#it's... how shall I put it.... a bit desolate out there

[baronmagikcarp]

You guys might want to, oh, I don't know, do a little maintenance.

[obsidiancreates]

Concerning Hobbits Who Cause A Great Deal Of Concern

Sequel to There and Back Again (Starting From The End)

Bilbo picks over the pile of supplies in front of him. "Extra clothes, good, maps, good, plenty of water jugs- won't be making that mistake twice, not after that holiday when Frodo was a lad-"

Gandalf clears his throat in the doorway, and Bilbo waves him in without looking up. "Come in, come in. Do you suppose I could find a good walking stick somewhere out in the desolation? Nevermind, I expect not. Let's see here- ah! Yes, yes, perfect." Bilbo holds up a small chain, meant for a delicate pendant. "Frodo wore the ring on a chain such as this, to resist it's temptations. I think I shall follow his lead. He was the one to do this quest first, after all."

"Bilbo Baggins," Gandalf says, slowly entering the decrepit supply room of Erebor's less ruined halls. "You owe us all some answers, I think."

"I explained it already, didn't I? I've been sent back from countless years in the future to prevent- well, prevent it all." Bilbo rifles through the pile some more. "The war, the misery, the deaths. I'm making grand plans for the coming years, Gandalf. Frodo told me as many stories as he could in the years before my return, and there's more souls in need of saving than I'm prepared for yet. We'll have to finish up this quest as quickly as we can, if I'm to settle in here and then get back to The Shire before poor Drogo and Primula meet their ends."

"Every word you utter brings more questions than answers," Gandalf huffs. "You told Gloin his son would face Sauron himself, prophesied my death and resurrection, and in the same breath pulled Thorin Oakenshield to your lips and have left him in a daze ever since!"

"I've tried telling him to come help me pack," Bilbo mutters. "Of course he's dazed, Gandalf, I myself didn't realize what exactly I felt until after his death before! It's only been a couple of days, he'll shake it off."

"Bilbo." Gandalf puts his hand on his dear friend's shoulder. "I ask you as not only a friend, but a wizard concerned for the safety of Middle-Earth... and your own mind. What did you see, before facing the kings?"

"I 'saw' nothing, Gandalf, I lived. And it's hard to say, exactly, what I lived. After my hundred and eleventh it all goes a bit... hazy, and grows hazier the longer I'd gone on, frought with only fits of clear mind. But I remember enough." Bilbo pulls a broken spear shaft from the pile, tests it's weight and width in his hand, and then grabs a small whittling knife and begins to attempt to shape it into a good walking stick.

Gandalf sits next to him. "Then help me be prepared, my friend. You seek to lead us all into the heart of Sauron's very fortress. What did your young nephew face on his same journey?"

"Well, we shan't be taking quite the same path, I think." Bilbo pulls a map out of his bag. "He went somewhere along this path, lead on by that foul creature Gollum from about here to here. I shouldn't like to encounter the mother of the Mirkwood spiders like he and Samwise did- but I shouldn't like to go to the Black Gates either, if they yet exist."

Gandalf watches Bilbo with his pipe sitting unpuffed in his lips and palm, his ancient eyes fraught with concern. Bah. Bilbo's seen that look for- well, not even he knows how long. It's hardly a deterrent.

"How often have you used The Ring, Bilbo?"

"I expect you have your suspicions. I used it first in the goblin tunnels, of course, and then again in Mirkwood- terrible, terrible business in Mirkwood. Such a strange thing, Gandalf, to have it guide my hands. I knew it was evil then, but also that I needed it." It's hard to push the words out, though one would never guess by Bilbo's strong and steady tone.

Some part of him still shrieks to keep it secret, safe, unknown to others. But that part is very new, very young, and the older feeling of Obsession mingles with it in a way that diminishes them both- like adding together equal parts vinegar and honey, until it taste like neither and is altogether repulsive to taste.

"And then in Thranduil's halls, of course- did we ever explain that part of the journey to you? Ah, Thanduil mentioned it when I brought the Arkenstone, so I'm sure you don't need me to. Again with Smaug, though it was very little use against him. Then again when I ran to Ravenhill, and again to kill Azog. That's how often I've used it in this life and body, at the very least."

"And in the life before?"

"Too many times to count," Bilbo groans. "I used it to hide from unwanted visitors and relatives! Can you believe it? The thing that could destroy all of Middle-Earth, and I used it to avoid neighbors. Well, I didn't know any better, I suppose, and I'll admit I'm likely to miss the ability when I return home- not to stay, mind you. I left Erebor all those years ago because I couldn't stand living here when Thorin, Fili, and Kili weren't around to fill it. Thorin most of all."

Bilbo shakes his head. "But I'll still need to settle things with Bag End! I hope you're grateful, by the way, Gandalf. In the past before I returned home within thirteen months of running out my door and they'd already auctioned off most of my belongings. I expect I'll get home to a smial full of Sackville-Baggins belongs and a Shire full of my scattered heirlooms. It'll take me ages to round it all up again to leave for Frodo and Sam and Sam's sweet. Perhaps this time I'll get to know those children as they grow- Sam was always telling us about how impressive his children were, heh."

Gandalf finally puffs on his pipe, seemingly relaxing. "You're quite a different fellow in your old age."

"Yes, it does tend to do that," Bilbo mutters. "As do a great many other things. I should like to blame some of my later eccentricities on The Ring, but in truth I think I should have become so odd even without it." Bilbo gives up on the broken spear shaft with a huffs. "Right, I'm going to search outside for something more suitable."

"Perhaps take a companion with you." Gandalf's eyes twinkle. "A certain wide-eyed Dwarf king is in great need of some air, after you stole it from his chest."

"Ha!" Bilbo grins, wide and bright, in a way Gandalf has rarely seen- if ever. It's full of hope and promise. "Good idea, old friend."

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

Bilbo leads the way as he and Thorin go out to the mountain side. Thorin watches him, wary and wondering all at once, and Bilbo could savor the feeling of it forever.

"Alright now, Thorin, I'm the same Hobbit as before," Bilbo says, bending down to try an ancient branch broken from a burned tree corpse. "No need to get all strange about talking with me."

"But are you?" Thorin watches Bilbo with analyzing and admiring eyes. "You speak differently than you did only days ago."

"Alright, I've gotten wordier in my years," Bilbo admits. "And more sure of the words I wish to say before I say them. But that doesn't mean I'm some strange new hobbit unknown to you."

"Does it not?" Thorin picks up a stick as well, though it's clear he's not focused on it, merely feigning participation in the activity. "The Bilbo I knew wasn't one to..."

"Pull you in for a kiss?" Bilbo guesses. "Believe me, I wanted to, but I only admitted it to myself when it was... too late. That kiss was ages overdue, Thorin."

"How long overdue?" Thorin moves even closer. "How long did you live, beyond my death?"

"It's hard to recall, exactly." Bilbo pauses, hands on his knees, looking out at the snow-dusted mountainside. "I can't seem to track the years after I went to Rivendell again, but I was a hundred and eleven then, and I know a great many years passed after that. I could be thousands of years old now for all I know, though few of those years lived in a stable state of mind, so I don't know if they should count."

"Is a hundred and eleven... old, for a hobbit?"

"Well, my grandfather Old Took lived to be one hundred and thirty, so it's not impossibly old, but I barely aged until I passed The Ring to Frodo. And then it all sort of... caught up to me at once. I'd intended to return here, but deteriorated far too much by the time I made it to Rivendell."

Thorin picks up another stick and offers it to Bilbo for examination. "So you know very little of the quest ahead of us."

"I know enough," Bilbo says pointedly, shooting Thorin a look. "I know that if we wait, Sauron will grow armies larger than even what we faced already, and whole kingdoms will fall to ruin under his heel. I know that Gimli, only a lad as he is now, will venture into Moria with his Fellowship and find the bodies of our very own Balin and Ori before losing Gandalf to Durin's Bane."

Thorin sucks in a breath. "Durin's Bane? It still lives in the depths?"

"Lives and rages, and my terrible Took cousin leads it right to them," Bilbo says, shaking his head. "I'd often thought Fili and Kili had been reborn as hobbits, when Meriadoc and Peregrin began their antics." Bilbo's mouth twitches into a smile, a familiar expression to Thorin and something Bilbo had been told he'd stopped doing on a rare visit from- well, he can't quite remember which dwarf it was who came to visit, actually. Only that they'd said he'd changed quite a bit, but it wasn't bad change- simply unexpected.

'Like you lot,' he remembers saying back, 'Nearly knocking down my door.' He remembers they'd laughed. He still can't place who it was. Perhaps his memory is not as sharp as he'd hoped it'd be, in this new life, new youth.

Now, in the New Present, Bilbo finally finds a suitable walking stick- it just needs a little adjusting and it'll be perfect.

"Now that, is an amusement," Thorin chuckles. "I can't imagine it."

"You won't have to, someday." Bilbo puts his hand on Thorin's arm. "I intend to make trips to Hobbiton every few years, after all- I should like to save dear Frodo's parents, save his heart from that grief, but I won't remove myself from his life for the sake of it. He'll go mad without my stories, as will little Sam. I hope you're prepared to have about... four more nephews."

Thorin's eyebrows raise. "Very presumptuous of you, Master Baggins."

Bilbo rises to his tip-toes and pecks Thorin's lips. "I don't believe it's an unfounded presumption, though. The mithril shirt is a bit of an obvious show, I think."

Thorin blushes.

"Worth more than the entire Shire, apparently. And here I'd tucked it into a chest for sixty years."

"Into a chest?"

"Don't look like that, I was in grief. Besides, I passed it to Frodo, and it apparently served him very well."

"I'm impatient to meet this nephew of yours. He sounds like he'd belong with us as much as you do."

"No, no. He's a brave, kind, worthy soul, but a soul who belongs to the little rivers and rolling hills of The Shire more than he belongs to the world at large. Perhaps it'll be different this time, with no need for a terrible quest, but I have some doubts. Still, I think you'll get along. He has great spirit."

Bilbo, arm-in-arm now with Thorin, leads them both back to the entrance. "Dain will do very well looking after Erebor while we journey, by the way. I'm sure you knew it already, but I thought it might help to know that he was a great ruler in my life passed- according to passing stories, anyway."

"It makes leaving no easier."

"I know." Bilbo rubs Thorin's arm with his thumb. "But we'll be home soon, Thorin. And then we can truly rebuild."

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Freedom, for a price.

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)   *Sound of a door opening*

*Multiple footsteps entering before creaking door shut*

*scuff of a chair being dragged against rock floor before someone sits down*

Human: I was wondering if you would accept my invitation.

Nivo: Ga’tek sha von tout.

Human: Forgive me, my translator must be offset.

Human: *Slaps translator*

Human: There we go; can you repeat your last statement?

Nivo: Why should I not kill you?

*Sounds of alien weapons being pulled out and charged*

Human: Is such unwarranted aggression needed?

Nivo: You somehow located our stronghold, snuck past all of my men, and left a calling card in my war room.

Nivo: The only reason you are still alive now is that I would know how this was done.

Human: Let us not focus on the past and instead look to our future.

Nivo: You have no future if you do not answer my question.

Human: Where as you have none should you not hear what I have to offer.

Nivo: *Silence*

Nivo: *Motions for guns to be lowered*

Human: Tell me general, how goes your civil war?

Nivo: We shall soon overthrow the corrupt council and restore order to our world and our people.

Human: Oh?

Human: Then I must congratulate you!

Human: As my information says you will lose in six months if things do not change.

Nivo: LIES! *Smashes fists against table*

Human: There is no need for the acting and bravado with me, general.

Human: I am not one of your soldiers who need their spirits lifted by your defiant speeches.

Nivo: We shall not be defeated by those vile snakes!

Nivo: Our cause is just and noble; we will never surrender!

Human: A rather moot rationality, considering your enemy is not excepting surrender at this time.

Nivo: This discussion is quickly becoming less amusing by the moment, so speak quickly.

Human: *Sighs, puts out cigarette*

Human: Let it not be said that you and your followers are not dedicated and courageous warriors.

Human: The ruling council of yours has long since abused your people and it was only a matter of time until a breaking point was crossed.

Human: But what you lack are the tools to break the chains they have wrapped your people in.

Human: *Taps table*

*Two humans approach out of darkness and set a crate down on the table before retreating*

Nivo: What is this?

Human: *Stands up and pops lid off crate*

Human: The tools of your freedom.

*Reaches into box and pulls out energy assault rifle*

Human: What I have here is the Mark VII Continental.

Human:  Carries a sixty round energy capacity with on the fly recharge, each round capable of piercing through an energy barrier of 1.5 frequency or a solid six feet of reinforced concrete.

Human: *Tosses it to Nivo who catches it midair in one hand*

Human: These babies make your current arsenal look like children’s toys.

Nvio: *Angry grunts but inspects the weapon nonetheless.*

*After a few moments passes it behind him to one of his waiting men*

Human: Don’t be shy, plenty to go around.

*flips over crate and several more rifles spill out across the table*

Nivo: This is what you brought me here for?

Nivo: A crate of weapons?

Human: No.

Human: A sample of what is to come.

Human: *Reaches into coat and removes data pad, sliding it over to Nivo*

Human: My associates are willing to supply you, your men, and anyone else you deem worthy; with the weapons and necessities needed to win this righteous war.

Nivo: *Takes up data pad and scrolls through items*

Nivo: Impressive.

Nivo: But if we truly are losing, why sell to us?

Nivo: As you said we are on the verge of falling and have little in means to pay you.

Human: *Chuckles* We know this, but fortunately for you my associates are not looking for monetary compensation for these items.

Nivo: Then what?

Human: There is an island in your southern hemisphere; rather desolate place isolated by miles of ocean in every direction.

Nivo: What of it?

Human: When you achieve victory we want you to cede that island to our control to manage and govern as we see fit.

Nivo: What use would it be for you?

Human: That is not your concern.

Nivo: You ask me to sell sovereign lands of my people and think I am desperate enough not to ask why?

Human: *Pauses, paces away from table before turning around*

Human: The truth then?

Nivo: The truth.

Human: We have little care for you or your war.

Human: You can grind yourself into dust and be scattered to the winds by your enemies and we would not lift a finger in contempt.

Human: But what we do care about are your neighbors.

Nivo: Neighbors?

Human: The Talayan Empire and the Rembar Republic.

Human: You see they we are concerned about and are very much interested in keeping an eye on.

Human: They’ve made some rather inciting remarks that have made my associates nervous.

Nivo: What does that have to do with my people?

Human: Your council refused our previous offer to establish a listening post on the island; going so far as to ban us from your space entirely.

Nivo: So your truth is made clear.

Nivo: You seek only your own betterment by supporting my cause.

Human: Is that so wrong?

Human: You obtain your freedom and we get our small island; everyone wins.

Nivo: And what is to stop me from simply denying you your prize after we win?

Human: *Chuckles* We both know you are a warrior of honor and would never break your word.

Human: Likewise you are a being of common sense and realize the folly of such a betrayal.

Nivo: *looks confused at remark*

Human: If my associates have access to this type of hardware and are willing to dispense it so freely to help a potential ally, what do you think they would do to a hated enemy?

Nvio: *silent*

Human: There is no need to dwell on distasteful possibilities.

Human: For the price of one island you can have the better future you have dreamed of for you and your people.

Human: *holds out hand* Do we have a deal?

Nivo: *Turns to see his men holding weapons, the look of despair gone from their eyes replaced with the flickering flame of hope*

Nivo: *Turns around and takes humans hand*

Nivo: We have a deal, Mr.?

Human: Yuri.

Yuri: You may call me Yuri.

[beezonia]

A bittersweet meeting

A one piece au gabenath drabble

I love you enemies to lovers to enemies gabenath!

no warnings except for a few swears and a lot of fighting and maybe some weird tension with a bit of gore in some descriptions

——

He hasn’t been here in a long time. By long time he means, about four years ago.

Frostberg Island had been home to many memories for Gabriel, good and bad.

Even sweet and sour ones.

He had his fair share here, all because of her.

Well, all because of them and the stupid decisions they made back when they were younger.

He’s Grand Admiral of the Marines now! Can’t let a stupid pirate get in his way, no because then he’d loose all the glory, all the power.

Gabriel couldn’t loose the power he had! He’d be nothing without it.

