#i really wanted there to be like a bunch more villagers it felt appropriate

[ghostcrows]

They have got to fucking add bulk crafting to acnh it is ridiculous that they haven't like that is one of the most basic crafting qol mechanics possible. I'm really hoping in general that we might get at least one more major update..it could happen I mean look at the welcome amiibo update and how long after the game came out they released that

[mountkennedie]

Carvings

Anakin Skywaker x fem!reader

Summary: Carving pumpkins with Anakin

Warnings: none

A.N. I'm making this a series

You were both in town today. You wanted some fresh candles to set the mood of the season. And Anakin took every opportunity to go outside. He thought that just the outskirts of town were lovely during this time of year, but how he was mistaken. The small city closest to your house was, in its own way, beautiful.

The rich smell of the fresh fruits, perfumes, and spices, all accented with the leaves on their roofs. You walked hand in hand at a slow pace. You both wanted to take everything in, and you really didn't want to miss any chances of smelling some nice candles. You already had found two that you liked. but you still wanted one more.

After a few steps forward, something orange caught your eyes. Then many orange things followed it. "Anakin, look!" You forget your strength sometimes. You dragged your lover over to the place you pointed at. "They have pumpkins," your voice was full of glee. Anakin didn't understand the hype but smiled due to your excitement.

"Yes, they're very nice," he spoke warmly.

"We must get some. At least one or two!" You were already crouched down, inspecting some.

"But your candles?" He asked, still holding the bag.

"We can come back for the third, but this is much more important. I will teach you more things people do in this season!" He loved the sound of that. He crouched down next to you.

"How do you pick them?" He was eyeing each one he saw. He had one his eyes kept returning to, but he didn't know if it was a good choice or not.

"it doesn't really matter. As long as the skin is strong, it's a good choice," you responded. You had already picked yours. It was lopsided with a curled stem. It was not too big it was about half the size of your torso. Anakin reached out to hold it, but you insisted you had it.

He went over and picked up his choice. it was traditional and round, nearly the size of his torso, though it had to carry some insane weight. But being Anakin, he made it look light. "How's this one?"

You gasped, "Perfect, Ani, perfect." He smiled to himself. Then you went up to the shopkeeper and paid for your pumpkins. The walk home felt longer than usual, no doubt due to the new weight of your orange friends. After clearing the village, Anakin used the force to hold the two pumpkins.

"That is not appropriate," you shook your head playfully.

"No one here to condemn us, is there?" He joked.

Upon returning home, he asked, "Where do you want them, boss?"

"Hold them up for a few more moments," you ran off into the house. Grabbing a bunch of towels and black markers, you then moved the kitchen table out of the way. You laid the towels out on the floor and then turned to him, "On the towels, please."

"Yes, ma'am," Anakin gently placed the pumpkins in the center of the towels. You then got up and headed to the knife holder in the kitchen. You looked for the best one to carve, but then had an idea.

"My love, do you have your lightsaber on you?"

Anakin, who just watched you go through the knives, had an idea as to why you ask. "Of course." He reached to his belt and took the saber in hand.

You looked back at him with a mischievous look in your eye. "Good." You went to the bathroom to find some cleaning gloves and got a pair for the both of you. You handed him his and put yours on.

You both kneeled down in front of your pumpkin first. "Lightsaber?" You held out your hand.

"No," he said quickly.

Looking up at him a little defeated, "Why not?"

"That is not appropriate," he said, mocking you. "I really don't want you to hurt yourself." You huffed in response, but he ignored it. "What do you want me to cut?"

"The ring around the top of the pumpkin, just the top." He nodded and kindly asked you to step back. The blue light filled the room for a moment, and then, when it ceased, the pumpkin was sliced perfectly. "So much better than I thought," you kissed his forehead in gratitude. You then instructed him to do the same with his own pumpkin.

Now that the heads were removed, you brought the trash can closer to the two of you. "Now is the reason why we need the gloves. You see all of those seeds?" He looked inside, then hummed in agreement. "They all have to go." He smirked and sighed.

You both worked at it for a while. "How are there so many?" He asked. He had been consistently pulling away at them, only to find more in their place.

"Exactly why no one goes for the big ones," you joked.

"And you let me walk away with it! No wonder it was on sale," he laughed at his ignorance.

"We all had to learn the hard way," you said, laughing along with him.

After the seeds were removed, you both had to stop for a water break. "You're sure people like doing this?" He asked after draining two glasses.

"Not that part," you began after finishing your glass, "the next part."

You both returned to the kitchen floor, where your pumpkins lay gutted. You grabbed the markers you left there and handed one to him. "Now some people like a more traditional design like this," you scribbled some triangles and a strange grin. "However, this year, I'm feeling different." On top of the triangles, you drew large stars for eyes. "I think for your first time, I think you should stick with traditional. Unless you had anything else in mind."

He shook his head in response. He had a sweet smile on his face as you handed him the marker. He did his best to recreate the face you made and did a pretty good job of it.

"Now we get to carve, which used to be so grueling." You placed a hand on his lightsaber, "But not anymore." Anakin raised his eyebrows at your boldness. He still shook his head at the thought of you operating his saber. "C'mon, this once?"

He sighed, "On one condition," you perked up, "I guide you." You agreed immediately.

You started with his first, since it was his first time. He faced the pumpkin at a good cutting angle and then came behind you. "Hold it with both hands," he said. You followed his word and placed both hands on the hilt. His hands came and rested on top of yours. "Now ignite." When you did, you gasped a little, but other than that, maintained composure. He slowly guided you through the first triangle. Then, for the next, he let you have more control. When it got to doing just the mouth, Anakin's hands fell from yours and onto your waist.

When you finished it, he sighed in relief. "Amazing, angel," he said in a proud voice. You turned to do your own pumpkin, and his hands stayed on your waist. You felt a bead of sweat slide down your face as you concentrated. The finished product looked just like the design. You couldn't have been happier. Anakin placed a kiss on your forehead in a small celebration.

"Now what?" He asked after you both cleaned up all the mess and put the kitchen back the way it was.

"Now, I get to use these!" You held up two small battery-powered lights. "Close the curtains over there, and I'll get these." Once the room was in darkness, you turned lights on and placed them in the newly carved pumpkins. The faces showed brightly.

Anakin gasped, and you saw his dull, lit face was full of excitement. "We can go ahead and put them outside now," you said, breaking him out of his mini trance.

You both walked to the door with your now, much lighter pumpkins. Anakin placed his on one side of the poach. You placed yours on the other when he saw that his brows furrowed. You looked up at him, mirroring his expression. "Why are they so far apart?" He asked in a small voice. He playfully pouted, and you rolled your eyes.

You both moved your pumpkins to the center of the poach, right next to each other. "You're too much, Mr. Skywalker," you mused. His arm found its way around your waist, pulling you to him.

"I do it all for you, Mrs. Skywalker." You huffed one last time at the cheesy line. Then, you both brought your lips over the others. And the breeze of the autumn evening only accented the blooming energy between you two.

[furbyfubar]

While I appreciate hearing about this solution, anyone wanting to play a Mafia-like game without player elimination should check out One Night Ultimate Werewolf! It has only one night where things change and players are given information, one day where players can share information and deduce who's who, and a single voting round. It sounds like it really shouldn't work, but it absolutely does! The main rule change needed to make it work is that just because you started the night as a werewolf doesn't have to mean you are on the werewolf team when the night ends.

Everyone can get a special role that either does something during the night or has some other advantage. This removes the issue of not having any info but still having to figure out how to get someone else killed so you're not the one removed early on in the game. That issue is the one that I've felt the most problematic with playing normal Mafia/Werewolf in a camp setting, as it's typically easier to get a player who's less liked by the player group to be killed early; this can be/feel a bit too close to bullying if it means everyone's not on equal footing even before the game starts. But in ONUW, since the game's over after the only round of voting, you're no longer voting for player elimination. There are also several ways to win even if you get the most votes in the end. So it's a bad strategy to not vote based on the info you're given, and more importantly, the info you figure out by listening during the day. The game's played with an app that does the job of the narrator/storyteller, so everyone can actively play. Plus there's a bunch of different roles you can swap in and out between games to stop the meta from becoming stale, especially if you get an expansion. A single game can be played in under 15 minutes, so we typically play a bunch of games in a single session. (Otherwise the rules explanation can take longer than the first game if someone's playing for the first time.)

The box says 3-10 players, and while that's technically true, with 3-4 players you get a lot of non-games where everyone has either too much or too little information to make the game work. But it really does work as a social deduction game with only 5 players. With an expansion it's also possible to go above 10 players. I highly recommend One Night Ultimate Werewolf and its first expansion Daybreak. There are also a few stand alone games in the series that can also be combined with the base game for more chaos. Of them I don't really recommend One Night Ultimate Vampires due to adding extra components that overly complicates things. One Night Ultimate Aliens also adds complexity, but in a much better way, as you can chose to include however many or few roles from it as is appropriate for your play group without also having to add any other components. One Night Ultimate Super Villains is more of a re-implementation and re-theme of the roles from the base game and Daybreak. So it has a few new mechanically new things, but not enough to be worth buying if you own the base game.

So Mafia is easily like, camp game of all time, but the bummer is that in most variations the “ghosts” can’t do much once their character is killed.

My campers have remedied this by making sure that every “night,” when the town “sleeps” they find the largest and most outrageous object they can move silently into the center of the circle so everyone will laugh when they wake up.

[phoenixyfriend]

Fact: Obi-Wan, at least in Legends, was a war general at age thirteen, leading children in the single digits into battle, burying other child soldiers, experiencing the full horror of war before he was old enough to shave, and without adult protection or his primary weapon.

Caveat: This adventure, and many others in the series, was structured in a manner appealing to the target audience: twelve-year-olds seeking a character they could project onto, a hero they could pretend to be without having to deal with an adult keeping them out of the action. Due to the series being designed with that in mind, the relation these series have with actual canon, even before Legends was retconned out, is generally assumed to be tenuous at the best of times.

Fact: Satine grew up in a civil war and her decision to become a pacifist at the head of the New Mandalorians is heavily informed by the violence that she and her people experienced for so long, including a year spent dodging assassination at every turn with Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon Jinn.

Assumption: Satine regularly uses 'no more too-small bodies dead in our streets' as one of her most heartfelt pieces of rhetoric, as a thing that is both far too real to her and the most relatable to a wide audience, since it is an extreme but also a reality, and thus something that centrists and even some traditionalists can agree with, not just the liberal reform party that she belongs to.

Conclusion: Part of why Obi-Wan fell in love with Satine is because he lived through the exact kind of horror that she was trying to prevent, and she related to his traumas (if from a greater distance, having been nobility) and treated them with the appropriate gravitas. He was a child soldier in a civil war, and the core of her political platform is preventing wars, both civil and imperial, that could escalate to such a point of senseless violence as Melida/Daan. While Obi-Wan continues to engage in violence as self-defense and in defense of others, his respect for Satine's political views is actually greater than it would be for almost anyone else he knows (except maybe Bail Organa), and his actions of violence as a Jedi attempting to prevent harm in contrast to her refusal to engage in anything but the absolute most minor acts of violence (e.g. throwing a rock at someone's blaster hand, stun bolts, etc) is actually a relatively minor quibble when seen in the light of how the two of them likely bonded over their similar sets of traumas and ideological ideals as teenagers born of war.

Addendum: Satine must have felt really fucking betrayed that Obi-Wan had gone from 'using violence in a short period of time to prevent greater acts of violence or even genocide, as part of his duties as a Jedi protecting the weak' to 'war general leading a slave army in a conflict that seems incredibly pointless from the outside, even before you know about the Sith stuff.' They bonded over being children in warzones who'd grown up wanting wars to not happen! This isn't Satine looking the other way as Obi-Wan helps back up a slave revolution, this is just! The kind of stupid war they said they hated! Drafted or not, she feels hurt and betrayed that Obi-Wan's in this situation.

Addendum to the addendum: I think Satine would have been less judgemental about Obi-Wan's position if she'd known about some of the truly horrific acts the Separatist side was committing (e.g. Blue Shadow Virus, the WMD in Aayla's episode with the monkey people, the 'round up the villagers as human shields and take everything they have of any value also maybe let's sell a bunch of them'), and Obi-Wan's feelings of obligation towards preventing that even if the larger conflict wasn't necessarily something he agreed with.

[theresthesnitch]

The Time Between

deleted scenes from one last time (never enough)

Below is a selection of the scenes I wrote but cut from the five years apart. These were mostly cut for space, but also because this wasn’t where I wanted the story to go. I wanted it to be a small glimpse into their lives in those years, and how they were struggling. As I mentioned in an ask response, I had a whole bunch of additional scenes I never wrote that could have honestly been a whole fic in and of itself.

twenty weeks after the end

Lily rolled out the dough into a thin, even layer. She pressed the biscuit cutter into the dough, leaving eight clean hearts behind. She carefully extracted each heart, placing it on the prepared baking sheet. Lily pinched a bit of the sugar crystals between her finger, rubbing them together to distribute the—

Oh. Lily's hand flew to her stomach. That was new. It felt, um, wrong? Like a little flutter. Was it supposed to feel like that? 

Lily had never wished more for her mother to be close by than she did now. Her mother would surely be able to tell her if this was something to be concerned about. She had attended appointments at the muggle doctor, but they tried to otherwise limit their time in the village. They couldn't really be sure it was safe. An extra trip for a small flutter was hardly worth it. 

Lily abandoned the biscuits half finished on the counter, retreating to the cool, dim quiet of the sitting room. She sat on the couch, hand pressed to her stomach, not sure if she was hoping to feel it again or not to. It didn’t return for a long, long time. 

***

It turns out that the taskforce was a lot less action that James had anticipated and a lot more like studying for N.E.W.T.s—which made it particularly unfortunate that James and Sirius were strictly restricted from sharing any information about it with Remus. If anyone could have sorted through all of these books and notes and figured out just what the hell Voldemort was doing, it was Remus. 

They didn’t understand until one Thursday afternoon when Remus came back from meeting with Dumbledore while James and Sirius were neck deep in musty copies of library books. Remus ignored them and went straight for the small bar they kept in the corner of their shared flat, pulling out a nearly full bottle of scotch and not even bothering to find a glass before he took a swig. 

Sirius and James exchanged a look of raised eyebrows, followed by a glance at the clock. Two o’clock was awfully early to hit the bottle that hard.

“Tough meeting?”

Remus let out a hard laugh, humorless and full of exasperation. “You could say that. I know why he wouldn’t let me on the taskforce now.” 

Sirius stood, taking a step toward Remus. “What did he say?”

“I’m not supposed to talk about it,” Remus took another swig, “but he has a project for me that only I can do. No one else has the appropriate skills, as it were, to blend in.” 

The room went silent. James swallowed hard, biting back the fear rising in his belly at what Remus wasn’t saying. 

Werewolves.

***

“Lily? Are you here?”

Lily was still on the couch, sitting in the near darkness of twilight. She didn’t answer, unsure if her voice could even be heard. A moment later, Mary walked into the sitting room, waving her wand to flick on the recessed lights, her magic spreading down the track to illuminate the room. Mary jumped when she saw Lily sitting in the room. 

“Merlin, Lily. You scared me half to death! What are you doing in here? Did you not hear me call you?”

Lily looked up at her friend, the stiffness in her neck letting her know it was the first time that she had moved in—how long had she been here? Hours?—since she sat down. Lily worried her lip between her teeth, trying to find the words to tell Mary what had happened. 

“Lily, what’s wrong?”

“I, uh—” Lily paused, and sighed heavily. “I felt—something earlier, and I’m not— I think something is wrong.” 

Mary knelt in front of her, replacing Lily’s hand on her stomach. “Here? What did you feel?”

“Um,” Lily tried to clear her brain of the fog of worry that had settled in there. “A flutter, maybe. Or a bump?”

Mary smiled. “Like butterfly wings?”

Lily looked at her friend blankly. “Yeah, kind of, I guess.” 

Mary’s smile widened. “I think the baby is moving, Lily.” 

Lily’s hand was back on her stomach. “Really? You think the baby is moving? How do you know? Isn't it too early? Why hasn’t it moved again?”

“The doctor gave me a book to read. You didn’t seem ready for it, but I thought one of us should know.” Mary ran her hand over Lily’s belly again. “It’s supposed to be pretty sparse for the first few days, but eventually the baby will move all the time. The baby is just little now.” 

Lily ran her hand along her stomach again, no longer afraid but now amazed at what the little bump could mean. Her baby was there—really there. This was real. This piece of her and of James growing inside of her and—

And Lily was once again wishing the war would end so that she could share moments like this with James. 

***

“He can’t make you do that.” Sirius was now standing in front of Remus, practically yelling in his fear. “You can’t go.” 

Remus stood his ground, facing down an emotional and flustered Sirius. “Do you think I want to go? Do you think that I would choose this? I don’t want to!” 

“So don’t!”

James felt a bit like he was invading a private argument, as though he was not also friends with them and they were not having this fight in front of him. Which was crazy, because it shouldn’t feel like a private moment that would exclude him. They were all friends, equally, and James cared about Remus’s well being just as much as Sirius did. 

“I don’t have a choice. He’s right. There’s no one else who can do this. It has to be me.” Remus began rubbing the still raised skin of the scar that showed just under his sleeve cuff. 

“But you could get hurt!”

“If I don’t go, others will get hurt. I might be able to help.” Remus took a step toward Sirius, his hand outstretched slightly, palm up. 

“You can’t go because I can’t lose you.” 

A heavy quiet fell over the room, and it felt like the room was charged with electricity that had the potential to burn them all to the ground. 

Before anything could happen, however, Sirius turned and walked straight out the front door to the flat.

“Sirius, wait.” Remus took a step to follow him, but Sirius closed the door behind him. Remus was left standing, watching the door as though it might open again if he just waited. It did not. 

“Remus?”

His back was to James, so James didn’t even know that Remus was crying until he raised a hand and wiped his face. “It’s fine. He’s just worried. He’ll be back.” 

“When do you have to go?”

Remus turned to face James, and neither of them addressed the redness in his eyes. “Tomorrow. I’ll be gone for two weeks.” 

The full moon was a week away, so Remus would be gone a week before and a week after the moon. “Will you be able to let us know you are safe?”

Remus shook his head, and James could see him swallow before he spoke. “I don’t think it would be safe, but I’ll be fine. I’ll be back in two weeks.” 

“Please be safe.” James looked toward the door again. “We’ll both miss you.” 

Remus took another drink from the whiskey bottle in his hand. “Me too.” 

He walked out of the room and back toward his bedroom, and James was left thinking about Remus and Sirius and the way James didn’t quite understand what just happened. And, for some inexplicable reason, James missed Lily deep in his bones. 

This war needed to end soon. 

***

seven months after the end

It wasn’t enough. 

Lily had read the books and knew that this was a likely side effect of pregnancy. It was just something that people dealt with, though most people weren’t locked in a small cabin, away from their partner and anyone else who might be able to relieve this tension. 

She should be able to take care of it herself. She had never had trouble with that before, but she felt so uncomfortable in her body with her growing stomach and the way her body was softening in other areas. She struggled to get the right angle and the right motion and the right feeling. 

And now she was crying because she couldn’t bring herself to orgasm, and what the hell was she supposed to do now?

“Lily? Are you alright?”

Lily quickly covered herself with the blankets as Mary opened the door to her room and walked in. She sniffed, wiping her face. “I’m fine.” 

Mary froze in the doorway, looking at Lily in the dim light from the hallway. Lily wondered what she looked like—could Mary see her red, tear-stained cheeks? Could she tell how upset Lily was?

“Lil, I can tell you’re not. Could you tell me what’s wrong?”

Lily shook her head. “It’s stupid.” 

“If you’re crying, it’s not stupid.” Mary walked in and sat on the edge of her bed. “Tell me. Maybe I can help.”

Lily covered her face with her hands. “You’ll laugh at me.” 

“I promise I won’t.”

“I can’t—come.” 

Lily moved her hands from her face just in time to see Mary’s look of surprise. “I’m sorry?”

“I’m so fucking horny because of this stupid fucking baby and the stupid fucking hormones, but I can’t get myself there. If we weren’t here, or if James was here, I could just get him to fuck me.” Lily threw her hands out in frustration, then grabbed the top of her blanket and pulled under her chin. “I’m fine. I’ll get over it. It’s not something you can help me with.” 

Mary cocked her head to the side. “It’s not?”

Lily’s eyes snapped to Mary’s. “What?”

“I could help you.” Mary reached her hand up and grabbed Lily’s hand. “I could help you get off.” 

“I—um.” Lily felt like her mind was reeling. What did this mean?

“Only if you want.” Mary shrugged. “It doesn’t have to mean anything. Just an orgasm.” 

“You would want to?”

“Lily, we’ve been here for more than half a year, and there’s no telling how long we’ll be here. Other than you, the only people we’ve really seen are Dr. Johnson and Ms. Meyer at the grocers. I don’t know about you, but I’m not keen on either of them touching me.” Mary shivered, as though the thought was actually repulsive. “I would really like to touch and be touched again, if you want that to.” 

Lily rubbed a hand across her forehead, considering what Mary was offering. “I don’t think— It wouldn’t—” Lily sighed, then started again. “I’m not sure that I could promise you anything, relationship wise. I still love James, and I want to see if we can make things work when the war is finally over. I couldn’t promise you anything more than— than—” 

“An orgasm?” Mary was smiling widely now. 

Lily felt a light blush color her cheeks, and she was suddenly very aware that she was naked and Mary was sitting on her bed. “Yeah. Or a few, maybe.” 

Mary shrugged. “That’s all I want right now. If you do?”

Lily threw her head back. “Merlin, yes.” 

Mary laughed. “Well, you first, I think.” 

Lily watched as Mary’s hand slid across her arm and shoulder until she reached the edge of the blanket over her chest. She marveled at the way Mary’s dark skin looked against her pale skin in the soft light from the hallway, as the dim light added to the magic of the moment. 

Mary leaned forward, connecting their lips in a gentle kiss as she slowly lowered the blanket, her hand brushing lightly over Lily’s breasts and bulging stomach, and Lily gasped as Mary’s fingers met Lily’s wetness.

She was so keyed up that it only took a few minutes of careful touches and caresses until Lily was coming by her friend’s hand. Lily was still trembling as Mary pressed gentle kisses on her cheeks and forehead. “Feel better?”

A bubble of surprised laughter escaped Lily’s lips. The release had brought so much clarity to Lily’s mind, but the look in Mary’s eye had her wanting more. “Much. Your turn now.” 

***

For the last several months, James had watched Remus and Sirius carefully dance around each other. There was clearly something more between them than what either of them shared with James, though he was certain that they were trying to hide it from him. He wasn’t clear why. Surely, surely, they knew he would be happy for them. Surely, they knew he wouldn’t hate them or reject them simply because they loved each other?

James watched as Remus brushed a hand along Sirius’s shoulder as he walked to the kitchen with a cooling cup of tea, before going back to acting like they hadn’t touched at all. It was in this moment, as he watched his friends trying to keep their distance that James realized he had to say something. 

James took a deep breath. With Peter out of the flat for work, it seemed like the perfect time. “I’m okay with it, you know.” 

Sirius and Remus both turned to him, twin eyes of confusion pointed his way. “With what?” Sirius finally asked. 

