#is because of the 'witnessing the death & vanishing & coming back' thing

[yandere-romanticaa]

Seen the request, so I shall deliver. Could you pls write a drabble or hcs of a yandere sunday with an isekaied reader?

Good timing because I'm actually planning a non yan isekai fic for him, I wonder if you saw that post. Here it is in case you haven't.

Sincerest apologies if this isn't the best, this fic is 100% emotionally charged by my obsession with him and frankly with a little bit of a high for passing a tricky exam. This is a treat for myself.

EDIT: Please check out this wonderful comic that @danijaci made me based off this fic!! 😭🫶

Picking up the cup from the fine oak table, you gazed towards the eerie galaxy before you, hundreds upon thousands of stars giving you a constant reminder of just how far from home you truly were. Taking a sip from the little porcelain cup you could not help but to hum in delight, the soft notes of the tea soothing your nerves ever so lightly as you pretended to ignore the heavy gaze which lingered at the back of your head.

Even from this distance, it was easy to tell that Sunday was eager to approach you. Still, he kept his distance and made a silent offering in the form of the very tea you drank at the moment.

Anything is better than Himeko's coffee but you were never going privy her to that.

In a not so distant past, all of this was nothing but fiction. The Express, the story, the characters - it was all nothing more but fiction, something to pass the time as your days went on and on, the same monotony repeating each and every day.

It was hard to not think about your friends and family, what sane person would not? Lord knows how they must be feeling right now, worried sick out of their minds with indescribable sorrow. In their eyes you had merely vanished, not a single trace to be found. For all they knew you could have been left for dead in a ditch somewhere, beaten, bloodied and broken, never to see the light again or if they were even more inclined to be morbid, you had succumbed to a fate worse than death. Death at the very least grants you finality, that all is over regardless of what happened moments prior.

But that was simply not the case for you.

Here you were, lounging about in a comfortable chair as you pondered on your old life while enjoying tiny little luxuries, far away where none of your loved ones could reach you. However, life was funny sometimes because it had some fun games in store.

Sunday was very kind upon arrival. He made sure to always be there for you, always checking up on you, always there to keep you company. You were already smitten with him but now to actually witness him in the flesh was just... Indescribable. You got along like a house on fire, so much so that the crew liked to tease that you ought to just get a room. Sunday, ever the gentleman, would just brush their words aside and assure you to not take their playful little jabs to heart.

You wouldn't say anything, resorting to merely giving him a smile but not because of what he said but rather of what he did not - never once did he actually shut down those perverse accusations. Never, not even once did he deny them.

He became an emotional crutch, someone to whom you would come running to when things got tough and he would always welcome you with open arms. Sunday would hold you tenderly, his serene voice dripping with honey along with a tender drop of ecstasy, for his excitement with holding you would just show itself sometimes. His grip would be too tight at certain moments, never quite ready to let you leave. His hugs were warm and comforting, he always smelled so good too. He smelled like kindness and sweet wildflowers, always lulling you back to him no matter the time. In dark corners and perhaps even under the watchful eyes of the crew, Sunday would wrap his scarf around your head, securing the soft fabric in order to provide you with a sense of comfort.

It was humiliating just how much you would try to inhale his scent as much as possible. You wanted it etched deep inside your memory, you wished for it to linger on your very soul and for it to follow you everywhere you went, sticking to your being like tar. The fabric of the scarf would muffle your ears a little but someone was always chatting in the background. Be it March bickering with Dan Heng, Mr Yang scolding someone for doing something they were not supposed to, or just Conductor Pom Pom trying to give a speech, all of it was irrelevant.

You were ready to kill whoever would try to pry you away from sweet Sunday. That thought came often which had left you worried - just what kind of person had you become? Regardless, you kept your mouth shut and had no plans of sharing such violent sentiments with anyone, particularly not to the one you held so dear.

When it was time to part for the evening you would bid the crew farewell and wished them a good night. You always made sure to take a few extra seconds with Sunday, just to ease your aching soul. He would tell you to sleep well and would see you in the morning, ready to take on any endeavor that crossed your paths.

As everyone parted ways, Sunday would wander off somewhere dark and distant, somewhere no one could see nor hear him. He would fall to his knees and clutch his chest in agony, fat tears streaming down his face as he did everything he possibly could to steady his raging heart. In a rush he would reach for the scarf which clung around his neck, his grip tighter than iron as he would bring it close to his nose. Taking a large, deep breath, Sunday was greeted by your familiar scent which would promptly calm his poor heart.

He sometimes wondered if his heart would start bleeding from the pain due to the sheer intensity of his emotions.

This was wrong, everything about this was not right and it hurt. Sunday was obviously ill but he had no clue on how to fight this... This emotion, this white hot feeling of need whenever you stood by his side. He started to choke on the air around him and fell into an abrupt coughing fit but even then, he could bring himself to remove the scarf from the lower part of his face.

Sunday wept and sobbed, filthy snot coming out from his nose but he could not handle that now. He needed you, Oh Heavenly Aeons, how he needed you. However was he going to tell you how he felt? How, oh how was he going to express the sheer magnitude of his true thoughts? He would scare you off, he was sure of it.

Even with this pain, even with these clipped wings and bleeding heart, Sunday had never felt so alive, so harrowingly present in the moment whenever he was with you.

Perhaps, he was doing himself a kindness by just letting you be. Drink your tea, be at peace.

He can always just make you another cup if you so desired.

Without knowing, you both haunted each other in the most agonizing way known to mankind and neither was strong enough to face the reality of the situation.

[lowkeyerror]

Guidance

Agatha Harkness x Rio Vidal x Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Notes: Near death experience, pre-cannon, I think it’s mostly spoiler free be wary,

Summary: You are thought to be the weakest member of your coven. After hearing it so often you begin to believe it. It’s not until you encounter a mysterious woman in the woods, that you get a glimpse of you true power.

An: 2 parter & part 2 should be up in a matter of minutes 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️. Hope you like this one. I'm really just free writing these as they come up in my head

Part 2 | Masterlist

You were the weakest in your coven. The others were miles ahead of you when it came to actually using magic. However no one knew as much about it as you did.

You spent your time reading hoping to come across something that would wake your full potential but you found nothing.

Your coven bullied you relentlessly for your shortcomings. You heard their harsh words every time you failed a task. You heard it when you were left to clean up after them. You heard it when they would ditch you in the woods claiming it would build merit.

“This isn’t funny you guys, it’s dark please,” you call through the trees.

No one answers, not that you expect them to. You try to cast a light spell just enough to hold it in your hand, but you fail.

You start to hear noises in the woods surrounding you. Quickly you turn your back and take a defensive stance. You feel the hairs stand up against the back of your neck, and a light sweat begin to coat your forehead.

“I- I am armed,” you lie trying to reason with the darkness

When a figure steps out, you feel yourself start to shake. It was hard to see, but the hooded figure was illuminated by the soft light of the moon.

She was beautiful, something unnatural like you’ve never seen before. The warmth in her face, the faint rosy tones of her cheeks, the deep luxury of expensive leather in her eyes. She has stunned you into silence.

“You’re freezing,” is the only thing she says to you.

In your fear you hadn’t noticed the cold bite of the night. However as the stranger points it out you can feel a numbness start to take a place in your body.

“My coven… they like to play tricks on me like this,” you cast your gaze down, afraid to look into her eyes.

“That’s not very funny,” she speaks gently.

You raise your gaze to look at her, “It’s because I’m the weakest member. I can’t even cast a simple spell to light a path.”

The mystery woman shakes her head , “I don't think that’s true.”

She removes her cloak and drapes it over your shoulder.

“You’ll freeze miss,” you try to reason with her, but she just chuckles.

“Give me your hand,” she commands.

You hesitate but place your hand in hers. She lays your palm up flat.

“What are you do-”

“Think of something warm, like a blanket or a coat,” she guides you.

“Ok,” you mumble following her directions.

She praises you, “Very good, now move from warm to hot. Think of the blistering sun or an oven or… fire.”

When she says fire she can already see the ball growing in your hand. She looks over to see if you’re witnessing your power, but your eyes are closed.

“Now what? Hello?”

You open your eyes and the woman had vanished. Your eyes lock on the ball of fire illuminating from your hand. You had never been able to do something like this before.

With the stranger’s cloak around you and the ball of fire in your hand you were able to find your way back to the coven. You snuffed out the fireball before getting too close to the cabins.

“That’s a new record Y/n, we almost didn’t think you’d make it back,” one of the bullies snickers.

Instead of entertaining them with a stutter filled response like you usually do, you just walk past them. The woman from the woods still in your mind. You look at your hand that held the fire ball. Was she responsible for it, or could you do it on your own.

You do just like she instructed. Thinking of something warm and then hot. This time watching as your fingertips began to glow and fire danced in your palm.

Maybe you had been letting the words of the others get to you. Perhaps you had power just like theirs hidden somewhere underneath all of that doubt.

You decided that you would press the limits of your powers until your knowledge matched your ability. As soon as you began believing in yourself, the power seemed to surge through you.

You kept the woman’s cloak as you trained your powers. Often sneaking off in the night to teach yourself as your coven still believed you to be a weakling.

It’s a few months later, when your powers are much more refined that you grow tired of the teasing. You’re certain that you are more powerful than the other members of the coven.

“Hey Y/ln,” you turn at the sound of your last name.

A ball of mud thuds against your face and the sound of laughter rings in your ears. You try to calm yourself down as your anger begins to rise.

“Look she’s going to cry.”

“Chin up Y/n, you’re too old for tears.”

“I’m sure there’s a spell you can’t use that would be helpful right now.”

You felt hot all over. Like the rage was boiling your blood. Your fists were clenched together at your side. You felt the mud harden over your face before cracking off like it was a rock.

“Who threw it?” Your voice is low.

The laughter has stopped. They all look at you paralyzed with fear. You were on fire from your head to your toes. Pupils engulfed in flames.

“WHO THREW IT?” You repeat louder.

“We were just teasing Y/n, restrain yourself.”

You take a deep breath, and for a moment the flames die down.

“Freak,” someone mumbles.

That’s all it takes for you to shoot the fire out of your hand towards your coven members. Most of them moved out of the way.

The one’s who were too slow, did not have the time to scream. They were piles of ashes almost instantly. The others yell in their place, tears streaming down.

Their cries do something to pull you from your rage. You begin blinking rapidly. Your body feels empty on the inside, warmth was no longer there replaced by a bone chilling cold.

You pass out. When your coven sisters were aware that weren’t getting up again, they ran. They ran all the way to the mother of your coven to tell her what you did. They decided you would die for your actions.

When you gained consciousness you found yourself in a large glass. On the opposite side of the glass were your peers. You tried talking to them but none of them responded.

You weren’t truly panicking until the water started to flood into the sides of the glass. You began to bang on the glass, it did not relent. The water was ice cold as it started to climb up your legs.

“Please, please,” you beg them, tears streaming down your face.

“You never belonged in this coven, even with power, you are still a weakling,” the mother of the coven spat at you.

You felt your insides begin to burn again, but the cold water feels like it's putting out the fire. The water begins to rise. The higher it rises the more you fight against the execution.

Water begins to fill your lungs and you cough. It only makes more water enter your body. You begin to loose consciousness this time noting you won’t be waking again.

Your eyes flutter and before they close, you see a large flash of purple. You hear the glass tank you’re in begin to crack. You’re back is against the ground and your eyes are wide open.

“Is she breathing?”

“Do CPR.”

“Rio, I don't even know this gi-"

“DO THE CPR, AGATHA.”

Soon Agatha begins doing chest compressions on you. She hears a very feint heart beat. She moves to mouth to mouth. She tries to blow air into your lungs 2 or 3 times.

Eventually you start coughing, and she gains some distance.

“Are you alright bunny?”

You shake your head trying to clear the ringing.

“How did you?”

Your eyes begin to focus. You see the lifeless bodies of your coven members behind her. It makes you scramble back away from the woman.

“Hey, hey take it easy. They were trying to kill you, I did the right thing,” the woman tries to rationalize with you.

“What's your name?” You attempt to scramble to your feet.

“ Agatha Harkness. I’m not going to hurt you,” she stays in place eyes boring into yours.

Your eyes shift to the bodies once more, “How can I be sure?”

“She’s not going to hurt you, Y/n,” that voice was familiar to you.

You look behind you to see the woman you had come across in the forest. Seeing her in the daylight brings a brighter hue to your already flush cheeks. You begin to cough again.

“You- you put the fire in my hand,” you sputter.

She shakes her head, “That fire was inside of you, long before we crossed paths my sweet.”

“How did you find me?”

Agatha laughs, “Tell her how you found her Rio. Who you really are?”

Rio glares at Agatha, “Shut up, Agatha.”

“Who are you?” You whisper.

“I am Death,” she states.

You look at her waiting for her to say sike. To admit that this was some cruel joke, but she doesn't. Instead she just looks at you with her doe eyes.

“Let’s get you dry, bunny” Agatha says and with a flick of her hand, your clothes are dry.

“You wear my cloak.”

You pull it closer to your body, “ Keeps me warm.”

“I have been… drawn to you for some reason Y/n. You could've easily froze to death that night we met. You were so close, but then I interfered. It wasn’t your time yet. So I decided to offer you warmth.”

You stare up at her, “You must be mistaken. I am not… there’s nothing special about me. Especially nothing good enough to have Death save my life.”

“What did you do too have your whole coven turn against you?”

You stutter, “I- I got upset.”

Rio pushes you to further explain, “And what happened when you got upset?”

Your jaw twitches, “I started to feel hot on the inside.”

“And then what, bunny?”

You feel the fire roaring numbly inside of you, “I was covered it in fire. I shot it at them for teasing me. Some… some of them didn't move quick enough. ”

You begin to hyperventilate as the reality of your actions set in. You had killed people, their blood on your hands. Technically your entire coven was dead because of you.

“Deep breaths,” Agatha sits in front of you guiding you through the breaths. “Don’t feel ashamed for doing what you had to do for survival. It's not always about who is the strongest or even who is the smartest, it’s about who survives.”

“But for the record you were more powerful and smarter than all of them, “ Rio shares.

“I don't understand,” you look between the two women.

“Y/n, you are an elemental witch. It’s like a green witch on steroids,” Agatha explains.

You scoff, “Just because I made a fireball, anybody can do that.”

“You just said you were engulfed in flames,” Rio counters.

“Well that's just fire there are other elements,” you say, sure of your words.

Agatha nods, “Indeed there are, but you’ve only tried to play with fire. Give me your hand.”

Just like you had done months ago with Rio, you give Agatha your hand. She holds it face up with her own under yours.

“Now what?”

“Think of a flower. Any kind of flower. Be sure in the details. How long is the stem, does it have leaves on it? How big is the flower, is it multicolored?”

You follow Agatha’s instructions and easily enough a flower is sprouting out of your hand.

“How curious?” Rio glances at the flower you’ve made.

“What?” You ask gently pulling the flower from your palm.

“You made a Rio Dipladenia,” Agatha speaks breathless for a moment.

You furrow your brows, “Is that a bad thing?”