God how he hates this island, and the feelings that come with it. But no, he had to persevere Gabriel had an example to set for the recruits, and he was not about to let them down either!

Most of them were covered by various furs or draped in thick fabric to keep out the cold.

Another thing he hated about this island, no real heat just frost and ice everywhere you look.

It was a stark reminder of the woman he loved. God it was perfect for her, she did love winter.

Loved how you could see your breath when it was cold enough, loved how she could skate on the small lake once it had frozen over.

Fuck.

This was going to be harder then Gabriel expected. He was sure his team could tell he was distracted too.

Not a good thing.

Hopefully they didn’t bump into any pirates on the way, that’s not what they were here for.

Not what he himself needed.

———

There’s a mansion on a hill, north of the small town that resides near the docks of Frostberg.

It’s like something you’d see in those old fairytale books she used to read. Menacing but beautiful, it’s architecture a reminder of what was.

That was where the great Captain Heartless resided, where she had lived for a long time now.

The sea no longer called to the captain, her cold heart was set on something even more exciting.

Revenge, sweet revenge.

She would not rest until the fucking admiral’s head was on a stick. It was the least he could do, after all the pain he put her through those years ago.

Yes, the great Nathalie Sancoeur, Heartless, Demon Queen would stop at nothing until he was dead, laying there with his heart sat still by his side.

Nathalie would not rest until Grand Admiral Agreste was dead and buried.

Luckily for her, it seems the time had come.

News had spread like wildfire that the man himself had come to visit Frostberg himself, how wonderful!

She was going to enjoy ripping him to shreds.

“Vincent, I think it’s time we go pay the Grand Admiral a visit”

The man next to her nods, a smirk appears on his face when he realises the thing they’ve been waiting oh so patiently for us about to fall right into their laps.

“Of course my dear, I shall prepare the crew for action.”

Oh how glorious this was going to be!

How satisfied she was going to feel after his head was ripped off those shoulders.

——

He can feel something is going to go wrong. Gabriel doesn’t know why but sometimes he gets a feeling that eyes are watching him as he walks through the town centre.

Which isn’t as busy as it should be in the early afternoon and that strikes him as odd.

Very odd.

Most of the recruits had been wary as they walked past the empty stalls and shops. They had the luxury of innocence still.

Gabriel's commanders knew something was wrong instantly, on guard as soon as they saw how desolate the place was. None of them wanted to die today, and none of them would.

He'd make sure of that.

"She's going to throttle you, you know?!"

Now that's a voice he recognises, Penny Rolling former member of the Rockroll Pirates.

"So she is here then, they were right."

The woman scoffs, Penny pushes through the large crowd of marines to stand by him.

"I'm being serious Gabriel, she's going to kill you! Turn back now."

It's his turn to scoff now, he doesn't need to run if Nathalie is here like Penny said all he needs to do is bring her in and there is no problem.

"As much as I appreciate the help Penny, this wont take long. You can all go back to living peacefully without her tyranny."

Penny rolls her eyes, sighing. It looks like she's given up on trying to convince him. But the annoyance morphs into shock and it gets Gabriel's heart thumping.

"Don't say I didn't warn you Agreste."

She scuttles of as fast as she came, leaving him and the rest of the Marines in some sort of rugged state. Most are anxious, listening to Penny's words must have put them on edge.

"She's right you know. I am going to kill you."

Oh shit.

It's followed by a laugh, a manic one. Oh god, oh fuck what was going to happen now?!

Gabriel lifts his head upwards towards on of the rooftops, and there she stood in all her cold hearted glory.

Nathalie "Demon Queen" Sancoeur, Captain of the Driftwood Devil's who have made Frostberg Island their home.

"It's fucking hilarious how you just walked right on in, didn't stop and think about a murderous pirate did you?!"

He gulps, this exactly what he wanted to avoid. Especially since he was on her home turf.

“Nathalie, I need you to come with me now! Don’t make this harder then it has to be!”

The pirate laughs, over and over the same manic laugh she used when someone had hurt her.

The same laugh when she was down on her knees and bleeding, ribs stuck out of the cage of skin that protected them.

Tears falling but she was still fighting for her life, like it was going to be her last day on earth.

He himself had hurt her and now he was going to pay the price.

“NOW YOU HAVE THE AUDACITY TO ORDER ME AROUND! FUCKING PRICK AREN’T YOU?!”

She jumps forward, flipping and then makes a smooth landing on the cobbled pathway.

There’s an almost animalistic grin on her face, then there’s the knife clasped in her hand.

She was going to kill him.

“Who gave you the right to call me by my first name huh? You dug your grave Agreste, NOW LIE IN IT!”

Nathalie lunges forward, and it’s then he realises he and the rest are outnumbered.

She’s brought her whole crew to overpower him. They charge along side her, proud to fight for their captain.

God she really did think ten steps ahead of everyone.

She was right as always, he’d dug his grave leaving her like that, leaving her alone hurting. But no Gabriel was not going to give up his life just yet.

“No, I’LL KEEP FIGHTING! YOU WONT KILL ME I KNOW YOU WONT!”

Another growl, she dodges his punch, kicking her leg out towards his knees.

Nathalie, she was going to kill him. The woman he used to love, the woman he still somewhat loved even if he did hurt her before.

She was about to stab him in the back.

“Then you really don’t know me anymore, do you? I’ll rip that head of your fucking shoulders if it’s the last thing I’d do.”

———-

It’s done, I hate it but I hope you like it!

[afghanprincess69]

uriah uriah

what's to be what's to be - hearing the arc of his teenage years and the desolation spent in vancouver

and a cursory google search- finding the NOTES OF HIS FAILED RELATIONSHIPS.

I'm deathly spelled. i'm death-spelled. I like this guy. I do. I really do - I wonder how much he likes me. what's the arc he foresees? does he look past himself, and see a me in it? letter-minded me. my mind made up of swimming words that don't stop. the words fetter and bulge in my breast. they extend down the tendrils of my nervous system. they keep me up at night. my neuroticism, I see beneath his pallid surface one likewise neurotic. He channels it, but I suppose every dam can have a burst. We like homesteading. He likes fermenting. So many creature comforts line up. And when we speak it feels like two ends of the same mind- conversing pleasantly with itself.

well he likes kissing me. is he prone to a sex life? is he prone to a life - interspersed with me in it? me, and how I do what I love, does he want to keep it under his wing? how timidly do I pluck his strings, to see what music they make. the strings start slow, and begin to pick up faster and faster, till they ululate and play a song, i get larger and larger entranced by. Till it stops, he recedes, guarding of his song. (still some chimes chirp through in between sips of coors lite)

We are at present, both tortured people. I'm parsing his online diary! I'm privy to this! and he puts it out, for the world, for eyes like mine to gaze wide eyed and thread deeper. Our tortures are ripe, underneath the skin, waiting to burst.

He swims into the social circle nicely. He enjoys my friends, they enjoy him. He's making a darling effort, putting together a dolly for Bo, we chat so nicely with Coletre. He asks after potential male threats around me - Gabe. Well Gabe is cute, what can I say, and yet gay!

I'm blunt to … Uriah? my instinct reaches for this name. "Do you want to have sex more?" "More than once a week?" "Yeah. you made me horny. I thought about being a hoe this week, but then I thought better of it." "Don't you like to be a hoe?" "……..no……. not really." and it's true. I prefer the quality over the quantity.

Maybe he just thinks of me as some sex on the side. I suppose I can be that. Just some exotic sex on the side. a pretty package for fucking. I think he thinks of me as that. I shall not dole it out too heavily then. until he sees me in the full conception of myself. i'm more than just the sex I want.

When we are together, it seems rushed. I want it to be slow, drawn out, investigated. I'm nervous and I rush things in my nervousness. slowing down has been part of what I've wanted for a while, to move with a bit more investigation.

my cloying suspicion is that i'm just a pretty bit of sex on the side, and not worth abandoning the loneliness he's committing to. His words, books, himself, a bit of work. and Loneliness. He wants to do his MFA in creative writing at UBC. I'm sure he'll find a pretty white girl to adulate. He wants to go back to the place I fled. I wonder if that should be in store for me, does he want me there, or shall we briefly touch genitals and ricochet backwards. He's pursuing what I want to pursue. How nice it would be to reach together, bounce the ideas off each other. He seemed encouraging of this, almost, almost.

Does he grasp me there in the future? Can he foresee a shadow of domestic bliss?

Him bending over me and giving me a kiss before he left in the morning. Why does he look at me sheepishly. I want to leave him alone till he feels strong in distinction. Perhaps that's the course I ought to take, and go on flitting about my little social circle. Making do alone, and not letting this sweet man with our conjugal hobbies and words, get me all worked up.

Are there more Marc's in Montreal? Certainly. More Uriah's? I'm not sure. I like his package. I like the space he's drawn for himself - so close to mine. Could he really upend his life for UBC? Tony, his cat? Does he need an MFA in creative writing to carve out the his practice? To create of your own accord- that is difficult. To accrue debt for the solace of being a student - well it does feel quite nice. Academia is a cozy blanket, one that I too long for. The structure, and the milieu, the likeminds.

I wonder how he might characterize me as one of his romantic interests. All his relationships with women have been fraught, he says. I do feel this tension. It's in his spatial reticence, when we are together the thoughts flow so readily however. And away - what does he think. As a cat who goes to and fro. curled up in a corner or batting a fly. Licking his paws.

These writers. I'm locked into a special language with them, trickling down from the words themselves. am I strong enough to withstand the tumult of not-knowing? ought I go on looking for others to sate my yearning for transcendental language exchange? I make love with everything I love. my art. My home. my friends save for genitalia, and my amours - i can't help but express myself fecundly. an extension of feeling. is it the whole of me? I don't know. I'm being very careful with this one.

My softness needs a place to spill- it cannot all be with him. I need my art. I need a cat. I need my friends. I need to spill, spill elsewhere so that I don't drown sticky in the after puddle.

The Montrealer habit of puttering till dusk. Then the birds may cry.

(I can't help but keep parsing his catalog of relationship tragedies) (mentally i'm already breaking up with him, to save myself the strife) (could building together be as supportive as a whole academic regime?) (I want him to stay) (i'm detaching - people never stay- they leave and disappoint me; my love. They see me wholly and they leave. Ought I to do it first, and keep myself to myself. Forever shaded with pincers. He who wants me will want me. I crave to be wanted impolitely, within the safety of tasteful foundations.)

(he respects me, but does he want me?)

[buildmeafairytale]

Demon Boyfriends: Elow &Siphorus

Suprise! I wrote something! What’s better than one demon boyfriend, you ask? Two demon boyfriends, duh. I started this literal months ago, and I’m not going to lie, it's very self indulgent and porny. My praise kink is clear and in full swing. I was going to make one of the characters a hard core brat but he turned soft, what can I say. Anyways, I hope you guys like this! This is a link to my Ko-Fi, everything is appreciated but nothing is expected. <3

Life has been going great for you. Too great, really. You landed a well paying job in a cute small town named Talon Valley. You found the cottage of your dreams in the forest a few miles out of town. It was perfectly desolate and had a garden already set up in the back, as well as shelves that will work perfectly to store your potions. You already picked a great altar space, as well. It was your first time living alone, and you were excited to finally practice your craft in peace. 

Except there was no peace, and you soon discovered you were not alone. At first, the misplaced items didn’t phase you. You were still unpacking and you really didn’t know where you set things most of the time anyway. Only after the first couple weeks when things were supposed to be in their places, did you start to notice. 

You were a witch, sure. But that didn’t mean you weren’t easily spooked. You didn’t want to make things worse, so instead of doing a cleanse that could anger something stronger than you, you did a few charms and protection spells on yourself. That did nothing to stop the tiny torments. If anything, they increased. Not only were several potions moved, but they were mixed together haphazardly. Then your blinds would open after you had closed them, or your fridge would be left cracked. All harmless things, but knowing someone or something else was doing this was enough to have you constantly on edge. You just wanted to relax, dammit!

You never thought of this side of living alone. During the day, you were living in a beautiful cottage in the lush green forest, but at night it felt as though you were in a haunted cabin in the woods. You really couldn’t take it anymore. You had cried and whimpered all night when you felt you were being watched, and by the time the sun rose you had resolved to deal with this. 

You gathered some materials and made your way out of the house. After all, a summoning spell required a lot of concentration and you certainly wouldn't be able to do it in there. You found a nice clearing not too far from your home, and set up. You lit a few candles, did a few incantations, and waited. You were about to give up when, in a puff of smoke, a demon appeared. They were crouched down with blue flames dancing around them, but even still they seemed massive.

As the demon uncurled and stood himself upright, it seemed as though more and more limbs appeared. You counted six arms coming out of him, his whole body a gradient of black to white. His pitch black fingertips seemed as though they were covered in soot, and as you got closer to the middle of his body his skin was more and more milky white. Hooved feet clap on the ground. He had dark eyes and horns like a ram’s curled on the side of their head, with long black hair in between, and he towered over you.

He lowered himself and took your shaking hand in one of his large ones, his pure white eyes staring at you. 

“It is lovely to meet you, my master,” his voice is like velvet, and he flashes you his sharp teeth at you before placing a gentle kiss on the back of your hand. “They call me Siphorus. I cannot wait to be of service to you.”

You let out a bleating laugh, unsure what to make of this. You weren’t expecting such a large and powerful demon to come; you weren’t even out of the broom closet and this kind of thing should take years of real practice. 

“Um, master?”

He chuckled under his breath, “Yes, master,” he rose, “You summoned me and I am under your command. I promise to fulfil anything you ask of me.”

You ignored his suggestive promise. Smooth as he may be, you were out in the middle of the woods for a more important reason. “You can just call me Lily if you’d like? And well, I sort of need your help with something?”

“Like I said, I am under your command, master,” he prompts you, a clawed finger lifting your chin up. 

“There’s something in my house,” you tell him, clearing your throat and putting some space in between the two of you. “Something spooky and it...watches me I think. I don’t know how to make it go away by myself.” 

“A powerful witch such as yourself?” he frowns “No matter, I shall play the role of your gallant protector.” 

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. Honestly, who talks like that? For someone who looks so formidable, he’s a bit on the odd side. At least he is going to help you. 

He starts towards your house, although you aren’t sure how he knows the way.

“Ah yes, I can feel his presence here.” Siphorus opens the door for you with a flourishing gesture.

 As soon as one of his hooved feet lands on the other side of your doorway, chaos breaks out. Cabinets are slamming, furniture is being overturned, and the lights are flickering. 

“She is MY master! GET OUT!” A voice yells out as lightbulbs start to explode. You let out a scream as glass flies at you, covering your face and burying it in the stomach of the demon by your side. With a wave of his hand Siphorus halts the glass midair, something you probably could have done if you hadn’t been so panicked. You step away from him once again, your face hot. You try to convince yourself it’s from his inner hellfire, but you aren’t too sure. 

Siphorus clicks his tongue in a disapproving manner. “Now now, let us not make a mess of our sweet Lilians home, hm?” 

An angry hissing sound responds back, things slamming and shaking but nothing as messy. 

“This is quite the tantrum. Honestly, show yourself and be gone!” Siphorus calls out, and a figure starts to appear. 

White hot flames spiral out in your living room and from within it steps another demon. This one is almost as tall as Siphorus, but not quite. He is lanky, and his skin textured, light colored but red seemed to be pumping underneath, as if it was scar tissue. This one only has one pair of arms, and has no hair. His eyes are cat-like and stare straight at Siphorus, flames around him roaring even stronger.

“GET OUT!” the figure yells, and you flinch into Siphorus once again. 

The flames suddenly go out, and you turn to see the other demon looking at you now.

“What,” he paused, swallowing thickly. “What is going on? Did you...find a new demon?” He asked, his voice sounding distraught.  “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You stand there confused at his words. He doesn’t sound scary at all, if anything he sounds heartbroken. The fear melts away, and you take a step away from Siphorus. 

“What do you mean a new demon? This one belong to you?” Siphorus asks, eyebrow raised. You just shake your head, and he heaves a dramatic sigh. 

“Of course I belong to her. I became attached to her weeks ago and she brought me home. She was walking in the forest and I felt her energy. It was lonely so I came with,” he hissed these words out, eyes turned to slits. 

“She was scared and I had to keep her safe! She was making protection charms and satchels and sticking them everywhere.” 