“The two of you. Whatever this is you’re doing. Dating or—or shagging or whatever.” 

Remus began laughing from the kitchen, setting down his mug on the counter before holding himself up with a palm pressed into the counter. Sirius furrowed his brows. “Of course, you’re okay with it. Were we supposed to assume you wouldn’t be?”

James shrugged. “It seems like you’ve been trying to hide it.” 

“Well, sure.” Remus had finally managed to control his laughter from the kitchen. “That’s not because we thought you’d have a problem with it, though.” 

“You didn’t care when Marlene and Dorcas started dating.” Sirius pointed out. “Why would we assume it would be different for us?” 

It was James’s turn to look between his friends in confusion. “Then why are you hiding it?”

Remus and Sirius exchanged a nervous glance at that. “Well, um,” Sirius tucked a piece of hair behind his ear, “because of Lily.”

James’s heart plummeted. It was the first time her name had been spoken aloud—at least to him—since she had left with Mary. “What does she have to do with it?”

Remus sighed. “You’ve been sad since she left, and you haven’t tried to see anyone else. We didn’t want to, I don’t know, rub it in your face that we were together and happy.” 

Remus walked over and took Sirius’s hand, and as Sirius smiled up at him softly, James realized they had been hiding far more than he realized. 

“You don’t have to do that.” James looked down at his hands, linking his fingers together. “I’m sorry you’ve felt the need to. I’m fine, really.”

“James, we haven’t minded.” Remus looked sincere as he said it. “We don’t want to make things harder for you. Not if we can prevent it.” 

“Please don’t hide. There’s—” James felt his throat grow thick, and swallowed once to get past it “—there’s not enough happy in the world right now. We could all use a little more.” 

That was it. From then on, Remus and Sirius didn’t make extra effort to hide from James. James, in turn, tried to ignore the pit in his stomach that wouldn’t go away.

[griffintail]

I had this idea, I dunno if it’s dumb or not, but I figured if anyone knew it would be you! Y’know, cause you seem like you know way more than me about all these mcyt guys and gals? Anyways, I saw that a lot of people headcanon that Shlatt was Tubbo’s dad, and seeing all those dad!Shlatt AUs gave me an idea:

What if after Shlatt’s dead, after things have settled, after Tubbo becomes president and spends most of his time cleaning up the messes and mistakes Shlatt left behind- he discovers he wasn’t Shlatt’s only child. He finds handwritten letters in Shlatt’s files from a distant village, all of them fairly recent, asking him for child support money, or asking him to take “his mistake” with him. But the last letter Tubbo finds is a typed one informing Shlatt that the woman who sent all the previous letters has died, and that he has 1 month to come collect his child, or they’ll become a ward of the state; it’s been roughly 2 and a half weeks since that letter arrived. How would Tubbo react to all of this, and more importantly, would he take on the responsibility of becoming his new sibling’s guardian?

I don’t know how I became the person to come to for this lol. I hope you enjoy!

The Girl with the Horns

Pairings: Brother! Tubbo x Child! F! Reader

Warnings: Mentions of emotional abuse, Implied Buillying, Swearing

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

        Tubbo looked up the old White House building, taking a deep breath before going in. Inside, he immediately scrunched up his nose at the familiar smell of alcohol and cigarette smoke.

        “Damn it, dad.” He muttered under his breath before starting to clean up the building.

        He said he’d clean the building out himself as his father was the one who trashed it and now was that day. A lot of his presidency was cleaning up Schlatt’s mistakes before he even ran the rest of his new country. He sighed as he put another empty bottle in a trash bag. Schlatt had really lost it running things.

        Slowly but surely, Tubbo was able to get the White House to a much cleaner state. He was now in the main office and was searching the drawers for his father's inevitable “secret” booze stashes when he found some handwritten letters tucked in the very back of the drawer. Frowning, Tubbo took them out and saw them all addressed to Schlatt.

        Sitting down, Tubbo read the letter on top and his eyes went wide, back going straight as he reread the words before him.

        I want money for this child you helped bring into this world!

        A child?

        The rest of the letter was talking about asking for child support and Tubbo was floored. Quickly, he read the next letter and it was much of the same, demanding Schlatt to take responsibility.

        “Holy shit…” Tubbo muttered. “I got…I got a sibling?”

        He made his way through the rest of the letters, his heart clenching when the woman writing the letters called his poor sibling a mistake or made stabs at Schlatt.

        Then the last letter was a lot more formal. It was stamped with an official seal and dated. Schlatt had opened it as told by the broken seal but had obviously also put the letter back without a care after reading. Tubbo’s breath hitched as he read the letter though.

          Dear Mr. Jschlatt:

        We are sorry to inform you Miss Trentha has passed in an accident.

        Behind, she has left a five-year-old (Y/N), of which in our records has your name on her birth papers. We will give you a month’s time to make a decision; after, we will have no choice but to send (Y/N) to become a ward of the state.

                Tubbo quickly looked at the date of when the letter was sent.

        “Two and a half weeks!” Tubbo exclaimed as he jumped up. “Shit! What should I do?”

        He looked around the office he had spent time cleaning trying to process everything at once, words failing him. In a few short moments, he had found out he wasn’t an only child, that Schlatt hadn’t even looked back at this girl or her horrible mother, and that the sibling he just found out about was going to become a ward of the state! Schlatt had at least been kind enough to Tubbo to let Philza raise him but this child going into the adoption system…

        “I-I got to run L’Manberg. There’s so much to do.” Tubbo ran a hand through his hair as he panicked.

        But then Tommy’s words echoed in his head.

        You can’t become the next Schlatt.

        Schlatt was obviously going to let this child fend for themselves, Tubbo couldn’t be his father. He had to at least meet them. With a new will, he gathered around his friends, and with reassurances that they had L’Manberg covered, Tubbo set off on a horse to the village. It was a good three-day journey, so he’d only have roughly a week left to make his decision of what he was going to do.

        Coming to the village, Tubbo took a deep breath as he stared at it. What was she going to be like? She probably didn’t have the best raising based on the letters that the mother sent. Tying up the horse outside the main hall, Tubbo went in, going through the various processes to prove that he was indeed Jschlatt’s child and proving that his father was dead.

        After, they took Tubbo to a home where a bunch of children were outside playing but there was one that stood out among them and it wasn’t because she was sitting alone. It was because she had tiny horns on top of her head that were just starting to come in. Tubbo put a hand on his horns that were just starting to curl without thinking.

        “That’s (Y/N).” The man that led him here nodded to the little girl.

        “She’s five, right?” Tubbo asked.

        “Yes. She’s not very talkative, but you can introduce yourself to her.”

        Tubbo had few guesses why she didn’t want to talk. He went over, a few of the other kids were pointing at him. (Y/N) was using a stick to push images in the dirt, looking up when a shadow got in the way of the sun. Tubbo smiled when he saw her surprise when she looked up at him, he sitting next to her, wearing his casual wear rather than his suit.

        “Hi. I’m Tubbo.” He introduced himself to her.

        (Y/N) was silent as she stared obviously at his horns. “You have horns…”

        “Yeah, I do. I’m a ram just like you.”

        “Really?” She met his eyes now.

        “Mhm. I, uh, I actually knew your dad because he was my dad.”

        She shifted as she looked back at the ground. “Daddy was a bad man.”

        Tubbo winced, putting a hand on his neck. “Why do you say that?”

        “Mommy use to say that.”

        “Ah. Well…dad wasn’t the greatest, I agree. It wasn’t nice for him to leave you alone.”

        The little girl was silent and Tubbo tried to think of a subject change.

        “Do you like drawing?”

        She nodded. “Mommy wouldn’t let me use paper but I like drawing in the dirt.”

        “Oh…do you…have any friends?”

        She put a hand on one of her little horns and he immediately understood.

        “I get it.” He smiled gently, putting a hand on his horn. “I didn’t have a lot of friends until I met my best friend Tommy. I’m sure you will find some friends.”

        His heart melted as she gave him her first small smile. “I hope so.”

        He sat with her just talking away, the time passing so fast without either of them knowing as they talked. He felt like he learned so much but so little about her; yet, he loved every moment sitting with her. She had to go back with the other children of the orphanage but within a few hours, Tubbo made up his mind. He couldn’t leave this little girl with everyone else; he’d take her back to L’Manberg.

        So, in the morning, Tubbo put on his suit to be professional and he did the paperwork before waiting for them to bring (Y/N). (Y/N) came in timidly and Tubbo smiled gently as he crouched in front of her.

        “Hey, so, I don’t want to leave without you, would you like to come with me? I can introduce you to a few of my good friends.”

        “…They’re all nice like you, right?”

        He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, a few of them are pretty nice.”

        She looked around but nodded. “Ok.”

        He grinned as he stood up. “Then I’m going to take you back to my home.”

        They got the few things that she owned and Tubbo put them on the horse. After, Tubbo changed into more appropriate riding clothes before getting on with (Y/N).

        “Alright, here we go.” He muttered before getting the horse to go.

        Off they went to L’Manberg, Tubbo making sure they had shelter each night. It was a bit stressful for Tubbo on these few days. He had gotten used to not eating every day but he had to remember now to make sure (Y/N) ate. He also had to remember this was boring as hell for her so he tried his best to make little games as they galloped along. There was a point he went off on a bee tangent for half an hour after spotting one and pouted to himself when he saw (Y/N) had fallen asleep against him but he kept an arm wrapped around her so she didn’t fall off.

        As he got back to L’Manberg, he huffed as he saw Tommy and Fundy arguing as Quackity was laughing, Ranboo standing to the side awkwardly. Yeah, that’s how he expected his cabinet to act with him gone. He tied up his horse, grabbing (Y/N)’s things before taking her hand as he walked over to them. As the pair went over, (Y/N) hide behind him shyly.

        “Guys!” Tubbo called.

        “Tubbo! Tell this furry bitch—” Tommy started.

        “Oh, fuck off Tommy!” Fundy shouted back.

        They started having another go.

        “GUYS!” Tubbo shouted, making (Y/N) jump with the rest of the group. “I have someone for you to meet, so can you shut it?”

        Tommy spotted the little girl peeking out from behind Tubbo, noticing the horns first.

        “Holy shit, she has horns like yours.” Tommy went around Tubbo.

        “Yeah, this is (Y/N), she’s my little sister.”

        “A sister?!” Tommy looked at Tubbo surprised.

        Tubbo nodded. “I adopted her.”

        “I’m sorry?”

        “It’s a long story but I’m back and I’m got to bring her to my house,” Tubbo told them before walking off, feeling the little girl squeeze his hand tighter, probably getting overwhelmed.

        They got to Tubbo’s house and he looked around.

        “Er…You can have my room. I’ll need to make you a room.” He smiled at her.

        “Ok…thank you.”

        He patted her head between her horns. “I couldn’t leave you behind sis. Let’s get you settled in and I can make us some steak. Sound good?”

        She nodded.

        Tubbo knew it would be stressful learning to take care of another human while he had to run a nation but he had his friends to help him. He hoped he could do all this right.

[eyayah-oya]

The Father You’ll Be

Boil/Waxer with a side of Cody/Rex

Rating: G

Warnings: there is brief mention of the cadets dying during the Battle of Kamino. Nothing graphic, but there are mentions.

for @clonehavensotm

Ao3 link

           Boil walked into the barracks and began stripping off his armor, desperately ready to go to sleep.  After a long day of fighting, the 212th and the 501st worked with Rancor to clear up the debris around Kamino, until they’d been awake for approximately two and a half day cycles.  Every step felt heavier than the last, until Boil felt like he was about to fall asleep where he was standing.

           At least, he felt that exhausted until he realized Waxer was no longer behind him.  Nor was he anywhere in the barracks.

           For several moments, Boil debated the merits of just falling into bed without Waxer, but the longer he stood there without knowing where he was, the more agitated he became.  With a heavy sigh and a silent curse, Boil put his armor back on and marched out into the hallways of Kamino.  Several other vod’e tried to reach out and stop him, to try and drag him to bed, but Boil just shrugged off their concerned hands and continued on to the mess hall.

           Boil sighed heavily when he couldn’t find Waxer in the mess hall, nor could he find him back in the area they had been cleaning up. He would not be able to settle down properly until he at least knew where Waxer was and what he was doing.

           There were many places on Kamino that Waxer could be hiding.  He tended to go for a run after a high-risk battle, just to help himself settle.  But he could also have gone to the training halls to work out his energy, as there were most likely plenty of brothers who he could spar against.  Boil really should have expected this kind of reaction from Waxer.  This battle was different from any other they’d fought in before.  There was more at stake, more at risk if they failed.  Worse casualties.  They’d lost far too many ikaade when the droids crashed through one of the domes, and several barracks were overrun by droids—

           Boil froze.

           He knew exactly where Waxer was.

           With a quick about-face, Boil marched towards the Littles’ barracks.  Waxer always had a bleeding heart for anyone who was in need of help, but especially animals and children.  Numa was a perfect example of that (Boil conveniently neglected to remember how enamored he had been by the sweet Twi’lek girl).  After the kind of loss all clones had experienced that day with the death of their vod’ikase and ikaade, Waxer would want to comfort the Littles.

           “Boil?  What are you still doing awake?”

           Commander Cody was leaning against the wall, guarding a doorway with Rex by his side.  They both looked exhausted, especially since they’d been working with Rancor command while Colt and Havoc were in the medbay getting patched up.  Boil did not envy their jobs.  The two of them were effectively coordinating three battalions in the cleanup efforts with the help of Commander Blitz and ARC Hammer.  They were also the ones dealing with the casualty reports.

           “Sir,” Boil snapped off a salute.  “Just going to find Waxer, sir.”

           Cody’s brow furrowed.  “He’s not with you?  I thought I assigned the two of you to the same work crews.”

           “You did, sir,” Boil answered.  “I got to the barracks and turned around and he wasn’t there.  I have a pretty good idea of where he disappeared to, though.”

           With a strained look in his eyes, Cody nodded.  It was likely that he, too, had guessed where Waxer was, and the Commander definitely wouldn’t get mad at either of them for being in the littlest cadet dorms.  “Make sure he gets some sleep tonight.  A pile of Littles will probably help more with that than anything else at this point. Hell, I might even join you later. We lost too many of them today, and it’ll be nice to see them and make sure they’re holding up well.”

           “I’m sure they’d love that,” Rex murmured.  “The Great Marshal Commander Cody coming to visit them and hug and hold them.  They’ll love you for that.”

           Cody sighed and thunked his head back against the wall. “You’re never gonna let me live the hero worship down, are you?”

           “Nope,” Rex huffed a weak attempt at a laugh.  He sounded exhausted, just as worn as the rest of them, and more since he was also dealing with a padawan commander who stumbled upon a bunch of cadets killed by Grievous.  Boil had heard the rumors, and he was so glad neither he nor Waxer had had to see any of the bodies of their little brothers.  That would have crushed them both.

           “Bring Commander Tano,” Boil said spontaneously.  He shifted back on his feet when both the Commander and the Captain looked at him in surprise.  “Well, I think it would do her good to see the cadets, too.  And I’m sure they’d like to meet a shiny Jedi. They probably have only ever seen General Ti from a distance.”

           “Ahsoka would like that, I think,” Cody answered, looking to Rex for confirmation.  Boil wasn’t sure why.  It was well-known among the 212th and the 501st that both Rex and Cody had adopted the young Jedi and loved her as fiercely as any nat-born loved their children.  Ahsoka looked up to Cody and probably spent just as much time with him as she did with Rex.

           “We have some a few tasks left to do before we can bunk down,” Rex said slowly.  “But then we should be free to come join you.  Ahsoka is debriefing with the Generals and checking on the injured in the medbay, but I’ll try to wrangle her into coming with us.”

           Boil nodded.  “I’ll go find Waxer and let you know which barracks he’s hid himself in. I’ll see you soon, sirs.”

           Cody and Rex waved him off, and Boil continued down the hallway, each step heavy with grief and exhaustion.  He counted off the doors until he reached the bunks for the youngest cadets decanted and poked his head into each one, looking for the tell-tale sign of a puppy-pile of vod’e flopped all over Waxer.

           It wasn’t until the fifth barracks he checked that Boil finally found him.  Waxer was telling a story about one of their many missions, watered down so that it was appropriate for little audio receptors.  He had a pair of Littles curled together under each arm, and two sitting on his lap while another dozen or so piled around his legs.  His armor was neatly stacked on a nearby pod, and it was clear that Waxer was planning on spending the rest of the night here with the little ones.

           “And then these great big, hungry monsters started chasing them through the streets of Nabat.  They were closing in on Commander Cody, and his blaster wasn’t working against their tough skins.  He was trapped, weaponless, and about to be eaten.  And do you know what happened?”

           One of the Littles on his lap perked up and grinned.  “He punched them?”

           “Or kicked them!”

           “Nah, he used his blaster to beat them up!”

           “You saved the day, Waxer!” a Little chirped from where he was practically buried underneath his brothers.

           “Thank you, 53, but no.  I was actually on my own adventure with Boil at the time.  I heard about all of this after it happened,” Waxer grinned.  He looked up, caught Boil’s eye, and shrugged apologetically.

           Boil found he couldn’t really be mad at Waxer.  Not when he was helping the little vod’ikase. With a heavy sigh, Boil stripped off his armor and set it next to Waxer’s while he distracted the little brothers.

           “I’ll tell you what happened,” Waxer continued his story with a wide grin.  “General Kenobi leaped in front of the charging monsters, without his lightsaber—“

           “No!” a Little cried.  He was curled up on his brother’s lap, tucked snugly under Waxer’s right arm, but when he shouted, he sat bolt upright, horror written on every tiny, adorable feature.

           That one is going to be Cody’s.  He’s going to adopt that Little next, Boil thought to himself. As he sat down, he and Waxer exchanged a knowing look, even as his lap was immediately overrun by Littles looking for a comfortable place to curl up.  If Cody managed to adopt this one, General Kenobi would stand no chance at ever running away from medical or losing his lightsaber in battle again.  The large, sad eyes pleading with him would be his downfall.  Boil made a note to tell Cody all about this one.

           “It’s alright, 2467,” Waxer soothed and kark, the kid even had Rex’s and Cody’s numbers combined into his.  “While it’s always a bad idea to go into a dangerous situation unarmed, the General had a few tricks up his sleeve.  So, there they were, cornered by starving beasts, when General Kenobi holds up his hand, just like this.”  Waxer demonstrates with arms raised in a decent imitation of the General when he was doing his Force magic stuff.

           “What happened then?  What happened to Commander Cody and General Kenobi?” a Little from the pile at Waxer’s knees piped up.

           “With the power of his mind,” Waxer said, “he spoke to the monsters and lured them away from Commander Cody and the rest of Ghost Company.  He led them deep into an alley, where there was only one exit.  And then he ordered Ghost to shoot at the walkways above him.”

           “NO!” 2467 shouted again.  “He can’t do that!  The General’s supposed to be safe!”

           Kriff it, Boil was going to help Cody sneak the whole squad onto the Negotiator, so he could adopt this one.  After all, they would never split up a batch.

           “Commander Cody was worried, but it all turned out okay. The General used the Force to leap high over the new blockade Ghost Company created, and he landed safely outside by Commander Cody, while the monsters were stuck.  And of course, Commander Cody handed the General his lightsaber and they went on to save Nabat.  The villagers were all safe and could move back into their homes without worrying about those awful clankers taking over their homes.”            “Wow!” one of the Littles in Boil’s lap whispered.

           “I’m gonna be just like Commander Cody when I grow big and strong!” another said, leaping up to demonstrate various kicks and punches. They weren’t very coordinated yet, and it was absolutely adorable to watch.

           “You better keep practicing, vod’ika,” Rex called from the doorway.  “Someday, you’ll be just as good as Cody.  I know it.”

           He slumped against the nearest pod and began taking off his armor.  Ahsoka slunk into the room behind him, and as soon as the top half of his armor was off, she attached herself to his back.  Her thin arms wrapped around his waist, and her face was pressed tightly in between his shoulder blades.  Boil would be willing to bet all the credits he never earned that she’d likely been crying as soon as she got away from the Generals.  But here among vod’e, she was safe to express all the awful emotions she had pent up in her heart.  Boil had learned over the course of the war that Jedi struggled with all the death far more than any vod.  They felt each death as if it were their own unless they shielded themselves so completely from the Force that it rendered them entirely useless.  To feel the lives of children slip away?  Boil couldn’t imagine.

           “Captain Rex, sir!” the Littles all shouted, and they tried to detangle themselves to salute, but Rex immediately waved them back down.

           “At ease, cadets.  Do you mind if we join you?  Commander Cody should also be coming soon.”

           “Really?”  The enormous eyes were filled with hope and disbelief that one of the greatest soldiers in the GAR would be coming to visit them.

           “Yes, really,” Boil answered.  “I invited him.  I hope you don’t mind?”

           Immediately, the little cadets were all wriggling around in excitement, talking loudly over one another about how cool and heroic Marshal Commander Cody was.  It was karking adorable.

           Boil slid into the newly freed space and wrapped an arm around Waxer.  Immediately, he felt him relax into his hold, some of the tension draining from his shoulders.  Rex plopped down against a wall, and immediately pulled Ahsoka into his lap, cradling her tightly against his chest.  She went almost desperately, needing the grounding contact of one of her adopted dads.  Boil knew that as soon as Cody arrived, she would somehow manage to wrap herself around both of them.  They’d probably end up buried beneath a pile of vod’ikase, but Boil sincerely doubted any of them would mind in the slightest.  He might not have the Force, but he could feel himself relaxing in the presence of such innocence and enthusiasm.  Waxer had made an excellent choice to come here.  Boil was glad that he had followed.

           He would always follow Waxer.  Whether it was on the battlefield or to a hoard of Littles that needed the comforting presence of their ori’vode, he would walk right beside him. Waxer was special.  Boil didn’t quite know the name of what he felt for Waxer, but he knew that it was enough to just be near him.  To press against each other tightly at night, and to shake apart together.  To be together for the rest of their lives.

           It was enough.

             (Cody nearly managed to sneak the entire squad onto the Negotiator undetected, but at the last minute, General Kenobi caught him. And then proceeded to help them set up a nursery perfect for the 212th’s newest squad of cadets.  No one could ever say their General didn’t have a bleeding heart, nor a soft spot for children.  And just as Boil had predicted, Cody adopted 2467 and helped pick out the name Dara.  They would be eternal, no matter what happened during the war.)

[a-little-bit-of-ravioli]

Hi yes hello please feel free to explain as many little details and references and subtle things that we readers might not have noticed but you put effort into anyway about Deserving thank you <3

In response to this post about random-ass questions about my fics always being welcome!

*points finger* YOU! You are enabling me. I like it.

Details and references and subtle things I put into Deserving, huh. There aren’t a lot of references, per se, but I sure did put in plenty of headcanons I have into throwaway lines, or mentioned things I could go into muuuch more detail about. So you’re getting all of those and their backgrounds now. You’ve been warned.

First things first. Twi and Colin’s baby sister’s name, Lucy? I wanted her name to fit into the universe, and realized that what would fit better than Uli naming her in celebration of the darkness and twilight being defeated? ‘Lucy’ stems from ‘Lucia’, which again stems from light. So she is their light that came after the darkness.

