area like this, but he really wished it had gone better than this. Link was always bad with his words--he supposed that’s why he preferred just not talking.

“...I shouldn’t have said that earlier,” Link said, finally breaking the silence, as he poked at his food and Revali quietly ate. He shifted uncomfortably against the pillows behind him, fighting the urge to lean closer to Revali, who was obviously more warm with his feathers and more comfortable in the cold. “Just...forget I said anything. I’m just tired and I’m very stressed, having to take the Princess to the spring up in Mount Lanayru...I wasn’t thinking right. Please just ignore what I said.”

Revali was uncharacteristically silent. Link expected for him to say some snarky comment, or just to even be rude about it all, but instead he was quiet. He was quiet as they finished their meals, quiet when Revali took Link’s plate (it still had food on it, but Link wasn’t hungry) and placed them on top of the dresser for him to deal with later, and he was quiet when he sat back down next to Link, who was getting comfortable as he leaned against the pillows.

“You should get rest,” Revali said, out of the blue, which surprised Link. “The princess wouldn’t want you to be tired while you escort her up the mountain, now will she?”

“I suppose you’re right,” he answered slowly.

“Of course I am. And as for that thing you just said…” Revali gave a small shake of his head. “I-” Revali stops himself though, and Link quietly wonders what he was going to say. That he returned the feelings? That he didn't feel the same way? He wanted to ask, to know if Revali felt the same way, but sleepiness and drowsiness was hitting him like a train. 

He found himself leaning over to this side with a loud yawn. Revali was startled when he felt Link lean onto his shoulder, and was immediately feeling comfortable against Rito's soft feathers. Link thought that maybe Revali was going to push him off and yell at him, but it seemed that he couldn’t bring himself to do it, surprisingly. Link felt a little bad for doing this; he knows how much Revali hates touching or anything physical, especially if it’s uncalled for, like this situation, but all the Rito did was tense up, but didn’t push him off.

“Sorry,” was all Link said, quietly, barely above a whisper.

“We’ll talk about this tomorrow,” Revali said, refusing to even look down at Link, afraid that he would see the blush across his face. “After you take Princess Zelda up to the spring. We can talk afterwards.” Link gave a small nod to this, barely registering what Revali was saying. Giving a yawn, Link nuzzled a little bit into the crook of his neck, sleep quickly taking over him.

Revali murmured something to himself, something indistinct to Link. He suddenly felt movement, and soon realized that Revali had moved him onto the pillows. He didn’t care all that much though, as he was on the verge of sleep.

