#i hope?? i can make it durring lights out

[vishnavishivaa]

Ajab Si Adaayein

This OS was something I visualized as I was returning home and listening to the song, and thought to write it as a vignette, essentially. They are SatyabhamaShyam in the modern world, and if you want, I can make this a series of OS'.

*******

Maadhavi was sweating in the sultry heat of the Sun. She was in an auto, exasperated at the slow moving traffic. She was on her way back home after a grueling dance class, lasting about three hours. She needed a long shower, despite having taken a quick one at dance class and changing into brand new clothes. The Sun made it even harder, as she gently wiped the sweat away from her neck. She fiddled with her phone, choosing a random romantic song, sighing softly. Every song reminded her of her Krishna, as always.

As the song she was listening to neared its end, she peered out of the auto, her eyes landing on the car next to her. Her breath caught in her throat when her eyes met dark chocolate brown ones, which also widened the smallest amount in response to her. She could feel her heart flutter in her chest, and a shiver run down her spine. Those eyes, she knew those eyes.

Aankhon mein teri, ajab si ajab si adaayein hai

Indeed there was something so stunningly graceful about his eyes, about his gaze. It was all penetrating, yet very gentle and questioning, as if needing her acceptance to just gaze. She blushed at the hope in his eyes, and prayed her answer got translated to him.

Dil ko banade jo patang saasein yeh teri woh hawaayein hai

He had gotten her acceptance, for his gaze was on her, unwavering, making her turn redder than the tomato that she loved eating often. She knew she too was staring, but she was not even able to stop herself.

There, in the middle of a typical Chennai traffic, as the vehicles moved inch by inch, Maadhavi had found the one who made her heart breath new lives, somehow.

Aankhon mein teri, ajab si ajab si adaayein hai

Maadhavi wondered what he was thinking, and when she got so shameless with staring at a guy. That thought alone pulled her back and she looked down shyly, though her eyes sprung back to the man in passenger seat, whose eyes had not moved an inch from her, clearly.

***

Aai aisi raat hai joh bahut khushnaseeb hai

chaahe jisse dur se suniya vo mere khareeb hai

While it was not night, the day was heading there. Dusk was fast approaching, and this was when Shyam had spotted the young woman in the auto. He had first glanced at her because he could feel the familiarity. But when she too turned to look at him, as if in a synchronized set of events, Shyam had frozen. Those eyes were filled with warmth, forgiveness and acceptance, and they reminded him of the eyes which lived in his dreams and memories. He could not even move his eyes, nor did he want to.

To him, she was the one who would be wanted by people even without her knowledge, her radiance told him as much. But here she was, in the vehicle next to his. He ignored his smirking elder brother, and just allowed his hidden romantic to take over, observing every little action of hers.

Kitna kuch kehna hai phir bhi hai dil mein sawaal kahi

Sapno mein joh roz kaha hai woh phirse kahun yaa nahi

His heart was thrumming with a melodious sound created by the contact of their eyes, Shyam felt. He could not bear to look away. He smiled softly when she did, her round cheeks red, a blush that spread at least up to her neck. Her eyes again peered at him, causing his heart to now sing happily. He tried to silence it, but he was used to accepting life as it happened, so he settled, allowing the course of Destiny to dictate the happenings.

Aankhon mein teri ajab si ajab si adaayein hai

***

Tere saath saath aisa koi noor aaya hai

He had become the light that shone magnificently as the sun approached the West. Maadhavi could not believe she was still caught in traffic, and still gazing at the same man. His eyes felt like her Krishna's, his smile too felt familiar, and the gentle warmth he spread touched her very soul, making her smile in response, a radiant smile at the joy his warmth spread within.

chand teri roshni ka halka sa ek saaya hai

Shyam knew that not even the romance of the moonlight could touch the splendid nature of the light her heart radiated. The purity of her showed on her beautiful face, which had a gentle yet obvious jawline, framing a round face like the moon, lotus petal eyes, red lips, and skin that seemed to be both golden and dusky at the same time. His eyes though were drawn repeatedly to her light coloured orbs, which reflected the Sun to him. Yet the depth in them felt like his own Soul.

teri nazaron ne dil ka kiya jo hashar asar yeh hua

ab in mein bhi doob ke ho jaon paar yahi hai hua

Maadhavi and Shyam both jerked when they realized the traffic had started moving. It felt as if the traffic had stopped miraculously so that they could see each other, and now that it had happened, there was sudden movement. But she was not ready to let go. Maadhavi wanted to drown herself in his eyes, and she prayed under her breath, "Krishna, may we unite soon."

Shyam, on the other hand, was feeling his heart beat a little off track, as if not wanting to separate and yet having to. He gazed at her, trying to take her in to the maximum he could, as both the vehicles started to speed. He knew they would meet again soon, he just knew. Till then, he could wait.

"Mahadeva, may my meeting her again happen soon."

The two hearts, which had recognized each other that day, were parted by the movement of life and time; but both souls, which had been exchanged by the medium of two pairs of eyes, awaited eagerly for the day where they could converse freely once more.

******

This is probably the first song fic I have written entirely, and that I posted as well. It has a special place in my heart.

I do have more song fics coming, especially for modern reincarnations, of a wide variety of pairs.

@ahamasmiyodhah @mahi-wayy @yehsahihai @theramblergal @krsnaradhika @ramayantika @achyutapriya @thegleamingmoon @nidhi-writes @houseofbreadpakoda @hum-suffer @kanhapriya @kaal-naagin @krishna-priyatama @willkatfanfromasia @celestesinsight @arachneofthoughts @idllyastuff @mahaswrites @braj-raj @krishna-sangini @krishna-premi @chaliyaaa @tripurantaka Please please let me know what you all think. I want your feedback! Shall I write more? Any songs/couples you all want?

[taro-pdf]

tell me about the sunfish

OH BOY DO YOU KNOW HWAT YOU HAVE DONE??? HERE I GO:

(IDs in alt text.)

So there's this family of fish called molidae, yeah? and in molidae there's three families, Mola, Masturus, and Ranzania, and five species.

All of them have weirdo tails, in that their tails are like, gone. Their caudal fin is very stunted and used like a rudder, while anal and dorsal are used to propel. See below.

That's a Mola alexandrini and Mola tecta (drawn by yours truely), aka gian sunfish and hoodwinker sunfish! Molidae start their life as teeny tiny larva only a few cells large, and only a few of the thousands eggs released make it to adulthood. Molas are also the largest boney fish. The largest recorded Mola is M. alexandrini, with the most recent record breaker being about 11 feet long and weighing 6,000 lbs. Thats about 3.4 meters & 2700 kg! !!! WILD.

Despite being ginormous, Molidae as a whole are actually really low in nutritional value. See, the fish of Molidea's diet is soft squishy low calorie things they can inhale. They inhale because they can't close their mouths; they're always open, looking extremely surprised. So they eat things like jellyfish, zooplankton, and squid.

And how they go about eating is really cool, too. All the genus Mola dives thousands of feet in the ocean! Durring the day, most of their prey is down there due to the "diurnal vertical migration"--zooplankton travel up at night and down durring the day. Mola's eyesight isn't the best, so they dive durring the day to have better light.

Funny thing is, they don't have swim bladders. How do they move through the changing pressure? Their bone's and flesh just happen to be about the same density as water, so they just hang out wherever they stop swimming.

Another funny thing, Molidae are cold blooded. And the ocean is cold! this limits how long they can dive for. Older, larger adults can dive for much longer than smaller ones. Regardless, when they come up they have to warm up again, which they do by lying parallel and sunning themselves. Which where the Mola mola's common name comes from! Ocean Sunfish!

The larvea don't sun themselves, though, because they are not the same shape as all. Observe the bean!

The larvae try their best to survive, but most of them die. Thats why Molidae adults produce so many eggs---they (read: have evolved to) to essentially cross their fingers and hope some of them survive to adulthood.

Once adults, their survival chances greatly increase for a lot of reasons. One, their skin is mostly tough cartilage, hard to bite through, though sea lions and orcas do try. Then, like said before, they are pretty low in nutritional value. And finally, that I know of, they are open ocean fish. It doesn't always feel like it, but the ocean is very big. It's not often that molidae come across predators.

They do come across reefs fairly often though, and there are some interesting behaviors they exhibit. Like many other fishes, they let cleaner fish clean them. For more pesky parasites, they float at the very surface of the water and let seabirds eat the parasites off their skin.

Speaking of skin, i most recently learned that M. alexandrini changes color, and it can do it quite rapidly. It seems like when they are startled they can make their patterns more bold, a display showing just how large they really are. These patterns remain relatively stable & can be used for identification.

[chevys-bitch-fest]

Lesser known effects of Testosterone:

Just wanted to make a post for all my transmascs out there. I didn't have a great doctor when I started T, and I was very isolated from other queer people. For reference, Ive been on T injections for 9 months, on 25mg weekly (which is a low dose)

Most people know that your clit will grow while you're on T. I wanted to explain it in more depth because there's more to it than just that. Your clit can start growing as early as 2 months on T, and on average it'll grow 2-3 inches after 2 years of HRT. You will probably be able to get a mini erection. And for me personally, I found that the internal part of my clit would swell up when aroused. (Aka it might look like your lips are swolen, this is normal) Its also important to clean under the hood of your clit, because as time goes on it collects sweat/ toilet paper. Ive found the best method is to sit on the toilet, pull back the hood (or foreskin as I like to call it), and run a wet q tip over it. Be gentle because its sensitive af.

Your Vagina may be more dry than usual. If you experience pain durring penitrative sex, try using lube, or spending more time on foreplay. You can also use dialator dildos or take supplements. If pain persists, please talk to a doctor.

Your period probably wont just gracefully come to a stop (i know, I was disappointed too) you might think its gone, then 3 months later its back. I also had a light period that lasted for 3 weeks. As long as you're not experiencing profuse bleeding or extreme pain, its ok to just ride it out. It takes a minute for your body to get used to new hormones.

You're probably going to want to masturbate a lot. Its ok. No shame dude, T hits you hard on that front.

Your breasts will flatten out a bit. I went from a C to a B arround 6 months. Unfortunately they won't dissappear completely, but it sure as hell makes binding easier.

Ass crack hair. Imma just leave it at that.

Well, I hope this was helpful! Im really proud of all my transmascs out there. I know its scary sometimes, but yall are doing great. Also if anybody has trans questions or just wants to talk, my dms are always open! 💜

[sardonic-the-writer]

for you potc sentence starters, maybe “So, can you sail under the command of a pirate, or can you not?“ where reader is an escaping royal who is in disguise on Capt. Jack’s ship and gets discovered and reported? bonus if they’re very headstrong and got toe-to-toe with sparrow

only if you feel like it ofc, thank you for everything you write!

<3

glad you like my stories. i do try to keep people entertained with them

• Runing off from your normal life of rules and regulations had been a no brainer in your opinion

• In the years growing up a member of high society, your family hadn't nessicarily been a bad one. They gave you the basic needs to have a comfortable life, sometimes more, but feelings of detachment lingered in the air durring nights without a kiss on the head goodnight and calls of don't let the bed bugs bight

• Nevertheless, after the age of six you felt more often than not you were left to fend for yourself in an extravagant manor of winding hallways and stone faced servants

• You'd never liked the nobility anyways. So away you went, letting your feet lead the way instead of your head for once

• How you eventually ended up as a stowaway on The Black Pearl of all ships was a mystery to even yourself

• You supposed it started with that fact that you weren't dumb enough to stick around your hometown for long. Your position in the nobility might not be that much of value, but still. When a person with money and a hint of power goes missing, people tend to look for them, hoping for a reward in turn

• Along with traveling outside of town, you were clever enough to get rid of the fresh clothes you normally wore in exchange for the cheapest pair you could find—which turned out to be a simple pair of cotton pants and shirt

• That's how the ship mates later found you. Wedged between two barrels of their rum, softly snoring as the ship rocked back and forth, face scarcely illuminated with the lantern they had taken with them for light

• Gibbs was the first one to say anything

• "We better get th' Cap'n for this one mates. I have a feelin this'll be a bit more excitin than standin at the helm for an hour."

• They waited till they had called Jack down below before letting anyone wake you up—although a few members wanted to in favor of moving you out of the way to pour themselves some more cups of liquor

• Imagine your surprise when you wake up to a strangers face practically a foot from your own, dark eyes sweeping over your face as he places a hand on his chin

• "Huh. Don't remember pickin you up in Tortuga."

• Panic replaces drowsiness as you start to scramble up, but the men surrounding you are quick to draw a variety of weapons—ranging from guns to knives and long swords

• You think you even saw one with a wooden eye holding a slingshot?? Which didn't make any sense, but who were you to judge right now

• Jack's own sword is pointed at your throat, and he tilts his head with a wide smile, showing off a few of this golden teeth

• "Reckon we got another set of hands to help us around here, aye Mister Gibbs?"

• "Aye Captian."

• "How do you feel sailing under the command of a pirate, mate?"

[for-old-tiimes-sake]

Two hearts, one valve

Deux cœurs, une valve

Pumpin' the blood, we were the flood

Qui pompe le sang, nous étions le déluge

We were the body and

Nous étions le corps et

Two lives, one life

Deux vies, une vie

Stickin' it out, lettin' you down

Qui ressort, qui te déçoit

Makin' it right

Qui arrange les choses

Seasons, they will change

Les saisons changeront

Life will make you grow

La vie te fera grandir

Change will make you cry, cry, cry

Les changement te feront pleurer

Everything is temporary

Tout est temporaire

Everything will slide

Tout glissera

Love will never die, die, die

L'amour ne mourra jamais

I know that

Je sais que

Ooh, birds fly in every directions

Les oiseaux volent dans toutes les directions

Ooh, I hope to see you again

J'espère te revoir

Sunsets, sunrises

Des couchers de soleil, des levers de soleils

Livin' the dream, watchin' the leaves

Je vis un rêve, je regarde les feuilles

Changin' the seasons

Qui changent les saisons

Some nights I think of you

Certaines nuits, je pense à toi

Relivin' the past, wishin' it'd last

Je revis le passé, en ayant souhaité qu'il dure

Wishin' and dreamin'

En souhaitant et rêvant

Seasons, they will change

Les saisons changeront

Life will make you grow

La vie te fera grandir

Death can make you hard, hard, hard

La mort peut te rendre dur

Everything is temporary

Tout est temporaire

Everything will slide

Tout glissera

Love will never die, die, die

L'amour ne mourra jamais

I know that

Je sais que

Ooh, birds fly in every directions

Les oiseaux volent dans toutes les directions

Ooh, I hope to see you again

J'espère te revoir

Ooh, birds fly in every directions

Les oiseaux volent dans toutes les directions

Ooh, so fly high, so fly high

Donc vole haut, vole haut

When the moon is lookin' dark

Quand la lune a l'air sombre

Shine that light up for your ground

Illumine le sol de ta lumière

I'm flyin' up to let you see

Je m'envole pour te laisser voir

That the shadow cast is me

Que l'ombre projetée vient de moi

I know that

Je sais que

Ooh, birds fly in every directions

Les oiseaux volent dans toutes les directions

Ooh, I hope to see you again

J'espère te revoir

Ooh, birds fly in every directions

Les oiseaux volent dans toutes les directions

Ooh, so fly high, so fly high

Donc vole haut, vole haut

Ooh, so fly high, so fly high

Donc vole haut, vole haut

Ooh, so fly high, so fly high

Donc vole haut, vole haut

[maximuswolf]

I want to ramble about Vectorman

I want to ramble about Vectorman Ahoy! One of my absolute favorite games, Vectorman, has just been added to Nintendo Switch Online's Expansion Pack and I would like to take this opportunity to talk about how amazing it is here and maybe convince somebody to give it a shot if they haven't already. For many Vectorman is seen as "that really hard Genesis game with the DKC like graphics", only known for it's visuals and for people not being able to get past the early stages. It is a very difficult title, one that requires practice to get far in, but it's arguably not as bad as some of the most notorious NES titles on that front. By playing cautiously and learning what makes each level tick you can slowly master it, a process that can be very satisfying.It helps that those visuals are such a spectacle. The 90s cgi pre rendered models are not only different from other games but genuinely impressive in their own right beyond comparison to DKC or Ballz 3D. The orb based and mechanical designs are totally distinct and every character moves with a fluidity rarely found on a 16 bit platform. Vectorman himself is possibly the most expressive character on the genesis with tons of unique movements. He comes off as effortlessly cool in much the same way as Master Chief but with even less dialogue. His different transformations happen seamlessly in gameplay. The lighting baked into every stage and how it "reflects" on the sprites is stunning to behold. I'd say there are 2d games on cd based consoles that are way less visually impressive. It truly is amazing what they were able to do with the hardware. The variety in locations is also great. A lot of them combine mechanical and natural with more out there colors and background elements including different weather patterns. The only game that looks even remotely like Vectorman is it's own sequel. The electronic soundtrack is also incredible. The game feel, much like and partially dur to the animation, is very fluid. You run, shoot, and platform through stages with a lot of speed but the game rewards precision. You are a big target and most enemies require good aim or multiple shots to take down but you also have rapid fire even with the most basic weapon. You also have a double jump that also doubles as an attack to enemies below you which can sometimes be the key to beating certain bosses and is great for some of the very vertically focused stages. Vectorman may be a big robot but he moves with a lot of grace and momentum and the transformation power ups add variety while increasing the pace even further. There are also a few short gimmick levels where you fight the main boss Warhead in a shift of gameplay style which are confusing at first but quick if you know what you are doing. All of this gives the game a very kinetic flow and smoothness many similar titles lack.I could continue writing this for probably hours going into a lot more detail about the story, contests (Yes multiple), cheat codes, promo material, speedrun strategies, sequel (multipleish), and more but I want to save that for a potential future project. For now though I hope you've enjoyed reading me gush about this game. Submitted November 26, 2024 at 08:09PM by GINTegg64 https://ift.tt/o0QLB18 via /r/gaming

[rk-ocs]

Red and her family

MT (her favorite cousin, a nicknamer)

 I'm thinking she might be of native descent (though whether it's registered is another matter) So she and Red don't look all that similar, and in case I do a willow bark AU it makes sense for her to have inherited characteristics

Well, she's shorter than Red, (reds parents were tall people) like maybe 5'8. She has dark brown hair and light brown eyes. She gets pretty annoyed at people assuming that she's not related to red, because of her skin, which later is echoed with Red being able to act super offended at anyone who doesn't believe Desmond is her cousin or whatever excuse she's giving.