Next up in line would be... the Ordon Kids, probably. I have a lot of thoughts about these kiddos, and I could voice only a select few. Beth is the oldest of the bunch, but just in general her, Colin and Talo aren’t far apart. Malo is a couple years younger, but not too many. They’ve grown up a little since TP, but since Lucy is still a baby, it hasn’t been too long. Beth is now 13, Colin and Talo are 12, and Malo is 9. Most of them are not little kids anymore, but also just barely teenagers. And while Wind is Beth’s age, he was proactive in his journey, and grew up a lot more from it than they had the chance to. Beth and Colin are the farthest along, losing their blind faith in heroes and realizing the true colours of the world bit by bit. Twilight just about turned 20 in the context of this fic - he’s aged a little more than the rest of them because of the time he spent era-hopping with the Chain, but since Jojo put his as 18 at the beginning of his adventure in LU continuity, that’s where he lands in Deserving. I usually hc him a little older, around the 21-23 range, but for this particular fic it felt appropriate for him to not be that far from when his adventure happened.

Then there’s Rusl. There are so many things we don’t know about Rusl. The only things we actually find out about him?? Is that he made the Ordon Sword. He can fight, he’s fiercely protective of his home. And he’s part of the resistance. That’s it. So of course I had to build up an image of the man in my head before I could properly write him. I put the broad strokes of that into his thoughts in Chapter 3, but I’ll elaborate a little bit on how I got to them. Rusl and Uli aren’t old, despite what a lot of people think. His role as Twilight’s father figure pushes the perception this way, but their actual oldest biological child is Colin - who is barely a teen when TP begins. They probably aren’t older than their mid-30s, which puts them around the same age as Time and Malon (which is another great parallel). So if Rusl is in his mid-30s, why don’t we see his parents? I reckon they died young, shortly after him and Uli married and the village helped build them their own home. Seeing as Rusl crafts a sword, and seemingly is the only one in the village who can properly use it, his father’s profession being that of a blacksmith isn’t far-fetched - so Rusl’s role in the village of smith and protector comes from taking over his father’s duties. I find Rusl’s role in Twilight’s life fascinating, just as I do Time’s. The years between them aren’t as many as they would be between biological father and son, but the emotional bond is so strong that doesn’t make a difference.

That’s it for the characterization details... Colin’s are pretty apparent in the actual fic. So I’m just gonna start rambling about some small details now.

One of the small details I really made sure to include was Wind grasping his stone before heading out to the portal they spotted. He’s not reckless enough to investigate something like it without making sure the others are informed, and that’s what he does there.

I will forever assert that Time is naturally connected to the forest, no matter how many years he lives outside of it. I had Rusl make a small throwaway line observation about it, not only for the hc’s sake but also to show just how strange (not in a bad definition of the word!) the Chain individually can be, even to people close to one of them.

I decided on Colin fighting a Lizalfos for two reasons. First, Moblins are way too overrepresented in fics - even in my own up to that point, which is why I purposefully chose something else. But also because at his age and training level, they were a solid enemy for him to not have an easy time against but also win without grievous injury. After all, Time fights two of them in Dodongo’s Cavern in his second Dungeon; they’re classed as Minibosses too, so they warrant more of a fight than a regular enemy. They also have an interesting enough hit pattern in OoT that the fight ended up distinct enough from just another monster fight.

Also, Wild and Hyrule showing up at the end? I foreshadowed it waaaaay back when in Chapter 2, when they run past Twilight and Colin sparring talking about ‘some path’ they found.

Oh, oh, also. Twilight running around the village with Ilya and Fado as kids? Yeah, I will forever champion that those three were the original menaces of Ordon Village when they were kids, Fado being the oldest of the three. Just. Let Twilight have more friends his age than just Ilya. Fado is right there. We know nothing about him. So he’s part of the trio now. Sorry, but I make the rules about this.

Aaaand.... I think that’s all I have to say for now. At least the most important bits. If I forgot something I’ll yell at you later, but these are all the little tidbits I kept in the back of my mind while I wrote the later chapters.

Thank you for letting me ramble!! I loved it. This fic might be over but it’s still in my brain.

[enfysandember]

A's Visions shorts ranking (SPOILERS):

1. The Village Bride, 10/10 -- if I'm being honest this short was TARGETED at me and I am in deep love with F I love her I also love all of the other character designs, the voice acting is great, the pacing is great, the final battle is AMAZING I love the golden lightsaber, and I like the story it felt pretty chill and not like they were trying to cram 50,000 things into the episode-- I want more but I don't feel confused about what was happening. If there's one complaint I have the ending couple shots felt a bit static and slideshowy but I'm willing to ignore that

2. The duel, 10/10 -- just great, super cool animation style, great action, just really really cool. I don't have much to say honestly, the main character was mysterious and I will probably read the stuff coming out about him, I like that he's a sith. When he opened his coat(?) and we saw all those red kyber crystals I went apeshit. Very cool short.

3. Lop and Ocho 9/10 point off for having a furry -- listen I actually CRIED at this short and I don't know what I was expecting going into it but it was NOT THIS. I went into it thinking oh god they put a furry in star wars and instead I got this heartwrenching tale about a family split in two and the power of bonds over blood and I just?? They had NO RIGHT to do that to me I want an ending I want them to be a FAMILY AGAIN. I need closure god damn it!!!

4. T0-B1 7.5/10 -- not gonna lie it was pretty predictable I saw it and I was like yeah this professor is probably going to die and toby is gonna become a real boy in spirit and yeah that's what happened but god damn I did like it more than I thought I would. BIG Astroboy vibes except it was like 12 minutes long so I feel like I went through 3 arcs of him 1. going from his idyllic life to the professor being dead and recovering from that to 2. finishing his professor's life work and seeing rain for the first time to 3. getting a lightsaber (where did that kyber crystal come from??) fighting an inquisitor becoming a JEDI KNIGHT having a bunch of his little robot friends killed getting his hand cut off and then killing the inquisitor like that's just a LOT it was very fast paced a little too much for me.

5. The Ninth Jedi 6/10 -- it was alright, it was fine it was cool, I liked the kind of colorless blade unfortunately ETHAN ruined the episode for me and also it felt like it set some things up for like an actual series like a pilot episode but it's just one short like is her dad okay?? where are the other jedi?? and that by itself would be fine but I don't know, there was just no moment where my adrenaline spiked and I went HOLY SHIT like maybe her saber turning from that weird grey color to green would be a moment but it just... happened.

6. The Twins 6/10 -- listen the action looked cool, some of the ideas were cool... it just felt again like they were trying to put too much of a story into the short or it was just weirdly paced or something, and the exposition was not great. I also REALLY did not like the voice acting the voice acting really took me out of it on this one (on english dub)

7. The Elder 5/10 -- it was okay, the style was nice and the characters were... fine. The old sith guy was appropriately creepy but I feel like they could have done more cool fighting with him. The whole short felt really static, during conversations they just kind of cut back and forth between the master and padawan's faces and they didn't move much, during the action it happened in short bursts which was cool but for the rest of it it just felt really static.

8. Tatooine Rhapsody 3/10 -- I don't know what to say. I gave it such a high score because it was kind of cracked out but the tonal whiplash I got from the first scene scene to the rock band was a bit much and I don't like that slugs character design. I feel like the padawan was supposed to have an emotional arc or something but I don't know what it was?? like I thought he would fix his lightsaber and do action stuff but they sand a song for jabba and it was a BAD song too like I did not like it at all.

9. Akakiri

[karlheisenberganyone]

This is my first post so I’m sorry if it’s bad lmao but yeaaa, this is kinda my first smut post ya knowww- but yea if it’s bad I’m sorry. Also I’m only doing this cause I’m bored asfffff 😫😫 also I might only post smut cause that’s what I’m best at cause I’m one hörny bish lmfao. So yea no one under 18 read I guess.

SMUT UNDER THIS PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

Karl Heisenberg x female reader smut 18+

“Only for a bit”

Warning: cursing , kinkyyy, getting tied up, choking, pet calling (sweetheart, kitten) you also using names like sir. Just sexy stuff 😩

Enjoy <3

You were one of the 4 daughters of Lady Dimitrescu. You, Bela, Daniela, and Cassandra were treated very well, with rich delicious wine and goods. You were different from them though. All 4 of them were vampires, but you, you are an ordinary human being. Instead of eating human meat and drinking human blood, you ate normal animal meat and drank fine wine or water. It wasn’t difficult living with this family, you actually really enjoyed it. You had a wonderful mother and wonderful sisters. You felt loved and accepted in their family. You have lived with the Dimitrescu’s since a very younge age. You were brought into the family by Mother Miranda, who apparently found you in the abounded village a few miles away.

Today there was also a very important meeting being held up, and mother insisted you came over to accompany her, which you happily accepted. You were now In your bedroom, getting ready, but stopped when you heard a knock. “Sister, mother told me to bring you this dress she got made especially for you” you heard Bella say behind the door. “Oh ok, thank you very much and tell mother I’m very grateful” you said opening the door and taking the box with the dress in it. “I will, also mother wants you ready in 20 minutes” Bella said disappearing into a swarm of flies. “Ok!” You said loudly but not too loud.

You opened the box to see a gorgeous emerald green dress, with a bunch of gold swirls on the front with green gems. You slowly and carefully put the dress on and then go style your hair. You weren’t really used to these long dresses, and looking very elegant. After 20 minutes, you walked down the stairs in your heels, slowly to not fall over and make a scene of yourself. “You look absolutely stunning, as always dear” you heard your mother call out to you. “Thank you mother, and I’m very grateful for this dress. Bella told me it was specifically made for me” you tell your mother with a soft smile. “Only the best for my sweet beautiful daughter’s” your mother replied back with a soft smile. “So are you ready dear?” Your mother asked turning to look at you. “Yes mother” you said, taking your coat off the hanger and same with mother.

It was early autumn, and it was getting a tiny bit chilly. You walked down the paths, walking past many trees turning all different colours to show it was autumn. It truly was a gorgeous sight to see. After a few minutes of walking, you get to your destination. Mother opens the front door to find Donna sitting peacefully, greeting you and mother, while her doll running around laughing maniacally. Moreau was quietly lighting the candles to bring a bit of light inside. And Heisenberg no where to be seen yet. After all you were 30 minutes early. Mother sat down in her regular spot, talking to Donna about how she has been and catching up. You, you went to talk to Moreau about how well he has been. After 10 minutes of sitting down and talking to Moreau about video games he has, the door was harshly opened by a heavy boot, belonging to no other than Heisenberg. Everyone brings their attention towards the man himself, looking at his toothy white smile, greeting everyone by tilting his hat a bit and walking towards his seat. “So the dog decided to come over” mother started. “Oh shut up you bitch, I always come here for meetings, usually a bit late, but today is different!” Heisenberg said glaring at her through his glasses, and then looking at you, you looking back at him with an angry expression. “What are you frowning at kitten?” He asked you. “I do not like it when someone calls my mother in appropriate names” you said with a harsh and calm tone. “But your “dear mother” has called me a dog so I have full right to call her a bitch” he said putting his hands over he chair, and crossing his legs. “Not like she isn’t right” you mumbled, loud enough for everyone to hear you, and your mother laughing quietly.

“You wanna fight or something kitten?” He asked you leaning forward now. “No, I just don’t like my mother being called harsh words that aren’t true” you said glaring at him. But when he was about to argue, Mother Miranda has arrived, leaving Heisenberg to close his mouth and groan loud enough for you to look at him.

After about an hour or so, the meeting ended. “Y/n, dear, please do me a favour and walk home. I must talk to Mother Miranda about something very important, and I won’t be coming home any time soon” mother said. You give her a reassuring smile and a nod, putting on your coat. You weren’t scared of walking home, because you knew how to fight. You could kill and fight with no problem, after all you do live with vampires. You walked out the door, and first thing you smell is the strong smell of cigar and whiskey, telling you Heisenberg was right there, and you were right. You turned your head towards him watching him smoking his cigar with a “really, here?” look. You shake your head a bit and start walking home, but before you could go you heard him talk. “I didn’t let you go anywhere kitten did I?” He asked you, you turning around to look at him. You took a deep breath and said “no.1 I ain’t no kitten so stop with that kitten shit, and 2nd of all you ain’t my parent so I can do what I want” you said with a little smile and started walking off home.

But Heisenberg didn’t give up easily. He started following you. You turn around rapidly. “What do you want?” You asked. Heisenberg just watched you. You could feel him eye you up and down even with those glasses on. You sighed out loud and started walking again, not caring that he was right behind you anymore. “You know what kitten, come with me to my factory, I wanna show u something” he said suddenly. You turned around once again and looked at him. “Why would I go to your factory?” He sighed “Come on pet, do ya have anything betta to do? No, so come over to mine. At least I’ll have some company”. The thought of you and Heisenberg being together alone made you kind of excited. You liked this man for a bit and loved teasing and annoying him, and he loved doing the same thing.

“Fine, but only for a bit” you said, letting him go in front and lead the way. It was a small walk and you got there real quick. “So here we are, my dear factory” he said showing off his mechanical creation’s. After giving you a walk through the factory, you asked why he invited you over. “Well I had a few questions” he answered, and now ur curiosity wanted to know what he had to ask. “You look curious kitten, would ya like to know?” He asked which you responded with a nod. “Well kitten, why did you chose to listen to me and come over?” Was his question first. “I dunno, I was bored so yea” you responded. “2nd question, what’s your type?” You looked at him with a suspicious look. “Why do you want to know that?” You asked. “You really wanna know kitten?” He asked lowering his voice a bit, which makes you shiver in pleasure. “I would like to know, but is it worth it?” You asked. “Well you will have to wait and see” he said. “Come over here” he said taking his glasses off and hat, and you obeying him and come near him. You could see the lust and need in his eyes making you feel warm and tingly.

“I would like to know why you want to know my type, Heisenberg” you said getting closer to him. “You really wanna know dear?” Seeing the lust in his eyes. “Yes I do” you said, a teasing look on your face. “Cause I wanna see if I’m of any of your standards dear. I wanna see if I can claim you as mine” he said coming closer to your ear, whispering in a deep raspy voice, which made you feel wetness come over. “And what would you do to me if you were of my standards and could claim me as yours?” You asked, teasingly wanting to know his answer. “Oh I’d do a lot to you kitten~” he purred into your ear. “Could you tell me what exactly?” You asked. “Right now, I’d like to rail you right here right now, make you scream my name until you can’t speak no more, listen to your moans like some music, fuck you so hard you start shaking, tie you up and make sure you can’t fuckin escape and make you endure the pleasure” he said making him squirm under him, making you feel like a hot mess, with only words. “Can I touch you?” He asked. You nod, immediately, begging for some friction. He slowly put his hands on your waist, pulling you closer to him, and then taking your chin in one of his hands, and giving you a fast kiss, which soon turned into a heated make out session, his hands travelling around your body, while yours on his shoulders. Picking you up, he places you on the table behind him, throwing everything on the table onto the ground, placing you on top of it not stopping the kiss.

He soon started taking your dress off, unzipping it from the back, slowly to not make no damage. The kiss getting hotter and more heated, tasting the mix between cigar and whiskey, making your knees weak. After taking off the dress, he starts trailing kisses and bites down your jaw and kneck down to your exposed chest. He looked at you with a questionable look, and you gave him a quick nod to show him it was ok. After pleasuring you with your tits, and not getting a lot of moans out of you, it didn’t satisfy Heisenberg.

He laid you down onto your back and took of your panties. He gave you another look, and you nod. He slowly looks at you panties. “I haven’t even touched you that much, but look how fuckin wet you are kitten! And because of me and only for me” he said spreading your lips. He lowered himself biting at your thighs earning a few needy moans. It took him ages to finally give you a bit of pleasure by spreading your lips, and him finally using his mouth and tounge finally licking your clit, making your back arch and moan his name. That made Heisenberg go faster and add more pressure, which made you a moaning hot mess, for him and only him. “You taste fuckin delicious kitten” he said in pants. He then brought his 2 fingers, and slipped them inside you, curling them, making you feel more pleasure. When you felt your orgasm coming, Heisenberg stop what he was doing making you whine . “Come on, Heisenberg, I wanna cum so badly, please lemme cum” you moaned. “But kitten, I’m not done with you yet.” He said taking his shirt off, boots and then undoing his belt.

When he undid his belt, and unzipped his pants, you could see his hard erection, making you wetter. “Enjoying the view princess?” He asked while taking his dick out. You just gave him a needy look and that gave him the hint to put it in. But before that you saw metal scraps flying past him taking your hands and pinning them at the top of your head on the table, making you unable to move your hands. This distracted you, so you didn’t notice Karl moving forward getting in place to rail you. He pushed in, which made you wince in pain letting him enter you bit by bit. You didn’t notice how big he was, feeling him fill you to the brim. “Is that all you can take kitten? Well fuck you still have a bit to go. You are so tight for me baby” he said moaning breathily.

“I cant take anymore Heisenberg, it’s too much” you moaned your legs trembling. “I’ll make you take all of it” he said pushing the rest of his length deep inside, making you arch your back in pleasure, making you gasp hard. He let you adjust to his size for a few minutes until he started moving his hips. At first he went with a slow passionate pace, but seeing you arch your back moaning for more, he picked up speed and strength, taking his dick nearly out, and slamming back in, making you gasp and moan. “Kitten, I want to hear you loud, don’t hide any of your sweet noises” he said breathlessly. You gave him a light nod before him slamming himself into you again, making you nearly scream his name out, him hitting every perfect spot.

He took one of your legs, onto his shoulder, making him go deeper into you, making you a moaning mess. He then took his glove off, by teeth and started rubbing your clit, building another orgasm inside you. “Already another orgasm pet? You have to beg for this one a lot harder sweetheart” he said rubbing your clit harder and slamming harder into you. “P-please sir please let me c-cum, I’ll do anything, please let me cum, please” you begged in between moans. “Tell me how good I make you feel” Heisenberg same slamming into you faster, watching your face curl into pleasure. “You make me feel so good sir, please haah your dick makes me feel so good sir, you are so good sir” you said with tears in the corner of your eyes.

“Good girl, so fuckin good for me and only me” slamming hard into you, your legs trembling nearing your orgasm. “Karl I’m about to-“ you slightly screamed, but Heisenberg stopped you by wrapping his hand around your neck, his other hand still rubbing your clit, making you cum hard on his dick, squeezing him, making him go harder, chasing his own orgasm moaning fuck and your so fuckin tight. And then he slammed one more time, spilling his seed deep inside you, filling you up. After that intense orgasm, Karl fell on top of you trying to support his weight with his hands on each side of your head. He let you go off the metal scraps, and you put one hand in his hair and the other on his shoulder. “Fuck, I should’ve done this sooner, don’t ya think?” He asked slightly laughing. “You should have, but better now than never” you said and with that he lowered down to give you a soft passionate kiss, making you melt right under him.

“You should go home kitten.. you can maybe stay a bit longer next time” he mumbled softly, not wanting to let you go, but also not wanting you to get in trouble and hurt. “I should” you said getting up, cleaning up and dressing up. He just put on his trousers and belt and watched you while lighting a cigar in his mouth. You were about to head out until Karl took your wrist and kissed you a goodbye kiss. “I’ll see you again kitten” he said with a grin letting you go and opening the door for you. “Next time then. Bye bye” you said and he just waved. What a crazy day you told yourself walking home aching but happy.

[savethelastdan]

Yashahime Is Over Party: Contribution #2

“All right, all right!” 

The crowd of villagers quieted (some with a wince) as the high-pitched shout rang around the village entrance. Ten-year-old Moroha gave them one last warning glare for good measure. 

With, as her Great-Grandpa on the other side of the Well would say, “more gusto than should be necessary”, she then leapt upon the nearest height-offering surface - one of the tourists’ suitcases, emblazoned a dozen times on every side with “FRAGILE” - and began her welcome speech. 

“Shut your mouths and hold onto your butts, folks, because this is a real treat! The coolest village ever to exist in any timeline, on a sunny day! Since my big brother is at kitsune academy today, you all have the honor of yours truly acting as escort around this prime piece of feudal real estate!” 

Dramatic pause for emphasis. (Yes, she’d taken some liberties with the script that Shippo had left, and she didn’t quite know what ‘prime piece of real estate’ actually meant, but her cousin Towa agreed that it sounded fancy and fancy always worked with humans.) 

A soft-faced young woman glanced around the crowd self-consciously before raising a hand. “You mean, this is the village where priestess Kikyo - “

“Ahem!” Moroha held up the wooden sign hanging from her neck, tapping the carved-in letters spelling ���Village Tour Guide #2” with one nail. “Are you wearin’ the sign?”

“Oh. Uh, sorry.” The woman blushed. 

After a moment, Moroha cleared her throat. “Okay, yeah, it is. But there’s a bunch of other super-cool people here, too! If you wanna meet them - follow me!” With that, she jumped from the suitcase to land solidly in the dirt. A few tourists reared back from the cloud of disturbed dust, putting them at the back of the moving crowd. 

“First up, the sister of the blah-dee-blah-famed-priestess-blah-dee-blah Kikyo - Lady Kaedeeeeee!” She swung both arms in a dramatic half-circle towards the healer woman’s hut; the crowd ooh-ed and ah-ed appropriately. “On days like these, she’s either healing a sick patient, birthin’ a new baby, or taking a long nap! Since she’s awfully old, the napping’s more frequent.” Hooking an arm around a teenage tourist’s shoulder, she hissed in a spooky tone, “Some say she’ll live forever, getting older and older until she’s like a living zombie-” 

“I heard that.” With a cross expression, Kaede leaned out of the window.“Don’t think I won’t curse you for those bad manners.”

Moroha waved the group on with a nervous chuckle. 

“And this is the home of the most famous demon slayer known to womankind - Sango!” Cupping both hands around her mouth like a bullhorn, Moroha drew out the last syllable of the woman’s name to emphasize her coolness. Several of the humans perked up with excitement; it wasn’t hard to imagine that they had themselves benefited from some of the woman’s work. 

“Her husband Miroku lives here too. He used to be a monk, but now he’s a family guy! My papa says -” She straightened, putting on a deep, gruff tone - “it’s a damn miracle -” Dropping the tone, she grinned cheerily at the group - “nobody will tell me why!” 

As if on cue, the door to the house opened to reveal a group of tall, bickering young adults. The loudest were two women with matching features, the only visible difference to a stranger being that one’s slayer outfit was trimmed in pink and the other’s in green. Behind them trotted a younger boy, also wearing a slayer outfit in red.  

“I’m taking the kusarigama, you’re taking the wakizashi!” The green-outfitted slayer said, ignoring her sister’s attempts to talk over her. “Otherwise you and Mom will have two long-range weapons, and that makes no sense!” 

“Plus that’s Uncle Kohaku’s specialty!” Their brother piped up; he dodged the twin elbows that swung back at him as easily as if they’d warned him. “She wants to impress him with it so he’ll take her on his trip to the mountains with Rin this summer!” 

Through the left-open door, came the sweet smell of treats baking - one of the many hobbies Miroku had taken up with his time, now that he wasn’t going to up and die (Moroha knew she wasn’t technically supposed to know about that. Or probably phrase it like that… But if her godfather Koga said it that way, why was it any different for her?)