“No, it’s not. That flower, I created it for Agatha, so it’s quite the coincidence that you would think to make it,” Rio informs you.

A blush spreads across your face, “Oh, would you… do you want the flower, Agatha?”

Agatha’s eyes snap to Rio before settling on you, “You’re adorable, doll.”

“I agree, too adorable to be wandering the forest alone and untrained. Come with us Y/n, we will help you reach your full potential,” Rio insists.

You look between the two for a moment, contemplating. You had nothing. Your coven was dead, your powers were unpredictable at best, and you couldn’t stand the thought of being alone.

You slowly nod, “Ok.”

“Good choice, bunny.”

[thewulf]

My Queen || Aragorn

Summary: Request - Can I pleeeease send you an idea where he finds a girl in the woods, hurt and not conscious but he feels the need to help her and be close to her. So he takes care of her wounds till she wakes up and it's like true love at first sight for both of them... Read Rest Here

A/N: OH WOW, this got out of hand QUICK but I had SO MUCH FUNNNN writing this way! It was a challenge but it felt invigorating to write. I am obsessed with Aragorn and I just love him. Margot Robbie is so right for her cinematic crush! Thank you for the request anon, hope you love it :)

Pairing: Aragorn x Reader

Word Count: 10,000 +

TW: Violence, orc violence, poison, death, blood, crying, angst, lotr warnings, Aragorn being hot af

Just a few more stumbling steps. You could do it. Glancing down you grimaced at the crimson coated and tattered dress that you’d been wearing for the last five or so days. It used to be so gorgeous, a gift from the man you were meant to wed. Truly it was the only exquisite gift you’d ever received in your entirety. However now it looked as if it’d seen a thousand lives, just like the elves had. It bore this resemblance due to the attack on your home. You ran. Running far away from everything you knew. It was tough to grasp just how much you’d been through in the five days since you had to flee your small village just outside of Eriador.

You’d had a good life. Good but rather simple. Almost too simple for your taste. You were engaged to be wed to the local jewelers son at your father’s doing. He had assured you over and over again that going through with the wedding would lead you to a life that he could not provide you. A life you were destined for. Your mother, Valar rest her soul, had been killed a few years prior in an attack on your village leaving you with your father and a small place to live. But it was home.

The local jeweler boy, Newall, had asked you to take a walk around the village right before the tragic events occurred. One moment you were giving him your kindest smile. The next he pushed you into the woods after hearing the screaming coming from the village center. Not making your most brilliant decision you decided to follow behind him only to come to the horrifying realization that your seemingly insignificant village was being brutalized by Orc’s. You stood there frozen in fear as you witnessed men, women and children being slain as if they meant nothing. 

It was only when you came face to face with one that you realized how much trouble you were in. Valar save you. He must’ve listened because the Orc simply look at you, growled and pushed you into the side of the house you were standing next to. But then it dawned on you that he wasn’t done. The creature walked to you terrifyingly slow, standing over you before driving it’s sword into your side. Before you could even yelp out in pain the orc vanished leaving you to die presumably. But it was a shallow wound. It didn’t seem like it was trying to do too much damage. Orcs knew one thing, killing. It was odd that one would have spared you.

When you finally came back to the reality of the situation you knew you had to go. Run to Bree. Your dad always instructed that’s where you needed to go. You had an uncle up there that could look after you. Deciding not to waste another second you rushed inside the house grabbing whatever clothing you could find. Tying a pair of Newall’s pants around your waste to hopefully stop the bleeding you only grabbed a little bit of food before you made for the forest. You’d have to find something along the way. The trek to Bree would take nearly a month on foot.

Using the stars as guidance you moved through the forest you knew very well. It started out fine. You were trained to do just this. Your father had made sure of it. What you hadn’t considered was the poison from the orc blade that was slowly taking its toll on your body. It was the fourth night that you realized you were in serious trouble. On the fifth day you decided you weren’t going to be able to go any further. No wonder the Orc didn’t just kill you there. He left you to suffer. What a vile creation. 

It didn’t take you long to decide on where you wanted to die. You found a nice tree under the shade of the leaved with a comfortable base. You were just going to go to sleep and hopefully never wake up. Hopefully the poison would just do what it wanted to and let you finally go. 

That did not happen though. You felt a light kick on your boot forcing your eyes to open. What you weren’t expecting was a rather handsome looking ranger with ice blue eyes to be staring right at you. Considering what to do.

“Miss,” He knelt down after whispering something to his horse, “Are you injured?” His surprisingly concerned eyes spotted the blood that coated your worn-down dress.

Taking a long breath, you mustered enough strength to answer the stranger, “Yea, Master Ranger.” You let your head lean back on the trunk of the tree relieving the strain it seemed to put on year mere consciousness.

“Forgive me, but you do not look it miss.” His head was level with yours as he moved closer to you. He didn’t dare touch you without your permission, but he wanted too, you were not all right like you so miserably tried to convince him.

A shallow breath escaped you, “I fear I have been stabbed by an Orc blade Ranger. I do not have much longer.” Your eyes flicked away from his in a pathetic attempt to rid him of the conversation. He would have no such thing though. Leave a fair maiden to perish on her own? Not on his accord.

“Strider.” He corrected you. It wasn’t often he’d give out his Ranger known name to strangers, but you seemed harmless enough. What could a human woman such as yourself have done to deserve such a fate he wondered before continuing on, “We are but a half days journey to a small town called Sarn Ford. Have you heard of it miss?” He asked in hopes of seeing your eyes open once more.

You did as he wished and looked at him again, “Sarn Ford? Oh dear. I’ve gone the wrong direction.” You grimaced in pain as you tried to sit up higher on the tree trunk.

“Where are traveling to miss? On your own?” He held out an open hand for you to take. He left the decision on if you’d accept the help up to you.

Eyeing his hand, you knew he was prying. But he seemed trustworthy. The Rangers of the North were meant to be. Strider as he called himself. Your eyes met his again and you caved right then and there. He looked genuine, like he thought he could actually help you. Like you were not too far gone. With all the strength you could muster in your quickly fading body you put your hand in his, “Aye. My village was attacked by orcs. Third time in the last five years. They got me this time.” You sighed trying your hardest to stay conscious, “I was meant to travel to Bree. But I must have taken to the wrong direction. I will be blaming the Orc poison for the misdirection.” You let out a pained laugh trying to lighten the tone of the conversation going on between the two of you.

“All right. Off we go. What is your name?” He asked you needing to know to continue.

He watched you intently sputter out the words you were trying to get out. His fear of orc poison was right, you truly did not have that much time left. With your permission he scooped you up in his arms, called his horse over and positioned you in front of him while he rode. He knew you did not have enough strength to hold on from behind. He knew It would be a challenge to keep you upright on the journey back to Sarn Ford. He was meeting Gandalf there, anyway, might as well help the woman who he had taken a fast liking towards. Even Strider could see the beauty in things, and you were mighty beautiful in his eyes. Even coated in layers of dirt and grime he knew you shined like a star above him.

“Y/N.” You admitted to the man not feeling up to lying to him. You would likely be dead before dawn anyway. You would have hoped he would find a way to let anybody surviving know of your unfortunate fate. But in reality you were just another causality of war. A human life cut far too short.

“Lovely name.” He smiled lowly as he held you into him. He could feel you were fading in and out of consciousness as he held onto your waist tightly.

You hummed in thanks not having the strength to reply to him.

“Hold on miss Y/N. We will be there soon.” He spoke into your ear startling you back onto the middle earth side of consciousness.

But as much as he tried you had succumbed to your own fate. Blackness took over before you reached the village of Sarn Ford.

Much to your own surprise your eyes opened once more. You peaked around seeing all sorts of supplies. You must have been in some sort of healers room you concluded quickly. Looking down you were not in your attire you had been found in but a simple dress that you were more accustomed too. Being so caught up in your own accord you had yet to see the two men. Well one man and one wizard standing off to the side conversing as you came back to reality.

“Welcome young one.” The wizard spoke. You had never seen one before. Thought they were the thing of legends. But sure, as it would be one stood before you. They were easy to spot. Had an aura about them.

Your eyes snapped back to Striders looking at him in surprise. He was more handsome than you remembered as the sun beat down on his features through the window in the hut you were in, “It is all right.” He nodded at you, “This is Gandalf the Grey, he is an old friend of mine.”

“Hello Gandalf.” You broke your eyes away from the stranger your somewhat knew and turned your head towards the wizard.

“How are you fairing?” He asked whilst leaning onto his cane.

“Fine now. Thank you.” You turned toward Strider who made his way closer, “Thank you Strider. For without you I fear I may have been dead by now.” A shiver of realization ripped down your spine as you admitted it out loud.

He bowed his head, “I am honored to have been of service miss Y/N.” You looked over to him giving him a bashful smile. He was really so handsome. More handsome than any of the boys or men in your small village.

“Are you well enough to travel?” Gandalf asked breaking the trance the two of you had been locked in for a moment too long to be just friendly glances. Gandalf was considered wise for a reason. He had an inkling feeling there was something budding between his usually broody friend and the pretty human girl he had found in the woods. Maybe you were his gift from Valar. Every great leader needed one. Who was Gandalf to question the gods.

“I believe so.” You sat you wincing only slightly as the wound in your side. Strider wanted nothing more than to push you back down and curse the wizard who suggested you move so soon.

“Miss Y/N. You need to rest a little longer.” He insisted placing a gentle hand on your shoulder preventing you from standing.

Gandalf grumbled, “You must get to the Prancing Pony Inn. I’m going to meet Frodo now. Time is of the essence Aragorn.”

Your eyes crumbled in confusion. Who was Aragorn?

He did not leave you time to question as he grabbed at your hand, “Come miss Y/N. We have a ride to take.”

You sat at the bar table with Strider who had hood of his robe covering his face. You grew more uneasy as the night wore on at the Prancing Pony. The horse ride was quick thankfully. And much to your delight the Hobbits Gandalf was speaking of finally appeared. Right on time.

Strider shot up from his seat, “Wait here miss Y/N. I must save the Hobbit.” He sighed before bounding off into the depths of the bar. You felt even more uneasy as the eyes around you made their way to your shaking frame. You were nervous.

After far too many moments alone he grabbed you by your arms, “Come Y/N. We must hide.” He directed you to another room than the ones you had planned on staying in.

“Strider?” You asked following him up a set of stairs you were unfamiliar with.

“Nazgul. I’ll explain later. For now, you must sleep. We have a long journey to Rivendell. Especially with the Hobbits.” He let a long breath while opening the door for you. Quickly, you were attacked by questions from the four little Hobbits. Happily, though you answered every single one before lying next to Strider who promised to keep watch.

“You should get some rest too.” You whispered hoping not to wake the sleeping Hobbits.

He nodded, “I shall. In due time. I fear we have something coming.”

Your frown was evident as he continued to try and comfort you, “Do not fret. I am keeping watch for a reason. We are safe.”

“I believe you Strider.” You yawned not being able to keep the tiredness away for much longer.

“Rest.” He commanded.

You were far too tired to argue that as the darkness crept in.

You were woken when the screeching next door commenced. The Hobbits must’ve had more sensitive ears as they were already up and staring at Strider who looked glum.

“What are they?” Frodo asked.

He sat at the window looking at the five of you, “They were once men. Great kings of men. The Sauron the Deceiver gave to them nine rings of power.” You felt a shiver ripple across your body. You’d heard the legends and did not believe those either. Yet again, another thing coming true right before your eyes.

“We must move.” He commented seeing the Nazgul retreating away from the inn.

You must have walked for miles until Strider had the five of you rest at the old watchtower of Amon Sul. You stood there behind the Hobbits staring up the decaying rock structure before you. It must have been grand in its time.

Once you were seated next to the Hobbits he stood and tossed each of you a weapon, “These are for you. Keep them close. I’m going to have a look around. Miss Y/N, will this blade be too large for you?” He handed you a smaller sword for you to try.

“I fear you have too much faith in me Strider.” You unsheathed the sword holding onto it carefully, “But this will work.” You nodded towards him.

“You shall not have to use it. In case only.” He pointed at each of you, “I will be back. Rest. Make no noise or sound.” His command was easy to follow. A natural born leader it seemed.

You woke when you heard Frodo yelling from beside you, “What are you doing?” He yelled a little too loud. You rose from the ground you had managed to sleep on and watched the interaction unfold. You cursed when you saw the fire going. He had not explicitly said no fires, but the intention was there.

“Put it out you fools!” Frodo cried. You rose from your slumber and haphazardly helped him put it out.

The horrifying cry you heard from the Nazgul the night before rang out from outside the watch tower.

“Oh no.” You spotted them coming towards you, “No Strider?” You turned to Frodo with a horrifying realization.

He shook his head, “Go! Up!” You followed the Hobbits to the top of the tower and waited. You shivered when you saw them come from the shadows. You heard nothing but your hammering heart in your chest. This was it. This could be the end. You sword was shaking in your hand.

“Back you devils!” Sam screamed trying to shield them off. You blocked a shot but was stopped when Frodo pulled the ring out. You gasped when they all ran from him. To your horror when he put the ring on he disappeared.

Strider came out of nowhere blocking back the Nazgul from all of you. You ran to Frodo in horror seeing the man defend the five of you with ease. A few of them went up in flames as kept fighting them off. They had enough when he got another went up and flames and ran off. Strider quickly came over to the five of you surrounding Frodo. You had your hand on his horrifyingly black wound. You’d never seen poison like that before.

“Help him Strider!” You cried in a shaky voice once he kneeled down next to you.

He picked the sword up shaking his head slowly, “He’s been stabbed by a Morgul blade.” The blade vanished in his hand as Frodo writhed beneath you, “This is beyond my skill to heal. He needs Elvish medicine.”

You looked down at the Hobbit in pain and let a single tear fall, “We will get you the help you need mister Frodo. Rest assured.” He picked the Hobbit up and began running, “Let us go.”

The four of you trailed Strider in a daze. The Nazgul screams seemed to ring out from every direction as you ran, “Hurry!” he shouted at the four of you with Frodo crying in his arms.

“We are six days from Rivendell! He will never make it!” Sam cried sending a shuddering realization through you.

You simply heard a faint whisper come from Strider ahead of you, “Hold on, Frodo.” From Strider who kept running and did not acknowledge Sam. As tired as you were you had to keep moving for Frodo’s sake. You ran and ran until you could no more and then you ran some more.

He only stopped when he ran into three petrified trolls. He set Frodo down looking around frantically. You and Sam went over to look after him. Same placed a gentle hand to the despondent Hobbit.

Sam shuddered at the touch, “Mr. Frodo! He’s going cold.”

“Is he going to die?” Pippen chimed in. You stood back looking over the shivering Hobbit who long since stopped crying out in pain.

Strider turned to the five of you with a concerned look crossing over his features, “He’s passing into the Shadow World. He’ll soon become a Wraith like them.” He stated so calmly. Your face grimaced at the horrifying realization. Frodo becoming a Nazgul?

Strider continued, “Sam, do you know the Athlelas plant?” You listened in but bent down to hold Frodo’s hand hoping some comfort would help the gasping Hobbit. His eyes were glazing over with something of a blue sheen that sent shivers down your body.