She's well muscled from her training, prefers to wear warmer coloured shirts, contrasting Reds cool coulors.

She has very nice teeth and has previously worn braces.

She doesn't need a prescription, but wears sunglasses often

Her counterpart meanwhile, is 5'9 didn't turn out to need braces because his mouth didn't have extra teeth,  has lighter hair and skin then she does (taking more after mom in most verses), but startlingly dark eyes.

He's not as muscular as his not twin, but he's not in bad shape, and once impersonated her for a prank when he was younger.

He's growing a beard, and his hair long, in an effort to be less mistaken as her (is everyone colour blind mom? Probably)3

---

Red and her mom

--

Yah, Desmond would probably want to flee the blast radius, along with any other unfourtunate people there.

They can come to an agreement, but its super tense.

Its still better then Reds current relationship with her father (almost non exsistant, due to both sides not keeping in much contact for years).

But like

"Ah. Mother. How is Father these days?"

"Well enough. You would know If you came home occasionaly Carnelian"

"I dont go by that. And we both know its not me he would seek out, even if I were there"

"You know I'm not in the habit of useing nicknames, Carnelian. You are going to have to tell him your not dead sometime?"

" I dont see that it would make much of a diffrance to him. Never mind, that I didnt come here for small talk."

"Always looking for something, Carnelian. Well, spit it out"

Their manerisims durring this "chat" are remarkably similar. Though Red has her fathers colouring, you can see the similarities here.

Reds mother taught her (was teaching her) Greek, back in the day. Apparantly for buisness reasons, and that Red might as well learn a diffrent alphabet style while shes young.

She will, at one point in the story, cacth up with MT, and some others in her faimly. Its going to involve a lot of yelling (after all, you wernt actually dead, is a hell of a thing to learn, but at this point Reds used to it)

---

Jasper Twin AU

Jaspers not her twin, so much as an alternate her counterpart. Neverless, I wrote this long ago for their birthday. Which is on December 21st-22 (Desmomd Miles Death day). One of lifes paralles

Twin AU

(for their birthday)

Winter

---

"Get up Jazz"

Cold fingers dug under the blanket, and poked his stomach.

"Nooo" he moaned into his pillow, trying to hold the blankets in place.

The fingers were relentless. Not satisfied with poking him, they began to tickle him.

"You are a terrible person" He told her. "I hope you know that, petite soeur."

She poked him again for that one.

"Alright, alright, I'm up. Do you even sleep? Or are you powered by evil, and no longer need sleep."

"I'm powered by chocolate"

"I accept any and all offerings of chocolate. Except dark."

"Come on. We have to set up, if we want to win fight."

"It's a snowball fight."

"It is as serious as a blood feud. We must give no quarter, to the kids from the west!"

"It's too early for your dramatics!"

"I'll put snow in your bed."

She would. He knew from experience.

Sluggishly, he got up, and went to go see what was for breakfast

---

Family prefrences (sick food)

Red likes tomato soup, and when she's feeling more like solids, she likes grilled cheese with it.

Jasper likes Pea soup, and toast. So does his mom, but she makes dumplings with it. His dad, likes pho.

Monique likes Beef and Barley stew, and homemade buns.

Alyssa likes miso soup.

Rae likes squash, or chowder.

David likes porridge with honey,  his wife asks for, hot and sour soup.

When they are sick, they have Lemon and honey tea. It's family tradition. Some thought Red and Jazes mom would protest, but her parents go to sick tea involved vinegar, and nope, not doing that.

The Ryan siblings and Alyssa, seem to share a preference.

[caramellody]

Ive prepared the needed precautions for tomorrows watch party if i cant make it in time

[queen-scribbles]

Gamble

12. possessive hand-holding [Kayris/Atton]

----

Kayris hadn’t really wanted to return to Nar Shaddaa. It didn’t strike her as a particularly wise move, between the bounty hunter truce being gone and the bounty on Jedi(given there were several on her ship now), it struck her as high risk. But there were parts they needed to fix the hyperdrive--and Bao-Dur’s arm--that were unavailable through more legal means. It was a gamble, but one they needed to make, and part of her knew it.

So she had caved--reluctantly, and only when Atton, Mira, and Bao-Dur had all ganged up to argue for the stop.

“We can’t chase Revan into parts unknown if the Hawk doesn’t even work,” Atton had pointed out.

“Fine,” she’d sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

His expression softened. “It’ll be a quick stop, Ris. ‘Specially now that we have the credits to grease palms an’ expedite things.” He’d taken her hands, given a reassuring squeeze paired with a smirk. “Hell, maybe the bounty hunters’ll be too busy killin’ each other to notice we’re there.”

“We can but hope,” she’d deadpanned, remembering their last visit in vivid detail.

Even once they landed and she, Atton, and Mira were headed down the ramp, civilian-attired rather than Jedi robes to blend in, Kayris had a bad feeling that made it difficult to relax.

“You’re gonna stand out if you’re all twitchy, Ris.” Mira nudged her with an elbow. “I know a guy for the ship parts, always well stocked. Not like we’ll hafta go on a scavenger hunt, and we can even afford to give him a bonus for speed.”

“And what about the parts for Bao-Dur’s arm?” Kayris asked, picking at the hilt of her lightsaber(even if that defeated the point of wearing a duster to conceal it).  “Does he stock those, too?”

“No,” Mira conceded, “but there’s another guy who should-”

“And since I think I know who you’re talkin’ about, I’ll handle that one,” Atton interjected. “Too big a group’ll draw more attention. Kuin, right?”

Mira nodded, looking impressed. “Yep. So we’ll get the ship parts, you’ll get the cybernetic parts, meet up... back here? At the cantina?”

“Back here is better, if we’re trying to make this a short stop, isn’t it?” Kayris said, then smirked teasingly at Atton. “We let him loose in a cantina, it’ll be anything but short.”

“Hey, now,” he protested with a smirk of his own. “It’s not my fault a lot of people are worse at pazaak than alcohol makes them think they are.”

“But it is that you don’t stop,” she countered, arching a brow.

“True,” Atton said with a shrug and laugh.

“So back here it is,” Mira spoke up to keep them on track. They all agreed, then split off to their tasks.

---

Acquiring the ship parts went faster than Kayris--or Mira--expected. Apparently money talked even louder than it used to.

“Maybe you should check if flyboy’s done yet,” Mira suggested, lifting the rucksack of hyperdrive components. “Kuin’s chatty; it’s entirely possible he has yet to extricate himself.”

Kayris snorted a laugh. “And he volunteered for that risk?” She closed her eyes and reached out with the Force, picking through the abundance of life signs for his in particular. Better than pinging his comm if that bad feeling in her gut was there for a reason beyond paranoia. “Yeah, he’s not at the landing pad. I think we need to go rescue him.”

“Lead the way, boss.”

“Me? I don’t know where we’re going,” Kayris pointed out.

“Right. This way.” Mira took the lead, guiding toward the spread of shops between the docks and red light sector. It wasn’t a long walk, but it was a winding one--down a couple of alleys off of alleys. And one of Kayris’ eyebrows arched upon ducking into the small shop, because Kuin was a female Mirialan; very pretty and flirting very hard with Atton.

Who was playing along without really encouraging(not by his standards), but Kuin was either missing the not interested hints or taking them as a challenge.

Let’s make it a little more obvious... Kayris decided as she crossed the shop’s interior to join Atton at the counter, a swirl of... something in her gut. Not jealousy, she trusted him--especially after Malachor. But something affronted the woman wasn’t taking the hint was willing to make a risky move.

“There you are,” she said with a light laugh, slipping her hand into Atton’s and giving a squeeze as she shot Kuin a very polite smile. “I was beginning to worry you fell off an edge or something.”

Atton chuckled in response to the teasing. “No, just chatting.” He linked his fingers between hers and squeezed back. “That was fast.”

“Dol’rek was havin’ a slow day,” Mira spoke up, perusing a row of wire spools with studied detachment. “He was very interested in helping us get what we needed. Hey, Kuin.”

“Mira.” Kuin smiled, the motion crinkling the cybernetics along her cheekbone.  “Was wondering where you got to.”

“You can thank my new friend for that.” Mira waved toward Kayris, who took the cue to introduce herself.

“Kayris. I see you had what we need.” She tipped her head toward the small package in Atton’s other hand. “I have a friend who’ll be very grateful for that, thank you.”

“That’s what I was telling her,” Atton said, leaning his shoulder into hers. “And that I’m glad I didn’t have to go hunting all over the moon to find it.”

“Happy to be of service,” Kuin said, glancing furtively at their joined hands(they both clocked it). A blue light flickered on one of her implants. “Keep me in mind the next time you need somethin’, huh?”

“We will,” Kayris said, “But right now we should be going.”

“Right.” Kuin bit her lip, as she nodded. “Thanks for the business.”

Kayris just nodded and didn’t let go of Atton’s hand as they headed for the door, a grip she noted he also maintained. She internally sighed with relief her gamble had been correct; he didn’t think she was just being clingy.

“Thank you,” he breathed, once the three of them were an alley turn away from the shop and there was no risk of being overheard.

“For what?” Kayris shot him an amused look.

“Getting me out of there-”

Mira cackled. “Forgot how chatty she is, huh?”

“Yeah.” He slipped his hand free and draped his arm around Kayris’ shoulders instead. “Also for not being too weird about how hard she was coming on.”

Kayris shrugged and leaned in against him as they walked. “I figure if a Sith held together by hate and trying his damnedest to kill you couldn’t break us up, a flirty shopkeep wouldn’t either.” She glanced at Mira. “Even if you did say Kuin was a guy-”

“In the catchall sense of providing a service or product regardless of gender,” Mira retorted before she’d even finished teasing. “Never dreamed she’d try to steal your man. She used to have better taste.”

Kayris and Atton sent her matching flat looks, which just made her laugh, before Atton commented, “The hand-holding was a nice touch, saved me from bein’, um--”

“Rude?” Mira supplied. “Boorish?”

“Direct. Not that those haven’t worked for me before....” He shrugged when Mira rolled her eyes. “Hey, I figure having contacts here who don’t hate us might come in handy, ya know?”

“He has a point, Mir,” Kayris chipped in.

“Shocker, you’re siding with him,” Mira said with a laugh.

“Not siding, agreeing. Wary as I might be of stopping here, having some merchants who think well of us isn’t a bad idea.”

“Sure, sure, now can we hurry it up, lovebirds?” She jostled the rucksack slightly. “This is gettin’ heavy.”

“No one’s holding you back, Mir,” Kayris said playfully. “Go ahead, we’re right behind you.”

“You kids behave,” Mira snarked as she settled the rucksack and picked up her pace.

“Yes, Mother,” Kayris and Atton chorused, then grinned at each other. Despite the joking--and rude gesture Mira flashed over her shoulder--the two of them didn’t say much for the rest of the walk.

It wasn’t until they were back aboard the Hawk and a near-tangible weight seemed to lift from her shoulders that Atton flashed Kayris a smirk and tugged her along to the cockpit.

She didn’t need much convincing, though she did lodge a token protest. “I should help-”

“I just need a minute.”

Kayris arched a brow when he sealed the door.

“I don’t need Mira of your fanclub hearin’ me get sappy--wipe that grin off your face, Ris,” he grumbled, rubbing the back of his neck.

She tried to look innocent, but given he could sense her amusement through the Force, it probably wasn’t very convincing. “Sorry. What did you need?”

Atton sighed, raked a hand through his hair. “I meant it, y’know. About appreciating you not being upset that Kuin was flirting. Most women I’ve met wouldn’t have taken it nearly so in-stride.”

“Yes, well...” Kayris took his hands in hers and smiled. “Most women you’ve met aren’t Jedi who can sense you weren’t reciprocating the attention-”

“Oh, right, Jedi are weird,” he deadpanned.

“You’re one now, too, remember.” She ran her thumbs over his knuckles. “And aside from that, I could tell from your body language you weren’t into it-”

“I’ve taught you well,” he drawled.

“Atton, I’m being serious” --the snicker shaking her shoulders undercut the remonstrance-- “and I meant what I said; I trust that you aren’t going anywhere.” Kayris grinned and squeezed his hands. “I know you’re all mine.”

“Long as you’ll put up with me,” Atton joked, but there was a deeper emotion shining in his eyes. 

Her grin widened and she shuffled closer. “That a challenge, Rand?”

He smirked and leaned in until the tips of their noses brushed. “And if it is?”

She kissed him, slipped one hand free to cup the back of his neck and hold him close. I like a challenge.

His chuckle as he kissed her back hinted he’d heard the thought.

So she spent a few more minutes kissing him before she slipped away to help with the repairs. The sooner they could leave the better. For several reasons.

[cinaja]

Before the Wall part 57

Masterlist

A/N: I've decided to use a more omniscient narrator for this chapter to allow me to jump between povs/places. I hope this isn't confusing, I usually don't write omniscient povs.

----

On the first day, the sun rises to a land drenched in blood. Maybe some of the citizens mistake it for the trick of the light at first, the red morning sun reflecting on the water, but soon enough, they realize that this is no illusion.

The news spread through the land like a great weave, bringing panic in its wake. The river running through the Black Land is essential, its water sustaining the life in the region. There are secondary rivers and wells, of course, but those are turned to blood as well. But Fae cannot drink blood, and neither can their cattle. They cannot use blood to water their crops, either.

The humans are not panicking, although the Fae do not notice this (humans are below their notice, and this goes double when they are currently so occupied with themselves). They are giddy with excitement, even though they are trying to hide it. Having been sent to fetch water for their masters, they were the first to notice something was wrong, and in the beginning, they were worried, but it wasn’t long before the first of them found out that the blood turns back to water in their hands.

In the Seraphim army camp, the soldiers are above all confused. It falls to Drakon to explain the situation to them, as Miryam is still resting in their tent, sleeping so deeply she might as well be unconscious. He keeps his explanations short since he does not want to give any spies who might be listening any important information, but he takes care to make it clear that the curse is set to only affect those who have harmed the human residents of the Black Land, so they should remain unharmed.

Later, in a tent with his army commanders, he goes more into detail. The curse is tied, he explains, to the suffering of the humans here, past and present, and it will continue to punish those who caused that suffering until the humans are freed. As long as they aren’t, things will continue to get worse.

After he has finished, his commanders are silent for a moment. Then, Sinna nods slowly. “If anyone disagrees with this approach,” she says, “you are free to return to Erithia. This decision will have no consequences for you, and no one will think you lesser for it.”

Looks are exchanged, some of them wary, others unsure. No one leaves, though.

On the other end of the country, the Alliance council receives the news of what is happening in the Black Land. Andromache smiles darkly, whispering good riddance to Nakia. Most of the Fae frown, muttering amongst themselves. In the end, a missive is sent out to Miryam, asking her to appear before the council and explain herself. It goes ignored.

In her lavish suite of rooms in her palace, Ravenia receives the news that her rivers are now running with blood together with a letter. It is sealed in the Erithian seal and when she opens it, there is only one word written on the paper: Surrender.

----

On the morning of the second day, Ravenia has the two witchers remaining in her service after Artax’s death herd three-hundred-forty-one humans into a witch circle, making it seven times seven times seven people in the circle in total, and orders them to break the curse. The witchers die. The humans die. And in answer, the earth under them rumbles. Cracks form in the land, running through the ground like spiderwebs.

Out of the cracks crawl insects. Lice and fleas and mosquitos. Within an hour, every Fae throughout the land is covered in itching bites. Some try to flee into the water, but the rivers are still running blood and anyone who does dare to go into that doesn’t last long inside.

Before midday, even the last of the Fae have noticed that the humans are miraculously unaffected by the insects.

Drakon spends the day sending out messengers to all the corners of the country. The message they bear is simple: Free your slaves and this will all end. Refuse, harm them, and it will grow worse until your country is reduced to ashes. He prays they will be reasonable.

A few hours later, Ravenia sends out messengers of her own: Every person who chooses to free their slaves and send them to the Erithian army is guilty of treason and will be executed accordingly.

----

On the third day, the livestock begins to grow sick. No one quite knows where it’s coming from. It’s like the grass has suddenly turned poisonous, even if this poison affects only domesticated animals. By now, people are truly beginning to panic. The water being turned to blood is already bad, but most of them still hope it will be turned back to water soon enough. Dead livestock remains dead, though, and it might cause problems for years to come.