The group of slayers stopped short upon seeing the crowd; with awkward bows, they quickly skirted their way around the gaping tourists. 

““That’s Sango’s kids; every one of ‘em demon slayer prodigies.” Slinging her arm around the same teen from earlier, Moroha shook her head with a dramatic sigh. “Makes me almost want another sibling. Except then I’d have to share my room, nooooo thank you!”

“Excuse me.” A mustached man in the middle of the group raised one arm curiously. “I heard one of those women mention Rin - is that the human who died twice and was resurrected by the sword Tenseiga?” 

“Huh? Oh, yeah. That’s Rin.” Moroha tapped her own head thoughtfully and muttered under her breath, “Was it really only twice…”

“Does she still live here?” The man’s mustache drooped in a frown. “Or did she go to live with that dog demon?”

“Dog demon? Ohhh, you mean Uncle Sesshomaru!” A smile stretched across her face. “I almost forgot about him! Nah, after she got married she decided to stay in town -” 

“Married?!” The group erupted in murmurs of horror. One kerchiefed mother clapped her hands over the ears of her daughter; the mustached man turned green.

Moroha’s face fell. “Well, yeah. She wanted to keep taking healer lessons from Kaede, and even though he travels a lot, she wanted to stay by Kohaku’s side when he comes home. Be a team, and all that.” 

“Ohhhh, so she’s Kohaku’s wife!” The human mother’s shoulders slumped with a sigh. “How lovely and age-appropriate.” 

Moroha wasn’t sure what that meant, but if it made the negative energy go away then she was all for it! “Rin’s super cool, anyway. She knows how to heal demons, not just humans, and she tells really good ghost stories, and she’s actually really good at arm-wrestling -” 

Suddenly she ducked her head to whisper, “She’s probably my favorite cousin, if I’m bein’ honest with ya.”

 “Do you have other cousins?” A man who appeared to look a thousand years old squinted in her direction. Perhaps in confusion, but it was hard to tell with all the wrinkles. “I doubt a full-blooded dog demon like that Sesshomaru fella would leave his legacy in the hands of a human girl.” 

“My mom would say that’s prejudiced,” Moroha said helpfully, causing the old man to blanche. “But Rin’s got two little sisters, who you can see riiiiiiight now!” 

With a dramatic twist, she whirled around to point in the opposite direction with both hands, adding a low growl that was meant to mimic the roar of an excited crowd. 

The moment was slightly underwhelmed by the confused looks of the tourists as they took a moment to figure out where exactly to look. That’s okay; she’d work on it. 

Down the road, her twin cousins leaned against the wall of a house (Moroha’s house, which she was saving for last because you always save the best for last). Towa was smiling and pointing out something up in the sky, while Setsuna wore a very predictable scowl. From this far away, the red streaks in their hair were little more than smudges. 

The extremely old man with an attitude problem made a weird hacking noise, most likely in surprise. 

“Did he adopt them like your other cousin?” asked a teenage girl. 

“Kinda!” Both hands landed on her hips; Moroha then modeled her expression on her Uncle - stoic, dismissive, oh-so-cool. “On a cool spring night, Uncle Sesshomaru walked into the darkest, deepest forest on the planet, waved his sword over a really old and creepy tree, and when he cut it open - there they were. Two lil’ hanyou babies.” 

Dramatic pause. 

“Just kiddin’.” Laughing loud enough to bring back the wincing from the group, Moroha slapped her knee. “They’re full demons. I can still take either of ‘em in a fight, though. Oh!” She pointed up in the air with a wide, excited smile. “There’s their mom right now!” 

Murmurs of confusion filled the air as the tourists moved their heads this way, that way; only when a chilling breeze morphed into flesh and bone, right before their eyes, did the group exclaim in collective understanding. 

Moroha waved. “Hi, Auntie Kagura!” 

“Yo.” Clearly taken aback by the crowd, the wind demon gave a tiny salute. The side of her neck bore a half-moon symbol tattooed on the skin; Moroha thought it was neat, even if her dad thought it was a dumb, archaic wedding ritual. “Do your parents know you’re doing this?” 

“Uh, duh!” She held up the sign with a cheeky grin. 

“Fair enough.” Upon spying her daughters across the way, Kagura’s expression softened a bit. “Well, I’ll see you later.” 

“No, wait! We’re actually heading the same way.” Gesturing to the not-moving crowd, Moroha repeated, “The same way. Meaning the best part of the tour - come on, folks, work with me here -” 

Kagura snorted, walking quickly as though to avoid the gawking humans and their nosy questions about how she had been resurrected or could still live now that Naraku was dead or got Sesshomaru to admit he had feelings much less have kids with her. A curt “none of your business” was all they’d get, no matter how much Moroha tugged on her sleeve and whined about “giving people their money’s worth.”

Luckily, once they reached Moroha’s house, it was easy to escape. After all, a much more awe-inspiring attraction awaited the group of lucky, lucky tourists. 

“And now! The Greatest Love Story Of Our Time!” With a winning grin, Moroha landed a kick on the door, sending it slamming open. 

“Oh.” Kagome blinked at the group from where she sat on a futon in the middle of the house, surrounded by magical artifacts. A scroll marked with ink rolled from her lap all the way to one side of the room. Behind her, halfway through helping her put her hair in a bun, Inuyasha froze “Uh, hello?”

“My parents! Dumdedumdummmmm!” The warmth of her pride felt like it was going to burst in her chest. It was the absolute best to come home to people who loved her! Whether it was tickle fights before bed, or her dad taking her and Shippo out on demon-tracking trips, or her mom humming a lullaby if she felt sick on the full moon night, Moroha was certain her family was the best of anybody’s anywhere. “One fell through time, and one fell -- fell, uh, for her -- sorry, I’ll work on it.” 

Inuyasha huffed in the way that meant he was going to complain later. Kagome just chuckled and waved. 

For once, the humans reacted exactly the way Moroha wanted them to - smiling, clapping, appreciating the wonder of her super-beautiful-and-also-hella-powerful mom and grumpy-but-still-amazingly-brave papa. She launched into the story she knew by heart, of how they had come to be together and saved the whole world while they were at it. Some parts were probably missing or misrepresented, from the laughter in her mom’s eyes, but she had enough of it right that half the tourist group was in near tears by the time she was done. 

“And now, they have one more accomplishment to add to the long list - parenting the greatest warrior this world has ever seen. Moro-uh, Beniyasha!” Swirling the ends of her fire-rat robe, she twirled. “The Crimson Slayer!”

“Slayer of my patience, maybe,” Inuyasha snapped, though he was unable to hide his smile as he marched over to grab her by the collar. “Come ‘ere, kid. You’ve got chores to do!” 

Tossing her over his shoulder, he waved dismissively at the group of humans. “Sorry folks, the show ends here. Yeesh...” 

Moroha cupped both hands around her mouth, screeching to be heard over her parent’s laughter before the door shut.

“Make sure to leave your comment cards in the box at the entrance!”

[hearts-hunger]

dralshy’a ka’ra (brighter stars): chapter six || din djarin x reader

Read on AO3 | Masterlist

chapter one | chapter two | chapter three | chapter four | chapter five

Series Summary: In the lake country of Naboo, you and Din romance each other under summer’s brighter stars. || Part Two of Jate’kara (Lucky Stars)

Chapter Summary: You and Din return to Sorgan to get your baby, and you get some very happy news.

Pairings: Din Djarin x Wife!Reader

Genre: Pure fluff | Word Count: 4.8k 

Warnings: Just to be safe, talk of pregnancy and having babies

A/N: It’s the end of this little sequel series! I hope you loves have enjoyed reading it as much as I’ve enjoyed writing it, and I’m so thankful for all your kind comments! A note about this chapter: I did my research on Star Wars lore, so even though Omera’s backstory is my own headcanon, it all exists in Star Wars canon! I think she deserves to be force-sensitive, and I think Mr. and Mrs. Djarin deserve their happy news even if it’s not realistic to know that soon. Anyways, I hope you like it! ♡

“Mr. and Mrs. Djarin!”

You couldn’t help a smile at the exuberant greeting as you made your way down the lane, warmth and light spilling out of the little huts on either side. Winta ran up to meet you, leaving the group of children playing together in the warm evening air, their toys spread out amongst them as they laughed and chattered with each other. Your baby was playing happily with two other children and a pile of toy soldiers. You didn’t call for him, even though you wanted to hold him; you’d be leaving soon, and you wanted to let him play with his friends a little longer.

Winta stopped in front of Din, the toy Pelta-class medical ship in her hands all but forgotten.

“Are you here for the baby?” she asked, the slight edge of hesitation to her voice indicating she was hoping you were here for a different reason.

“Afraid so,” Din told her, sympathy and amusement coloring his voice. You both knew your little one had a devoted friend in Winta, and he’d be just as sad to leave her as she would be to see him go.

Her shoulders slumped, but she quickly recovered her manners. 

“Well, thank you for letting him stay for a while,” she said sincerely, looking up at both of you with an earnest expression.

You smiled. “You’re welcome,” you said. “You had a fun time together?”

She beamed. “Yes!” She gestured back to the other children, then to the toy in her hands. “We were just playing that we were in the Clone Wars, but the hospital ship’s lights won’t turn on.”

Din hunkered down to her height and extended his hands. “May I see?”

Winta handed her toy to him, watching as he took out his vibroblade and began to tinker with it. His big hands were steady even on the toy’s littlest parts, and he soon had the lights working as they should.

“Thank you, Mr. Djarin,” Winta said, almost in awe as he handed the toy back to her. He put his knife away and gave her hair an affectionate ruffle as he stood.

“You’re welcome,” he said. “Could you do me a favor and tell your mom we’re here?”

“Sure,” she agreed. With a parting smile, she skipped off in the direction of her house, cradling her newly-fixed toy close to her chest.

Din watched her go. “Strange to think about kids playing at the Clone Wars, isn’t it?”

“A little,” you agreed. “Though probably more for you than it is for me. I don’t remember them at all.”

“No, I guess you wouldn’t,” he mused, looking at you. “You were only a baby, right?”

You nodded. “I was born the year they started.” You knew Din had been rescued in the last year of the conflict, and wondered how he felt about his son playacting it with a bunch of toy soldiers.

“Does it bother you?” you asked.

“Them playing it?” he asked. He shrugged when you nodded.

“Not really,” he said. “I played like that when I was little. We mostly stuck to the legends of the Mandalorian Crusades, which were thousands of years ago, but it’s... comforting, I guess, that little ones are so removed from the war I lived through that they can make it a game.”

“I think my parents thought the same about the Battle of Naboo,” you said. “We played it all time, in the field where it happened, and mother made us costumes and everything. I always wanted to be Queen Amidala.”

You smiled at the memory. “I stuck bird feathers in my hair to make a headdress,” you remembered. “Even though the queen probably wasn’t wearing her fancy clothes during the battle.”

Din chuckled. “Probably not,” he agreed.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a happy babble, and you looked to see your little one toddling over, a grin on his face and a toy clutched in his claws. He gave you uppy arms and you happily scooped him up, cuddling him close and giving him kisses.

“Hello, my little love,” you cooed, secretly pleased that he’d noticed you were here and had decided you were worth leaving his game for. He touched a hand to your cheek and giggled when you kissed his ears.

“Did you know mama missed you very much?” you said. He gave you a questioning coo, and you smiled. “Yes, I did miss you very much. Your daddy missed you too.”

He turned his head to find Din, then broke into a beaming grin when he spotted him. Din moved closer to you and put a hand on your back as he offered his other hand to your baby.

“Su cuy'gar, ad’ika,” Din greeted, his smile unmistakable through the vocoder as the baby wrapped his hand around Din’s finger. “I missed you.”

Your baby gave an excited babble and held his toy up for his dad to see.

“I know, you’ve got a very nice toy,” Din said with interest and affection. “You had fun playing, didn’t you?”

You knew Din wanted to have his chance to cuddle your son, and you handed him over with a parting kiss. Din cradled him against his chest, listening to your baby’s incoherent but impassioned chatter as he waved his toy around. Your husband responded with “wow!” and “I know!” when appropriate, knowing your son was telling him something but unsure what it was. You smiled as you watched them. As happy as you had been to have time alone with your husband, you were happy that your little family was back together.

“You’re here!”

Both you and Din turned to see Omera greeting you with open arms, and you fell willingly into a tight, affectionate hug from your friend. She hugged Din next, careful of the baby, and looked at both of you with a warm smile.

“You look well-rested,” she said. “Did you have a nice time?”

“Yes,” you said sincerely. “It was wonderful. Thank you so much for watching him.”

She gave a dismissive wave. “We were happy to have him. He’s played from sunup to sundown every day.”

The baby had found his toy made an interesting clinking noise when tapped against his dad’s arm plate, and Din covered the buttons on his vambrace so nothing would get set off accidentally.

“He was good?” Din asked. “Minded his manners?”

Omera smiled. “He was perfect,” she assured him. “No trouble at all.” She glanced up at the sun that had just started to set, then back at the two of you.

“Can you stay at all?” she asked. “I know you’re probably anxious to be going soon, but I have the kettle on if you’d like to at least have some tea before you go.”

You looked up at Din. You knew you couldn’t stay the night; he preferred to set course for Trask as soon as possible, but you did want to spend a little more time with your friend if you could.

“Can we stay for tea?” you asked.

He nodded. “Yes. I’d like us to be headed to the Crest before dark, though, if that’s alright.”

You smiled. “Okay,” you agreed. “Thank you.”

You looped your arm through Omera’s and walked with her towards her home, happy to let Din hold the baby while you told your friend all about your vacation. You’d become very close the first time you stayed on Sorgan, just after you’d gotten your baby - she was an invaluable help to you as you learned the ropes of motherhood, and she was a deeply caring and affectionate friend. You didn’t get to see her as often as you would have liked, but treasured your time together whenever it came.

“You have an aura about you, Mrs. Djarin,” she said sagely, a mischievous glint in her lovely brown eyes as she walked with you up the front steps of her house. “Is there any news you need to tell me?”

You were intrigued but slightly bewildered - you didn’t have any news, did you?

You sat down at her kitchen table. “What do you mean? What kind of aura?”

She didn’t say anything, just gave you a knowing smile as she moved about her kitchen, pouring two cups of Tarine tea into beautiful teacups. You knew they’d been a wedding present from her husband, and she liked to use them as a way to keep his memory close.

“Any for you, Din?” she asked as he took a seat next to you, the baby content to stay in his lap. She handed the baby a cookie, and he gave a pleased coo.

Din chuckled. “No, but thank you for offering. It’s kind of you, considering how many times I’ve declined your hospitality before.”

She waved him off as she sat catty corner to you with her own cup. “What good is a woman’s hospitality if it doesn’t respect those who come through her door?”

She cradled her mug in her hands and blew gently on it as she raised it to her lips. You watched her face expectantly, desperately curious to know what she’d meant by her earlier comment. When she just raised a brow at you, you gave an incredulous laugh.

“What do you know that I don’t know?” you asked. “I don’t think I have any news to tell you.”

Din cocked his head. “News? What news?”

“Omera asked if I had any news to tell her,” you said. “She said I had an ‘aura’ about me. Do I have an aura about me, Din?”

“Um... I don’t know?” he said politely, unsure if it would be a compliment or an insult and therefore choosing the middle ground.

You looked back at Omera. “Is an aura a bad thing?”

She shook her head. “No, not necessarily. It’s just an indication of something - in this case, something medical - that you may not even be aware of.”

You frowned. “Medical? As in, your healing?” Omera was the village healer, but you’d always thought it to be based in traditional, herbal medicine. You’d never heard her mention an “aura” in her work.

She hummed. “Yes, I use it in healing,” she said. “Maybe I should tell you about how I learned to be a healer, and that will make some things clear.”

“I’d love to hear about it,” you said earnestly. Aside from this confusion about your “aura”, you had wanted to know where she trained, as you’d thought she’d been on Sorgan her whole life.

She took a sip of her tea.

“My grandmother’s people were from the planet Dathomir,” she said. “She was born into the Daughters of Allya, a clan of witches and powerful healers, and she was taught to be a healer. Though she left Dathomir to settle with my grandfather here, on Sorgan, she trained my mother to be a healer too. My mother taught me, and when Winta is old enough, I will teach her.”

You studied your friend’s face. To know she was descended from a clan of healer-witches made sense of her uncanny grace, her warrior spirit. It fit her very well, and only grew your admiration for her.

“Do you heal with magic, then?” you asked.

“Not usually,” she said. “Only in very serious cases. And it’s not magic like people usually think of it, not party tricks and potions. It’s more... channeling energy, working with your own life force and the life force of the sick person.”

You and Din looked at each other, and you knew you were thinking the same thing. Life force, energy, healing - that all sounded uncannily similar to the powers your little one exhibited. No one knew of his healing powers aside from those who were there when he’d healed Greef, and to hear Omera talk about a similar power had your interests piqued.

Omera tried to read the tension between the two of you, a frown creasing her brow.

“Oh, dear,” she said. “I’ve offended you, haven’t I? Or frightened you with all this life force talk?”

“Not at all,” you assured her. “It actually sounds like... something we’ve heard of before. But what does it have to do with me?” 

Before Omera could answer, you felt Din stiffen beside you.

“Is it - is there something wrong?” he asked. “Her life force, is there something wrong with it?”

Omera’s smile was warm and comforting. “No,” she assured both of you. “There’s nothing wrong with it.”

“But you can... sense something about it?” he pressed. You put a hand on his arm, hoping to soothe him; though his posture eased a little at your touch, he still looked at Omera and waited for her answer.

She gave a gentle laugh. “Oh, I’ve done a bad job putting you at ease,” she said, apologetic and kind. “I’m sorry. Yes, I can sense something, and it’s nothing to be worried about. It’s actually very good. It must be early yet, if you don’t know what I’m talking about.”

Both of you shook your heads.

She smiled. “Well then, my dear friends. Let me be the first to congratulate you, because you’re going to have another baby.”

Both of you stilled. Then, before you’d quite found your voice - “We’re what?”

She laughed, the sound bright and happy.

“You’re pregnant,” she told you. “Your aura is unmistakable. The life force coming from you grows by the minute.”

Even before you’d had the chance to really process it, you felt yourself give a beaming smile. You were pregnant? Already? How could that be? You didn’t feel any different, and it had only been a few days ago that you and Din had started trying.

You looked over at him, a little overwhelmed with joy, and you wished you could see his face. He held his hand out to you, palm up on the table, and you put your hand in his.

“We’re having another baby?” he said, his voice hoarse through the modulator. He glanced over at Omera. “Are you sure?”

She beamed at the two of you. “Yes, I’m sure. It’s still early days, but I know a mother’s aura when I see it.”

Din squeezed your hand, and you didn’t need to see his face to know how much he loved you.

“Cyare,” he said. “We’re having another baby.”

“Oh, Din.” You felt a rush of happy tears; he released your hand to cradle your face, running his thumb over your cheek to catch the few that fell.

“Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum, cyar’ika,” he said softly. Though Omera and your baby probably understood what it meant, he’d made a point to say it in Mando’a, just for you. For his wife, the mother of his children, the woman he loved more than anything else in the world.

You leaned into his touch and said it back. You couldn’t stop smiling, and he gave a watery, affectionate laugh as he let you take his hand in yours again.

“Thank you for telling us,” Din said, turning to Omera.

She smiled. “You’re very welcome,” she said. “I’m so happy for you both.”

She took your other hand in hers, and you felt a wash of thankfulness to be so cared for by the people you loved. The excitement and happiness between the three of you was palpable, and you were so grateful to share it with your husband and your dearest friend.

“I want you to deliver this baby, Omera,” you said. Even when you were daydreaming about having another baby, you’d never thought about who you wanted to help you deliver; but there, in Omera’s warm, comfortable home with the sun sinking low, you knew you absolutely wanted it to be her.

“I would be honored,” she said sincerely, her smile warm. “It would be my pleasure to help bring another Djarin into the world.”

Your conversation drifted towards Omera’s experience with midwifery, and you were confident that no one in the galaxy would be better suited to help you deliver this baby. Between the two of you, you whiled away the evening in happy conversation. Din jumped in when he felt inclined, but you knew he was happy to take a breather and let you visit while both of you enjoyed the luxury of sitting at a friend’s table and enjoying her company.

Though he’d said you needed to leave when the sun set, Din let you linger as long as possible over the dregs of your tea and your visit with Omera. He was sweetly apologetic when he gently chimed in that you should be leaving, putting a hand on your arm when there was a lull in the conversation.

“I’m sorry, cyare, but we should head back to the Crest.”

You glanced outside and realized that night had well and truly fallen, and your baby was sound asleep in the crook of Din’s arm. It was later than Din had wanted to leave, and you felt a slight pang of guilt.

“Oh, dear, we completely lost track of time, didn’t we?” Omera said as the three of you rose. “Sorry, Din.”

He chuckled. “That’s alright. It was very nice to see you, Omera, as always. Thank you again for watching the little one.”

He accepted her warm embrace and angled the baby towards her, so she could give him a parting kiss on his forehead. Your baby stirred a little, then snuggled further into the cradle of Din’s arm.

Omera smiled. “Take good care of your clan for me, Djarin.”

“I will,” he said, and you knew he meant it.

Omera hugged you then, both of you holding each other close. 

“I love you,” she said.

You hugged her tighter. “I love you,” you said, your voice tight with emotion. You knew it would probably be a while before you saw her again, but at the very least, you’d see her in nine months.

She pressed a kiss to your cheek as she released you.

“Don’t be a stranger,” she said. “And take good care of yourself. I know it won’t be easy, but try not to get into too many dangerous scrapes, ok?”

You smiled. You and Din managed to get into scrapes like it was your job, and Omera knew it.

“I’ll certainly try my best,” you said. You gave her hand a final squeeze. “Thank you for everything.”

She walked you to the door, and gave a parting wave as Din helped you down the steps in the near-darkness. Winta came up as you were leaving, and Din lowered the baby so she could give him a kiss goodbye.

“Oh, this is probably yours,” Din said, realizing the baby still held onto the little toy soldier even as he slept.

Winta smiled. “It’s ok, Mr. Djarin. He can keep it.”

She gave you a quick hug, throwing her arms around your waist before she scampered up the steps to join her mother. You exchanged goodbyes again and took Din’s hand, letting him lead you through the village towards the clearing you’d landed the Crest in earlier.

“Sorry we’re leaving later than you wanted,” you said, leaning against his arm. “Thank you for letting us stay.”

You walked through the patches of light spilling from the rows of cosy huts, even Din’s tread light in the soft grass.

“You’re welcome,” he said. “No need to apologize. I’m sorry we couldn’t stay, cyare.”

Part of you did want to stay, but you were also happy to be going home together. Hopefully Din could set you on course for Trask and leave the Crest on autopilot so he could get some rest with you and the baby.

He handed the baby to you as the Crest’s ramp lowered, and you smiled to yourself as he put a steadying hand on your back while you walked up. You would have to get used to Din’s care taking on a little bit of anxiety and caution, now that you knew you were pregnant, but you would try your best to humor him and knew you wouldn’t mind the extra attention.

He reached up to turn the bay lights on, leaving them on the dimmer setting for your baby’s sake. “If you’ll get him settled, I’ll get us ready to leave.”