“Athelas?” Sam asked confused by the question.

“Kingsfoil.” Strider tried a different name.

Sam nodded, “Kingsfoil, aye, it’s a weed!”

“It may help the poisoning. Hurry!” He pushed the Hobbit off, “Miss Y/N. Stay with Frodo. We will be back with help.” You nodded holding onto his hand dearly.

Not a few moments later you saw the help arriving. A beautiful elf strode over and down to the quickly fading Hobbit. You took a step back as she took a step towards him. You gaped at the beauty that she was leaning down to your newfound friend. An elf in real life. She was beyond your wildest imagination. You had been told of their beauty, but this was bordering on ethereal.

“I am Arwen. I have come to help you.” She whispered into his ear, “Hear my voice. Come back to the light.” She grabbed at his hand while Strider handed her the plant.

“Who is she?” Merry asked quietly as Frodo was tended to.

“Arwen, an elf.” You whispered repeating what you heard her speak to Frodo not seconds ago, “She’s going to save him.” You said out loud to convince yourself more so than the group of Hobbits.

“Frodo,” She whispered, “He’s fading.” She sounded concerned as she looked over to Strider, “He’s not going to last. We must get him to my father.” The two of them stood as Strider grabbed at Frodo, “I’ve been looking for you for two days.” She said to Strider. You watched as the scene unfolded before you not wanting to get in the way of whatever was occurring.

“Where are you taking him?” Sam asked confused and terribly concerned for his friend.

He was ignored as Arwen continued, “There are five Wraiths behind you. Where the other four are, I do not know.” You watched as Strider put Frodo onto the horse with ease.

Suddenly Strider started talking in what you assumed to be Sindarin as you could not understand what they were saying. They must have agreed upon something as Arwen hopped onto the horse and took off with Frodo. Your mind was sent into a spiral as you guessed where he was going and off so quickly.

“She is taking him to Rivendell. To Lord Elrond for him to be healed. She is the faster rider and will get him there sooner. Come, we must go.” He motioned for the group to keep moving, “Miss Y/N, will you walk with me?”

You nodded speeding up your pace to match his, “Master Strider.”

“Strider is fine.” He hummed as he led the group out of the forest somehow knowing exactly where to go.

“Is he going to make it?” You had to ask him. The thought of his passing was eating at you.

He nodded, “His best chance is with Arwen. The sooner we get to Rivendell the sooner we will find out.”

“Well then let us speed up our pace then.” You smiled up at him.

He chucked and nodded. The two of you walked in a comfortable silence as you occasionally made sure the chatty Hobbits behind you were faring all right.

“She is pretty.” You spoke after a while of not being able to get Arwen’s face out of your mind.

“Arwen?” He questioned you giving you a curious once over seeing that the statement seemingly came out of nowhere.

“Aye. She is beautiful.”

“She is. Most elves are.” He agreed with you, “She is wed to another healer. Her father set the marriage up ages ago before you great great grandmother was even a thought.”

“Oh, to have the lifespan of an elf!” You laughed feeling the weight of whatever tension you were holding onto about Arwen be lifted.

“I bet it is not all that it seems to be.” You nodded as the two of you continued on the trek to Rivendell occasionally chatting about random things back and forth. You were so caught up in him you failed to notice the Hobbits watching the two you of converse the entire journey back as if you were already a married couple just strolling the lands.

“Welcome to Rivendell miss Y/N.” Aragorn smiled when he saw your gaping face taking in all the scenery stretching beyond your wildest imagination. He too was struck in awe by its beauty the first time he had come across it all those years ago.

“This cannot be real.” You gasped as he took your hand, pulling you along to look along the city.

“Aye. It is. Come, I want to show you your living quarters for the time being.” He pulled you along knowing exactly where to go in Lord Elrond’s castle. He stopped in what you assumed to be the center seeing two people walking towards the two of you. The wizard and a dark-haired elf stopped just short of you.

��Ah, welcome young one.” Gandalf walked up with who you assumed to be Lord Elrond, “It is wonderful to see you in one piece. Unlike our young Frodo.” He chuckled not realizing what he had said sounded bad without knowing how he was.

Your face dropped, “Oh no, did he not make it?”

Gandalf shook his head hastily in realization of his error, “He is fine young one. A few more hours and he would not have made it.” Gandalf stepped forward, placing a hand on your shoulder in reassurance, “Aragorn here will show you to your chambers.”

You cocked your head to the side, “Aragorn? You said that back in Sarn Ford as well. Who is Aragorn?” This really was not your place to speak in front of so many important people. But you were always a curious one, so you had to ask. The worst they could do is refuse to elaborate any further and you would not press. You did understand boundaries even if you pushed them.

Strider looked at Gandalf with a question in his gaze. Gandalf always had a plan. He could see the feelings bubbling to the surface for Aragorn for his newfound human companion that had to be a gift from Valar himself. Gandalf knew the longer he kept his identity from you the harder the breach of trust would befall the two of you.

Gandalf nodded giving his friend a push towards you. He knew Aragorn had to admit this to you himself. You saw Lord Elrond cock his head in confusion watching the interaction go down. He must not have been privy to what had been going down in Gandalf’s mind.

“Ah, miss Y/N. Strider is my Ranger name. It is my identity. As is Aragorn. Son of Arathorn.” He spoke slowly watching as your face twisted from confusion to realization. You may have been from Eriabor, but you surely knew who Arathorn was.

He continued, “I am also called Elessar, the Elfstone, Dúnadan, the heir of Isildur Elendil's son of Gondor."

“A rightful King?” You asked him with widened eyes. You had no clue that you had been traveling with such a company. You had been so crass it made you want to run away right then and there, especially with Gandalf and Lord Elrond’s amused gazes watching the interaction between two humans.

He nodded, “You are correct.”

“Aragorn.” You spoke for the first time giving him a wide smile, “I do like it. It suits a King such as yourself. Would you mind if I continued to call you Strider though?” Bowing your head slightly you felt a rush of embarrassment pulsate through you. Why were you so unladylike? It was all so thoughtless when he was just a Ranger. Not a bloody King of Gondor.

He waited until your eyes met his again, “No need to bow miss Y/N. And thank you. You may call me either.”

A quick head nod was interrupted by Gandalf, “We must be off. Aragorn drop the young one off at her residence. You are free to explore the castle and Rivendell. But we will need you to meet us in the gardens. We have much to discuss before the Council of Elrond shows up in a few days.” Gandalf spoke directly to Strider who just nodded in agreement.

“Come miss Y/N.” He took your hand and pulled you along quickly, “You will enjoy your stay here. It is a wonderful place. There is quite a bit to do, and the elves are very kind.” He tried his best to reassure you knowing that Gandalf was right. You could not go on. You were not prepared for this kind of journey to any extent. Gandalf also revealed of Aragorn’s known feelings for you. You would be a distraction he could not have along the journey.

“It seems like it.” You grinned thankful you were able to do your own thing for the afternoon. You felt bad for Strider or Aragorn. He seemed to have quite a bit of business to attend to.

He stopped at a door letting you inside. It was small but quant and rather extravagant. Fine details laced every surface. You’d come to expect nothing less from the elves, “I will find you later. Enjoy your day miss Y/N.”

The days went by slowly as you got acquainted with Rivendell. You had the sneaking suspicion your journey was also stopping as Strider was not so keen on giving you any information even though he was gone for days on end.

It was on the day of the gathering of the Council of Elrond that you had all but given up. That was until there was a rapid knocking at your door. Thankfully your elf maiden Nimloth had made sure you were dressed as Strider stood before you with a smile on his face, “Come miss Y/N. The Council of Elrond is starting soon.”

“I am invited?” You were sure there was a dumb look on your face.

He nodded slowly, “Gandalf insisted. Lord Elrond relented.”

You followed him in silence to the gathering of the council. You sat behind Frodo closer to Lord Elrond and away from all of the action that was sure to go down.

It was not long after you took a seat that Lord Elrond stood gathering the council to begin, “Strangers from distant lands, friends of old and new,” His eyes met yours giving you a small wink before continuing on, “You’ve been summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor. Middle-earth stands upon the brink of destruction. None can escape it. You will unite, or you will fail. Each race is bound to this fate, this one doom. Bring forth the ring, Frodo.” A shiver ran down your spine at his straight to the point opening. This was not good.

You watched as Frodo stood and dropped the ring on the stump in the middle of the council.

You heard the man called Boromir speak up, “So it is true.” He looked at the ring with something of desire lacing it. You looked at Strider who was watching the man skeptically. He continued, “The doom of man. It is a gift.” Your heart raced at such a senseless statement. You watched as Strider grew angry at his arrogance.

Nevertheless, Boromir continued, “A gift of the foes of Mordor. Why not use this Ring? Long has my father the Steward of Gondor kept the forces of Mordor at bay. By the blood of our people are your lands kept safe. Give Gondor the weapon of the enemy. Let us use it against them.” He passionately spoke hoping to gain the agreement of the Council.

But Strider would have none of that false speak, “You cannot wield it. None of us can. The One Ring answers to Sauron alone. It has no other master.” Your heart rate sped down at the sensible statement to the man you had grown quite fond of in your week or so of traveling. You had grown a strong liking to the handsome Ranger who saved your life without a second thought.

Boromir looked skeptically at Strider, “And what would a Ranger know of this matter?” He asked with a smug look to his face. You wanted to slap that look right off of his face for he had no clue who he was talking to! A king!

But the elf called Legolas stood quickly in his defense, “This is no mere Ranger. He is Aragorn, Son of Arathon.” You watched as his face scrunched up in a minor irritation. He had tried so hard to keep that a secret and now it was out, “You owe him your allegiance.” He finished looking just as irritated as Strider did. It still felt weird to call him Aragorn. So, you kept up with Strider.

Boromir turned back to him, “Aragorn.” He spoke with a hint of shock in his tone, “This is Isildur’s heir?”

“An heir to the throne of Gondor.” Legolas spoke earning a glare from Strider who spoke to him in Elvish quickly. You wondered what he said because Boromir looked suddenly very angry.

Boromir nearly spat with vengeance while looking at the blond elf, “Gondor has no king.” He turned to look back at Strider and shook his head, “Gondor needs no king.”

Gandalf spoke up breaking the tension among men, “Aragorn is right. We cannot use it.”

Lord Elrond stood, “You have only one choice. The Ring must be destroyed.”

The dwarf called Gimli stood then, “What are we waiting for?” He grabbed his axe and sliced at it in attempt to shatter it. Of course, that did nothing but startle the entire council into submission.

“The Ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli, son of Gloin... by any craft that we here possess. The Ring was made in the fires of Mount Doom. Only there can it be unmade.” Lord Elrond spoke matter of factly. You watched as Frodo nearly collapsed from the pain and realization. You laid a gentle hand on his shoulder hoping he would find some solace in the touch.

Lord Elrond continued, “It must be taken deep into Mordor and cast back into the fiery chasm from whence it came.” Your heart was hammering in your chest at the realization. This would be no easy task for anybody let alone a Hobbit and human group, “One of you, must do this.” Lord Elrond commanded sending your head into so many different directions. Would Strider go? Would the Hobbits? Surely you would never be able to go. No, Strider would never allow it. He had made that very clear.

Boromir sighed, “One does not simply walk into Mordor. It’s Black Gates are guarded by more than just Orcs. There is evil there that does not sleep. The Great Eye is ever watchful. It is a barren wasteland riddled with fire, and ash, and dust. The very air you breathe is a poisonous fume. Not with 10,000 men could you do this. It is folly.”

Legolas was angry now. He shot up from his seat spitting his words at the man, “Have you heard nothing Lord Elrond has said? The Ring must be destroyed.”

Gimli spoke up next, “And I suppose you think you are the one to do it!” The tension grew in the air as everyone began to feel uneasy of the task at hand.

Boromir stood next, “And if we fail, what then? What happens when Sauron takes back what is his?”

Gimli continued, “I will be dead before I see the Ring in the hands of an Elf!” He shouted. Your eyes went wide as everything seemed to be going away from the goal at hand, “Never trust an Elf!”

The group erupted in bickering as you and Frodo sat back in fear of what was going to happen. All but suddenly you watched as Frodo stood. He shouted, “I will take it.” It took him a few attempts before the group heard him.

“I will take the Ring to Mordor.” He said again once everyone had quieted down. You gulped as you watched the scene unfold.

He spoke again, “Though, I do not know the way.”

Gandalf nodded, “I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins as long as it is yours to bear.”

You sat further back into your chair as you watched Strider stand, “If by my life or death I can protect you I will.” Your heart sunk at his words. He caught your forlorn gaze and gave you a simple smile. He walked to Frodo and knelt before the small Hobbit, “You have my sword.”

Legolas stepped forward, “And you have my bow.” Your heart raced seeing the elf walk forward. Thank goodness he volunteered. You had heard stories of the mighty elf warrior of Mirkwood.

“And my ax.” Gimli agreed as he walked towards the growing group. You stood from your spot away from the group, closer towards Lord Elrond. Almost as if you had already known your assigned fate.

Boromir joined slowly, “You carry the fates of us all, little one. If this is indeed the will of the Council then Gondor will see it done.” He stood by the group.

Suddenly the other hobbits joined in earning a hard-earned smile from Lord Elrond.

“Nine companions. So be it. You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring.” You watched as Elrond anointed the group complete. Your downcast eyes found Striders who looked at you with all the care in the world. You were more than nervous for the man you had grown so fond of so quickly. Dare you say you might actually have real genuine feelings for the man standing in the group of nine.

“The journey is no place for a lady.” Strider insisted as he pulled you away from the fellowship. He had conjured up a hundred scenarios in his mind and decided you could not come after seeking the guidance of Gandalf. It was far too dangerous for someone as delicate as you were. He shuddered at the thought of seeing you with a sword far too big for you trying your best to defend not only yourself but the Hobbits from the Nazgul. He never wanted to see or put you in such a situation as that ever again.

Your look broke his heart ten times over. It is not like he wanted to leave you in Rivendell with the elves. He would do anything to take you, but it was just far too dangerous. The encounter with the Nazgul did it in enough for him to hold firm on the decision, “I’m not a lady Aragorn, and you know it! But I understand.” You countered but admitted your faults. You were nothing but a lowly peasant from a tiny village near Eriador. You didn’t mean much to middle earth, a place holder for whatever Valar had planned.

He twisted his head to the side giving you a once over and a sly smile, “Not yet anyway.” He walked towards you, stopping right in front of you. Wanting to say the next word so all the elves and Hobbits behind him couldn’t hear. Having to turn your head up to make eye contact he leaned forward and whispered in your ear, “I have every intention of making you one, my lady.”

Your eyes growing wide and the rosiness that formed on your neck and cheeks made the elves behind him laugh in unison amongst themselves. You noticed the confusion lining the Hobbits faces, no doubt wonder what he had said to you to illicit such a reaction.

You looked back to him with the hint of smile dancing on your lips, “They can hear you Strider.”