“From you, you nimwit! She didn’t even know you were in the house!” Siphorus admonishes him, “You should have at least presented yourself!”

His face falls further and the demon places himself on one of your dining room chairs, dwarfing it.

“But, she never asked for me? I was never summoned to do her bidding, or had any reason to show myself. I just thought she knew I was here, and would ask me if she needed anything. Since she didn’t ask, I just watched over her.” he sniffles, and you get a knot in your throat. 

A pitiful “Oh,” passes through your lips. You move over to him, letting him scoop you onto his lap.

“I just wanted to be a good demon, I’d never had a master that was such a nice witch,” he whines high in the back of his throat, nosing at your hair. You coo at him the way you would a scared puppy, doting on him with attention and sweet pets on his scarred and hairless head.

You then hear a scoff from Siphorus, both you and the new demon turning to look at him.

“What?”

“The two of you are absolutely pitiful, do you know that?” Siphorus asks, baffled.

You stay cuddled up, “Well, wait - what is your name?” you look up into his eyes, his fangs pushing into his soft looking lips. 

“Elow, master,” he replies into your hair, still trying to get as close as possible to you. 

“Elow, it’s nice to meet you,” you tell him, giving him a sweet smile he readily returns. “Well I’m absolutely fine with Elow staying. And I don’t think we’re pitiful.”

Siphorus sputters. “Well, I suppose we have a bit of a problem, then. You summoned me to get rid of him, and I cannot leave until your summons are completed.” 

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I just don’t feel good about making him leave now, Siphorus.” You tell him, and feel Elows long arms wrap even tighter around you.

“Yes, Siphorus. Please don’t make me leave now,” Elow asks him, eyes wide.

You assure Siphorus you will help him in any way that you can. 

“You can stay here until we figure out how to let you go back, of course. I- do you sleep?” you ask them. “I can get some rooms ready for you!” And you scurry off, hoping that the two demons get along.

You aren’t sure how to act now that you have both demons staying in your home. Firstly, you layout some ground rules as far as Elow touching your potions and leaving the fridge door open. He looks so sad after your gentle scolding, so you take some time to comfort him as well. The two of you snuggle up on your small couch and watch a movie. He’s informed you that he has been starved of contact for a long while, and he basks in your touch. You enjoy it as well, and his warmth lulls you to sleep. When the two of you wake, you are covered in a blanket. It’s soft and black, and not one you had seen before. It smelled slightly of fire. 

The three of you had settled into a routine. On the days you went to work, you came home to a clean house, and a meal. It was all so domestic, and occasionally one or both of your demons would produce a human glamour and come with you into town. They always kept on sunglasses, though, because they couldn’t change their eyes. You doubt the inhabitants of Talon Valley would mind. Siphorus had informed you that most of the people living here were some kind of supernatural being. As a witch, you fit right in.

So well, in fact, that you had befriended another witch already. She was much more confident in her abilities, and had already figured out a solution to Siphorus being stuck with you. 

Coming back from a visit with her, you had mixed feelings. You had a solution, sure, but you had grown so fond of your demon. You didn’t want to let him go, and already felt hollow just thinking about him departing. You creak the front door open while lost in thought and were unprepared for what you were seeing. Standing in shock, you take in the scene before you.

 Through the doorway, you can see Elow on top of Siphorus. His head is thrown back, and high pitched moans leave him. You can make out the deep bass of Siphorus encouraging him as Elow bounces on his cock, thoroughly impaled. Siphous is leaning back on one set of hands, with the others on either side of Elow’s hips and face. Elow’s own hardness bobs between his thighs, long and thick. It’s textured like the rest of him, but redder.  You feel your own face get hot, and the gasp that leaves your lips is what finally catches your demons’ attention. 

Elow is embarrassed and won’t look at you, trying to hide behind a tangle of sooty arms. Siphorus just smirks at you, taking in your doe-eyed appearance. You feel as if your heartbeat is between your legs. 

“Isn’t our Elow so beautiful,” he draws out, running his hand along the other demon’s flank. Elow shudders, still fully seated, and you nod. “So beautiful, so good for me. For us,” he purrs into Elow’s ear, his milky eyes still locked on yours. This time Elow actually moans, weather that be from the thickness spearing him open or the words alone, you are unsure. Siphorus beacons you closer, and you feel as though you are under a spell.

With a touch of your magic, the door is shut and locked. Your feet carry you closer to them, and Elow peaks at you, somehow both demure and debauched. He isn’t much smaller than Siphorus, really, but he looks tiny like this. He whispers a “Hi,” into your hand, kissing it gently. You return the sentiment, caressing his face. He squirms and whimpers, and you see his cock jump. “Oh, honey,” you coo, and pull him in for a sweet kiss. One of Siphorus’s hands tangles in your hair, while the other of the set is on Elow’s head, encouraging you two. He encourages you vocally too, his pleased throaty moans making your kiss turn feverish. 

“Join us, master,” Siphorus implores you, a hand wandering down your thigh.

Behind the lust you feel for them, a sense of nervous insecurity rises when you go to take your clothes off. You pull off your outerwear, taking your time. Your demons must sense your hesitance, as they pull you between their intertwined forms, Elow at your back.

“Shh master, just focus on my hands,” Elow tells you, ever so sweet. His hands move along your breasts, kneading the flesh there. One rises up, covering your throat. He doesn’t apply any pressure, just holds his hand there. His thumb comes up to brush along your lips, and you take it into your mouth without a conscious thought, sucking and wrapping your tongue around it, an action that draws moans from both of your demons. 

“Do not try to hide from us,” Siphorus’s voice is but an echoing growl, teeth pressing into your ear. “We can smell you, master. The air is thick with your want, let us serve you.” From where you rest on his torso, you can feel his hips moving, along with Elow’s hardness pressing against your lower back. You whimper around the thumb in your mouth, eyes rolling to the back of your head. 

Elow removes his hands, and you let out a pleading moan, not wanting them to stop.

“You have to tell us, master. Tell us what you want, and it’s yours, please,” Elow says, his voice a breath of a whisper.

“Yes, darling, just tell us,” Siphorus echoes the sentiment, and you feel dizzy with want.

“Please,” you breath out, “Please touch me. Take me,” you plead to them. 

No sooner do the words leave your lips their hands wrap back around you. You push your butt back onto Elow’s pulsing cock, rolling against it. He whimpers out, and you can only imagine how full he must feel. You use your magic to take your clothes off, not wanting to break the contact with your lovers. Feeling them against your skin is worth any nervousness you may have been feeling. Siphorus captures your mouth in a kiss, and although you may be his master, it is clear who is in control. The press of his teeth to your lips has your hips jerking, and you’re sure they can both feel how wet you are perched on Siphorus’s muscular abdomen. 

Siphorus’s hips are moving harder now, meeting Elow’s bouncing ass. A pair of Siphorus’s hands wrap around your hips and in one fluid motion, hovers you on top of his face. Your hands find his horns, steading yourself. He makes a loud, wounded noise at your grip, and Elow moans out at the particularly hard thrust that follows. You take that as a sign to loosen your hold, and pack his reaction away in the back of your mind for another day. You then look down and see Siphorus’s tongue, so very long and pink, seeking out your heat. 

He suddenly growls, and flips you around so that you’re facing Elow, and his tongue presses into you. It stretches you and you feel it press against your walls, long enough that it can still curve to press to your clit. The sensations are overwhelming, and you cannot help but rock against them.

You get to watch Elow being fucked, and you meet his mouth in a frenzied kiss. Both of you are being held tight by Siphorus’s hands, being pleasured by him. The hands around Elow are thrusting him up and down, and the peek you get of Siphorus’s member has you clenching harder around his tongue. He laps up the wetness spilling from you as if he is starved, the noises coming from him sound as if he is tasting salvation. Elow acts much the same, drinking from your mouth as if it is the finest wine. 

You feel all too much and not enough, and you wrap a hand around Elow’s cock. It’s hot and heavy in your grip, and Elow turns to putty, begging. 

“Please don’t stop, please master,” he whines, high in his throat. Incoherent noises keep coming, and you assure him you won’t stop, pressing yourself further onto Siphorus. 

“Not gonna stop honey, wanna make you feel good. Such a sweet demon, aren’t you? My sweet demon.” You praise him and his movements turn jerky. The noises leaving him become even more frantic and high pitched. He reaches a crescendo and spills into your hand, covering you in his thick white cum. You don’t stop until he is pulling away from your hand, a whimpering mess convulsing on your other demon's cock. Your other demon, who is now redoubling his assault against your cunt, seems close as well. You watch him tense up and with an animalistic grunt, fill up Elow with his seed. His tongue is still fucking into you, and the visual he and Elow provide is all that is needed to push you over the edge, tensing and jerking away as your climax leaves you breathless. 

The three of you pull yourselves apart, you considerably more out of breath than your demons, who are much quicker to recover. Elow is behind you while Siphorus leans upright against the couch, stretching out his many muscles and preening before you. You let your eyes rake over him, and you feel desire bubbling in your skin. 

His nostrils flare, and his eyes dig into you even harder, predatory. You feel your heart pound and you’re sure he can smell your want, just as he said. 

“Oh, Lily, you think we are done with you?” Siphorus asks you, reaching over to tuck a sweat soaked strand of hair away from your face. 

“I hope not,” you whisper out, ignoring how hot you feel your face getting. You gnaw on your lip, and feel Elow stretch his arms out. You lean into them, already feeling breathless. 

“C’mere master, please? Can I have you this way?” He asks, tucking you to his front. One hand moves to rest on your throat while the other goes to your leg. You nod eagerly, letting him hoist your leg up as he nudges his member against your opening. He ruts against you before seating himself inside in one lazy thrust. All of your nerve endings are ablaze, and your hands wrap around his forearm, keeping his hand pressed against your neck. He keeps a slow pace, and molasses runs through your veins. The moans that leave you sound desperate, and you watch as Siphorus fists his cock, his other hands tweaking his nipples and moving up and down his body. 

You can feel the magic he is putting off, and it’s as if his hands are touching you from where he is in front of you. He is content with watching this time, it seems. 

“Deeper, Elow. Give it to her deeper.” Not just watching then, apparently. He is giving orders as well. You moan out as Elow follows his direction and presses deeper into you, an eager “Yes'' leaving his lips. A phantom hand, courtesy of Siphorus, is circling your clit. The slow but persistent pleasure had you throbbing and jerking back into Elows arms, the two of you overstimulated together in the best of ways. More phantom hands ghost over you and go to Elow, who lets out a whorish moan at the feeling. 

“Good boy, just like that,” Siphorus praises and nods.

 You whimpered and met his milky gaze, “You too darling, you’re such a good girl for us. Such a good little master, aren’t you?” he asks, his smirk downright predatory. 

His words pull a noise out of you that you didn’t think you were capable of making. Between his words, phantom hands, and Elow’s deep movements massaging your inner walls, you don’t last long. You feel yourself tense again, sparks flying through your veins as you milk the cock nestled deep inside you. Siphorus is still talking to the two of you, praising you though you can’t make out the words. Elow finishes too, locking himself inside you as he fills you with his seed. He grunts and makes breathy sounds into your neck as he continues to fill you.The warmth of it has aftershocks rippling through you, and you lean your head back against his shoulder as the two of you enjoy your afterglow. He slips from you minutes later, and you feel his plentiful cum running down the inside of your thighs. You should feel a bit grossed out, but all you feel is sated and claimed.  

Siphorus must have finished with you as well, since you feel tendrils of his magic cleaning you up. They run up and down your body, prompting you to further melt into them. Your eyes peek open and he is there, smiling and pressing his lips to your forehead. “Shh, let me get us comfortable,” he tells you, before conjuring up a nest of blankets and cushions for you, all with a subtle fiery scent. You and Elow don’t even have to move, all the better since you still very much feel boneless. If Elow’s soft and content noises are anything to go by, he feels the same. Siphorus nuzzles himself in, the three of you tangled together. 

“May I admit something, my dearests?” he asks us, answered only with a humming affirmative.

“I- Well, I didn’t have to stay. I’ve been free to leave but I just really, really wanted to stay.” You had not heard him sound so vulnerable before, and you squeeze one of his hands. You’re surprised, but not upset by the news. If anything, it lifts a weight off of your shoulders.

“Pft, tell me something I did not already know,” Elow teases him, his eyes still closed and a smile on his face. 

Siphorus sputters, taken aback, but it turns into hearty laughter. 

“I’m glad you stayed,” you tell him, kissing him in your half - asleep state.  

The blankets and content hum of magic in the air lull you to sleep, surrounded by your loves.

[jenstar1992-2]

Here with You

Pairing: Echo x reader/ Hunter x reader

Warnings: Mentions of nightmares/ trauma, reliving a traumatic experience, Order 66 (because it’s a warning in itself)

Word count: 7,103

A/N: Well, I knew it, it hasn’t been a whole day since I saw the Bad Batch premiere, and I’ve already gotten my first writing idea (yes, this took me like two days to write because I kept getting interrupted). I just couldn’t get the image of my poor baby Echo in that med bay and seeing the trauma those damned Separatists caused him out of my head. All I want to do is hold him and never let go, he deserves the world. This was originally just going to be an Echo x reader, but it turned into a Hunter x reader as well, because I just couldn’t help myself, I love them both, and wanted both of them to get some lovins. Also, I get the sense that Omega is a smart kid, and that she’s pretty well spoken, so I tried to write her as such, while still keeping that childlike innocence, so hopefully it comes across that way.

So much had transpired within the last few days and you were still trying to wrap your head around all of it. The jedi had been almost entirely wiped out in a single day, and while you were certain their had to be other survivors besides yourself, you were unclear as to what that number was. Luckily for you, you had been amongst friends when Order 66 was given, and your men turned on you. If it weren’t for the Bad Batch, you were certain you wouldn’t be alive right now.

As you sat in the cockpit of the Marauder, the memories began to flood your brain, which caused involuntary tears to fill your eyes.

You and your men had been sent to Kaller to aid Master Billaba and her troops. However, upon your arrival, you were greeted with a pleasant surprise. It turned out, Clone Force 99 had been on planet already and had taken out a large amount of the droids before you even landed.

You had worked with this group before and had even enjoyed the experience. While your men thought their tactics and unprofessional antics were unnecessary and even a bit annoying, you found the group to be, for lack of a better term, fun. You had been around stuffy, uptight individuals for so long, it was nice to have a change of pace, and while your men were great, they tended to be sticklers for the rules and rarely wanted to take risks.

You also got along with this team rather well, enough to consider them good friends, but you were especially close with their newest recruit. You and Echo had known each other well before he joined the Bad Batch, even before his accident at the citadel, and had been friends for just as long, although as time went by and you found yourself encountering him more and more in your life, you slowly realized you might feel more for the trooper than you should, more than you’d ever admit aloud. So, when you’d heard of his survival and rescue, you had been elated, and that happiness resurfaced at the thought of seeing him again.

You exited the gunship and saw the rag-tag group of clones speaking with Master Billaba on the now quiet battlefield. They turned as you and your men made your approach. As you got closer to the group, you scanned the faces of its members before you found him, smiling brightly as your eyes connected, he did the same.

You came to stand before their leader, raising your gaze to meet the man’s unwavering stare.

“Sergeant”, you greeted him, extending a hand formally, which he took without hesitation, shaking it firmly.

“General, good to see you again”, he said with a smile.

“You too”, you responded.

You’d always liked Hunter, from the beginning he’d always struck you as a respectable man, and you admired the fact that he could allow his men to be their reckless selves while also keeping them in line, but only when necessary, it seemed. There was something else too, something you hadn’t noticed right away, but after a few more encounters with the man, you put it together, coming to an all to familiar realization, one that brought butterflies to your stomach, while also bringing about a slight anxiety. How could you let this happen, it was bad enough falling for one man you couldn’t have, but two, you were sure the universe was out to hurt you.

“General (L/N), I’m glad to see your trip was a safe one, and better late than never I suppose”, Depa said, drawing you from Hunter’s gaze to hers.

“Sorry Master Billaba, we were assisting Masters Luminara and Yoda on Kashyyyk when we got word of your need for reinforcements, we got here as soon as we could”, you said, then looking around at the desolated droids scattered across the landscape. “Although, from what I can tell, you seem to now have a handle on things.”

