#i still don't know what i'm going to do for pebbles' cloak

[flecks-of-stardust]

hello rain world tumblr, i present to you: la wiwi

[wheres-mylove]

damsel in distress | sihtric kjartansson x fem!reader

Summary: Sihtric arrives in Winchester for Aethelflaed’s wedding, and finds a princess for himself by the way - the bride’s younger sister with a feisty temper and an overpowering desire to break Aethelred's nose. But there’s a little more to the story than just that.

Disclaimer: English isn’t my first language!

Word count: 2.9k

The young warrior stared at the ground, not daring to look his lord in the eye. He had warned him. Everyone had.

“She's gone?” Uhtred asked, trying out a sympathetic tone, realizing it was not the time to mock his friend's misplaced feelings.

“Yes, my lord,” Sihtric confirmed quietly. “The silver too, before you question me about it. Gone with her.”

“No woman, no silver,” Uhtred summarized and crossed his arms over his chest. “Just so we're clear, I would have agreed to the marriage. Suffer if you're foolish. But not for too long. You need to find someone decent.”

“We would have named our first son Uhtred, lord,” he said, absentmindedly staring ahead.

“No, you would not,” the older warrior replied, visibly grimacing.

“It doesn't matter now,” Sihtric muttered, earning a comforting pat on the shoulder and a reassuring smile from Uhtred.

“Find Finan, we'll meet in the main square.”

Sihtric Kjartansson walked gloomily ahead, pondering why he had such bad luck in life. He took out his anger on a few pebbles scattered on the dusty road. The gods were not too kind when it came to sending him a woman who...

“Sorry, sorry!” He heard a girl's voice behind him and several other irritated grunts or a hushed 'Watch out.' He turned his head slightly and it was a miracle he avoided colliding with a cloaked figure in a visible hurry.

“If you'll excuse me, lord,” the girl quickly spoke, not even bothering to give him a passing glance, squeezing past him and running into a narrow passage between a stable and a nearby dwelling.

Sihtric furrowed his brow and observed the stranger leaning against the wall, anxiously looking towards the main street. With her slightly tilted hood, he was certain she was a young woman, clearly running away from something or someone.

What was he if not a hero?

“My lady,” he began, but faltered at the sight of her angry gaze.

“Are you crazy? Go away,” she snapped, waving her hand at him dismissively. The hood fell back, revealing the girl's face in all its glory.

Sihtric didn't know what to do. The lady was beautiful. But also pissed off.

“God, you idiot,” the girl said with a heavy sigh. Then she grabbed his arm forcefully, pulling him into a dark alley with her and positioning him with his back to the street.

Sihtric still didn't quite understand what was happening. Being pushed around by a mad gorgeous woman was not part of his plans for today. He didn't have any plans at all since the last one ran off with the remnants of his wealth.

“If someone is hiding, they have a reason for it and don't want someone standing in front of them, announcing it to the world,” she scolded him like a disobedient child, and Sihtric felt himself blushing.

“Right. Makes sense. I apologize, my lady,” he stammered, not taking his eyes off her.

She was even more beautiful up close.

“Discreetly look behind you and see if a monk is coming this way,” she instructed him gravely, to which he gave her a half-surprised, half-amused look.

“A monk is leading the chase?”

“Yes, you see, I'm a witch, and I was about to be burned at the stake this afternoon.”

Sihtric chuckled softly, but he complied with her request. He thought the girl was joking, but indeed, a monk was heading their way. Slightly bewildered but definitely annoyed, he was looking around vigilantly.

“Are you really a witch?” Sihtric suddenly asked with a hint of uncertainty.

“I sacrifice boys like you,” she replied without a trace of a smile, but mischievous sparks danced in her eyes. He smirked. “But seriously, you might come in handy. The holy man won't sniff around here for long. Let’s make him look away.”

She threw her arms around his neck, and without hesitation, Sihtric placed his hands on her hips.

Only after a few heartbeats did the absurdity of the situation dawn on him. He stood very close in a dark alley with a girl whose name he didn't know, protecting her from the wrath of a monk.

“But honestly, what about your troubles?” he asked gently.

“Brother Ceolwulf sometimes gives me calligraphy lessons. My father says I scribble rather terribly. I ran away to avoid that pleasure. And apparently, Lord Aethelred is due to arrive soon,” she almost spat the name as if it left a foul taste. “Maybe I'll go see that prick. Quite a commotion over a simple farce.”

“You don't fancy lords from Mercia and royal weddings, my lady?”

The girl didn't answer; instead, she scrutinized Sihtric intently. He felt a wave of embarrassment under the piercing gaze of her sharp eyes.

“And what business does a Dane have here?” she asked after a while, smiling slightly at the sight of his blush. Brother Ceolwulf flashed behind Sihtric, so she tightened her grip and rested her head on his chest. The warrior held his breath. A stream of muffled words reached him. “No, no, you can talk; that rascal is just behind you. You could also use a bath, you know? Great, he went searching on the other side. You could also tell me your name, for the sake of appearances and decency.”

“I'm Sihtric, lady,” he said with a laugh, which (Y/N) not only heard but also felt. “Together with my lord Uhtred, we arrived…”

“Uhtred?” the girl interrupted, raising her head with surprise. “You serve Uhtred?”

“Do you know him?” Sihtric tilted his head, intrigued.

“Oh, I'm in trouble,” she said barely audible, more to herself than to him. “I have to go. I apologize for the assault.”

She took a few steps back before Sihtric panicked. He didn't know her name. He didn't know where to find her. And he definitely wanted to see her again.

“What's your name, lady?” he called after her, but she had already blended into the crowd heading to the main square. He wasn't sure if she had gone to greet Aethelred. Even if she had, he wouldn't find her in that mass.

Brother Ceolwulf came to the same conclusion. The reprimand for the princess of Wessex would have to wait.

The delicate fabric of her blue dress fluttered with each touch of the wind as she gracefully crossed the courtyard. They strolled towards the main hall.

“I only have two options: jump out the window or become a nun,” Princess (Y/N) announced in a calm manner.

“Only jump out the window, my dear,” Father Beocca specified. “Nuns would chase you with crosses and torches in their hands.”

(Y/N) looked at the priest. He had an amused expression. And a soft spot for the princess. According to Alfred's commands, he shouldn't tolerate certain behaviors and opinions. But how dull it would be if he asked her to stifle her carefreeness and restrain her sharp tongue.

“I was just praying a moment ago.”

“Yes, with the intention of our heavenly father making your sister run away from the altar.”

Aethelflaed didn't run away from the altar. She paid no mind to her sister's efforts, who, with sheer willpower, tried to steer her away from it. (Y/N) saw that the bride was enchanted by her groom, and she wanted nothing but all the happiness this world could fit for her. But something in the back of her mind warned her about Aethelred. An unbearable premonition. She blinked a few times, telling herself that she simply didn't consider any man worthy of her dearest sister's hand.

She scanned the gathered guests with her gaze. At the back of the hall, she spotted Uhtred. She nodded at him slightly. He raised an eyebrow with a smile. They had last seen each other when she was a little girl and kicked him in the leg. She wondered if he still limps.

And then she noticed Sihtric.

The warrior paled the moment he saw her standing side by side with the king.

His stranger. The king's daughter. The princess.

Only he could have such damn luck.

“It's her. The girl I told you about. It's her!” He nudged Finan's arm, to which the latter chuckled.

“Sure. Your whole story sounds shady already. Don't involve noble families in it.”

“I'm telling the truth!”

“I believe ya. Yesterday, for example, when little ol’ me was drinking beer with king Alfred…”

Sihtric sighed, but he didn't try to convince his friend anymore. He didn't register the entrance of the bride or a word spoken during the ceremony, and especially not Finan's mocking. His eyes were fixed on the princess in the blue gown. He held his breath when she finally looked at him. She smiled faintly but immediately averted her gaze, with a violent blush on her cheeks.

Sihtric Kjartansson felt his heart beat stronger.

Uhtred embraced the princess with laughter, still wondering how she had transformed so quickly from a snotty child into a breathtaking woman.

Sihtric paid special attention to that breathtaking part, as he was having trouble with that.

“The older you get, the uglier you become. Good to see you, Uhtred,” she greeted him politely. The man snorted and gestured towards his companions.

“Princess (Y/N), these are my friends…”

“Sihtric,” she greeted, bowing her head. He smiled widely, and Finan's jaw dropped, before he realized he should probably bow too. The idiot wasn't lying. Unbelievable.

“Do you know each other?” Uhtred furrowed his brow, looking at the young Dane, then at the princess. “Is there something I don't know?”

“Yes, we've been secret lovers for the past year,” she replied, rolling her eyes. Sihtric's face took on various shades of red, much to Finan's delight.

“You haven't changed at all,” Uhtred commented with a wave of his hand.

“I would be more at ease if this reception wasn't so dull,” she said, wistfully glancing at the cup in Uhtred's hand. “Is he watching?”

Uhtred glanced at the king and nodded. (Y/N) groaned.

“So, after Edward, it's your turn?” Uhtred inquired, earning himself a murderous glance from the princess.

“He'll probably be a twat or at least hundred years old,” she grumbled in disappointment. “Beocca presented me with a list of potential candidates. About each one, he says they are pious, as if I were looking for a personal priest and not a husband. Why can't he say that one of them is kind? Wise? Or handsome.”

She shifted her gaze to Sihtric and smiled mischieviously.

“We only hope to be invited to your wedding, Princess,” Finan laughed, observing his friend's bashful demeanor. "I'm keeping my fingers crossed that he'll be no older than ninety-nine.”

“That's kind of you. By the way, Sihtric, did you take that bath-”

“Princess!” Father Beocca called out as he passed by. “Maybe nunnery isn't the worst idea.”

Humorous remarks and a grin froze on her lips when (Y/N) looked into her sister's eyes. The food tray nearly slipped from her hands.

Aethelflaed didn't have to say anything. She didn't have to scream or complain about her misfortune. (Y/N) understood everything from that one look and felt the unpleasant sting of tears.

“I will kill him,” she declared forcefully, slamming the tray onto the wooden table with a loud bang. “I will kill that arse.”

“(Y/N), please...” Aethelflaed whispered. “It won't do any good. And I am capable of handling it myself.”

“You shouldn't even say that,” her sister protested, getting closer and gently placing her hands on Aethelflaed's cheeks. They were wet. “It's alright, sweetheart, it's alright.”

She planted a kiss on the top of her head and headed towards the door.

“Don't tell anyone, (Y/N). Especially not father,” she begged, getting up.

“I'll only speak to those who already know,” (Y/N) replied, barely containing her anger towards Aethelflaed's pathetic husband. “You're the Princess of Wessex, for God's sake. You're his woman, and he shouldn't treat you like this. He won't have a cock if he lays a hand on you again, trust me.”

“You'll get into trouble, (Y/N),” Aethelflaed warned, shaking her head nervously. “He can hurt you as well-”

The princess didn't listen, for she had already left the chamber. Blind rage consumed her, but so did a sadness so great that it was even more dangerous than her anger. She knew there was something wrong with him. She shouldn't have allowed this marriage to happen.

She should have protected her sister.

Aethelred appeared just in time. He strode down the corridor, his posture straight, absentmindedly trailing his hand along one of the tapestries.

“Lord Aethelred,” she snarled, making no effort to be polite. “I was hoping to have a word with you.”

The man turned slowly, bestowing upon her the sweetest and most deceitful smile.

“Little princess.”

(Y/N) tried to calm herself, but she wasn't making much progress.

“Let's get to the point,” she hissed, finally getting Aethelred to reveal his true face from behind the mask he wore daily at the royal court. “I saw my sister and the state she's in. I will not tolerate such insolence or cruelty. Who do you think you are? Hurt her again and I...”

That pile of shit started laughing.

“Terrifying is the barking of an angry bitch.” He took a few lazy steps in her direction. “I almost pissed myself in fear.”

“And you should, because I promise that...”

Aethelred rushed forward, pressing her against the wall with a hand around her throat.

“Well, what? What will you do? Maybe you'll switch places with her to spice up this tedious life of mine a little bit."

Sihtric wandered through the palace, looking for lord Uhtred his excuse, but in reality he hoped for an encounter with the princess. They were about to head out from Winchester soon. Leaving without saying goodbye was not something he wanted.

He found them just in time as (Y/N) pushed Aethelred back with all her might and punched him in the face. They all heard the unmistakable crunching sound.

Lord of Mercia was trying to regain his balance, clinging to his bloody face in shock.

“You whore,” he snapped, but Sihtric was already nearby, placing his hand warningly on the axe.

“Hope I misheard something,” he said to Aethelred, voice dripping with venom, and then looked at the princess. “Are you alright?”

“She broke my nose, of course she’s fine,” the man snorted, trying to stop the flow of blood. “You will answer for it. Just wait. And your heathen friends won’t rush to your rescue, I assure you.”

(Y/N) took a deep breath, holding on to the fist that struck Aethelred. She watched him leave with an absent look in her eyes, and then as if she finally registered Sihtric's presence.

If he had come a few moments earlier, he'd surely fling himself at that arsehole in her defense. But it turns out she was perfectly able to fight back. Sihtric felt a sudden surge of admiration and respect for the princess in a beautifully embroidered dress, who did not hesitate to throw a punch.

“Are you sure he didn’t do anything to you? Shall I go after him?” he asked, but instead of answering, (Y/N) slid slowly down the wall. Sihtric crouched beside her, worried as never before. He gently held the injured hand. He raised her bruised knuckles to his lips, but left only the ghost of touch on them. “Princess?”

“He hurt her,” (Y/N) sobbed helplessly. She wasn't supposed to tell anyone, but she had a feeling Sihtric would know how to keep a secret. “He hurt her and he will hurt her again, and there’s nothing I can do. He will hide behind his title, behind his lands, wealth and nobility. He was right. I can't do anything."

She was shaken by a wave of tears, and Sihtric instinctively embraced her with one arm and supported the back of her head with the other. She cried there on the cold floor, in the arms of a warrior who couldn't stand the sight.

He knew what was going on. And his heart ached at the thought.

“You were very brave,” he whispered, letting her lean on his chest. “Others would look away. You confronted him. You are a brave, brave girl.”

He kept saying it like a mantra, holding her in his arms until the crying subsided. He wiped the tears from her face with the thumb of his hand when she finally lifted her head.

“I won’t run away from that either,” she whispered in a faint voice. Sihtric raised his eyebrows in a questioning gesture. “I can laugh about it and put it off, but I’m just a woman with a cursed title before my name. They'll hand me over to a man I won't choose. And he will have the right to violence as soon as we tie the knot.”

Sihtric shook his head. This fate wasn’t meant for her. There was strength and courage in this lady’s heart that demanded freedom. And demanded love, the wild and untamed kind. 

“It can not be like that. I won’t allow it.”

“You don’t have much power in this matter, Sihtric. You don’t make the rules.”

“Let me decide for myself.”

He looked into the eyes of the princess and knew that the battle he would have to face was beyond his means. The only witnesses to this promise were the faces on the ancient tapestries. Men's faces behind unbreakable laws, traditions and customs.

But Sihtric Kjartansson was a warrior. And if there’s one thing that warriors can do, they can fight.

[kissorkill16]

Abnormal Animal Behavior: A Hello Neighbor Fanfic

By JJ

Summary: Finch and Nicky go exploring in the woods to try and find out what's causing all of this animal violence.

P.S., this takes place after Typical Raven Behavior.

I know what you're thinking.

What in hell is Nicky doing with Finch?

The bitch, the bratty girl scout, the bully, the girl who took a picture of his mental breakdown, the girl whose Halloween costume was literally him in a straightjacket.

But she apologized for that. Yeah, she was threatened to, but at least she showed some remorse. It's not like they were friends or anything, just because she apologized didn't mean they were friends now, they were neutral, but not friends.

And they were only here to investigate the animals.

Something in the back of Nicky's head told him that this might be a trick. Finch had a knack for tricking people and taking humiliating pictures of them, but now that her camera was broken, she couldn't take pictures.

But this could still be a trick.

"You said these animals had bloodshot demon eyes, you better not be lying to me. Because I swear to God, Finch, if this is another one of your tricks -"

"I promise it's not. The animals are seriously going crazy."

They walked through the woods, ignoring the signs that said "Danger" and "Don't feed the animals".

The kids nearly jumped out of their skins when they heard the rustle of bushes.

"You heard that, right?", Finch asked Nicky.

"Oh I heard it alright.", replied Nicky. He moved closer to Finch and held her hand. "We should stay close together. Just so nothing jumps out of the bushes and snatches us up or anything."

Finch gripped Nicky's hand, "Yeah, totally."

They continued to walk through the woods, trying to ignore all of the terrifying sounds that came from all different directions. Hissing, twig snapping, scratching, they even thought they heard a scream come from somewhere throughout the woods.

"That's probably nothing.", Finch said to herself, not really believing it herself. She knew she heard a scream. No animal could ever make that sound. Well, except maybe a goat, but there were no goats in the woods.