And as he felt soft feathers against his skin, Revali (only from what Link could assume) almost caressing his cheek, he fell into a deep slumber.

~~~

It was 100 years later, and Link found himself still in the Rito village.

He knew that he should move on; he freed Vah Medoh (freed Revali’s spirit), and that he still had two more Divine Beasts to go and free, but something made him stay in the village, just for a bit longer. He sat next to the Divine Beast--who pointed at the malice-filled castle--and had his feet dangling over the cliffside as he watched the sun slowly set, the pretty colors of oranges and pinks and purples filling the sky.

He found himself thinking quite often. He supposed that’s what happens when you’re alone out in the wild for the majority of the time. His mind always tried to think about what his next plan was, where he was heading, and what he should do, but his mind always wondered off to something else, reminding him that he needed to get some hearty salmon or to trade his beetles for some elixirs with Beedle.

Link gave a small sigh. He wished that his mind would wander off right about now, because all his mind could think of was the dead Champain of the Ritos. Revali...his mind was hazy with him and that name, as it usually was when it came to most things, but he could remember a few key things. He remembers him being very rude, challenging him all the time. Something about jealousy? Link felt like he was jealous--it was the aura he gave off.

He could only remember a few things of Revali. He remembers clearly the day on the launching area in the Rito Village--he remembers the Rito challenging him, always so willing to prove himself to Link and to himself. He also remembers the Flight Range, albeit that memory is a bit more fuzzy. He felt like it was more...comfortable; more soft and quiet. He felt like they were talking--about what, Link has no idea--and he remembers it being nice. But then again, whenever he thought back to that, his heart ached in a weird way, which was something that Link wasn’t a fan of. 

Link quietly wondered to himself as his eyes were trained on the beautiful sky. He figured that he should get some rest--maybe in the inn down in the village--but for now, he was comfortable where he was. He wondered if back then, 100 years ago, if he had feelings for Revali, because he sure as hell did now. Following that, his mind was plagued with the question whether or not Revali felt the same. He doubted it, though; from what his memories could provide (which wasn’t much to begin with), he had a feeling that Revali didn’t like him. And knowing that fact just hurt him, but Link knew it was the truth. It was rather that Revali was really good at hiding his feelings, simply that he just doesn’t remember having a relationship with him, or it was just that the Rito didn’t feel the same. And, while it was hard to accept, he supposed there was nothing he could do, anyway; he was alone, afterall.

Link liked to imagine that Revali’s spirit was still here, and was sitting beside him. If he thought about it hard enough, he felt like he could feel him next to him, feathers ruffled from just getting back from flying through the sky and shooting down targets, with his feathered hand resting on top of Link’s as he fought the urge to lean in and rest his head onto the Hylian’s shoulder. But Link knew that that wasn’t true, wasn’t real. He knew that Revali wasn’t here with him, or that he even shared the same feelings.

The cold evening hair bit against his skin, but he didn’t care all that much. His mind was preoccupied with the fact that his heart ached whenever he thought about Revali. He didn’t even get the chance to tell him that he loved him. And now he never will. Link stared off to the horizon, the sun now almost completely set.

Link, like always, will be alone. Without Revali, without the others, and just in the deafening silence that was the wild.

[dragonrajafanfiction]

The Red Well (End) Sisters

You guys haven’t had the pleasure of seeing Erii fight in this fanfiction. I present to you, Erii the Dragonslayer. And yes... she really is like this.

Golden snake-like bodies were tumbling into the Red Well.  The stampede had progressed to the point where even if a Deadpool understood that, if it fell, it would die when it hit the bottom, the pressures of those pushing behind it overwhelmed its need to survive. You couldn’t tell the difference between the screams from eager hunger and the terrified cries of the dying as the over 1,000 deadpool flooded the well. The bullet-riddled far wall in front of you became a sparkling wall of gold, like someone was pouring champagne. Eventually, the bodies of the dead and dying piled feet high to create a softer landing for those that came behind and now the horde was surging forward, eyes bulging in madness.

Erii calmly put her notepad back into her suitcase as though the hellish bedlam behind her was as ordinary as morning rush hour.  Then she turned her back on the Light King inhabiting your body and stepped towards the edge of the maintenance platform.

The Light King expected fear and got none. Now it was curious and was again rummaging through your memories for this fearless being called ‘sister.’