“Yeah, thanks to these guys”, Caleb, Depa’s padawan, exclaimed, gesturing to the group of men before you. “You should’ve seen it, they took all those droids out in a matter of minutes, it was incredible.”

You chuckled. “Yes, I’m well aware of the marvel that is Clone Force 99, and they do put on quite the show”, you said, shooting a quick glance Echo’s way. “Incredible indeed.”

Your words caused the trooper to smile shyly at you.

“Yes, well, we’re still glad you’re here, we just launched a counterattack, and the more assistance, the better”, Depa said.

You nodded. “You need us, we’ll stay”, you said before turning to your troops. “Men, a counterattack has been launched, I want you to rendezvous with Master Billaba’s troops and aid in the attack, Commander Roran, you’re with me. Let’s move!”

With that your troops dispersed, leaving you and your commander where you stood. You turned back to face everyone.

“So, how can we help”, you asked.

“Actually, I don’t think we’ll be needing your assistance after all, in fact, this war might soon be over”, Tech spoke up, causing you to give him a confused look.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, according to the encrypted comm chatter, Jedi General Obi-Wan Kenobi has found and engaged General Grievous on Utapau”, he responded.

“If he captures, or kills Grievous, the separatist command structure will collapse”, Echo chimed in.

“And most likely the droid armies along with them”, Tech finished.

“It can’t be that easy, can it”, you asked, looking to the jedi master.

“While it is an interesting theory, I would not bet our hopes on it, we should focus on the task at hand”, she replied.

“I agree, we should focus our energy on this attack, strike while we have the advantage”, you said.

Hunter nodded. “Any orders, or shall we do what we do”, he asked, directing his words at Depa.

“What do you think General, should we let them ‘do what they do’”, she asked you.

You chuckled and folded your arms over your chest. “Probably our best bet, what do you think Caleb”, you asked the padawan.

“I say we let them, but only if I can go with them”, he responded.

You looked to his master, raising an eyebrow in question.

“Very well”, she said, giving the boy permission.

“Ronan and I will tag along too”, you stated, then looking to Hunter. “Just in case you guys need a hand.”

“Hope that wasn’t a jab at me”, Echo said, coming to stand beside you while simultaneously lifting his cybernetic arm.

You immediately regretted your choice in words and stammered your defense.

“N- no, I didn’t mean, I would never.”

He let out an amused laugh. “I’m just messing with you General, sorry”, he said.

You then scowled at him before poking a finger at his chest plate.

“Not funny”, you said, but couldn’t keep the smile from forming on your face.

“I said I was sorry”, you heard him say as you began walking in the direction your troops had gone. He soon caught up and walked alongside you.

You chuckled. “Well, it’s nice to know you haven’t lost your sense of humor.”

“Nah, but I did lose a couple other things”, he said, face turning slightly serious.

You stopped walking and just stood for a moment, a sad expression now adorning your features. Noticing your actions, Echo ceased his movements as well and looked back to you.

“What is it”, he asked.

You went to stand in front of him before you spoke your next words. “Echo, I am sorry for your loss, truly I am, but honestly, I’d rather you be here and missing a few limbs, then for you to not be here at all. I’m just glad your alive, and that I get to see you again.”

He stared at you for a moment with an unreadable expression before smiling and nodding.

“I guess you’re right, and I’m glad our paths crossed again, I…”, he began, clearly wanting to say more, but stopping himself. You caught on though and decided to voice it for him.

“I missed you too”, you said, giving him a warm smile, prompting one of his own.

You both began walking once more to catch up with your comrades.

“You know, I was actually surprised you recognized me, what with the countless differences and all” he said with a chuckle.

You shook your head. “You can change all you want, I’ll still know it’s you”, you said.

“Yeah?”

“Yep, you might’ve changed a lot on the outside, but inside, you’re still the same Echo I’ve always known and loved”, you said, saying the words before they fully registered with your brain, but once they did you nearly froze in your stacks, your face instantly reddening with embarrassment. You quickly tried to back track before he could respond. “I mean, uh, well, y- you know what I mean.” Smooth.

He chuckled, amused at your obvious embarrassment of your less-than-ideal choice of words yet again.

“It’s okay, I know what you mean”, he said, giving you a reassuring smile before seemingly letting the subject drop, much to your relief.

You nodded as you carried on toward the others.

Suddenly, a wave of emotions flooded your mind, and it was as if hundreds of voices were crying out within the confines of your skull. You stopped, placing a hand to the side of your head in an attempt to stop the dizziness that accompanied the voices.

Echo noticed and came to your side, placing a steadying hand to your back.

“Are you okay”, he asked, clearly concerned.

“S- somethings wrong, I feel… death, so much death, I don’t know…”, you began through heavy breathes, but you were soon cut off by the sound of blaster fire.

You both looked to see Master Billaba’s men attempting to gun her down as she deflected their blasts with her lightsaber. Before you could fully process the sight in front of you, you heard Caleb yell for his master, seeing him rush past you, saber ignited and ready to jump to her aid.

“Caleb, no…”, you shouted, but before you could run after him a burning pain in your left arm stopped you.

You grabbed your now wounded arm and turned to see Roran facing you, blaster raised and aimed directly at you.

“Commander”, you said in confusion, but before you could get another word out, he was firing again. You were able to deflect the blasts with your saber, yelling at him as you did so. “Roran, why are you doing this?”

Suddenly, the blasts stopped as Echo came to your aid, wrestling the blaster out of the commander’s hands before knocking him out cold. He then rushed to your side once more, seeing you kneeling and clutching your head.

“General, (Y/N), (Y/N), can you hear me? Say something”, he urged, but try as you might, you couldn’t form the words to respond.

Your head was swimming in a sea of pain, death, and betrayal, most of which you were certain weren’t coming from you, more like from the force itself. You’d felt disturbances in the force before, but none like this, it was all encompassing and soon you found yourself slipping from consciousness from the intensity of it all.

***

When you finally came to, you found yourself laying in a bunk aboard the Havoc Marauder. When you tried to sit up a hand caught your shoulder and gently coaxed you back down.

“Easy (Y/N), you don’t want to push yourself, you sustained a pretty bad injury, you should rest”, a familiar voice said softly.

“Echo, what, what happened… they turned on us, why would they do that”, you asked, looking at him with confusion and sadness mixing in your expression.

“I don’t know, we’re still trying to figure that out ourselves, but you’re safe now, I won’t let them hurt you again, you have my word. Now rest”, he said, trying to comfort you, but knowing it wouldn’t help much given what you’d just been through.

“No”, you heard someone say, the volume of it startling you slightly, and you looked to see that it was Hunter, who had just entered.

“What do you mean ‘no’”, Echo asked him, confused.

“I mean, she can’t stay here, it’s not safe”, he explained, and when you both gave him a befuddled look, he continued, “It’s Crosshair, there’s… something wrong with him. I think whatever happened to those soldiers is happening to him too, but I can’t be sure.”

“What makes you think that”, you questioned, finally sitting up and turning to place your feet on the floor.

He looked behind him, making sure you three were the only ones in ear shot before bending down to your level.

“He tried to kill that padawan”, he said, so low it was almost a whisper.

“Caleb, is he alright”, you asked, fear and concern thick in your voice.

“He’s alive, but other than that, I’m not sure. He ran off after…”, he began, but the words died on his lips.

You nodded in understanding. “So, what should I do, where should I go?”

“Stay here, on Kaller, find somewhere to hide. We’ll go back to Kamino and sort this out, once it’s safe, we’ll come back for you”, he said.

You nodded, agreeing to do as he said, knowing you really had no other option at this point.

Shortly after this conversation you readied yourself to leave, Tech giving you some medical supplies in case you would need to re-bandage your arm before they returned.

Echo ended up accompanying you in your search for shelter, telling the others he wasn’t going anywhere until he knew you’d found somewhere safe to stay. You had resisted the gesture, wanting him to get as far away from danger as possible, but he insisted.

You found a cave a few miles from the ship’s current location and decided it was as good a place as any to crash for, what you were hoping would only be, a few days.

“You sure you’re going to be okay here”, Echo asked, looking into the cold, dark cave.

“I’ll be fine, I’ve stayed in worse places. Besides, it’s the safest place we’ll find in the wilderness, and it’s dark, perfect for hiding”, you said in a poor attempt to lighten the mood, you didn’t know why, force of habit you guessed. Although, all this earned you was a sad smile from the trooper.

“We’ll be back soon, just stay out of sight until then, okay?”

You gave a small smile, bringing your hand up to your forehead for a two fingered salute. “Yes sir”, you said. This actually earned you a small laugh, which at this moment was music to your ears. You lowered your hand and looked into his eyes, taking on a more serious expression. “Just… be safe.”

“I should be telling you that”, he said.

“Yeah, well, I beat you to it”, you said, half grinning.

“I will if you will.”

You nodded. “Then I will.”

Suddenly your body was moving without you telling it to, and you found yourself wrapping him in a tight hug, closing your eyes to keep from crying, and soon the gesture was returned, leaving the both of you in a long embrace.

“Don’t forget me, okay”, you said, the threat of tears evident in your voice.

He squeezed you a little tighter. “Never.”

***

Turns out, you didn’t have to hide out in that cave long at all, as they had returned to retrieve you within two days’ time, with a new crew member, but without Crosshair. You two hadn’t been the best of friends by any means, and the man’s standoffishness really irked you sometimes, but you’d always known that deep down, he wasn’t such a bad guy. So, when the boys had told you what had happened between their return to Kamino and their escape from the planet, it put a surprising strain on your heart. You wanted to be angry with Crosshair for his actions, for attempting to kill Caleb and other innocents, but you just couldn’t, especially after you were informed of the inhibitor chips planted within every clone trooper. You couldn’t be mad at him, you couldn’t hate him, because it wasn’t his fault, it wasn’t any of their faults, they were being used just like the jedi had been, if not more so, and this knowledge extinguished any hatred that had grown in you since the day that order was given.

Thinking back on all of this had you shedding silent tears as you watched the streaks of light pass before your eyes, attempting to let yourself to be swept away in the beauty that was hyperspace. This always seemed to calm your mind, but it didn’t seem to be working this time, so you simply stared and let the tears run down your cheeks.

“Hey, you okay”, Hunter asked from the seat beside you, having temporarily taken over piloting the ship in order to allow the others to rest.

You were snapped out of your thoughts by his words and quickly wiped the tears from your face before answering.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine, still just trying to figure all of this out”, you replied somberly.

He nodded. “I understand, we still don’t have it all figured out either and with every answer comes new questions”, he said.

You hummed in agreement. “I guess my biggest question is, why now, why did Palpatine wait so long to put this grand plan in action? I mean, he could’ve done it years ago, but no, he waited… waited for us to get close to those who would eventually become our executioners, and worse, he took away their free will to do it. Those troopers, they weren’t the men they used to be, it’s like they were brainwashed.”

“Tech said they were programmed and when the chips were activated, it basically took over their minds, so I guess, in a way, they are brainwashed”, Hunter said, looking back out at the blue glow of hyperspace.

“Those poor men”, you said after a moment of silence.

Hunter turned his head to look at you, an astonished expression over his features, he then let out an amused huff.

“You are truly a wonder, you know that?”

“What”, you asked him, confused by the comment.

“Even after everything you’ve been through, and after what they did to you and your kin, you still feel pity for them”, he explained. “You’ve always been able to see people for who they really are, and forgive them for their faults, it’s commendable, and it’s something I’ve always admired about you.”

“You admire me”, you asked, raising an eyebrow and grinning in amusement.

He gave you a single nod. “Always have”, he said, giving you a soft smile.

The way he was looking at you made your cheeks begin to heat as a light blush covered them, and you turned away in an attempt to hide it, but he noticed, and his smile widened a bit as he looked back out the view port.

“I think you’re right by the way, about Palpatine waiting so long to execute his plan. I think he wanted you all to build those relationships, that trust, with your men, so that, when the time came, he could not only take you all out, but destroy your conviction as well”, he said, his voice lower than before.

“That’s a bit ominous, given our current situation”, you said, only half joking.

He turned to you suddenly, eyebrows raised in mild shock.

“(Y/N), you don’t think we’d… we’d never hurt you, I’d never hurt you, we’re on your side, I promise”, he said, hurt in his eyes. Did you really not trust him?

Seeing his reaction made your heart squeeze, you hadn’t meant to hurt him, you were just confused and scared. You felt as if your whole world had come crumbling down around you, and you were still trying to resurface from the rubble. But you knew you were wrong for thinking, even for a second, that you couldn’t trust Hunter and his men.

“I know, I’m sorry. I do trust you, all of you”, you said, trying to sound reassuring, but it only came out as sadness.

It looked as if the sergeant was contemplating something, his hands reflexively grabbing at nothing as they opened and closed on his lap. You knew he wanted to do something, wanted to comfort you, but he also didn’t want to invade your space, worried that would be crossing a line. So, you took the initiative.

You reached over and took one of his hands from his lap, holding it softly before giving it a reassuring squeeze and sending a smile his way. This prompted him to smile back, and you both just sat like that for a minute.

Suddenly, you heard a commotion from the bunks, and your name being called out by a desperate voice.

Recognizing the voice, you jumped up from your seat. “Echo”, you said, concern in your tone, before looking back to Hunter.

He simply nodded. “Go”, he said softly.

You gave a confirming nod and let go of the hand you’d still been holding, before quickly making your way to the bunks.

When you entered the room, it took you a second to assess the situation before you. Echo was laying in his bunk, breathing heavy, head shaking from side to side, and body trembling, as if he were in a state of terror. All this while Omega stood by the bunk, watching with concern. She looked back to you when you entered, then ran to you.

“I tried to wake him, but it’s not working, he keeps calling for you, you’ve got to do something”, she said in a rush, voice and eyes full or worry for her new friend.

You bent down to her level and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay, I know what to do, you go wait with Hunter, okay? Everything will be fine”, you told her, attempting to quell her worry.

You then stood and made your way to Echo, sitting on the edge of the bunk and looking over him with your own worried expression. You really didn’t know what to do, you’d never been faced with something like this before. He was clearly having a terrible nightmare, and you wanted to help, so you just acted on instinct.

You placed a hand on his shoulder and shook lightly, softly calling his name, trying to wake him as gradually as you could, as you figured startling him awake would be counterproductive. However, this didn’t seem to work, and hearing your voice only caused him to say your name more. Seeing him like this broke your heart, and for a moment you felt totally helpless, but then you had an idea. You moved your hand from his shoulder, bringing it to cup the side of his face, your thumb instinctually beginning to rub soothing circles on his cheek, and you bent down to speak quietly in his ear.

“Echo, it’s (Y/N). You don’t have to be scared, I’m here, I won’t let them hurt you anymore”, you said, gently grabbing his flesh hand with your free one and holding it to your chest. “I’m here for you, I’ll always be right here with you, it’s okay. Wake up Love. Come back to me.”

As you spoke you could see him slowly calm, and with your final request, his eyes fluttered open, finding yours instantly.

“There you are”, you said softly, a smile spreading over your face. You were just relieved that the nightmare was over, and he seemed to be calming more with each passing second.

As he took in your presence before him, he let out a relieved sigh, but then looked to you with a strained expression.

“(Y/N), I… I was back, back with them, back to that day, I… I didn’t know how or why, and I just…”, he said in a desperate rush.

You shushed him, and let your hand continue to stay where it was in an attempt to sooth the frightened man lying next to you.

“I know, it’s okay, you’re okay now, you’re here with me, you’re safe, I promise”, you reassured him.

This seemed to work, and he let out another sigh as he closed his eyes and tried to regulate his breathing once again, coming back to a steady pattern in no time. When he opened his eyes again, he noticed the position you both were in; you were sitting very close beside him, one hand resting on his cheek, while the other held his hand close to your heart, with his clutching yours in return, like you were his lifeline, which he had to admit, wasn’t far from the truth. You were the one he could trust without question, the one he could confide in, always had been.

You noticed this too and immediately went to pull away, slowly dropping his hand as you did, cheeks now burning. You didn’t get very far though, before he grabbed your wrist with his newly freed hand. “No”, he said, and pulled the hand back towards his head, coaxing you to return it to its previous spot. “Don’t stop… please.”