Miryam is still in pain from the spell by then, but it is manageable enough that she feels she can probably get up without falling over immediately. Gritting her teeth, she forces herself into a sitting position on her bed and begins to fumble for some proper clothes. Getting dressed takes thrice as long as usual, but she does manage to stand without falling over, which she counts as a victory. (Less fortunate is the fact that her power is still drained.)

Slowly, Miryam pushes the tent’s entrance open. As soon as she steps outside, the entire camp seems to freeze. The soldiers, who went about their activities until a moment ago, stop mid-motion to stare at her. After a heartbeat, they seem to realize what they are doing and quickly look away, most of them returning to their activities with a stiffness that wasn’t there before.

Miryam desperately wants to tell them that they needn’t be nervous about her, but she forces herself to ignore the awkwardness. If they are scared of her, she will not make it better by calling them out on it. At least the humans don’t seem to be wary of her when she visits their camp – they are more excited than anything – and as the day progresses, the Seraphim relax as well.

In Lako, Ravenia’s situation is growing worse by the hour. Not only is her entire body itching dur to these cursed fleas, she is also under more and more pressure from her nobles. They want to see her acting, and ideally not in a way that sets of a plague of insects all over their country. The last thing Ravenia wants is to show any weakness to Miryam, but right now, another meeting seems inevitable, if only to convince her people that she isn’t just sitting around doing nothing. If it was up to her, she would simply attack the army camped before her city, but her own army is still several days away, and besides, her people don’t seem all too eager to provoke the person who is currently holding their water reserves hostage. So Ravenia grinds her teeth and sends a letter to Miryam, asking for a meeting.

When Miryam receives the letter half an hour later, she frowns and shakes her head. “I’m not going,” she says. “Negotiations? None of my demands are up to negotiations, and anyways, she isn’t in a position to negotiate.”

Of course, if Miryam doesn’t go, Ravenia might use it to pretend that there is no peace because Miryam refuses negotiations. On the other hand, if she does go, Ravenia will just as easily be able to pretend that it was Miryam who caused negotiations to fail, since they would be meeting in private this time, away from the palace and any spying eyes. Either way is a mess, and so Miryam will pick the more pleasant option, which is not going.

“I’ll go,” Drakon says, and when Miryam turns around to frown at him, he shrugs. “I know she likely doesn’t mean this offer, but if there’s any way to resolve this without bloodshed, I think we should take it.”

Miryam nods. She doesn’t exactly agree – mainly because she really does not think Ravenia will listen to reason before she is on the brink of dying of thirst – but she can understand why Drakon feels the need to try. She feels bad enough about the idea of him facing Ravenia alone that she almost offers to come along, though. But Drakon didn’t ask her to, and since she doesn’t want to look like she doesn’t trust him to handle Ravenia on his own, she stays silent.

Two hours later, Drakon sets out for the meeting with Ravenia. He is nervous, but not as nervous as he was during earlier meetings. He doesn’t think the meeting is a trap, and apart from that, there’s little Ravenia can do to him anymore.

They meet by the side of the Klei river. It is a strange meeting place, lacking all the splendour and grandeur of the palaces that hosted all their previous meetings. To Drakon, Ravenia looks entirely out of place here. He can only imagine her in palaces, surrounded by servants, guards and courtiers. Not standing alone in the blood-stained earth, no companions to be seen.

“I was expecting your wife,” Ravenia says by way of greeting.

She is wearing a long, loose silk dress and her usual golden jewellery, but even her expensive clothes cannot hide the stings covering her entire body. Somehow, she also seems smaller than usual, far less imposing.

In her palace, she always manages to make herself seem more-than-Fae, invincible and untouchable. Out here, with the red river only feet away, though, it is obvious that she is just a person who happened to be born into power.

“Miryam is otherwise occupied,” Drakon says. His voice is even, and he is surprised to find that he isn’t terrified. For once, Ravenia’s mere presence isn’t enough to make him want to cower.

“And what would I have to discuss with you?” Ravenia asks.

“You called this meeting,” Drakon says. “I’d assume you would know why you did it.”

Ravenia lets out a long-suffering sigh. “I called the meeting to convince my country’s nobility that I am doing something to solve this unpleasant curse business. If you had any understanding at all of how politics work, you would know that.”

The jab fails to hit its mark. Not long ago, it would have stung, but right now, Drakon doesn’t even understand why he ever let her words hurt him. She is a tyrant, a monster and slave owner. Cauldron, why does he care what she thinks of his competence as a ruler? If anything, he should take it as a complement if she thinks him a bad ruler.

“You ought to surrender,” he says. “No one died yet, but if you continue to refuse, people will die. Your people. End this now, before any lasting damage is done.”

He doesn’t even understand how there can be any debate for Ravenia, how she can so casually risk her peoples’ lives over an already-lost battle.

“I have no intention of surrendering to you,” Ravenia replies evenly.

“What other choice do you have?” He shakes his head. “You’ve lost. Do you truly want to wait until hundreds, thousands of your people have died before you will finally admit it? Would that satisfy your pride?”

“If you’re so concerned about my peoples’ lives, you should not have set off that curse. Make no mistake, Your Highness – any deaths that will happen in this will be on you and your wife.” She laughs. “Or maybe only your wife, since I doubt she even discussed it with you first. It must be such a relief for you to finally have handed over your country to someone else.”

Drakon stares at her, lightly shaking his head. How did he ever allow himself to be this terrified of her? She is just a person. Someone with power, yes, but a large part of her power also comes from other people allowing her to have power over them. And right now, in their current situation, she has no power at all if Drakon doesn’t play along with her games.

“I don’t need to listen to this,” he says, nearly smiles at the surprise on her face. “I’m just here because I wanted to see if there was a way to avoid unnecessary deaths. It seems there isn’t, so I’m leaving. If you change your mind, send a letter.”

He winnows away without giving her the chance to reply. The meeting might not have led anywhere, he might not have managed to convince Ravenia of a peaceful solution, but still, this feels like a victory, if a smaller and more personal one.

----

On the fourth day, people begin to grow sick. It’s like the sand has turned to acid – wherever it touches them, it leaves boils and burns. None of it is life-threatening, but it is certainly painful.

The council sends another missive to Miryam, demands that she is to explain herself growing more urgent. She writes back this time, a short, polite refusal. The last thing she needs right now is the council meddling in her decisions.

According to her estimations, the surrender should arrive within the day. Fae can go five days without water. They are on the fourth day and by now, even Ravenia should have realized that there will be no breaking this curse. Theoretically, she has until tomorrow, but it would be smarter to surrender now, when her people aren’t yet on the brink of dying from thirst and she still stands a chance of making her position seem less desperate.

No royal messenger arrives, though. Miryam spends most of the day walking around the camp, trying to hold casual conversations with people. The Seraphims’ nervousness around her has eased somewhat, as they seem to have realized that Miryam cursing a country does not mean that she will be acting any differently towards them.

A delegation from Lako arrives at dusk. Miryam’s heart leaps, but then, she sees that these people don’t come bearing Ravenia’s coat of arms. Their expensive clothes mark them as nobles, and indeed Miryam recognizes a few of them, but they were not sent by Ravenia.

The leader is a woman dressed in a long, purple gown. It is cut longer than is fashion, with a high neckline and long sleeves, but even those don’t entirely manage to conceal the boils and stings all over her body. After a moment’s hesitation, Miryam recognizes her as Lady Seliah, one of the higher-ranking nobles in the city. She bows before Miryam, which comes as a surprise.

“Your Highness,” she says, then bows before Drakon who appeared next to Miryam. “Your Highness.”

“Lady Seliah,” Miryam replies, watching surprise flicker over the other woman’s face. Of course, she wouldn’t remember that they have met before. “To what do I owe this visit?”

“We have come to ask, no, to beg you to end this curse.” Seliah keeps her eyes lowered as she speaks. “We will gladly meet your demands – “

“Will you?” Miryam cuts her off, although she keeps her tone pleasant. “Because I think I made my demands quite clear, and still, I have not yet received news of you freeing your slaves.”

Seliah squirms. “Queen Ravenia has forbidden us from releasing them. We would gladly meet your terms, but there is no way for us to do so without risking our lives.”

“Given how easily you accepted my peoples’ suffering – and, in fact, accept the risk to their lives right now – you’ll understand if I find myself struggling to sympathize,” Miryam replies. What is it with these Fae always thinking that no matter what atrocities they commit, they will come out unharmed? Do they expect Miryam to be moved by them suddenly feeling threatened by the very ruler they supported all these years?

“I’m not asking in my name, but in the name of the innocent people who are suffering,” Seliah says.

A noble dressed in fine silks as a champion for the common people. Well, that is certainly something new. If this was the route they wanted to go, you’d think they would have been smart enough to at least send someone who isn’t noble.”

“And it’s the innocents in this country I am thinking of when I refuse,” Miryam replies, deliberately twisting her words. After all, which Fae here is truly innocent? She shakes her head. “If Ravenia is your problem, I suggest you deal with it. And quickly, since I believe you might be running out of water soon.”

If Seliah is angry, she hides it well. She merely bows her head, thanks Miryam for her time and returns to the city.

By sunset, her and the other nobles who accompanied her are dead, their bodies hanging from the walls of Lako, a message to anyone else in the city who might consider going behind Ravenia’s back to negotiate with the enemy.

----

By the fifth day, the earth has taken to trembling slightly every couple of minutes. That’s not the worst of it, though. When the sun rises, it is quickly obscured by a buzzing cloud of insects. Locusts, who descend upon the fields, bushes and trees with a vengeance. Within hours, they have devoured any leaves they managed to get a hold on, destroying this year’s harvest within hours. People are panicking.

And still, there is no word from Ravenia.

This is not what Miryam planned. Ravenia ought to have surrendered by now. She needs to surrender – without any water supply, she has no other choice. Yet five days are almost over. By now, people must be dying of thirst, and still, Ravenia hasn’t sent word.

Miryam wanders through the camp, restless. Something is going wrong, but she doesn’t know what. She supposes it’s possible that Ravenia has people winnowing water in, but they could never bring enough for the entire population. And surely Ravenia wouldn’t sacrifice thousands of her people, right? (Killing thousands of people was never part of Miryam’s plan. She knew there might be casualties, yes, and she willingly accepted it. She did not anticipate that everyone might die, though.)

She figures out what went wrong a few hours before sunset, when a stack of barrels in the centre of the camp she passes for the fifth time that evening catches her attention. She stops one of the soldiers rushing past.

Nodding towards the barrels, she asks, “What’s in those?”

“It’s mostly water, Your Highness,” he replies. “It is customary to keep some storages in case the river gets poisoned.”

Miryam nods slowly, horror dawning on her at the realization and growing worse as she looks into one of the barrels. The water in those barrels is still water. Every river, every will and spring in the entire Black Land is running blood, but a curse on the land apparently does not affect water that is being stored in canisters and barrels. Most of the Black Land relies on water from the river, yes, but the cities would still have some storages, or at least some other beverages like wine, to last them for a few days.

This is all wrong.

Some part of Miryam is glad that at least she didn’t just cause hundreds of thousands of people to die from thirst, but at the same time… It wasn’t supposed to go like this.

It’s the same thing she tells Drakon, ten minutes later in their tent, after having explained to him and Sinna what happened.

“This isn’t how it was meant to happen,” she whispers, more to herself than to anyone else. “They should have been surrendering by now. Fae can’t go for more than five days without water – they would have had to surrender.”

This was the plan. Take away their water and make them uncomfortable. Scare them, force them into a surrender. This was the plan. No one would even have needed to die if only they had been reasonable.

Drakon’s face is dark. “Will Ravenia distribute her water supplies?” He asks.

Miryam flinches. She hadn’t even considered that angle yet. “I don’t know,” she says.

Ravenia will want to keep enough water for herself and her nobles, that much is certain. But at the same time, she will need to appease her subject somehow if she doesn’t want to risk riots.

“To the nobles for sure,” she says after a moment’s hesitation. “Probably also some citizens. But the poorer ones, those who aren’t living in the city…” She shrugs and shakes her head at the same time.

This isn’t how she meant it to happen. The people who will die will still be slave owners, still criminals, but… It wasn’t the lower classes she meant to hit with this. And she knew people would likely die, both from her curse and the consequences that might follow, but she had thought the deaths would be few and far between.

Now, they likely won’t be.

“Alright, then,” Sinna says, crossing her arms. “What will that curse of yours do next?”

“I don’t know,” Miryam says, voice small. She didn’t plan this far, didn’t think it would get this far. (Didn’t really care, if she is being entirely honest.) “This is complicated magic, and I only really planned it out for five days.” Because after five days, every Fae here was supposed to be on the brink of dying from thirst. “The curse is set in a way that will make it get worse, but how…” She shrugs. “I’m sorry, but I can’t tell.”

Sinna is silent for a moment. Then, she says slowly, “So you set a curse on an entire country without knowing what it will do should it go on for longer than you planned.” She shakes her head and cuts a glare at Drakon. “Both of you. And you didn’t think that might turn into a problem?” When neither of them reply, she sighs. “Wonderful.”

Miryam stares down at her feet and doesn’t say that she would do it all again for a chance to save her people.

----

On the sixth day, the sun doesn’t rise. Or maybe it does, but its light certainly doesn’t reach the Black Land. Throughout the country, torches are being lit, but even their light barely manages to pierce the darkness that has fallen. It is a darkness that can be felt, thick and heavy like ink.

Once again, the humans get away easily. To them, the darkness feels soothing and while they can’t see anywhere near as good as in light, they can still easily make out shapes.

Many of them decide to use the opportunity while it is there. Their masters cannot see in the darkness – they can. In thousands, humans flee from the cities, vanish from houses and fields and make for the centre of the country where they have heard they will find safety.

In one of the cities to the west, the Fae leadership decides enough is enough. They will not be humiliated by a mortal like this, and they will not allow their slaves to get away unscathed, to laugh at their misery and celebrate their own victory. They will show to that mortal girl who thinks she can force their hand and attack their country, show to every mortal worm what happens when they try to cross the Fae.

They give out the order to have every human in the city brought to the marketplace and killed.

The news spread through the city like wildfire. The humans clutter together, hold on tight to each other and prepare for the end. Most of the Fae stand tightly together as well – but where the humans are silent, they are whispering, arguing. By that time, it is common knowledge that this curse is punishment for slavery, for harming humans. It is also common knowledge that Miryam’s policy for people who murder humans is simple: Execution. In other words, killing a whole group of humans does not seem to be the smartest course of action in this situation.

The large majority of the Fae in the Black Land, the Fae in this city, doesn’t care at all about human lives. They do, however, care a whole lot about their own lives. And right now, they are quickly discovering that they aren’t ready to die so that their leaders can get a brief moment of empty defiance against the people invading their country – especially when those invaders have already promised to be lenient if their demands are met.

Within a few hours, leadership over the city has quietly changed hands. The city council has been, for the time being, locked into the dungeons. After quite some arguments and even more grumbling, the humans are allowed to leave the slave quarters and instead given proper rooms in the Fae’s houses. No one is quite fond of that arrangement, but well, the curse is said to be tied to human suffering, and since no one is quite sure what counts as suffering, being extra careful seems only sensible.

Of course, the story of what happened there does not stay confined to one city. Within hours, all of the neighbouring towns have heard and many of them quietly decide to follow their example. That there is no immediate reaction from Ravenia only makes people grow bolder.

A meeting is called and held that night, with a good half of the Black Land’s city leadership in attendance. After a few hours of arguing, they come to the conclusion that there is only one sensible course of action right now: To fulfil Miryam’s demands even if Ravenia refuses to, and hope that will be enough to keep them safe. They are all aware that Ravenia would have their heads for this decision, but they have long reached the point where a soon-to-be-dead queen is far, far less daunting than what might happen if they refuse Miryam’s demands for any longer.

Throughout the country, Fae are beginning to die of thirst by now. Some are lucky enough to have found water, and the children, as it turns out, can still drink from the rivers and wells, but the death toll still climbs quickly, reaching and surpassing one thousand before midday. Everyone who survives is hungry and miserable and, by now, ready to do just about anything to end this curse. Still, though, Ravenia does not surrender.

----

On the seventh day, a thunderstorm breaks out. Lighting flashes through the sky, piercing the darkness that is still reining in the country for seconds at a time. Thunder roars, and hail falls to the ground in giant chunks, destroying fields and injuring or killing anyone who is stupid enough to be outside. (Notably, it doesn’t hit a single human although some of them have been sent outside to bring in any surviving livestock.)

Throughout the country, cities and villages are beginning to free their slaves and send them on their way towards the capital. Groups of thousands form, slowly marching through the storm.

On the other side of the Continent, the council is horrified. At least that’s what the Fae members keep repeating, even though most of them are honestly more horrified by the idea of what Miryam being able to completely wreck a country within a few days might mean for them than by the moral issue of sending giant chunks of ice raining down on a country. Meanwhile, Andromache is just about ready to punch the next person to talk about how horrifying Miryam’s actions are, especially when these are the people who, through years and centuries past, were never once been horrified by the crimes committed against humans.

She does not see the undercurrent moving through the Alliance, just below the surface of civility and righteous outrage. She does not notice the looks that are being exchanged while the human councilmembers are no looking, the meetings that are held, in secret and behind closed doors. Zeku notices, though, and he watches the events unfold in silence. He could stop it still, he supposes, or at least try to alert someone to it. But he has his own people to think of, and he cannot throw their lives away over a lost cause. Besides, it’s not like he didn’t try to warn Miryam, time and again. No one can blame him that she never listened.