Finch closed her eyes, trying not to get scared. She wondered what she was thinking when she snuck into the woods with Nicky, she wanted to know what in the world her dad would think when he found out that his daughter is in the woods with a boy.

She knew if they died here, it'd be all on her. Because she gave the information to Nicky about the animals, and she's the one who suggested to go into the woods.

A fox jumped out of a bush, making the two jump back in fear.

"Oh God!", Nicky nearly shrieked. Then he looked closer at the fox.

Its eyes were all the way a bright, glowy red. Finch wasn't lying when she said this wasn't normal.

"I told you.", Finch whispered to Nicky. "Don't get too close to it, it might bite you."

The kids slowly backed away from the fox, knowing that one wrong move could set it off. They actually managed to get pretty far away from it, but Nicky accidentally stepped on a twig, earning a snap.

The fox jumped onto Nicky's shirt, clawing at him and leaving red marks on his face. Nicky tried hard to push it off, but nothing he seemed to do worked.

Then a pebble came by, hitting the little fox in the face, knocking it off.

He looked to where the pebble came from, and he saw Finch holding a slingshot.

"Holy shit.", he whispered.

"Do you like it? I made it.", she said excitedly. She helped Nicky up and watched him dust himself off.

"Yeah, thanks for the save. You weren't lying about the animals, that was completely not normal. What do you think it is?", he asked.

"I'm not sure. But from the red eyes, I think it might be either mind control or possession."

"Yeah. But from what though?"

Before Nicky could even receive an answer, his eyes widened at what he saw behind Finch. Finch turned around to see what he was looking at, and she didn't like what she saw.

A tall, cloaked figure with a beak sticking out of its hood. The figure stood there menacingly.

"Is that Crowface?", asked Finch.

"Yes, that's him.", replied Nicky.

The figure slowly raised its arms, summoning a murder of crows on each side of the woods. Each crows eyes were bloodshot red, and made the kids start slowly backing off.

They started slowly backing away, but then they thought "Screw it!" and just started making a run for it.

The murder of crows started charging at them, clawing at them with their talons, pecking them everywhere with their beaks, and cawing loudly in their ears.

Finch and Nicky tried swatting them away, keeping their eyes closed so the crows couldn't peck their eyes.

The two finally made their way out of the woods, recognizing all of the signs they saw before they came in here. It was then that the crows finally let up.

Nicky fell down to his knees, breathing heavily.

"Are you okay?", Finch asked, also breathing heavily.

"Yeah, I'm fine.", replied Nicky. "What about you?"

"A crow snapped my hair tie, but apart from that, I'm fine.", she said, dusting herself off. "Do you think that thing knows something about the animals?"

"Definitely. After all, it did unleash an army of crows at us."

Finch helped Nicky stand up, "Maybe Crowface is the one mind controlling the animals. You did mention that when you, Delroy, and Trinity went here, he set crows after you guys and just disappeared?"

"Yeah.", said Nicky. "So everything we know about Crowface is that he gave Trinity a coin, and it has supernatural powers, such as teleportation and mind control."

The two walked down the sidewalk together.

"At first, I thought he was just a guy in a costume. But no regular human being could make animals attack us on command. What do you think?", asked Finch.

"Yeah, Crowface isn't a guy in a costume. The guys don't really know that yet, but I think they'll find out sometime, or I could tell them."

Finch nodded in agreement.

"Hey, do you have a spare hair tie?"

[screamingcrows]

Nothing will be spared

Chapter 3 - Death fills the streets

Notes: Listen, I don't know either at this point. Don't squint too hard at this, and do not use this for AI. Tags: dottore x fem!reader, reincarnation au, canon-divergent, angel reader, death, hurt/comfort, mild body horror, medium burn but it will go up in flames, teyvat speculation if you squint, written pre Natlan release Minors, blank, and ageless blogs; DNI

No stars streaked across the sky that night, wholly obscured by a blanket of clouds carrying nothing but empty promises. Zandik had sat curled up in the same spot since the sun had descended, watching as it stole color from the world and left the lone moon a monochrome heritage.

The air was cold against his skin, the single canvas that stretched from an outcrop in the cliff doing little to properly keep the wind at bay. It soothed the fresh wounds littering his hairline, save when sand was blown up and caught on the tender flesh.

There was the added bonus of keeping him awake as well, shivering to stay warm made it impossible to find rest, especially paired with the vision of you advancing, pure conviction in your eyes. The humble oasis lay a little further from the rocky wall, and he could barely make out the dark silhouettes of athel wood leaves rustling in the air.

"Rest is important Zandik, I've already sworn no harm will come to you," your voice was infuriatingly tender as it permeated the darkness. He'd lost track of how many times the worry you were peering into his mind had surfaced.

"And I have made it abundantly clear that the word of someone who drew their blade, did nothing, and provided no explanation means nothing," how he wished his voice hadn't cracked with exhaustion, the toll of being awake for days becoming unbearable.

Distant lights danced along the periphery of his vision, braziers burning brightly within the imposing walls of his childhood home. It paled in comparison to the sight you made, skin gently alight, far less intense than any flame but easily twice as mesmerizing to find himself lost in.

The sound of shifting sand met his ears, causing alarm to rise at the prospect of being buried. A few pebbles clattered down from above, a wenut burying nearby the most likely explanation. Hopefully it would stay away from the little makeshift camp, having learned firsthand how much of a blessing it was to have solid rock beneath any place of rest.

"I'm aware. And I truly regret shattering any tentative trust, it was," your voice sounded almost pained as he refused to meet your eyes, "another foolish mistake. One I wish to atone for."

Zandik found himself wanting to drown in them, still haunted by the way your eyes had seemed to reflect a sea of stars bathed in molten gold for but a second before pupils had emerged to temper them. They swaddled his heart in belief, fighting the tug at his consciousness that begged him to trust. You'd known the secret he had sworn to take with him to the eternal slumber, that alone was enough to rouse his curiosity. Letting you slip through his fingers with nothing to show would be idiotic.

"Tell me who- no what exactly you are," he had his suspicion of course, but hearing it confirmed from your lips would be sweeter, busying his hands with a few mountain dates you'd collected earlier.

There was clear hesitation carved in the lines across your features, doubt when you pulled the feathered cloak a little tighter, "I'm afraid those questions are difficult to answer in any way that will leave you satisfied."

He found the air leave his lungs when you scattered a handful of sand into the air before him, several grains shimmering as they created the outline of a small bird.

"Akin to the jinni who shared your home, divinity brought me into being. My name is-" he caught the way you paused, turning his gaze to the sky and squinting to catch what had caught your attention, "not relevant. My purpose defines me, and that is to keep you safe."

Disappointment in being proven wrong, only 'akin' to the jinn then, was swiftly forgotten and the last syllables rang true. Divinely ordained protection? He wanted to balk at such a ridiculous notion. Even if his family had ties, it was nothing short of absurd to expect any concern from beings like that. Why else would his people be allowed to suffer at the hands of a tyrant?

Yet there you sat.

He couldn't help an airy chuckle before speaking up, "Some sentinel you are, claiming peace while swinging a sword," he hoped the words made you wince, "tell me what I've done to warrant this."

Meeting his end on your blade would've been a kinder fate than the sorrowful look currently pinning him to the arid ground as you spoke a single word, 'Nothing'.

It was impossible not to wonder, then, the extent of misfortune that extended from whatever mistake you claimed to have made. Cruel mockery of freedom if someone like you could simply appear from a mirage and claim ownership of his misfortune.

"How did you-" he paused, already knowing you would refuse to answer that phrasing, "you called me by a different name than anyone else, one you clearly knew I would recognize despite having never heard it said aloud. Why?"

A curse nearly slipped past his lips at your tentative hum, the picture of composure as you sat there with a straight back, hands unmoving in your lap in stark contrast to how his own itched to swat at the countless little pests moving in the dry air.

"It's the name you recognize as yours, isn't it?"

"I wouldn't quite go so far as claim ownership over something that came from thin air," it was his, as much a part of him as the blood coursing through his veins, "It is something I remember, but cannot find the origin of."

He felt frustration rise at the thought, knowing the answer was sitting peacefully just to the left, adamantly refusing salvation.

"Consider an empty chalice, if I were to pour in the juice from both pomegranate and henna berries, what would you have?"

Unable to stop himself from blurting out a response as your words hung in the air, he found heat prickling his skin as he spoke, "A foul mix…"

Were you suggesting he was more than a single person? It would be a laughable notion if he didn't remember the smell of burning flesh and cold nights on the ground he had certainly not lived through. His fingers brushed the cool sand as he stretched his legs out, well at least he hadn't lived through less than optimal sleeping conditions before recently.

"Perhaps, but that makes it no less real."

"And you want me to believe this?"

"It is well beyond the scope of my authority to dictate your beliefs, but I do not wish to see you suffer needlessly in the pursuit of answers out of your reach."

Out of his reach? The notion stung more than it had any right to, kicking up sand with the sole of his shoe.

When he found the will to argue next, the clouds had drifted enough to leave the sky above where he lay fully exposed; a vast abyss that remained comforting in its constancy. Surely, they would hold the answers he sought, hidden in the patterns his elders spent lifetimes mapping.

"Then what is the point of telling me? It's just another cryptic statement to keep me awake, the exact thing you expressed such concern over," he'd tired considerably, head throbbing with the possibilities and rendering wholly unable to keep resignation from his voice.

If he was Zandik as well, and why would he not be, why else would he remember, then that opened possibilities he didn't have the energy to deal with. Unless it was all a product of a damaged mind. A shudder ran through him at the thought of how the halls would sometimes echo with his mother's frenzied cries.

No answer came as his eyes closed, thoughts swirling like a personal sandstorm. He was almost too far gone to notice when something shifted his head, soft fabric meeting his cheek and careful fingers carding through his hair. Too fatigued to properly snap, he simply huffed, refusing to acknowledge the ache of something familiar clutching at his heart.

How had he forgotten the feeling of you, cradling him among clouds?

Gait assured and hands clasped firmly behind his back as he strode away from the clamor, piercing the fog of cries for salvation with all the assurance of a ruler. The performance was certainly enough to fool the crowd, their eyes glittering in the sunlight that reflected from his mask. It was with a heaving chest and shaking hand that he pushed aside the thin fabric at the entrance to your shared space, shoulders visibly slumping when their desperate cries faded to a soft bustle.

Heavy scents lingered upon the evening breeze, soon to be accompanied by a clatter of plates as food would be shared. They were surviving, but it was clear from their longing expressions that they weren't living.

His white cloak was discarded practiced haste, tossed into a pile of scattered papers occupying the vast majority of space. A proud smile tugged at the edges of your guilty conscience, a more permanent companion these days than the certainty that should line your movements.

"They certainly have no qualms throwing their desires onto me," exhaustion barbed his words, brown gloves being adjusted with almost obsessive care, twisting this way and that until the leather yielded.

How you'd ever thought yourself able to strike him down was a wonder. The fear in his eyes had been too much, rendering you unable to so much as keep your weapon materialized, much less follow through on Her guiding words.

"You've given them a taste of hope," you met him with a faltering smile upon seeing the hesitation, his hand stilling at the clasp holding the mask in place, "it is no wonder they cling."

"I helped them organize this pathetic little camp, they survive because they're hardy. Any devotion is founded in misplaced trust," his words were broken by a little huff as he practically collapsed onto a mat.

The tent rustled as a strong wind passed, something that'd become more prevalent as of late. You had both been perfectly comfortable in solitude, alone and sheltered by a modest stretch of canvas at night. Not that you needed the rest, but it had quickly become evident that he slept more soundly with another close by, even if it had never been acknowledged.

Your hands had moved of their own accord, removing the heavy brass and discarding it as he loathed, for a moment considering if it should disappear into the pile of books and papers to your right. Routine led your movements, digging out the ointment he'd been offered by a former courtesan. The color almost as vibrantly crimson as his eyes, henna berry and an elusive flower from the north blending together in a soothing paste that aided the wounds along his jaw.

Application had become an almost meditative routine, one Zandik had only agreed to hone if it was done by your hand, having looked at the paste with disgust the first time he'd put his fingers to it. The first step was by far the most precarious, bringing the dark metal to his cheek and reverently letting it glide along the curves of his jaw. He hardly breathed while you worked, your mind praising the metalworker three tents away who gladly tended every tool brought before him.

Next came the viscous paste itself, no doubt cool against his burned skin if the way he hissed was any indication. Why he would insist on bearing that damning visage would never make sense, not now that the meager support he'd scraped together had grown to a gathering of devout followers. There was nothing to hide from here.

"They are getting better," your thumb dragged along his cheekbone, seeing as the bloody mixture disappeared into his skin, "a day or two without-"

"Out of the question. If you are finished, a newcomer brought me a new script. Claims they took it from the library."

Your fingers lingered for a moment before withdrawing in resignation, knowing it was not for you to intervene but hating how his back groaned when he finally stretched from hours of meticulously studying every letter in isolation. If only he could understand, never had he been as loved as he was this time, and yet he remained insistent on dismissing any attempt at assimilating before swiftly retreating to his corner.

He'd done it with his parents, grandmother, servants, and now followers. With you as well, you supposed, seeing him wrap a blanket around his shoulders, back turned as he sat hunched on the ground. How long would he have left before it turned as fate decreed?

Convincing him to rest would be tethering a bird to the ground. Instead, you sat in motionless meditation as the solitary moon began its journey across the sky, accompanied only by the frantic scribbles of a quill.

Weeks turned to months. The influx of people never ceased as rumors of benevolence, an oasis outside the divinely blessed abode of the jinn-mother and her children, spread like a plague. It had become livelier, and even with several additional hands, the hunters were struggling to keep everyone fed. Distrust grew like weeds between them, and while laughter remained dominant, discourse had long since become a norm.

How long until he would be held responsible for not acting upon pleas he had nothing to do with but the ties of his blood?

You let the fabric fall, obscuring the outside world from view as clipped words reached your ears from the darkness behind you, "Could you be used as a weapon?"

His questions had gotten sharper. A hum left your lips, head turning to drink in the trembling fingers struggling not to crush delicate parchment between them. Prying them from his grasp would be difficult, but better.

Absolutes were rare, yet this required no thought, the simple refusal leaving your lips in a heartbeat.

The crease between his brows and the way his lips twitched had him appear more beast than man, "There is a mention of something descending from beyond the stars and a war ensuing, most of it is destroyed but you" his eyes were ablaze with the same hunger present whenever he drew his last breaths, "you claim the skies as your home. Tell me what you know."

He had risen to his feet, staggering forward with the desperation of a wounded predator. Sleep had been fleeting, the unease of being among so many settling in crevices he would always refute existed, cracks that seemed to spread the longer he searched.

It wasn't quite the question he wanted answered, but your voice remained even throughout providing what little you could, "I'm afraid I must disappoint, I've met no mention of such a confrontation. Stories can be nothing more but flights of mortal fancy," you paused for a moment, seeing his lips wobble around a snarl, "what might once have been a becomes a legend to mistakenly be passed on as history, how the past is preserved is a fickle thing for you."

"Do you follow me around just to revel in my failures, is that it?" There was no time to interrupt, and perhaps it was for the better that emotions were finally bursting forth. "You insist on being here to aid me, with what you refuse to say. You set yourself apart from mortals but refuse to elaborate. I have played your games for months now-"

"And despite every nudge to focus on living, you refuse to listen." It was perverse how much your voice took after Her, a steadying breath necessary to quell the feeling of something rising in your throat before you could continue. "These people look to you for leadership, they have been wronged and you have the means to set it right. They're already entrusting you with-"

"I have no desire to lead anyone! Is it so difficult to understand that there are enough matters for me to solve without being held responsible for the tyranny of a man who scorned me? You will never understand what it is like to be unwanted, no you were brought into this world bathed in starlight and certainty weren't you?" he took a shaky breath which only served to make your heart ache as his voice lowered to a whisper, "I need to know who I am, and 'setting things right' will do nothing but waste my time."

How much longer would you be forced to watch him claw to gain footing? How cruel it was that he could, for once, make a place for himself among a grateful flock yet refused to settle. It was brimstone against your tongue to know yourself responsible for how he clung to a past that shouldn't be his to know.

Perhaps adoration wasn't a sickness upon the mind, nor was reveling in it a symptom, as he had spent years convincing himself. Your soft caress had eased acceptance through his skin and replaced unruly dreams. More time had been spent in the sun, establishing a more robust food supply with irrigation having been a priority. He could only pray that the Mistress of Dreams would not let their supply run dry.

It would be blatant falsehood to say their smiles as he passed did nothing to fill a bleeding gash he'd no memory of being inflicted.

Three names. Three roles contained in the same body. One of which remained just out of reach, feeling incomplete in his mind. Shiruyeh, Khorramdin, and Zandik. That he remembered bits, things that seemed to sadden you whenever mentioned, spoke of the authenticity. Zandik had lived a life as real as you. If only the entirety could be brought back, let it explain itself.