You stared at him for a moment with an unreadable expression, before finally giving him a tentative nod and continuing your earlier action of rubbing your thumb in circles on his cheek. He closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the pillow, relaxing easily under your touch, this causing you to smile, glad you could be of comfort to him. You stayed like this for a while before your curiosity got the best of you and you voiced the question that had been on your mind since you first heard him call your name.

“Echo”, you said in a questioning tone. He hummed in response, not opening his eyes. “Why, why me?”

He looked at you then, confused. “What do you mean?”

“When you were having your nightmare, you, you called out for me, I was just wondering, why me”, you explained.

“I did”, he asked.

“Yeah, quite a few times actually. Was I in your dream or something?”

He looked away, a bit embarrassed.

“Not exactly”, he said.

You used the hand that was still on him to lightly pull his head to face you, speaking once his eyes were fixed on yours once again.

“Echo, you know you can tell me anything. What is it”, you asked.

“You weren’t in the dream, technically, and it wasn’t really a dream, more like I was reliving a memory, the memory of the citadel, and…”, he explained, his words dying off as he found it hard to voice them.

You placed a reassuring hand on his chest and gave him a nod in understanding.

“So, you were reliving that day, I’m sorry, I know that can’t be easy. But I still don’t see what that has to do with me, I wasn’t there, if I had been, I would’ve taken that blow for you”, you said, suddenly feeling tears behind your eyes, but you fought them back internally.

His eyes widened and he quickly grabbed your hand from its spot on his chest, squeezing it firmly.

“No, don’t say that”, he said urgently, suddenly sitting up, causing your hand to slip from his face, instead falling to rest at the intersection of his shoulder and neck.

“But…”, you tried to say, but he cut you off.

“No (Y/N), I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy, least of all on you”, he said, staring directly into your eyes. You could only nod sadly as you tried to keep your emotions in check, which was getting harder as this interaction continued. He then softened his gaze and let out a long breath. “You were there, in a way.”

You gave him a confused look, about to ask what he meant, until he continued.

“After the explosion, I just laid there for a long time, feeling everything and nothing all at the same time, I was basically just waiting to die”, he told you. Your heart squeezed at his words, as the tears threatened to rise. “But then, I heard someone’s voice calling out to me, your voice. You were telling me not to give up, not to leave you, to keep fighting, and so I did. I bared the pain and rejected the urge to just slip away, even after they took me, I fought through all of it, because I knew that if I survived, then there was a chance I’d make it back to you, and… I really wanted that.”

That’s all it took, his words hit you straight in the chest and flowed through you, causing the flood gates to release and the tears to fall. Echo looked worried then and released your hand, bringing his to cup your cheek, wiping the tears away with his thumb.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you sad”, he said, internally wishing he hadn’t said anything.

You shook your head. “You have nothing to be sorry for, and I’m not sad that you told me, I’m glad you did”, you said, wiping the tears from the other side of your face. “Honestly, I’m just happy your alive, and that you did find your way back to me. I don’t know what I’d do without you in my life. When I heard what happened on Lola Sayu I couldn’t believe it at first, it didn’t feel real, but once I accepted it was… I had never felt true grief until that moment, and the sense of longing was almost unbearable. All I kept thinking was how I was angry with myself for wasting the time I had with you, lying. Lying to you, and to myself.”

“What are you talking about, lying about what”, he asked, sliding his hand down to hook a finger around your chin and turn your face back to face him after you’d turned it away during your confession.

You took a deep breath before speaking next. “I lied to you before, when I acted like that slip up was just a poor choice of words, I meant exactly what I said. See, the truth is, I was upset with myself because I never told you…”, you paused, finding this confession to be much harder than you had thought it would be to get out, “never told you that I…”

After another long pause, Echo decided to take the initiative, seeing as he knew exactly what you wanted to say, as it was the same thing he’d wanted to say to you all that time ago, still did. He used the hand that had a hold of your chin to pull you to him as he caught your lips in a kiss, one that while soft, was full of so much emotion it was almost palpable. You were surprised at first, but soon melted into the kiss, feeling completely content with staying there as long as possible.

Much too soon for your liking, Echo pulled away, but only to place his forehead against yours and let the long overdue words slip from his lips. “I love you too.”

Your smile reached your ears as his words filled you with untainted happiness, which prompted him to smile widely himself. Why had you both waited so long to do this, you didn’t know, but you were glad it was finally happening.

“Why did we spend all that time hiding, when we could’ve just done this”, you asked.

He chuckled. “Because we were both cowardly idiots”, he said.

You hummed in agreement. “I still can’t believe you did all that for me”, you said in a more serious tone.

He pulled back to look into your eyes. “Of course I did… I’d do anything for you (Y/N)”, he told you.

“Anything?”

He nodded in response and you smiled again.

“Kiss me again”, you said, it was more of a request than a demand.

He smiled and pulled you close so your face was mere inches from his.

“Yes Ma’am.”

***

It had been a good fifteen minutes since the cries had stopped and no noise could be heard from Echo’s bunk. Omega was no longer worried, knowing you had it handled, but her curiosity was starting to get the best of her.

“What do you think their talking about in there, it’s so quiet, maybe I should…”, she said as she got up from the co-pilot seat, moving in the direction of the bunks, but she was stopped by a hand grabbing her forearm, causing her to turn and stare at Hunter questioningly.

“Don’t, they’re fine, and it’s none of our business what their talking about, so just let them be, alright”, he said, giving her a warning look, one that wasn’t all that intimidating to the young girl, but she listened nonetheless and returned to her seat.

After a moment she spoke again, not being able to take the silence any longer.

“So, what’s the deal with those two, are they together, or is it some secret that everyone knows about except them”, she asked the sergeant.

Hunter laughed, this kid really was perceptive, not that anyone with eyes couldn’t see the attraction between you and Echo, it had always seemed so obvious to him, which is why he never spoke on his own feelings for you.

“Yeah, there seem to be… unspoken feelings between the two of them, but I’m sure they’ll get their acts together soon enough, especially now that they’ll be around each other more often”, he told her.

She thought on this for a moment before responding.

“I think so too… and what about you”, Omega asked him.

“What about me?”

“Are you going to get your act together as well”, she asked, raising her eyebrow and grinning at him.

“What are you talkin’ about kid”, Hunter asked, wondering if she’d somehow figured it out.

“Seriously, I’ve only just got here and I can see it”, she said.

“See what?”

“That Echo isn’t the only one who has feelings for the general.”

Hunter turned to the young clone, a look of surprise on his face. Very perceptive indeed.

“Why don’t you just tell her, at least one of you should pluck up the courage to do it”, she said.

He exhaled heavily as his features returned to a more neutral expression.

“It’s not that simple kid, there are just some things you’re not old enough to understand. Besides, it’s not reciprocated so there’s really no point, she’s made her choice, and I have to respect that”, he explained, hoping that would be that. However, he wasn’t going to be that lucky.

“Your wrong”, Omega said simply.

“What?”

“Your wrong, those feelings, they are reciprocated, yeah she likes Echo, but she likes you too.” She said it with such confidence that it made him wonder if the statement was true.

“Really, and how do you know that”, he asked, an almost sarcastic tone in his voice.

She shrugged. “Female intuition.”

He raised a suspicious brow at her but decided not to think too much on it.

“Hm, well, even if you are right, she’s still made her choice, and I won’t get in the way.”

“Won’t get in the way of what?”

Your voice made both of them jump a little. You had just made your way back to the cockpit and had clearly overheard the last bit of their conversation.

“Nothing”, Hunter said, watching you come to stand beside Omega, perching your arm on the headrest of the co-pilot chair and leaning on it.

“Really? Didn’t sound like nothing”, you said, raising your eyebrow in suspicion.

Omega suddenly perked up and turned in her chair to look up at you.

“Hey (Y/N), do you think it’s possibly for someone to love more than one person at a time”, she asked.

You were a bit taken aback by the question, but figured you’d answer, seeing as how you were being very honest today.

“Yes, I do, it actually happens a lot more often than you think”, you responded, purposefully avoiding Hunter’s gaze as you looked at the child.

“And what does that person do, you know, when they realize they have feelings for more than one person”, she then asked.

“Well, usually that person then has a decision to make, and they just hope they don’t break any hearts in the process. You see, love can be a tricky endeavor. However, I think if someone does fall for two individuals at once, then there are other options”, you said, rather matter-of-factly, given the topic at hand.

“Like what?”

“Those involved could always enter into a relationship all together, I suppose”, you said, wondering just how far she was going to take this conversation.

“And that would work”, she asked, seeming almost hopeful.

“It’s possible, yes, but only if all members involved are okay with it. They all need to know that’s what’s going on, and there can’t be any secrets”, you explained.

“Huh, I guess that makes sense”, Omega said, seeming content with your explanation. Then another thought seemed to hit her. “Hey (Y/N)?”

You hummed in response.

“Have you ever been in love”, she asked curiously.

“Omega”, Hunter said firmly, giving her another look of warning.

“No, no, it’s fine”, you informed him, not wanting him to reprimand the girl for just being curious. “To answer your question Omega, yes, yes I have.”

“With more than one person”, she continued.

You raised an eyebrow at her and crossed your arms over your chest.

“What’s with the twenty questions, am I being interrogated or something”, you asked, only half joking.

She shook her head. “No, just curious is all.”

“Uh huh, well why don’t you stow that curiosity away for later and go get some rest, it’s quiet now”, you told her.

“What did you do, I mean, how did you get him to stop”, she asked as she stood from her seat.

“I just let him know that he was safe, and that there was nothing to be afraid of”, you said, which wasn’t a complete lie.

“That’s it”, she asked.

You nodded. “That’s it.”

She gave you a look of suspicion but didn’t act on it.

“Okay”, she said, drawing out the word, and made her way to exit the cockpit.

“Sleep tight”, you called after her as she disappeared down the small corridor. You then turned back to the view port and took a seat in the now empty chair, sighing heavily before finally looking to Hunter. “Well, that was interesting, care to tell me what that was all about?”

“Not really”, he said, turning back to face forward.

You raised a brow. “Seriously?”

He shrugged and kept his gaze where it was.

You sighed again and leaned back in your chair. “Alright then, but I think it’s worth mentioning that the kid knows what she’s talking about, you might want to listen to her every now and then, she’s quite intuitive.”

He looked to you then, confusion on his brow.

“What do you mean”, he asked.

You laughed. “I mean, what she said about me is true”, you said.

His eyes widened a bit. “You, you heard that”, he asked, and you nodded in response. “How much of it?”

“Enough”, you said simply.

He looked away again as he spoke. “Then you know it doesn’t matter how I feel, you’ve made your choice, and I’m okay with that, I’ll have to be”, he said, trying to keep up this act of indifference.

You turned in your seat to face him. “You keep saying that, but, what if I don’t want to choose, because how you feel does matter, Hunter. At least, to me it does.”

He turned his head to meet your gaze. “What exactly are you proposing”, he asked.

“Nothing yet, just letting you know that, I know, and that the feelings are mutual.”

He smiled at this and nodded his understanding.

“What about Echo, have you told him yet”, he asked.

“We talked, and confessions were made… finally”, you said with a smile.

You both laughed then, happy to finally air things out a bit, all the pent-up emotions were wearing on all of you it seemed, and it felt nice to not have to hide it anymore.

“How do you think he’ll feel about your non-proposed proposal”, he asked with a grin.

“I don’t know, but we’re all adults, we can sit down and have a civilized conversation about this, and… we’ll figure this all out”, you told him.

He gave an amused huff. “You make it sound so formal.”

You nodded and gave a light chuckle. “At first, yeah, but I get the feeling that once this proposal is made, all persons involved will be… willing to give it a try”, you said, taking his hand and holding it in both of yours. “Then things will get more… informal.”

He smiled. “Yeah, how can you be so sure”, he asked, leaning toward you.

You smiled back and leaned in as well, your faces now only inches apart.

“Female intuition”, you whispered, your smile turning a bit smug.

He chuckled in amusement. “You’re ridiculous”, he said, before closing the gap between you.

The kiss was sweet and felt just as right as the ones you’d had with Echo, and just like those ones, this kiss ended all to quickly, but you were content to sit back and bask in the afterglow, you didn’t want to rush things after all.

You both sat there a moment, leaning back in your seats, staring out the view port, arms stretched as your hands sat, intertwined, between you. Maybe this really could work, only time would tell.

After what felt like hours, but in reality, had only been minutes, Hunter looked to you with a soft smile.

“I’m glad you’re here with us”, he said.

You smiled back and gave his hand a light squeeze.

“Me too”, you said, and you both stayed like that for a long while, enjoying a view you each thought was much better than the one outside the view port.

Little did you know, behind you Omega stood at the entrance of the cockpit, looking on silently and grinning from ear to ear, feeling quite pleased with herself.

[screechthemighty]

*crashes into your living room* HEY, BESTIES, ARE WE SURE THE GIANTS IN GOD OF WAR IS FORETOLD RAGNAROK BECAUSE I’M STARTING TO THINK THEY DIDN’T (or at least, not the Ragnarok we’re thinking). This is really long so it’s under a cut but hear me out, okay...

Here’s my logic. Most important detail: Mimir mentions that Ragnarok is supposed to happen hundreds of years from now, but they “changed something” and kick-started it early. All of this would line up with what we, the audience, know about Ragnarok, and what Asgard seems to know about it. It’s supposed to be Loki as an adult, having kids with Angrboda (one kid in particular being super important to Ragnarok), and everything kicks off then when he kills Baldur. But that’s not what happens. Loki (Atreus) is twelve when Baldur is killed, and technically he’s not even the one who does it. Kratos is.

This is important, because the giant’s prophecy mural depicts what happens in the game--the wrong version of Ragnarok, the version Mimir says wasn’t going to happen. Young Loki, Kratos actively involved. So they knew that Fimbulwinter was going to happen early, even though that flies in the face of other prophecies and things that seem to be common knowledge outside of Jotunheim.

On top of that, let’s go through that second piece of writing you can read before the mural is revealed.

We foresee Midgard’s fate, overrun, a second Hel. Neither Odin nor his dead may reach Jotunheim. The ways must be shut. - Discussing the events leading up to the closing of Jotunheim.

The serpent and the guardian remained. They alone shall keep our hope. - Faye + Jormi staying behind, serving as pieces in a puzzle that will play out later (Jormi helping Atreus and crew on their quest, Faye as his mother).

When doom befalls the indestructible, only then shall the guardian return. - Again, seems to foretell events in that game; Faye’s ashes are returned home after previously unkillable Baldur dies.

Now none of this points to the giants knowing about a second or differing Ragnarok, as it’s vague enough to apply both to the events of the game, or Ragnarok as we know it (for instance, there’s nothing that says in the standard Ragnarok timeline Faye isn’t still alive and came home post-Baldur, or maybe died but much later). BUT...this last bit caught my attention.

Until then, we await a better world - one without fear, without greed, without war. We wait for deliverance, and justice. - None of this sounds like the end of all creation, as Ragnarok is typically depicted.

We wait for a champion. - Most likely Loki (therefore Atreus).

We will wait for the word that gods grow good. - KRATOS HAS SPENT THE PAST DECADES GROWING AS A PERSON. Who is he, if not proof that gods can grow good? Him and, to an extent, Atreus, who had his brush with darkness but overcame it and seems to be doing well for himself? This could be proof that they accounted for Kratos, who is absent from Ragnarok in more than just the obvious ways of “Kratos not being myth canon” (Mimir probably would’ve guessed by now if he’d been in-game-Ragnarok canon).

So, what we’re seeing is that the giants, known for their gifts of foresight, foretold that Ragnarok is going to happen in a way different than what the Aesir know of, and then on top of that foretold a much brighter future (which also lines up with the reality of canon--Odin being alive actively makes things worse, as it’s his meddling that’s caused the Desolation and the slow sickness of Midgard). They seem to account for Kratos’s involvement in a way the Aesir didn’t. And seeing how giant prophecy seems to be on point (on point enough at least that Odin was desperate to know what they knew), I don’t think we can accurately use Ragnarok as a meter for what’s going to happen in game, even if you’re of the opinion (like me) that Kratos can defy fate. I think what we THINK is going to be fate is actually going to be quite different.