He brushed the pads of his fingers along your jawline, “Let them.” He had yet to be so forthcoming with his feelings so far. Sure, you had only known him a little over a week but you had not left his side since you met him. It had already felt so long ago. And when the heart knew it knew. It knew it had feelings for the handsome man with the most beautiful blue eyes that looked at you so kindly standing before you.

“Please be safe.” Your eyes welled with unshed tears as you accepted his command. You could not go along with them. You’d be nothing but the burden you so desperately wanted to avoid. But you also did not want to stay in Rivendell. The elves seemed welcoming enough but who knew how long he would have to be gone. You would surely overstay your welcome.

A curt nod came from the man you’d grown to love in such a short amount of time, “As you wish.” He moved his fingers to your eyes brushing away the tears that had managed to spill over, “Do not cry. I will be back as soon as I can.” The moment felt far too intimate to have the whole company trying not to watching but paying close attention anyway, they were not being sly about like they thought they were. They had all grown to adore you in some capacity, more some than others. Pippen was especially sad your journey had ended there. He had quite enjoyed getting to know you along the short trek from The Shire to Rivendell. You were unlike any other mortal he had met.

“I know. But you will find me in Bree.” You answered him letting the tears fall even as you tried your best to stop them.

He shook his head quickly, “No, you will stay here. In Rivendell. You will be protected here. Lord Elrond has assured me of that.” That sounded more like Aragorn than the Strider you knew. It hit you that the rightful King of Gondor was standing right in front of you. No wonder he had seemed so effortless in leading the group to Rivendell. It was in his blood.

“I do not belong here Aragorn.” You spoke in a plea muttering his actual name for just the second time. It still felt foreign, but you welcomed it on your tongue. Aragon, King of Gondor.

His eyes piqued up in utter curiosity at the sudden name change. You had seemed so adamant on continuing to call him by his Ranger name despite finding his true identity through Gandalf, “You can find an identity here my lady. Lord Elrond will not let that falter. Do you not believe me?” He frowned not enjoying seeing you in such a distressed state. He too had grown to have deep feelings for you. You were kind and compassionate. Smarter than you knew. Made him smile more than he ever had in his life in the short time he had known you. You kept him on his toes, and he adored that about you. He grew to like maybe even love you in mere days.

“I am a burden here. Useless. They will get sick of me.” You were pleading to him now. If you knew better you would not be pushing somebody of such high stature.

He gulped not knowing what to say. He could pick up on your stress through your expression and the way you picked at your fingernails. A habit he’d seen both at the Inn and when the group was attacked by the Nazgul. Just as he was about to open his mouth he heard Elrond from behind him. And bless him he thought for he had no idea how to calm your racing mind.

“Have you not enjoyed your stay here at Rivendell? Do you not wish to stay?” Lord Elrond spoke up after hearing the concerns you had spoken in private to Aragorn. He knew he likely should have just stayed quiet and let Aragorn handle the situation. But his overly sensitive ears could pick up the frantic panic in your voice towards the man.

You shook your head quickly, “No my lord. I wish to not be a burden to your home. You see I… I do not have much to offer your city.” You hung your head in shame hoping you did not fully insult Elrond. He had already been so kind to you.

“A burden?” He shook his head walking over to the two of you. All eyes still watching the interaction with the utmost curiosity, “You would hardly be a burden. I will be honest with you. With many of the elves planning to take to the sea I will need some help preparing. You will have a place here. Rest assured.”

A small sigh let out from your chest. Aragorn watched you intently with a bright smile on his face seeing the Elf relax your mind in mere moments. Leave it to Elrond to calm you down so easily. He needed to take a page or two from his book.

“Are you sure Lord Elrond?” You asked timidly to the much, much taller elf. Why’d they have to be so beautiful and intimidating at the same time?

He gave you a quick nod before turning, “I have already made up my mind child. Now let us go. The Fellowship has much planning to do before they are off in a few days.” He motioned for you to follow him.

You turned back to Aragorn before you left, “I wish you luck. I will see you soon. Be safe.” Taking a risk, you grabbed for his hand giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Anything for you my lady.” You caught the brief wink he had given you before bowing his head.

You walked over to the rest of the group, “I wish you all nothing but the best. Please take care of each other. I want to see you all when this is over. Yea?” Your voice broke at the end.

The Hobbits crowded around you giving you one last hug, “We will take your word to heart Lady Y/N.” Pippen smiled as he hugged your side.

“I am no lady.” You laughed once more. Where had they all gotten this ridiculous notion from?

“That’s not what Legolas told us.” Frodo smirked while looking over at Aragorn was deep in conversation with Boromir not paying a lick of attention to the goodbyes you were giving. It hurt him just as much as it was hurting you so he distracted himself with the other man in the Fellowship.

Your eyes found the blonde elf who attempted to feign innocence for the second time that afternoon, “You are a rightful menace Legolas.” You muttered to him almost finding enjoyment out of his butting in.

He shrugged innocently, “I am not sure what you are talking about Lady Y/N.”

You smiled shaking your head while giving each Hobbit a quick squeeze, “Good luck Legolas. Please watch out for him?” Your request may have been too much for the elf and you knew it. A big ask that you would have never of done had you not fallen for him so quickly.

But he agreed, “You have my word, my lady.” He smirked sensing your aversion to the formality you so desperately tried to avoid.

A quick shake of the head and you went off to follow Elrond you was waiting for you patiently in the distance, “I will see you all soon.” You waved, not waiting for their response as it felt to be too much in the moment. It amazed you

“Thank you for your hospitality Lord Elrond.” You said quickly once you caught up to the dark-haired elf.

He gave you what you was sure was a genuine smile, “It brings me a great pleasure to host you Lady Y/N.”

Your mouth gaped, “Is he forcing you to say that?” Surely you were going to have to get used to the title if Elrond had agreed to it. It would be shameful to try and correct the ruler of the land. Even you had some semblance of sanity and preservation.

Elrond shook his head quickly. He gave you a serious expression, one that you were not used to seeing from elf, “Aragorn is the rightful heir to the Throne of Gondor. We recognize the title here in Rivendell. I respect what he wishes. If he has given you that title you should wear that as a badge of honor.”

“You think so?” You thought you might have been pressing your luck with the lord. But he had the patience of somebody you had never met before. He was like no human you knew even if he was half of it.

If he was offended at your questioning he hid it well. A small smile adorned his features as he led you down the path to an empty room in the castle he had placed you in earlier, “I know so. When you have been around as long as I. You tend to notice these small things.”

He stopped in front of a door you had not been privy too in your prior explorations, “Your quarters for the time being. I had Nimloth move your belongings from your previous room to here. I suspect you will find it adequate.”

Your eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets when he opened the massive wood doors. The most intricate carvings of wood was placated on every surface of the room. The detail and craftsmanship was beyond anything you had seen in your tiny little village. You ran your fingers along the different sets of furniture admiring the fine detail that was crafted into every surface, “More than adequate Lord Elrond. Thank Nimloth for me?” You asked after finding all your belongings neatly put away.

He bowed to you. An elf bowed to you! What had this life become? Once so lost now you were somebody a lord found pleasure in conversing with.

“I will see to it. She will fetch you for dinner as well. Welcome to Rivendell.” Without waiting for a response, he shut the doors behind him letting you be with your thoughts. And oh, were they racing beyond your wildest measure.

It had been 414 days since Aragorn and the Fellowship had set out to destroy the ring. You refused to give up any sort of hope as you heard bits and pieces of information from Lord Elrond. You had grown close to elf in your stay at Rivendell. He had given you sage life advice time and time again. You were there for him when Arwen and his sons went off to sea not to be seen again until he were to take his trip. You knew he was utterly lonely and wanting nothing more than to go be with his wife and children. But he had a duty to middle earth that he would see too. He would see that the age of man had a true leader in Aragorn to guide peace and prosperity forward. He knew the age of elf was done and good. Frodo just had to finish it by destroying the ring.

You were sitting in the study reading a text in Sindarin, Lord Elrond had taught you enough of the language to get by, when you heard the doors to the study open with a loud thud. You set the text down on the desk as you peaked your head towards the door.

“Lady Y/N?” Lord Elrond’s voice called out.

You stood from your chair, “Yes my lord?” You caught him smiling ear to ear at the front of the study. A giddy feeling of shock shot throughout your body in anticipation for what might come next.

“They are back.”

You felt like your heart might have actually stopped beating there for a second, “Aragorn?” You asked breathlessly.

“Alive and well. Come.” He motioned you to follow him just like he had all those days ago when you first got to Rivendell.

When you spotted him out in the courtyard you did not give a second thought about being a lady anymore. You all out sprinted to the man who had consumed you whole in his time away. He wrapped you in his arms once you ran right into his chest. Letting out a small grunt from the impact he started laughing. A full-on belly laugh rang out from the man as he held you in his arms once more.

“You came back.” You felt the tears forming in your eyes as you buried yourself in his chest.

He held you in his arms as tightly as he could relishing in the moment of just being there with you, “I gave you my word, my lady. Did I not?” He pulled you back so he could look at you. Ethereal. Rivendell had been nothing but good to you he concluded. He would have to thank Lord Elrond for being so hospitable towards the one he had loved.

“You did. Thank you.” You grasped him a little tighter as he clinged onto you just the same.

You gasped opening the letter from the Shire, “Sam and Rose!” You ran over to Aragorn with a gleeful smile on your face, “Look, they are to be wed in six months! Long after you are crowned King. I would like to go.”

“Ahh, finally.” Aragorn grabbed the letter from your hand with a smile on his face. You admired him as he read the joyous news of the union. He was so handsome. And he was soon to be crowned King of Gondor, Gandalf had shared with the group the night they came back. He was due to be crowned in two months’ time in Minas Tirith. It gave time for all parties to travel to the desired destination to see the rightful heir be crowned king.

“I was worried he would never go for it. We shall go if you will have me?” Aragorn noted as he smoothed out the robes for tomorrow’s crowning. He had felt more nervous of the thought of proposing to you than he was about being crowned King. Valar calm his nerves.

“Aye. I would love to go with you Aragorn. But is that so? Had he been shy about her?” You asked your love that you were almost afraid to admit to.

He nodded recalling all the time Samwise made comments about the Hobbit he had loved from afar, “He was never the most risk adverse. I think the journey changed him.”

“Yea.” You nodded, “It was good for him.”

He nodded his head. His soft expression hardening just a tinge as he took you in, “You are so beautiful. When I did not think that I was going to make it… the thought of you kept me going. I am so honored to have you by my side.”

You leaned your head back into his chest letting the sun beat down on the two of you as he had helped you prepare for the journey to his rightful home. He had been to Minas Tirith many times before, but never as the King. He was overjoyed at the thought of bringing you to his home. He was not lying before when he promise to make you his lady. He was planning to wed to you not too long after he was crowned King.

“It is my honor Aragorn.” You felt him squeeze his hand along your waist.

He had taken you to his new home by horse. Just the two of you heading to his Kingdom. He wanted to spend the time with you and get to know you. And he was more than glad he did. He did not think it to be possible, but he had fallen more deeply in love with you on the month-long trek to Gondor. It had solidified what he had planned to do, propose to you as soon as he was crowned King. He had gotten Lord Elrond in on the plan as well. Surely, you would be more than irritated at the public display, but he knew you would soon get over it.

Your eyes lit up in amazement at the city that had spring up before you once you had finally made it after a little over a month on the road. It was more massive than even Rivendell had been. You had no idea such structures existed within the human world and was slightly ashamed you knew so little about your very own brethren.

“Welcome to Minas Tirith my lady.” A breathy whisper in your ear he watched below as you took in the city.

“This is… incredible Aragon.” Your eyes traveled everywhere in awe as he rode up the main street on his horse. You were pleasantly surprised at all the greetings even you were getting from all the citizens that resided within the city.

He led you straight to the castle at the center of the city knowing you were probably more than overwhelmed. Sure, he had warned you but actually seeing it and doing it was entirely different thing. He bowed to his guards as he made his way to his, and soon to be your, chambers.

“You will sleep here tonight.” He said matter of factly as you explored his chambers.

You shook your head, “I cannot. This is your room. You need to rest before tomorrow! You are being crowned King. That does not happen every day Aragorn.” You protested but he simply shook his head.

“It is all right.” He led you to his bed, “I insist my lady. I have made up my mind and you will not be able to change it.” He grinned beautifully as you sat down on the bed, accepting defeat so easily.

“So stubborn you are.”  You mused at him with a delighted look on your face. It felt like a step was being taken as he insisted you stay in his quarters. Protected by the best of the best. He saw you as nothing but precious to him.

He chucked softly, “I must leave you to it. Feel free to explore. One of the guards can show you around if you would like. I must see to a few things before tomorrow. I will see you after the ceremony?” He asked watching you carefully. He wanted you to be comfortable before he left you. He knew it would be tough to go a night without each other after spending so much alone for the better part of a month.

“All right.” You nodded quickly, “I will see you tomorrow, my King.” You grinned right back at him knowing you would never tire of calling him that. It was a far cry from the Strider you had met so long ago now.

He brushed his hand along your jaw. Giving you a brief bow, he spoke once more, “My lady.” Before walking out his chambers and leaving you too it. A wave of exhaustion coupled by the softness of the mattress below you sent you into a slumber much sooner than you were expecting. Maybe you would get the grand tour another time. For now, sleep overtook you..

You watched in awe as Gandalf crowned Aragorn with amazement in his own eyes. You had truly never seen anything so grandeur in your life. All this for your Aragorn. Yet, you felt he had deserved this and so much more.

“Now come the days of the King.” Gandalf’s voice boomed throughout Minas Tirith as thousands stood to watch Aragorn be crowned. You felt your eyes well up with proud tears as the crown laid atop his head. He was so striking. So Kingly. Your breath was taken away as he turned to the crowd. He was your King.

“This day does not belong to one man… but to all.” His voice now boomed filling your chest with the utmost pride for the man you loved, “Let us together rebuild this world… that we may share in the days of peace.” He smiled as the crowd erupted in cheers for their newly crowned King. You joined in happily clapping and cheering along with the city folk.

He sang as the flower petals began to fall. You watched as his company and all those around him bowed to him as he walked amongst the crowd. Your heart sped up rapidly as he was moving along closer, and closer to you.

Elrond pulled you back behind a shield at your protest as Legolas stepped forward. Being none the wiser you shot your elder a precarious look as he told you to be quiet and wait a second and you would see what was going on. He did not lie to you. Lord Elrond never did.

The elf beside you pulled the shield away leaving you staring right into the icy blue eyes of the man you had loved so dearly. You gulped but stepped towards him. He looked just as entranced as you felt.

Feeling overwhelmed at the entirely of the situation you bowed your head to your King once you were mere inches in front of him. Never before had so many eyes been on you. Yet he had made it feel like it really was just the two of you at that moment.

He would have none of that though. He took his hand under your chin and pulled it up, so you were looking at him. He too forgot that thousands of people were watching. It felt like it was just you and him. You had that effect on him. Your doe eyes staring up at him so desperately is what did him in. He could simply wait no longer to have what he wanted… you.

When you smiled at him he did not care any longer. He went straight in for the kiss. You wrapped your arms around him as he spun you around, happier than ever before. He had let his intentions be known. You were his for forever, his forever.