Beyond a sorely needed change of perspective, there was another thing leadership offered; many hands working in unison under his guidance could accomplish far more in the same time. Though he mused it would be easier if they all shared his ambitions.

The number of newcomers had been rapidly declining as well, allowing for a better establishment of routines although he mourned the loss of new materials to study that they would bring as a type of 'sacrifice' to be permitted to stay. Who would an exile have been to deny shelter in the first place? Still, he had gladly accepted, piling the scrolls in a precious hoard.

He struggled for breath, barrel of water heavy in his arms as he kept pace with the group heading back. It was a satisfying sight that rose to meet them, the numerous tents making up what could almost be considered a village. A chuckle left his lips and mixed with the voices of others, some child further ahead busying themselves 'protecting' the rest with their little toy sword.

Zandik paused to adjust the mask, feeling the sweltering heat of the metal through his glove as he took the opportunity to breathe unimpeded for a moment. The sky above seemed inviting, free of the large vultures that plagued them from time to time; the blue backdrop far from the descriptions of bleeding skies when divinity had arrived in this world.

Not created.

Most likely, it was another romanticized tale of the Mistress of Dreams and Amon. It did nothing to ease the nagging feeling whenever his fingers had grazed the parchment. He'd yet to find mention of the name that plagued his tongue.

Records mentioned his grandfather, destined for greatness, recognized by Amon himself and gifted a wife and insight. Servants who had fled his father's tyranny claimed honey came laced with poison in that place and any mention called for a severed tongue. A forbidden repository of knowledge and a paranoid father. There had to be something, especially if he'd truly managed to add the wisdom of Hermanubis to his collection.

Were the answers out of reach because they lay buried with the past? Time was the ally of progress, and history his enemy with it's insatiable maws, swallowing up all that he needed to consult. How had he been birthed with the memories of another? Simply beginning to consider the implications hurt, when would he end and Zandik begin? And did it even matter?

It had grown to infest his every waking thought, seeing patterns in the sand and shadows amidst rays of light. The truth was what he craved above all else. Years of restraint had left him weary as the populace who fled to his embrace. He tasted their bloodlust in the air growing with every day they scraped by.

Quick words were exchanged when they set down the fruits of their labor, several others coming to take away the spoils and divide it among those in need. He felt glances cast from all directions, the telltale sound of metal against whetstone making his skin crawl. They were all as restless as him, perhaps you were right. It would come to bloodshed no matter what, a coordinated effort would have greater chances of success.

You were, as always at this hour, kneeling on the ground in some sort of trance. How predictable for something so frustratingly inexplicable.

"I will be gone for a day. Remain here, tell them I am unwell and require solitude if questions arise," he'd seen you with the others, how easily you had them singing and smiling trough hardships, listening to stories that were always cut short upon his arrival. There should be no problem leaving you to keep them occupied.

The feathered cloak you refused to shed rustled with movement, voice even in its refusal, "Where you go, I am required to follow."

Required? That was new.

"I have something to settle alone."

"And there are reasons that require never letting myself stray far, I apologize, but this is a wish I cannot grant."

Your presence in particular had been easy to accept once the initial unease of someone constantly peering silently at him had settled. Perhaps it was the way your eyes never held the judgement of his teachers, nor the unstable glint of his parents, there was nothing but compassion no matter how he scrutinized it. Or perhaps it was how a name not really his rolled from your tongue with something a lesser man would be deluded to call love. Though your words were shrouded in something that had his skin crawl, it was never malicious.

"I was not asking, sentinel, I was laying out the facts."

The little shake of your head had him instinctively crossing his arms, prone to feeling like a petulant child in your presence.

"At least share your endeavors that I might rest easy."

"Southwest. It is only a matter of time before unrest kindles to flame, if I can broker a peace any unnecessary loss can be avoided," loss of both lives and history.

If done with care, nothing that mattered would be lost. Knowledge suffers when cities are set ablaze, punctuated by the lack of more than a single measly mention of something as grand as gods arriving.

"You wish to meet the man who exiled you, alone? And what is to say he won't strike you down for returning?" It was rare to see such a display of raw emotion from you, the urgency in your voice having him take a few steps forward, eager for your eyes to come into view.

"I doubt he would recognize my voice. My face will be obscured and there is no reason to believe I would come back-"

"To a throne that is rightfully yours?"

"He should know that I have never wanted that."

Zandik knew he would be struck down the moment he set foot in the city. His wishes had never mattered in the face of whatever glimpse of fate had been bestowed upon that old man. But you didn't need to know.

It stung to see him leave in the dead of night, but not nearly as much as going directly against his directions. For respect alone had you stayed aloft, far out of earshot while he met with a woman on the outskirts of the city, both of them having had enough foresight to stay huddled in the shadows cast by the walls. It had done little to soothe your nerves, eyes darting between them and the walls to catch any emerging threat. There'd been a touch of something upon the air, the crackle still lingering along your skin weeks after.

"People have begun pouring into the camp again."

You hoped that approaching conversationally would be enough to have him share more of whatever plan had been brewing, the urge to extract the information having made itself present on more than one occasion since he'd ventured to Gurabad. There was something about the woman that made your skin crawl, something fundamentally wrong with the subdued grin she'd worn.

"Be quiet, today has been long," a small frown tugged at your lips when he turned away, dragging the blanket he always complained was itchy a little further up his body.

"Zandik," a failure it would seem, you urged your voice to soften further, "I'd be grateful if you would tell me what the result of your meeting was."

His breath hitched almost imperceptibly when your hand came to rest atop his head, nails dragging along his scalp. It was delightful how much easier providing comfort was to the living bodies rather than the ones you would conjure for their souls.

"There's no agreement to be made with that old bastard, he's too far gone according to-.. According to an advisor. There's nothing but his own greed left. He might as well be a senseless monster."

Sounds of laughter filtered through the tent, only serving to make him curl up a little further, songs filling the air with hope that seemed a little more tangible than usual.

"I hesitated to tell you since you've refused to be a weapon. I sent out a few to recruit other settlements who might want a piece of the spoils when we take back the city. Those remaining from the temple have pledged their support as well, promising me unlimited access to the collections in return for their freedom," a scoff left his lips, your ears only faintly picking up the words mumbled into his covers, "to think he'd stoop low enough to seize Tulaytullah…"

You hadn't questioned him then. Hadn't questioned when the day came either, the air eerily cool even as the blazing sun rose, as if that would cool the fury of the oncoming slaughter. There were rustles among the uneven ranks, borrowed weapons clutched too tightly in their hands. It hurt to see them charge, droplets of red saturating the sand where bodies fell. Your hand itched for the familiar hold of the blade, ceremonial more than anything, as you perched atop a crumbling wall, eyes scanning the clamor below for Zandik's masked visage.

Carnage raged like a tempest as exhausted guards were met with a flood of rage. A deep breath to settle the thrum of desperation that bid you to reach out a hand and join your descending kin. It stung in a foreign way to see as souls were lifted from bodies you knew.

A flicker of darkness in your periphery making you turn your head and blink. Gone as quickly as it had appeared.

For a moment, it seemed his rebellion would be successful when the great machines patrolling the streets creaked loudly and began to crumble, cheers erupting all around them.

For a moment, fate left your mind.

Until the world heaved with torment and brought you back, watching as a single wave of sand rolled through the streets and uprooted buildings. People were scattered, thrashing like dying fish before clambering to their feet. Horror swam through your vision as the ground split open, gaping maw devouring everything caught between its jaws.

No thoughts ran through your head, limestone structures meaningless as they sunk around you and screams filled the air. Someone was barking out panicked commands above, a watcher, but it didn't stick, it didn't matter if you couldn't find Zandik. You couldn't fail again.

His lungs struggled to take in air, choking instead on something thicker than smoke that had his lungs about to burst. Could he move his hands, he might have clawed a hole in his throat just at the feeble hope of breathing again. His ears were ringing, from the pressure of something around him or simply fear was uncertain.

Right. There had been a hulking monstrosity in place of the man who'd thrown him out. A fitting replacement. The thought that it could be him was shoved far away, unable to consider such a possibility while his own body writhed around its bones.

It had snapped its jaw, beautiful black liquid dripping from teeth made to rend flesh. Liloupar had waved a hand before it advanced in rolling thunder, cracking tiles beneath its paws with ease. His sword had been no use against it, shattering like brittle clay bathed in flames.

Why couldn't he feel any of the injures he knew he'd sustained?

He swore there were shadows moving around him, some falling further and others stalking as though on solid ground. A distant clamor as well, muffled as though moving through liquid. Zandik wanted to scream and curse as they did.

Liloupar had exerted control over the monster, however fleeting it had been, she had done this.

Ah what he wouldn't give in exchange for control when his mind drowned out the commotion. Save us Khorramdin save us help us free us failure. Not even in this suffocating darkness would their voices leave him alone, begging for salvation from someone who couldn't even save himself. Pathetic, wasn't it? That it had taken him a single burst of resolve to doom not only himself but everyone who'd believed in him.

"Foolhardy child. Thank you."

Liloupar's laughter had been the last sound he could properly pinpoint, her form rapidly vanishing with the light. There was someone else as well, someone moving towards him. He struggled in the air, with nothing to grasp or push from it was impossible to fight the descent. No sound passed his lips, finding that even the attempt had skin stretching in odd places, jaw pulled taught at the slightest movement. He couldn't part his lips. With sluggish movements, a hand came to examine his face, shaking the entire way as he fought to stay calm.

Why wasn't he screaming? The pressure in his lungs, the muscles tensing in his abdomen. He should be screaming.

The answer was easily available upon inspection, the seam of his lips regressed into nothing but smooth skin. Before realization could freeze his blood, a sickening crack pulled his attention away and had his head swimming.

He thrashed in the air for a moment, bent back into an unnatural angle before colliding with solid ground. It was cold as ice, no definitive texture, but unmistakably there as he struggled to his knees. There was a softness to it, the same tenderness as raw meat. If he strained his ears, there was a slight squelch with every shift.

There was a sea of movement around him, little ripples that he could only feel before warm creatures pierced his skin a thousand times over, wriggling beneath his hide and into every crevice as they pushed to separate skin from flesh in a sickening stretch.

Fear stung behind his eyes before they too were swallowed by the expansion of his skin, taking with it the last remnants of light as he lost the ability to open them, not having the heart to move his hands and confirm what he knew. He continued to thrash, wanting to shed whatever had claimed him, needing to at least try before he lost to the things that had burrowed into his bones.

Frantic sobs of his name pierced the abyss around him along a searing flash of light that he by all means shouldn't have seen before all fell silent.

[asherloki]

My queen !

Stephen strange x reader

Warning:- smut, 18+ content.

Request:- Stephen comes home from a long day of teaching martial arts to find the reader asleep with cloakie. It goes from sweet fluff to potential smut. Bonus points if he’s wearing his burgundy sleeveless robes. 🤩 @strangelockd

Thanks @vickie-mcmuffin for helping in a specific line.

After practice session on a wintery day all Stephen wanted is to have a goodnight sleep beside y/n. They've met when y/n came to practice at kamartaj. Everyone was in love with her, she's a young beautiful woman, sexy as well to Stephen , so to the other boys perhaps. But Stephen never knew he'd win her over.

He went to his room to see she's already asleep. Cloaky on top of her. He was playfully jealous how comfortably his cloak was sleeping with y/n, 'it should only be me' he thought to himself. Stephen loved his burgundy robes, cause it is y/n's favourite. When he looked at the mirror at his reflection wearing it he thought of how much his girlfriend likes it. As he looked at her he stared mesmerized, she looked incredibly sexy and beautiful in her silk house coat which hugged every curve perfectly. He went closer to her, his footsteps were silent but it still woke her up, she's a light sleeper. "Get up cloaky let me get in" he said cloaky lightly. Cloaky frowned and few away to the other corner of the room.

She looked at him with sleepy eyes. "Hi honey" said she sleepily streching her arms.

"Hey darling" said he and got on the bed to kiss her. She kissed him back. Passionately.

His kisses turned a bit hungrier. After pulling away she said, "Stephen?" She eyed him raising her eye brows.

"What?"

"I know where it's going"

"Would that be unpleasant to you?" He said with his heavy voice, lowering the tone more. y/n felt shivers down her spine.

"Not entirely" she replied.

To this strange kissed her even more passionately, that she moaned, he took that advantage and let his tongue enter her mouth.

Finally after pulling away he kissed her jaw line, sucking on it he groaned. Y/n closed her eyes in pleasure tugging his straight black hair.

His hands touched the silk belt of her house silk house coat. Untying it he slid it off her. Y/n gasped as his long fingers touched her bare skin. Sucking at her coller bone his hands went down to her left breast, playing with the hardened nipple he made y/n moan out his name louder. He loves her being loud. Cloaky blushed seeing such scenes in front. But was too shameless to look away, he kept enjoying them making love.

He got down sucking and kissing the swell of her breasts, Stephen always makes her moan loudly in pleasure. Her hands tugged his hair, trying to keep his head in position as he licked her pebbled nipples. His hands slide down to take off her pants as he caught her legs and kissed her thighs his breath near her core made her wetter. He gave a mischievous smirk which was enough for her to cum. He used his skilled tongue to lick all her juices. His hands pressed her waist down to keep her from moving, with a flick of finger y/n's one hand was tied to the bed post with mystical magic. "Delicious " he whispered, which vibrated against her pussy. It was hard for her to keep still when his tongue and mouth was doing so much. He sucked her clit rapidly making her feel her orgasm close. And the other kept tugging his hair as he ate her up.

"Stephen" she moan out his name as she was seeing stars, he made her cum with his tongue only. He sat up with her juices all over his beard and flicked his hand to untie her arm. She stayed there panting , he was removing his robes when she jumped up and went for a passionate sudden kiss, he kissed her back. The taste of her was on his tongue, still kissing she removes each layer of his clothing until he’s bare for her. running her soft small palms all over his body. He pushed her to lie on bed, and he on top of her,

"Ready to forget your name princess?"

"Don't call me that, I'm an ordinary woman with nothing special to be a princess"

" No you're to me, you're my would be queen" said he huskily to her ear.

"What? Ah" she couldn't finish her question when he thrusted into her.

He kept the thrusts slow at first, y/n put her left hand on the side of her head Stephen held it by intertwining fingers, tightly. With the right hand she held him closer by his neck. He leaned to kiss her again while thrusting slowly. Their bare bodies touching eachother was already pleasing enough.

"Stephen?" Whispered y/n

"Hm?" Replied he kissing her neck.

"You can go faster now, I think I'm getting another one.

"As you wish your highness " saying this he sat up with her right leg over his shoulder, positioning himself to hit her g-spot. Unholy sounds of their bodies and her loud moans filled the room. Other people beside their room might get some hint of the work that was happening in y/n and Stephen's room.

Stephen groaned in middle of fucking. To which y/n looked at him, unable to utter words between his faster thrusts. Stephen understood and said,

"I'm about to cum"

"Do... It...AH.. inside me" she said still moaning.

"What?" He asked surprised.

"Do it"

With a loud moan Stephen and y/n had their orgasm.

Stephen sat panting. "I wanna ask you something"

”really?"

He nodded in response. Stephen walked towards almirah and opened it. He came back with a ring box. Y/n sat up after seeing this.

"Well it's very inappropriate that we're both naked now." Said he laughing. He then put on his robes and y/n put on her silk gown. Stephen bent before her and said raising the ring.

"I can't offer you much, but my love, will you marry me?"

Y/n felt her eyes getting teary.

"Yes" said she. Stephen put the ring in her finger, and kissed her hand. Cloaky floated in joy around the room.

They stayed up for a few hours smiling, embracing eachother for some time, seeing a happy life ahead.

[smolgloves]

Tavern Brawl

Summary: Freya is back in Skaars Hollow, but trouble now greets the group.

Tw: alcohol consumption, murder/attempted murder, violence, blood drinking, dehumanizing language

The splitting headache from last night's fun had hit Freya harder than any drunk night had ever done before. She leaned back into Tav's neck, clutching her stomach as a wave of nausea hit; they were nice enough to find an old hooded cloak to put on for her to keep hidden from other travelers and the blinding light of the sun but no matter how careful they walked, their movements sent Freya's insides churning. “Please tell me we're almost there.” 

“It won't be much longer.” Tav spoke. “How much did you drink last night?” 

“I didn't keep track.” 

“I believe it was four.” Wyll laughed. “You were trying to prove you could handle the wine better than Shadowheart.” 

“I suppose that's why she's not with us right now.” Lae'zel spoke. “How pathetic of her to lose a drinking match with a tiny istik!”

Tav let out a gasp. “Gods, Freya, no wonder you feel like shit.” 

A flamboyant voice gave a laugh. “Maybe we should have thought about this before offering alcohol to a girl the size of a mouse.” 