Now, this leaves a lot of questions, like for instance “why is this prophecy different than what Groa foretold? Is it that fate and destiny are a bit more malleable and Kratos showing up shifted the balance of fate in a way that only the giants knew, that Odin missed because he was too obsessed with a singular outcome? What does this mean for the missing parts of the mural (in particular the sad parts that I’m trying not to think about)? Can that fate be defied as well? WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON??” And for that, unfortunately, we may have to wait...but if I’m right, and the actual canon is being put right in front of us, this could all also mean a more optimistic ending than a game called “Ragnarok” indicates. At the very least, it grants them some wiggle room to do so. (Seriously, picture an end reveal where things kinda work out, and then we find out the rest of the mural was the plot of Ragnarok. That’d slap.)

[nocompromise-noregrets]

so the ever-awesome @spiced-wine-fic asked me some character questions about Elrond yesterday and I utterly failed to answer them properly because it turns out he's been a background character in my head all the time (I know, I know, I'm ashamed of myself too), and then she said how about answering for Bard and Thranduil, and then I mentioned the Twins in passing, and now here I am in a corner of the missus' office answering for all of them while sitting on a vpn and being very thankful that everyone else is far too busy to worry about what I'm doing XD (studying, that's what I'm doing. I've got a presentation to write and a bunch of texts to read and some video to watch and audio to listen to...yes yes I shall be studying all day... *whistles*)

1. My first impression of them

Bard: on seeing his first appearance in Desolation of Smaug (look, I'm a movies-girl, I have read the books but it was a long old time ago) oooh he looks nice. OOOH HE'S WELSH! *hearteyes*

Thranduil: (on seeing him in Unexpected Journey) it's Legolas' dad! gosh he's pretty.

Elladan and Elrohir: I actually can't remember, but it will have been via fic between Fellowship and Two Towers coming out, given that they weren't in the blasted movies. I don't know what it was that hooked me, but they are my absolute favourites and I will live and die for them.

2. When I think I truly started to like them

Bard and Thranduil: I watched the films when they came out but for some reason didn't get back into the fandom at that point. But then the LotR cast reunion thing happened in the summer of 2020 and I rewatched the films and went O.O and then fell very quickly headlong into utter purgatory with the pair of them.

Elladan and Elrohir: somewhere between Fellowship and Two Towers. I honestly can't remember any more, but I read a load of fic with them in, and fell in love.

6. My least favorite ship of them

Bard: I dunno, I don't read much with him in that isn't shipping him either with Thranduil or with his actual wife...or with Bofur <333333

Thranduil: Thorin. Sorry, Thorin fans. I know there was a lot of Thranduil/Thorin after Desolation of Smaug, but I...am not a huge fan of Thorin, and I really don't like antagonist-ships (it's the aceness showing, I just don't see the point of shagging someone you don't like). I don't like the dynamic between them as a ship - I am much happier with them being begrudging allies in everyone-lives AUs.

Elladan and Elrohir: uh. Look, this is awkward. I don't like them shipped with pretty much anyone else. Because...

12. Sexuality hc!

Bard: Bi. Possibly pan. I don't think he's bothered which bits someone has, as long as they get on.

Thranduil: Bi.

Elladan and Elrohir: (those of a sensitive disposition, avert your eyes now, although I'm being subtle about it) Uh. Each other. :D To the outside world they are more or less ace (although Elladan is a terrible flirt), but they are all and everything to each other and have been since before they were born. They're one soul in two bodies, and they can no more imagine spending their lives with someone else than they can fly. (I said it was awkward XD ) I think Arwen knows, but they've never actually told her, and they don't discuss it. As far as the twins are concerned, it's nobody's business but theirs.

24. What do you think is a secret they have that they never told anyone?

Bard: this is a tough one, I think he tends to confide in those closest to him. He doesn't want to put too much on the kids, but I think he and Percy (and probably also Hilda) have had many a late night conversation, and once Thranduil appears (in my headcanons anyway) he gradually tells him everything - how much he misses his wife, how much he really does not want to be king, how terrified he was when he faced down the dragon...all of it. I can't think of anything he hasn't told at least one person.

Thranduil: is a thoroughly different proposition. He's not inclined to share most things with anyone until he meets Bard. His wife was his confidante, and with her gone, he feels he can't entrust his innermost thoughts to anyone else. Readers of Break You But You'll Mend will know, however, that he did have a short dalliance with someone in Doriath, before he and Auriel were betrothed (it's Dior, which sprang from me realising they were almost the same age and then being far too entertained by the whole idea to ignore it XDDDD ), which he's never spoken about to anyone (Auriel knew, and found it hilarious, but they never really spoke about it) until he tells Bard in chapter 20.

Elladan and Elrohir: well, this one's fairly obvious, given what I said above. :D I think there are a lot of things that they don't speak to anyone else about, except perhaps for their sister.

Okay, that was fun! Thank you for giving me the further opportunity to ramble XDDDDD

[staysaneathome]

Let’s Meet At The Gathering of the Witches (4)

It feels like the next Gathering of the Witches lies in ambush to catch him off-guard.

One minute it’s a month away and the next it’s today.

He and Martin travel up to it together.

He does ask whether Frey will be traveling up with them, but Martin just shrugs.

“Xey told me xey’ll be going with xir uncle.” He says. “Though they’ve been very…distracted these past few days. Distant. I think xey might be trying to be more independent, to better access xir magic?”

Jon shrugs back. He doesn’t really care so long as it means he doesn’t have to spend time in the company of the Lukas who let Robbie get hurt in the first place.

This of course means that they have no reason to linger outside the inner sanctum. They do so anyway.

Jon’s Eyes try to find Robbie in the crowd. It’s unlikely but maybe, just maybe, Georgie will have brought them here…?

The crowd of apprentices and familiars is unusually sparse despite how close the Gathering is to starting, so it’s easy to See that Robbie isn’t in it.

His Eyes keep Looking though, hanging around long enough that Jon has to actively corral them into following him again.

One of them catches the attention of Tim Stoker who, against all reason, gives Jon something approaching a grudging nod.

Jon, who has been on what can politely described as “bad terms” with Tim ever since he went to the Desolation, is so shocked all he can really do is return a shaky little nod of his own before following Martin inside.

The oddities don’t stop there.

He finds himself and Martin confronted by Jane Prentiss, Witch of the Corruption.

She’s smiling unpleasantly, though considering all the wasp larvae crawling in and out of the many holes making up their hive, it can be argued that every expression she makes is unpleasant.

“Eye Witch,” The way the words come out is an awful mix of a rasp, a hiss and a purr. “So glad to finally be forming an alliance between our territories. The Corruption shall not forget the debts owed to you.”

Martin is glancing between Prentiss and Jon with such incredulity that Jon’s mildly worried he’ll strain something.

Jon does what he does best when he has no clue what the hell is going on.

He puts on his most firm and serious expression and inclines his head back, pretending he understands the situation perfectly. “Th-thank you. You have my word, the Eye will honor the ties between us as well.”

Prentiss lets out a hum that Jon…thinks is positive? Before she turns and strides off.

“What was that?” Martin whispers, frantic.

“I have no idea!” Jon mutters back.

No sooner has Prentiss left them in peace than they’re being confronted by the Witch that is Not Sasha James.

Or rather, the Grand Witch. The jewel-toned regalia which Nikola had worn so proudly looks gauche and ill-fitting on her, which given that she’s a Stranger may be the point.

She’s followed by a vaguely male mannequin which dogs her footsteps with something that Jon almost feels like he recognizes.

“Jonathan Sims. Witch of the Eye.” She says. “I would like to request negotiations for a ceasefire.”

Jon’s glare hardens, finding his footing on familiar ground. “You? After all you and yours have done? You’ve got nerve, I’ll give you that.”

The mannequin gives what would be a derisive snort on any other being. “As if what Nikola did was in any way comparable to what you turned her into, and you setting Seven of the Fourteen on us—!”

Wait, what?

“Easy, Tom.” The Not!Sasha pacifies with a hand on the mannequin’s arm and a fond look, before turning a very obviously fake smile on him. “How about it, Witch of the Eye? A cessation of hostilities between us, with an embargo on either entering each others’ territories. Are these acceptable starting terms?”

Jon feels like he’s lost the plot a bit on this. Still, his mouth moves on its own as he says, “No attempts on your part to capture or claim Robbie. Non-negotiable.”

“Done.” The Not!Sasha says it almost before he’s finished speaking. “The further away from us that awful little familiar of yours is, the happier we’ll all be. I’ll be in contact to negotiate whose grounds we’ll meet on to formally discuss the terms once you’ve tied off your outstanding loose end.”

And with that she and what Jon thinks might be her boyfriend sweep away in that uncanny fashion which comes naturally to all Witches of the Stranger.

“What was that??” Martin whispers, nearly hysterical.

“I have no damn idea!” Jon mutters back, in a similar state himself.

They don’t quite flee towards where Georgie and the others are, but it’s a near thing.

Melanie, Georgie and Oliver are all huddled together, talking quietly and quickly. For some reason all of them look worse for wear.

“…out of control for months now!” Melanie is hissing. “We’re lucky no one’s been killed! This is bigger than us now, Georgie, bigger than your pride. Either you tell him, or I will!”

“Tell who what?” Martin asks as they draw level with the group.

The three of them freeze, eyes fixating on Jon.

“Well…” Georgie heaves a sigh. “I didn’t want to have to tell you this, Jon, but…?”

She trails off, biting her lip.

“But?” Jon prompts, his Eyes clustering closer.

They note the slight tensing of her expression, the stiffening of her posture as though rigor mortis has set in.

Finally, she bursts out, “Melanie’s familiar is attempting to court Robbie!”

Jon promptly chokes on his own saliva.

Martin makes a worried noise and begins rubbing his back as he coughs.

“Georgie!” Melanie squawks in something resembling outrage.

Oliver is covering his face with his hand, for some reason.

“We didn’t want to bring it up,” Georgie says, cheeks flushed. “But I realized not long after they moved in, given what Emil did to them at the last Gathering. I’m not entirely sure he knew? What he was doing, by stabbing them there? But—“

“Explain.” It’s a legitimate struggle to keep the Compulsion out of his voice. Especially considering that the feeling of prickling-licking-a-tea-towel is back in full force.

Georgie gives him a cool look and makes a careless gesture. “It’s something. Something Melanie did to me not long after we first met. A wound inflicted close enough to the heart that you’ll feel it with every beat, but careful enough to avoid damaging the heart itself in any way. It’s weirdly romantic once you get down to it.”

Melanie’s cheeks are flushed, but there’s mutiny warring with affection in her eyes as she picks up where Georgie left off. “S dumb is what it is. So our magic gives us various impulses. Doesn’t mean he should’ve acted on them.”

“I think it’s sweet!” Georgie teases.

“I don’t.” It feels like Jon’s mouth is responding on autopilot. His body is prickling all over, uncomfortable and itchy.

And it’s not because of the idea that his familiar (good lord, they’re not even a teenager yet, how was this allowed to happen?) is apparently the subject of romantic interest from a violent ghost.

Well. Not just that, anyway.

Melanie’s expression creases with indignation that might be performative. “What, you think Emil’s not good enough for your familiar or something?! I’ll have you know—”

Fortunately the Gathering is called to order at that moment, so Jon remains blissfully ignorant to what she would have him know.

The entire meeting passes by Jon in a blur.

He can’t concentrate on what’s being said, can barely recognize that different people are taking turns speaking.

Because while talking over distance through the crystal ball diffused its effects somewhat, the unfiltered face-to-face interaction has made Jon realize what the source of that awful, dry-mouthed, prickling feeling is:

Georgie’s using the truth to lie to him.

And that. That hurts. Not in the least because Jon hasn’t any clue what she could possibly want to lie to him about.

He can’t even talk about it to Martin, because Martin murmured something about “need to have a Word with Oliver, love, won’t be but a minute, wait for me outside.”

And it’s as Jon’s waiting outside the inner sanctum that he is ambushed by the worst possible person in existence.

“Ah, Johnny-boy!” Says Trexel Geistman as he sidles up besides him. “Good old Johnners, that’s you. The Johnster! Johnston and Geistman, united at last!”

“No.” Jon grits out, as if the verbal denial will somehow affect the awful reality he’s found himself in.

Trexel Geistman fails to dematerialize. “Not a fan? Hm. Well I think those are much better than boring old John, but who knows? Who cares? I do, because that’s what Trexel does. He cares. Caring is the Geistman way, except for when it comes time to crush those ungrateful worms you call superiors or colleagues or family or friends under your boot! That’ll show them, Johnny! That’ll show them, for not coming to my ventwarming party—!”

Good lord, but Jon loathes Trexel Geistman. Every word out of the man’s mouth is nothing but pure drivel, coherent enough to make you feel like there should be a logic you’re following and responding to, but circuitous enough that trying to do so only results in frustration and a Spiral-induced migraine that effectively blinds him with its ferocity.

He’s trying to talk himself out of murdering the pompous little creep here and now and causing an international incident, and he’s not sure he’s succeeding.

“Jon.” A hand lands on his shoulder. “Might I steal you away for a word? Sorry, Mr. Geistman, important Eye business.”

Jon’s so grateful for the opportunity to escape that he doesn’t really protest Elias leading him away, even as Trexel Geistman babbles some nonsense beginning with, “But you tol—!”

His head is swimming as Elias leads him through passages that he’s not sure he knew existed before.

His Eyes try to keep track of the journey, but they’re affected by the pounding in his skull as well, too dizzy to really take in any relevant details.

They arrive in what Jon thinks might be a room? But it’s too curved, convex and concave, sending his poor brain reeling with the idea that he’s somehow stumbled into the Pupil of a giant Eye.

Elias’ voice is too loud, too echoing as he recites an incantation that Jon’s muddled brain can’t quite follow.

There’s the overwhelming THUD of doors slamming shut.

“El, Elias, what…?” Jon’s barely able to stammer, turning around.

His limbs lock in place under the luminous green gaze that greets him.

Jon can’t even move his mouth to speak as Elias walks forward and pushes him to his knees with a gentle touch.

His Eye are immobile witnesses, only able to watch as Elias manacles his wrists and ankles to the circular depression in the floor.

Why, Jon thinks but cannot say, what’s going on, why is Elias doing this?!

“Oh, Jonathan.” Elias smiles at him, responding to his frantically racing thoughts. “You only have yourself to blame for this, you know. If you’d just been a bit more observant, you wouldn’t be here in the first place.”

All of a sudden, like the moon emerging from behind the clouds to reveal something terrible in its stark light, Jon remembers.

Elias’ eyes were blue. Pale, watery, often red-rimmed blue, but blue all the same.

They had twinkled when Elias was high off his gourd, slurring about how proud he was of his four star apprentices, how he was sure they’d all surpass him in witchery someday.

Until one Gathering where Elias disappeared off somewhere after the meeting and remerged with green eyes so dark they resembled rotting mulch on the forest floor, with a calculating gleam turned on the four of them.

Eyes that had previously been in the head of former Grand Witch of the Eye, James Wright.

“Of course, if you had noticed, it’s unlikely it would’ve done you much good anyways.” The thing that is Not Elias Bouchard says as he pours the memories of how many times he has done this into Jon’s head, how many witches of the Eye he has brought to this very room before taking up the mantle of Grand Witch anew in fresher, younger bodies. Cheating death and amassing power in one fell swoop.

“After all, Knowing never saved poor Miss James, did it?”

Oh God.

Jon chokes on a whimper as he Sees it, sees Sasha putting the pieces together, attempting to bargain with what Jon now Knows is the First and Only Grand Witch of the Eye, Jonah Magnus.

Sees as she’s sent off to be Unmade at the hands of the Stranger Witches, the secret apparently dying with her.

“I really must thank you, Jon. The life you’re leading now is practically perfect.” The tool in Magnus’ hand is old, ornately carved, pristine. Jon Knows he is an expert on how to use it by now, hasn’t left even an incriminating bruise in well over three hundred years.

“Your powers are strong enough to reduce even a Grand Witch of the Stranger to a mere plaything, to say nothing of the way you smote her followers.” Magnus’ voice is reverential, almost proud. “You have secured steady alliances with the End, the Fog, and the Slaughter, to say nothing of your unwitting arrangements with the Flesh, the Buried, the Hunt, and the Corruption, thanks your little familiar. The Stranger has been severely reduced between the two of you, their Grand Witch so weak it will take next to nothing to wipe them from the map.”