The seventh day is also the day when Mor finally loses her patience. She has been watching in silence so far, horror growing with each day, unable to comprehend what she is seeing. In the beginning, she tried to tell herself that Miryam wasn’t harming anyone, that she was just trying to pressure the Fae into doing her bidding, but now, people are dying and Miryam still shows no sign of stopping.

She doesn’t understand. Cannot wrap her mind around how Miryam – Miryam who values kindness and hates unnecessary cruelty – can do this.

Mor has come to the decision that she will make her see reason. This needs to end, now, and somehow, Mor will convince Miryam. She steps out of her tent where she was hiding from the thunderstorm outside and begins to search the camp for Miryam.

The Fae camp is emptier than usual. It seems that even with the storm not affecting them, most of the soldiers prefer to hide in their tents. The humans are out and about, though, sitting about campfires and talking. Some of them must have dragged some of the smaller balls of hail over, and now, children are gathered around as some of the adult divide up the ice between them. They seem to be enjoying themselves. And well, why shouldn’t they? After all, none of the curses ever affect them.

It is that precision, more than anything else, that scares more. Because a spell this precise is no accident, no result of a moment’s desperation. It is calculated, and that makes it worse.

She finds Miryam on the second round through the camp, as she is just about to enter her tent. Drakon and Sinna are with her. Mor hurries over to join them.

“You need to end this,” she says by way of greeting. This was not how she meant to approach the topic, but damnit, there are chunks of ice that are bigger than her raining from the sky.

Sinna arches an eyebrow. “Hello to you, too, Mor,” she says. “Pleasure meeting you.”

Mor ignores her and instead turns to Miryam. “You need to end this,” she repeats. “Before any more people die. Miryam, please, so many people are already dead, it can’t go on like this.”

Miryam sighs. “And what other choice do I have?” She sounds so tired. Looks tired, too. Mor didn’t notice the last few days, but she looks like she hasn’t slept at all since she cast the spell. “If I were to end this now – which I can’t, by the way – what do you think would happen? This is the only protection my people have, Mor.”

On another day, Miryam’s words might have gotten through to Mor. Today, though, she doesn’t even notice the implications of Miryam saying that she can’t undo the curse, she is far too caught up in her horror and confusion about how Miryam can stand there and defend what is happening.

She shakes her head. “No,” she whispers. “This goes too far, Miryam.” Miryam doesn’t reply and Mor gestures wildly to the sky. “Have you looked outside lately? There are human-sized chunks of ice falling from the sky. You can’t just destroy an entire country for revenge!”

Miryam’s face hardens. “You think I’m doing this for revenge?” She asks.

Yes, Mor does think that. At least partially. If it wasn’t out of revenge, no one would ever do this. Certainly not Miryam, who hates hurting people.

“Does it matter?” She shoots back, voice rising. Heads are beginning to turn in their direction. “There is no reason good enough to justify this! You are killing thousands of innocents!”

“Funny, because I thought I was saving the innocents, and the people who are dying were all slave owners,” Miryam snaps, although she keeps her voice hushed. Then, she shakes her head and her posture relaxes slightly. “Besides, there’s no point in having this argument. I cannot stop this curse – it’s set to continue until the Black Land frees its slaves.”

Mor shakes her head, a chill running down her spine. Miryam couldn’t have… She wouldn’t have… She would never have set a spell to destroy a country without leaving a backdoor to stop it.

“And what if Ravenia doesn’t surrender?” She asks. She wants to take Miryam by the shoulders and shake her until she understands, but from the way Sinna is currently looking at her, she probably wouldn’t get away with that. “What then, Miryam?”

Now, finally, Miryam lowers her eyes. So she does feel bad after all. But it is clear that she still doesn’t regret what she did. To her, this seems more like this is an unfortunate side effect, something she doesn’t like to consider but still willingly accepted to get what she wants.

“Then I imagine the next Loyalist country will think twice before refusing to surrender,” Sinna answers for Miryam. “And now lower your voice. You’re making a scene.”

Mor stares at her like she’s seeing her for the first time. Then, she turns around to Drakon, who has been watching in silence until now. He has to agree with her. Surely he cannot like this any more than she does.

“Drakon,” she says, almost pleading, “you cannot agree with this. Tell me you don’t think this is right.”

But Drakon, Cauldron damn him, merely shakes his head. “Five hundred thousand people, Mor,” he says softly. “We are talking about five hundred thousand people who will all be murdered if Ravenia gets her way.”

Mor gapes at him, unable to believe that he is taking Miryam’s side on this. If there is one person who she was sure would disagree with this, it was Drakon. But well, Miryam is his mate. Maybe she should have expected that he would back her up in anything, no matter what.

She turns back to Miryam. “There are lines!” She snaps. By now, people are beginning to stop and stare, but Mor doesn’t care. “Lines you can’t cross, no matter what! And murdering thousands of civilians is one of those lines!”

“And what would you have me do instead?” Miryam asks. She doesn’t sound angry, just tired. Somehow, that makes it worse. If she was angry, Mor could at least tell herself that this was a spontaneous decision made out of anger or fear, not a calculated plan. “Do nothing and allow them all to be murdered rather than jeopardize my moral integrity? Would that make me a good person in your eyes?”

Mor opens her mouth – and closes it again when she realizes she doesn’t have a reply. The way Miryam puts it, there is no possible reply she can give. She doesn’t know how to explain that this simply isn’t right, and she’s too angry, too desperate to be particularly eloquent anymore. How did she come to be standing here, arguing with Miryam about whether it is okay for her to take an entire country hostage or not?

Miryam sighs and takes a step towards Mor. “You think I like this any more than you do?” She asks. “Believe me, if there was any other way, I would have gladly taken it.”

Mor takes a step backwards. “Yeah, well, I’m sure Ravenia thought she was justified in destroying Erithia as well,” she snaps.

The tension that takes over the room is almost physical. It’s like everyone tenses at once, like the temperature drops by a few degrees. Sinna takes half a step towards Mor, hand clenched to a fist. Drakon grabs her by the arm and stops her before she can get any further.

“That was a sorry comparison, Mor,” he says softly.

“Oh, yes, my comparison is a problem but Miryam casually killing thousands of people is perfectly fine,” Mor snaps.

She is vaguely aware that she should probably take her comment back, apologize. But she is far too angry and she still doesn’t understand.

“I apologize,” Miryam finally says. Her voice is icy, her face carefully blank. “I assumed I made it clear enough what the goal of this campaign would be, and what I was ready to do to achieve it. I wouldn’t want to make you participate in anything you are uncomfortable with, so if you truly feel this way, you are, of course, free to leave.”

“I certainly don’t need your permission for this,” Mor replies, voice equally sharp. “You go commit all the crimes you feel like, but I want no part in that.”

With that, she spins around and pushes through the newly-assembled crowd of onlookers towards the edge of the camp. She winnows away as soon as she reaches the edge of the wards.

Miryam remains standing in front of her tent, staring at the spot where Mor was standing until a moment ago. Then, she slowly looks up at the soldiers who are standing around, staring. She hopes they didn’t hear everything that happened.

“We should probably go inside,” she mutters, pain twisting in her chest. She tries very, very hard not to think about what Mor said, or about the fact that this might just have been the end of their friendship. (Not necessarily, she tries to tell herself. People argue all the time and usually, they find a way to fix their relationships afterwards.)

As soon as they are inside, she slumps down on one of the cushions lying on the ground. She pulls her knees up to her chin and stares down at the ground. Drakon sits down next to her. Hesitantly, he reaches a hand for her, letting it hover inches away from her arm, until Miryam leans against him.

“Well, that was nasty,” Sinna says.

Drakon nods, face tight.

“I don’t want all these people to die,” Miryam says. “Of course I don’t, I just…” She shakes her head, fumbling for words.

She understands Mor’s anger, doesn’t blame her for it, and yet… She never made a secret of it, did she? Time and time again, she said that she would do whatever it takes to free her people. She always, always made it known that she would do anything, cross every line if it meant her people could walk free. So why is Mor surprised now?

The problem, she thinks, is that people use the words “whatever it takes” too casually. It’s just like with the word “hate” – people use it so often, so easily, that it loses its original meaning. When people promise “I will do whatever it takes”, they usually mean “I will try really hard”. There’s always some kind of line, though, something they won’t be able to do. They mean “I will go until a certain point, and if I haven’t reached my goal by then, well, no one can really blame me, right?”

And Miryam doesn’t have a problem with that mindset. People should have lines. It is deeply concerning when they don’t. She doesn’t blame Mor for disagreeing with her methods or not going any further, either. But it’s not like Miryam wasn’t honest.

Besides, lines or no lines, surely what Miryam is doing isn’t that horrible? It is terrible, sure, but Mor seems to be forgetting that the only people who are affected, the only people who die, are slave owners who, through seven years of war, refused to stop owning people as property. It’s not that Miryam wants every slave owner to die, she doesn’t even want these people to die, but they are hardly innocents. Each and every one of them has the choice to free their slaves and convince others to do the same. If they don’t, why would Miryam coddle them, these Fae who committed so many crimes against her people?  Why is it that they get to commit atrocity after atrocity and still be considered innocent bystanders in this conflict?

“I don’t know what she expects of me,” she says out loud, jumping to her feet. She promised herself that she wouldn’t be angry with anyone for being horrified at what she is doing, but right now, she just can’t help it. “That I act perfect about everything? How am I supposed to free a single human if Ravenia can have each and every one of them murdered at will, but I am apparently a monster if I so much as kill a few slave owners?”

Drakon rises as well and puts a hand on her arm. “Mor was just upset,” he says. “I’m sure she didn’t mean it.”

Miryam is far less sure of that. For whatever reason, Mor cannot accept what she is doing and she highly doubts that will change.

“It’s a matter of visibility, I think,” Sinna says. “Wars usually kill far more civilians than this, but what you are doing is very flashy. Besides, those deaths are usually presented as accidents – even if they aren’t – while you appear to be attacking civilians on purpose.”

“Well, those civilians are slave owners and I’m trying to get them free the slaves,” Miryam says drily.

“I’m not saying you are wrong. I’m saying people will be more easily horrified by this because it is so visible.” Sinna shrugs. “It doesn’t make sense. I mean, this entire war killed far more civilians than what you are doing now, yet no one ever blamed you for starting it.”

Miryam freezes, staring over at Sinna. Some part of her realizes that she meant well, but… it’s bad enough to think about the thousand-or-so people who died in the last few days. She really did not need to be reminded that technically, every person who died in the entire war is her fault.

This is all too much. Why must everything always be her responsibility? All these hundreds of thousands of lives… no single person should be responsible for so much. It’s always her needing to make these choices, and while she thinks she is right, she really doesn’t have a way of knowing and this is just too much to handle.

She needs to get away.

“You’ll excuse me,” Miryam says, jumping to her feet. She pushes the tent’s entrance aside and rushes out of the tent.

The moment she steps outside, she realizes that this was a mistake. Soldiers pause to stare at her, their gazes almost a physical weight. Momentum carrying her forward, Miryam keeps walking.

Before she has made it more than two steps, Drakon catches up with her. He must have moved inhumanely fast, because he manages to be by her side quickly enough to make it seem like he was walking out with her all along.

“Sorry,” Drakon says as their guards fall into place behind them. “Sinna was trying to be comforting.”

Miryam nods. “I’m not angry,” she says, and she really isn’t. There’s just a wave crashing down around her and she can feel herself drowning and she needs to get out. “I just need a moment alone.”

She can feel Drakon’s hesitation, and his worry. But she isn’t trying to shut him out, really. She just… well. Sometimes, for some things, she needs time alone. And right now, she desperately needs to be alone, and out of this camp, away from watching eyes.

“Can we talk later?” She asks.

Drakon nods. “Sure. I have a meeting, anyways. I should probably go.” He squeezes her hand. “See you later.”

Miryam nods, manages a smile and hurries off. As soon as she leaves the tent, though, she realizes that being alone is an illusion. A group of five guards is trailing her. In the camp, that might have been easy to ignore, but as soon as she leaves it, it becomes painfully obvious that she is being followed.

Still, she does her best to ignore it, but it is simply impossible. For all that these guards are trying to be inconspicuous, Miryam knows they are there. And as long as they are there, she needs to keep up appearances when all she really needs is some time alone with her feelings to sort through them without constantly being under inspection from others. And she trusts her guards, she does, but there is always the chance that someone might be a spy. Or even without ill intent, they might just end up talking in the camp about how their Princess is losing control, and that would be bad enough.

Her hands begin to shake and she can feel a sob building somewhere in her chest. Somewhere close by, a chunk of ice hits the ground, sand spraying to all sides. Miryam abruptly stops walking and turns around to her guards.

“I would like to be alone for a bit,” she says. “Would you please wait here?”

Her guards exchange looks. “Forgive me, Your Highness, but we can’t… I mean…” He hesitates, looking down at his toes.

“A few minutes alone can’t be too much to ask, can they?” Miryam snaps.

Her guards flinch, and Miryam immediately feels bad. Now she is being an ass to the people whose job it is to protect her. Of course they can’t let her out of sight in the middle of a war, in enemy territory. But she really, really needs to be alone right now, preferably before her control fractures entirely.

Miryam takes a deep breath, trying to fight her rising panic, and looks around. There is a ruin peeking out of the sand in the distance. Not much of it is visible, but it might provide some cover.

“I’ll go over there,” she says and points. “And you stay here. That way, you’ll be able to keep an eye on me and I get some time alone.”

Still, Kalirin, the head of her guards, doesn’t seem entirely convinced. “Your Highness…”

Miryam sighs. “If anything happens, I’ll scream. Until then, you stay here.”

With that, she turns around and walks towards the ruin. The sand crunches under her feet and gets stuck between her toes. The camp itself is closer to the river, where the sand gives way to fertile earth and soft grass, but here, she is standing in an ocean of sand. The ruin pokes out of it like a shipwreck, half-buried and destroyed.

The sandstone the building was made of is withered by the centuries, but Miryam finds an entrance. She has to shove a bit of sand aside, but then, there is enough space for her to squeeze through.

As soon as she is safely hidden from sight, her composure cracks. A sob breaks out of her, an ugly, harsh sound, and then she is on her knees, sobbing. She curls up in the tiny space she made for herself and lets the tears flow.

Eventually, the tears stop. Miryam pushes herself up on her elbows and immediately bangs her head on the ceiling. “Ow,” she mutters and leans her back against the wall. She is trembling slightly and her face is probably swollen from all the crying.

She doesn’t want to go back. If she just stays here, she will never have to face the consequences of what she did. (It isn’t realistic, of course, but just for the moment, it’s nice to imagine.) She tilts her head backwards and stares up at the ceiling.

There are figures carved into it. That in itself isn’t unusual – murals and carvings are popular here – and Miryam is about to turn away when she hesitates. Having lived in the palace in Lako for years, she is familiar with the art the Black Land Fae favour as well as the major historic styles. This style is unfamiliar to her, though.

On any other day, Miryam would have dismissed it, but right now, she jumps at the chance to distract herself. (If she is thinking about these carvings, she isn’t thinking about her argument with Mor, after all.) It is too dark in here for her to make out much of the details, so she begins to shove more sand away from the entrance.

It takes a while, but eventually, Miryam has shoved away enough sand that it’s no darker inside the building than outside. (Which means pitch-black in both cases, but this darkness, Miryam can see through with little difficulty.) Now, with more light, it becomes increasingly clear that these carvings are old, far older than Miryam first thought. She twists around a bit to get a better look, brushes some dust away until she can make out one of the carvings, depicting a woman with a spear raised over her head. Her hair is tied back into hundreds of tiny braids, revealing rounded ears.

The woman in the carving is human.

Miryam’s heart leaps. She stares at the carving for a moment, then begins to hectically push away the sand from the rest of them. A group of people sitting around a table. A woman bathing in a river. People celebrating on a barge, a sunset in the background. There are more carvings in the back, but here, the passage gets too narrow for Miryam to squeeze through and there is too little light to make out the carvings.

Every single person in the carvings she found is human, though. And the Fae of the Black Land never depict humans in any way, deeming them too unimportant to commit and effort into creating drawings or carvings of them. Which means…

It means that these carvings were made by humans. Sometime, likely millennia ago, humans built this building and carved scenes from their lives into the walls.

It means that Ghost was right. Long ago, so long it has been forgotten by the world, there were free humans in this land. Maybe one of the women in the carvings is even the queen he talked about, Rashida. This land belonged to them, they spent their lives here in freedom, and they left traces of it in the walls.

Oh, how she wishes Jurian was here to see this.

Miryam runs her hands over the carvings like that will bring the scenes to life, summon some faint echo of the people who once carved these scenes. She so desperately wishes she could imagine what it was like, but she can’t even truly imagine the Black Land under human rule.

In another world, one where the Fae never took this country away from her ancestors, she might have been born free. She might have lived a happy life, never needing to know war and suffering. She might have loved this country as fiercely as she now hates it, loved it as the humans who made these carvings surely did.

In this world, though, Miryam cannot bring herself to feel any sense of positive connection to this land, no matter its history. This will never be here home. But if she succeeds, then perhaps in a few years, other humans will feel differently. If part of the Black Land goes to the humans, there will be human children born in this country who must never know slavery, who will love this land as a home. They will have everything Miryam didn’t, everything humans in the past had.

And if she needs to burn this country to the ground to get there, then so be it.