“Okay.” You touched your fingers to your mouth, then to the bottom of his visor. “Will you be able to come back down later?”

“Hopefully,” he said, heading towards the ladder. “I’ll have to see how clear our course is. You don’t need to wait up for me, if you’re tired.”

You didn’t think you were, but your bunk did look awfully inviting as you opened the door. The baby usually slept in his hammock above you, but he was sleeping peacefully in your arms and you didn’t want to let go of him just yet. You gently laid him on the bed next to you and curled around him, brushing a gentle finger over his ear.

You were overjoyed with your news. Another baby, and so quickly after you’d started trying. You hoped that your little ones would get along, and though there would certainly be difficulties to navigate, you knew your capacity for love would only grow as your little family did.

You hadn’t thought you could love anyone as much as you loved Din, when you married. When you became a mother, your love for your little one was different but just as strong, and you got to share that love with Din. That was the thing about love - it only grew the more people you had to share it with. You couldn’t wait to welcome your new baby and become a clan of four.

You were nearly asleep by the time Din came back down, lulled by the sound of the Crest’s engine as she sailed towards Trask and Din’s occasional tread above you. You watched as he took his armor off, putting everything in its rightful place.

Careful of the baby, you moved to sit on the edge of the bunk. Din raised a brow at you and you made grabby hands towards him.

“Come kiss me,” you said.

He smiled. “Demanding, aren’t you?”

He leaned down and cradled your face in his hands before kissing you soundly, all tenderness and slow touches. You were drowsy and very in love; he took his time, murmuring words of praise and affection as he kissed all over your face. His fingers traced under your jaw, behind your ears, down your neck; it tickled a little and you giggled as you pulled away from him.

“Quit that,” you said, though you didn’t really mind it.

He chuckled. “Sorry. I won’t do it anymore. Come here.”

You did as he said; his touch was less feather-light, but still gentle. His hands were rough and calloused from years of hard work, but they held you carefully and showed you how much your husband loved you.

He pulled back after a moment and just looked at you, studying your face with that steady, understanding gaze. He started to smile, showing the laugh lines and dimples you loved so dearly, and you couldn’t help but smile back.

“What?” you asked.

He shook his head. “I can’t believe we’re having another baby.”

You beamed up at him. “Me either. Isn’t it wonderful?”

“Yes, it’s wonderful,” he agreed. He kissed you again. “You’re wonderful. My beautiful, wonderful wife.”

You felt your cheeks pink a little and nuzzled his jaw. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

He chuckled. “Thank you.” He tipped your chin up so you would meet his eyes, and brushed his thumb over your bottom lip.

“You’re such a good mother, cyar’ika,” he said, and you knew how much he meant it. “I’m so glad our children have you.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, thinking of your own mother, thinking of how Din had lost his.

“Thank you,” you said, your voice a little wobbly. You cleared your throat, but the sting of tears still lingered.

“Happy tears, cyare?” he asked gently, brushing away the few that fell.

You nodded and gave a watery laugh. “Sorry I keep crying. I’m just... very happy. I wish I had better words to say it.”

He smiled. “I know what you mean,” he said. “You can cry as much as you need to, cyar'ika.”

You pressed your mouth to his again, and he eased the ache of too much joy - sharing it with him was even better than feeling it alone, and you were so thankful you were going to raise your children with him.

“Come to bed, my love,” you said gently. He gave you a few parting kisses before he pulled back; he took a moment to study you, his gaze soft and affectionate as he looked first at you and then at your son cuddled up in your bunk.

He let you get settled first, and then lay next to you with your son cradled snugly between you. He rested his hand on your stomach, protective of you and the new little one.

“I love you,” he said.

You gave him a chase kiss and tangled your legs together under the blankets. “I love you too.”

You tried to keep up a little bit of conversation, keeping your voice soft so as not to wake your baby; Din didn’t seem overly tired yet, and you knew he liked to lay with you and talk before he fell asleep. But snuggled close like you were, warm and safe and happy, you couldn’t keep your eyes open; he gave a gentle laugh and brushed his hand over your cheek.

“It’s alright, cyare,” he said tenderly. “Sleep, if you need to. I’m not going anywhere.”

You let yourself relax as he gently combed his fingers through your hair, humming a Mandalorian lullaby to you. There in your husband’s arms with your baby held close, snuggled into your bunk that would soon hold four instead of three, you drifted to sleep happier and more content than you had ever been.

pedro pascal character taglist: @punkgeekchic​, @tv-saved-the-teenage-girl​, @stardust-galaxies​, @theorganasolo​, @qhbr2013​ ♡

series taglist: @kyjoraven​, @sarahjkl82-blog​, @remmysbounty​, @bitchin-beskar​, @cosmicbreathe​, @prettyboyskywalker​, @happyxdayxbitch​​ ♡

[crystalninjaphoenix]

Wyvernlair

Fantasy Masks AU: Chapter Three

A JSE Fanfic

Ta-da! Another chapter! :D This is the one I was talking about, with a lot of worldbuilding and new characters. It’s also one of my longer stories, and I had to cut out a scene near the end, but don’t worry, you’ll see that next time. Now that Chase is officially part of the Masked Phantoms, it’s time for him to get to know the layout of Wyvernlair, meet new people, and learn new things. So get ready for a whole lot of all that. Hope you guys enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

It was clear that Jackie was eager to have someone new to show around Wyvernlair. He led the way, pointing out important features of the camp. Most of the center area was taken up by tents for people to stay in. In addition, there was an area dedicated to cooking, with campfires and stacks of pots and dishes, a wide, clear area for people to practice sword fighting and other combat, and a large space for storage.

All this was fairly normal for any camp. Or at least, that’s what Chase figured, considering he’d never been in a camp of any kind. But he was pretty sure that the massive skeleton made Wyvernlair much different than any other camp. Every bit had been planned around the bones embedded in the ground. The tents were encircled by the dragon. The cooking fires were dotted around the leg bones. The combat field was spread out along the wings that extended out from the rest of the body. And the storage was inside the oversized ribcage, canvas stretched over the gaps to keep out the weather.

Inside the ribs was the most incredible place Chase had ever been. He kept his head craned upward, following the curve of the ivory bones, each one big enough that it would take three full grown men to encircle it. The storage inside the ribcage was much less impressive in comparison, though he did have to admit he’d never seen this amount of weapons, armor, parchment, and foodstuffs in one place. Not to mention all the miscellaneous items as well, like lanterns and chests for storage.

“Oh, you need a jacket!” Jackie suddenly said, bringing Chase back to the conversation. “You can take one of the communal ones, over here.” He grabbed Chase’s hand and pulled him to the side of the ribs, where the chests were full of various clothing, each labeled with types and sizes. “Unless you’re a cloak person?”

“Uh, no, I...jackets are good,” Chase said dazedly.

“Great! What are you, a five?” Jackie waited for Chase to nod, then headed over to the appropriate chest. “We don’t have that many fives left...a lot of people have measurements around there.” He flipped open the chest lid. “Um...yeah, there’s just one. Hope you like yellow.” After a bit of rummaging, he pulled out a dull flaxen jacket and tossed it in Chase’s direction.

Chase fumbled for a bit before catching it. It was a fairly normal jacket, and he quickly pulled it on. Autumn in the mountains was not a time to walk around without one. He’d been chilly all through their walk.

“Alright, all that’s left is the skull,” Jackie said. “I don’t know how often you’ll be in there, but it’s good to—”

“I’m sorry, I’m still caught up on the fact that I’m inside a dragon skeleton,” Chase interrupted.

Henrik, who’d been following the tour quietly and letting Jackie do all the talking, suddenly burst into laughter. “I told you. It is shocking, isn’t it?”

“Well...yes!” Chase looked back up at the curve of the ribs above him, slowly shaking his head. “I heard dragons were large, but I didn’t really...picture it, before this.”

“Technically, this is not the skeleton of a full-blooded great dragon,” Henrik said.

“What?”

“The dragon that most people think of, with four legs and two or more wings? That is a great dragon,” Henrik explained. “I’m sure you noticed this one only has two legs; it was likely a wyvern/great dragon crossbreed.”

“Hence the name ‘Wyvernlair,’” Jackie added.

“What’s the difference?” Chase asked.

“Wyverns only had two legs and larger wings. They walked a bit like birds do,” Henrik continued. “And they were usually much smaller. There are some accounts of humans riding them. So this was either an abnormally large wyvern, or it was a crossbreed with the great dragons. Which, yes, could grow as big as this, but that was not so common.”

“Elders,” Chase muttered. The fact that there were once creatures as large as this roaming the land, big enough to encircle half a town...it made him glad they weren’t around anymore.

“It was really lucky that we found this place,” Jackie said. “Not because of the skeleton, but because of its location. There are no trees growing near the bones, so we have room to spread out, and we have our backs to a rock wall, which makes it more defensible.” He paused. “Anyway, the last part on our tour is the skull, and then we can set you up with a tent. Oh, actually, the spare tents are kept here. Let’s grab that now.”

“I get my own?” Chase said, surprised.

“Of course, we have plenty to spare,” Jackie said casually. “We brought a whole bunch up, but recruitment has been slow.”

“Nonexistent,” Henrik muttered. He reached into one of his belt pouches and took out a small flask, taking a quick drink.

“Well...yes,” Jackie admitted. “But let’s go, we’re almost done!”

The skull was just as massive as the rest of the skeleton, with wicked sharp teeth as tall as Chase. He stared at them as Jackie and Henrik led him around to the back, where there was a slight gap where the skull met the spine. They passed through that gap and ended up inside. Much like the ribs, the skull had been converted into a room, with canvas blocking the eye sockets and nasal cavity to make a rough roof. This wasn’t as large as the storage, but it was still at least three times as large as Chase’s cottage. There were more chests in here, and a few rickety desks where people—masks always nearby—sat, reading and writing on parchment. They all glanced up as the three men entered the room, then looked away.

In the middle of the skull was a large circular table, made of solid, dark wood and surrounded by chairs. Various maps were spread out on the surface of the table, held down with weights.

Chase glanced at the largest map, and immediately recognized it as a map of the kingdom of Glasúil. A detailed one, too, covering almost all of the island. The Dragon’s Teeth mountains ran down the center, with the smaller Northaven range branching off to the east, along the northern shore. The Southern Moors were present, slowly merging into the sea. Rivers and forests he’d never heard of crossed the parchment, and each major town and city was represented by a labeled black dot. The only part of the map left blank was the area to the west of the Dragon’s Teeth, which simply had “Wyldwood” written across it.

“Oh hey, you like the maps?” Jackie asked, noticing Chase’s attention. “We use those for planning stuff. A lot of strategy and meetings happen here. This is also where we keep all our records and sort through all our messages with other Phantom locations. Since you’re part of the group now, you’ll eventually go on missions, and if that’s the case, you’ll have to write a report and deliver it here.”

“Missions?” Chase repeated. His head was starting to swim a bit with all the new information.

“Well, if you want to,” Jackie said awkwardly. “I mean, you could stay here and do medicine with Henrik, or be part of our administration—”

“Administration?” This time, Chase laughed a bit when he repeated the word.

“Organization is very important,” Schneep emphasized. “There are a lot of us, and we do a lot of things. If we have no organization then we do not know what we’re doing!”

“Yeah, and those things we do are...missions,” Jackie said.

“Alright, what kind of...missions?” Chase asked.

“Depends. We might need to investigate someplace, or something, or someone. We might need to go in and stop an act of injustice, or rescue people who’ve been hurt.” Jackie paused. “If...if we’d heard about the King’s plans for the mountain villages to burn, then we could have...shown up. In time.”

Chase felt his stomach twist at the mention of the burning villages. There was guilt in Jackie’s voice; he clearly felt awful that the Phantoms couldn’t do anything to prevent that. “Well.” Chase took a deep breath. “I guess we’ll have to make sure things like that don’t happen again.”

Jackie nodded. Henrik placed a hand on his shoulder, and that seemed to steady him. He drew himself to his full height and stiffened his posture. “Exactly. The King may think he can get away with any of this, just because of his position. But the people will not stand for it. We will not stand for it. As long as his actions cause death and damage, we will work to remove him.”

For a moment, Chase was in awe at the resolve Jackie showed. He wasn’t that physically intimidating, being almost a head shorter than Chase and a head and a half shorter than Henrik, but he had a commanding aura. Maybe the strength of his conviction was catching. “Exactly,” Chase said. “That’s—that’s what I want to do.” His simple statement sounded lame in comparison.

Jackie smiled. “And that’s why we’re so glad to have you.” He relaxed a bit, looking over at Henrik. “And if Schneep likes you, then I do, too.”

Chase couldn’t hold back a laugh. “I-I’m sorry? What did you call him?”

Henrik’s expression fell. He took his hand off Jackie’s shoulder and pushed him with his shoulder. “I told you, stop using that.”

“But it’s so fun to say,” Jackie said cheerfully. “Chase, did you know that Henrik’s surname is Schneeplestein?”

Chase fought to stifle his giggles. Now he remembered that particular fact from his first meeting with Henrik. “That’s—well, I’m sure that’s a usual surname in Alterde—”

“It is not,” Henrik said wearily. “It sounds just as ridiculous over there. Go ahead, laugh about it. Get it out of your mind now.”

“No no, I’m fine, I promise.” Chase coughed a bit, clearing his throat of laughter. “At least you have a surname.”

“Ah, it is common to have one where I am from,” Henrik waved away the comment. “I know here it is a nobility thing, but not in Alterde or its neighbors.”

“Really?” Chase said, interested.

“Really. And it is much easier than your family names,” Henrik said bluntly, turning to leave.

“Hey! Wait for us!” Jackie took Chase’s hand and the two of them followed Henrik out of the dragon’s skull.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Chase? Are you awake?”

The first thing Chase heard when waking up was someone calling his voice. Instinctively, he rolled over and stretched his arm to the right. Only to be met with nothing but empty space. Oh. Right.

He opened his eyes to a canvas wall and ceiling. He’d gotten his tent yesterday, and Jackie had shown him how to set it up in a spot near the dragon spine. From there, the rest of the day had passed slowly. Awkwardly, too, as Chase didn’t feel up to approaching any of the masked people who were part of the Phantoms. It felt...strange. Like he was constantly intruding on something. So he just spent time in his tent, and when dinnertime rolled around, he showed up to get some stew from the cooking fires then went off to eat on his own. Eventually, the sun set, and he figured that was time to go to bed.

“Chase?” The voice called again.

“Henrik?” Chase asked, sitting up and wiggling out of the bedroll he’d been given.

“Oh, you are awake. Can I open the flap?”

“Go ahead.” It wasn’t like he was indecent or anything. He was actually still wearing his clothes from the day before. Maybe he should check out the storage, see if they had anything else he could use.

Henrik pushed open the flap of the tent and ducked inside, pushing his owl mask up onto his forehead. “Ah, good. I have something for you.” He held out a folded piece of parchment.

Puzzled, Chase took it. “What is this?” He asked as he unfolded it.

“Well, now that you are a Phantom, there are some things you need to be familiar with,” Henrik said. “Jackie put together a schedule for you for today.”

Chase silently looked at the words. He blinked. Then squinted. Then looked back up at Henrik. “Um...I’m sorry, but I...can’t read this.”

Henrik didn’t even have a response for that. “You...cannot read?”

“I can, but only a little,” Chase admitted. “I know the alphabet and numbers, but as for words, I can read what I’m familiar with. Food, animal names, archery gear. Things like that.” He trailed off into a mumble, somehow embarrassed. Reading had never been an issue before. Everyone in town knew enough to get by. But now, he wondered...was that not normal?

“That’s okay,” Henrik said, picking up on Chase’s tone. “Jackie was the same way. We had to teach him.” He chuckled a bit at the memory. “I will explain, then. After breakfast, you will meet with Nemet in the infirmary, she will give you a basic medicine check. To see what you know and fill you in on anything you need. Then you will head down to the tip of the tail, and meet a man there called Tripp. I understand you do not know that much about magic, so he will give you an overview. Then there will be lunch, and then you will head to the combat field to start training with Holly and Lukas.”

Chase started. “What was that last name?”

“Lukas,” Henrik repeated. “You will probably be working with him more, since you seem inclined with bows, and not closer combat.”

“Right.” Chase nodded. That name sounded familiar, like he’d heard it recently...

“Then come back for dinner, and I will check up on you,” Henrik continued. “And by then, hopefully you will know what you want to do most in the group. Medicine, organization, and such. And we will get you a temporary mask.”

“So, why masks?” Chase asked. “I like the idea, but...why? Who came up with it?”

“Oh, the mask concept was Jackie’s idea, but the animal part was added by—by someone else,” Henrik said. There was an odd pause there...was he going to say something else? A name, perhaps? “We wear masks so people will not recognize us. Many of us have friends and family who would be at risk if the King’s people knew we were working against him. Like, for me. You know I am a traveling doctor, yes? Well, when I met you last year, I was already working with the Phantoms. Can you imagine what would happen if someone recognized me as a rebel?”

Chase shivered. “Yea, I can.” If the King was willing to burn down the mountain villages for an unknown reason, what would he do to find one of the rebels? With that thought in mind, he slowly stood up. “So...I’ll get started, then. Meeting with all these strangers.”

“Do not be nervous, Chase,” Henrik said gently. “Everyone new we find has to go through something like this. And these are some of our best people.”

“Thanks,” Chase said. “That’s good to know.” Still, his stomach was slowly tying itself in knots as he headed towards the cooking fires, about to start the day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After a quick breakfast of toasted bread—light, but with those stomach knots, still hard to get through—Chase headed up the gentle slope towards the infirmary cave in the rock wall. Slipping through the flap in the canvas, he found it unchanged from the day before, when he’d been discharged. Nobody was inside, except for...

“Ibis?” Chase asked.

“Hello, Chase.” Ibis smiled at him. Her mask was off, revealing her features and round, dark eyes for the first time. “It’s good to see you again. And please, my name is Nemet.”

“Oh! Oh, I’m supposed to meet with you.” That explained why she was standing near the entrance, she was waiting for him.

“Yes, yes.” Nemet nodded. “Henrik has told me to give you a basics in medicine.” She turned and headed towards the back, indicating he should follow. “Come, come. This shouldn’t take too long.”

Nemet had set three chests on top of each other, making a sort of rough chest-height table. On top of the flat surface of the chest-table were a series of bottles and bags, each one neatly labeled. “Here. These are some of our common tonics and medicines we use here. Tell me what you recognize.”

Chase considered the layout before him. There were probably about thirty in total, if he had to guess. “This is for colds, right? And fevers? And this one, too. And these dried leaves, they’re for nausea. Oh, and this will put you to sleep if you put it in water or stew. This is a salve, also for fevers. And this is a balm for sores. And this will stop infection on cuts and scrapes. And...that’s what I know.”

“Impressive,” Nemet nodded.

“Really? That’s only a fraction of the total,” Chase said doubtfully.

“Most people who join up only know redleaf, bainruish, and seedbane.” Nemet indicated each medicine as she listed them. “Fevers, cuts, and...well, I’m sure you know what seedbane is for, even if you said nothing. You are married, after all.” She laughed as Chase slowly turned red. “Ah, my apologies. The point is, you are ahead of most others.”

“Do we really need all of these?” Chase asked, quickly moving on.

“Oh, yes. You know that when people gather together that sicknesses spread easily. Many of these will help to cure a specific disease, while others are a general tonic, like redleaf.” Nemet paused, then picked up about ten of the medicines and put them on the floor. “Henrik says you are not so much caught up on magic, so we will leave these ones out of our discussion for now.”

Chase started at that. The concept of mixing medicine with magic made him...uneasy. He may not know that much about magic, but he knew it could be dangerous. “I was wondering, Nemet, what did you do before you joined the Phantoms? I know Henrik’s a traveling doctor, are you the same?”

“Not exactly.” Nemet shrugged. “I was a student of medicine back home.”

“And where was that?”

“A land called Kha’Nyphthis.” Nemet grinned a bit at Chase’s confused expression. “You would not have heard of it. It is to the south, on another continent, but not the same continent as Henrik’s Alterde. We have great schools and libraries there, the best in the world. I was learning to become a doctor, and had almost finished my schooling, but one of the final requirements was to learn the medicine of another land. I chose here, Glasúil, because you are well-known for your medicine. But then I arrived, and saw the state of things, and...ah, well.” Her expression fell for a moment.

“I’m...sorry,” Chase said awkwardly. “Do you...ever think about going back?”

Nemet nodded briefly. “Of course. I have family, friends. But I cannot just abandon things. It’s not in my nature to leave things unsettled.” She took a deep breath, and moved on. “But as for your basics in medicine, let me start by getting you familiar with the ones you didn’t know.”

It was a while later before Chase left the infirmary, his head feeling stuffed with all the new information Nemet had drilled into him. Already, some of it was starting to slip away. And he immediately knew that he could never be a doctor. If these were the basics, he couldn’t even begin to think about what would be required to complete the training to become one.

But he didn’t have time to let all that new knowledge sink in. Judging by the sun’s position, it was getting close to noon, and to lunch. He still had to meet up with someone else before it was time to eat. So he hurried onward, running along the curve of the dragon’s bones, following them as they got smaller and smaller, until they eventually merged into the packed ground. Chase slowed to a stop and looked around, confused. This was the end of the tail, wasn’t it? So...where was—

“Hey you’re the new one, right?”

Chase yelped and spun around. A man was sitting between the spine bones of the dragon, almost unnoticeable in the shadow between them. “Yeah, that’s me,” he said slowly. “Are you, uh...Tripp?”

The man nodded, hopped to his feet, and walked over to Chase. Standing up, he was short, even shorter than Jackie. He wore a dark brown cloak that reached his knees, and of course, a mask. This one was shaped like a ram’s head, complete with curved horns, and the black symbol on the forehead was actually four different symbols arranged in a diamond formation. After a moment of looking at them, Chase realized they were the suits often used on playing cards. How...odd. The man reached up and took off the mask, ruffling his golden brown hair and revealing dark eyes. “Tripp, son of Seamus,” he said shortly. “And you are...?”

“Chase. Son of Brody,” Chase said automatically. “Henrik told you I was—”

“You’re not up-and-up on magic and need a course, yea,” Tripp interrupted, swinging his mask around his finger. Chase took a step back despite already being far away. If that went flying, those plaster horns would do some damage. “And he asked me to do it ‘cause I’m our second best guy.”

“You’re the—?”

“What do you know already, Brodyson?” Tripp continued. “Ever met a magic-wielder?”

“There were a handful in town—”

“Sorcerer, wizard, enchanter, oracle, witch?”

“I...what?” Chase blinked. “I...think they were all sorcerers.”

“How many?”

“Only a handful, about six or seven?”

“For a village of four hundred or so people?” Tripp laughed. “Everyone must’ve been magically impotent.”

“Could you slow down?!” Chase snapped. “I thought you were supposed to teach me about magic, not make fun of me for not knowing anything!”

Tripp paused. Then grinned. “It’s just banter, Brodyson. I didn’t mean offense. But hey, you called me out. Good on you for that. My apologies.” His grin faded. “But I’m not jokin’ about that. There should’ve been at least four times that number of magic-wielders in a town that size. What happened? Were the seekers bein’ lazy for the past few years?”

“...Seekers?” Chase repeated, puzzled.