Chisei’s voice from a memory you didn’t consciously recall spoke. “Chime… I’m sorry.”

“Brother… I just want to be with you.” Chime could barely speak for his tears. He was gasping desperately. His voice was muffled, like he was hugging his brother. “I just want to be there. Please… don’t leave me behind. I know I’m useless… Just don’t leave me behind!” His voice descended into crying again.

Your heart warms. You didn’t remember this and there was no visual. You’d passed out listening to the beginning of the sentence. But your ears had still caught and recorded those words before you had completely lost all consciousness. The meddling of the Light King in your brain gave you a gift. The Gen brothers had reconciled. It should have been impossible, but your own forgiveness for the death of Chance gave you the power to literally ‘move forward’. You’d given that forgiveness willingly and unasked and this is what managed to give them a second chance. Despite your denials that you cared for Chisei, you had internalized enough of Chime’s love for his brother to come through in the end. Chisei is still a big dummy, but now he finally understood how badly Chime loved him.

The Light King mouthed the words from your lips. “Sister…?”

This great being that had taken control of your body and locked your mind in a cage did not retain any of the memories from her prior existence. She was rediscovering the world through your mind. Since this little human Erii who stood unblinkingly before her was associated with a familial word, it was pulling the memories based on the emotions they invoked, the bond of family. 

Erii reached the edge of the engineering platform and stood at the precipice of the deep hole that would lead to the lake below. “The person speaking to me is not my sister. Let my sister go or you will pay the price.” She said.

You had never heard Erii’s speak before. The tone was sweet and clear, and almost bored, but the language was a biting commanding snarl in the language of dragons, like an alpha wolf disciplining an errant pack member and who expected immediate obedience without question. There were no honorifics or polite gestures. Just a command followed by a threat.

A boiling explosive rage burst from the Light King! How dare this pitiful speck speak to her in that way! 

Erii softly hums and a warm wind begins to rise from the bottom of the well. It carried with it the scent of death and decay. Erii points her finger down towards the water.

A dense red cloud erupts from the bottom of the well, tossing her hair and skirt before it engulfs her. It’s superheated. The pressure against the wall of the well caused the ground to shake beneath you. Heavy metal debris, pieces of the Yamata-No-Orochi and all the myriads of skeletons of the dragon kin that died in the lake are carried in what could only be described as a geyser, a pyroclastic flow from a volcano in miniature. The rocks tremble and leap at your feet.  The encroaching Deadpool swarm hesitates to advance, fearful of that great heat.

The cloud continues to rise until it reaches the well opening and would appear like a dark red smoke in the middle of the mountains. Just like a cloud, it condensed as it rose and soon an eerie red rain began to fall. The objects carried by the cloud rained down too. Bones and body parts land with dull splats on the ground.

Your body’s limbs burst with energy and leap toward Erii. Your eyes are on her delicate white neck. Your arm curls to cut her with the Gathering Cloud Sword! The killing intent was clear. The Light King wanted to see her head sail off her body! But Erii disappears into that dense cloud of red. In seconds, your body is drenched in rank deadpool blood and chemicals. 

You look down into the well. Erii had instantly evaporated all the water in the well. The kilometer wide lake was completely empty.

As the mist clears you see a delicate running figure! Erii is fleeing! The Light King feels triumphant. Yes, run little sister! Fear me!

Erii had run to the other side of the well towards the safety cabins. The Light King laughed, pulling a memory that told her that the safety cabins could protect you from harm. So this pathetic little creature was afraid after all!

Her laughter stopped when Erii tossed her suitcase into the cabin and shut the door before turning back around. She wasn’t running in to protect herself. 

She just wanted to protect her stuff. 

Erii’s flight had taken her right into the middle of the deadpool swarm and they surrounded her like an army of footsoldiers. But no one wanted to be the first to strike. There was about ten yards between her and the deadpool swarm and they swayed like seagrass on their tails while Erii raised her hand. Her mouth opened and her voice spoke a single word. 

“Death!”

Evaporating the water wasn’t just a cover. Hydra had dumped 5,000 tons of mercury into the well. Mercury was far denser than water and extremely heavy. It had settled in a silver layer at the bottom of the lake and was now exposed. This silver layer came up, not as a cloud, but as a perfect sphere of liquid metal, like the pinball of a pinball machine. 