Freya shot her head out of Tav's hood and locked eyes with the vampire. A devilish smirk twisted on his face caused a mix of shock and anger to knot up in Freya's gut. There he was walking along in the sunlight like it was a normal thing, his pale skin free of any burns! “What in the nine hells are you doing here?!” Freya snarled. “Shouldn't you be a pile of ash?” 

Astarion's eyes nearly lit up. “I'm special, Darling. The sun cannot hurt me anymore.” 

“It's more complicated than that…” Tav's voice fell into a whisper like they were debating on telling Freya what they meant. “Astarion has been infected with an illithid parasite… as have all of us.” 

Freya waited for the punchline to come but everyone remained silent, waiting in bated breath for her response. “You're serious?!” She hissed out before her throat tightened. Tav spoke but their words were muffled by the millions of thoughts running through Freya's head. Mind flayers weren't something many borrowers faced but they were still a name that lurked in their nightmares nonetheless. She didn't even think when she made a leap from Tav's shoulder in an attempt to flee from the would-be mind flayers, but Tav swiftly caught Freya and kept her in a loose fist. No amount of writhing was going to free the borrower. “Put me down!” 

“Bloody hells, Freya!” Tav exclaimed. “Just calm down and let us explain!” 

“Not until you let me down!” Freya shouted, still squirming to break free. “I will not be in the grip of an illithid!” 

“Okay, just don't run yet.” They dropped to their knees and set Freya on the ground, watching as she scrambled back for some distance. Freya almost expected them to reach out after her but Tav kept still. They didn't even flinch when she pulled her peashooter out and aimed at them. 

“Gods, it's almost like the little thing likes to jump to her death!” Astarion laughed but annoyance laced his voice. Freya was tempted to shoot a pebble at his other eye, but Tav quickly shot him a glare that practically said: “Don't start.”

Freya's gray eyes darted between the group. “Someone better start talking!” 

“So like I said, we were all infected with the illithid parasite.” 

“For a while now.” Wyll added. 

“How long?”

Tav turned to their comrades giving a silent exchange to one another before turning back to Freya. “Honestly, I lost track, must have been over a week now.” 

Freya's knowledge on mind flayers was rather limited but she knew enough to know anyone who was infected should have turned by this time. “Why haven't you transformed yet?” 

“That's what we're trying to figure out.” Tav replied. “We're hoping to find a cure and answers while traveling.” 

“The creche is the only place where we'll find the cure.” Lae'zel narrowed her eyes at the borrower. “We mustn't waste our time with these distractions.” 

“Skaars Hollow is on the way to the creche.” Tav responded bluntly. “Besides, taking out the goblins will help us earn some gold and we definitely need that for the road.” 

“So you just expect me to trust your word?” Freya squeaked out. 

Tav's softened when they looked over at her. “I wish I could give you a better answer.” 

A debate stirred in Freya, she was already pushing her luck by talking with larger beings who kept around a vampire that could walk in the sunlight, now she was talking to time bombs who could sprout Tentacles at any moment?! Yet she really wanted to believe Tav. Freya weighed her options, the only other one was to split ways with them now and travel back to Skaars Hollow alone. A whole day would go by, before she makes it back home and that would only increase her odds of getting in more trouble with the council. As bad of an idea as it was, she knew that she would get back faster while traveling with Tav. If no one has transformed yet, then maybe they won't transform at all, or at least until Freya is safely back to the colony. “I suppose I can extend my trust a little longer since we won't be around much more.” it was. It didn't stop the glimmer of ache poking it's way through her relief. Despite everything she'd grown rather...fond of the odd band.

“Yeah, we'll be out of your hair soon enough.” Tav smiled to hide a fragile look on their face, but Freya could tell they didn't want to necessarily part with her either. If things were different, maybe Freya could imagine herself venturing with this group, but borrowers and larger beings don't belong together. Still it hurt to know this would likely be the last time she ever saw Tav again. 

“It's so nice to see you come to your senses.” Astarion smiled but venom laced each word. “But we're burning daylight dealing with you.” 