He openly laughs at the confusion permeating Jon’s brain. “Ah yes. Ignorant of that, aren’t you? I’ll admit, it was a noble effort to try to send it away in an attempt to keep them out of my clutches. Pathetic, but noble. It’s a shame its devotion to you lead to it undoing all of your hard work. Did you know it only remained in the End for three days before it managed to give its protectors the slip? It can be quite creative, when it applies itsef.”

Three days?

Robbie was only with Georgie for three days?

Jon’s mind is forcibly transfixed on memories of teaching Robbie how to get to the End from Eye territory, back when they first started staying with him. Of ensuring they could plan diversions and re-routes through other domains, in case the quickest path was ever blocked.

But—! No. They were in the End, they are in the End, they have to be in the End, because Georgie—Georgie…

A thumb smooths over his cheekbone in a parody of comfort. “But rest assured, Jonathan. I’ll bring my familiar home from its gallivanting about the domains, and put it to far better use than you could have ever dreamed. It’s sacrifice will pave the way to greater understanding about a soon-to-be-extinct magic.”

The smile that splits Elias’ cheeks is nightmarish. “Though of course the work I’ll do on it will pale in comparison to what I’ll be able to do to dear Martin. I’ve done good work with Peter, of course, but a Fog Witch with genuine emotional attachment? Think of the possibilities, Jon. Will he ever even realize the man he’s saying ‘I love you’ to is gone?”

Rage sparks uselessly through Jon’s paralyzed limbs, leaving him able to do little more than bare his teeth in defiance. Don’t you dare touch them.

“How sweet.” The tool is poised over his right eye. “Well, I’m afraid this is goodbye, Jonathan. If it’s any consolation, you far exceeded everything I’d hoped you’d b—”

BANG!

Jonah Magnus pulls back, a frown marring his features. “What in the world…?”

BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!

The harsh blows continue, as if something is throwing itself against every door to this place with all its might. It does so in a way that’s rhythmic, the pulse of boots marching to war, of bones cracking beneath a fist.

Magnus sneers, leaning back over Jon’s face. “It seems time is of the essence. This won’t be as clean as I’d li—”

“GBWEH!”

That actually causes Magnus to startle back as he looks up at something that has somehow entered the room.

Something that stinks of alcohol, lotion, and half-rotted fish.

Jon, who cannot operate his vocal cords, wishes he could groan in despair.

“Geistman?!” Magnus snaps, obviously as repulsed as Jon now is. “How did you—?! Ugh, never mind, get back to your vents and your boozing, you blithering, incompetent—!”

Jon’s head has been tilted upwards all this time, to better allow for Magnus to perform his little “operation”.

Which means he has a perfect view of the vent that is suddenly present in the ceiling, and Robbie dropping out of it with murder in their eyes and jaw unhinged.

There’s a short, sharp scream from Magnus that ends in a wet gurgle.

Then all of a sudden, Elias’ voice is shouting something indecipherable that’s less a counter-incantation and more a frantic desire to Stop, to Open, to LET JON GO.

He finds his limbs loosening, slacking from their rictus as his eyes blink and move and swarm over to his familiar.

Robbie’s spitting something out with a disgusted look on their face, head shaking and hands flapping by their sides.

Then they spot him and their expression turns frantic as they run full-tilt over to him, colliding heavily as they practically trip over themself to get a good look at his face, staring at his eyes with a desperation bordering on manic.

“I, it.” His tongue feels thick and heavy, unwilling to obey him. “S okay, Robbie. He didn’t. It’s me. It’s me.”

His familiar’s eyes fill with tears as they fling their arms around him and bury their head in his chest.

Jon rests his head on top of theirs as best he can while manacled, trying to soothe their gasping sobs. There’ll be plenty of time to scold them for running off and not sending him any word of their harebrained schemes later. Now he can let himself feel the relief that they’re here, they’re alright.

Or perhaps not.

Jon’s Eyes catch sight of Magnus rising, blood staining Elias’ high collar, his tool clutched in a tight-knuckled grip and raised over his head like a dagger as he staggers towards them.

Jon curls over Robbie as best he can, trying to summon some, any of the power that allowed him to reduce Nikola to lifelessness—!

Several things happen in rapid succession.

A pair of large, cool, familiar arms coil around Jon and Robbie, yanking them through the Fog and away from their attacker.

There’s the harsh thud of several doors opening at once, pouding footsteps and panicked voices filling the room.

Magnus is impaled from behind on several shard of glass and metal, as Melanie’s familiar unleashes his wrath.

A swarm of butterflies descends as Magnus gurgles and topples forward again, the earth itself reaching up to claim him.

Jon’s thankful that the Gathering’s been over for long enough that most of the other attendants have gone home.

It means there’s less witnesses for the apparent murder of the Grand Witch of the Eye.

Though, Jon considers, looking around at the motley crew gathered in the corridor outside of Jonah Magnus’ de-eyeballing room, there are still quite a lot of them.

Thankfully Trexel Geistman is not one of them.

“So let me see if I’ve got this right.” Martin says, looking desperately like he wants to pinch the bridge of his nose but is wholly unwilling to release his grip on Jon and Robbie to do so.

“You,” A squeeze of Jon’s arm which he replies to with a nudge of his head into Martin’s shoulder. “Somehow the most sensible person in this scenario, thought that the best way to protect Robbie was to send them to the End so they couldn’t get caught in the crossfire when Nikola attacked your cottage.”

“Hey.” Jon mutters without heat. Martin gives him a quick, pacifying kiss on the forehead.

“Georgie agreed with this and took Robbie in. But you,” A squeeze of Robbie’s shoulder, who fidgets and looks guilty. “Somehow got it into your head to run away from the End, to…what? Fight the Stranger witches directly, or something?”

Robbie shakes their head as they sign, “I wanted to come home. I wanted to protect Jon. I kept having to make detours, though. They were trying to stop me.”

Martin heaves a sigh. “Which is, I suppose how you all got involved?”

Petra Ito, apprentice of the Buried, gives a careless shrug with her arm around Frey Lukas’ hunched shoulders. “Yeah, pretty much.”

“Robbie helped me an’ Janey get rid of the spiders! So Janey said I could go!” Des Fuentes-Macías, the very young apprentice of the Corruption, pipes up. Prentiss has a proud hand set on his head.

“I just wanted to torch it.” Tim admits, a flame sprouting from his clicked fingers that has Robbie flinching minutely. “But then I got the chance to burn even more of the stranger fuckers.”

“I-I wasn’t actually involved in, in any of this until this morning, when they arrived on the Fog’s borders, so…" Frey Lukas trails off under Martin’s hard stare, head ducking again. “Sorry.”

The Monster Pig has wandered off back into the Eye room after a few cursory sniffs.

Emil Walpole, Melanie’s wayward familiar of the Slaughter, flickers slightly even as he hovers a few centimeters above the floor, steadfastly not looking at anyone. “…They asked for my help.”

Jon can’t quite decide if that raises his estimation of Mr. Walpole or not. Especially given that Robbie’s face feels hot when they hide a small smile in Jon’s arm.

“Okay,” Martin begins diplomatically. “And I’m guessing that while Robbie was trying to get back to Jon, Georgie, you were trying to…what, rescue them? While keeping Jon in the dark about it?”

“Me and Melanie were helping as best we could.” Oliver chimes in as Melanie nods. “Ever since Robbie and Emil vanished from the Slaughter together.”

“But why?” Jon bursts out, unable to keep quiet any longer, eyes fixed on Georgie. “Why hide it from me? Why lie that everything was fine when it wasn’t?”

She somehow looks small, even in her End regalia, one foot scuffing the floor.

“I didn’t—!” She pauses, takes a breath, and starts again. “You came to me for help and trusted me to look after them, Jon. I didn’t want to betray that faith and disappoint you, not when I thought I could have the situation in hand.”

Jon’s mouth works soundlessly. He can appreciate that, but. But.

“But the problem was that Robbie was more resourceful than you gave them credit for.” Martin’s gentle tone continues. “And by the time you were considering telling Jon, it had already gone on long enough that admitting felt like it would be worse than not. Even though he had a right to know from the start.”

Georgie gives a weak huff of laughter as she nods.

Melanie plasters herself against Georgie’s side and glares daggers at the room. “Lay off. She was just trying to do her best.”

“No, love.” Georgie nuzzles into her hair, and then straightens to look at Jon. “I am truly sorry, Jon. For keeping you in the dark.”

Jon nods, trying to decide how he feels about that, but ultimately being too exhausted to come to any firm conclusions.

At his side, Robbie circles a fist over their chest. “I’m sorry for running away. I didn’t want to make you sad. I just wanted to go home.”

Georgie quirks a small smile at that, but doesn’t say anything else.

“So.” Martin says. “At some point, Robbie and company find out about Jonah Magnus’ eyeball-stealing and race here in the nick of time to stop it happening, with Frey providing cover to sneak them all into the Gathering…how did you find out about that, anyway?”

“It was the lady that wasn’t!” Des Fuentes-Macías pipes up. “She said the old Eye man was gonna steal his!”

Robbie nods, signing, “The One Who Isn’t Sasha James contained her memories after eating up her life. She traded The Grand Imposter’s secret to us, so we could save Jon. And then we hit the slimy Spiral man until he agreed to help.”

“Traded?” Jon asks, feeling wary. “Traded for what?”

Emil Walpole’s smile is chilling. “Not finishing what we started in the Stranger’s domain.”

Suddenly a lot of context for Jon’s earlier conversation with the new Grand Witch of the Stranger slots into place.

“So, what?” Tim interrupts. “We killed old Jimmy Magma, yippee for us. Does that mean Jon’s the new Grand Witch of the Eye?”

The very thought of it sends a shudder of pure revulsion down Jon’s spine. “Oh lord, I hope not. Elias, Elias’ body is still mostly functional, I, I think? Maybe we can—?”

The Monster Pig emerges from the Eye room, licking its chops clean.

Everyone stares at it as it gives a vaguely self-conscious grunt and trots off, presumably to make its way back to the Flesh’s territory.

“Well.” Oliver says. “I suppose that answers that question?”

“Wonderful. Just. Just wonderful.” Jon groans. He doesn’t want to become a Grand Witch yet, doesn’t want to have to leave his little cottage, forsake Robbie or Martin for any of the new responsibilities that will surely fall to him, without even an apprentice in training to help him manage them.

Oh good lord, he’s going to have to be diplomatic. Jon’s not got a diplomatic bone in his body, there’s no way he’s cut out for this.

“Well, about that…” Frey Lukas glances at Petra, who sighs and reaches into one of her many pockets to pull out what looks like a particularly mucky metal tin.

The contents of the tin inspire several groans of revulsion from the onlookers.

“Good lord.” Jon mutters as Robbie cringes and hides their face between him and Martin. “Did you really…?”

“Well,” Frey Lukas is actually standing up straight now, xir eyes bright. “When everyone told me what was going on, I figured that probably meant that there aren’t any real measures in place for the transferral of power, between witches of the Eye? Given that it was just Jonah Magnus giving it to himself every time. So I thought it was best to have a contingency prepared, like Martin’s always telling me.”

Martin quirks a small half smile at that, and Jon can’t not quickly peck the dimple that lovely expression brings out.

“Plus Grand Witches just need to be there, not actually do anything. That’s what they have us for.” Petra adds, closing up the tin. “S how Hezekiah keeps holding onto the position in the Buried. Wouldn’t be surprised if half his brains are mulch by now.”

Georgie inclines her head. “That’s…not entirely incorrect. But you’d still need a vessel for him while the power transfer is ongoing, and poor Elias. Well. Isn’t, anymore. Now what do we use?”

There’s a moment of contemplative silence.

“I believe,” Jon says slowly, the grin growing on his face only matched by the incredulous one on Martin’s, “I may have an idea.”

“You only have yourself to blame for this, you know.” Jon tells the scarecrow.

Jonah Magnus’ eyes glare at him hatefully from what he now knows is Nikola’s face.

It’s the perfect prison, really. In order to ever let the body have any chance of reanimating, Magnus will have to give up his dependence on Eye magic and his need for total control to let Nikola’s Stranger magic take autonomy.

And Jon’s suffered under his tutelage for enough years to know that this is something Jonah Magnus has no capacity for.

“Don’t worry.” He tells Magnus. “This won’t be forever. Just until I’ve got some other Eye witches properly trained up and established myself well enough to take over the Grand Witch position. Then we’ll give this puppet to Tim to make a bonfire with. He and Melanie are particularly excited for that. Frey too, if you can believe it. Xey’re very protective of xir uncle and xir teacher.”

He delights in the glimmer of fear that’s entered Magnus’s gaze.

His Eyes tell him that Robbie and Martin are on their way to being done with the cake they’ve been baking, that Melanie, Emil, Georgie, and Oliver are almost here for afternoon tea.

There’s a bar of Martin’s “properly bubbly” soap by his sink, Robbie’s converted what used to be the spare room in the cottage into their permanent bedroom, there are several ladybirds with spots ranging from thirteen to seven flying around, and Farmer Peter’s Damn Cow is safely in its field, chewing a cud of grass for once.

“You were right about one thing.” Jon smiles. “My life is practically perfect. And I’m going to enjoy every second of it.”

[obsidiancreates]

Some thoughts/criticisms of Battle of the Five Armies because I'm back on my Hobbit Movies bullshit

Should've put more screen time (and by "more" I mean "any at all") into Thorin's descent into the Gold Madness/Dragon Sickness. A lot of BotFA feels, to me, a bit... meandering. Like they needed to hit a certain length but weren't fully sure how to fill it (and I think that also shows in how it's the shortest of all 3 movies, at least Extended Edition-wise). We go right from "They all watched Smaug die," to "He's been down there for days and he's as Gold-Mad as Thror." We needed more connective tissue between those scenes- even just a scene of Bilbo noticing Thorin is refusing food, maybe trying to convince him to eat ("Thorin, take your share." "I've no need of it." "You can't live on gold alone, you know, heh, ahem." "We shall see, Master Baggins.") or something like that.

I get why Smaug died in the first twenty minutes. I do! There's both story reasons as well as behind-the-scenes logistical reasons (can y'all imagine what these movies would've been like if they'd had Reasonable Deadlines, less studio pressure, and more ethical cast and crew treatment? It would've fixed any of the CGI issues, they could've cleaned up some of the odd pacing and editing moments, none of those awful "QUICK QUICK QUICK WE'RE ALMOST OUT OF TIME!" moments in the Appendices would've existed... Fuck Warner Bros, man. Peter Jackson obviously had a lot to do with a lot of the unethical overtime and expectations and wasted time/effort, but like Warner Bros also contributed to this Massively). Anyway, I get why Smaug died so early into the movie. But god, I wish he hadn't. Now I haven't read the novel to it's end in about 13 years give or take- I keep picking it up, getting a good ways in, forgetting to continue, and then picking it up and starting over at the beginning- but I remember Smaug's death being a very Little Thing in the book, since it was Third-Person limited (mostly) and Bilbo wasn't in Laketown. I know that this wasn't a moment of Inaccuracy (though honestly I don't mind most of the inaccuracies but that's for another post some other time) but it was a moment of Deeply Unsatisfying Payoff. Again, I understand why! It's kinda unsatisfying in the novel too- frankly, a lot of the ending stuff in The Hobbit is, but you didn't hear that from me, got it? I'm not sure, exactly, what I wish was different about it. Killing Smaug at the end of Desolation wasn't really a viable or satisfying option either, and focusing more on Laketown would've gotten tedious and repetitive- only so much Burning and Screaming can be made into Watchable Cinema at one time. I think perhaps a larger focus on Gandalf and his experiences with Sauron could've worked here- especially if Sauron is somehow Aware of Laketown falling and uses this to mock and torment Gandalf, speaking of how the quest of the dwarves has truly failed and Middle-Earth is soon to fall the same way- but again, I understand why they didn't do that, that's just a lot of Ian McKellen sitting in a birdcage getting Taunted by an Eyeball. So I don't know what I would've had them change, and I think a not insignificant amount of this Dissatisfaction is unavoidable given the glossed-over nature of the very same plot point in the book. But it's still saddening, especially since they nailed Smaug so well and he's such a fun villain to watch on screen. Azog... a good deal less so.