Erii snapped her hand shut. “Death!”

The silver ball burst into millions of silver mercury bullets and fired like birdshot into the thousands of dead pool bodies. In an instant, hundreds of perfect round holes were pitting into their scales. The speed and force of those projectiles drilled into their flesh and began to corrode the deadpool from the inside out. Black blood squirted in tiny streams from each of them like someone had poked holes into a plastic water bottle.

The front of the deadpool collapsed and they rushed to the wall to try to escape. The winged deadpool and those who could sprout wings tried to take off towards the opening of the well and get away from this monster!

Erii’s crimson eyes burned red and gold. She knelt down as though picking up a large and heavy object. Her hands closed around something and a force like a magnetic pulse that crackled with blue electricity sparked across the entire well. All the weapons in the well, from guns to rocket launchers to knives and swords levitated and converged towards her hand. All the weapons from the Engineering team and the Hydra operatives that had been left in the well were now being wielded by Erii.

When she lifted her hands over her head, these thousands of weapons lifted and came to be in the shape of a great blade, a blade made out of many individual weapons, something like the world had never seen before.

“Death!”

Erii swung this ‘sword’ once in a horizontal arc. The sword fractured and all the weapons surrounded her in a spectacular circular array and fired all at once. All the pistols, the submachine guns, the vulcan cannons, the rocket launchers - They all fired at the same time in a single thunderous volley! The swords and the knives flew out like self-propelled bullets, chasing and cutting their targets to pieces.

Deadpool heads exploded, their limbs fell off, they were skewered  and pinned to the ground and to the surrounding rocks. They were even pierced together like pieces of meat on a kabob. These powerful creatures had been reduced to fish in a barrel, unable to flee the unbelievable slaughter.

The army that the Light King had summoned fell under the bullets and were sliced apart by the flying swords. The winged deadpools’ limbs were severed before they could reach the top of the well. Their bodies were split to pieces and they fell to the ground in sections.

It was not that Erii knew how to wield any of these weapons. She didn’t have to. Her command to kill was enough for these weapons to fire with maximum lethality. Her life was like a video game where the player didn’t have to know how to kill anyone or anything. The enemy units died at the push of the button.

Erii was now walking unobstructed back towards the Light King on bloody ground, her red hair and bloody skirt flapping in the wind. Her skin is covered in silvery white scales, and from her hair two crystalline horns twisted in a straight corkscrew. Her golden eyes were like determined jewels and locked on yours. She was unarmed. But for the first time, you feel a cold creeping dread from this dragon in your body. You smile inwardly as you watch Erii come towards you. 

You recite your vow in your mind. “We are bound by blood and by love. We will never betray each other. We will always defend each other. And when one calls for help, we will dash to their rescue. If anyone comes between us… may they die!”

The Light King finally understood. A sister was blood and love, a violent and desperate thing. If the Light King wanted to fully resurrect and evolve with your body it would have to kill this sister!

The monster in your body dashed across the distance between you and Erii with inhuman speed, bare feet running heedlessly over the uneven ground, splashing up a wake of blood five feet high. Erii regally pulled herself straight to her full height like a queen and let this being come. Her body grew closer and closer in your vision and a scream tears from your throat. You can see the frightening emotionlessness behind Erii’s golden pupils before a metal disc as twice as tall as you are buzzsaws between you.

Instead of using a literal sword, Erii had summoned the saw blade that had broken the Yamata-no-Orochi into pieces. With the single command, she not only controlled the weapons, but also every object on the field, including the tools of the scientists.

You see your own reflection in this metal blade. Your skin is covered in scales like Erii’s. Your eyes are the color of lava -- gold and red and black. But the sudden appearance of this sawblade made your eyes widen with surprise.  The sawblade caught the swing of the Gathering Clouds sword and snapped in half. Erii gripped those gigantic half moon blades  as easily as if they were a pair of paper fans!