Freya clenched her jaw, on second thought, there could never be a lifetime where she could travel with a group where Astarion roamed freely. 

~~~~

Everyone made it to Huskin's Tavern in one piece, goodbyes were said and Freya wished Tav well on their travels, before slipping in the a borrower entrance behind the tavern and started walking down the dark wooden halls. Now that her crazy journey was over, she could go back to doing her normal routine. Yet when Freya reached the borrower supply room located in the wine cellar, she couldn't help but feel alone. No one was there laughing and drinking wine, telling stories about their crazy adventures. Of course there wasn't anyone here, everyone should be at the colony, distributing this week's rations amongst each other. Freya knew she should get back to the colony before they noticed she was missing, if they haven't already. However, she wanted to see Tav one last time before they were gone for good.

The borrower ventured back into the walls and made her way to the shelves that held alcohol behind the counter, Freya kept to the shadows, hiding behind the towering bottles of liquor as she watched. Tav, Wyll, Lae'zel and Astarion were sitting at the bar, tense looks painted on their faces. 

“We're not trying to cause any problems.” Wyll said, his voice carried a sense of hope. “We just want to help.” 

“This plague is too much for the likes of you.” Huskin, the bartender, laughed. He was a rather large human whose face was covered in nasty scars from his youth. An elder once told Freya that he was part of a notorious gang back in Baulder's Gate years ago but left after shit went down. What happened was a mystery to this day. 

“So you know something.” Tav asked, their patience was growing thin. They must have been pressing him for a little bit now. 

Huskin leaned in close to the halfling. “Like I'd tell you, pipsqueak.” 

Instead of decking him, Tav just gave a smirk and pulled out a small pouch from their pocket. “Oh, not even for a little bit of coin?” 

The air grew silent as the two stared each other down. Freya couldn't see Huskin's face but she could just sense that cold smile still on his face. He turned towards Astarion who had remained eerily quiet during this discussion. “I think your friend's bounty is worth more than whatever you have, my friend.” 

An icy glare shot towards Huskin, even in Freya's short time with Astarion, he never gave such a murderous look quite like this one. 

Tav knocked back a shot. “I've already claimed his bounty.” 

“Right… I suppose you always let your bounties roam freely with a sword strapped to their side.” 

“He's useless to me, dead. Remember, the bounty calls for him alive.” 

“Then perhaps we can make an arrangement.” He leaned in real close to Tav, their noses damn near touching. “Your friend for information about the plague.” 

Tav gave a sly smile. “Deal.” 

“What?!” Astarion shot up from his seat. “You're really going to do this and for what?!” 

“Quiet!” Tav said in a cold tone. “I'm doing what's best for me!” 

Underneath That scowl was pain that flickered in Astarion's eyes. Freya couldn't blame him, this was a completely different side of Tav! A side that made her stomach twist in a knot and question whether or not Tav was who she thought they were. Astarion may have been an ass, but he didn't deserve to be sold out by a friend. She watched in horror as two patrons of the bar came up behind the vampire and grabbed him by the shoulder. He was about to resist, but Tav halted them. 

“Ah, you're not taking my bounty until you give me what I want.”

“There's a cave south of here.” Huskin replied. “A couple of interesting folks took camp there, this plague started ever since.” 

Wyll raised an eyebrow. “And no one wanted to investigate that?” 

Huskin Let out a boisterous laugh. “Even if anyone wanted to, they couldn't get past the barrier.” 

“Barrier? What kind of barrier?” Tav asked. 

“A magical one, obviously.” He scoffed. “Not to mention the goblins that lurk about, not many make it back from that place.” 

Freya took in the information, she knew about that cave but never trekked that far. It was one of the forbidden places to go to, rumors of beasts lurking in the shadows waiting to make a meal out of curious borrowers were told of that place, but there were also rumors of rare plants that could be used to make potions stronger than anything Freya has made before. It was a herbalist's dream, but even Freya wasn't bold enough to venture that far out! 

Tav leaned back in their chair. “Well, is there anything else I should know about this cave?”

“None that will keep you alive.” The bartender glared up at the vampire, forming a sinister smile. “Now since we're done here, I suggest the lot of ya fucks off. I don't wanna see you interfering with my bounty!”

The two thugs that held Astarion and went to drag him out the door, he was fighting to get out of their grasp but didn't utter a remark. Freya couldn't explain it but something felt off. 

“We were just going,” Tav counted out a few coins in their hands, they frowned and turned towards Wyll. “Would you mind helping me with the tab?” 

“With pleasure.” A devilish smirk formed upon Wyll's lips, he stood up but instead of reaching out to give gold, he spun to the two men dragging Astarion away and thrusted his hands forward, there was a sonic boom and both of the men were knocked back a few feet, crashing into a table. With his restraints free, Astarion drew his blade in an instant, followed by everyone else. Freya stood back, trying to wrap her head around what just happened. Her gray eyes darted from Tav to Astarion, they both possessed sly grins on their lips, clearly a deception method but Freya wondered if this was one they had performed multiple times. She didn't have time to dwell on it as Huskin shouted for the cooks to come out of the kitchen for backup. 

“So this is how it's gonna be?” Huskin growled, grabbing a wine bottle from the top shelf and chucking it towards Tav. They narrowly dodged it, the glass bottle shattered on the wall behind them. Within seconds, Chaos ensued, more lackys burst out from the kitchen and blades clashed; Freya could hardly tell who had the advantage! She did, however, see Tav fighting off The thugs with only their hands. It was quite a sight to see, their limbs were burning with a bright flame that only scorched their enemies! Freya has heard of monks that used the elements as extensions of their fists, she couldn't believe she didn't realize it sooner! That would explain Tav's more gentle demeanor, a much different Tav than the fierce fighter she was witnessing this moment! 

A scuffle caught the hidden borrower's attention, a half-orc had shoved Lae'zel back and pinned her to the bar, she snarled and grunted but even with her githyanki strength, the orc was much twice as big as her. He gave a toothy grin as he attempted to press her own blade into her throat. There wasn't much time to think, Freya reached for her peashooter and fired a pebble at the orc. She didn't get him in the eye like she hoped for but the small rock smacked him right in the cheek, causing him to flinch and search for the culprit. The split second of a distraction was all Lae'zel needed to shove him off of her and swing her sword, delivering a killing blow. She snapped her head over to the bar and locked onto the borrower with a fierce stare before turning back towards the fight. Freya could swear she saw a faint smile on the Githyanki. Adrenaline rushed through Freya, she couldn't do much but she could help Tav in little ways! The halfling was fighting off Huskin, Who swung an ax at them.They were nimble but even Freya understood the confined space was soon going to hinder them. She darted along the shelf with the intent of getting closer to get a better shot at Huskin, until a loud crash came behind her, causing the shelves to quake! She only looked back for a split second to see that one of the cooks was thrown into the wall. Everything happened so fast, in an instant, the wooden ground beneath Freya's feet collapsed on her, a scream erupted from her as she began her descent. She braced for a crude impact, yet she was blessed with a firm yet surprisingly soft landing. Freya opened her eyes to see she was on the chest of the cook that was thrown into the shelves she hid on. It was a bloody miracle she ended up there, but her luck was running out as he groaned and sat up; the borrower scrambled off him and made a break for it as soon as her feet hit the ground. She knew all the secret entrances like the back of her hand, if she can slip back into the walls, she could maybe get to another vantage point and help Tav before it's too late!

A hand slammed down in front of Freya and she skidded to a halt. A shadow loomed over her and dread squeezed her heart as she stared up at the man. He was a half elf with face tattoos, there wasn't much known about him but Freya had swore she once heard him mention a murder he once committed to the other cooks. His piercing blue eyes locked onto Freya and a sinister smile curled on his lips as his hand inched closer to her. 

Before Freya could even react, pale fingers wrapped around the cook’s shoulders and yanked him back. Astarion's face came into view, a wicked smile curled on his lips before his mouth went agape and he pierced the neck with his sharp fangs. A guttural cry erupted from the elf's throat as the vampire seemed to sink his teeth further into his neck, finally, Astarion ripped away from his victim, taking a chunk of flesh with him. Blood gushed out of the elf and rained down on the Freya. The elf dropped to the ground, his lifeless face now twisted in fear. The borrower stared up in horror at Astarion, his mouth dripping With blood and a hungry look that Freya has only seen in predators who tried to make a meal out of her. Ice shot through her veins the moment his wild, hungry eyes locked onto her. Time slowed down, the only thing racing was Freya's mind thinking just how easily Astarion could snatch her up and make a quick meal out of her. 

To her surprise, he never tried to reach for Freya. All he did was roll his eyes and rush back to the fight, leaving the borrower to herself. Freya felt like her heart was about to burst, the bar became a great shield for the tiny woman but the deafening sound of steel blades clashing steel made her jump now! She still wanted to help Tav, but she couldn't even think straight anymore with the stench of blood assaulting her nostrils! 

First things first, get back in the walls! Staggering her way through puddles of blood and broken glass, Freya could hear Tav scream out in pain, followed by a loud crash!

“No, you can't die. Get up damn you!” Astarion yelled out.

Freya froze in her tracks, fearing the worst had happened. Was it already too late to save Tav? Could she have helped them if someone didn't throw that elf into the wall? Freya was so caught up in her dreadful thoughts that she didn't notice anyone coming up to her until a firm hand clasped her shoulder and pulled her back to the inside the walls.

“Where in the bloody hells have you been, Freya?!” The older woman snapped. “Your uncle and Kes have been freaking out!” 

Freya locked eyes with the woman and instantly recognized her as Mirable, a woman who was the lead scouter for her colony. A trusted soldier that all listened too, the search party that followed behind her mirrored the same piercing glare Mirable gave to Freya. “I… got pinned here once this fight broke out.” 

“Do not play ignorant, girl!” Mirable snarled, her grip on Freya's shoulder grew tighter. “That elf saw you, the gith saw you! You were gone a whole day and you returned the same time this violent group showed up?!” 

She saw… of course she saw! Mirable was a master at stealth. To try and deceive her was a foolish act that could only benefit Freya if she was trying to look more guilty to the council when they hear about this. “It's not what it looks like, I swear!”

Screams grew more intense outside the walls, causing the borrowers to flinch back from the walls. Even Mirable let the stoic mask slip long enough for Freya to see fear in her brown eyes. “We must go!” She ordered her troops before shooting a frown at Freya. “You have a lot of explaining to do.”

[delta-orionis]

Tuesday Again No Problem 3/26/24

No I didn't wait until after midnight to write my Tuesdaypost, what are you talking about

Listening

I've had Tangerine Dream's 1983 album Hyperborea on loop for the better part of a week.

It's not too distracting, and it flows very well. Lately I've been putting it on when I need to think. This album plus my noise-cancelling headphones do a pretty good job of blocking out the sound of the world for a little while.

Watching

I've been binging old episodes of Well There's Your Problem again. I guess this technically counts as listening because I put it on while I crochet, but it's a podcast with slides so I'll put it in the watching section.

Episode 61 is a favorite of mine, it's funny and I'm pretty sure no one dies in this one.

Reading

I'm still slowly getting through Ancillary Justice; I'm almost done with chapter 4. I don't have much to say other than holy shit I'm glad I wrote down a list of characters as they appear, because there was no way I would be able to remember who any of these people were otherwise.

Playing

I played a bit more Rain World with my brother the other day. We're playing the Survivor campaign and made it to Shaded Citadel. Miraculously, neither of our slugpups have died yet. They are making our lives significantly harder, though, because they're two additional mouths to feed. However neither my brother or I have the heart to abandon them, lol.

Making

I think I'm finally satisfied with my Five Pebbles plush.

I made some wires and an umbilical cable for him, and attached them to his head and back. I was trying to imitate the way he looks in-game.

If I was really ambitious I could also make the mechanical arm he hangs from, but I don't think I have enough yarn for that. I'm satisfied with him and I'm ready to move on for now, maybe the arm could be something silly to make in the future.

I also started working on Looks to the Moon!

She's just a head right now, though. Moon is going to be similar to Pebbles, but I want to try and make her cloak look tattered. I'm going to look into ways I can deliberately crochet holes into it.

Kind of related to making... I've spent the better part of the last few days spiraling into madness while trying to figure out exactly how big Rain World's iterator superstructures are. It's turning out to be a more complicated question to answer than I thought.

My initial math was a HUGE overestimate, I think. I re-thought my strategy and spent most of my evening counting pixels on in-game sprites to try and get an idea of how big iterators are in relation to real-life buildings. I think my second estimate was more believable.

I'll make a more detailed post about it later, but here's a diagram I made for fun:

These back-of-the-envelope calculations are based largely on wild assumptions, and I could be completely wrong, who knows. But iterators being about 2km tall seems right to me. I don't really have good evidence for that other than vibes... I'll probably try to come up with something more concrete when I write the actual post.

__

That's all for now, I'll check back in next week. Thanks for reading!

[jeonghoneyss]

hi honey! teeth, poison, and tail for the dragon asks? <3

hi morgan! thanks for the ask! sorry it took me approximately a million years to get to it haha <3

Teeth: share a snippet that was difficult for you to nail down/required a lot of revisions.

Jeongin arrives with the rain. This is how it always has been, and how it always will be, going all the way back to when Minho was barely of a height with his grandfather’s year-old rosebushes and, searching for a lost kitten in the pelting rain, stumbled across a tiny boy positively contagious with watery light, and going all the way forward to when Minho will finally be able to pick Jeongin up and twirl him around in the rain, then hold him close underneath the rosebush, no shackles around Jeongin’s wrists, as their hands are tied together. This time, though, Jeongin arrives with the rain and Minho is outside, still clasping his cloak closed, hunting down all the chickens to make sure they’re all sheltering in their coop. It takes him some time to find the last one, speckled black-and-bronze Pebble, who’s always had a penchant for getting lost at inconvenient times (truth be told, she possesses an admirable trait for getting lost at convenient times, too).

This is from one of my jeongho wips, and it is causing me so much trouble. It's supposed to be the opening, and I've rewritten it three times already, and I hate it every single time.

Poison: share a snippet that’s all about relationships (good or bad).

Someone’s following him. Jeongin knows they are, as he goes about his tasks, waking up the mountain range, but he doesn’t say anything. He’s never looking to start a fight. ‘Hey,’ the person says, and he turns around and comes face to face with - He’s a big enough deal that even Jeongin’s heard about him. The youngest Winter to ever hold the reins, who wrested the Season from his predecessor and made it gentler. ‘You’re [what they call Jeongin],’ Winter says, in realisation. ‘And you’re Winter,’ Jeongin doesn’t say. ‘What are you doing?’ Winter asks, and Jeongin could cry. Of course Winter just came to berate him, just like everyone else. Didn’t even entertain the thought that maybe he wasn’t even doing anything bad, oh no.

This is from my. honestly I don't know. There's jeongho and they're spirits and Jeongin is a little weirdo. All the spirits hate him (well. That's what he thinks). They have an Interesting relationship because Minho (who is Winter) quite literally just wants to make friends with the flighty spirit who always flies away the second you say hello to him, and Jeongin thinks Everyone In The World Hates Him And Minho Is Being Nice To Trick Him. It's. quite the ride for both of them.

Tail: share a fluffy or cozy snippet.

Minghao is chopping some mango in the kitchen. Seungkwan walks in, and stares at the chopping board. ‘Oh, would you like some?’ Minghao asks, and puts a piece in Seungkwan’s hand. Seungkwan eats it without much aplomb, then sticks his hand out and says, imperiously, ‘AAA.’ ‘Oh, you want some more?’ And then Minghao is chopping mango as fast as he can, but barely any of it gets into the bowl because Seungkwan eats it all.

For some reason I struggled a lot with finding a snippet for this one. I'm not sure this is exactly fluffy or cosy, but here's a scene from my fantasy single parent accidental baby acquisition junhao. In this scene Seungkwan is like. 2. He's supposed to be 5 I think. I don't know what I was doing here. Mango <3

[servin-up-surveys]

survey #090

(taken december 15th last year; uploading surveys taken while gone)

Do you like pickles? I do, but only dill. There's another kind that some people use for burgers that is way too sweet.

What does your favorite shirt say about you? Currently, people probably correctly assume that I'm very much an advocate for equality (the shirt says "equal in our bones"), like skulls (features one), and am a supporter of Mark and Sean (Cloak is Markiplier and jacksepticeye's business). I am quite quite sure though that I'm getting a Rammstein shirt for Christmas (my mom is full aware that I am obsessed and it was one of the highest items on my list), and it's probably gonna be my new favorite or tied with the Cloak one, depending on how it fits probably.

Have you ever thought you could do a better job at being president? Than Trump? Yep, and that says A LOT because I hate politics and want NO position in the limelight, but a fucking toddler coulda done better than him. Any other president, no, I don't think so, at least not off the top of my head.

Best field trip experience? 5th grade, to the Asheboro Zoo. At that time they had meerkats and I thought I was going to pass out seeing them for the first (and so far only, sobs) time lmao.

How do you feel when you meet someone with the same music taste as you? It's exciting and I wanna know their favorite bands and songs, lol.

Is there anyone in your life who consistently angers you? My sister's husbands and really her in-laws in general.

If you have a job, who is your least favorite coworker/manager? Unemployed.

Favorite episode of Spongebob? Maaaan that's hard, Spongebob slaps. Maybe the pizza delivery one.

Do you have any silly/odd emotional connections to anything/anyone? The pebble I got for my "graduation" from the partial hospitalization program that changed my life. Everyone who was finishing the program was able to pick one from a jar, and it was meant to symbolize how stones go through such immense stress and pressure to become something shiny and beautiful. My classmates all held it in their hands as they told me goodbye and wished me well. I would break the fuck down if I lost that pebble, I'm seriously starting to tear up just talking about it. It's literally on this desk for me to see.

What bug frightens you most? Murder hornets lmfao. Stag beetles also seriously creep me out, but they look cool.

Are your parents supportive of you? Yes.

When was the last time you cried and why? Earlier today, a little bit. Ma and I drove to Wal-Mart to pick up a grocery order, and we passed by this clearly homeless woman that stays in this shopping center with some stuff in a cart. Mom sees her every time she passes. It is absolutely frigid and really rainy out today, and Mom decided to go to the Chick-fil-a across the street to get her food and a coffee. (I want to take a moment to add my mother helps out homeless people a lot with food and I think once even a drive somewhere, she is just so fucking generous.) I've been with her before when she's done stuff like this, but idk, this time just really fucking moved me and I started smiling so big and crying a bit as I watched her go over to the woman. This poor woman was keeping warm with some little candles lit in her cart, leaning over it. It just broke my heart so, so deeply. I'm crying now writing about it, I just wish this world was nicer to people. This world's an unfair nightmare.

How’s your week been? It's... actually been decent? I went up on a med recently and I've been notably more motivated and just happier.

When did you last eat pizza? [TW: EATING DISORDER MENTION/BEHAVIOR-ISH] Mom put a small one in the oven the other day when Girt was here. He didn't eat any though, he's stubborn as a mule about eating these healthy dinners he routinely orders, and he almost always brings one here when he visits. I have absolutely nothing whatsoever against him wanting to be healthy, but I still worry because this man is in perfectly healthy shape and is still convinced he needs to lose weight so sticks to them. He's very into the idea of losing I think like ten pounds and me, his family, and my mom are all like... you'd be underweight. And he once got pretty defensive about it with his sister, like he clearly believes he's not where he should be when he is, and I really do worry he has a degree of self-image issues he's never admitted to. Wow, this was a question about pizza lmao.

Are you currently frustrated with someone? No, not that I can think of.

Has anyone recently told you something you didn’t want to hear? Yeah; my (sadly, now former) therapist had to give up on getting me into pretty much the best mental health service in this area; she and the psychiatrist that worked with her/me were only ever meant to be temporary, and my visits are up with them/insurance won't cover any more, and the desired place was simply much too far behind on referals to get me in in time. I was real bummed. I've instead been accepted somewhere else that Mom doesn't like, but Samantha (old therapist) reassured her their mental health care was well-received, so we're trying it anyway. I don't have much of a choice. I was supposed to be settled with an official psych care team in MARCH right when I got out of the hospital. The year is ending.