You would be embarrassed later but now it was just you and him. A giggle erupted from you as you hugged him once more. He grabbed your hand and pulled you along as he went to search for the Hobbits.

You took a knee after Aragorn spoke, “My friends… you bow to no one.” A smile erupted on your face as you watched the kingdom take a knee for them. Frodo’s face told the story. Aragorn gently wiped off the tears that were streaming down your face.

“I love you, my Queen.” He whispered in your ear.

“Your Queen?” You gasped looking up to him. Surely you did not think you would take

“Are we to be wed no?” He asked curiously.

“Aye.” You nodded, “I just did not believe to have such a title.” You looked away from him as he directed everyone to stand once more.

“I am King. You are to be my Queen.” He said so matter of factly you could not believe you were questioning yourself.

“As you wish.” You smiled so gleefully not truly believing this was actually your life now.

He leaned in for one more gentle kiss to please the crowd, “My Queen.” He whispered letting you know he had every good intention in the world with you. For the first time in his already long life, he could not wait to get his life started with you.

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[asha-mage]

One thing I can't stop thinking about ever since I finished Awakening is Robin's mother.

Because can you imagine the courage, the strength of will it must have taken to steal away her son from Plegia? To flee?

She was raised her whole life to believe in Grima, in the teachings of the Grimleal, she watched her country burn from the Crusades fought by Ylisse- watched Plegians slaughtered for their faith, watched their country impoverished and occupied. It's easy to imagine her as someone who hated Ylisse, who was a fervent believer in Grima, who leapt at the chance to help continue the Fell Dragon's bloodline with Validar.

And then imagine her laying there after the birth, holding her infant son marked with symbol of Grima and realizing that none of that mattered, not in the least bit beside this tiny life, beside her son. Her son who is their prophesied chosen one, who is the hope of generations of Plegians- who is destined to be the vessel of the Fell Dragon, the herald of the end of days, the bringer of vengeance on their enemies, the remaker of earth. Their messiah. Her messiah.

And it doesn't matter. Because it will mean his death. She dosen't want the rapture if it means he has to be sacrificed to bring it about, she don't want him to be the messiah because she knows that means one day he will be crucified.

And so she runs. She takes her infant son from the cradle and leaves behind everything she has ever known, and everything that might have been- a life as the mother of the messiah, a life of status and riches and comfort- and she goes to the one place the Grimleal will never think to look for them. She goes to Ylisse, where the armies still recall the screams of her people, where the faithful of Naga would cut her son down if they knew the least part of what he was. And she raises him there in secret, for twenty years living in hiding in the country of her enemies, because it's the only place her son will be safe. Because she loves him to much to let him be doomed by fate.

What must it have felt like one day, when he walked out the door and never came home? Did she search for him? Did she fear that the Grimleal had found them at last? Did she hear what happened at Southtown and wonder if he was among the dead: if all that, if twenty years of hiding and running and living in secret- had all ended in nothing more then a random bandit attack and bad luck? Or did she refuse to believe any such thing? Did she keep searching, keep wandering, unable to believe that the prophesied messiah would meet such a ignominious end?

What must if felt like when she heard that Plegia was going to war with Ylisse? Did she consider going back to the country she had abandoned, the people she had betrayed? Did she regret for a moment, that they would not have the vessel of Grima to lend them his strength?

And after the war what must it have been like, for every bell in Ylisstol to be ringing with victory, the new Exalt King riding back fresh from the field of battle, leading the triumphant procession of his soldiers....and beside him is her boy. Shoulder to shoulder, knee to knee as they ride side by side through the streets. Her boy with his silver hair and bright eyes gazing up at the Exalt King, the son of the man who crusaded against his mother country, with such love and devotion in his eyes as few people have ever witnessed. Was she happy? Disgusted? Horrified? Scared for him? Did it click then, the wild tales of the amnesiac strategist that the Shepherds had found in a field- rumors that had begun around the same time her boy had vanished?

Did she ever think about coming forward? When the wedding was announced? When Lucina's birth (her granddaughter, blood of Grima and Naga both, but her granddaughter first) was declared? When war broke out with Valm and her boy took command of the armies marching to defend Ylisse?

And why didn't she come forward? Did she fear sparking him to remember if they met again? Did she fear bringing out the truth with her mere presence? Shattering the strange fairy tale her son had stumbled into? Did she fear what the Exalt King would do if he learned his beloved groom was Plegian, let alone the blood of the Fell Dragon? What would happen to her granddaughter if the faithful of Naga learned she had both the Exalt's brand the blood of Grima? Did she stay in hiding to protect them both, even as the dead ravaged the land and the end of days drew closer, praying for her boy to find whatever happiness he could while he could?

Did she watch the Grimleal march to the Table and know the end she had struggled against had come? Did she see that massive dragon rise from across the horizon and know despair? Did she watch it die, it's skeleton fall to the earth, and grieve, even as the rest of the world cheered and sang of their salvation? Did she walk to that great corpse and weep from the need to lay hands on her son one more time- only to see others crying around the dragon's skull- the Shepherds not triumphant but mourning, calling out for Robin hoping against hope that he still lived? Did Chrom spot her, like a ghost, a phantom, on the horizon, just for a moment before she was gone again?

Did she go back to their hidden home, the place they had lived in secret among their enemies....and find a boy laying on her doorstep with his silver hair and bright eyes but no cursed mark upon his hand? Did Robin find his way back in that moment, to the connection he had forgotten, the mother who saved him from being raised to be a lamb for slaughter?

Did he open his eyes, and with Grima gone, finally remember her?

[voidsylus]

sylus reading to us poetry on a snowy night

sylus team loves to remind us of his myth especially when the poem explores the bittersweet nature of fleeting moments of our shared love in our dragon days and the profound longing that follows to current timeline

“we part and meet, again and again-heavy hearts with little laid bare. the weight in my chest is hard to name, while your doubts fill the air. in this fleeting moment, freedom's wings are bound. and that moment has long since vanished, never to be found. like lightning that strikes and is gone in a breath, like fine snow falling to a river, meeting its death... like light pouring over the tide, only to be swallowed where shadows hide... how can I witness and hold such beauty once more...? if I were to bury my heart within your sweet lips..."

time to dissect the poem

the line “heavy hearts with little laid bare, the weight in my chest is hard to name " goes back to sylus for two reason: his own realization that he fell in love with his ender and that either one of them will kill each other because of his own dragon instincts kicking in. however only sylus knew the outcome of this situation and chose to sacrifice himself than his beloved

“freedom's wings" can be taken literally and figuratively. despite sylus knowing the sanctuary are using us to get to him, he still flew down to save us knowing it was a trap. but that didn’t matter to him because by that time he knew the hour has come for us to part

“like light pouring over the tide, only to be swallowed where shadows hide...” thus comes in the title for sylus myth: where the drake shadows fall, the rampage has begun and the prophecy was unfolding. the time has begun where we subconsciously awakened claymore within us and we stabbed him in his heart

“how can I witness and hold such beauty once more...?” during our final hours where we apologized so much and that we never wanted this to happen, it was all too late. he is in our arms as his heart slowly stopped beating and all we can do is watch

“if I were to bury my heart within your sweet lips” and the last thing we could do is push our forehead down for sylus to give us one last kiss— the way we taught him how to express love as he left the world with his soul smelling like flowers

during all this we snuggled into sylus arms, we comment on his beautiful way to tell us poetry— the same dragon who couldn’t recognize music and rhythm. the very last thing sylus did was help us get into a comfortable position and kiss our forehead good night— just as we taught him

yes i cried while watching and writing this

[niobiumao3]

So, here's what X-Men 97 did that TBB did not, for its main character death. Obviously, huge X-Men 97 and TBB spoilers.

The death happens at a pivotal moment story wise, but is NOT immediately abandoned for other plot.

Remy (Gambit) dies towards the end of an episode which is in and of itself a real jaw-dropper, much like Plan 99. Out of nowhere a safe haven for mutants is being glassed, and Remy sacrifices himself to put a stop to it, because he's a little crazy but also well aware of what he's capable of and knows it might be their only chance to save SOME of these people who are his fellow mutants. The episode ends with his lover, Rogue--who's finally decided she agrees with Remy on things and is going to choose him and the X-Men over an alternative--holding his lifeless body in her arms.

Tech, on the other hand, dies 1/3 into an episode and vanishes from sight. Our POV character here, Omega, is injured and doesn't witness most of the ensuing escape, so when she wakes up, she demands they go back for him, crying, and we see Wrecker cry and Hunter explain he didn't make it.

...and then the episode keeps going. They're betrayed. A villain tosses Tech's broken goggles at Hunter and threatens them. Omega is captured, the remaining members of the Batch barely escape. For almost twenty minutes of runtime AFTER Tech dies, the story keeps going and has NOTHING to do with him dying (save the dig about the goggles). His death gets maybe, at most, 2 entire minutes of focus between Omega and Wrecker's reactions, Hunter's when Hemlock gives him the goggles, and Echo looking at the empty pilot's chair. That's it; for the bulk of the episode Tech's death has next to ZERO involvement in the story. It's not the climax. it's just A Thing Which Happened, and that massively devalues it from a narrative viewpoint. No one stops for more than a single breath to react to it, thus we as the audience don't.

(If anyone is winding up with 'that's because they can't due to the everything', this is why it's NOT GOOD WRITING. If you want the death to matter to your viewers/audience then you need to MAKE the time for it in your story, somehow. This isn't real life, you DO in fact control the horizontal and the vertical when making your plot.)

In X-Men 97, the death is the immediate focus of the next episode and a character's entire arc of the ensuing episodes. In TBB, it's a footnote.

In the following X-Men 97 episode, Remy has a funeral which Rogue doesn't attend, not because she doesn't care but because she's off raging against the machines, trying to find those responsible and kill them. There's a gorgeous eulogy for Remy, some thinking back on who he was and what he meant to them, a friend angry at Rogue for not being with them. It's so good. We cut to Rogue, absolutely furious with grief and looking to take it out on, well, everyone. She winds up putting herself into a coma as a result.

Literally nothing like this happens for Tech. Nothing close. There's a several month timeskip in S3 eps 1-3 which negates any immediate mourning or revelations to people who wouldn't know (Crosshair, Phee, Shep and Lyana), and we see NONE of Wrecker, Hunter, OR Echo's processing. Just what we saw in Plan 99, which again, is almost nothing. For a main character who as of S2 had the third most screen time of any character.

In X-Men 97, Remy keeps coming up as someone to remind them of what they're fighting for, what he would want for them. Tech is a skillset and a pair of goggles.

Remy is the first thing on Rogue's mind when she wakes up from her coma. She's instantly grieving him all over again, and mentions him numerous times throughout the remaining episodes as someone who wouldn't want this for them, or would have hoped for that. He's a guide for her even though he's gone. The rest of the characters reflect on him off and on--not his skills or abilities, but who he was, his nature. Remy's death completely changes Rogue's behaviors, almost 180 degrees, as well.

Tech is mentioned for what he could do, not what he liked or didn't like, how he felt about things, save for once: when Phee reveals he told her all about Crosshair. This is the only time someone talks about him like people talk about Remy in X-Men 97, and it happens twelve episodes after he died.

No one's actual narrative course changes trajectory in the case of Tech's death either. No one is shown making different decisions based on his loss (just the lack of his skills), no one is bringing him up as a rallying call for themselves, nothing. He is excised from the show in terms of his emotional, character impact. The loss is of someone who can decrypt things or knows stuff, not of a beloved sibling.

Remy's presence remains throughout the rest of X-Men 97, despite him dying in episode 5 of 10. Tech vanishes and becomes an occasional reason they have to do something the hard way and a background prop.

If you want to know how to actually write a main character death and have it MATTER and make it good story telling, watch X-Men 97.

[otherwordlyanathema]

GOJO SATORU X F!READER

DESCENT INTO INSANITY

Wherein Gojo Satoru is the anchor that keeps you sane.

A/N: Currently crying because of Leaks 😭

'Satoru is dead?'

Y/N couldn't wrap her head around it. One minute he was standing triumphant after annihilating the majority of Shinjuku with his Hallow Purple, the next thing they knew; Sukuna had disembodied him in half.

Everyone was silent.

The situation changed drastically that they couldn't wrap their head around it.

Gojo's students were in anguish.

Y/N watched as Kashimo jumped down as the next contender against Sukuna.

"No! No!" she mumbled, frantically. "Satoru's body is still there..."

It was Hakari who first sprung into action, dashing towards where Kashimo and Sukuna are clashing and narrowly dodging being cut as he took Gojo's body from the battlefield. Returning back to the others, he laid the Special Grade down in front of his lover.

Y/N was a Special Grade in her own right. She was often overlooked because she allowed Gojo's brightness to shine and allowed herself to stay in the background.

Nobody knew how destructive she could be. She was kept in check because Satoru made her happy. Happy and contented enough that she could keep her unstable powers at bay.

Choked sobs escaped from her throat at the sight of Satoru's body.

It hurt like nothing she experienced before. Seeing him bloodied.

From beside her, Shoko knelt down placing a hand where Gojo was cleaved. With her Reverse Cursed Technique, she healed the skin to reattach despite not knowing what it would do. She figured Y/N deserved to see Satoru as she met him.

'I don't know if Satoru could come back from this but at least this gives him a fighting chance.' Shoko thought, sadly looking at her annoying friend.

Y/N let out a heartbroken scream which broke the heart of the spectators of the Battle of the Strongest.

Kneeling down beside Satoru, her hand caressed his blood stained hair and she wiped the blood on his lips with her sleeve. Her hands covered his once bright Six-Eyes that she loved so much as she moved them closed.

'Satoru did not deserve this. He had done so much only to end up like this.' Y/N thought, bitterly. 'You don't know how much I wanted to shelter you from this world you did so much to uphold order.'

Something else had taken root inside of Y/N.

They said death of a beloved makes you numb.

Not in her case.

Her entire being screamed revenge.

Shoko's eyes widened as her gaze drifted to Y/N. Her friend's Cursed Energy was pulsing dangerously. "Y/N what..."

Y/N's leaking Cursed Energy caused everyone to wince at how intense it was.

"Y/N stop! You'll manifest a curse like this!" Shoko scolded, attempting to get the female to calm down.

To their surprise, the female vanished before one of Mei Mei's crows had spotted Y/N levitating above where the clash of Sukuna and Kashimo were currently happening.

'And here comes the numbness they were talking about during grief.' Y/N thought, mustering up her Cursed Energy at maximum output as her eyes took on a crazed look.

'What good has being good done me? None. I'm done being good. The world is about to witness how bad I can be.'

---FLASHBACK---

"Aren't you tired, love?" Y/N asked an exhausted Gojo, who just returned from a solo mission.

His eyes brightened even more at the sight of the female cooking. He bounded towards her and wrapped his arms around her waist, burying his head in the crook of her neck. "I am. But I do it for you and the kids. I think that's enough of an incentive to keep going."

Her eyes widened at his statement and how serious he actually seemed. "I want to be able to protect you too. Or at the very least be a sanctuary where you can actually relax and let your guard down."