Tripp looked up at the sky. “Oh, elders. They haven’t been showin’ up at all, have they? If you don’t even know about them—alright, we’ll start from the beginning, then.” He sat down on the ground, folding his legs under him. Slowly, Chase sat down across from him. “You know of the five branches, right? I’m pretty sure everyone in the world’s at least heard their names.”

“Yes,” Chase said, nodding. Wizards, sorcerers, enchanters, oracles, and witches. He mostly heard about them in stories, and was especially fuzzy on the details about those last three.

“A common mistake people make is thinkin’ these are all different things.” Tripp started drawing in the dirt with his finger. “When really, all magic is the same. It’s like a tree—just because each branch might look different, doesn’t mean they don’t all come from the same trunk.” And, in keeping with that metaphor, he drew a rough outline of a tree with five different branches. “All magics can work with each other, and there’s a lot of similarities in between them. For example, do you know the difference between wizardry and sorcery? They’re the two most well-known of the branches.”

“Um...if I’m being honest, I’d always been under the impression that wizardry was more powerful,” Chase said tentatively.

Tripp snorted in disbelief. “Some wizards would like to think that. But no. More varied, yes. But not more powerful. Here, it’ll be easier if I go over them all one by one.” He started to draw symbols by each of the branches, starting with a crude stick figure. “Sorcery is the most common magic besides witchcraft. It crops up in people at random. If you got twenty-five people in a room together, one would probably be a sorcerer, even if they didn’t know it. Its source is inside the person themself. And what it does is manipulate the world. Like...this.”

He pressed a flat hand against the ground next to him. After a moment, the dirt started to move. Then suddenly, pillars of rock shot through the dirt, rising from underneath the surface. Chase gaped as the solid stone started to twist, winding around each other to form a braid of rock. Then Tripp removed his hand, and the rock froze, as if it had never been moving in the first place. For a moment, Chase was stunned, then he managed to ask, “S-so you’re a sorcerer, then?”

“Exactly,” Tripp grinned. “Why d’you look so surprised? You said you knew sorcerers before.”

“Well...yes, but I hadn’t...seen their magic too much,” Chase admitted. He remembered one time when Gwen, the weaver’s daughter, had pulled water out of the well. It just streamed out of the depths and sailed right into her bucket. But occasions like that were few and far between.

“Hmm.” Tripp scrunched his face up, thinking. “Well, besides that. Each branch of magic has its strengths and weaknesses. Sorcery’s strength is that it comes from within. As long as a sorcerer doesn’t drain too much energy, they can use their magic forever. And its weakness is that you need a material to manipulate. Like just now, I reached down and pulled rock up from underground. But there’s a limit to the range where your magic can affect things.”

Chase nodded. “What about wizardry, then?”

Tripp sketched a rough outline of a necklace next to another branch of the tree. “Its strength is its variety. Wizards aren’t limited by what things are present, they can conjure out of thin air. But its weakness is in this: the ‘focus.’” He tapped the necklace drawing. “Unlike sorcery, wizardry doesn’t come from within. Wizards are channelin’ it from outside, from the layer of magic that coats the world. But to do so, they need a specially-made thing called a focus. It’s usually a necklace, ‘cause that’s handy, but it can be any shape, as long as it’s made the right way. These dragon bones, for example. They’d be real good to make focuses with.” He knocked on the nearest bone. “About one in fifty people are able to channel wizardry.”

“And now we reach the end of my knowledge,” Chase mutters. “What’s the next most common?”

Tripp paused. “Enchantment.” The image he drew in the dirt now was a misshapen lump. “Damn. That’s supposed to be a brain.”

“Ah. Right. Because enchantment is the magic of the mind, isn’t it?” Chase recalled, casting his memories back to the stories he’d heard that included enchanters.

“Hmm. Yea.” Tripp pursed his lips. “How do I explain them...Well, strengths. They’re the only magic that can work with your mind. Illusions, talking in your head, things like that. But as for their weaknesses, enchanters can’t change the world for real.”

“Is it true that enchanters can control your actions?” Chase asked. “There’s a story, the Dark Damoen—”

“The crazy old man who made Erinthold worship him as a god? That’s a famous one.” Tripp nodded. “Well, it’s true. Some could change your thoughts and make you do things you wouldn’t. But that takes a lot of power, and besides, most enchanters are decent people, like all the rest of us. It’s just that we remember the bad ones because they shock us. And only about one in a hundred people are enchanters, anyway. Don’t worry about it. There are a few Masked Phantoms who are enchanters.”

Chase nodded slowly. The thought of the old story sent shivers down his back, but he should probably trust the magic-wielder. He clearly knew more “What about...the oracles?”

Tripp drew a symbol of an eye in the dirt. “Those are the rarest one. You only get an oracle one in a thousand, if you’re lucky, and they’re not usually that powerful. You’ve probably heard that they issue prophecies of what’s to come, or that they might even be able to manipulate time itself. Well that’s all bullshit.”

“Wh—” Chase was so surprised at the frankness that he choked on his own gasp. After a few moments of coughing, he continued in a hoarse voice. “What do you mean?”

“Oracles can’t manipulate time, that’s the most insane rumor goin’ round about magic there ever was,” Tripp stated. “They get visions of what’s most likely to happen. It’s not for sure, and really, most oracles are wrong. But huge strength there, knowing the most likely future. And it comes with a big weakness. A couple, actually. One, they have to speak their visions out loud while it’s happenin’. It’s a magic...what’s the word?” He snapped his fingers for a bit. “Compulsion. That’s it. They’re literally forced to do it, can’t stop that. And two, the visions are all they can do. They have no other magic. And because of that, some say that oracles are cursed, not gifted.”

Chase thought about that. If he had the choice, would he take knowing the future for being forced to share it? Maybe. Maybe if he knew what could happen next, he could stop terrible things. Like...his heart panged, and he shied away from the thought. No, that didn’t sound too bad. People would also know what the future held, what of it? He’d take that risk.

“And the last magic,” Tripp said, snapping Chase out of his thoughts. “Witchcraft. It’s actually the most common.”

“Really?” Chase said doubtfully.

“I bet you’re goin’ by the stories, where witches are old people that stay in shacks and give out potions,” Tripp said, drawing a bottle next to the final branch. “But really, the magic of witchcraft isn’t in people, like all the others. It’s in the land. It’s part of the world’s magic. Plants with strange properties, the parts of magical animals...these can be mixed together to create amazing effects. And anyone could learn how to do it. In fact, most of us here have.”

Chase suddenly remembered earlier, how Nemet had put away some of the medicines during their meeting. It was because he didn’t know much about magic...“Wait, you mean anyone could make potions? Become a witch?”

“Well, not anyone,” Tripp muttered. “If you have magic of your own, you can’t learn witchcraft. The knowledge just slips away, and if we try anyway, nothing works, even if it should. You can’t use more than one magic. It’d be like tryin’ to hold onto every single branch of a tree.”

“If the tree was small, though?” Chase joked.

“It’s not. The magic tree is big, and the branches are the type where you need to hold on with both hands,” Tripp said firmly.

“Oh. I...see.” Chase cleared his throat. Clearly, using more than one magic wasn’t something to make light of. It was too impossible. “And...what about those seekers you mentioned earlier?”

Tripp was eager to move on. “Seekers are wizards that can sense the presence of magic. What’s supposed to happen is that these seekers are supposed to stop by every town twice every year. In practice, that’s faded away. Most towns only see them once a year, and the farther away you get from Suilthair, the less often you’ll see them. My town where I grew up, they came by every three years. But if you don’t know what they are, then...have you ever seen them?”

At that, Chase had a vague memory of a group of strangers visiting Hilltown when he was a child. They were dressed finely, and the image of an elaborate brooch one of them was wearing flashed in his mind. The next day, Hanson, an old friend of his, announced to all the kids that he was going away for ‘special school.’ “Not in years. Long enough for me to forget what they are.”

Tripp huffed. “I bet it’s not worth the effort to come all the way up here. Bunch of nambies.” He rolled his eyes. “Seekers are employed by the royal family. They find young magic-wielders and offer to give them schoolin’, to learn how to use their magic. Schoolin’ that’s funded by the crowns. It’s not required—I never went—but it’s encouraged. Otherwise you might end up having magic shootin’ out of your—”

“Is that why most wizards side with the King?” Chase asked, remembering what Henrik said about the source of the village fire.

“Part of it. But wizards especially have a reason to keep on the King’s good side.” Tripp paused. “Those focuses I told you ‘bout, that wizards need to use their magic? The crowns fund the makin’ of those, too. And the sellin’. And everything about them.”

“Oh.” Chase’s eyes widened with realization. “So...if a wizard decided to oppose the King, then there’s a chance that...they wouldn’t have access to a focus anymore? And...their magic?”

Tripp nodded. “That’s why most of us magic-wielders in the Phantoms are sorcerers and a few enchanters.”

“No oracles?”

“Oh, elders, no. You heard how hard they are to find. Wish we had some, though. That’d be helpful.” Tripp stretched his arms, then stood up. “Anyway, that’s all I have to say. You got it all?”

“I think so, yes,” Chase said slowly. He looked up to the sky, mentally reviewing everything he’d heard. Sorcery, wizardry, enchantment, oraclulary, and witchcraft. All very different, all with things they could do and limitations that slowed them down. That made sense. He nodded to himself...and then noticed the position of the sun. “Shit!” Chase shot to his feet. “It’s noon! I have—after lunch, I—”

“More meetings, huh?” Tripp raised an eyebrow, then pulled his ram mask back on. “Let me guess...Lukas and Holly? Better hurry, Brodyson. Not good to be late for those two.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chase swung by the cooking fires to grab some food, then hurried over to the combat fields, along the dragon’s wings. Originally, he wondered if the wing bones would get it the way, but apparently the dragon had died with its wings spread out as far as they could be, leaving ample room in between the bones. The packed dirt was lined with targets, crude dummies made of sacks of hay tied to sticks, and racks of wooden training weapons. Occasionally there were random chests or tents set up to create obstacles to fight around. As he ran out onto the fields, he passed many people, some sparring in groups, others practicing on their own. None of them paid him any mind.

Now that he was here, he wasn’t sure where to go. The fields took up all of the space cleared by the wings, which was, as it turned out, quite a lot. Maybe he should have asked Henrik for descriptions of the people he’d be meeting with. Feeling his nerves eating away at his stomach, he turned to the nearest person, and asked, quietly, “Excuse me, I’m looking for Lukas and Holly?”

The person turned around, looked down at him, and smiled. “Oh, it’s you! You’re the new one!”

“Um...yes,” Chase said slowly. It was just now occurring to him how...big this person was—this woman was, actually, judging by her voice. She towered over him, and her sleeveless tunic showed off the muscles of her tattooed arms. Strange to be wearing no sleeves in the chill mountain air, but she probably wasn’t bothered.

“I’m Holly.” Her smile widened. “Daughter of Rose.”

“Oh!” Chase blinked. That name didn’t fit her at all. But alright, he wasn’t one to say anything. “Chase, son of Brody.”

“Lovely to meet you.” Holly grabbed his hand and vigorously shook it. She wasn’t wearing her mask, but it hung around her neck. A bear. And the symbol on its forehead was the same as the one on Jackie’s wolf mask: a circle with two dots inside.  “Me and Lukas, we’re in charge of combat up in Wyvernlair. Speaking of which...” She turned around. “Luke! He’s here!”

Chase leaned around Holly to look at who she was addressing...and suddenly felt cold, despite his jacket. Now he remembered where he heard that name before. While he’d been sick with the shivering in the infirmary, he’d overheard a conversation between Jackie and a man in a fox mask. That man had wanted to throw him out of camp, but Jackie had refused...and now, Chase was staring at that very same man.

“I can see that,” Lukas said shortly. He was facing a series of targets, and didn’t turn to look at Holly and Chase. Instead he merely took another arrow from a quiver on his back, nocked it on his bow, and shot. The arrow flew straight into the center of the farthest target, which was barely the size of a hand spread wide.

“No you can’t, you didn’t even look!” Holly scowled, and turned back around. “Sorry about him, Chase. He’s been snippy.”

“Well I wouldn’t be snippy if I hadn’t been standing out here for an hour, waiting for someone who didn’t bother to show up on time,” Lukas snapped.

“I’m not an hour late,” Chase protested weakly. Even behind the fox mask, Lukas’s expression was twisted with frustration and annoyance.

“It’s a matter of principle,” Lukas said, finally turning to face Chase. When he did, Chase noticed the symbol on his mask for the first time: an X, with a dot to either side.

“Let’s just get into it,” Holly said, folding her arms. “Now, Chase. You’re a hunter, yes? So you have some experience with shortbows.”

“I can shoot, yes,” Chase agreed. “But I’ve never heard the term ‘shortbow’ before.” Lukas rolled his eyes, a motion that was partially hidden by the mask but still visible enough for Chase to catch.

“It means a smaller bow, in comparison to Lukas’s massive beast of a longbow over there.” Holly gestured towards Lukas’s bow; it was almost as tall as him. “Shortbows are better for mobility and closer range, while longbows are more suited for staying stationary and shooting long distances.”

“Ah.” Chase nodded. That made sense; bigger bows were more powerful, but also harder to draw back and move around. Amabel once tried to shoot Chase’s own bow when she was seven, and couldn’t pull the string even a little.

“I’m assuming you’re a fairly good shot,” Holly said, rubbing her chin. “So you’ll probably need to work with me more. I’m in charge of close-range combat, while Lukas handles the long range, with bows. So if we’re to—”

“Hold on a moment, Holly,” Lukas interrupted. “I want to see what he can do.”

Holly shot Lukas a dirty look. “There’s no need—”

“Of course there is. We should know what our starting point is.” Lukas turned and walked towards a nearby weapons rack, picking out a smaller shortbow and a quiver of matching arrows. He headed back to the others and thrust the tools at Chase. “Show me how well you hunt.”

“...alright. I will.” Chase took the bow and quiver slowly. He didn’t like being tested, especially not when the test was proposed by a man who clearly thought he was some sort of spy for the King and might be looking for an excuse to kick him out. Should he pretend to be worse than he actually was? No, that would just be complicated. He’d shoot normally.

He stepped up to the place Lukas had been standing, facing the targets, and strapped the quiver onto his back. For a moment, he examined the bow. Solidly built. Looked newer than the one he used back home. And had these odd curves...was this a recurve model? He’d heard of them, but never used one before.

“Soon, please!” Lukas called.

Holly promptly hit him on the back of the head. “Take your time, Chase! Don’t worry!”

Chase nodded. His mouth was suddenly very dry. But he swallowed his nerves, adjusted his stance, and nocked an arrow. He hit it against the back of his head in the process of taking it out of the quiver—not being used to wearing it on his back—and glanced back at the two watching to gauge their reactions. Holly looked supportive, but Lukas was unreadable. He looked away again.

There were ten arrows in the quiver and ten targets set up in front of him. He must need to hit all of them. So he drew back, aimed, and let loose the arrow.

Ten arrows.

Five of them hit the closest targets. Two of those hit their target’s center.

One hit the edge of one of the farther targets.

The remaining four missed.

Feeling a sinking feeling in his stomach, he turned back to Holly and Lukas.

“Wow. That was the most utterly average thing I’ve ever seen,” Lukas said bluntly.

“You hit more than I can!” Holly said positively, giving him a short round of applause. “That’s great!”

Chase nodded silently. “I...I’m not used to this bow.”

Lukas hummed. He went to collect the arrows, giving Chase a side-eyed look as he walked past. It seemed as though his suspicions hadn’t been assuaged. If anything, he looked even more wary.

Holly walked up to Chase and clapped a hand on his shoulder. Chase promptly lost his balance from the force of the contact, and Holly helped him right himself. “Sorry about that,” she said. “And sorry about Lukas. He’s just...he has a hard time trusting people. I’m sure you’ll win him over.”

“It’s fine,” Chase said distantly. “I mean, not everyone’s going to immediately welcome someone new into a group like this. You need to keep secret. There are risks.” Still, Lukas’s distrust, combined with his mediocre shooting skills, left him feeling a bit down. Like a cloud passing over the sun, everything just seemed...disappointing.

Lukas returned, arrows in hand. “Do it again,” he said.

“Elders and Sisters, Luke, we don’t have all day,” Holly protested. 

“He needs to practice,” Lukas said, stone-faced.

“He needs to start with me! You can’t handle all your problems from a distance, especially in our situation. What’s he to do if a King’s man jumps him from behind and all he has are arrows?”

“It’s fine,” Chase repeated. He rubbed his arm; they hadn’t given him an arm guard, and despite the jacket fabric, his skin still stung from the bow string. “We have until dinner.”

Holly gave him a look, but sighed and stepped back. “One hour of shooting, then it’s my turn.”

Lukas nodded. “Deal.”

Chase sighed a bit, and took the arrows from Lukas. It was turning out to be a long day.

[hysterialevi]

Hagall - A Sigurd/Male Eivor Fanfic

**SPOILERS FOR SUTHSEXE ARC BELOW**

Fanfic summary: After rescuing Sigurd from Fulke's cruelties, Eivor works on helping his brother recover from his trauma.

Point of view: third-person

Pairing: Sigurd Styrbjornson x Male Eivor

KINGDOM OF SUTHSEXE

BAELFRITH

Hair as red as fire. Eyes as cold as ice. A wrath that burned brighter than Surtr’s mythical sword.

The Saxons watched in terror as the Norse warrior carved his way through their settlement, tearing apart its very foundation in an attempt to find the woman who took his arm.

He shouted in a Devilish tongue that none of them understood, and with every guardsman that he cut down, the more the ground seemed to vanish underneath a new layer of blood.

There were fresh corpses scattered all over the village, and due to the flames that ravaged the settlement, most of its people now lay buried beneath a tombstone of ash, their faces frozen in fear as the world around them burned like a pyre.

It was Hell on earth, and only one man had caused it.

“BRING ME FULKE!” The viking roared above all the chaos, swinging his sword into another guard as he headed for the longhouse. “I know she’s here!”

Stomping his way up the hill that led to the longhouse’s entrance, the Norse refused to stop for anything as he stormed through a crowd of terrified civilians, all of them scurrying away in fear upon noticing his presence.

“Flee, everyone!” A Saxon man yelled in horror. “Flee for your lives! The Devil himself is in Baelfrith!”

Ignoring the panicked screams of the villagers, the viking continued on his fervent path for vengeance and planted a firm foot in the door of the longhouse, breaking it free from its hinges as it wildly swung open.

There were only a few people inside -- most notably, the thegn of this settlement -- and with no one around to stop him, the viking hurried into the building, ready to get the information he needed.

Just before he could progress however, a familiar voice called out to the Norse, halting him in his tracks.

“Sigurd!” Eivor exclaimed, jogging up to the man. “Wait!”

The viking turned around to face his brother, his gaze still wild from the recent battle.

“What is it?” He asked sharply, sounding more harsh than he intended.

Eivor furrowed his brow in concern, unable to hide the worry he felt.

“I just...” the younger man took a breath, trying to calm himself down, “...I want you to think about this, brother. Are you certain this is what you want to do? Interrogating Aldrich, I mean.”

The older man obviously didn’t share his partner’s skepticism. “Why wouldn’t it be? Thegn Aldrich can tell us where Fulke is hiding. He’s protecting her. I know he is.”

Eivor’s fear quickly turned into frustration. “And you really think he’s going to help us? After we just burned down his settlement and slaughtered his people? I love you, Sigurd, but this...” he gestured at the destruction around them, “this is not who you are.”

Sigurd stepped closer to Eivor, his figure towering over him.

“Then you haven’t been paying attention.” He said lowly. “We are warriors, Eivor. Sons of Odin. We are born and bred for Valhalla. We do not cower in the shadows like a rat, or hide in the grass like a snake! Fulke wrought every conceivable violation upon me, and so I will not rest until I throw her into the jaws of Garmr myself!”

Sigurd leaned forward, his voice rumbling like magma in his throat. “Either lend me your aid now, or return to Ravensthorpe. I will collect Fulke’s head, with or without you.”

The younger man shook his head in disapproval. “...There is no honor in this, Sigurd. You know that. You are not a barbarian, nor are you a murderer. But you are blinded by your hatred. Listen to me--” Eivor gripped him by the shoulders, “--Fulke isn’t worth it!”

His brother scoffed, shrugging his hands off. “You really think you can judge me? Or must I remind you of all the years you spent seeking revenge against Kjotve? What about when you endangered your crew simply to go after him? My methods may be brutal, Eivor, but do not pretend that you would not replicate them. Your claim to a virtuous disposition is meaningless, for we both know you are no better.”

Eivor sighed in annoyance. “Which is exactly why I know this isn’t worth it! My hatred for Kjotve tore me apart for years, Sigurd. It led me down a path that changed me for the worse, and I do not wish to see you lose yourself either.”

“You weren’t there, Eivor!” Sigurd insisted. “You did not see what Fulke did to me. She...” the man paused for a moment, trying to hold himself together, “...she took... everything from me. My strength, my dignity, my freedom. Fulke is nothing more than a witch in human form, and honor demands that I bring her to retribution. You can fight by my side, or watch from the shadows like a coward. It matters not.” He threw a cautionary glare at the other man. “But do not get in my way.”

Standing there in silence, Eivor watched hopelessly as his brother lost himself in his rage, consumed by a hatred that no one in their clan had ever seen before. He knew the man was hurting inside, and he knew it wasn’t Sigurd’s fault, but to see him lash out in such a violent manner... it broke Eivor’s heart.

Sigurd was a good man. A good leader. He cared deeply for his people, and had already sacrificed so much to keep them afloat. But to witness him undo all of his work in the name of killing Fulke -- a single woman -- Eivor knew he had to stop him sooner or later.

He did not want to fight against Sigurd as Valka predicted he would, but for his brother’s own sake, he feared he would have no choice.

Noticing the abrupt shift in his brother’s mood, Sigurd felt a sudden sense of guilt clutching at his chest as he took on a gentler tone, uttering a brief apology.

“F-Forgive me, my love...” he whispered, “that was... unworthy of me. I apologize. But I fear my point still stands. I can’t just walk away from this. I...” Sigurd glanced down at his amputated arm, doing his best to block out the abhorrent memories that came with it, “...I need to kill Fulke.”

Eivor sighed in defeat, not wishing to argue with his brother any further. “...If that’s truly what you wish, then I will stand by you, Sigurd. All the way to the end.” He placed a hand on the man’s cheek, gazing at him affectionately. “But please... do not forget who you are.”

Sigurd nodded reassuringly. “I won’t.”

Returning to the task at hand, the older man separated their embrace and brought his attention back to the longhouse, eager to get some answers from Thegn Aldrich as Eivor followed from behind. 

At the moment, the elderly nobleman was cowering behind the safety of his throne and had no more than a pitiful dagger to defend himself, somehow enhancing his already pathetic display.

Most of the civilians who once stood by his side had fled the safety of the longhouse, and the closer Sigurd got to him, the more Aldrich’s grasp on the dagger seemed to shake.

“No!” The Saxon cried out in fear. “Leave me be, Dane! Stay back!”

The thegn wildly swung his blade in an attempt to cut Sigurd, only to receive a fist to the face when the viking swatted the weapon out of his grip.

The dagger went flying off to the side and landed on the stone floor with a metallic clang, leaving Aldrich completely defenseless as he backed away from the Norse in panic.