What was the last thing you heated up in your microwave? Pizza rolls.

Were you born somewhere other than a hospital? Nope. Just a pretty wild fun fact though, the same doctor who delivered my sisters and me also delivered Ashley's kids, haha. ... I think? Maybe just one or two? He retired at some point.

Are you currently listening to music or watching TV? I'm listening to "Lydia" by Highly Suspect.

What was the last thing you watched on TV? The first two (or three?) episodes of 1899 w/ Girt. I actually really wanna watch more of it this weekend since he's staying with me, I am SO curious about the story.

When you go out drinking, what do you prefer to drink? A margarita or sangria. Something sweet that doesn't have a strong alcohol taste.

Do you prefer regular or electric toothbrushes? Electric.

Have you received any compliments about your appearance today? No, only my mom's seen me and I've got nothing special going on.

What is your favourite type of cat? ORIENTAL SHORTHAIRS!!!!! lil Dumbo alien cats <333333

What religion were you raised in? Are you still that religion, if you had one? Roman Catholicism, and hell fucking no. Even as a child it didn't sit right with me, but I "believed" because I didn't want to go to Hell. Teaching your children that's their fate if they don't believe in a magical, manipulative, imaginary cast is abuse, btw.

What religion/spiritual path intrigues you the most, if any? Pagan stuff, like Wicca, or even atheistic modern Satanism (do your research before you get any ideas). I personally don't hold any of these belief systems because I think they make us humans seem more important than we really are (to me we are literally but little specks in an infinite space, in a tiny snapshot of time, that gives no shits about us), but the idea of finding holiness and divinity in oneself is absolutely alluring.

How many members are there in your favorite band and which is your favorite member? Gotta be honest, the only band member I know in Ozzy's solo career that is still a part of it is himself, haha. But man I would pick Ozzy REGARDLESS of the others, lol. For Rammstein, there's six guys, and I pray to Richard Kruspe at night while also utterly adoring Ollie because we're actually very similar, at least from the things that are public about him. I love all of them though, they are SUCH characters and absolute goofs together.

What heritage does your last name imply? Irish.

Name a stereotype from your country/culture. Do you agree with it? North America thinks it owns the whole fucking world, and in general, I do feel like most Americans think that, that we're like the main protagonists in life's story. Hell no we're not lmao.

Do women breastfeeding in public make you feel uncomfortable? Why or why not? No, because guess what the fuck tits are for, and a hungry child should be fed when it's fucking hungry. I get HEATED about this topic. I'm that person that would genuinely sit with the woman if she was nervous to be a very willing guard dog, my shyness would be GONE.

In the last week, what’s the kindest thing that someone has done for you? Girt showing up with that squishmallow *and* his entire work schedule printed for the whole next year really meant a lot. ;__; The plush came from nowhere and he wanted me to have his work schedule just so I know where he is, what days are candidates for hanging out, etc. I did emphasize to him though that even on days he's off, if he doesn't wanna hang out and I ask, he better be honest about it because that is entirely fine, he's allowed to have personal time whenever he wants, and I do think he understood and is willing to do that, he's always been very honest.

What was the last kind of crisps you ate? Uhhhh crunchy hot Cheetos awhile back.

Do you think it is bad to have sex at your age? I am almost 27 bro, absolutely not.

Will you be having sex in the near future? To be entirely transparent probably because my mom is about to be out of state for almost a week, Girt is planning on staying with me so I'm not alone, and the only reason we HAVEN'T gone that far yet is because we both live with our moms right now and the idea of going that far with a mom like in the next room or something is Very Uncomfy lmao especially when I'm a virgin so I have zero idea how I'd react.

What is your ring tone? Something that came with the phone. It's always on vibrate, so I really don't even know what it is.

Have you ever phoned a sex hot line? ON GOD when my little sister, neighbor, and I had our prank call phase as kids, we once accidentally found one 😭

When was the last time you made friends with old enemies? I mean I guess when Rachel (Jason's ex/first real gf) reached out to me on Facebook and we became friends. She hated my guts in high school because first Juan wanted me instead of her (I STILL don't know if they ever actually dated or what the hell they had going on), and then I dated Jason so apparently I "had a thing for her leftovers." She once even threatened to punch me and once aggressively snatched my arm during lunch to pull me in and tell me something that resulted in me leaving Juan (which ultimately was a blessing in disguise for sure). We're totally cool now though, she was a boy-crazy teenager with an attitude, but now we'll sometimes like comment on each others stuff, react, yada yada, we're cool. She grew up, and so did I. She actually recently got married to one of my former classmates, I even almost WENT to the wedding (via public invite to FB friends) but decided I didn't care THAT much, lol.

Is there something that someone has done to you that you cannot forgive? Invalidate my trauma.

Do you find body hair sexy? Depends, I guess. I THINK I'm more attracted to less but idk.

Who was the last person in your bed other then yourself? Besides my cat, Girt.

Has anyone ever drunk called/texted you? I don't think so?

What is your current MySpace song? Ancient survey, but I DO remember it was fucking "Pocketful of Sunshine" lmfao

Can you do a backwards london bridges? God no, even when I was fit I couldn't bend back and do it. I could lay DOWN on the ground and push myself up to do it, but that's it.

Are any of your pets “overweight”? No. A vet said Cookie could lose a little bit of weight and be perfect, but she's not considered overweight either.

Has anyone ever bought you a ring? My mom has, as well as Jason. I ended up losing the one mom got me down the sink (was not happy, it was really pretty), and the one Jason got, the gem actually came off really quickly and I kept it and the ring itself in a treasure box for a while, but not anymore.

Name three of your favorite colors: Light pink, coral, and hot/neon pink. Basically, PINKS lmao.

Have you ever been baptized? I was as a baby, yeah. Wish I'd made it boil. :^)

Have you been circumcised? I'm a cis female so have not been in this situation.

Would you circumcise your son? This is a decision that I would mostly leave to Girt. Being naturally a woman I simply can't properly relate to/fathom this topic. From the perspective I DO have from what I *can* understand, I'd absolutely want my son to have ease of staying clean, and I also would never want him bullied (not that I'd want or expect my kid to share this information with pretty much anyone), but at the same time, genital mutilation is not fucking cool. I have zero idea what anesthetics (if any) they use or ANYTHING, so I'd have to research this topic more and get input from the dad.

[TW: RAPE/MOLESTATION] Have you ever been raped or molested? Not to my memory, though so many docs by now have asked me, and it's been brought up before that I might have SOME sort of repressed memory because of so, so many signs. I genuinely don't think I have been, like I remember NOTHING, but who the hell knows. I had two boys in pre-k that absolutely harassed me (I've talked about this recently so not doing it again), but I wouldn't call it anything more than that, I think.

Have you ever been sick on your birthday? Hm not quite, at least I don't think so. I do remember I was RECOVERING from a stomach bug one year; I didn't feel wonderful, but we went to dinner at Olive Garden, and at this time Jason worked there and got them to do the whole "happy birthday" singing thing.

Have you ever tried to poison someone? Uh NO??????????

Have you ever saved anyone from a fire? I've never been in this situation, and hopefully I absolutely never will be.

Have you ever had a seizure? No, but I pretty much constantly felt on the verge of having one when I was on the med that made me manic, and at one point I came VERY near to going to the ER because my body was just violently, and I mean violently, seizing at very short, random intervals. I was entirely convinced I was about to have a seizure, but thankfully I fell asleep after being awake for three straight days. Stopped the med the next morning.

Have you ever had pneumonia? No.

Have you ever had a tooth knocked out? I had some molars broken when I fainted onto my chin on the bathroom floor.

Have you had a menstrual period? I'm a cis female so yes, I've had one since I was like, 13-ish. I actually asked Ma when I started today bc we were talking about how one of my nieces is nearly old enough to start and I wanted to pass away right then and there, on god. She is NOT allowed to hit puberty ok.

Have you ever had kidney stones? No.

Have you ever been bitten by a venomous animal? No.

Have you ever been pregnant? No, and I better never be.

Have you ever been sedated or put under anesthesia? Yeah, to get my cyst removed. Best sleep of my life lmfao

Have you ever used shrooms or any other hallucinogen? Nah.

[writingsofwesteros]

I don't know if I'm the only one but Viserys is one of my absolute hate characters. That's why I got something like this from your second born line. Y/N is always ignored by her father. She keeps trying to get his attention, but she can't. Daemon, who loves his niece more than only uncle and niece should, simply takes her on a journey. Where they get married and Y/N even gets pregnant. If 18+ is possible

AN: Hi, I hope you like it 

NSFW

Requests are closed

As the years passed; it became obvious that your father hardly ever thought or paid attention to you. You weren’t sure of the reason and you hated yourself at how much you desired to be seen by him. Your older sister never had to fight for any attention; both of your parents adored her and there was no love left for you.

Well, there was but they chose not to share it. They were waiting for a boy to give all their love and attention towards. Even as you knew all of this; you still tried to help and waited for the scraps of love you could receive. And sometimes they came, like now, as your father motioned you over.

When it was just the two of you anyway. “Father.” You whispered, moving to curtsy. “Y/N..” Viserys nodded formally. You nervously played with your fingers behind your back as his attention was on you now. “It seems your uncle is making a nuisance of himself. Take this letter to him.” Your King ordered.

Of course, he only spoke to you when there was need. It wasn’t a secret that you and Daemon shared a bond; his softness was only for you. There were rumours of something else between the two of you, and you wondered if your father believed them. “Of course.” You found yourself speaking and you gently took the letter from your father.

And then just like that; Viserys left you. You held back the reaction, not wanting to give him the satisfaction as your eyes followed him. It didn’t stop you from ducking your head for a moment and trying to collect yourself. A soft tear fell from your eyes as you wrapped your own arms around yourself. It was something you had good practice with now. A moment later you looked down at the letter with curiosity but fought against opening it. You looked out into the dark sky and realised where your uncle was going to be. A place you knew your father would know and still asked you to go. A scoff fell from you at the thought.

~

The moans of pleasure echoed around you as you kept the black, velvet cloak and hood around yourself; concealing your identity as you moved through. It wasn’t hard to find the Prince of the realm as you followed the talk. The soft silk dress underneath the cloak had your soft body humming at the feel of the material moving over you. Your soft nipples pebbled against the dress as you moved closer to the viewing platform. You nearly whimpered at the sight of Daemon behind an equally beautiful woman and his body moved. Her moans were loud and you hated the jealousy moving through you. Thankfully, you weren’t the only one affected.

Your eyes trailed his body and realised no matter the age; his body was so lean and muscular. The dragon riding must do him good, you thought as he finally moved from her and you softly gasped at the sight of his still hard cock. Subtly, your legs rubbed together as a flood of desire moved through you. Gods, this was so wrong, you thought to yourself as the gaggle of girls slowly disappeared once the show was over. But you couldn’t stop watching as he placed a silk robe around himself and you grew disappointed. You tried to remind yourself you were here for a reason and you moved easily into the room.

“Uncle..” You softly called out, near breathless as you gracefully stepped into the room. The cloak flowing behind you. “Y/N…” Daemon’s head snapped to you; shock moved over his face. “What are you doing here?” His precious Princess shouldn’t be in such an establishment, Daemon thought to himself. Those eyes of his moved over your body and for a moment you struggled to speak. Daemon smirked as he stepped closer; your body gently hitting the body. “Have you been watching, sweet Princess?” He purred into your ear as a soft gasp escaped you at being caught. “No..” You shook your head.

You knew more teasing was coming your way and decided on distracting your dragon. “The King wanted you to have this.” You whispered, gently placing the letter in his hands as he stayed impossible close to you. “Hmm, a little messenger now, are you?” Daemon hummed and began to open the paper. You tried to collect yourself; still leaning against the wall as you watched his reaction. Your uncle’s face moved to a mask as he read what was in front of him. “Is something wrong?” You whispered out. A beat of silence moved past you as Daemon moved to burn the letter on a candle at the side of him.

Your face screwed up in confusion. “My brother is exiling me.” Daemon announced. Your soft gasp escaped you before you could stop it. “No..he wouldn’t do that.” You began to babble and shake your head. He gently leaned in and cupped your face with both hands; your matching eyes locking. “He just has.” Daemon softly stroked your cheek and his thumb moved over your bottom lip. It was then that you remembered he was still naked as his open robe gave you a sight. “You should get dressed.” You whispered and kept your hands down your sides even as they twitched. 

“Should I?” Daemon hummed and his bare chest soon brushed against your. “Someone could see.” You whispered and your eyes moved towards the viewing platform you had just come from. “It’s true…but I don’t see you moving away.” The Prince purred and his hands moved up your sides.

“I thought as much.” He continued to whisper into your ear as his hands moved up your sides, taking your dress with him. “Turn around.” Daemon ordered and you couldn’t help but whimper. Your lips parted and he only raised an eyebrow before you turned away. Your identity would be safe; for now.

“Daemon..” You softly whispered when your dress was bunched at your waist. The cool evening air moved through the room and onto you. “You don’t want this? Want me?” He purred into your ear and you heard the robe fall to his feet. Your eyes widened as his hand snaked around your stomach. Your legs shook as your hand moved to the wall and his free hand joined you. “Good girl.” He whispered and soon his larger hand cupped your soaked pussy. His slender fingers slowly  moved through your folds, teasing your clit. “Please.” You hardly knew what you were begging for now.

“Hmm, I guess I should help.” Daemon purred as two of his slender fingers slipped inside of you. “Oh..gods..” You cried out as your soaked walls instantly tightened around him. “Fuck, Y/N..” He whispered, hotly mouthing at your neck. His fingers curled expertly and found a spot you could never reach. “There you go.” Gods, he really liked the sound of his own voice, you thought but your mind quickly became hazy. Which was Daemon’s plan all along as he played you so well. His precious Princess was his; you always had. Your soaked walls fluttered around him as Daemon cheekily added a third finger.

His free hand moved from yours and into your locks as he pulled. “So pretty.” Daemon whispered sweet nothings into your ear. “Will you come with me?” The Prince whispered into your ear again. “I can’t…” You whimpered out, your stomach already tightening in pleasure as he continued to play with you. “Hmm, no?” He pouted and his fingers quickened; his palm hitting your clit again and again. You couldn’t answer back now. You leaned more into the wall as soft moans escaped you. Your cries of pleasure become louder. Daemon couldn’t concentrate anymore as he slowed his fingers before gently removing them.

“No..” You softly gasped and looked over your shoulder but it wasn’t long before Daemon was pushing his hard cock inside you. Your eyes widened as his thickness stretched you so deliciously; the pain fading to pleasure. “Fuck.” Daemon nearly growled into your ear as your face pressed against the wall. His hand snaked around you once more and quickly rubbed at your soaked pussy. The pleasure quickly became too much. Daemon hotly mouthed at your neck; marking you as your climax ripped through you. You squirted around his cock as he continued to fuck you. “Come away with me.” He purred and you had no strength of will to say no now.

~

The news of you running away with your uncle spread like wildfire through the court with many not surprised. Your father being one of them; it had been his plan all along when he gave you the letter. The contents of it would only be for him and his brother to ever know. And as the months passed; an invitation to their wedding came across his small council. He didn’t attend and neither did Rhaenyra. And when the news came of his daughter’s pregnancy and birth of a son; Viserys mourned what could of been for the first time since he felt the disappointment of a second daughter who should of been a son. 

“I love you.” Daemon whispered into your ear as his hands rested on your stomach; swollen with another child. “I love you too.” Your lips met and your fingers moved into his locks before you looked back at Dragonstone; your home and all was well.

TAGLIST

@janelongxox

@writerslove2403

@severewobblerlightdragon 

@lettherebrelight 

@heartysworld

@opheliax98

@bshelley322 

@casualheartadorable 

@kittycatcait219 @lilyviolets

@multifndom @7minutes-tomidnight

@savage-aespa 

@thekayarlene 

@sandronebabyy 

@ivanna6026 

@bubblebuttwade

@rosesinmars

@believeinthefireflies95

@kid-from-new-zealand

[waking-dreams-of-harmony]

The Last Dragon

Below the read more I've posted 7 very small sections of a fic that is based on this beautiful and tragic fanvid. I got literal chills watching it. If you wanna sob over our queen and her son wanting to avenge his mother, give it a watch.

I don't think I'll ever go any further, as my writing had an unfortunate run in with a brick wall, which then toppled over it and crushed any urge to write the next bit.

It's not too terrible--though it could actually be total shit, I'm not known for my writing 😂--and it was just gonna gather dust on my laptop, so figured I might as well post it. This was one of my ways of dealing with that fucked up last season within the framework of the show. I dont believe this is Dany's end, and I loathe with every fiber of my being what happened to her and her found family. And after seeing that video, the idea of Drogon doing everything he could to avenge the mother he loved more than anything appealed to that anger inside me. So I'll understand if this isnt for everyone ❤

Chapter 1

Mother.

He flies, great black wings carrying them away.

Mother.

Sharp, massive claws curl in gently. Protectively.

Mother is gone.

The cold creeps, burning against his scales the way fire never has.

Mother don’t leave.

A whisper on the wind calls to him.

Mother it hurts.

East, it sighs. It smells of smoke, and fire. Hope.

He follows, wings beating faster.

They took you.

The rage flares, searing away the cold.

They killed you.

The heat of it bursts within him, scaled skin shaking with the strength of it.

Fire and blood.

Jaws stretch wide, and the air burns red with grief.

▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪

Chapter 2

The sky bleeds red from the dying sun when Drogon reaches Volantis. The whisper that drew him there stops as he lands on an open balcony.

A woman stands before him, black hair and red robes flying up in the gust of wind from his wings. His claw gently opens, Mother’s cold body slowly sliding onto the hard stone.

Crimson, mournful eyes watch the red woman kneel by Mother, pale fingers hovering over her, not touching, for a long moment.

“I cannot bring her back, Drogon,” she murmurs, regretful.

He throws his head back, bellows fury and sadness into the sky. No, Mother, come back. I am alone.

A faint brush at the back of his mind--where Mother used to be, his brothers, the thoughts they shared together--grasps his attention. Makes him look back down at the red woman.

“I cannot give you back Daenerys Targaryen, but I can give you something else.”

His nostrils flair, and his head moves closer.

“I can give you the revenge you desire. As it stands, you may be able to raze the whole of the Seven Kingdoms, turn it all to ash, but that would not be what your mother wanted.”

Drogon growls, lips pulled up in a snarl. Sheep. All are sheep. Betrayed Mother. Killed Mother. No mercy.

She nods her head. Comprehends what he is unable to say out loud.

“Yes, they all betrayed Daenerys, took from her and killed her when her visions grew too great for their small minds. They could not grasp that the Mother of Dragons was above all a breaker of chains. She would have freed us all.”

She pauses, then continues, her voice hard. “They need to be punished. And they will be. But Daenerys’ dreams must be realized. Dragon’s Bay must remain free. The Dothraki cannot return to what they were, raping and pillaging. And the petty lords of Westeros must be laid low. Those who destroyed Daenerys must see their reigns come to an end not only by dragon fire, but by the unification of the people they have ground into the dust, unified against them.”

“A dragon has the power to do great things, but to lead men, to lead armies, that is the one thing you cannot do, Drogon. Not as you are. You must be more. And by the Lord of Light’s grace, you can become exactly what the people need.”

Drogon rumbles in frustration, steam billowing from between his sharp, clenched teeth. He doesn’t understand.

“Human, Drogon. You must become human.”

▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪

Chapter 3

They take Mother, to clean her, he is told. Remove the dagger, her clothes. Wash the blood away.

The red woman directs him to fly from the balcony, down into an open courtyard below. A large fire pit rages with a towering flame. It warms him, feels like Mother’s hand caressing his scales.

Dragons cannot cry. A mournful moan makes his great neck tremble. Human. Perhaps he can cry when he is human.

People in red robes enter the courtyard, one after another, until they circle around Drogon. His tail twitches. Their closeness agitates him.