----

On the eighth day, the sky starts raining fire. It falls from the sky in huge balls, trailing tails of light behind themselves like comets. Maybe the first Fae to see them in the dark mistook them for shooting stars, or marvelled at their beauty. Maybe some even thought the sudden light in the sky might signal an end to this horrible curse.

They soon learn better.

Where the ice was devastating, the fire is worse. It slams through houses, through wood and stone as if it where paper and sets everything in its wake on fire. Soon enough, the darkness that is still reining throughout the country is replaced by the flickering, orange glow of flames devouring anything in their paths. Throughout the villages and cities, Fae are rushing around, trying desperately to put out the fires, forced to resort to blood from the river instead of water. It isn’t enough, though. Even the fire magic so many of the High Fae here have doesn’t manage to keep the flames at bay.

Miryam watches the flames from afar. The human and Seraphim camp is still dark around her, untouched by the flames, but she can make out Lako in the distance, a glowing orb orange light. She wonders if Ravenia is there, wonders how she feels to see her city go up in flames around her. For a brief moment, she wishes she could see the look on her face.

The triumph that flickers through her at the thought is short-lived. For the most part, she feels terrible. If she is being entirely honest, though, terrible is all she allows herself to feel. If she only feels bad enough about herself, maybe the guilt and horror will be able to drown out the part of her that rejoices at the sight of the city she hated so much in flames, these people who caused her and her people so much pain finally paying for it, Ravenia’s kingdom that was built on human blood crumbling around her.

Miryam could have lived, she thinks, without knowing that she is capable of watching a country burn, knowing that this will cost thousands of lives, and feeling triumphant.

Only a few miles away in Lako, Ravenia stands on one of the many balconies in her palace and stares out at her burning city. All day long, people have been rushing around, trying to put out the flames, but what good does it do when new fire keeps falling from the sky without pause? Even now, comets of fire are shooting down towards her city, tearing through buildings and people. Destroying millennia old buildings, killing and burning.

Ravenia tears her eyes away from the flames and looks out into the darkness where she knows the mortal worm who caused all this has set her camp. Oh, what she would give to see her head spiked to the castle walls. She would set fire to her capital herself, burn down each and every house by hand, if it means that she could get her hands on Miryam in exchange.

She knows, though, that Miryam is beyond her reach. With her army refusing orders, she has no way to get to the girl and she knows that by tomorrow, it will all be over anyways.

If it was up to her, she would take this to the bitter end. Let Miryam burn down the entire country, but Ravenia would see to it that she doesn’t get a single human out alive. She would kill them all and leave Miryam alone in the ashes, choking on her empty victory.

But Ravenia’s people are cowards. Weak-willed, traitorous cowards. Even now, she can see them gathering in the streets, whispering, cursing her name. They have been at it for some time now. Yesterday, when the hail started, Ravenia’s spies first reported that they were talking of an uprising, but now that it’s fire raining from the sky instead of ice, they are actually ready to go through with it.

Ravenia does not wish to surrender. Everything in her rebels against the idea of admitting defeat against a mortal worm, one of her former slaves no less. Yet she doesn’t doubt that if she doesn’t, her own people will drag her out of her palace and tear her apart with their bare hands. Maybe they will send her head to Miryam along with the surrender whoever they chose as their leader will sign, and while the idea of having to surrender and be exiled or executed stings, being usurped and killed by her own people is even more unbearable. If this is the end, then at least she will face it proudly.

Ravenia does not wish to surrender. But in the end, surrender she does.

----

On the ninth day, the sun rises to a destroyed country. The rivers may be running water again, but the end of the curse did not erase its effects. The fields are still destroyed, most of the land burned to ashes, the buildings in ruins. Thousands of people dead.

The palace is deserted. Putting Ravenia and her highest-ranking government officials in chains and sending them to Telique was the first thing Miryam and Drakon did upon taking control of the city. The nobles who were not imprisoned fled to their estates in the countryside, apparently fearing that the invaders might change their minds, and any humans who used to work here have no desire to return.

Miryam had no desire to return, either, and yet she did. Drakon merely shook his head when she asked him if he wanted to return to the palace one last time, but she felt she had to go and so she went.

Slowly, she walks through the deserted halls. There are a million memories connected to this place, and not a single one of them good. She isn’t entirely sure what she is looking for. Some sort of closure, perhaps. Not healing – that will take years and years still – but something to help her make her peace. She knows Drakon found it during his meeting with Ravenia, but when Miryam saw the queen being marched off in chains earlier, she only felt a bitter satisfaction. It doesn’t make the memories of what happened sting less, though.

She reaches the throne room. No guards to be seen, she pushes the doors open herself and steps inside. The hall is entirely empty. A polished floor, artfully decorated walls, an empty throne Ravenia will never sit on again. It looks strangely peaceful, deceptively unthreatening.

This is where Miryam watched her mother and so many other humans, more than she can count, die. This is where she stood, day after day for three years, cowering behind Ravenia’s throne. Where she broke into a million pieces.

She doesn’t know what she is looking for. There is no closure here, not for her. For all that she might want to lock her memories of this place away, it is not possible.

But maybe that’s alright. She has won the war, freed her people. Fulfilled her promise. She isn’t fool enough to think that things will be easy from here on, but she has decades to find a way to make it work. Learn to live with the nightmares instead of run from them. Deal with what was done to her, and what she did. Make a world where no one will ever have to go through the same things as her.

She has her entire life left, and she won’t waste another moment of it in this nightmare.

Miryam turns her back on this horrible, cruel place, this lavish palace now turned crumbling ruin. She does not plan on ever returning – not to this place, and not to this country. Slowly, she walks out of the palace gates one last time.

Outside of the city, she finds her people. They are camped below the city walls, thousands and thousands of them. All of them amazingly, miraculously alive. From where she is standing, she can see children running around between the tents, chasing each other. One of them lets out a breathless laugh.

And doesn’t that alone make every bit of blood and pain, every horrible loss and difficult decision that led her here worth it?

Miryam closes her eyes and lifts her face to the sun shining above. I came back for you, she thinks. Nine years and a war and countless deaths between then and now, but I made it. You are free. We are all free.

----

On the other end of the Continent, Ravenia, formerly Queen of the Black Land, is given a truly unpleasant cell. It comes as a shock, at least to her. She is a queen, after all. Surely they are not going to lock her up in a dreary hole like this, even if she is slated for execution? She always knew the Alliance has little manners, but this is even worse than what she expected. (Unbeknownst to her, some of the Fae on the council were in favour of giving her a pleasant suite of rooms, but they quickly got shouted down by their human colleagues.)

While in the Black Land, humans are travelling towards the capital where so many of their peers are already waiting, Ravenia sits in her cell and stares at the wall. While, eventually, Miryam, Drakon, their army and the hundreds of thousands of humans they are escorting make for the Erythrian Sea where they have arranged for a fleet of ships to escort them across the narrow channel into a more friendly kingdom, Ravenia grumbles about her food and the lack of proper entertainment and pretends, for whoever is watching (which, really, are only a few guards), that this cell is her palace and she still queen.

Her solitude is interrupted just over a week after she was thrown into the cell. Emperor Shey steps into the room. He is dressed in a pristine chemise, deep blue coat slung over his shoulders and his light hair shimmering in the candlelight. Ravenia rises, pretending she is as well-dressed as he is, even though her looks have suffered significantly in the last week.

“Your Excellency,” she says. She does not incline her head (after all, she is Ravenia of the Black Land and she bows to no one, even if she is a prisoner). “I would offer you a seat, but I seem to lack a chair to offer.”

Shey nods. “I’m afraid my mortal allies have little sense for hospitality.” He makes to lean against the wall, seems to notice that it is covered in dirt, and wrinkles his nose. “I come with a suggestion,” he says and holds out a hand. A small bronze key lies in his palm, glowing with some enchantment. Ravenia’s eyes dash from the key to the shackles tying her to the walls, then back again to the key.

“It is charmed to allow you to winnow out of the castle in spite of the wards,” Shey says casually.

Ravenia keeps her gaze fixed on the key but doesn’t reach out to touch it. “Betraying your own allies on your day of victory?” She laughs. “Seems unwise.”

“Not much of a betrayal, is it?” Shey shrugs. “You’ve lost the war, and nothing you can do will change that. But if I’m not mistaken, you still have an army under your command – and the person who is responsible for you losing everything would be within your reach, should you get out of this cell.”

Ravenia’s eyes spark. “So it isn’t your precious Alliance you are betraying. Just its leader.” She laughs again.

“I’m getting rid of a problem,” Shey replies coolly. “And you get the chance to get revenge before your death, so I don’t think you get to complain.” He brushes an invisible fleck of dust off his jacket. “Miryam and her husband are marching for the Erythrian Sea, the humans they freed in tow. They have only a small legion with them, less than the soldiers under your command, but they have ships arranged to transport them across the sea.” He shrugs. “Ships are terribly flammable, though, and these might just burn down before they reach them.”

“And I assume you’ve already arranged for someone to set the fire?”

“Me?” Shey laughs. “My people have no fire powers – unlike yours. The idea that I might be behind this seems outlandish, doesn’t it?”

A smile is tugging at the corner of his mouth, but he bites it down. Now is not the time to gloat, although he is rather proud of his plan. Initially, he had considered sending an assassin after Miryam, but that approach seemed far too risky. With assassins, there are always questions, and knowing these obnoxious mortals, one of them might just lay the blame at his feet. But if Queen Ravenia breaks out of her prison and ends up killing Miryam… well, who would ever think him involved in that? After all, she already has a motive, and no one will have reason to suspect anyone helped her flee her prison.

Shey tosses the key into the air once, then catches it. “A bargain,” he says, offering it to Ravenia again. “You get your revenge. All I’m asking in return is that you never let anyone know I helped you.

Something akin to disgust flickers over Ravenia’s face, there and gone in a moment. She hesitates briefly, fighting the pride that forbids her from doing Shey’s dirty work for him. Her thirst for revenge wins, though. “It’s a bargain,” she says, reaching for the key. Only when she has it safely enclosed in her fist does she look back at Shey. “You have even less honour than I thought,” she says.

----

Tags: @croissantcitysucks @femtopulsed @aileywrites

[moriarty-bibliotheca]

—✧ ❝𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞❞ ✉

— 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 ✉

𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏 𝒔𝒂𝒚𝒔: 「 Hello, miss bibliothecary! I have a story request for you, may I ask for a Sherlock x fem reader x William full fic story? It can be made or are which ever you choose. So the idea I hav is that (Y/N) is a waiter who was at the wrong place at the time and murder happens at the manor she's catering for. William knows of her because she sees him time to time on the street near the college. While she knows of Sherlock cause they're neighbor!? Which man can steal her heart durring this.) Thank you!

❝ 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐦 𝐣𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 , 𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐦𝐞𝐬 ❞

— 𝗳𝗲𝗺𝗮𝗹𝗲! 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

— 𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗱𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗵 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝘂𝘁

— 𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗹𝘂𝗱𝗲𝘀 𝗮 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝘀𝗽𝗼𝗶𝗹𝗲𝗿 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝘃𝗼𝗹𝘂𝗺𝗲 𝟱, 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝟭𝟱

— 𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗺𝗺𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗹 𝗲𝗿𝗿𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝗮𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗱!

☎ 𝒃𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒊𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒚'𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔: oh my~ what an interesting request, i’d be more than happy to fulfill this for you, my dear! the way that i would write how Y/N does her catering is similar to my experience! i hope this is to your liking, now go ahead and check out the story!

The bright lights on the chandelier illuminated the party hall as the invited guests entertained themselves with a conversation with their fellow nobility, Y/N was standing at the corner of the room wearing her usual servant dress. She recently served a few drinks to the ones who requested it, she held the tray firmly before leaving the room and heading to the kitchen.

She let out a soft sigh as she fixed her white apron and her cap, she placed the tray on the kitchen counter and stood beside a fellow waitress. She grabbed a clean towel to continue polishing the silverware that the guests will be using for dinner at a later time, she was feeling a little exhausted from all the catering services she had to do for the past few days, but she wasn’t complaining and thought that she should be grateful that she has a job.

A few minutes later, she had completed her task of polishing all the silverware. She faced the huge window by the kitchen, this baron’s house was humongous, she shouldn’t even be surprised at this point. She walked closer to the window, the pale moonlight illuminated the dark streets of London. If only life would be greater, she would have enjoyed the way she lives her life without being harassed by a majority of the nobility. 

“Enjoying the view?” asked a voice as beautiful as the moon high up in the sky, she nodded without acknowledging who the voice belongs to. “I must say you’re quite occupied,” said the person, “I apologize for disturbing your time, miss.” Y/N’s attention was on this person now, she turned her head to identify who the speaker is, only to see a man of nobility that she has known in a while; William James Moriarty.

“Professor Moriarty,” spoke the female as she gave him a polite curtesy, “I apologize, I did not know it was you, how can I be of service to you?” She had recognized this man for she has seen him quite a few times around London and the university that was located in Durham. She had never spoken to this man face-to-face, but they did greet each other with a smile every time they have walked past each other.

“I’m doing fine, Miss L/N,” said the male, “no need to worry. I am only walking around,” his voice was as melodic as her favorite musical piece, she had to admit that hearing the younger earl’s voice for the first time is quite relaxing. She gave the man a nod as she bowed at him one last time before excusing herself to go back to work, the hint of redness on her cheeks was certainly evident and she didn’t want to embarrass herself any further.

“Did the earl need something, Y/N?” asked a co-worker, the lass shook her head as she tried to calm her beating heart and slight reddened cheeks, she did not know what was happening to her and it felt so sudden to react like this to someone she doesn’t even know much, she shook her head to herself and started preparing the utensils for dinner that will occur within 30 minutes. 

Minutes have passed and everything was prepared, a huge variety of meals were neatly placed on the long table with serving utensils right beside each container; there were hot dishes, cold dishes, salads, and of course, desserts. The headwaiter let out a sigh of relief and looked at his fellow co-workers, he gave them a huge smile followed by a thumbs up and said, “another job well done!” 

It was time for dinner to start, Y/N and her fellow co-workers immediately retreated to the kitchen and cleaned up the area before taking a short rest. The night had been peaceful all the while and thank the Gods that the invited guests and the host of the party weren’t as rude as the previous ones that they have worked for.

But, was the night really peaceful? 

A scream was heard nearby the dining hall, Y/N and her fellow co-workers immediately jumped out of their seats and ran to the place where they heard the scream with the other guests in the dining room coming out of the hall to see the commotion, and to their horror, the discovery they made was gut-wrenching and shocking.

Laid there on the red carpet of the halls was a nobleman, definitely one of the guests as Y/N remembered his face, he laid there on his own pool of blood, lifeless and still. The first one who had discovered it first and alarmed everyone with a scream was a woman, perhaps she had come across this dead man as she left the dining room.

The woman let out a sob as she ran towards a man that was undoubtedly her husband, the lady will surely be scarred upon discovering a dead body, what’s worse is that she might get suspected even if she may be innocent. “What happened?” questioned the headwaiter silently, he was talking to his co-workers in disbelief, the rest of the waiting staff did not answer for they were in quite the shock as well.

“My, how unfortunate,” said William, and he was right, how unfortunate for this man to die at a dinner party as glorious as this one. Another man moved away from the crowd and kneeled next to the dead man to examine his injuries. Why, this man was Sherlock! Y/N’s eyes widened as she recognized this man, he was living right next door and they have interacted a few times. He is quite an intelligent man, she admits. 

It seems the male sensed she was looking at him for he averted his gaze towards Y/N and locked eyes with her for a few seconds, he waved at her and she greeted him back with a wave before he continued on with the investigation. “The yard should be here soon, please get back to your seats,” informed the head butler of the household, the guests immediately walked away from the scene and continued on where they’ve left off.

The rest of the waiting staff walked away as well and went back to the kitchen, “Y/N!” yelled Sherlock, making the maiden turn around to look at him, he gave her another wave before running towards her, “mind helping me out?” Y/N was definitely surprised at his odd request, but agreed to help him anyway, she walked towards the dead body as Sherlock chased another person across the room. 

“Hey,” yelled out Sherlock, “Liam!” The male turned around right after hearing his name— Sherlock’s nickname for him, to be exact. The second Moriarty gave him a small smile and a simple greeting, “Holmes, I see you’re planning to investigate the murder.” Y/N observed them with a little shock, she wasn’t honestly expecting these two to know each other, but she always thought these two were fairly similar and are, no doubt, geniuses. 

“I am!” cheered Sherlock as he rubbed the back of his neck, "wanna make a bet on which one of us catches the culprit first?” Y/N was surprised to hear this, are they treating this like a game? The second Moriarty let out a chuckle, “quite like what happened on the train.” Sherlock looked amused as he gave him a nod and continued on with their short conversation, the two males in equal standing height walked towards the direction of the dead body, right where Y/N was kneeling.

She wishes not to admit this, but she’s starting to feel a little shy. She will be accompanying two men with one of them apart of the nobility, who’s to say this investigation won’t be quite awkward with a maiden like her to tag along? As curious as the lass is, she wanted to know why did Sherlock ask for her help, that was a little odd of him and she knows she is nowhere near their intellectual level to be able to help them solve this case. 

“L/N,” greeted Moriarty, “I assume you’re here to help?” The maiden nodded at him, “I guess you could say that.” She was definitely uncertain on why she’s here, she wasn’t even sure if she can do anything to help them. “It seems he was stabbed,” said Sherlock as the three of them continued observing. “Stabbed at least 10 times,” added William as he and Sherlock examined the body, Y/N quietly glanced at the two of them and her eyes landed on Sherlock. 