“Filthy fucking pagan...!” He hissed under his breath. “Rendering a man defenseless in his own home -- slaughtering innocents! God will see you punished for your sins, Dane! Whether you believe in Him or not, He will condemn you and all your kind to Hell for the suffering you’ve inflicted on our people! You will--”

“--Enough of your piety!” Sigurd barked, striking the thegn once again.

Eivor flinched at the aggressive action, having to restrain himself from interfering.

“Brother...!” He warned in a hushed tone, causing Sigurd to glare at him.

“Stay out of this, Eivor.” He demanded before returning his focus to the thegn. “...Tell me where Paladin Fulke is! I know you’re hiding her!”

Aldrich stammered out a response. “M-Madwoman Fulke? That’s why you’re here? You wish to find her?”

Sigurd prowled closer to the Saxon, staring him down as a lion would its prey.

“I wish to kill her.”

The nobleman glowered at that. “Lord above... you Northmen and your thirst for violence. Is it any wonder that England crumbles under the hardships of war? We should’ve set you heathens to the torch the minute you set foot on our shores.”

Sigurd instantly raised his sword up to Aldrich’s throat, holding it dangerously close to his skin.

“Watch... your tongue, Saxon. Lest I tear it out through your teeth. Now, tell me where Fulke is! I grow weary of your rambling.”

Still, Aldrich remained obstinate. “That heretic is far away from here, and safely in the hands of God. She is to be tried by true Christians, and brought to justice in an appropriate manner. I will not let her fate fall into the hands of a bunch of barbarians!”

Sigurd gently pressed the blade into his neck, applying just enough pressure so that a few beads of blood began to form.

“...It’s not your decision to make.”

Aldrich nailed his gaze onto the sword, his teeth starting to chatter as small droplets of blood trickled down his skin.

“And who are you to decide, Dane? You who walks among the hellfire. What makes you think you’re any more suited?”

Sigurd grinned darkly. “Is the fate of your own life not already in my hands?”

When the thegn offered nothing but silence in return, the redheaded Norse took a few steps forward, carrying on with his interrogation.

“This is your last chance, Aldrich. Tell me where to find Paladin Fulke, and I might leave enough of a body for your kin to bury. Otherwise, I will personally see to it that my skalds use your bones to beat their war drums. Your head will adorn the tallest pike in my village, and I will spread your lungs into wings so that you may fly with the same birds that feast on your corpse.”

“Sigurd...!” Eivor said once again, causing the man to sigh in frustration.

“What?” He snapped.

“What are you doing?” The younger man questioned. “This is not who we are!”

The viking ignored his brother’s pleas, growing tired of their quarrel. “Enough, Eivor! You may be my brother, but do not forget who is jarl! My word is law, and if I wish for someone to be killed, I expect you to help me swing the sword! Now for the last time, stay out of this...!”

Sigurd turned to Aldrich, impatiently awaiting the man’s reply.

“And you! What say you? Will you tell me where Fulke is? Or shall I take my axe to your spine?”

The Saxon scowled at the Norse, refusing to give in.

“...Devil take you, Dane.” He spat at Sigurd’s feet.

The Norse warrior chuckled at the gesture, his temperament alarmingly calm.

“A foolish idea, thegn.”

Deciding not to hold back anymore, Sigurd suddenly threw a punch at Aldrich’s face and knocked the man flat on the ground, continuing to beat the Saxon as he helplessly crawled away.

“Sigurd!” Eivor blurted out in shock, unsure of what to do.

But the viking didn’t stop. Instead, he simply approached Aldrich and carried on with his assault as the thegn desperately tried to get back up on his feet, latching onto any piece of furniture that would support his weight.

“Sir Regnward...!” The Saxon shouted, calling out to his housecarl. “Cut this Dane down immediately! I want him killed!”

There was no answer.

“Sir Regnward!” Aldrich repeated in his absence, his voice trembling now. “For God’s sake, Cedric, where are you...?!”

Sigurd planted a boot on top of the thegn’s hand, grinding it into the floor.

“Your housecarl is dead, thegn!” He exclaimed, his tone dripping with venom. “He lies outside with a sword buried in his heart, just as you soon will.”

The Saxon whimpered under the pressure of Sigurd’s boot, frantically trying to wiggle his way out of the man’s hold, but to no avail.

“Please...!” He begged, his jaw clenched in agony. “Leave me be...! There’s nothing more I can offer you!”

Sigurd crouched on the floor, staring at Aldrich directly in the eye. “Are you as dense as you are cowardly? Tell me where Fulke is, and all this stops. It’s a simple concept, really.”

But still, the Saxon refused. “If I tell you, they’ll have me hanged!”

“And if you don’t,” The Norse growled, “I’ll do worse.”

Leaning closer to the thegn as he crushed the man’s hand, Sigurd prepared to punch Aldrich again and clenched his fist, only to find himself being dragged away from the Saxon when Eivor suddenly decided to intervene.

“Sigurd!” The younger man said. “Enough!”

The redheaded viking regained his footing, glaring furiously at his brother.

“Eivor! How many times must I tell you to stay out of it?”

“As many as you wish,” he replied, “but regardless, I cannot just stand by and do nothing while you torment these people! We will find Fulke, brother, but not like this. Not ever like this.”

Eivor turned to the fallen Saxon, gesturing to the longhouse’s ruined door.

“Take what people you have left and flee, thegn. There is nothing more for you in Baelfrith.”

Aldrich pushed himself off the floor and gripped his hand in a nursing hold, nodding appreciatively at his savior.

“Bless you, Dane. Bless you...!”

“Do not mistake my mercy for acceptance. If I see you or any of your other people near our clan after this, you won’t be walking away next time.”

It pained Eivor to speak to a defenseless man in such a way, but for the sake of not completely throwing his loyalty for Sigurd out the window, he figured he had to prevent the Saxons from seeking vengeance somehow.

“Oh, you won’t,” Aldrich promised. “I swear it.”

Scurrying off without another word said, the lone thegn hurriedly made his way out the longhouse as Eivor stayed behind, standing amidst all the chaos his brother had sowed.

He wasn’t sure if he did the right thing, allowing Aldrich to escape. The man appeared sincere enough in his promise to leave the Raven Clan alone, but as past experiences would have taught Eivor, no one could be trusted in a time of war.

For all he knew, the thegn could’ve been planning for revenge. He had enough survivors to rally a small fyrd, and it didn’t seem entirely impossible that the man would attempt some sort of retaliation.

Still, despite his uncertainties, the young viking was glad to have prevented further bloodshed. There was no love lost between him and self-righteous Saxons, but regardless, Eivor did not wish to see anymore unnecessary death.

There had been far too much of it already.

Turning back to address his brother, Eivor halted in his steps when he found the sullen man sitting quietly on Aldrich’s throne, his head hanging low in despondency. 

His brow was furrowed in deep thought, and the closer Eivor walked to the solemn jarl, the more he was able to see the exhaustion creasing his lover’s face.

Sigurd didn’t look well at all. 

A grim shadow seemed to loom over the man’s conscience like a dark cloud, and with the sound of wild flames crackling outside, Eivor only wondered how long it would be until Sigurd’s actions reflected the little sanity he preserved.

“Sigurd...?” He said worriedly, kneeling in front of the man so that he was eye-level with him. “Are you well, brother?”

The forlorn viking glanced up at Eivor, his expression heavy with remorse. There was no longer any strength in his face as there was before, and the dark circles outlining his sockets only seemed to harden his gaze.

“...What’s happening to me, Eivor?” Sigurd whispered, his tone devoid of any emotion. “That woman, Fulke... she turned me into a monster.”

The younger man cupped his partner’s face in his hands, looking at him affectionately.

“No, Sigurd...” Eivor comforted, “you are not a monster. Nor are you a saint. You are only human. Like the rest of us.”

The other man chuckled morosely at the statement. “...Human. If only you knew the irony of your words, brother. Fulke spent all our time together trying to convince me otherwise. She believes I am born of the gods. One of the... Ancient Ones. She believes that--”

“--What Fulke believes doesn’t matter.” Eivor insisted. “She’s a madwoman, Sigurd. A snake. And she will do anything she can to twist your mind, regardless of the cost.”

Eivor caressed Sigurd’s cheek, attempting to console the older man.

“But hear me when I say this. No matter how you see yourself, Sigurd -- no matter how long it takes for you to recover from this pain -- remember, you will always be someone who’s cherished among our clan. You will always be my most trusted friend, and my most loved companion.”

Eivor placed a kiss on the other man’s lips, afterwards resting the bridge of his nose against Sigurd’s.

“I love you. And don’t you ever forget that.”

Sigurd brought a hand up to one of Eivor’s arms, holding him gently in place.

“Freyja knows I don’t deserve you.” He replied softly. “After everything I’ve done, I’m not certain I deserve anyone.”

“Don’t say that,” Eivor reassured. “There is still hope for you, Sigurd. You’re not beyond redemption yet. But I can’t heal you by myself. Ultimately, your own recovery rests with yourself in the end.”

The younger man stepped back and rose from the floor, reaching a hand out to Sigurd.

“But I won’t abandon you. From here to Valhalla, I’ll always be at your side.”

The older man grabbed Eivor’s hand, pulling himself up from the throne as the two of them savored a brief moment of peace.

“I know,” Sigurd said earnestly. “And I won’t disappoint you, my love. I promise.”

Walking alongside each other, the peculiar couple removed themselves from the morbid scene and returned to the hellfire outside, prepared to face whatever threats awaited them in the chaos.

By now, the ferocious flames had dug into the very heart of Baelfrith and consumed its soul, leaving nothing but a sea of fire that drowned everything in its path.

There were golden specks of light flickering throughout the pillars of smoke, and with nothing more than a pile of corpses to commemorate the life that once thrived in this settlement, Eivor felt a new sense of grief tugging at his conscience.

All this destruction, all this ruin... it was entirely their fault. So many innocent lives had been condemned within a single day, and the blood would forever stain their hands.

But despite the tragedy, Eivor knew he couldn’t give up. Sigurd’s old self was barely hanging by a thread at the moment, and the younger man feared he would fall without someone there to help guide him.

So, without saying a word, Eivor simply reached over and took his lover’s hand into his grasp, holding him close as they traversed through the flames. 

He didn’t know how he was going to help Sigurd recover from his pain, or the torment that Fulke put him through, but one thing was for certain.

Fulke was going to have to kill Eivor if she ever intended laying her hands on Sigurd again. He would always protect that man at all costs, no matter what happened, and even if it meant he would lose his own life, he was prepared to defend Sigurd. 

All the way to the end.

[falcon-eye]

Another ficlet featuring Cat OCs which will eventually become a part of a bigger story from @inexplicifics Accidental Warlord AU! This one kinda got away from me, Idk. I wanted to include a little more info on my Cats but after a while I felt like I was rambling. I also feel like the tone is kinda all over the place. I like what I wrote, but Idk about how I wrote it, if that makes any sense. And I’m not satisfied with the ending. I also hope the “deal” makes sense too. Idk. I’m just generally sorry for how weird this one turned out. Any questions, even if they’re just about the characters, please shoot them my way! Hope you enjoy!

-

The Law of Surprise had never steered Veko wrong. Well, ok, that wasn’t exactly true. It had never fucked him over, anyway. Well...

Ok, see, many, many years before the White Wolf began his reign, Veko and his twin brother Hamra had been traveling with the Cat School’s caravan. They always had, ever since becoming Witchers, although they sometimes broke off for hunts either alone or with each other. Siblings were rare among Witchers, twins especially, and identical twins even more so. Plus, Hamra was... gentle—for a Witcher anyway. He hardly made eye contact and often didn’t talk until absolutely necessary for days at a time, often using signs when he didn’t want to (or couldn’t) speak. Veko was used to it, often either being able to decipher his brother’s signs and gestures, or filing in the blanks himself. This also meant he was frequently his brother’s “translator” of sorts. Despite mostly taking hunts together though, Veko, like everyone else in the caravan, needed a break from time to time. Especially from his brother’s guilty looks.

It’s common knowledge that Cats are the more... emotional of all Witchers, prone to mood swings, rages, and the occasional bloodlust. It’s just how the mutagens made them, as much a fact as the sky was blue. Didn’t make it any easier on any of them, though. Veko knew this all too well.

Although Hamra was quiet, generally incredibly awkward and painfully shy, he too could and had been taken over by his emotions. And unfortunately, Veko was always in the line of fire—literally. The fight had been... stupid. Probably. Now, years later, neither twin can remember what the it was even about, and none of the other Cats were paying enough attention to care. Hamra was too enraged to remember what happened and Veko. Well, Veko, whether he was trying to calm Hamra down or was truly fighting with him, took an Igni to the face at basically point blank range. Sure, the smell of cooking monster was one Witchers eventually got used to, but as it turns out, the smell of your own brother’s flesh burning from his face and neck snaps you out of a rage pretty well.

Veko was out of commission for quite a while, by Witcher standards. The left side of his face, from under his eye down his neck, and disappearing beneath his armor, was a permanent web of tight, puckered scarring. It wasn’t bad enough to lose his ear or anything, thankfully, and no actual holes in his skin, but it was big and grotesque enough that there was no possible way to hide it unless he covered his entire face. So Hamra had to look at his greatest mistake every time he looked at his brother, and Veko had to deal with the sour smell of guilt pouring off of his brother almost every waking moment.

So, yeah, he needed a break and a solo hunt every once in a while.

This one was about as basic as they get; bunch of drowners terrorizing a local village, no problem. Veko took them out with ease. Or so he thought. Going back to the village to claim his pay, he heard an old man crying for help and realized one of the drowners had broken off from the others. Just great.

The old man and the drowner both were stuck in thick mud, a pathetic sight as the man frantically tried to free himself as the drowner clawed at him. Veko literally walked up next to the creature and decapitating it, yanking the old man out of the mud while still in mid swing.

“Witcher!” the old man cried, his knees nearly buckling once he was on solid ground. “Oh thank you Witcher! How could I ever repay you?!”

Sheathing his swords, Veko chuckled. “I mean, coin never hurts.”

As Veko wiped the mud from his face, revealing his burns, the man paled. “I-I don’t... I-I don’t have any money on me,” he said. “Please, sir, there must be something else I can give you!“

Veko sighed. “Not a problem,” he said. “How about this—first thing you see when you get home, I’ll take that. I’ve got to get my pay from your village anyway. Why don’t I stop by your house in the morning?”

The old man nodded vigorously. “Yes, yes sir Witcher!” he exclaimed. “I live on the edge of town, just a little farm, the one with the blue roof.”

“Blue roof,” Veko said, squinting at the old man. “Yeah, it’s suits you.”

The old man looked confused, but Veko waved him off and walked back to the village with him. Luckily, the alderman didn’t scrimp him over on pay, but it still wasn’t a great amount. However, despite actually being paid the amount he was promised, the local inn just so happened to be completely full. Whatever, you win some, you lose some. Pocketing his coin, Veko led his horse a little ways out of town and reluctantly set up camp.

Veko’s horse was a dun gelding, one of the several Law of Surprise claims and other non-coin payments Veko had made over the years. Once, he’d gotten a literal chicken dinner from a family (which he shared with them, godsdamned his bleeding heart). Another time, an old woman he’d saved from a werewolf offered him and Hamra her home for the night, and taught Veko how to knit when he couldn’t sleep. The horse was relatively new, having picked him up from a farmer with a bad wolf problem, and didn’t give two shits about the Witcher. Which was fine by Veko. He wasn’t close with his horses like some Witchers were. This was his eighth horse, appropriately named Eight.

Eight was a bastard of an animal, constantly biting at Veko’s fingers, clothes, weapons—really anything he could reach. He’d also literally kicked Veko in the ass a few times, and once right in the balls, to the entire caravan’s delight. Eight was also a particular fan of loudly chewing the bark off of whatever tree he was tethered to, which made trying to get peace and quiet a bitch. Not-so-secretly, Veko was hoping whatever the old man saw when he got back to his house was a different horse. It was too expensive to buy another one, and despite the fact that he and Eight hated each other, he’d never wish harm upon the animal. He just wanted to be rid of him, that’s all.

But when he arrived at the old man’s home the next day, horse, chicken dinner, knitting lessons—none of it came even close to what was waiting for him.

A petite woman in a pale blue dress covered in splatters of paint slammed the front door open as he approached. Her hair, brunette, was up in an approximation of a bun, but it was hard to tell as it was so messily put together and curled wildly where it escaped.

Veko saw the exact moment she saw his burn scars, but to his surprise, only faltered for a moment. “Witcher!” she shouted, marching right up to Veko and poking a paint-stained finger to his chest. “You can turn around and leave right now!”

Veko blinked down at her. “Uh, excuse me,” he scoffed, “I came here to get my payment. Who the hell are you?”

“Your bloody payment,” the girl hissed, throwing her arms out. “Surprise!”

“Eloise!” the old man Veko had saved came rushing out of his house, taking the woman’s hands in his. “Please, Eloise—“

“What in the hell is going on here?!” Veko exclaimed, making the old man flinch but the woman—Eloise—stood her ground.

“You asked my father to give you the first thing he saw when he came home, right?” she snapped. “Well I answered the bloody door, Witcher.”

Veko took a step back and raised his hands in surrender. “Ok, ok, so this is just all a misunderstanding, I get it. I’ll just—“

“No, no!” the old man exclaimed as Veko turned back to his horse. “Please, Witcher, it’s the Law of Surprise, it’s destiny!”

“Fuck destiny,” Eloise spat. Veko had to agree. But the old man was frantic now.

“To-to go against destiny—“ he continued, before breaking off into a hacking coughing fit that actually had Veko concerned the man would drop right there.

Eloise calmed her father down and held him until his coughing subsided. “Please, papa, you’re going to overwhelm yourself.”

“Eloise, my darling,” the man choked out, “this is all my fault, but please, you cannot go against the Law of Surprise!”

Veko watched the two for a moment before clearing his throat. “Maybe—maybe we can work something out,” he said. Obviously the man was only getting more and more worked up as the conversation went on.

Eloise glared at Veko for a moment before crossing her arms. “It’s ok, papa,” she said, still glaring, “I’ll talk with the Witcher and sort this whole thing out.”

“Y-yeah,” Veko said. “Um. Do you wanna...?”

Eloise grabbed him—actually grabbed him, the balls on this woman!—by the arm and dragged him behind the house, towards a small stable and paddock where a few goats were housed.

“Alright, Witcher, listen,” Eloise snapped. “I don’t believe in all this ‘destiny’ bollocks. The Law of Surprise is bullshit.”

“Hey, I’m with you there,” Veko said. “I normally get like livestock or food or stuff like that.”

Eloise sighed and bit at her nail, staring out across the paddock. “My father believes in all of it,” she said. “My mother died when I was young. Destiny, papa always said. It’s garbage. But my father... he’s very old. I need to take care of him. Whether I believed in all that shit or not, Witcher, I cannot come with you.”

“And I don’t want you to!” Veko exclaimed. “I can barely take care of my horse properly, let alone a human. You’d get killed or something. Why would I want you to come with me?”

Eloise scoffed. “I can think of one reason,” she said bitterly. Veko rolled his eyes.

“Oh please, I’ve got two hands and enough coin set aside for that.”

Eloise actually cracked a tiny grin. “Regardless,” she said, “my father isn’t going to let this go. And I don’t want this to work him up anymore than it already has. I’m afraid for his health.”

“What do you suggest?” Veko asked.

Eloise thought for a moment. Veko’s scar started to itch. It always did at awkward moments, or at least it seemed to anyway, and this was about the most awkward situation Veko had ever been in. This woman was actually... strangely intimidating! Veko turned away to scratch at his face, which seemed to break Eloise out of her thoughts.

“Do you... want something for that?” she asked. “We have some salves in the house just... in case we...”

“No, no, that’s fine,” Veko said as she trailed off in thought. After another moment, Eloise suddenly clapped her hands together.

“I’ve got it!” she exclaimed. “I know how we can appease my father and still make this work.”

Veko nodded awkwardly. “That’s... good, yeah. Um—“

“This will be your home,” Eloise interrupted.

“I don’t follow.”

“Simple,” Eloise stuck a finger in the air. “You’re a Witcher—you travel. So you must spend a lot of the money you earn at inns and on food and things.”

“Or I just sleep outside,” Veko cut in. Eloise waved him off.

“We could tell my father that the Surprise you’ve claimed is the right to come here and stay whenever you’re in the area. Or rather, the right to my home as your home.”

“How does that factor you into it, though?” Veko asked.

“Technically my father saw the house before he saw me,” Eloise replied. “Plus, we could say that I’m a part of the house, that I keep it for you. Or that the house and I are a package deal.”

Veko crossed his arms. “Do you think he’d buy that?”

Eloise crossed her arms back. “He will if you say it.”

Veko ran a hand through his hair and blew out a puff of air. “This is crazy,” he said.

“You claimed the Law of Surprise, Witcher,” Eloise snapped, “not me.”

Veko started scratching his scar in earnest now. “Ok, but what about the village? What are they going to say about you being ‘claimed’ by a Witcher?”

“Frankly I don’t give a damn what they think.”

“What if you want to get married someday?”

Eloise guffawed. “See, that’s the other thing,” she said. “I don’t want to get married. Ever. Having a Witcher ‘claim’ me as his would get every man in town to leave me well alone. This helps all of us.”

As Veko thought on it, Eloise slapped his hand away from scratching his face again. At his shocked face, she merely glared back.

“You’re something else, you know that?” he said. Eloise grinned.

“Why, because I’m not afraid of you?” She laughed. “You bleed just like the rest of us, Witcher. So what do you say?”

Eloise held out her hand and for a moment, Veko actually hesitated. Not because of the deal itself, but because this woman was truly unafraid of him, of seemingly anything, and it made him feel... vulnerable in a way he wasn’t used to. After a moment, Veko gently took her hand—and wow, she had a hell of a grip for a human woman, too! “Deal,” Veko said.

“Now to tell my father,” Eloise said, already starting to drag the Witcher back around the house.

As it turned out, Eloise’s father was thrilled with the idea. Eloise could stay with her father, destiny would be satisfied or whatever, and Veko would get free food and lodging whenever he was around (which probably wouldn’t be for a very long time anyway). The only problem was that Eloise’s father seemed to take Veko “claiming” his daughter and home as... well... essentially Eloise settling down with the Witcher “to start a family”. Veko was mortified but Eloise just smiled and nodded, going along with what her father said until he looked away and giving Veko a look that meant under no uncertain terms would that ever be happening.

A few details still had to be hashed out, but Veko wanted nothing more than to get as far away from this town as possible. How the hell had a drowner contract produced this much trouble?

Later, Veko reunited with the Cat caravan and Hamra. His brother chuckled softly at whatever look was on Veko’s face, and when Hamra signed asking how his hunt was, Veko groaned.

“Took out some drowners,” he said. “And... and Ham, I think... I think I got fucking married.”

Hamra actually burst out laughing, the first time the smell of surprise and amusement replaced the sour guilt that hung to his brother like a cloud, and Veko couldn’t help but join him.

Fuck the Law of Surprise, Veko thought. Never using that again.

[writinginthedarkwood]

Kitsune! Kaminari x Reader: Stealing Your Heart.