The red woman appears, crossing the circle to stand in front of the fire. Hatred fills him when he sees what is in her hands. The dagger stained with Mother’s blood. Coward. The coward’s dagger.

“I am sorry Drogon. It is a necessary piece of the ritual. Soon,” she soothes, “you will have all you need to begin your campaign against the traitors.”

Another voice brushes against that same place in his mind. That lonely place where Mother, Rhaegal, and Viserion once lived. Soon, it too promises.

The red woman turns her head, scans the other acolytes before catching Drogon’s eyes.

“Let us begin.”

Voices hum together in chant, and the sky is filled with an agonized roar.

▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪

Chapter 4

Drogon.

He groans.

Drogon, my love.

Everything hurts.

You cannot sleep forever, my beautiful boy.

He moves his head slightly. Cringes at the sharp pain.

Wake up, Drogon.

Mother? Why does everything hurt so much?

It’s time.

The voice begins to fade. He reaches out a hand, slowly, to make it stay, and freezes. He has a hand. A human hand.

Fingers curl into his palm, and the nails scratch against his skin, bite into it. His legs scrape against the stone as he slowly stretches out one, then the other.

He can still feel the fire to the side of him; it feels heavier, pressing on his skin but it does not hurt his flesh.

What burns more painfully is the missing weight of his wings. No flight for him now.

Cold fingers brush his shoulder, curve sharply to hold him when he recoils.

“Drogon?”

He doesn’t like to be held, or touched, no one but Mother, and his brothers, but they are gone. Gone, gone, gone…

“Drogon! It is only me, Kinvara!” The voice finally penetrates, and he stops pulling away.

Allowing for her help, he rolls carefully onto his back. Sharp pebbles dig into his skin. No scales to protect him anymore.

He feels her fingers move to his face, tracing the human features. “Open your eyes Drogon. See what the Lord of Light has gifted to you.”

Gift? No gift. Just more pain. Weakness. But he opens his eyes. The fire from the pit is soothing, warm. Warmer than...before. Would it burn him? His hand flinches towards it but he’s not close enough to touch.

He turns his eyes toward Kinvara. She is smiling, eyes reflecting the fire’s light.

She waves a hand towards an acolyte. “Bring me a robe. We must cover our dragon prince.”

Red cloth is laid over him, and two other acolytes help Drogon to sit. They hold him up as the other wraps the robe around him more securely.

Drogon grits his teeth, blood rushing angry and hot.

He tries to talk, mouth struggling to form the human words. “W-We—” He growls, tries again. “W-Weak.”

“For now,” she says. “But you will grow stronger, I promise you.”

Drogon struggles to stay awake, but bone deep exhaustion pulls at him, and his frustration wanes as he slips into slumber.

▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪

Chapter 5

Four moons pass before Drogon is ready to set sail for Meereen. He was like a hatchling again, unsteady, vulnerable, and he hated it. Kinvara and her priests taught him the ways of his new body, how to eat and walk, to read their words.

Coarse fabric to wear instead of steely scales.

But now it is time. Time to search out Grey Worm. Daario. The Unsullied and Dothraki. Train with them and become stronger. Much stronger.

He knew how to fight as a dragon. Armies and castles were nothing against the heat of his fire. He must learn how to wage war as humans do.

Wrapped in a red cloak, hood hanging low over his face, Drogon is ready to begin.

▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪

Chapter 6

They are waiting for him at the dock after the sun has set, Grey Worm and Mother’s sellsword, two silent figures who do not move, do not speak until Drogon stands before them.

Daario breaks the silence first. “Drogon?”

He pulls back his hood, unnaturally crimson eyes in a human face flashing in the near dark.

Daario sucks in a breath, then huffs out a laugh. “If the red priests had not sent word ahead, I may not have believed it. But by the gods, here you stand.” He reaches out an arm for Drogon to clasp.

He does so, hesitantly, but with a firm grip. Human greetings still puzzle him.

Grey Worm steps closer then kneels, bows his head bowed, fist pressed against his chest. “Ñuha dārilaros. Bisy qringaomatan īlva dāria. Īlon emagon ossēntan se nāpāstre skoriot pōnta iōrtan (My prince. This one failed our Queen. We should have killed the traitors where they stood.).”

Drogon does not know if he is asking for forgiveness or absolution.

Dragons have no real concept of forgiveness. He should be angry the traitors were allowed to live. But Grey Worm is kin, as the little scribe had been. Mother’s old bear too, and the white-haired knight. Everyone who had been under Mother’s protection, had been under her children’s protection as well. And would continue to be.

“Rise, Grey Worm.” His voice is rough and sharp edged, and it seems to startle the two men to hear him speak. “Those that hurt Mother, that used her and took her life will be punished as they deserve. But I need your help. So rise. Let us repay them with fire and blood. For Mother. For Missandei. For them all.”

He holds out a hand, waits.

Grey Worm looks up, eyes bright with unshed tears. His lips tremble, then firm. He takes Drogon’s hand.

▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪

Chapter 7

They convene in Mother’s chambers, the map room he would never have been able to fit in before almost cavernous to him now.

Spread out around the table, the three men pull together a plan as they look down at the map.

First, they will weed out the opposition in Essos, solidify their hold in the east. Astapor, Yunkai, they will all come to heel, every slave freed. They would be as clever as Mother had been, keep the number of innocents lost as low as they could. Drogon would prefer to burn through the Good Masters, snap them up and tear them apart, but for Mother, he would be patient, and take the slower path. All the slavers would still die, and their victims would live, and live free.

But for what Drogon had planned, he needed steel in place of claws, armor instead of dragonhide. He needed Grey Worm and Daario to make him as fearsome as a human as he’d been as a dragon. And that would take time.

He ground his blunted teeth together; he hated waiting. Hated it. But let the traitors think they were safe for a while longer. It would be all the sweeter when he ripped that feeling of safety away, just as they ripped Mother away from him. His brothers. His home.

They would feel his pain. And then they would feel nothing at all.

[sleepyowlwrites]

find the word tag CCXXXXV

a double feature presented by Sounding and I hope I can find them in the docs I have open because I don't really want to open any more. @diphthongsfordays

ink (from: yearnings of a writer, 2012)

I wish I could write about moths. Their delicate, fluttering wings dipped in ink would make beautiful art.

idea (summon story supplemental)

“You will kill for me and I will kill for you. But only one life.” She had pointed to the terms in the array, linked to the summoning by her own blood.

The shidha had considered her with something like mockery, something like pity. “One life,” it echoed, the pleasure of the idea slithering out of its form palpably. “Bleed on it, then.”

She had placed a bloody palm to the earth and signed her name. The shidha did the same. Their hands met in a touch of dirt and death. It burned.

imagine (from: technically that's how you write a song, 2020)

A poem given music to change the pace of sound Clipped wings complaining that they’d just like to sing now Did you see me on the offbeat? Did you catch when I fell flat? I used to joke about parades I saw you on the stage You are a star, imagine that

impatient (hell in a handbasket, 2021)

The boy’s mother joins them and inspects the basket. “Sealed with ocher and blood sap?”

“From dead pines,” the demon says proudly. “Mixed it myself.”

“I’ll give you a half-dozen cockatrice feathers and mend your cloak with spider thread. And you can stay for dinner.”

The demon wilts a little. “I really do need the blood.”

“Fine, I’ll bleed a couple drops into your soup,” the boys says impatiently. “Is that okay, Ma?”

impact

empty (summon story d0)

“Hey, is this your first death?”

“First-” Dair said in a wobbly voice. He took a breath. “Uh. Yes.”

“Oh! A first time ritual participant!” Zan waggled his eyebrows at Shae, who only slightly rolled her eyes in response. “How exciting.”

“I’ve participated in rituals.” Dair said it very quickly, bunching the words together so Zan had to process them for a few extra seconds before he understood them.

Shae dropped the empty bag at Zan’s feet and scooped up the pebbles. “Are you going to help at all?” But when Zan opened his mouth, Shae just looked meaningfully at Dair instead of the array and Zan wanted to kick her. It would have messed up the ashes and he refrained, reluctantly.

echo (from: on a hill, still, 2021)

The church bell intones without notes, your own a throbbing echo like a shadow without a sun. The hour turns over and the song has still not begun. It has no singer, no self, no place to stand. You lie down and wait for the aching to subside. But you are played, and played out, and you forget that you died.

etch (from: dream, 2011)

It was an etched heart Piercing song of oak Just to show the girl How tenderly he spoke It was a fading light Gave way to mist's rare gleam In marshes thick or valley rich My savoring, my dream

energy (trans-dimensional ghosts, 2016)

“Why is it not good?” Terence asked like he didn't want to know the answer.

“Because,” Caden answered reluctantly. “It means that either intentionally or not, the ghost is drawing out your life energy and eventually-”

“It’ll kill me.” Terence said it point blank.

“Yeah.”

“Well.” Terence bit down on his lip.

enter (from: but I don't have the words, 2021)

I don’t have the words.

limitless, really, are the options here. I have every color from which to choose and a million moments to reflect on and move into the spotlight and explain precisely what I mean when I open up my tiny fists and place my train cars down. this track, for instance. I know where it goes. or that one. I see where it’s been. and the newest one, over here? it runs through the tunnel under the mountain where only dragons dare enter.

it's fun to put my old poetry in this tags, because I'm not going to share them otherwise (mostly). stop, end, turn, aside, bend. BONUS: detour, track. @ren-c-leyn @nikkywrites @oh-no-another-idea @vellichor-virgo @myhusbandsasemni @writting-in-blood OR ANYBODY or nobody

[4kyl0]

ache.

part ii.

pairing: ben solo x reader

summary: it had been one long grueling year since you last saw ben solo. during that period, you joined the resistance. ben on the other hand, was still the fearless supreme leader of the first order, kylo ren. now, an odd calling lead him back to varykino; revealing secrets and memories that were “meant” to stay hidden. (takes place in the midst of tros)

rating: sfw. more angst than fluff this time.

word count: 1.9k

a/n: sorry for the long wait! i’m finishing up school at the moment :)

“Supreme Leader, you cant just leave—”

“Enough.”

"A war is happening—"

"And your men will finish it." Kylo practically snarled, turning to the uptight general behind him.

Hux grew quiet, glaring daggers at him."Might I ask where you're going, Supreme Leader?" he spat, his lip quivering in anger.

"I'm not obligated to tell you about my whereabouts," Kylo was quick to retort. He felt as if his stomach were in knots.

Varykino had been calling him. He dreamt about it night after night, its memory prodding at the back of his mind everyday. He was unsure what it meant, but he would not rest until he understood. His stomach lurched if he even thought about acting on it. He wondered aimlessly if you were still there. Still alive and well. But he shielded those thoughts away, diminishing all feelings with it.

"I'll be gone for a week or less. nothing more. I expect full reports on everything when I return, General Hux," his modulated voice broke the uneasy silence between the two. Before Hux could respond, Kylo stormed off, his boots echoing throughout Starkiller Base.

***

You had left. Which was even more nerve wracking. The lake retreat was caked with dust, a few cracks in the foundation here and there. Only a year had passed, yet it was falling apart.

Kylo stopped in front of the villa. The pull was stronger than it was ever before. He didn't know why, but he took his leather gloves off, starting to walk towards the entrance now. Taking one of his calloused hands, he dragged it softly against one of the smooth, but cracked, walls. A sudden urge made him come to a halt once more.

Turning his gaze to the wall, the cracks glowed a vibrant light blue. His breath caught in his throat. A force essence, he thought. He had encountered a few before, when he was a padawan. But he never sought them out. What surprised him was that he had never seen one so luminous like now. Inhaling and exhaling deeply, he placed his hands on the crack, feeling him slip out of reality.

"I saw my mother," a young man spoke, his appearance showing that he was a Jedi padawan. "She is suffering badly," he added, turning to a woman behind him. she was young, like him. She had curly brown hair passing shoulder length. It looked like she was wearing a night gown and robe.

"I saw her as clearly as I see you now," he breathed, continuing to hold gaze with the woman. Lingering far too long, he turned his back to her again, walking a few steps forward. A sigh escaped him, "She is in pain." He turned to the woman once more, "I know I'm disobeying my mandate to protect you senator, but I have to go," the young padawan fretted, now taking a few steps towards the woman. "I have to help her." he whimpered, trembling a little.

She locked eyes with him, the emotion that had plastered itself on her face was unreadable. She hadn't spoke a word.

"I'll go with you," she assured; her voice smooth and calm.

"I'm sorry, I don't have a choice—"

Gasping, Kylo pushed off the wall harshly. His mind was spiraling. Who are they? He wondered, the two felt oddly familiar. He didn't know how exactly, neither his mother or father ever mention such people. He huffed, clenching is fists into tight balls. Eventually calming down, he continued to explore the what was once a grand lake house.

After what felt like days of searching out for anything, Kylo made it to the balcony; the last place he ever saw you. The memory felt fresh, as if it happened yesterday. Thinking of you made his shoulders sag, a huff passing through his lips. Even if you were upset, you were still beautiful. No, he thought, you hurt her. Sighing, the cloaked knight walked to the edge of the balcony, looking out on the view. It felt more dull; as if the scenery had lost an ounce of the bright colors it once had.

A flash of blue caught his eye. Turning his head, he saw a deep crack along the stone rail, the glow erupting from it more vibrant than ever. Like before, he took a deep breath, and let it go slowly. Lifting his hand, he placed it on top of the fracture, closing his eyes.

"I don't like sand." it was the padawan again, the woman from before beside him as well. "It's course and ruff and irritating—" he proceeded to fidget with stray pebbles along the rail "—and it gets everywhere." Dropping the pebbles, the young padawan looked out, "not like here, here everything is soft," his gaze averted to the senator. He bit his lip, hesitant, "and smooth." his hand rubbed against her own, and  moved up her back. The young woman turned to look at him. They stared at each other quietly, the padawan even smiling a little.

Ever so slowly, he inched closer to her, their eyes still locked on each other. Closing the distance, they kissed. It was passionate, as if the two had longed for one another. As quickly as it happened, the senator pulled away, "no." she gasped, "I shouldn't have done that," she avoided his gaze.

"I'm sorry," he broke the short lived awkward silence. He lifted his head up, his eyes searching to look at anything but her. They both looked pained.

Yanking his hand from the stone rail, Kylo shuddered. The scene replayed in his head over and over again, making him groan aloud. I shouldn't have come here, his mind was buzzing, it was a mistake. Collecting himself, the cloaked knight let out a frustrated groan. It wasn't clear to what the Force was trying to tell him, but he didn't want to know either. For all he knew, it seemed like a distraught couple's spirits wallowing in the vacant structure. Yet, he felt strangely connected to them.

Turning around, Kylo took one step before going still. A signature in the Force practically knocked him off of his feet. It felt familiar; but it was strong, and not budging. Sucking air in through his nose and out, he clutched at his lightsaber, planting his feet firmly on the ground.

"You're quite loud," his modulated voice taunted, "projecting yourself? You lack of stealth and common sense." He closed his eyes, focusing on his surroundings through the Force.

As a twig snapped beside him, Kylo was quick to unsheathe his saber, pointing it intimidatingly at the shaded figure. He smirked, "come out into the light."

Complying, the figure walked out of the shadows, revealing you pointing a blaster at his chest.

His breath hitched, and his shoulders became more tense by the second. You changed; drastically so. You no longer wore fine dresses and headbands, in place of them was a leather jacket and combat boots. Your eyes failed to hold the brightness it once obtained; they were dull, and glassy.

"What are you doing here?" you barked, your tone low and harsh.

"I could ask you the same thing," Kylo retorted, his voice holding no emotion.

The both of you stood in silence, observing each other. It had only been a year, yet it felt like a thousand. Seeing you only brought back the feeling of being touch starved, and how much he craved intimacy with you. But things were different now, he knew he shouldn't feel this way.

"I see you haven't changed," your voice broke through the quiet. He didn't respond. "Still wearing that ridiculous helmet, too. I must say, you added flare to it with the little red streaks."

Oh, you were teasing him now. Anger bubbled up in his stomach, but he refused to lash out. He didn't want to scare you, but that angered him even more. He should feel the need to lash out at you, make you realize how miserable you made him felt.

Kylo huffed, "And I see that you've changed." Lowering his gaze, he practically growled. The Resistance symbol had been embroidered on the sleeve of your jacket, "a Resistance fighter."

You paused; your facial expression morphing into sadness. Your gaze flickered to him and the lake. You were nervous.

"Ben—" you hesitated, but continued, "she misses you," you mumbled. "I miss you," you managed to make eye contact with him as you spoke those words, even through his helmet.

Kylo hadn't noticed he stopped breathing. Ben, he thought; as if he had almost forgotten it. Ever since he had fought with you, the mere mention of his actual name made him nauseous. How much hurt was prominent in your voice when you cried it. How you were drowning in your own tears that day. He shivered.

"Her son—" he faltered as you did before,"—is dead." He felt like he was reciting a poem. "He was weak and foolish," his deep voice bellowed throughout the retreat, "so I killed him."

Your bottom lip quivered as your eyes glossed over. Returning your blaster to your holster, you slowly walked over to Kylo, now having to crane your neck to look up at him. His eyes darted to where his lightsaber should be, but it was on the floor, the intimidating red spark that once flared now dead.

"No," you shook your head, your hands reaching for the sides of his helmet. He didn't stop you, "he's not dead." With a hiss, you pulled the clunky piece of metal off of his head, tossing it to the far end of the balcony. As Ben's dark curls fell to frame his face, his gaze never left yours.

You held back a gasp. He was still unbelievably beautiful, even more so. "If anything, Ben Solo is alive, and he wants to be free," you proclaimed in a hushed tone, holding his face in your small hands.

Ben started to breathe harder and harder, the proximity of how close your faces were to each other caused you to feel the little puffs of air exit through his nose as he did so. He missed this. How you held his face, how you kissed him, how you embraced him. He could feel his face grow hot.

“Come with me,” you breathed, your eyes now half-lidded. “Please,” your voice dripped with longing.

“I—” the sound of an X-Wing flying by cut Ben off. Snapping his head up to the sky, he saw the orange paint streaked across the craft. His heart dropped to his stomach. “You called them here,” he snarled, his gaze returning to yours. All color had drained from your face.

“Ben—”

Holding his hand out to where his helmet was thrown, it instantly flew back in his palm. Yanking it over his head, he snatched his lightsaber from the ground. “If you follow me, I won’t hesitate to split you in half,” he fumed, now stomping away from the balcony.

There you stood. Shocked and hurt. Alone. Your bottom lip quivered, but you refused to recognize it.

Resistance fighters came piling in the broken structure, scouting the premises for Kylo Ren.

“Where did he go? Did you see him? Are you okay?” one asked, squeezing your shoulder softly.

You paused, in thought, “No,” you answered, all emotion vacant from your voice. “No, I didn’t see him.”

tag list:

@crazynocturnalkiki @star-marvel-fangirl @kiaoizz @reddieisrealbitches @jiminie-slytherin @moonprincess003 @heda-mikaelson

[milkiijustwrites]

Raffle prize 1

Medieval fantasy AU Scenario+dragon tamer hajime hinata+ forest spirit reader

For @generous1ty

❗ Fluff ❗

❗Droplet/Waterfall❗

❗1st place winner prize❗

Hope you enjoy ! ^^

A smell of something burning spread through the forest, it was a sunny day that day, hajime was seen sitting down on a rock, fire appeared on his hands, but both of his eyes were shut closed, the fire was getting bigger and bigger ,almost touching the tree beside him. With the smell of smoke, hajime opened his eyes wide and the fire was soon disappeared with a simple flick.

Hajime was bored, he could do nothing in a day like this, the only thing he had done for today was just sitting on this specific rock and play with his fire magic. He rubbed his eyes and decided to wash out the sleepiness off.

He walked towards a nearby pond and bend down to get closer to the pond. His reflection appeared on the pond. Brown haired with olive green eyes. Wearing an armour made out of thick leather as he wears a cloak on top of it as well. the tip of a sharp sword was also seen behind his cloak.

Hajime yawned as he poured some water towards his face multiple times to keep him awake.

Suddenly, something crawled behind hajime and jumped onto him! Hajime was pushed over by a certain something and as felt some sticky liquid on his face. He opened his eyes and saw a dragon licking on him!

It was klik The dragon! Hajime smiled when he figured out it was him. Hajime trained klik For a long time and they eventually became buddy partners. They will be sticking together wherever they go for an adventure.

After getting dragon saliva all over his face, hajime had to wash his face once again. He look over to klik And thought of an idea, how about going on another adventure?

Hajime had nothing to do anyways, so he already decided. He whistled ,implying klik To follow him as they walk into the forest.

The forest was full of traps , but they're all visible, what kind of people would place traps that are visible? Hajime thought. Thinking that this person definetly wasn't someone smart.