His only response was a smile, inhaling her scent that never fails to make him content. 'You already do. Coming home to you is sanctuary enough.'

---END FLASHBACK---

"What is life without you, Satoru?" She murmured before a maniacal look came on her once angelic features. "What use is this world without you?"

Her Cursed Energy continued emerging from her, fueled by her desire to destroy it all. It manifested into a huge black sphere of condensed Cursed Energy, ready to raze anything in its path.

She's slowly realizing she wasn't meant to save the world, rather to watch it burn.

"Watch me burn this world for what it has done to you, Satoru."

[twst-drabbles]

Mozus 1

Summary: Being in Noble Bell College brings out the nostalgia in Mozus. You want him to continue. You like hearing him talk about his wife.

(I was going to write about Rollo since it seemed appropriate, but Mozus took place in my brain instead.)

“And while she never witnessed the bell, she was always enchanted by its sound,” Mozus’s voice was soft in the way one cups a flower blooming in the soft frost of winter: delicately, yet still filled with the strength of love.

“Oh? Tell me more,” you couldn’t help but lean into his view with an exaggerated stretch of your spine, arms gripped behind your back. “Remember, you promised me more stories about her, Mozus.”

Mozus didn’t twitch nor lose any gram of composure. His back was still straight, but it seemed as though gravity added weight to his shoulders. “I remember well. Though I must ask, why are you so interested about such a subject?”

“Because you practically grow twenty years younger whenever you talk about your wife,” it wasn’t a radiant glow so much as it was a gentle light that bloomed from within Mozus’s heart, blanketing his shoulders in a shroud of dancing spring air, “it’s very sweet, seeing how much you love her so. Of course I want to hear you talk about your fond memories all day.”

It was a rare thing to witness from Mozus, so of course you want him to continue speaking of those years, so as long as it doesn’t hurt him. He may be an older gentlemen, and while you don’t have a clue as to what age he became a widower, to lose his wife before the age of sixty seemed far too young to lose a loved one. When you hear of stories of old couples dying, you imagine their backs curved, hands knobby and skin slack with laugh lines so deep in their faces their eyes practically vanish, and yet the twinkle in them is still there.

You don’t know the amount of years that have past after Mozus’s wife’s death, but it seems to have been enough for him to have come to terms with his grief, to speak of her memory, both good and bad.

Perhaps it was too casual an action, lightly tapping your elbow on his arm to goad him into talking more stories, but there’s something about Mozus that you just can’t help but want to be a bother him a bit. And you’re happy when you heard that tired gruff of a sigh come out of him, like you’re an insistent kid from the playground that wanted to listen to stories instead of being on the monkey bars.

“Be patient,” Mozus shook his head but it wasn’t a verbal ‘no,’ “I’ll make do on my promise, but right now we’re on Noble Bell College’s campus, and we’d do well to listen to the years of history embedded within the walls and minds of the students here.”

“Gotcha gotcha,” you straightened yourself out, disappointed but not surprised, “I’ll be sure to remind you if you do forget. You lost that game of cards after all.”

He won’t, you’re sure of it, but you may as well give him a warning in advance that you’re going to be a bother until you get those stories.

Perhaps it was dirty of you to do that, coaxing Mozus into an old card game that just so happened to be relevant to the era he was teaching to Ace, Deuce and Grim, but you had gotten the cards as a gift from one of your faerie buddies and you couldn't pass up the opportunity that was presented to you.

Oh well, what can Mozus do besides complete his promise? Besides, he didn't say no to your request. You bet he does want to talk about her as much as you want to hear about it. Otherwise, why would he indulge you?

See, this is why Mozus is probably your favorite out of all your co-workers, barring his strict conduct.

[docnomore]

Pretty sure it’s COVID. So let’s talk science, history, statistics, politics and facts. It’s got me a little rattled. I’ve had COVID at least once before. I slept 48 hours, dealt with flavorless food for a week and it was gone. The incubation period was a little over a week. This time, I presumably got it from Mrs. Doc who came down with it first. Within 12 hours both I and our youngest got it. We may all have been exposed at the same time, given her weakened immune state. Hard to say. But 12 hours is lightning fast. I then gave it to an employee. I try to never breathe on people, as I have a thing about being breathed upon. Still, standing shoulder to shoulder with him, within 48 hours he got it.

Viral infections have no cure. No vaccine. A vaccine is made up of dead, crushed cell parts of the bacterium, injected into the host (you and me), it allows the bodies soldiers a snapshot of what to look for so when it sees it or any mart of it, it can isolate and destroy it. mRNA doesn’t do that at all. It modifies YOUR genetic markers, changing you, hopefully to be resistant to the virus. That in my not so expert opinion is a wildly dangerous theory that should NEVER have been tested on the population.

So, 12-48 hours incubation. Where else have we seen this? 1918 with the Spanish Flu. That too was a Corona/SARS virus. It was a naturally occurring hybrid of swine and avian flu. The incubation period was an estimated 12 hours. Diagnosed, the patient was dead within 12 hours. It attacked the young, vibrant and healthy. Starting with cold like symptoms, observers witnessed a plaque build up of White Blood Cells presenting as mucous on the back of the throat that quickly spread to the bronchioles rendering them worthless. The patients would turn a deep purple to black color and then, just prior to death, all of that mucous/WBC plaque would simply vanish. They literally suffocated. In 1918, the average daily death toll in Philadelphia was 426. That’s per day. Let that sink in.

From 1918-1926 the newly established Department of Public Health, along with the US Army and the insurance company Mutual of New York conducted a study. What they found was the wearing of (cloth) surgical masks did nothing to slow or abate the spread. Also, the imposition of quarantine was a death sentence for those not infected, living in the same residence.

The US government has had in its labs since 1967, COVID-19. It was by direction of Dr. Fauci, approved by President Obama that the bio weapons lab at Ft. Detrick be shut down and those agents/experiments be outsourced to among other places, Wuhan, China. That is China, a communist country/enemy of the US.

Dr. Fauci and Dr. Collins funded the Gain of Function research of COVID-19. There are two very similar definitions for the term Gain of Function. The civilian definition is that it is the ability to understand what makes a given virus/bacterium tick so that we can then either kill it or render it ineffective. Sounds good. The military definition is the same but the goal is to enhance its virulence all the while we can control/target it to a given enemy. Think mustard gas and gas masks in WW I.

Now, think back to 2020 when this thing sprang out of nowhere. No one stopped to ask how Dr. Fauci knew immediately what it was. Nor did anyone bother to question his constant reversals on whether or not wearing a mask was necessary. He just knew because he is smarter than the rest of us. At least, that is what we were told.

Immediately, the US Army deployed a Surgical Field Hospital to NYC. Dozens of refrigerator semi trailers were brought in as holding containers or the onslaught of dead that they were sure were coming. A month went by and due to great expense, having seen only 100 patients, none of who had COVID-19, the Army packed it in and went home. The CDC brought in Dr. Birx who changed the way we count Cause of Death. People who objected quit and were immediately silenced. No longer interested exclusively in COVID-19 as the Primary COD, we now actually paid hospital groups to test the dead for COVID-19. Literally, you could die in a horrific car crash, and post mortem be tested for, pop positive and then have that secondary, tertiary or ancillary finding become the Primary COD. Philadelphia 1918, 426 per day. Philadelphia 2020, you weed through and filter out the extraneous bull shit diagnoses and what you end up with is a probable 23 per month. A monumental intentional inflation of numbers. Now pay attention because here where federal law and policy matter.

In 2012 President Obama signed into law the new Smith-Mundt Modernization Act. That allows the government to pay “news” sources - like ABC, CBS, NBC, CNN, MSNBC, etc., to report propaganda pieces that can be patent lies. Now think fear mongering, suspension of inalienable rights, and the liberty to exercise those rights.

Federal law requires that there be no other known cure available, in a time of “national emergency” to suspend and waive requisite testing of new drugs or vaccines. There were again doctors: immunologists, who spoke out against mRNA and pointed to other drugs that could prove effective. Just like those at the CDC who opposed Dr. Birx, these experts were shut down, silenced and in several cases imprisoned.

Sound like “conspiracy theory”? Think twice. Look up nuclear testing on US military from 1946-1962. Having signed a record of non disclosure many went to their graves carrying that secret. That non disclosure was finally lifted in 1996. MK Ultra, The Tuskegee Experiments, etc.. Would the Democrats diabolically unleash this upon the world to rid themselves of Trump? Both Charles Schwab and Bill Gates insist this is exactly what happened - and they are both in favor of it. I’m not saying the Democrats did this, I’m only looking at history, their party history. Figure the odds. And so many want to turn healthcare over to these monsters?

[mindovermuses]

Something has been tickling the back of my brain ever since we were given a glimpse of the gods in Downfall that I think is starting to come together into some sort of coherent thought process. But I'll we'll see how coherent it is once I've brain dumped it here onto the page I guess...

Most of the gods we've met are children.

Barely filtered ramblings ahead. You've been warned.

Go back and re-watch the opening of Downfall with them on Tengar. See how they run around and play like young children, naive to the world around them. How an elder of their race thought it such a fun thing to take Aru and any of their friends out to the orchard to witness a new tree coming into being. Is that an activity one would do with an adult or a curious child?

How, when Edun disappeared and the world started to disappear as well, other NPCs appeared at their sides, taking charge and telling them not to worry, they'll bring Edun back... before vanishing themselves. The gods/children had no understanding of anything that was happening but other, more mature-sounding characters seemed less lost in the moment.

The former god of death, Nahal, had probably just reached adulthood and that's why they could feel the dread the other adults seemed to sense and why they weren't running and playing. It's probably also part of why the Matron of Ravens was able to ascend to their godly position. Reaching full adulthood and understanding, maybe he chose to seek out oblivion and leave her as his chosen heir.

Given their timeless natures and how they were made into real, immortal beings... who knows how long it would take for them to emotionally mature, especially with no healthy adults of their kind there to guide them.

Can't you just look at some of their decisions and actions in the past and see the subtle nods to a toddler or young child playing make believe or not getting what they want and throwing a tantrum? It wouldn't be a one-for-one match to a child as we know them, but similar none-the-less.

Forsaking their godly abilities and living as humans for a while probably helped them to "grow up" more than anything else as well as finally accepting the Matron of Ravens as more of an equal. They learned first-hand how their actions and in-actions have consequences and that they had been speaking for and making decisions for life on Exandria without considering that they should have a say in things as well. Their puppet playthings are just as real as they are and are driven by the same emotions that they, as the gods, are.

I don't think the gods have fully reached adulthood for their kind just yet- some may be closer than others though. They're still, for the most part, those same scared little children in the orchard of possibilities watching everything they've ever known and loved be taken from them. Watching the only place they've ever known as home be swallowed up by something they didn't understand.

What happened may have been a completely normal thing for Tengar but not something they would have told young children about because they didn't believe they would understand yet. In a panic, the oldest of the children did their best to collect their siblings and escape what they saw as certain doom... but what if it wasn't? What if it was? No one can know for certain (except Matthew Mercer, that is...).

Maybe Predathos was the result of the adults of their world's hubris coming back to destroy them and THEY were the airship of children from Avalir or young Hallis from Aeor who were able to escape and survive the calamity their peoples brought down upon themselves. (Wonder if young Hallis grew up and studied necromancy while building himself a happy little spherical domain? Nah...)

Then again, maybe Predathos doesn't kill the gods it absorbs. Maybe it was a security system to protect Tengar and it sends them to be with the rest of their people and their lost home. Of course, if this is the case, there's always the possibility that perhaps, by choosing to become real to escape along with other later actions, they can no longer travel in those dimensions.

I mean... it's kind of like if fifth dimensional beings took form and became fourth dimensional beings. Gods amongst the peoples they presided over. For a short time, they constrained their potential further and became three-dimensional mortals, but their mortal forms couldn't hold their greater power indefinitely and they re-emerged as their fourth-dimensional selves. But, once you've shaved off enough of yourself to become mortal... how can you possibly ascend back to your former fifth dimensional forms to go home again?

TL;DR: The gods are literally children and potentially unreliable narrators of their own histories because of it.

[cauldron-of-oddities]

"okay ummmm ideas

I have some angst

what if you have Jinx stalking Ekko and he thinks it's like because Silco told her to but it's because she killed one of his friends and feels guilty about it and, even if she can't admit it to herself, wants to make sure he's okay"

How dare you make me cry while writing 😭 @letters-to-rosie

So, angst practice it was.

The Way of Things 

It was the way of things - death. You got in the way of a bullet, a bomb, a spear, a bat, a knife, you'd be gone just like that. And it struck one of Ekko's.

The bomb went off right by the ally, the shockwave larger than expected or exactly as made. It was meant to do damage. It knocks some poor sod into a wall.

The blast rings in her ears, success! And then the crack of bone and a dull thud. A ragdoll falling to the floor and the shadow of deep red.

“It's the way of things. It's the way of things.” Silco's voice is cool and calming in her head. 

At least it seemed quick.

Shouts fill the air, some sound torn, others growling. The firelights scatter in the wake. Green lights vanish into the dark streets between the ramshackle houses. To regroup likely, to buzz around again. It's the way of things.

The delivery and the crates of shimmer trades from calloused scarred hands to sickly sticky hands. (She can't say Silco's associates are pleasant.) It's the way of things.

The office is dimly lit, a swirl of smoke from a recently snuffed cigar curling in the air. “Well done.”  It sounds deep, pleased, and praising. Silco affirms her, and it should sooth her. She did good, right? So why does it feel wrong? 

Out again in the hallway, the image of fading glow on the tip of the cigar changes to the retreating lights of the Firelights, and then she's there again. One shout echoed in her mind. A cracking “No!” The image of an owl masks and a bilowing green coat swooping down a hair's breadth too late and the smell of gunpowder in her nose. 

That's not the way of things. He and his have always somehow gotten away. 

She bites her lip, a pit forming in her stomach. The hallway seems too empty, the wrong place to be. Boy Saviour hadn't been in the right place either. She tastes metal on her tongue and sees the red stain again. She rocks from her heels to her toes and back agitation and guilt eating her and finally lets the thought through: Is Ekko alright? 

It won't help to stay here, so she makes her way back. To the roof above the croner of the alley and the eerie quiet street. Weren't there old legends about crossroads being the place of ghosts? She shudders and hears a sob. 

From above, hidden in the shadows, she sees him. His shoulders are slumped, a broken hoverboard on his lap, his own at his back. She moves a bit closer. There's just enough light to reflect off a tear, to see gloved hands clench around crushed metal and the scorch on the ground. 

Stupid Boy Saviour, doesn't he realise he's a sitting duck out here? Silently, she keeps vigil over him. Until his tears dry up, and he stills entirely. 

This is not the way of things. Ekko is bright, not hunched, withdrawn, and resigned. She wants to go to him, she can't go to him. Who would want the comfort of the monster that did this?

Her own eyes sting, and she fails to swallow the sob that escapes her. She slips down to the alley and hunches down between abandoned crates, closer but hidden.

It's the way of things: That she stays in the shadows. She wants to say something, but her voice is stuck in her throat. What would she say anyway. Another small sob escapes her. She's cursed, damned to hurt. A small move and a board by the crates clatters to the  ground, and Ekko's looking right at her.  