This isn’t attached to the yokai universe that I made right here ... but if you enjoy this maybe check that au out where there are lots of monster boys to enjoy?

Warning: nsfw content, incredibly wholesome and fun magical content ahead as well to enjoy during stressful times.

“You know, your father has asked you to join him this morning.” You sat in front of the mirror while the maid brushed your hair and prepped you for the day. “Oh? Has he returned already?” She tightened the ribbon on your dress a little tighter and your back straightened. “You didn’t think he would miss your birthday, did you?”

Truthfully you’re not sure if he would even remember. He hadn’t talked to you much lately, he has traveled so often that it feels like he hasn’t been home in ages.

“I suppose I should head toward his study.” You plastered a smile on your face and bowed politely to your hand maid. You slid the door open and stepped to the hall. “I think he might actually be in the garden having tea. I’d look there first.”

Servants bowed as you smiled and floated through the halls of your fathers beautiful estate. Expensive artwork hung on the walls with flowers and vases. People were busy, sprucing everything up. It was strange to see so many servants working so early. Who were all these people?

Everyone stopped their work abruptly to catch a glimpse of you. The flower of the valley, the angel of the west river village.

You hated those nicknames. They followed you everywhere you went, some meant it as a compliment.

The further you walked, the more people hurried around. You passed by the kitchen, a full crew of cooks and cleaners were rushing, preparing a feast.

“Father?” A servant opened the door to the garden for you and the beautiful morning light hit your face.

“Ah, good morning Y/N. I think it would appropriate to wish you a happy birthday.” Your father sat among the flowers, a beautiful persimmon tree blossomed above his head. He took a sip of tea and motioned for you to sit beside him.

“Thank you father.”

The air felt heavy. You used to run and play with your father and mother through this garden, but it hardly feels like you can hold a conversation with him now.

After another long sip of tea your father spoke again. “You might have noticed it’s rather busy around here. A lot of preparation is going into your birthday dinner. I’ve invited a lot of interesting and important people to join us.”

“How kind father, thank you.” You hadn’t touched the tea, or the food in front of you. A knot twisted in your stomach, something was wrong.

“In fact...” He cleared his throat and set his tea cup down kind of harshly, his hands were shaking. Not may things could phase your father, this must be serious.

“You’re getting older now, and I think it’s in your best interest if you enter a marriage.”

You knew better than to react with dramatics. You hardly drew in a breath.

“And you have someone in mind?” Your eyes stung. You wanted to cry, but you have known your role in life for a long time. You were pulled from school at a young age, told that it wasn’t necessary for you to keep studying.

Soon after the restriction to stay on the property was put in place.

You haven’t left the estate in years.

“Of course, I have someone arranged. I’m confident you’ll find a good life with him.” Your father didn’t look you in the eye, a bead of sweat was forming at his hair line. “I know that he will keep you safe.”

It wasn’t often you spoke out of turn, but your father as powerful as he is, was never cruel to you. You were able to speak your mind when other people weren’t around to see it as disrespect. “Father I feel like something else might be wrong...” You put your hand over his callused knuckles and pleaded with your eyes. He was a tall, stoic and often vicious man, but he was easily melted by his only child's big eyes. He took a deep breath and let his shoulders relax.

“I’m worried for you my angel.” He placed his other hand over top of yours. “A lot of people want you steal you away from me.”

You weren’t expecting him to say anything like that. You furrowed your brows. “What do you mean? Nobody could ever take me from you father, we’ll always be family.”

His face turned dark, gripping your hand a bit tighter. “It’s a bit more complicated than that. Please, just trust me. I need you to go back to your room until tomorrow evening. You’ll meet your new husband at the party, and you’ll leave with him.”

You pulled your hand away from him. “You want me to stay inside of my room? What do you mean I’m leaving with him?” Your voice cracked a bit, losing your composure. Your father stood from the table and turned his back to you, walking to the house. “Father stop! This is happening too quickly I-” You rushed to him and grabbed his shoulder.

He brushed you off, knocking you back. It wasn’t enough to hurt you, but it stung. He glared over his shoulder at you. “You’ll do as your told. I will not stress that enough.”

You weren’t one to usually pout, but your heart felt like it was breaking. Why is he being so cold to you? The tears spilled onto your cheeks and your lip quivered.

You pushed past your father and rushed to your room.

Men that are usually found close to your father stood leaning against the wall to your room. They carried swords and wore a mask over their mouths. One opened the door and you stepped inside with grace, not willing to make yourself look anymore foolish than you already felt. The minute the door slid shut behind you, you rushed right to your window and opened it, throwing your legs over the edge and climbing down with ease.

You know the property like the back of your hand, you head straight for the line of trees.

The forest air felt so different than the rest of the grounds, the thick tree’s were unmanicured and wild, filled with beautiful song birds. Rabbits ran through the bushes and you felt that familiar feeling in your chest.

The feeling of finally feeling like yourself, like you’re whole.

You didn’t think you had been walking for very long, but you gasped when you noticed the collapsing stone wall.

The property line.

Your heart rate picked up and you made a quick, and possibly irresponsible decision and approached the wall. It had been so long sense you had left the estate, would it really hurt anything if you took a quick look at the village one last time.

The village wasn’t much further away, you walked along a stone road and felt your stomach growl. The sky looked like it was late afternoon by now, you really had been out for awhile. A slight ping of anxiety tightened in your chest, had they already noticed you were gone and sent people after you?

Your frustration was more powerful than your concern for your father. You pushed on, walking a bit faster.

The village smelled amazing. Bakers wafted the smell of their goods into the street, tempting people in the market to stop by for a bite. Piles of exotic goods lined the markets in stalls, everything was colorful and exciting.

A tavern was filled with people, some spilling out into the street with red faces from drinking too much. You walked by, slowing down a bit to take a peak inside. A beautiful trio of women sang and some people were dancing. You felt the drive to join them and pushed your way inside. You were twirling with strangers in a matter of seconds. You giggled, your feet carrying you around in circles to the music.

Like a shot of lightning struck you, your feet stopped. You were suddenly in someones arms. The hair on your neck stood straight up. The man took your hand and spun you around, but pulled you back close again. He put his mouth to your ear and whispered. “People are following you. Don’t make a scene and follow me.”

His hands were soft but strong. You looked at his face and the air caught in your throat. His eyes were the melted color of gold, his face was boyish and cute. He winked at you and spoke loudly. “A bite to eat? Of course it is about dinner time isn’t it.” He pulled you to his side, holding his arm around your waist. You instinctively leaned into him, feeling oddly comforted by having him close. A door in the back of the tavern was slightly open, he pushed it open with his toe and started to step outside. “Hey you!” A barmaid yelled. “You haven’t paid your tab!” She was pointing at you. Your face burned bright red as everyone in the bar stopped, even the musicians to look at you. “I- I haven’t ordered anything.” You tried to explain. The man smiled and stepped in front of you. “No worries, how much does the little maiden owe you?” He pulled a leather pouch out of his pocket and dropped it on the counter. The barmaid opened it and scowled. “Is this a joke? These are gold pieces!”

“Does that cover the bill?” The barmaid anxiously looked over her shoulder at a group of men who were standing ominously in the corner. They walked out of the front door and the barmaid smiled. “Yeah! This will cover all of this months rent!”

The man rushed you out of the back door, he quickly pulled you into an alleyway. The reality of what just happened started to sink into your stomach as you looked around and noticed the two of you were alone.

“We need to keep moving.” He said quietly. He grabbed your hand and you pulled away from him. “W-wait!” You tried to steady your feet and look tough. You smoothed a wrinkle from your skirt and crossed your arms. “That’s far enough I think.” You said with only the slightest hint of fear in your voice. “Who are you?” You asked firmly. “One of my fathers goons trying to drag me back home?”

“I think the better question is, who are you princess? Kind of strange to find a nice girl looking girl like you with a bunch yokai hanging off of her.” He looked over your shoulder. You quickly turned around and saw a few black feathers falling to the ground. “We seriously need to go, right now.” The golden haired boy held out his hand. “I’m not working for your father. You have to trust me.”

Shadows crept into the alleyway, the black figure moved unnaturally along the walls.

You grabbed his hand and a rush of wind surrounded you two. His appearance changed. Two perky black ears grew out of his lengthy yellow hair. His face was just a bit more angular, like his cheek were sitting a bit higher on his face. He smiled a grin and pulled you into his arms. His teeth were sharp and you realized that the man who had come to your rescue was hardly a man at all.

He was a kitsune, a fox demon.

With a jump the two of you were in the sky, you held in a scream as the village disappeared below you. You hid your face in his shoulder, realizing you might have a fear of heights. “Hold on, things might get a little sticky!” He shouted over the wind. You looked up and saw three huge birds following you two.

They were approaching fast. The giant, gorgeous raven wings surrounded not the body of a bird, but a human. You’d heard of such a creature before. They were tengu.

Before you could even blink the two of you were surrounded. “Kaminari! Who would imagine you’d somehow nose your way into this. Who would have ever thought the biggest dunce I know would get the drop on me?” The man had blonde hair that was brushed down flat over his forehead. He grinned and folded his arms while his wings beat behind him. “Hand over the girl. You’re not worthy to touch such a valuable asset.”

“She’s not an asset, she’s a person Monoma. I’m taking her home!”

The blonde started laughing so hard he gripped his stomach. He wiped away an exaggerated tear from underneath a silver eye and pointed at us. “Oh so you want to look like a hero, huh? We both know that you’re here for the same reason as I am. Now hand over my bride, her father is looking for her.”

A white hot rage boiled over inside of you. “I am not your bride! What do you people want from me?”

The kitsune called Kaminari stiffened a bit under your touch. “You really don’t know?”

“What don’t I know! Someone tell me what’s going on!”

“What’s ‘going on’ is that your father promised you to me. This rat is trying to kidnap you, and you’re playing right into it.” The two other tengu suddenly charged, trying to rip you from Kaminari’s arms. You screamed and flailed, trying to keep everyone’s hands from gripping onto you. Kaminari lost his grip and the other two tengu didn’t manage to get a good hold on you.

You couldn’t do anything but scream as you plummeted back down to Earth.

A heavy black cloud clapped with thunder over head, and a bolt of lightning ripped through the sky.

No, it didn’t come from the cloud. A blast of electricity burst from Kaminari.

The three tengus started to fall from the sky before turning into slightly larger than normal black birds, and taking off. You watched them fly away as you fell. You closed your eyes, bracing for impact.

The wind stopped hitting your back harshly, you shot your eyes open and saw that you were a few feet from the ground, falling so much slower than before.

A pair of strong arms wrapped around you, plucking you from the air.

You and Kaminari are on the ground, he’s holding you just above the dirt, keeping you steady.

“Are you alright?” He touched your face, his eyes were filled with sincere concern.

You threw your arms around his neck. “You saved my life!” You squeezed him hard and he sort of groaned as the air was pushed out of him. “Oof- hehe.” He smiled and put a hand on the back of your head. “Of course I did. Nobody deserves to be harassed by that pack of assholes.” He chuckled a bit.

“Who are you?” You asked staring up at his handsome face, your arms still wrapped around his neck. “I’m Kaminari Denki. You probably guessed I’m not a human.” He set you down properly on the ground. “Those tengus are probably going to get reinforcements.” He looked up at the sky. “There’s no use in trying to hide you, they’ll smell you from miles away.” He took your hand and headed straight for the forest line. “That man said he knew my father. And he just let me fall...” You said with disgust.

“Well, my electricity didn’t give them much of a choice. I wouldn’t have let you hit the ground, even if they had my hands tied behind my back.” He said with a cute grin. The two of you walked off of the pathway in the woods, using the tree line as cover just to make yourselves feel a bit better. Kaminari was a light hearted person. He walked relaxed like he wasn’t intimidated by the situation at all.

You worried that he could get hurt, and it would be your fault.

“Kaminari?” You stopped walking. He turned to you with a puzzled expression. “You can call me Denki. Are you feeling okay?” He put a hand on your shoulder.

“Yes I’m feeling just fine but... I don’t want you to get hurt because of me. I think I should probably walk back to my fathers alone.”

“Those bird brains can’t do anything to me. You don’t have to worry about that.” His smile was like looking at sunshine. He didn’t seem the most refined, or even really incredibly mature. But you liked him for it. He seemed more genuine than the elite your family surrounds themselves with. “But why are you protecting me?”

“Well, I guess it’s kind of complicated.” He scratched his left ear and thought for a moment. “I’m a bit older than you, well. A lot older than you really.” He took your hand and lead you to keep walking. The evening glow was beautiful, the sun was setting a fiery red over the valley. “I made a promise to a good friend of mine that I would keep an eye on you. I want you to be happy.”

“Well you don’t have to worry, my father would never force me to marry a demon! Especially not one like that.”

Kaminari looked at you with a raised eyebrow. “Y/N...”

“Why are you looking at me so funny? I didn’t mean any offense! I just think my father would prefer to set me up with someone of my own species.” You teased him by pinching his arm.

“Aren’t you Lord Aizawa’s daughter?” He asked with all seriousness.

“My father isn’t a Lord. He’s a business man.” You weren’t smiling anymore. “But yes his name is Aizawa. Shouta Aizawa.” You crossed your arms, not sure about where this is going. “Well what kind of business does your father conduct?” Kaminari asked, no longer looking phased. You thought for a moment. “Uhm, I think that he owns some businesses in the village.” You said with little confidence. Truth be told you’re not entirely sure what your father does. You were told not to ask too many questions. That it wasn’t your place. “Ah. Well in my life I’ve learned that you don’t make money like that collecting rent from a few market shops.”

“The Lord that owns this part of the country lives over the mountains in the capital. My father is not royalty.”

“Your father isn’t a lot of things. However, he is royalty.” The kitsune danced around you, not able to keep still for long. He moved on his feet, the forest brush hardly effecting him as he floated over anything that might cause him to trip.

“Why would my father not tell me that we’re royalty. I feel like I would know.”

“Why wouldn’t your father tell you that he isn’t human?”

You stopped walking. “Well what do you suppose he is then?”

“Why don’t we go ask him?” You looked over his shoulder, not too far away was the stone wall that separated your fathers property from the rest of the woods. “See a normal person would see that wall, take a step over it and still be in the same forest.” He jogged ahead and launched himself over the wall.

The kitsune disappeared. You rushed to the wall and reached your hand out feeling the air for him.

He was gone. The wall is short, you stepped over the stone pretty easily and found yourself looking right at your new friend. “How did you do that?”

“That’s the barrier between our world, and the human world. I feel sort of guilty being the one showing you all of this. It’s not really like your father not to be brutally honest about things.”

The two of you walked the rest of the way back to the estate. It was crawling with people shouting. The moment the two of you stepped from the tree line you were swarmed.

“What do you think you were doing leaving the property the moment I told you to stay put?” Your father was kneeling in front of the fire place. You were changed out of your dirty dress and into your silk night robe. “I’m hurt to think you would try and run away.”

“Father I-”

“Silence.” He didn’t bother to yell, he rarely had too. “Everything I do is to give you the perfect life, and you would rather run to a village of thugs and thieves?”

“I would never run away from you father.” You said quietly. He looked at you with his stone cold face, but his eyes softened. “I just wanted to get fresh air. See the village one last time before you sent me away.”

You began to cry. You haven’t cried in front of your father in a long time.

He wiped at your cheek. “I’m sending you away because you’re very special. A lot of people want you for themselves, I can’t see you hurt by someone not worthy of you.”

“So you’re marrying me off to a tengu that let me fall from the sky?” You tipped your chin away from his hand. He was surprised by your sudden shift in mood.

Aizawa leaned back and took a deep breath.

“Father tell me the truth.”

Your father gazed at the painting of your mother hanging above the fire place. “I fell in love with the shrine maiden who took care of this place, a long time ago. With her love and affection, we built this temple into a loving home.” He wanted to reach out and touch your face, maybe even hold you like he did when you were a little girl. “We tried to give you a normal life, your mother even enrolled you in that school. She wanted you to have a taste of what it would be like to be a human. But even then people knew you were different.”

“But why am I different?” You didn’t feel different. You felt like any other girl.

“You are half human, and you are half god. My daughter, fitting of the name angel of the valley.”

“So does that mean...?” You stared at your father. He didn’t seem like a god.

He widened his eyes and they glowed red, his hair floating around him.

“I am the God of Intellect and Strategy. A commonly forgotten God, but remembered by those who deserve my blessing.”

“After you were born, in a moment of joy I promised to all in the land that whoever married my daughter, their clan would find great prosperity and wealth. My word as a god was taken as prophecy, binding you to a very tricky fate.” He sighed. “You will marry the tengu. His clan has many in numbers, and you’ll be safe.”

You couldn’t sleep that night. You tossed in your bed, your feet are exhausted, your whole body is, but your mind is running a mile a minute.

You sat up abruptly when you heard a tap at the window.

The Kitsune was leaning against your window sill in the moonlight. “Hey princess, it’s cold out here. Can I come in?” He said a bit too loud.

“What? No! My fathers security will kill you if they find you in here!” You whispered with a silly smile on your face.

“Aw come on I have a trick for that!” He pulled a white piece of paper from his pocket. It had a jaggedly drawn circle in the middle, with a few crude and terribly drawn stars. “That is a childs drawing.” You giggled. “My art skills aren’t the best, but my magic is top notch princess. Once I place this on the door, anyone with the intention of checking in on you will get the idea that they don’t want to disturb you, and walk away!” He smiled and held the paper between two fingers near your face, giving it a bit of a wag. “Now scooch over! I’m freezing!” He floated into your room, his feet hitting the ground with a very light tap. He glanced from the floor to the ceiling. “It’s sort of plain in here, I would have imagined it to be a lot more fancy. Seeing you’re the child of a god and all.” He waltzed right past you and climbed into your bed, covering himself with your blanket. “That’s my bed you can’t sleep there.” You stood looking down at the plush mat on the floor. He flicked the paper towards the door, the magic slip flew and stuck to the slide. The cracks in the door glowed with a golden light for a moment, sealing shut. “What you don’t trust me to sleep beside you and behave?” He asked, feigning like he was offended. “I’ll have you know that I’m a very trust worthy fox demon. I’m an upstanding gentleman and I would only ever ravage a lady, for the entirety of a night who was completely begging me for it.” He rolled his eyes up to meet yours and winked. “And they always do.”

You blushed from the tip of your head to your chest. “I would never do such a thing. How indecent.” You sat down on the mattress with a huff. Why did a ping of jealousy strike your stomach when he mentioned ravaging other ladies? You scolded yourself for being silly. “I wouldn’t expect you too. I have a feeling you’re probably a bit of a prude.” He said with his hands behind his head. He relaxed into the pillow with his eyes closed. “What does that mean?” You asked, feeling even more embarrassed. He popped one eye open to look at your pouting face. He smirked. “It means that you’re the type of person who is shocked by anything that has to do with sex.”

You stuttered. “I- that’s not true!” You laid your head down on your pillow in frustration and turned yourself away from him. “Oh it isn’t?” He placed his hand gently on the back of your shoulder, touching a bit of exposed skin. His face lingered over your cheek, his lips almost touching you. You turned just a bit to look at him, your throat tightened and butterflies erupted in your stomach. He leaned forward like he might kiss you. “See I knew it! You look like you just saw a ghost.” He rolled off of you back onto his pillow with a laugh.

You sat up quickly and grabbed his face. You gently put your lips on his, giving him your first kiss. The kitsune didn’t move, his eyes wide with shock.

You laid nicely back down on your side of the bed with a wicked smile. Happy with yourself, you closed your eyes and settled in.

“Thought you did something cute there? Well now it’s my turn.” He hovered over you, his smile filled with those sharp teeth, his eyes blazing. You melted into your pillow with his kiss. He parted your lips and pressed down firmly, pinning you down to the bed with his hips. He ran his fingers along your side, feeling every detail hiding under the silk. You gripped onto his hair, waves of heat pulsing through every inch of you. The kiss turned even more passionate, the two of you breaking free for quick gasps of air. You spoke between kisses, not wanting to stop but trying to use your head. “Denki- I- I’m getting married tomorrow!” He buried his head in your neck. “I don’t care.” He growled against your skin and bit down. Your whimper turned into a moan as he started to suck on the sore spot. He pulled away and looked at the already darkening circle he left on you. “Aw well, you’ll have a new beauty mark for your big day.” He chuckled and pulled at the ribbon holding your robe closed, exposing your body to him in the dark. “I wonder where else I can leave a few surprises for the tengu king?” He traced down your skin and kissed your chest.

“I’ll never give myself to him. He disgusts me!” Chills ran up and down your body as he kissed down your chest. “Your body is so beautiful. I could kiss you every night for a thousand years and never get tired of you.” He licked your naval, running his tongue back up your body making you shudder. He laughed. “But I did say that I would behave, didn’t I?” He had his thumb hooked to your delicate panties. He desperately wanted to rip them off of you, the animal inside of him screaming to devour you. You flashed a look at him, remembering his words of hearing women beg. “Ah, what a shame. I guess we should get some sleep.” Your voice was laced with lust.

The kitsune laughed, liking that he had to work a little harder. “Haven’t you ever heard that it isn’t wise to trust the word of a fox demon?” He put his fingers around your neck and applied a little pressure. “I want you Y/N, I want you to run away with me.” His hips spread your legs, he pressed himself firmly against you and started to grind. “We can travel the world. Just the two of us, live free and happy.” Your eyes felt heavy, you closed them and listened to his passionate words. “Maybe settle down one day to start our own clan, a family. Not because your father told us too.” He kissed your jaw gently. “But because you want too.”

You wrapped your arms around him and the two of you kissed in the moonlight, your heart feeling full. “We should leave before daylight.” You said dreamily.

“I’ll leave your father a letter and I’ll take you before anybody knows that we’re gone.” The two of you sealed the deal with another kiss. “There’s one thing before we go my darling.” Kaminari said directly into your ear. “It’s your smell, I need to make you smell less like a demi god and more like a kitsune.” He kissed your ear lobe. You looked at him puzzled. “Well how do you do that?”

You mewled softly while holding onto your lovers shoulders. His length pulled in and out of you with an even, slow pace to keep you from feeling too sore. He held you tightly, kissing every inch of your face with every stroke. “Does it feel alright still love?” He said with heavy breath. You nodded your head, feeling overwhelmed in all your senses. “Your sounds are so sweet-” He was panting, his climax building. “I can barely take it-” You hardly heard him, feeling the venom of passion coursing through you and making you feel hypnotized. With a last thrust his knot tightened, swelling inside of you and shooting hot ropes into your body. He held that position, kissing you and nibbling at your neck. 

You took a small bag of belongings with you, the most notable thing being a bracelet of your mothers. You dressed in dark clothing, placing a hood over your head. You felt so tired, wanting to relax with Kaminari for just awhile longer.

“I know you’re sleepy, love. There’s an inn a few towns from here. I’ll get us there quickly, and have you in a warm bed by a fire soon enough.” He kissed your forehead and took you in his arms, bridal style. He stood on the edge of your window, looking up at the night sky.

He promised your mother all those years ago that he would never let anything bad happen to you. And well, the best thing for you in Kaminari’s mind...

Was him.

I had an anon request for some Kitsune Denki and I felt inspired :) Thank you to that request even if it wasn’t super specifically this!!

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