They cautiously continue their journey as more and more traps appeared. Wait... Ain't these traps are the traps he had saw before? Hajime thought as he stood at where hes at, stopping for awhile to think.

Could it be..? That they are just walking circles and circles around this forest?

Hajime decided to take a check, as he placed a blue pebble down and continue walking. They walked for some time and he indeed saw the blue pebble once again. They were inside of a certain person's trap.

He shouldn't have thought badly of them at first, hajime sighed as he felt regret on what he had thought earlier.he shouldn't have jinx it.

He walked towards another way instead of going straight to the jungle, and he meet upon a pond. It surely isn't the pond before, since the water is all muddy. Around the pond is full of long grass , it seems like this place wasn't cleaned up that often.

Just as hajime was about to approach the pond, he heard his dragon moving aggressively , looking for something. Hajime got curious and ask klik What's wrong.

"Haha! You talk to dragons? Are you a loner or what?"

Suddenly a bright voice spread through the entire forest , the person stated , with a teasing tone.

Hajime quickly turns his head around and saw a small little figure stood behind him. It was the forest spirit!

" you're the ... Forest spirit aren't you?"

Hajime asked, with a questioning look on his face.

" Ahaha, you don't know what the forest spirit look like? Geez do you lack information or what"

The figure laughed as he questioned back hajime. Everyone Im this country should know what the spirits look like, so that they could avoid them. So it certainly is kinda weird for hajime to question them like that.

" anyways, this is my forest, so step away please! "

They said with a very calming tone, it seems that they won't do anything to hajime. So hajime nodded his head and turns around , leaving the forest.

"... Wait- you actually thought I would be letting you go? If we do, people wont be afraid of us you know?"

Hajime’s path was blocked by a blue spark, casted by the forest spirit it self, stopping him from leaving

" now let's see what can I do with you.... Hey jump in this pond! It's full of horse poop!"

They said with a playful tone, asking hajime to step in that muddy pond.

"...huh... You want me to step in that dirty pond?"

Hajime asked, with a disgusted look on his face, you could say he really refused to do that.

" yup yup! Then I'll let you go!"

The forest spirit seem to be sure of their choices and do not plan to change the topic.

Hajime sighed and intended to step the pond, he doesn't want to fight you know

The forest spirit was seen to be shocked of hajime's action, for sure they thought hajime wouldn't do that.

Just as hajime's foot touched the pond, his body flew away from that pond but went towards the forest spirit's arms instead.

"I never thought you'd actually do that! I'm impressed! Fine, I'll let you go, I'll lead you guys out."

They said, looking upwards onto hajime's face since he is shorter than him, hands still wrapping behind his back.

Hajime turned his head around , not looking at the forest spirit as he got tricked by him,such childishness, he thought to himself, but never failed to think that it's actually quite cute for a forest spirit like them.

Afterwards, the forest spirit starts leading the way out to hajime and kilk , they talked on their way and hajime found out that they are just a fellow spirit that just wants to play with other people, they all thought of them just too intimidating.

" how do I call you?"

Asked hajime looking over to the forest spirit while theyre in a position where their hand behind the back of their head.

" call me droplet! Waterfall would be nice too!"

They giggled , as they continued walking forward.

Hajime smiles at droplet and Reach out his hand and put on their head, slowly ruffled their hair as he called them on their name.

"... Droplet, I'll call you droplet then."

Droplet looked at hajime for a moment and soon turned their head away, hiding their faint blush with their hair.

" g-great! I like droplet too!!"

They said, slightly trembling.

After a long journey, they finally reached the end of the forest m hajime thanked droplet for leading the way . Droplet teased hajime on telling him that he would have to pay for the tourist fee.

Hajime laughed , as he run his fingers through droplet's hair and tell them to keep it for next time.

"next.. time? "

Droplet thought they heard it wrong, will hajime come and spend time with them again?

" yeah, I'll come again , it's a lot fun talking to you, it will more fun if you tease a little bit less though,"

Said hajime, with a smile on his face. He really did enjoy the journey with droplet and all the fun things they done.

Droplet couldn't be happy more , he happily jumped up to the sky and thanked hajime for today's journey.

It was a journey both of them will remember.

" see ya! droplet! "

[talesfromgringolandia]

A Trip and a Half - Ch.1

 "Ready?" Kana asked.

"Ready," I replied.

"3..." she says. 

"2..." I continue.

"1..."

"GO!" We both scream.

I grind the bike petal under my foot, causing myself to hurtle forward, neck and neck with my opponent. We spedd down the street, weaving in and out of the cars, narrowly avoiding passerby who gasp and drop their groceries as we blur past. 

We come upon an empty stretch of road. I switch to a higher gear, and begin pumping my legs harder. My thighs are burning, but I can't lose this race. Not after what I saw Kana do just that afternoon. 

I glance over at her. She's not even looking at the road - her eyes are on me, a malicious smirk on her face.  She doesn't even seem to be trying to keep up with me. I grimace and look back at the road. So she's on the varsity biking team - I'm still not losing this race. 

The empty stretch ends, and I switch back to a lower gear to be able to weave among the cars. Every second requires a split second decision. There's a narrow gap ahead, do I lose a second to turn and avoid the risk or keep going and hope I can make it through? There's a person, do I swerve and lose some speed or do I keep going and hope they sidestep first?

I hear laughter, and out of the corner of my eye, I see her red bike pulling ahead. Oh no you don't. Time for another risk - despite the heavy traffic, I switch to a higher gear. 

I'm not going to lose this race. 

Slowly, I begin to catch up. A quick glance informs me that Kana's smug grin has vanished, replaced by the same intense concentration on my own face. Good. I'm making her try at least.

In the distance, I can see the end of the traffic. I risk a glance to see the road name - Legacy Lane. The finish line. Almost there. 

I switch my bike to the highest gear and let out a growl of effort as I begin pushing myself to the limit for the final sprint. I can feel my bike trembling beneath me, every pebble embedded in the asphalt producing a noticeable shift in my trajectory. I can only hope there are no passerby in the way - at this speed, neither I nor them will be able to react in time. 

Only about twenty meters left. I grit my teeth against the pain and push harder. I am vaguely aware of Kana beside me doing the same

The line of cars ends. Ten meters left. 

Directly in front of me, there's movement. A black cat, leisurely crossing the street. At this speed, there's no time to think. I lightly turn my handle to the right, trying to be subtle enough to not destroy my momentum. 

Too fast. My bike pitches forward, and I'm sent flying over the feline. The asphalt flies up to meet me, and I roll end over end before finally coming to a stop, scrapes and bruises covering my body. 

I hear laughter. Kana returns from the finish line and bikes a circle around me. "Nice biking there, hot shot!" she hollers before biking off. 

I sigh and let me head rest on the asphalt, eyes closed. I should probably move before the red light ends. 

When I look up again, the cat is sitting near my head, gazing curiously. It wears a red collar around its neck. 

"You really are bad luck," I say. 

It mews in response. 

A shadow falls over my face. Squinting through the sun in my eyes, I can see only the outstretched hand offered to me. I take it, and as it pulls me to my feet, I come face to face with a very interesting man. His eyes are completely obscured behind reflective glasses, and he's wearing a red cloak. Not a sweater. A cloak - below the shoulders, it extends into a cape which flows in the wind. 

As the stranger lets go of my hand, I realize he left something there. A gem or medallion of some sort - its a shiny blue square with a symbol on the front. 

"Adam," the man says, causing me to look up in surprise. "Come with me." He turns and walks off. 

"Hang on, who are you?" I yell. "How do you know my name? What's this..." I look down at the medallion again. "coin thingy?" 

When I look back up, I barely see him vanish into an alleyway on the side of the road. 

"Who the hell was that?" I murmur to myself. 

A car horn shocks me out of my reverie. I realize the lights have turned green, and I'm holding up traffic. I quickly grab my bike. Luckily, the wheels work enough that I can walk it off the road. But as I get to the edge, I can tell its completely wrecked.  its never taking me on a midnight ride or a high speed chase again.

As I turn my bike homewards, I sigh with regret. A broken bike, scars all over, and not a thing to show for it. Kana had beaten me, thanks to that stupid cat. 

Well, almost nothing to show for it. I glance down at the strange coin the stranger had left me. What a weird encounter. Who would just give a random biker a coin like this? 

"Mew." 

I turn around to see the black cat. Its sitting by the dark alleyway, tail swishing impatiently. 

"What?" I ask. "You want me to follow a cosplayer into a dark alleyway?" 

"Mrrm- Ah!" The cat replies.

I look back down at the medallion. It beckons like a challenge. I really don't want to go home right now. I'd have to explain where I got my bruises from, and then I'd get chewed out for going racing on the street again. Not to mention, Kana is probably waiting there to collect on her bet. 

You know what they say about following strangers into unknown places? 

The alleyway is darker than I expected it to be. The black cat walks ahead of me, and quickly vanishes into the dark. The shadows of the buildings on either side completely obscure the area. It takes my eyes a while to adjust, and every time I glance back I'm blinded again by the bright light from the street. Every object seems to flicker in the dark. I step lightly, not certain how far in the stranger went. I keep thinking, Alright, if I don't see him by the time I pass that dumpster, or window or whatever. Then I get there, and glance down at the medallion. Somehow, I can always see it perfectly in the dark. It fills me with resolve, and I step forward again, getting farther and farther away from the light. 

I see a light through the dark. A dull, red glow, that as I get closer, becomes more defined. Its the glow of a neon sign reading Demon King. As I approach, the windowless metal doors slide open soundlessly. 

"Well that's not ominous at all," I mutter. 

There are no lights on inside. I step up to the threshold and hesitate. Feeling the steely presence of the blue medallion in my grip, I take a deep breath and step inside. 

The door shuts behind me, and icy panic freezes my stomach. Then lights flicker on - expensive looking lights that are merely lines inlaid in the ceiling, meeting in the center at a circle of the same kind of light. The circle envelopes a hole in the ceiling, which allows the tree in the center of the room to grow higher than the room itself. Around the tree is a circular table with chairs around it, and for each chair there is a device on the table. They look like gaming consoles, but there's no disk slot, or power button, or any of the specifics that I tend to associate with a gaming console - only a square slot on the top. The cat is waiting by the nearest table, tail curled neatly around its paws. 

Slowly, I walk around the tree. Each slot is empty, except for the one opposite the door - it has a medallion that looks similar to mine except for two things - its color is purple, instead of blue. And there's no symbol on the front. This medallion is blank. 

I hold up the blue medallion. It looks like it would fit perfectly into the slot on the consoles. What strikes me the most is the fact that there aren't any screens - what kind of consoles don't have some kind of monitor to display the output to? 

"Mrrm-ah!" The black cat mewls. 

I look down at him. 

"Well, whats the worst that could happen. I'm already here, right?" 

I move to place the the medallion in the console. The first indication that something is wrong - besides being in a mysterious building in an alleyway, that is - is when I feel the medallion being pulled towards the console. It's still like a foot away when it slips out of my hand and flies into the console of its own accord. 

The coin glows brightly. The light consumes my vision, and the room around me vanishes. The next thing I feel is the sting of snow. 

[iveryafterdark]

Day 13 - cont

Part 9b, S2; Trusting a stranger

Last Part. Next part.

((first piece of 2021, please forgive me if the writing style is different. 11/08/2021))

Some part of Aika was still expecting the strange blond to be like Relis, some part of the way they moved reminded him of the half-blood, but as Terel quickly took charge and began to stalk back towards the town of hunters Aika began to doubt that feeling. Relis may lead, occasionally, but this shapeshifter had no hesitation in moving to the front. That seemed to be where they naturally drifted.

This was a good thing, really, the shapeshifter walking ahead of him meaning that he didn't have to deal with the strange headaches and sensations that came with being looked at by the strange individual. Terel was dressed in similar attire to the people in the town, leather armor, and linen tunic. Simple, functional, and de-saturated in order to help them blend better into the forest. Along with that, Terel was wearing a deep-green cape that was remarkably clean... their clothes better than that of the drunken men who had threatened him with arrows. Closer in quality to the greying-redhead that had believed him Time's son, as if Terel had enough respect here to earn the good gear.

Or, maybe, Terel had just gotten lucky. Whatever.

Along the path he had come from they walked, Aika keeping a comfortable distance away from the shapeshifter as the blond continued to lead them back towards the village of hunters. Quiet. There were fewer people on the road now, was there trouble?

"So, uh, I'm not seeing that many people on this road anymore. You think there's something going on?" Aika asked, raising his voice to make sure that the pure-blood could hear him despite the distance. He couldn't help but frown when the being paused, glancing dark-grey eyes back at him. Aika didn't know if he should stop too, or if the shapeshifter wasn't interested in having a yelling match with him.

Somewhat reluctantly, the werewolf came to a stop next to Terel, the both of them continuing to stare down the road.

"What do you hear?" the voice of the green-cloaked hunter asked, level and cool.

"You're asking me? I don't have super hearing, how am I supposed to know if there is trouble up ahead or not?" Aika responded, unable to hide his short-tempered frustration at the question.

"You're a werewolf." Terel commented flatly, he could feel the shapeshifter staring at him more than he could see it in the corner of his eye, the sensation making it feel like his vision was tunneling.

"Yeah, and?"

"Werewolves have superior hearing. Just listen." he couldn't help but snort at the words, yeah, sure, this guy knew more about what it meant to be a werewolf than he, the werewolf, did. "Close your eyes and focus for a second, Wolf, do not be so quick to growl at your allies." now Terel sounded frustrated at him, tone flat and short.

Aika couldn't help but pull a face at the blond's words, nose scrunching up as his mouth pulled into a toothless sneer, but the pureblood reluctantly did as the hunter had told him to. Closing his eyes with a huff and crossing his arms, Aika stood in silence for many long moments. He could hear the wind through the branches, obviously, the birds and the rustling of squirrels packing up for the winter, could hear the pebbles under his foot as he shifted on his feet, could even hear Terel's breathing, but that was just what one would expect. He wasn't some kind of hunting hound that could hear for miles.

The dark-toned teen went to open his mouth to release a snarky comment but was quickly, harshly, hushed by the shapeshifter.

"Give it a moment." the blond had said through gritted teeth, the air around them cold, Aika continuing to shift around to give his mind something- "and stop fidgeting." he couldn't help but peek open an eye at the other individual, a deeply childish frown on his face, but he quickly closed it again when he saw the pain-inducing scowl on Terel's strange features.

More quiet, it being an act of will to not move, or look around at least, the sounds of the forest being the only thing that could fill his deeply bored mind. How long would he have to sit here in silence until the shapeshifter finally understood that they were wrong about this? Or that, maybe, he couldn't hear as well as the other werewolves they had come in contact with. Aika let out a brief sigh, his thoughts running in annoying circles like a dog after its tail, repeating how stupid this way until he was starting to give himself a headache with it. Emptying out the stuck thoughts took some amount of focus, the werewolf pulling his attention away from his own frustration and leaning instead into the silence around him. It was blissful for a second, but only a second.

Sound, distant and fuzzy but notable, filled his ears. He could hear the lake again, the one they had left, its water still clinging to his legs. He could hear the sounds of boots crunching on the road far behind them, a woman humming to herself as she returned home. He could hear the quiet sounds of the hunter villages, chaotic and confusing. Of... Kai?

"Well?" Terel's expectant voice pulled him away from all the little noises, everything suddenly feeling very closed off when all he could hear was the birds and trees again.

"I... think my mystic might have gotten into trouble." he said carefully, blinking open his eyes and glancing at the shapeshifter standing next to him for their reaction. Nothing visible that he could see at a quick glance, Aika unwilling to look for long, their expression seemed neutral if maybe a bit thoughtful.

"The town is not known for attacking healers." Terel commented evenly, a shuffling sound coming from Aika's right as if the shapeshifter was stretching or shifting around, before they began back on the well-worn path again. "Come, let's see what your friend has gotten themself into."

"Himself." Aika corrected briefly, quickly moving to follow the shapeshifter as they once more began down the path to the hunter's village. The closer they got the more arguing he could hear, though he couldn't really make out what was being said. Terel seemed unphased by it... until they drew close to the village's edge. The buildings becoming visible. Terel stopped in their tracks and dragged him to a standstill with a sharpened glance. Dangerous.

"Your friend found themself in an argument with a pack of demi-gods."

"How can you tell?" he questioned, glancing around the small part of the town they could see from this part of the road, the trees still covering much of the roads.

"Ether is not exactly common around here, wolf." Terel dismissed quickly, causing Aika's skin to prickle with a quick glance in his direction.

"So we have to go get him, then, before he gets into trouble." he responded, though he didn't like Aika he had agreed to protect him and... well his mother hadn't raised him to be a liar. At least, not that kind. The werewolf brushed himself down with a swipe of his hands before stepping towards the town, ready to take charge, only for a hand to pull him back at his collar.

"Aht-" the shapeshifter made a scolding-tut noise, a similar sound to the 'stop' one that Bear had used when he had been considerably younger. He had heard that shapeshifters were stronger than werewolves, stronger than demi-gods even maybe, but he hadn't exactly experienced it until now. Terel easily dragged him several steps back by his hood like a disobedient child, forcing him to stand much closer to the shapeshifter than he would prefer. "Where do you think you are going?" the hunter asked, tone slightly deeper and almost like a threat. A warning. The sound, mixed with the unwavering gaze of the shapeshifter's narrowed eyes on his profile, caused Aika to feel like a mouse caught by the cat. Nervous.

"To save my travel companion, what else?" he managed in response, surprisingly steady and confident, incredulous in tone.

"Think for a second, wolf, what did I just say they were arguing with?" Aika couldn't help but bristle at the condescending tone, frowning deeply as he struggled to fight the urge to look at the cheeky fucker.

"Demi-gods, so what? They think I'm a demi-god, too, remember?" he snapped back, attempting to pull away from Terel's grip and resorting to pouting when it didn't work.

"Right, demi-gods. Real, actual, demi-gods. Not werewolves pretending to be demi-gods."

"Yeah, yeah, I get it, they have half-gold blood. Can we get to the point?" Terel remained silent for many long moments in response to his words, continuing to stare at Aika until the werewolf began to squirm with discomfort. He had been told that he was a bit of an attention seeker, not that'd he agreed with that assessment, but if he was this was not the kind he wanted.

"The point, pup, is that they have ether and you do not. You can fool the humans in this town, they can't tell the difference, but the Demi-gods have the power to know better. Do you intend on outing yourself as a wolf in a town full of hunters?" oh, huh, he hadn't thought about that. He, honestly, hadn't even considered the fact that Half-gods might be able to feel ether like True-gods could, or like mystics can. Could everything with ether sense each other? Another obvious sign of the fact that he was just a werewolf that he had not been smart enough to look for.

"So... what do we do?" he finally asked after a long moment, closing his eyes before biting the bullet and finally turning to look at Terel. Thankfully, the shapeshifter wasn't looking at him anymore, instead their grey eyes were staring down the road into the village's entrance with intensity. "What's-?" -wrong?

"You... will return to the lake. I will retrieve your prophet from the half-bloods."

"What? You want me to just wait? Do nothing?" Aika didn't know if he felt more disappointed or insulted or incredulous. Shapeshifter though Terel might be, they could still only take on so much... if this devolved into violence they would be at a disadvantage.

"Yes. The demi-gods respect me, but they are hunters and they live to kill people like you."

"Wait.. they respect you? These are demi-gods we are talking about here, if they live to kill us then they thrive on hunting people like you." Aika was aware of what had originally brought Relis to the pack, what he had told Time. That he was being hunted by demi-gods for the crime of living as he was. The werewolf winced momentarily as Terel turned their gaze back to him, an unreadable expression on their face.

"Normally, yes, but I have no such troubles. Go to the lake, I will retrieve your prophet."

"You're... sure about this?"

"Completely." with that last, even, word the shapeshifter started down the path again, leaving Aika by himself for the first time in this outing.