He is standing, tense, and snarling.

“Did Silco send you?” He spits. “To be done with the pesky firelights? Because we won't stop. You can't keep hurting people like this!” 

Jinx is frozen, and no words come. Yet something warm blooms in her. There's his fire. It's comforting to witness after his stillness. He's the one light she can't snuff, wants to keep alive, now and in her memory. 

“Well?” He snaps at her. What can she say? His gaze has her trapped, she licks and bites her lip, and the cut cracks open again. 

“Just go, be safe.” A hoarse whisper leaves her. She means: Stay away from Silco, stay away from me, please don't put yourself on my path again. 

“You know I can't do that.” Ekko says shaking his head, she doesn't reply. He looks at her again, tilts his head, and takes a step closer. His hand stretches out to her, and she steps back further into the shadows and looks away. 

Eventually, she hears a huff and whizz of a hoverboard. Jinx wants to follow the fading light, moving further and further away from her so very desperately.  

He's gone. It's for the best, it's the way of things. 

She moves dazed to his spot, hoping something of him lingers. Her arms wrap around herself, nails digging into the bare flesh of her upper arms, desperate for anything to ground herself, needing to hold something. All she has is the ghost of him. 

It's lonely here, too dark, too quiet. It wasn't a good place to die. It wasn't a good place to grieve. 

The empty metal and brick wall of the alley  beacons. She'll remember this death and she'll give the one apology she could. For Ekko. Digging in her pockets for her crayons. Before long, she covers the wall in bright green firelights. They're pretty, she thinks, guiding lights for the departed.

“Be free.” She scrawls amongst the glowing wings, isn't that, after all, what they all wanted?   

It’s the way of things. 

[amphiptere-art]

What kind of want to explain how my dandy is world headcanon / AU kind of works?

There is a set number of toons. Which means there's only one twisted of a certain toon at a time. And usually the twisted one is not present in the group. Which basically means the regular group of 20 is always split by 10. (Ignoring dandy.) People can be untwisted but it's usually at the resulting loss of somebody else. Even if there is no obvious reason for it.

Rtight now the basic idea is that who they gain and who they lose is based on the same progression system as the shop. The shop requires that some toons are required first before getting another one. There is also the obvious progression with the prices. And this kind of follows that. Although I am ignoring twisted research to a degree.

The starting group is Shrimpo, Boxen, Tisha, Scraps, Toodles, Brightney, Cosmo, Astro, Finn, and Razzle and Dazzle. A bit chosen out of random and also what a basic person starts with when they play the game.

They're also is a little rule that "quitting a run" Is an actual thing you can do. They can ask dandy to go back down if there is enough tapes to give. At least a med kit's price in everyone's pockets. They're also is sort of this weird meta reason why they are even collecting icker. Since buying toons isn't really available in this non-game reality. Instead it's sort of a sustenance / healing thing? Basically they need it to "save" people, and to also just have something to eat. As in my headcanon it's some sort of matter creating goo.

Anyways the building is still practically abandoned with the toons sitting inside. Which is why they have to go out to grab this acre that seems to be in endless supply. Supplies are very hard to come by. Dandy is the only one who seems to get these supplies easily. As the others have to find them out on these supply elevator runs. At first they don't know why half of their friends are missing. At least until they meet their twisted companions on their supply runs.

Although this is where the line of continuity gets fuzzy. I haven't thought about all the ins and outs. Just that whenever they save somebody they also lose somebody. And sometimes they lose two people. It's kind of random at this point how the story plays out.

There is one story where goob finds his sister scraps. But by the time he calms her down and is able to save her, the elevator countdown has begun. He chooses to stay with his sister and be not saved together instead of rejoining with the group.

There is a basic tag of death with Toodles and Pebbles in my mind.

Razzle and Dazzle get left behind because they weren't useful enough.

Shrimpo vanishes one night because of a disagreement.

Astro panics when he witnesses twisted dandy.

Cosmo gets killed/twisted by sprout.

Boxen is the last one standing at some point.

Ect. I'll probably come up with more and I might find string them together into a sensible line of events. But for right now they're random ideas.

At least you guys can understand how my continuity of how a living part of this game would work. Anyways. This is probably a monster to read. Oh well.

[darkspellmaster]

what's the common opinion on demons and demon contracts in twst ? Are people aware they exist, if so are they illegal ? What is known about demons ?

Demons are bad. In Briar Valley they are considered worse than bad. They're dangerous and malicious and something to avoid at all costs because you can't control them, and They can harm others with their powers. They are sly and full of tricks and you should never trust their word for a moment. Contracts should be avoided if possible, and any contract should be made with a witness on hand to ensure that the demon doesn't go back on their word and change things.

Stories of Chernabog and his ilk have been around for ages, and it's warned that one should avoid going up on certain mountain tops as they could house the beast. Rumors of old said that Sage Island (Sages Island) was once the resting place and that NRC may have been build on the location where he once resided. But no proof of that has ever come about.

Yes, people know they exist but it's limited on those who believe in them because summoning them is rare and a very dangerous thing to do. I wouldn't say illegal, but mages that delve into that magic are usually shunned and seen as possibly dangerous since ill intent is traditional when such a creature is summoned.

Demons are creatures that come from another dimension. They, like Fae, have a high amount of magic and seem to be creatures of magic in general. They can go into any world and any time. They are unknowable and the bits of information that can be gleaned come from second hand accounts as the contracture's don't usually make it out alive. Those that do are, in many cases, injured to the point they can't speak, had their memories removed and thus can't recall, or have been driven mad by the encounter. The little that is known is as follows:

Demons are made of magic though what type it is is unknown.

They are as strong as fae when it comes to magic and can be equal to them in a battle.

They eat souls or other emotions, depending on the person's deal, leaving the body behind.

Demons tend to look for the most vulnerable of people to contract with.

Rituals to summon vary, and in some cases it's simply a wish on the wrong day that can summon them, especially if the wish has ill intent.

A Demon can be cursed if the right spell is picked, though it can drain the caster so it's not advised to use curses on them.

Demons usually smell badly of death, decay or other such malicious smells, and can be smelled by beastmen.

Contracts tend to be placed on the body of the person making the contract, and typically, this is done as a means of connecting the two. The contract vanishes once the contract is complete and each Demon has their own variation of said contract mark.

The lower the rank of the demon the easier it is to summon.

There have been fae that have posed as Demons in order to gain power.

Some Demons have posed as fae.

As far as it is known a demon can not have a child with any living being in Twisted Wonderland. It's unknown if that is a physical thing or if Demons just find the people there gross. Similar to how Sebastian thinks of humans as insects, so too do the Demons think of the beings in Twisted Wonderland, so there is no known child between a demon and Human/Beastman/Fae/Merperson.

A Demon can be killed by a person who studies them, though this can be very difficult and it's unknown how many demons have been slain and how many simply escaped and people believe that they were killed.

One other fact that is unknown, but is something that will come up later, there is something that is stronger than Demons and it can corrupt or devour them, and tends to be lured to the Demons if they are in Twisted Wonderland for too long.

[tangent101]

Imagine if Max's Rewind vanished...

One of the huge assumptions for Sacrifice Chloe is that by seeing Chloe die, Max gained the Rewind. Thus by going back in time to the Butterfly photo and not saving Chloe, that fixes everything. If you just pick at one or two threads the whole things falls apart and becomes what it truly is: a selfish divinity wanting a human sacrifice. But what if this was in fact the truth... that by not seeing Chloe die, Max doesn't gain the Rewind.

So then... there is one point in which Max would not have the Rewind and that would be when Max tries to save William. She would not have the Rewind. She would have no way of stopping William. He walks out the door and she knows he's going to die... and she doesn't go forward in time. She's stuck there. She is 18 years old and trapped as her 13 year old self.

However, Max has a far greater understanding of the world as a result and can fix the mistakes she made the first time around. And that would be that she refuses to stop talking to Chloe this time. She does everything to stay in touch. She goes to the library and e-mails Chloe. She works on her own mental health, knowing what she herself went through that first time, she goes to the school counselor perhaps, she mourns with Chloe (if from afar)... and something new happens this time around.

Max is there to witness the start of the problems with David.

Naturally Max is going to tell her to go to the authorities. Report David for abuse. But much as likely happened the first time, Joyce handwaves it away, the police ignore it, Blackwell ignores it. Max would be horrified by the fact Chloe is being abused by this asshole and no one will do anything.

But there's a huge difference this time. Because Max is in her life. Perhaps she talks to her own school counselor about this abuse and how no one is doing anything. Maybe she talks to her parents. In fact, I think she would do the latter... and I think that Ryan and Vanessa would listen to their daughter. More, they might even listen to how the police won't do anything and they know how worried Max is... so they contact Joyce. They offer an alternative.

Let Chloe come up to Seattle for the summer. It will give Joyce and David a break from the conflicts with Chloe, Chloe can settle down and be with her best friend... and I think Joyce would jump at that possibility. She may claim she wants a "family" in LiS but what she really wants is for the fighting to stop. She wants security. And I think that with time away from Chloe... Joyce might realize that she's happier with her daughter living away from her.

Perhaps Joyce is the one who suggests that Chloe start attending classes in Seattle. If the Caulfields don't mind. Nor do I think Ryan and Vanessa would mind. They see how much their daughter has just... brightened and become more alive with Chloe in her life. Chloe would likely have to start a year back because her grades did suffer after William's death, and having someone she knows attending the same year would help Chloe settle in.

Chloe meanwhile is flourishing. She is exploring the city with Max. She misses her dad something fierce but Max is by her side. Max is there to hold her when she cries, Max cries with her, Max doesn't tell her she has to toughen up, she says it's okay to cry. And I think Chloe would heal. She wouldn't be quite the punk she is in the timeline where she remained in Arcadia Bay to be abused and ignored, though I think she's embrace some elements of it. (Max would likely encourage her to dye her hair blue.)

Max would be surprised, but only a tiny bit, when Chloe dares her to kiss her. She'd jump at the opportunity.

There'd be no return to Blackwell. Max would be more interested in staying with Chloe, and let's be honest, Mark Jefferson was only ever an excuse to return to Arcadia Bay. And Max would be surprised to learn that Rachel Amber went missing one day. Perhaps she might even send an anonymous letter recommending the authorities investigate Nathan Prescott.

The death of Kate Marsh shocks Max. She wasn't there to save her. She doesn't remember her face. It's been five years for her. She forgot that she was on the roof, that she was the one to talk her down. But there is one thing that happens... and that's the arrest of Nathan Prescott for questioning a couple days later... and then Mark Jefferson going on the run as he sees the noose closing around his own throat.

Fortunately, Max now has Chloe there. I don't know if Max would ever tell Chloe the truth about the time travel. I mean... she might. She wouldn't be able to prove a thing, but I think Chloe would believe her because... Max changed that day. She stopped being the meek girl she was... and she remained in touch. Max was the one who reached out and helped Chloe find a new home when she was being abused. And Max would have to admit how the first time around, she just didn't stay in touch and she refused to make that mistake this time around. Maybe she couldn't save Chloe's dad but... she saved Chloe.

Would there still be a Storm? Would Arcadia Bay be destroyed three days after the death of Kate Marsh? Or would things go differently this time around? Without Chloe to be there for Rachel, would the spirit of Rachel seek to destroy Arcadia Bay? Or would she and Kate watch as Jefferson fled, a fugitive, as justice was served?

Ultimately it doesn't matter. Max and Chloe have a different destiny now. They are together in Seattle, falling in love all over again, slower perhaps, but more deeply. And they'd move on and live the life that was denied to them in another time.

[ourloveisforthelovely]

Black Heart Part 11

Regulus Black AU

Request: Will you write a Regulus x Reader fic where Regulus is older than the reader? She comes to help the Order and Regulus falls in love with her. The relationship isn’t easy because of the war and Regulus’ denial that he would be a good boyfriend.

Summary: Admitting that he was in love had never been something that Regulus wanted to do. Now that you were in his life, Regulus didn’t know how to react. Should he love you or push you away just like he had everyone else?

Rating: M

Pairings: Regulus Black x Reader

Link to Part 10

_____

The moment Regulus stepped into the room with Ellie, your eyes fluttered open. Regulus had never been happier to see you looking at him. After watching you be taken away from him so fast with little preparation…Regulus was ready to come apart. All of the books that he had read never prepared him for THAT.

Sirius gave you a small nod before moving to sit down in a chair near the window. He wasn’t about to ruin this moment for his little brother. Witnessing it, was more than enough for Sirius.

You smiled seeing Regulus and the small bundle in his arms. Regulus held the baby like the most treasured jewel in the world. All of your hidden worries about Regulus somehow being like his father vanished.

Regulus looked ready to kill whoever may lay a hand on the baby in his arms.

“Are you okay?”

You asked softly. Regulus blinked a few times before quickly coming to join you. He gently placed the baby in your arms before returning to his confused state.

“You just had twins and you’re asking me if I am alright?”

You nodded as you looked down at your baby. Everything about Ellie was perfect.

“Yes, I am. Again, are you alright?”

You asked before stroking a finger over Ellie’s cheek to her little nose. She opened one little eye and looked at you before yawning and snuggling against your chest.

Regulus was sitting in silence for a moment. He was partially taking in your concern about him and partially loving watching you hold his baby. Regulus wanted to sit and just watch you for as long as he could.

How did his father not enjoy this?

It was the only thought that Regulus could make. He would never understand how Orion wasn’t with Walburga when he and Sirius were born. How could he not look at his children and feel some form of paternal love? Regulus couldn't even think about Ellie or Emmy growing up the way that he did. There would be no way that he would let that happen! Emmy and Ellie would always know that they were loved and wanted.

The same question could be said for Walburga too. How could she not care more about her children? The best Regulus could come up with was that he would never understand them or their thinking.

“Reggie?”

Your soft voice pulled Regulus from his thoughts. He leaned forward taking your free hand in his.

“I’m fine now. You scared me nearly to death. How are you feeling?”

You squeezed his hand as Regulus moved to sit closer to you on the bed.

“I’m feeling much better now. She’s perfect, you know.”

You said turning your attention back to Ellie. The baby had opened her tiny eyes and you were delighted to see that they were the same shade as her father’s.

“Of course, she’s perfect.”

Regulus replied before letting his mind go back to Emmy. He automatically frowned as the panic began to surge back. Remembering that his other daughter wasn’t 100% was now Regulus’ thing to fixate on. What if she wasn’t okay? What if she was born too early and something happened?

I can’t think like that.

Regulus muttered quietly to himself before taking a breath.

“Did the doctor talk to you about Emmy?”

You nodded, automatically picking up on your lover’s worry.

“She will be fine, Regulus. This is normal with twins…”

“Yeah, but those twins aren’t our twins.”

Regulus interrupted. You again squeezed his hand, hoping to calm his raging anxiety.

“Yes, the statistics aren’t our twins but I can assure you that our Emmy will be fine. I have taken care of many sets of twins. The healers are going to have her working just fine. There are some potions and spells that they are doing.”

“See Reg, I told you that everything would be okay.”