The amount of times they’ve seen each other was countless, it wasn’t that rare since he lives next door with his roommate in Miss Hudson’s apartment. Those short meetings always included short conversations and people could tell they were friends, to say the least. The short conversations Y/N had with Sherlock was interesting, it was always fun for the maiden to hear some random facts that the male found out during his experiments and some sort. 

She would be lying if she said she wasn’t looking forward to seeing Sherlock so often, Y/N’s gaze stayed on Sherlock as he observed the crime scene and made some deductions while talking to William. The way his eyes would lit up when William makes a deduction that perfectly fits what he was thinking, the way he looks when he stayed focused and was dedicated to his thoughts alone, it was like he shouldn’t be disturbed.

Y/N started to feel like a creep the longer she observes Sherlock instead of the crime scene to help them, she shook her head and broke her concentrated gaze on the detective. She was starting to think she might be ill, her heartbeat starts to get quicker and her cheeks were a hint of red, her palms were a little sweaty and she was nervous, similar to how she reacted during her encounter with William earlier. 

“Are you alright?” asked Moriarty, he had noticed the redness of her cheeks and wondered if she was sick or feeling nervous around them. The maiden nodded, “I — I’m fine,” spoke Y/N as she mentally cursed herself for stuttering. “If you’re feeling ill,” said Moriarty as he kneeled in front of her, “we can escort you to a room until you feel better.” 

There it was again, the heat on her cheeks grew as it got redder, her heartbeat quickened as she tried to process what was happening, she immediately shook her head and dismissed the offer, she thanked him for the concern and told him that she could manage. She avoided eye contact as they continued on with the investigation, she gave a few statements here and there that would certainly help the problem progress further until they have arrived to a conclusion.

As soon as they had enough clues, the two decided to split up for their bet was still present, they definitely weren’t joking. “Wait,” said Y/N, “you two were serious about the bet?” She seemed to be in total disbelief, were they really treating this as a game? She wished she could understand the fun that they are experiencing just by solving cases and living as a genius. “Why, yes,” said Sherlock, “and you’ll be the final judge to see who catches and arrests the culprit first.” 

“Me?” questioned the female as Sherlock nodded and waved at her, he and William split up and went on their own ways whilst Y/N stayed with the Scotland Yard and had a short conversation with Lestrade. 

A minute or two had passed and the two gentlemen had appeared at the same time, they both had a few people with them that could be the potential killer. As the two continued to explain their reasons and logic, Y/N and the yard listened attentively and whether they’d admit it or not, these two were pretty impressive. 

After a few minutes of deductive reasoning, the main culprit turned out to be one of the servants in the household, the culprit tried to explain that he did it out of loyalty for his master, but that did not change anything and he was arrested. Sherlock let out a yawn as he stretched his arms, “I guess we both caught the culprit together.” 

William nodded as he looked at Sherlock, “that doesn’t mean our bet is settled.” His scarlet eyes then averted towards the female as she stood there, completely clueless about this “bet” that they were talking about. “What is it?” asked Y/N as she noticed the two of them were looking at her, the two gents gave her a smile as her cheeks turned pink.

“Winner of our bet gets to ask you out,” said William and this made the lady’s heart beat even faster, “but the both of us ended up winning, so you get to choose.” Choose? My, this is a tough decision, Y/N wasn’t even certain if she has feelings for one of them, despite the fact that she was experiencing weird symptoms every time she speaks to them.

Well, should she choose William; the young professor of mathematics with such beautiful scarlet eyes that seemed to hold the darkest secrets or should she choose Sherlock; the consulting detective that lives right next door with whom she had interacted quite a few times now. 

☎ 𝒃𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒊𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒚'𝒔 𝒄𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒆: this is quite long and it took me a day and a half to finish this, let me know if there are errors! i seemed to have gather a lot of motivation in the middle of the night even if i am tired. setting that aside, i hope you enjoyed! sorry if this was nowhere near your expectations, let me know if you want me to do alternate endings for this! come visit the bibliotheca again, darling!

[sardonic-the-writer]

Markiplier headcanon request: Chaos at the mall—What department stores are the blorbos going to look in to find gifts for their S/O? Who’d be searching through all the fancy candles for the perfect scent at the Yankee Candle shop? Interrogating the clerk at the chocolate shop for best possible quality items? Anyone now banned from the tech-store outlets? Who’d be causing mayhem at Build-A-Bear?

Anything goes! (Pls do not feel pressured to do this ask if you’re not vibing ’ w/ it.)

Oooh ideas ideas ideas. I love this prompt. But I changed it up a bit. Instead of just being limited to the mall, a lot of characters did their own thing

━MARKIPLIER ☆

Mark sent out a tweet on his alt account, asking people what he should get for you. Spent a couple minutes looking through the responses before closing his phone and deciding he would do it himself

Made you a build-a-bear! It looked like him, fake moustache and all, so that way when he was away from you you'd always have something to remind you of him <3

━DARKIPLIER ☆

Dark went to the finest jeweler he knew. Only the best for his darling after all

Got you a silver bracelet with the both of your initials engraved on the back, as well as a single rose he had picked from a garden himself

Presented them to you all charming like, reveling in the way your face lit up

━ANTISEPTICEYE ☆

Anti can't even get within five miles of the mall after your last visit. You really hope that man is recovering well from the incident-

So online shopping it was! The glitch searched for a bit before deciding on a pet scorpion. It's a strange gift, but its your strange gift <3

He let you name it Snappy

━WILFORD ☆

Wilford is ever the romantic. Just...in his own way.

He'll go out to almost every store and buy you multiple things. But the thing is, they're all pink

Pink balloons, pink chocolates, pink roses, s fuzzy pink blanket; you name it, and hes got it.

He even gets you a glittery pink microphone to use durring his annual karaoke nights that he drags you to

━YANCY ☆

This man. This sweet sweet man.

He would work so hard to get you something worthwhile. He can't go to the mall of course, so Yancy is limited to what he can muster up.

This inmate spent weeks chumming up to the guards and getting job after job so that was he could sneek into the wardens office. Once in there, Yancy grabbed a coil of old Christmas lights he'd had his eye on for a while

He had decided to decorate your cell in a more colorful way, knowing how much you hated the bland walls. And maybe he could even slow dance with you under the light show. If you allowed him to do so of course

━ENGINEER ☆

Built you a small contraption that dings a bell everytime he thinks of you. It's hooked up to a small button that he can press whenever he wants to, making the bell ring!

It's very sweet to come home while he's away to hear the small dinging of the bell. Although you might have to ask him to stop pressing it at three in the morning. You do need your sleep after all

━ACTOR ☆

For once in his life, the bastard decided maybe he should do something nice for you. Of course he'd denied ever doing such, but the thought is still there

He didn't even have to go to the mall. Just got you a 8×10 glossy of his heads hots with an autograph at the bottom.

But the i was dotted with a little heart, something that he didnt do for anyone else :>

━ILLINOIS ☆

He had been collecting small rocks for you every time he went on a different adventure. Each and everyone had reminded him of you in some way. Wether that be the texture, shape, or look. There were ones from all over the world! And stories that came along with them too

Illinois put them all in a small box that he would give to you that evening. The adventurer was looking forward to seeing your reaction to

[the-villian-i-seem-to-be]

I have a request that you don't have to do if you don't want.

Would you write a yandere William and Sherlock from Yuukokou no Moriarty? Or are you not interested?

Damn! Yandere William and Yandere Sherlock!! Ok so both or separate? I'll do both!!

(Y/N) could feel themselves grow weary of the rising tension between her and Sherlock. You see, (Y/N) is a journalist who loves to write about Sherlocks cases in the newspaper. They always are accompanying him for cases with Dr. Watson, even if the detective dislikes her nosy attitude to his work life and personal life. But the journalist could tell he was warming up to her. Even if it was only.

Anyway, she decided to accompany Sherlock and Dr. Watson on another case. Though the doctor had caught the flu and had given her his train ticket to make sure Sherlock wouldn't cause trouble on one of his cases with Inspector Lestrade. So she agreed and three rode off to York for his case. Though it was a waste of time in detectives eyes once he couldn't find what he was looking for. He started spew a few curses under his breath once Mr. Lestrade went to get a newspaper.

Saying he'll come to the train car a bit later before it takes off. So the journalist and detective were alone on the boarding dock. Heading to their train. "Honestly, to hell with your death by illness. Get yourself killed, seriously.."

Sherlock utters with clear agitation in his voice. "Aw, c'mon detective Sherlock. It's okay, we can always come back and take another look around!" The (h/c)-nette smiles, hoping it would ease his worries.

Which didn't work because it seemed as if he grew more upset.

"I should of shot him when I could. If I had..."

(Y/N)'s knew he was talking about the Mr. Hope case. Though she never thought he should of killed him! "Sherlock-!" He cuts her off, "if I had killed I would have been one step closer to a huge mystery!"

"We both know that you would of done it if given the chance! You don't even care for the mystery, only the story that gets coverage!" "That isn't true!" The journalist hollars, making Sherlock turn quiet.

Sucking in a shaky breath, they try to speak more calmly. "I may go on your cases for a story. But I also care about the people in them. Sherlock, I don't want to write a article about you killing a man, and for what? A bigger mystery that you want to solve?"

"I.. I thought you weren't like that, I thought you actually seeked the truth, but not the way I hoped for." They say, sadly starring at the dark haired male in front of them. "I'll meet you in train car shortly, I-I, need a minute to calm my nerves." As the woman walks off, Sherlock scowls at his actions.

"That is-I didn't-" the male sighs and ruffles his hair. His mood and thoughts in a jumble. Pulling out a cigarette, he lights it up. Taking in the toxic fumes into his lungs to calm himself and clear his head.

(Y/N) finds herself siting in the food car, she rather be on her lonsome than deal with a unpleasant Sherlock. He was acting childish and locked her out of their shared car. So she decided to wait for his anger to subsidize. Though they were growing antsy and they needed to talk this out with Sherlock. She didn't want their supposed "one sided friendship" to end!? He let her try his cigarette once.

Only after, thought she was dying after taking a puff of the cancer stick and he laughed at her. Not only that, but she was given the privilege to hear him play the violin once before he kicked her out of his house for bothering him! Sighing, she felt her pumped up spirit slowly fading into a husk.

"Enough sulking, get a grip!" She sits up and slaps her cheeks. Frightening the waiter that waited for her to make her order. "M-miss are you alright?" Turning her eyes to the waiter with determination, she nods. Telling the waiter she wasn't ready to order yet.

Getting out of her seat, she was about to head over to Sherlock. Though her eyes find a familiar blond headed man sitting in one of the booths a little farther from her's.

Stepping cautiously to his booth, she holds her head up high an stands in front of him. "Mr. Professor Moriarty..?" The blonde male looks up from his empty dish and his red rubies stare at her with confusion and another emotion she couldn't quite place. "Mr. Professor! It truly is you!"

"My god, how are you? It's been quite awhile since I saw you." The mathematician smiles at her, "yes, hello Ms. (Y/N), I am well. How are you?"

The woman smiles gleefully, "yes I have-!" She held back her tongue as the memories with Sherlock resurface. Yet her smile stayed stuck to her lips. "Uh.. I should go. I don't want to over stay my welcome-" "there's no need for you to leave just yet. Me and my brother were getting quite bored. Please sit awhile, it will be nice to talk once more."

Mr. Moriarty says politely, letting her join them. The Journalist tries to force herself to decline, yet, she may never take this opportunity to sit to a nobleman as interesting as him ever again. She couldn't miss her chance! She can just make some small chit chat then run off after to talk to Sherlock! Genius!

"Alright.. But not for long, I need to talk with a friend of mine after." "A friend?" The second oldest Moriarty questions, his tone slightly cold. (Y/N) doesn't bother to notice his tone and sits down next to Williams brother. "Yes, I came here with a friend, well, in my opinion. I'm pretty sure he hates my guts now, but he's still a close companion of mine" (Y/N) chuckles dryly.

"I, see. I hope the two of you are, well." He replies stiffly, hiding a unhappy look with a smile. Though his observant brother could tell that he was slowly growing annoyed by her words.

"If you do mind me asking, but how do you know of my brother Ms. (Y/N)?" Louis asks her, her focus shifts to the male next to her.

Her eyes light up at Louis. "Ah, we met on the Noahtic. I was covering a story about a performance that was going to be held on it. I met Mr. Moriarty at a small gathering held on the ship floors. I offered him a drink and the two of us chatted for awhile." (Y/N) said with sheepish grin.

"Then I heard a murder had occured durring the performance. I was so shocked yet, forgive me for saying this, but thrilled! This was something that needed to be shown to the public- oh um, forgive me for blabbering!" (Y/N) blurted out, covering her mouth with her hand to stop herself.

William just chuckles at her, shaking his head. "It's quite alright. I didn't know you were so passionate about your job. I find it very endearing and admirable." (Y/N) flushed from his compliments, letting her hand fall to her lap as she gave him a sweet smile. "Thank you, Professor Moriarty. That's very kind of you."

Before William could say another word, Inspector Lestrade walks up to the booth. "(L/N)?" Looking up to see who had called her, she sees the Inspector. Quickly getting up from her seat, she greets him awkwardly.

"Is this the man you said that "hates your guts" ?" William questions, though his eyes don't glare at him. "NO, NO, NO, NO!" Flailing her hands around, she tries to clear up the misunderstanding. "I was joking!"

"Mr. Lestrade doesn't hate me! I was talking about someone else! Not him!!" The journalist cries out, the Inspector sighs and shakes his head.

"I apologize for my acquaintance, Mr..?" "Oh, this is Professor Moriarty! And the one sitting across from is his brother." (Y/N) introduces them to Mr. Lestrade like nothing had ever happened. Or at least pretending too.

"Professor Moriarty and Mr. Moriarty, this is Inspector Lestrade. He's another good friend of mine. He works for the Scotland Yard. Pretty neat right?"

(Y/N) winks, doing small jazz hands to make his introduction a little interesting. "(Y/N), why aren't you with-" before the Inspector could finish his sentence. A shrill scream of woman was heard.

~°~

Running to source of the scream. (Y/N) follows behind the youngest Moriarty and Inspector Lestrade. She bumps into one of the passengers and apologizes. Not looking at who she bumped into.

(Y/N) could hear Sherlock and Professor Moriarty discus. Growing immensely curious, she wiggled her way through the two men. Walking up to Sherlock and

"What happened?!" She said, but mostly to Sherlock who arrived before her. Who was looking through a peep hole of one of the rooms inside the train car.

"Look for yourself." He remarks, stepping away from the peep hole. (Y/N) hesitates for a moment, though creates false courage to see what happened. But was then was stopped by Sherlocks hand on her shoulder.

He didn't stare at her in the eye like normally, instead her shirt. Confused, (Y/N) looks down, she regrets it soon after. There, on her shirt was fresh blood. Even some smeared on her hands. "What.."

All eyes focused solely on her, the air quiet as she was panicking inside her mind. "It seems we have a valuable prize in our game now to make things more interesting." William said to the shocked detective, who gave the noble man a twisted smirk. "I guess so, I don't plan on losing, Liam." A disturbing smile crawls onto the crime consultant.

"Neither do I."

(Okay, this ask went a LOT longer than expected. I wanted to make it shorter but a rush of creativity hit me because I was re-watching ep 10 of Yuukoku No Moriarty! And reading the manga!! Yes!! And I hope I made them very Yandere-ish.)

[windywooshes]

Douma x (F)Reader

~*:beloved short cut guide:*~

(Y/N): Name

(L/N): Last name

(H/C): Hair color [i.e. brunette, blonde, etc ]

(E/C): Eye color

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

A rainbow. That was the first thought which crossed her mind when she peeked between the bodies of her parents and the two cult leaders.

Behind the excited chattering, was a boy, no older her age. He had silver hair and the most sparkly eyes the little girl ever saw in her young life. The boy himself was skimming the room, borred, until he locked eyes with the curious child. (Y/N) quickly hid behind her mother's legs with a slight blush covering her cheeks, when he smiled warmly over to her, waving his tiny hand as a gesture of welcome.

It seemed that the older female felt the curiousity of the (H/C) which was circling around her like a swarm of beez. Buzzing and summing. What would his name be ? Is he another kid whose parents joined ? Will he be her friend ?

Most questions were answered when she and her parents were led into the room. She was confused as to why her mother and father were bowing down deeply infront of the child. Tearing up, she was forced down for a bow as well. Her head colliding with the hard tatami matt, creating a blue spot the next day, probably. The boy's smile didn't vanish.

„Welcome to the cult of entire happiness~. May your stay bring joy and peace into your life. You may raise your head now.“

„Oh thank you, our beloved leader.“

(Y/N) raised both of her eyebrows in confusion. Leader ? Is she a leader as well ? There is no significant difference between the boy and her, after all. If this boy could bring happiness to her parents...would she be able to as well ?

She silently gasped. The girl would definitely make sure to ask the silverette how to do that. Life seemed to be very gloomy, whenever she was home alone with her elders. Loud arguments and ugly fights painted the nights in a muted color. How she longed for those old colorful days, where her father would embrace her mother tightly. Or the summer days where she was helping her mother with the laundry, laughing and enjoying the surring melody of the cicadas.

When the family exited the ceremony room, they were invited for tea to discuss the other details together. (Y/N) wouldn't stop thinking about the boy. Thanks to the mother of the leader, she was allowed to skim through the palace by her own. You wouldn't need so say that twice to her, as she immediately dashed her way out of the room.