With every slash of the Gathering Cloud sword the buzzsaw snaps into more pieces! But Erii doesn’t stop her assault, wielding four, eight and then sixteen super sharp pieces of a giant circular saw against you. The shattered wheel spirals like fire in the air and the Gathering Cloud sword is a blur in your hand. The images of your body and Erii’s body disappear in this light as each of you reaches the limits of your speed and agility. But Erii doesn’t have to directly control every piece like you have to directly control the sword. In this she has the advantage. Soon there are two many pieces for even the dragon to follow. You scream inside and the Light King controlling you screams with your voice! The blades slice through your dress and through your scales, leaving deep gouges of running blood.

The Light King has not fed and doesn’t have much energy, but it draws from the reserves of your body and the skin of your back cracks open revealing large bone wings.  Your new wings stir the air. You wave the sword of Gathering Clouds and shoot upward to flee! The dragon inside you has given up on defeating Erii and wants to escape to eat!

A huge metal arm swings at you before you get half way out. Attached to a tall crane is a large sling  that had been used to hoist the Orochi out of the ice. This sling catches you like a butterfly in a net. The Light King slices its way out of this net but a bright light of a laser cutter severs that crane arm in two and the arm crashes down on you and brings you back to the ground. You’re pinned under this debris.

Erii is standing, legs parted and firm, holding a gigantic steel barrel over her head. She throws this barrel and the laser cutter swings to cut it open! A clear smoking liquid splashes out and covers you. You’re overtaken with a sudden painful, unbelievable cold! Freezing fog sweeps the well and the red rain freezes solid and turns to crimson ice and snow.

Liquid nitrogen! Erii has found one of the tanks of the liquid nitrogen and was using it to slow your body down! It burns you like fire and you want to curl into a ball and pass out, but so long as the dragon controlling your body was awake so were you and you just had to endure the pain.

The Light King doesn’t give up but it’s shivering violently. Your muscles are stiff with cold and the crane arm is heavy. It presses your hands to the ground to push up and slowly the metal debris starts to lift. 

A loud rumble reaches your ears. Erii, eyes still blazing with golden fire, has turned the laser cutters to the wall of the well. The lasers started on opposite sides and met in the middle and a huge chunk of solid rock slid off the well wall, bringing down boulders the size of cars onto the scattered remains of the dead and what was left of the undamaged equipment. 

A second crane grabs this house sized boulder on a hook and two-feet thick chain and Erii’s tiny body leaps up to seize that chain. With a mighty heave she lifts that boulder and throws it down on you.

The Light King’s vision fills with what could only be described as a meteor coming down on it. But it was helpless to dodge. It takes the full force of the blow and the crushing weight that leaves a meters wide crater. Erii lifts the boulder and the Light King’s wings have been shattered. But she still looks up and cries out in defiance! Erii is merciless and lifts the boulder again! The boulder smashes down again! The Light King in your body is gasping in stunned disbelief. But Erii is not finished. She brings down the boulder again! And again!

The thunderous sound of this brutal beating sounds like exploding dynamite. The entire area shook and it registered on Tokyo’s Earthquake Monitoring System. She brought down that boulder on your head until it finally shattered to pieces and fell from the hook. Erii leaped from the crane and walked up to you, striding confidently through the shattered rock.

The Light King had no strength left in this body. Your mind is blank with pain. You barely register that Erii is standing over you and looking down at you.

A small thing is wiggling on your back, attached to your spine. The Light King has decided that it doesn’t want your body any more. It wants Erii’s! It lets you go and is trying to wriggle out of your scaly skin. But Erii points at it with one delicate fingertip.

“Death.”

There’s a soft snap, like someone breaking a pencil in half. The creature stiffens. Its whole body turns black and then it crumbles to ashes.

The legacy of the Light King ended in that moment. The Light King would no longer rise again in the world.

The violent presence in your mind releases and you’re suddenly back in your body! The pain is dizzying, but your body is already working frantically to heal itself from its injuries. Your muscles are twitching with phenomenal regrowth even with this terrible cold. Erii lifts off the remaining debris from you and hugs you. 

You relax into her warm embrace and you shiver. Your body is split open still and your blood soaks her head to toe. Little by little, the scales disappear to reveal plain white skin. Erii’s horns loosen and fall from her head.

“How did you find me?” You ask her.

Erii doesn’t speak again. She just shakes her head slightly and ducks under your arm to help you to your feet. She supports you all the way across one of the most devastating battlefields in history to the safety cabin and sets you down before opening the door and returning with a notebook. She writes in it and shows it to you.

“I don’t know. I was supposed to be going to the airport. Have you seen Sakura?”