Sirius commented. Regulus only nodded as a healer came in. You were instantly relieved to see that she was holding what had to be Emmy in her arms.

And not a moment too soon…

You thought with a pleased smile. Of course, you were worried about Emmy but you knew medically that everything would be okay. Regulus didn’t have that knowledge. He only had what information that you gave him. Squeezing Regulus’ hand, you motioned to the doorway. Regulus immediately stood up to take Emmy from the healer. Coming back to join you, the both of you sighed in relief to see that Emmy was just as perfect as her sister.

Sirius had gotten up from his place and came over to join the two of you. He smiled looking at the baby in Regulus’ arms and the baby in your arms.

“Yep, they are identical. I think the both of you literally hit copy and paste.”

(2 weeks later)

Sirius stood outside Grimmauld Place with a frown on his face. Glancing over his shoulder, he made sure that he wasn’t being followed. Sirius had been taking a lot of extra care when he came for a visit now. Call it nervous jitters or whatever you like but Sirius was worried about some death eater following him to where his nieces slept. As far as Sirius was concerned, he was ready to take out any fucktard that looked in Ellie or Emmy’s direction.

That is partially why I am here.

Sirius thought. He was there with news that Regulus may or may not like. Only time would tell on that one.

Regulus opening the door pulled Sirius from his thoughts. He automatically smirked at his younger brother’s rather disheveled appearance. Regulus was normally always put together and tidy. Today, he looked exhausted with his shirt sleeve rolled up and nearly untucked.

“You look…well.”

Sirius commented as he stepped in. Regulus gave Sirius a glare as he shut the door.

“I look like stomped over crap.”

Sirius grinned as he looked around the neatly maintained house. He was thankful that you had brought some life into the place. It didn’t necessarily look like a haunted house anymore.

“Did the little angels keep you awake?”

Regulus yawned before nodding.

“They have been up since four. I swear for them being identical they do nothing identically. When one is asleep the other is awake. When one’s hungry the other needs a change. I’m exhausted.”

Sirius laughed to himself as he went over to where the twins lay.

“Awe, I think Daddy will be just fine. Daddy just needs to get over himself don’t he?”

Sirius commented in a high-pitched voice. Ellie gave him a little frown while Emmy just blinked.

“Daddy is going to kick you.”

Regulus grumbled. Sirius again chuckled.

“That one is always scowling at me. Which one is that?”

“Ellie.”

Regulus commented before motioning to the little blanket the baby was wrapped in.

“If you could read then you would notice that the blanket says their names on them. Molly dropped them off.”

Sirius frowned before looking down at the blankets closely. Sure enough, both blankets had each baby’s name neatly embroidered on them.

“Well, would you look at that? Apparently, Uncle Sirius is a big dummy. I have come to the conclusion that Ellie is your mini. She scowls at me just like you do. Emmy is Y/n’s mini. She’s just peaceful and calm.”

Regulus moved to sit down.

“Yeah, she’s calm alright. Just wait until it's 2 am and she has a loaded diaper.”

Sirius winced.

“Ew, not my thing. You, on the other hand, look like you were born to change dirty diapers.”

A small smile formed on Regulus’ face.

“I suppose so. I’m almost positive that Kreacher is now in hiding. He heard the two of them screaming at the same time and ran for it. I haven’t seen him in days.”

“He may have died.”

Sirius interrupted. Regulus gave him a displeased look.

“Mate, don’t.”

Sirius held a hand up ready to defend his thinking.

“Reg, he’s like a million years old. He was old when we were kids.”

Regulus rolled his eyes.

“Don’t let Y/n hear you say that. You know that she adores Kreacher besides…she’s a little sensitive right now. She’s bursting into tears at the smallest thing…thankfully Tonks and Andromeda showed up like god damned fairy godmothers to help out. They’re in the kitchen having tea. Anyway, what are you up to today? It's early for you to make an appearance.”

Sirius’ smile fell as he, once again, looked over his shoulder.

“I have something for you. I was going to take care of it myself but I figured that you would want to join in. I didn’t want you getting jealous because…”

“What is it, Sirius? I am going on three hours of sleep and don’t want to play charades.”

Regulus interjected. There were just times, like today, when Sirius could be exhausting.

“First, off interrupting is rude. Second, I have Pettigrew tied to a chair in my flat. I wanted to see if you wanted to get a few hits in before I finished him off.”

Regulus nearly broke the chair that he was sitting in to get up. Had he heard Sirius correctly? Did he really say that he had the one man that Regulus wanted to choke? He was almost 99% positive that he had heard his older brother correctly.

“How did you get him?”

Regulus questioned as he moved to make sure that you were still eagerly talking to Tonks and Andromeda. When he was sure that you hadn’t heard anything, Regulus turned back to Sirius.

“It's fine, she’s busy.”

Regulus replied, giving the go-ahead for Sirius to speak.

“I ran into him in a dark ally way. He tried to run, I hit him over the head. As much as I wanted to finish him off for James and Lily… I knew that you would want to get a hit in for how he threatened Y/n and the twins.”

Regulus immediately looked furious. His attention went to the twins who were now cuddled together sleeping. Sirius was right. Regulus did want to kill Peter. He wanted to make sure the other man downright suffered!

Regulus focused his attention back on Sirius. He wondered just how dirty Sirius wanted to get his hands. Regulus knew that Sirius was definitely capable of killing Peter himself. There was no questioning that but the question was, would he?

“I nearly killed him last night but I thought that was too good for him. The worm doesn’t deserve an easy way out.”

Sirius replied, feeling the rage over losing James and Lily return. Peter’s deception and betrayal were still “a cut” that never healed itself. Sirius did well at hiding his true feelings most days but when Peter came back to endanger Regulus’ family’s lives…everything was torn right back open again.

“Did you leave him alone?”

Regulus questioned. Sirius shook his head.

“Remus is with him now. He wanted to get a few punches in too.”

Regulus had already pulled his coat on. He was going to do more than punch Peter. Regulus was going to make damn sure that Peter regretted ever mentioning a word about any member of the Black family.

“I’ll be doing more than that. Excuse me for a moment.”

Regulus turned and went into the kitchen where you sat with Tonks and Andromeda. He felt guilty leaving you immediately even if it was only for a few hours. Regulus knew that you were as exhausted as he was. He justified it, however, by telling himself that he was getting rid of the waste of space…a cowardly, useless waste of space that no longer deserved to breathe.

“Love, can I talk to you for a moment?”

You immediately got up and followed Regulus into the study. Something on Regulus’ face made you nervous.

“Is something wrong?”

You asked. Regulus shook his head, trying with everything he had to appear normal.

“Love, I’m going out with Sirius for a bit. He needs my help with something.”

You raised an eyebrow before glancing to where Sirius stood. Even his expression seemed “off”

“What does he need help with? Both of you seem off. Regulus, what are you doing?”

Regulus took a breath before moving forward to pull you into a kiss. His hand didn’t leave the side of your face.

“I can’t tell you right now. I need you to trust me and know what I am going to do is for the best. It's for the best of all of us. Can you do that?”

Regulus was relieved when you reluctantly nodded. He knew that he would have to tell you the truth soon enough. Until Peter was dead, however, he wanted you to stay in the dark. There was safety in the dark, especially now.

“Just be safe and come home to me. The girls and I need you.”

You said, hoping that Regulus wouldn’t be doing anything too dangerous. The main thing that you wanted to do was plant the seed that not only did the twins need Regulus but you needed him too.

Regulus kissed you again softly.

“I promise, I will be just fine. The three of you are my everything. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Regulus kissed you one final time before following Sirius out the door….

_____

@amelie-black @justfinishthis @jessyballet @knreidy1 @criminalyetminimal @jsjcue @livshifts @ell0ra-br3kk3r @mimisparkle12 @teletubiswszpilkach @golddustwomann @siriuslyceleste @bxcndd @stelleduarte @millies0bsimp @coffeeaddictednymph @readtomeregulus @rogue-nyx88 @i-love-scott-mccall @f4iryluvy @s-we-e-t-t-ea @buttercup-beeee @taylor-will-be-the-death-of-me @panpride @saramaple @missgorldafirst @gugggu6gvai @jag9000 @mentally-unstable-hoe @quinis @yousmellllikecaca @haroldpotterson @goldensunshineshit @aurorasnape12 @ad-astra-again @padf00ts-l0ver @rubyroscoe1 @lucasfilms77 @spideyxalmighty @dumybitch @ravenhood2792 @marichromatic @play-morezeppelin @lostarc24 @un-lovesherself @melaninnbarbie @valvlry @brokencasbutt67-writer @authoressskr @moldy-old-boot @hankypranky @summer-novak @emiwrites3reads @shaylybaby2032 @knight-of-gleefulness @untoldshortsofthefandoms @deanwherescas @shitfaceddaniel-blog @sprnaturallover @wontlookaway @li0nh34rt @tas898 @mycuddlycorner

[halfandhalfshoto]

enchanted | bokuaka

- pairing: band member!bokuto x manager!akaashi

- genre: angst

- warnings: none

- word count: 1,098 words

- inspired by taylor swift’s enchanted!

————————

There I was again tonight

Forcing laughter, faking smiles

Same old tired, lonely place

“Bokuto, you idiot! You aren’t gonna come to practice again?” Oikawa shouted across the classroom where a blank-faced, spaced out, tall male sat.

The said male looked at him with no emotions at all, but gave a hollowed out smile.

“Maybe tomorrow, I’ll go,” He replied, earning a sigh from the brown-haired boy who left saying “Daichi’s gonna be pissed with you again,”

Walls of insincerity, shifting eyes and vacancy

Vanished when I saw your face

All I can say is, it was enchanting to meet you

Bokuto entered the room with his stratocaster in the case he was carrying, only for it to be dropped when he saw an unfamiliar familiar person.

“Well, if it isn’t the VIP!” Daichi exclaimed sarcastically, pertaining to the guitarist who hasn’t come to practice for 2 whole weeks.

Bokuto didn’t mind it. He just stood there, staring at the black-haired male, talking to Kuroo, their bassist, about some gigs they’ve done. Not once did he utter a word during Daichi’s 5-minute lecture about band practices.

“—and I don’t think you’re even listening,” The drummer sighed as he raked his fingers through his hair. Oh boy, if only he knew how smitten Bokuto was. He gave out a “Whatever,” and called the person Kuroo was talking to.

“Akaashi Keiji, meet Bokuto Koutarou, our guitarist,”

Your eyes whispered, "Have we met?"

'Cross the room your silhouette

Starts to make its way to me

Cliché.

That was all Bokuto could think of when he realized how he felt towards the boy approaching him.

What kind of cliché romance story was this?

“You’re late, Mr. Bokuto. I’m your new manager,” Akaashi said with a straight face. Bokuto was dumbfounded at his words, before realizing it was a joke when Akaashi smiled a bit and held back a laugh.

“I’m kidding. It’s nice to meet you, but I hope you won’t be late again,” He told the still-quiet spiky-haired boy as he extended a hand.

Bokuto looked at it, held out his own hand, hesitated, drew it back, then held it out again.

“What kind of stupidity is this?” Oikawa muttered at the scene he was witnessing. Their guitarist was actually flustered. The guy who makes everyone swoon during their gigs!

“I won’t ever be late if you’re here, you can count on me!” Bokuto finally exclaimed confidently, winking. He picked up his guitar and urged everyone to start practicing, pronto!

This night is sparkling, don't you let it go

I'm, blushing all the way home

I'll spend forever wondering if you knew

I was enchanted to meet you

It had been 3 months.

“What a stellar performance! Their guitarist really made the crowd go crazy, huh?” The host said to his co-host after Bokuto’s band got off the stage. He really stole the show with that gesture.

“You think he’s gonna be mad?” He asked, looking at the 4 of his bandmates.

“Well, you’re gonna know,” Kita answered, staring in front of them as Akaashi marched forward.

“What was that?!” Their manager let the whole band go through except for Bokuto.

Seeing Akaashi’s flustered, all-red expression, he grinned.

While performing, he had shouted “Akaashi Keiji, will you be my boyfriend?” in the middle of Oikawa singing Enchanted by Taylor Swift

“You have an answer?” He shamelessly asked.

The lingering question kept me up

2 AM, who do you love?

I wonder 'til I'm wide awake

“Ugh, disgusting!” Kuroo exclaimed as he saw Bokuto and Akaashi entering the room, hands intertwined.

“Oh please! You’re just sulking because Kenma hasn’t replied to any of your texts,” Oikawa teased.

“Really? How are things going with Iwaizumi?”

“Alright, shut up!”

“Okay, time to practice! You have a gig tomorrow,” Akaashi broke the ensuing fight the two were about to have as he let go of Bokuto’s hand.

The spiky-haired boy crunched his eyebrows and gave death glares to Oikawa and Kuroo, blaming them for Akaashi letting go.

—

“Hey, Keiji, do you believe in love at first sight?” Bokuto asked as Akaashi snuggled closer, allowing his boyfriend’s sweet scent to fill his nostrils.

“Hm, I don’t know. Do you?” He answered, on the verge of falling asleep.

“Only when I first saw you,”

This is me praying that

This was the very first page

Not where the story line ends

My thoughts will echo your name, until I see you again

“For you,” Bokuto extended his hand out, revealing a bouquet of baby’s breath.

It was graduation day, 4 years of college finally over.

Akaashi smiled and took it, pulling the love of his life in as he slipped a ring on his finger.

“What’s this?” Bokuto asked after Akaashi let go, mesmerized at the ring suddenly on his hand.

“A promise ring, binding me to the future act of marrying you,” The black-haired boy answered as he cheekily grinned. Bokuto wasn’t the only one good at romantic gestures.

These are the words I held back, as I was leaving too soon

I was enchanted to meet you

“Kou… I got accepted to that job I applied for…”

“That’s great, baby!”

“But it’s in the US,”

Bokuto’s world had stopped.

“Take it,” He told Akaashi after a few minutes of silence.

“You know I ca-“

“Take it, it’s your dream, remember?” He took Akaashi’s hand into his, and gave those puppy eyes he knew his boyfriend couldn’t say no to.

Please don't be in love with someone else

Please don't have somebody waiting on you

“We have to break up, don’t we?” Akaashi tearfully asked, while looking at Bokuto who was helping him pack his things.

The other boy stopped what he was doing, and silence ensued them once again.

“I’ll wait for you,” He started.

“After all, I still have your ring,” He showed Akaashi his left hand, sporting the ring given during graduation.

Akaashi smiled, and kissed his lover as they started to pack his things.

Little did he know, Bokuto had rejected a job abroad before for him.

Please don't be in love with someone else

Please don't have somebody waiting on you

“Hey, Akaashi’s home,” Daichi told Bokuto over the phone.

His eyes were filled with ecstasy. It had been years since he last talked to Akaashi.

Looking at the ring still on his finger, Bokuto started to think of the first thing he would like to say.

“— Are you okay?” Daichi asked, still on the other line.

“Huh?”

“Akaashi’s home…”

“And he asked us to play at his wedding.”

———————

hello everyone! i’m back after 3 years ^^ here’s a bokuaka fic bc i love themmmm