To her disadvantage, the mansion felt like a labyrinth. Crossing many different rooms and areas but not the one she wished for. She sinked down on the wooden floor. Sniffles already escaping her nose.

(Y/N) was lost. But before she could even break out into tears, she felt a presence behind her. Turning around, she found the little boy from before. Her face lighted up on the spot as she made her way up to her legs again.

„Are you okay ? Where are your parents ?“

His voice sounded so soft, yet the words felt hollow. On a closer look, she noticed the colorful orbs to be dull. Without any emotion or life in them. How come such beautiful eyes, looked so cold ?

Douma shifted his head to the side. Was the girl deaf ? Could she maybe not speak ? Before he could say anything, he felt a tug on his hand as the girl suddenly grabbed it with both of her own. She was piercing holes into him. That was something he never had happen to him before. What a bold child, she was.

„Please teach me how I can give Mama and Papa happiness !“

Her voice sounded determined. Almost as if she blurted out a promise, she swore to fullfill and he was the only key which would lead to it.

Douma's eyes furrowed upwards. How should he confess to her that happiness is a fraud ? That there is no way to bring or become happy ? That it was all just a ghost of sensation inside someone's mind ? He placed his free hand ontop of one of hers, smiling again.

„I believe that you should find it yourself, as I am only a messenger between god and the humans.“

He couldn't bring himself to tell her the truth he believed in. She seemed to be too pure and innocent to be painted in muddy hues by this harsh reality. The mansion was a place of peace. Of illusions. It was not his job to destroy them. Especially for one of hid future followers.

He watched her eyes drifting off from his own, onto the floor. Her eyebrows knitted together. For a moment Douma expected her to be disappointed but he was met with an excited expression instead. Her lips forming into a toothy grin.

„Right ! I think I can do it even without god's help !“

He was caught off guard for a moment. All the time he was seated on the throne, he only saw people bowing down to him. Praying. Sending messages to god for help, instead of searching for solutions for their problems on their own. Suddenly his heartbeat quickened.

„Oh ! I'm (L/N) (Y/N) ! But please just call me (Y/N) ! We should play a lot when you can~“

Her smile was as bright as the sun. Genuine warmth which he hasn't felt in a while.

„Please call me Douma. It's a pleasure to meet a new follower~“

Before the two of them could chat any further, a female voice could be heard, calling out the name of the (H/C).

„I think you need to leave already. I hope we will meet again.“

With that, Douma disappeared inside the room next to them. Just in time before (Y/N)'s mother arrived to take her daughter to the exit of the mansion.

Maybe, they could become friends after all.

Months passed with her family visiting the cult on a regular basis once a week. Sadly the girl couldn't make much progress with their friendship since Douma was only seen durring the ceremonies or private prayer appointments. It was a very frustrating visit every week but the girl told herself to keep trying.

She found a chance to approach him after hearing about the latest tragedy. Douma's father was found murdered by his wife while she herself took her own life by poisoning herself.

(Y/N) felt sad for the young boy. How would he live without his parents ? How can he live day by day, knowing about such a horrible event in his own home ? After all it seemed to happen inside of his ceremony room too.

She carefully peeked inside of the four walls, hoping not to interrupt him in one of his cleansing ceremonies. He was lying on his pillow, eyes closed. It seemed as if he was fast asleep from all the stress and preasure. Suprisingly, the room didn't contain any sight or smell of the blood bath.

Carefully the (H/C) girl, sneaked in her way infront of the pillow and starred down at the child with her big (E/C) orbs. It didn't take long for Douma to open his own, to gaze right back at the owner of the second pair.

„Do you wish for an audience ? I can squeeze in some extra time for you.“ he smiled brightly but it felt so hollow and cold as always.

Inching her way closer to the male, she carefully glanced around the room, making sure that no adults were close who could scold her for her actions.

The said boy just looked at her, confused by her behaviour but not questioning it any further until he felt small arms wrap around his body and the warmth against him. The colorful orbs blinked, not sure what to do or say in such a situation. It felt warm. It felt save. His chest tightened for a bit, heart beating louder. Something was dwelling up inside of him but he couldn't really catch this intruder. It was unknown for him. It felt just like the first interaction they shared.

Hearing sniffles, his bushy eyebrows arched up. Was she crying on his behalf ? Because of the latest events ? Douma couldn't even understand why she would make herself sad because of something what happened to him. It shouldn't matter to her. It was his life, his tragedy to bear, not hers.

„I'll make sure to come every day and play with you ! Pinky promise !“

Holding out her tiny finger infront of him, after leaving the hug, (Y/N) had a stern yet soft look on her face. The boy shouldn't feel lonely all by himself. She'll make sure to bring some fun and adventure into his life ! Only because he brings happiness doesn't mean that he can't have some of it as well, right ?

Douma on the other hand was just perplexed and totally unsure as to what to do now. He just ended up copying her and held out his own pinky infront of her. As quick as he could blink, she had both of their fingers wrapped up together and gave it one nice shake before letting go. Giving him a bright toothy smile, before waving her hand to say goodbye.

„I'll be back tomorrow !“

With that, the silver haired male was left alone in the room, still holding his pinky up, confused and unsure as to what just happened.

And as tomorrow came, (Y/N) dashed along with it. Somehow both kids managed to sneak out of the stuffy ceremony room into the big garden which was located in the middle of the temple. With paper squares in one hand and entwined fingers in the other, the (H/C) made her way over to the pond with the boy.

„(L/N)-san...I believe we are not allowed to trespass into the garden.“

Actually, Douma couldn't care less about the rules as he was the center of attention in the cult but he just tried to find a way to get back inside, since the bright sun burnt down on them, as it was already the middle of summer.

„Aw...you are no fun, Douma-chan !“ she puffed her cheeks out with her eyebrows knitted together but eased up once she handed him some square papers.

Seating herself on the stoned pavement, she started to fold and bend one of the thin sheets and managed to create a decent looking lotus flower.

„Let's decorate the pond a bit. It looks so bland and the koi seem to like the flowers too !“

Glancing into the reflecting water, he watched as two kois swam underneath the freshly folded lotus, trying to hide from the shining orb in the sky by swimming in the shadow of the paper figure.

Douma looked over to the side, catching the eyes of the girl and smiled a bit. He gently placed his hat down from his head and sat himself close to his companion. Watching her tiny hands gliding over the paper with each new fold. Copying her movements calmly, as if he had done this millions of times before. The girl glimpered her eyes in amazement.

„Woah ! It looks so pretty ! I'm sure the fishes will be happy about it !“

Her smile was just as bright as the afternoon sun, watching happily when he placed the flower gently into the water with a smile gracing his own lips.

Douma caught himself gazing at (Y/N) with his own amazement and curiosity. His chest was fluttering again but he didn't seem to mind it as much as yesterday. He just took her hand in his tiny one and smiled brightly.

„Let's make this pond beautiful together !“

The (H/C)'s face lighted up with his promise. Nodding her head in excitement, she squeezed his hand gently before continuing to fold new flowers to place into the liquid.

Years passed and the garden grew, along with the two kids. The new flora and fauna decorating the center of the mansion proudly.

Both , (Y/N) and Douma continued to care for it and the koi. Meeting up every day just for a bit tranquillity from the cult. The silverette was dreading for the small amount of time he could spend with the girl. After all those years, he grew to enjoy her company and her refreshing nature. Just like a fresh cube of ice durring a hot summer day, she was cooling him off and bringing him the relaxation he secretly hoped for since his early childhood days.

Douma was currently seated on the wooden floor which connected the garden and the house with each other. Gracefully folding a lotus flower from a peachy pink colored origami paper. Even though they planted real lotus in the pond, he still found himself crafting them whenever he was waiting for the (H/C).

Quick taps on the floor brought him out of his daydreaming. He knew exactly who they belonged to as he heard the same rythm for such a long period already. A smile waved upon his face when he caught the (E/Y) orbs and the slightly messy (H/C) locks of (Y/N).

„I told you that you don't need to run~ you might slip and hurt yourself as you did that time...“

(Y/N) furrowed her eyebrows together, cheeks tinting pink. That time, she was running through the hallways to find the devil himself. Well, the females search was successful. She managed to slip and bump right into him, sending them both onto the hard wooden floor, earning an earful afterwards from the cult followers who witnessed the whole fiasco.

„I've been more careful since then though !“

The male laughed at her reaction. It was always interesting to watch her flustered face and her movements along with it. Patting the spot next to him, he invited her over to enjoy the scenery of the garden and the cold breeze of the wind. She quickly sat down, back facing him as he took out a comb from one of his pockets.

It became a daily ritual for him to brush her hair after she arrived, since it always looked all over the place from her running. A time where both of them could have their peace from the loud city or from the other members. A small moment of recharging.

(Y/N) started to humm a small melody while she patiently sat besides the cult leader, while the man himself couldn't help but smile slightly. Admiring the soft touch of her hair against his fingers. He carefully inched closer to her neck and gave it a quick kiss, before leaning back again once he heard her shriek of surprise. Holding up his hands in defence, he couldn't hold back his chuckles at the entertaining ruckus she gives him. He earned some gentle smacks with the fan which the girl brought along with her. Cheeks puffed out and brught red.

Once she stopped she sighed and put her hands down on her lap, looking at the leaves which were swaying with the light wind. Douma followed her gaze but caught himself stealing some looks at the female next to him intead. Wrapping an arm around her shoulder, he pulled her against his chest. Surprisingly enough, he was not poked and shoved back. Feeling his company ease up against him.

.

.

.

„You should move into the mansion.“

„Huh ?“

„You wouldn't need to run here. We could enjoy the view even at night! It looks beautiful with the fireflies. I could comb your hair everyday. We could fold other paper figures~“

„You know that I can't do that...because-„

„Because of your sick mother, I know...“

Douma sighed and rubbed his temple. For a while now, you have been taking care of your ill mother since your father passed away. He knew your hardships and saw your bruised hands and legs from carrying the heavy vegetables everyday to sell them on the market. Just so you could earn some more yen to get both of you through life. And as disgusting and inhumane it sounded, he was wishing for your mother to finally pass away and free you from your slavery. He could offer you more. Anything you would wish for, it would be there in mere seconds. Yet you declined all of his offers up until now. Refusing to live life easy.

It made him frustrated but he respected your decision. Honestly, he couldn't care less as to what you make out of your life...right ? It should be like that but he still seems to grow annoyed by the constant rejection. Don't humans usually go for the easiest way ? Why wouldn't you do the same. Why were you so stubborn. A contrast to his usual followers.

„As you wish, my lotus~“

She sighed before poking him in the side, earning no reaction whatsoever.

„Here, I made this fan for you since you seem to hate the heat so much.“

Pulling away from the embrace, (Y/N) pulled out a beautiful golden fan.

„For our wonder and blessing, Douma-sama~“ copying one of the desperate cult members voice, she held out the item and bowed down deeply.

Douma chuckled and gently picked up the fan, answering in a mocking royal voice.

„I am grateful for your generous offering, my lost lamb. May you find happiness~ you may raise your head now.“

Placing a hand ontop of her head, he could feel the shaking of her body which came from the laughter she tried to hold back.

The wind chimes ringed with the gentle breeze which was traveling through the garden and another day ended with (Y/N) heading back home.

The next day, Douma was surprised to be alone in the garden. As well as the following. And the other.

2 weeks passed and he hasn't heard anything of (Y/N). But when he did, it was not a pretty sight for him to see. Her hands and cheek were swollen with bruises, she was dirty, her once beautiful (H/C) locks looked like a total mess.

Apparently his wish became true.

After (Y/N) arrived at home that night, she was met with the terrible fate of discovering her mother brutally murdered. It was a horrific sight. To her dismay, she met face to face with the attacker and almost got killed herself. Almost. If it wouldn't have been to the swordsman who beheaded the monster inches away from of her face.

The shock from losing her last family member and for almost having her life pulled away from her grasp, let her fall into sadness and fear. She couldn't move or eat for days. This also meant that she couldn't pay for her necessities in time, bringin the owner of the fields and house, home to her and beating her for the refusal of work over the time span. Taking away all left over possessions she was left with. Without a roof over her head or a job to feed her, she didn't know where to go or what to do. Once she snapped out of her trance, she found herself infront of the gates of the cult mansion and broke down into tears when she was met with the face of Douma.

The members helped her clean up and cutting her hair. Sadly it was so messed and clogged up that brushing wouldn't help. Which ended up with her hair becoming a bon cut. The bruises were bandaged and taken care of, in hopes that they won't leave permanent marks on her skin.

Once night arrived, (Y/N) made her way silently to the garden. Plopping down on the spot she usually sat on with the cult leader. Gazing at the small glowing dots which danced through the petals and leaves.

„It really does look beautiful...“ she whispered, not sensing the presence of Douma behind her.

He sat down next to her and looked at her face. It felt empty. Her sparkling eyes completely dull. Her voice drained of joy. Raising up his hand to touch her head, the impact of his touch resulted in a flinch and the girl backing away from him a bit.

„A-ah, I apologize...I was in thoughts...“

She tried to crank up a smile but it looked horrible. It felt as if everything bright and beautiful was taken away from him the second he saw her today. Attempting to show some kind of comfort he wrapped his arms around her smaller frame. Careful not to put pressure on the wounds and blue spots on her flesh.

„You will be well here...I will give you anything you want or need. You won't face any more fear. You will be safe. I will make sure of it.“

He felt her shaking, not from laughter this time though. Her sobs filling the silence of the safe haven they built up together. A beautiful summer night, yet it was so ugly.

The following weeks, Douma tried to fulfill any wish the female had. He would make his followers bring her the sweetest treats, the most beautiful kimono to wear, bringing her a fresh bouquet of flowers to decorate her room. To his frustration, nothing seemed to bring the smile back he was always curious about. The spark which brought him calm. Nothing of it surfaced, remaining shut inside of the shell which created them.

His actions seemed to have brought the dismay of his followers as well. Many females and males complained about his bias towards the (H/C) girl. He brushed them off, assuring them that he was just trying his best to recreate the happiness which the girl lost. But it didn't seem to work. Soon enough, certain members started to push her around, ignoring her or talking behind her back. Spreading rumours and untasteful remarks.

It seemed that it affected the male more than her as she was only sitting outside the garden, watching the scenery with an empty stare.

As days went on, (Y/N) seemed to become ill. Becoming weaker and weaker with every sunrise which followed. Soon, she was not being found outside but laying inside her room with the shoji door open, to bring some fresh summer wind into the square which caged her in.

The silverette made sure to visit her with each day. Bringing her the nutrients she needed along with the medicine which was prepared by his cult members.

„Douma...I'm grateful for the time we spent. Even though my life was not painted in colors...but whenever I saw you and spent time in the garden, it was filled up with them and brought me peace.“

Before he could respond, he was cut off by the female once again.

„I am aware that you cannot feel as I do. Or see as I do. Hate and greed, happiness and love. Those are emotions you do not possess. Maybe you never did. But let me confess you my love, at least now before I pass...“

Her voice was raspy and very quiet. If he didn't lean in closer to her, he would have barely caught what she tried to tell him.

(Y/N) proped herself up shakily, Douma helping her up as good as he could since he was clearly unsure how he could aid her. Once she somewhat sat up, she leaned against his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. She was aware of his lack of emotions. Even from the early childhood days, yet she still grew to love him. No matter how empty and cold he was.

Pressing her soft lips against his cheek, she gave him a small peck before succumbing back into his arms.

Her last breaths were decorated with a genuine last smile she gifted the male, on his way through life without her. A talisman.

He burried her in the garden, next to the pond. Where she would remain one of his beloved lotus flowers. She was the reason why he grew to like them. And after the harsh winter and the visit of Kibutsuji, they were the only flowers which survived and stayed in the garden with him through all these years. The first and last memory of his humanity for a good while.

So fleeting. Like a rainbow after a summer rain.

——————

This was one of the two requests I received ! The next one will be another Zenitsu x Reader :) thank you for the love !

[gouthepro]

Okay so in Bakugan Geogan Rising there are more than a few plot inconsistencies. However I really feel the need to talk about two of them that are linked in multiple ways and both revolve around one character. Personally I don't think these inconsistencies are just mistakes and they could have a larger meaning behind them.

I'll start with episode four, part two: Magnus returns.

For a quick summary of the episode; The Awesome Are leaving school when they see Emily Black being carried and taken away by a Cubbo. The Awesome Brawlers follow Cubbo and end up at Everett Ray's Bakugan battle arena where Everett and Strata are trying to get Emily to battle Strata so Everett can get more views on his channel. Dan faces Strata in battle instead until Magnus shows up and takes over the battle, destroying all the cameras and defeating Strata in battle. Magnus then has a short conversation with the Awesome Brawlers and his sister before leaving and the episode ends with Dan saying "That's Magnus.. Good to see he's back."

Now all this may seem normal and you're probably thinking "So what's the inconsistency? Magnus shows up to save his sister, tells Dan that they will battle again sometime in the near future and then he leaves, seems normal enough?" Except that'd be wrong.

Because how did Magnus know what had happened to Emily or where to find her?

While the explanation might be as simple as he just saw the livestream online. I feel like there's more to it… Back in the episode Magnus PI, Magnus sees a video about the Bakugan battle league but switches it off and says how it has nothing to do with him. So what are the chances that he randomly sees Everett's live stream and decides to tune in? The only channel other than the news that Magnus is known to watch is the Awesome Brawlers' channel (This is seen in episode thirty, part one: Two sides of the coin). So unless the live stream's name mentioned Emily in it he'd have probably just ignored it.

So how did he find out? Well I think someone told him, likely over text. The only other thing it could've been is he randomly saw the battle while flying overhead, but the chances of that are even lower than him seeing the livestream, not to mention he appeared in a way that makes it obvious that he knew what was going on.

Now who could've told him? Well any of the following could be a possibility because they're the ones most likely to have contact with Magnus or they have a reason they'd want to tell him.

Dan

Wynton

Lia

Shun

Ajit

Riot

Emily

AAAnimus

Everett

However we can quite quickly narrow this down.

Emily wouldn't have had an opportunity to contact Magnus. Saying it was Riot would be too much of a stretch as there's no proof she knew what happened. AAAnimus can be removed from that list too because even if they knew what was going on they likely wouldn't bother contacting Magnus about it.

Now the remaining six.

The chances of it being Everett are so low I'm almost not sure why I put him on the list, however I do have a reason for that. Everything Everett did in this episode was for ratings and views on his channel. At the end of the episode he even says "Nillious battling did earn me a bit of a rating spike, while it lasted." It's because of this I put him on the list of potential people who could've contacted Magnus, if he wanted views and thought that Magnus battling with Nillious would earn him views then it'd make sense for him to want Magnus to go there and battle. It could've been his plan all along, bring Emily to the battle arena then force her to battle Strata in the hopes that Magnus would show up and take him down, earning him views in the process. It's even confirmed in this episode that he knew Emily and Magnus are siblings before Magnus showed up. However, it's seriously unlikely that he'd have been able to contact Magnus (and Everett isn't involved in the second inconsistency I noticed which I think is linked to this one) so we can take him off the list too.

That leaves Dan, Wynton, Lia, Shun and Ajit.

Dan was battling so he wouldn't have had a chance to contact anyone. Because they were standing either side of Emily, Wynton and Shun are seen throughout the course of the battle. So it likely wasn't them. We don't really see Lia but because of her reaction to Dan battling with Drago when there's a chance of him disappearing, it's really likely that she was just watching the battle hoping for the best.

However we can't exactly rule them out as they could have contacted him before they reached the battle arena. (The chances of them having Magnus's contact aren't high but they're not zero due to Magnus teaming up with them at the end of Battle Planet.)

That just leaves Ajit. We don't see him onscreen at all during the battle and as of episode forty-seven part two: Follow Haavik of Armored Alliance, it's known that Magnus and Ajit get along. Due to that I think it'd make the most sense if Ajit was the one who'd contacted Magnus. He had the opportunity to contact him and there's a chance he has contact with him because they get along.

(Proof that they get along? Ajit is actually the only person Magnus has ever been shown to talk casually, calmly and honestly with, without it being an act. Magnus respected Ajit and signaled that he accepted him as a teammate in their battle against Haavik. Ajit had flashbacks to his battle against Magnus when he was deciding whether he chooses to be a thief or a brawler, Ajit joked around a bit with Magnus in episode 47 and he followed him to help him out with following Haavik. They get along)

Okay, I've been talking about episode four for a while now. Let's move on to episode eight, part one: Magnus of the wild.

To summarize the episode, The Awesome Brawlers are discussing the events that'd taken place the day before when Magnus shows up at Studio D, he gives a backstory explaining where he's been then challenges Dan to a battle. Playing dumb and claiming to not believe the AB when they tell him Dan isn't there. Lia and Ajit offer to battle in Dan's place and Magnus much to everyone's surprise accepts their challenge. Magnus reveals Nillious's new form and the battle of Magnus Vs Ajit, Lia and Lightning begins. After attacking once Pincitaur falls asleep leaving just Fennica and Ferascal to battle Nillious. A geocore appears and Magnus uses it to summon a Geogan and defeat Ajit, Lia and Lighting. After Hyenix disappears and Nillious returns, Wynton and Shun take on Magnus. Seconds before he's wiped out, Nillious uses shadow breath to destroy the drome. Magnus and Nillious lose but it's revealed that it was all part of their plan and Magnus had never intended to win. In fact he was planning to lose so he could go to Vestroia and find Dan.

Notice the inconsistency? Once again Magnus knew something he shouldn't have. The Awesome Brawlers never tell him that Dan's gone to Vestroia and the closest they get to saying anything about that is Shun saying "We need to figure out a way to save Dan and Drago." and that's after Magnus has started his act so he must've known beforehand. He'd even started his act before the AB told him Dan wasn't there and that they don't know where he is. And since it's revealed in the end that he was acting so he could purposefully lose and go find Dan in Vestroia. The exact quote being "You got that right. I know Dan grabbed Drago's Bakuball and disappeared along with him. And I'm doing the same thing to find them. Now I'm on my way to Vestroia."

The Awesome Brawlers wouldn't have posted the video online and they couldn't have, at the beginning of the episode Wynton had only just finished editing all the footage together and also according to Wynton, it's only been a day since Dan disappeared into Vestroia so news of Dan being missing couldn't have spread to Magnus through the media.

So someone must've told him.

Since no one other than the AB (and maybe Dan's parents) know what happened, it must've been one of them who told Magnus. Once again I think this could've been Ajit. 

Assuming Magnus and Ajit exchanged numbers or some form of contact, it'd make a lot of sense for Ajit who likely has abandonment issues from losing his parents then losing the person who was like a father to him to reach out to someone after his closest friend has gone missing. Dan and Ajit are literally roommates and close friends, Dan was Ajit's first friend, imagine how badly Ajit must've gone through it after Dan disappeared, people leaving him is probably his biggest fear and the person closest to him just disappeared!

Going off on that Ajit would've probably been so filled with anxiety and dread that Dan's gone forever he wouldn't have been able to sleep and normally when he feels like that he'd be able to look over to where Dan is snoring and remember that no matter what has happened in his past he still has Dan and the AB, but if Dan was gone… He'd probably be too nervous to message anyone else in the AB because if Dan's gone who's to say they won't disappear too. So he probably confides in the only person he can trust, Magnus. He'd probably feel safe confiding in Magnus because they both know what it's like to be abandoned and Ajit knows that while Magnus isn't always there, he's a reliable person who's always there when it's needed. (For example, how Magnus appears in dangerous situations like when Dan was under Haavik's control but he doesn't stick around for long after or the more recent time when Magnus appeared to fight the ones who had literally kidnapped his sister).

So Ajit likely confided in Magnus over text and together they came up with the plan for Magnus to pretend to want to battle Dan then lose on purpose and go to Vestroia to find him. Magnus would help Ajit because he respects both him and Dan (As seen in all the times he saved Dan, the time he didn't stop Ajit from stealing because he'd rather battle him and the times he's teamed up with both of them).

Then Magnus and Ajit would act like it wasn't all planned out during the events of episode eight, part one.

Although I've already explained my theory on why I think it would be Ajit, I'll also explain why I don't think Wynton, Shun or Lia would've been the ones to tell Magnus.

Wynton and Shun have each other to talk to. (As seen in part two of episode eight.) They'll talk to each other about how worried they are and comfort each other. While Lia is a lot more likely to keep things to herself or talk to her Bakugan about it than confide her worries to someone she barely knows.

Ajit is the only member of the AB other than Dan who actually knows Magnus, there was one moment at the end of Battle Planet when Wynton seemed to be seeing Magnus for who he really is but that was the only time, while Dan has risked his life for and has had his life in the hands of Magnus. And as mentioned earlier, Ajit can understand Magnus and his battle against Magnus was one of the reasons he decided to become a Brawler and to quit being a thief. And since Dan was in Vestroia he can't have been the one who told Magnus.

So there we have it. That's my theory, sure it's pretty far fetched and in some places it devolves entirely into headcanon territory there it is. Ajit is the reason Magnus knew what was happening those two times in Geogan Rising. While this is probably, most likely, wrong. At least consider the idea. The two were getting along really well in episode forty-seven of Armored Alliance but since then there's been no mention of their friendship or that they know each other at all. Which just doesn't make sense to me as they made a seriously powerful team in battle and got along so well and there's just been no mention of it since?!? Not to mention how if someone didn't tell Magnus what happened both of these times then how else could he have possibly known about Dan going to Vestroia? The chances of him seeing the livestream are small but there for episode four, but in episode eight? There's really no explanation other than a plothole or Magnus just overhearing the AB's conversation when he went to Studio D to battle Dan.

So yeah that was my theory. I had to rewatch episode four part two, two times and rewatch episode eight part one, three times to help me gather all the evidence to support my theory. Worth it though, those episodes are great and I managed to notice something in episode eight I wouldn't have noticed otherwise and I got this theory from it sndjndjdnsjs

[the-fiction-witch]

Hide Me

TV SHOW: DOCTOR WHO COUPLE: TIMOTHY LATIMER X READER RATING: SWEET AF

I hid quickly behind a stone wall in this little French village, there was an attack on our camp and... like a little coward I ran. But two of them spotted me across the moors and gave case on there little motorbike.

"siehst du ihn?" he asked

"Nein, britisches Wiesel huschte" The other said

I held my breath trying to make sure they wouldn't spot me, they drove off so I doubled back trying to find my way back to the camp but I ended up getting lost in the dark vast French fields, often having to hide in mud and behind tree's when I heard the gurgling of that motorbike, I light across the fields so I did my best to run but as I did I heard the bike behind me,

"Da drüben!" One yelled I heard gun shots but I kept running trying to avoid where I thought they where, Until I felt a impact on my leg bringing me to the floor

"AAHHH FUCK!" I yelled in pain as I laid in the mud my leg heavily bleeding, it was agony but then I heard the bike stop and the two men got off in there dark green uniforms

" Sollen wir ihn erledigen?" One asked putting his gun barrel to the back of my head

"No! no please..." I Whined

"Nein, das wäre Gnade. Lass ihn ausbluten." The other smirked,

He took his gun away and the two went back on there bike turning it around spraying me with mud and shit and scurrying off leaving me to die. as soon as they where out of sight I did my best using all my strength to crawl though the dirt towards the light on the hill, It was a farm, with a tall wooden farm house and a barn. the light was a candle in the barn window, I crawled into the barn and sat up against a bale of hay in the flickering candle light checking my leg over,

"Ohh fuck... that's bad, that's bad" I said in shock seeing my leg covered in blood my pants torn, one bullet or perhaps more deep in my skin, I didn't want to look at it. It was then I noticed I could hear music, there was a radio on, I could heard singing someone sat singing along to the radio. "Hello? Someone here?"

suddenly the music stopped, there was a landing above me where the light was coming from with a ladder I saw bare feet stepping down and a long dress and a braid of beautiful y/h/c hair. she was a French girl that was obvious, she turned to see me holding the ladder between her hands, I did my best not to look at the .... low cut top of her dress but I couldn't deny my eyes lingered there after so long at war. "soldate?" she asks

"Please, Please I know I'm trespassing, please don't hurt me, you have to hide me, they'll come back tomorrow to check I'm dead, they'll see I'm gone, please you have to hide me" I begged her but she looked confused "Do you speak English?"

"English?"

"Yes, Yes do you speak English?"

"Tiny" she says as she came closer and she saw my leg, she cooed and kneeled down beside me looking me over "Vous avez été abattu"

"I was shot" I told her "More then once I think"

"Shot" she nods making a little gun with her fingers and I nodded smiling slight at her "You... English?" she asks carefully

"I'm English," I nodded showing her my jacket and she seemed happy but worried

"Papa... doesn't like English."

"You're father?" I asked and she nods "You don't have to help me,"

"I help, I like English" she smiled "Y/n, Y/n Y/l/n"

"Tim, Timothy Latimer" I smiled to her

"I help" she smiled fixing my hair for me, "clean up" she says tapping my knee I nodded so she got up and hurried out of the barn,

Well... I got lucky.

when she returned she had a little jug of warm steaming water and a little wash cloth, she sat beside me gently tugging my pant's leg up, she blushed a little but so did I, "I sorry" she says taking my hand before gently dabbing the cloth around my leg to clean away the mud and blood, I hissed holding her hand as it strung and hurt so much, I could almost feel the bullets in my skin whenever she put pressure on, I tried not to swear or move I didn't want to make it worse or appear ungrateful for her help, until she was finished and she smiled at me

"Thank you y/n" I smiled to her

"Its okay" she nods getting something from her pocket a little roll of bandage she wrapped my leg up and offered her hand

"I uhh I don't think I can walk"

"I carry"

"I don't think you can carry me y/n"

"I carry" she says so I let her help me up even if it hurt having to not put any weight on my leg at all and she smiled letting me wrap and arm around her letting me put my weight on her as I needed to, she helped me up to the landing even if it hurt to move where there was a little make shift bed, a little radio, a candle and a few other things she helped me to the bed and handed me a little knitted blanket, "I'll bring tea in the morn" she smiled kissing my head before she hurried off back to the little house.

I had been in this little barn for a few days now, I had to keep hidden durring the day as sometimes other people would come in and out of the barn but as soon as the sun went down y/n would come into the barn and sit with me, she would bring me dinner, and sit listening to the radio together, she would read with me, I helped her learn more English and she helped me to learn a little French, she made sure know one found me and would sit with me when the sounds of planes and motorbikes could be heard around the place, she even sat and knitted with me, she made me a sweet soft little jumper to keep me warm some nights when it gets cold, but tonight I was afraid, I knew it had to happen but I was still worried. she held my hand and often tried to calm me down, as she wrapped the tie around my leg "I'm Sorry" she says

"It's okay, you have to, I don't want to think of what will happen if you don't" I told her

she nodded and smiled giving my head a little kiss "I'll be as careful as I can"

"Its fine, do it" I told her putting my leather strap from my guns holster in my mouth, I tried so hard to bite hard on it, looking at the roof of the barn trying not to focus on the crippling pain as she dug her little knife around in my wounds, digging out the bullets I tried my hardest not to scream she was doing her best digging with her knife and working with her little tongs to remove the bullets, I tried my best not to react to much to the pain until it was over and she wrapped up my leg

"all better" she smiled

"Thank you y/n" I smiled

"You're welcome timothy" she smiled as she cleaned up everything, "You're all good, and you need bed rest" she says

"Y/n, really... Id be dead if it wasn't for you. thank you so much"

"It's alright Timothy, Happy to help" she smiled giving my nose a little kiss but I held her hand

"Could you... stay with me tonight?"

"Id love to" she smiled, blowing out the little candle and standing at the end of the little bed I smiled tugging my blanket around me and she happily came over and climbed into the little bed with me, I smiled and happily made space for her in the little bed tucking the covers around her too, she smiled and gently rested her head on my arm and her hand on my shirt, I happily wrapped my arms around her pulling her close "Goodnight timothy" "Goodnight y/n" I smiled pulling her close and giving her lips a gentle kiss, she happily and excitedly kissed me back till she pulled back "whoa..."

"Ummm" she smiled widely happily pulling on my shirt to pull me back to kiss her "Timothy.. I uhh I really- hope you get better"

"Yeah that uhh that would be good"

"all though, I wouldn't mind if it took a while" she smiled stroking her hand across my chest

"Yeah, I wouldn't mind if it did either. My little flower" I smiled

I stood infront of her barn in the darkness, my leg had healed and I had to get back and find who I could as much as I wanted to sit and wait out the rest of the war in her arms, I had to go back, it broke my heart to leave her, I stood in the grass holding her close I never wanted to let her go.

"I'll miss you" she says

"I'll miss you more, I promise I'll write to you"

"I promise I'll write too, You'll... come back won't you?"

"I promise I'll come back my little flower, I won't stop thinking about you for a moment"

"You won't?"

"Of course not. I shall keep you in my mind, and as soon as the war is over I'll come back and... take you back to England with me"

"You really mean it?"

"I promise."

"Then I shall keep watch for you." she smiled "Please be careful"

"I shall do my best" I told her giving her sweet lips a kiss, I never wanted to pull away but.. I had to. the longer I stayed the further the army would get, and the longer I was here the more she was in danger. I pulled away wiping a tear from her eye, giving her head a kiss before I stepped away letting out hands be dragged apart, taking my things and heading towards the woods

"Timothy!" she called making me stop "I love you"

"... You- You what?!" I yelled back in shock

"I love you" she smiled widely tears in her eyes

"I- I love you too!" i yelled back overjoyed to hear her say those words I wanted to run into her arms and kiss her never ever leave her marry her and make babies with her I never wanted to take another step away from this barn in my whole life "I love you! I love you! I love you so much my little flower!"

"I'll see you soon" she smiled blowing me a kiss

"I'll see you soon my flower" I smiled blowing her a kiss back.

I smiled as I saw the barn just as I had remembered it, I saw the door open quickly and I threw my bag on the grass as I saw her run out the barn door, I smiled so widely running to her picking her up in my arms holding her as close as I could, I had missed her so badly, her face, her hair, her skin, her smell I could have cried overjoyed to see her again.

"I've missed you, so badly" she smiled

"Words cannot explain how much I have missed you my little flower." I told her giving her lips a sweet kiss

"I'm happy your back timothy"

"I'm happy to be back too y/n" I smiled caressing her sweet face "But before anything else, I have... something to ask you?"

"what is it?" "Y/n? will you marry me my little flower?"

"Ohh timothy! of course I will!"

"You mean it?"

"Of course I do"

"I love you so much"

"I love you too" I told her "Go pack your things, were going home"

"To England?"

"Home to England my little flower."