Bro we couldn't have had one line where they were like "OH GOD FILI KILI BOFUR AND OIN ARE STILL DOWN THERE!" when they were watching Laketown burn? One show that someone remembered FOUR OF THEIR PARTY IS STILL THERE?!

Some of the line deliveries in this movie were an... interesting, choice, to make into the final cut. I'll chalk it up to Those Damn Studio Deadlines, though.

I know I already talked about this but SERIOUSLY WHERE WAS THE CONNECTIVE TISSUE OF THORIN'S MADNESS, IT AIN'T EVEN IN THE EXTENDED THE EXTENDED IS MOSTLY THE ACTUAL BATTLE (plus the Best Scene In The Movie where Balin alludes to Bilbo to keep the Arkenstone hidden forever, which it's a crime that was left out of the theatrical by the way).

Yeah okay the Kili and Tauriel parting at the shore was kind cliched and acted weird. Again I'll chalk it up to The Deadlines.

If we could've have had the Connective Tissue scene(s), I wish the reunion with Bofur, Oin, Fili, and Kili had been a proper scene and not just a quick cutaway. It would've been a great opportunity to catch them and the audience up on Thorin's condition and how he got to that state, as well as establish how The Company In General feels about it earlier into the movie.

Again, I know why they didn't... but even a hint that the Madness was taking the other Dwarves at least a little bit would've been nice. I truly feel that, by the time of The Ramparts, the party was at a point where at least 1 or 2 of them would've decided to go with Bilbo, and a hint that they're all slightly under the spell of the gold in the way Thorin is would've really made their decision to all 12 of them stay behind make more sense. Yes, Thorin is their king and their leader and their friend and Dwarves are known to be very loyal- but Bilbo has stood in as a leader, rescuer, and friend often enough that I think one or two of the party, in their own fully right minds, would've chosen to go with him, especially after witnessing such a horrific display from Thorin.

The pacing of the movie in general Needs Some Help, that can't go unsaid- but again, Those Damn Deadlines. The amount of palpable stress from the crew in the Appendices is genuinely stressful and heart-wrenching, and I blame the majority of my issues with this movie- and the other two- on Warner Bros being completely unreasonable with their time expectations. Especially since they pushed this 2-movie project into being 3 movies, like Fuck off, Warner Bros.

GOD I WISH MORE OF THE RING STUFF HAD CARRIED OVER FROM DESOLATION. Like again I get why it didn't, this movie kind of takes some of the focus off Bilbo and uses that extra attention on Thorin and Bard and Legolas, which I enjoy. But still, The Ring Moments in Desolation were so good, and the effect The Ring had on Bilbo in Desolation is not unlike the effect the gold has on Thorin- but Bilbo is better at fighting it. It would've been nice to see something done with that, especially as Thorin was falling to madness and Bilbo maybe recognized some of the signs from his own experiences like the one in Mirkwood. But also THE RING STUFF WAS SO COOOOOOLLLLLLLLL I WANT MORE OF ITTTTTTTTTTTTTT

[damonsvftie]

“𝐌𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐌𝐞 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐓𝐨 𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐘𝐨𝐮”

MASTERLIST☁️

Summary: Draco Malfoy casually flirting with you for the whole semester has already swept you off your feet but what happens when it’s just the two of you, alone?

NOTE: 1.8k Words AND this is for @approved-by-dentists aka Clarissa’s 400 writing challenge! This was so much fun to write and congrats on 400 you deserve it 🌈

Warnings: SOME SEXUAL TENSION, kissing, tongue and that’s pretty much it i guess THIS IS 1.8K WORDS

“Y/n are you down to go to Hogsmeade this week?” Questioned Pansy as we walked down the crowded corridors trying to shove our way to our next lesson.

“I’m down... so who else is going to be going?” I asked as curiosity delved deeper into my mind.

“I assume Blaise, Crabbe and Goyle are tagging along,” she replied as she clutched onto her books against her chest making sure she didn’t drop them.

A wave of relievement rushed through my body as I deeply exhaled. I was glad that Draco Malfoy wasn’t going to be going especially after the past few weeks of constant flirting over this current semester. Purposely being touchy, muttering sweet things into my ear, wanting to work with me during lessons, all that jazz. You name it and I assure you he was doing it all.

But I couldn’t lie that a part of me didn’t also want him to be there. Over the whole semester,I developed some sort of crush on him but I assured myself it wasn’t anything serious. Because it wasn’t.

“Earth to you y/n,” she muttered as she nudged me slightly causing me to snap out of my thoughts.

“Uh yeah?” I mumbled as a a tiny frown painted across my lips, making me look in the opposite direction.

“I forgot to mention that Draco’s also coming,” she added casually as I turned my attention back to her, almost instantly.

“You mean Malfoy-,” I stuttered as other students bumped into the two of us.

“Uh yeah.. Malfoy..,” She responded, her face puzzled.

I could feel the sweat that was starting to form under my uniform, from hearing his name roll of the tip of her tongue and my hands were beginning to slightly quivering. Maybe it was because I was sat next to him in the lesson that I was heading for now.

Making my way into class, i plopped down onto the seat next to Malfoy wearily.

“Ah..look who do we have here?” He stated playfully as he scooted his seat closer to mine.

“I’m not in the mood Malfoy,” I groaned back as I shoved my books out of my bag.

“Ooh not so friendly,” he added almost as if he was trying to get on my nerves until I gave him a deathly glare making him back up a bit.

There were moments during class where our knees would accidentally touch or his hand would graze mine making me fluster at the sudden contact.

When class finished he began pestering me again. “I heard you might be going to Hogsmeade with us,” he stated as I simply ignored him.

My perception of things were like ‘let’s ignore him and hope I can easily get myself out of this’ sort of thing. Therefore I kept blanking him every single time he tried to talk to me.

As I was exiting the classroom, he held onto my wrist loosely making it compulsory for me to turn around and face him. “Let go of me,” I spoke through gritted teeth.

“Not until you tell me what’s your problem?” He countered as he furrowed his brows, his grip becoming tighter.

“It’s none of your business,” I responded quickly before turning on my heels ready to leave until he leaned towards my ear from behind.

“Are you sure it’s none of my business?” He whispered as a playful smirk appeared on his face.

—

“That looks ridiculously perfect on you,” complimented Pansy as I came down the stairs to the common room. I was wearing a basic,black, midi dress paired along with matching high thigh boots, topped with a winter formal coat.

“Thank you, you look gorgeous too,” I said as my cheeks glowed with a rosy coloured tint.

—

Making our way to Hogsmeade, me and Pansy met up with the boys. As soon as I walked in, Malfoy’s mouth was hung slightly open as he stared at me in awe.

“What’s good?” Asked Blaise to the two of us as my heart started beating rapidly. I could have sworn at some point Draco was checking me out. His eyes darting up and down at my figure as I stood their biting on the inside flesh of my cheek as a coping mechanism.

“I think it’s better if we go and explore in pairs,” blurted Draco. Unluckily, I knew where this was headed. Blaise’s and Pansy left for Honeydukes and Crabbe and Goyle headed to the shrieking shack ,leaving me with Draco Malfoy.

“You uh.. you look beautiful today,” he pointed out his cheeks slightly flustering.

“Are you saying that I don’t look beautiful on a regular day?” I questioned my face distorted in confusion.

“No! That’s not what I meant, I mean you look beautiful every day.. you know,” he answered hastily before jamming his hands into his pockets, glancing up at me every now and then.

“Oh do I really?” I taunted. If he thought that this game could only be played by him, then he was wrong. This was a game for two.

—

Somehow convincing me to hang out with him, we ended up in the three broomsticks each with a cup of butterbeer, that tasted like cream soda with an extra thick layer of whipped cream on top as we sat opposite one another.

“So are you going to tell me why you keep ignoring me or what?” He insisted before placing his cup down.

“Nah, I think I’ll keep it to myself,” I replied smugly as I took a sip out of my frothy drink.

out of no where, he started giggling making my heart explode with overloaded cuteness. “Why are you giggling?” I questioned as I wrinkled my nose.

“You’ve got some cream on your nose.. here let me help you,”. He leaned across the table as he started to clean me up. I couldn’t help but stare at his gorgeous,pale face. My gaze wandered above as I stared into his soft,grey eyes.

When he noticed, a small smile crept up his face as he observed me for a quick second, before pulling away from me.

“Thank.. you,” I said as the words were stuck in my throat.

“Don’t be,” was all he replied with before getting up from his seat, extending his hand towards me.

“Shall we?” He asked, before I took his hand in mine.

—

Letting my guard down, I actually enjoyed Draco’s company. He was just so much fun and he hadn’t even yet failed to make me laugh. I felt as if In the last two hours, I had gotten to know the more adorable, dork side of him as he himself put his bad boy demeanour to the side for once.

“You know Malfoy.. your not so bad as everyone makes you out to seem,” I spoke as we strolled down Hogsmeade quietly.

“I’m glad,” was all that he said before moving on to the next thing. “So are you going to tell me why you kept ignoring me now?” He questioned as we stopped near a desolate area.

I chewed on my lip as my heart started thumping at the question. I couldn’t avoid it now. I had to tell him the real reason.

“If I tell you... you have to swear on Merlin that whatever I spill doesn’t affect whatever we have going on,” I said defensively.

“I mean if you put it that way then sure, I swear on Merlin it won’t affect whatever we have going on,” he sweared. I could feel my muscles tensing up as I clutched on the fabric of my dress.

“Draco I- ... I really like you,” I huffed as my arms folded against my chest. He let out a confused giggled before responding.

“I like you too y/n,” he stated abnormally.

It came to my conclusion that he had gotten the whole situation twisted.

“No, Draco.. what I mean when I say I really like you is that ... it’s more than just like,” I exhaled deeply in disappointment, hanging my head in shame as I exaggerated the last word.

His eyebrows raised slightly as his mouth opened when it had finally hit him. “Too bad were not together then,” he murmured, just loud enough for me to hear him.

“You gotta stop saying things like that,” I complained.

“Saying things like what?” He interrogated, before smiling down to the floor.

“Saying things that ...make me want to kiss you,” I disclosed, as the last of my words turned into a whisper.

“Maybe you should... maybe you shouldn’t,” he played,as he took a few steps closer to me, closing the gap that was formed between the two of us, his face an inch away from mine.

“Golly gosh y/n, your heart is beating so fast,” he laughed as he threw back his head a bit.

“I can’t help.. help it,” my breathing hitching continuously as I pursed my lips together into a fine line.

“Is this how I make you feel?” His voice purring into my ear as his hand travelled down my thigh.

His mouth dipped lower down my neck, sending me tingles down my spine as I felt his minty breathe fanning my sweet spot where I needed him the most. I felt as if I were putty whenever he laid his hands on me. Resting his hand on my thigh, he bought it back up as he softly moved my hair over the other side of my shoulder continuing to tease the life out of me.

I just couldn’t take it anymore. Grabbing his face with my hands I instantly pressed my lips against his. His eyes were wide open at the sudden action, since it was so unexpected but going along with it he enjoyed the sensual moment.

His lips tasted like a hint of butterbeer as he wrapped them around my lower lip slightly tugging and nipping at it softly with his teeth causing me to slightly open my entrance.

Taking advantage, he slipped his tongue into my mouth causing me to jolt pulling away from him, my hands now on his chest as we giggled before going at it once again.

This time it wasn’t so violent, it was sweet and sensual as he sucked on my top lip.My hands wrapped around his waist as I pulled him closer until he could hear my rapid heartbeat once again. This caused him to deepen the kiss further as his hands found their way to the ends of my hair lightly tugging at them.

Pulling away panting, his hands made their way to my waist as we looked at one another in utter awe.

“I can’t believe that just happened,” my face flustering in his presence.

“Really? Because I saw that coming,” a smug look across his face. “Maybe I should continue saying things like that,” he added as he pulled me closer.

“Saying things like what?” I asked as my fingers toyed with the buttons on his coat.

“Things that make you want to kiss me”

[magnusmysteries]

Part 3: The Wheel of Fear

The Magnus Archives was a horror podcast. It is now completed. Many of the show’s mysteries were never explained on the show. I intend to explain them. Spoilers for the show, but also spoilers if you wanna solve these mysteries yourself.

In the Architecture of Fear Smirke talks about a great wheel of fear. He talks of the fourteen powers, each with their opposites and their allies. I think Smirke believed the fourteen fears could be arranged in a circle, and that two fears on opposite sides of the circle are opposites. 

In Old Passages there is a circular room with fourteen corridors leading out of it and a datestone that says “Robert Smirke. 1835. Balance and Fear.” I think each corridor represents a fear, with opposing fears placed opposite each other. The building is supposed to balance and thereby neutralize the fears. I think it works to some extent. In End of the Tunnel there is a similar structure. This one was damaged by a bomb during World War 2. This ruined the balance, and the Dark got out.

In Family Business Gerard says some fears really clash with each other, while others can blend together.

I tried to work out how Smirke arranged his fears on the wheel. I looked for episodes where two fears seemed to blend together and put them next to each other. With some fears it is fairly obvious they are neighbors, if you look for the clues. Others connections are harder to spot. I tried a few versions of the wheel that didn’t feel completely right. But then I found a version where suddenly lots of things clicked. It explained why the web table could trap the Not-Then, why Robert Monthauk’s ritual banished the darkness monster and things like that. I think this is the correct wheel:  

Description of image: A circle with 14 spots similar to a clock. On each spot is a number and the name of a power: 1. Corruption. 2. Desolation. 3. Hunt. 4. Slaughter. 5. End. 6. Lonely. 7. Stranger. 8. Flesh. 9. Spiral. 10. Buried. 11. Dark. 12. Vast. 13. Eye. 14. Web.

Here is how powers overlap:

Corruption and Desolation 

Desolation deals with suffering and loss of loved ones, and disease can cause both of those things.

Asag is a god of both fire and disease.

John Amherst is an avatar of both powers. There is fire in every episode he appears. In Taken Ill the old folks home he managed burns. It appears it was burned by Trevor and Julia, but this is misdirection. Amherst burned it himself. In Pest Control Amherst is burned, yet survives. In the Tale of A Field Hospital Jonathan notices the statement is charred. He speculates this happened when Gertrude burned the book. But I think the book spontaneously combusted. In A Cozy Cabin we learn that Gertrude is very much against burning books in the archives, and would have been more careful and not ruined the statement. And in Rotten Core Adelard says he will sit on Amherst’s throne and burn himself and it. I think that was a very bad idea, more on that in a later post.

In Squirm the protagonist, after being infected by worms, burns his own apartment down. He is influenced by Corruption/Desolation.

Desolation and Hunt 

You can run from a hunter and you can run from fire.

Vampires are Hunt, Desolation and Corruption. In Vampire Killer we learn that vampires burn very easily. Because of the Desolation.

Why do vampires have a long bloodsucking tongue? Because the Corruption deals with mosquitoes.

There is a hint about the vampire-mosquito connection in Dead Horse; “That night the mosquitos were out in force, thick with fever, and hungry for our blood. I did my best to simply ignore them, safe as I was in my net. But over in Raleigh’s tent I kept hearing a sporadic thumping, or clapping sound, as if he were killing them with his bare hands. When I asked him about it the next day, he simply told me he had inside him a strong and enduring hatred of bloodsuckers.”

And then later: “Now, he and his crew were pinning the things that looked like men to trees, with long, iron spikes. They thrashed, and struggled, and a long, bulbous tongue hung from their throats, pinned by the iron of von Toll’s men. “I cannot stand bloodsuckers,” Raleigh said approvingly, as he conversed quietly with Baron von Toll in French.”

Also in Vampire Killer, the vampire offers rotten fruit to Trevor. Her house is dusty, a book Trevor picks up is damp and moldy and the bed is musty. 

Hunt and Slaughter 

The similarities are obvious.

Several of the Slaughter episodes have music that makes people go violent: The Piper, Strange Music, Grifter’s Bone, Civilian Casualties, Nemesis.  Total War had singing corpses. Two hunter episodes also had music connection. First Hunt has the werewolf whistling “A-hunting-we-shall go”. Thrill of the Chase had the protagonist tapping her foot as if to music right before the violence started.

Thrill of The Chase is a Hunt/Slaughter episode. The Man in the mask is like a serial killer from a movie, very Slaughter. But it is a wolf mask, very Hunt.

Slaughter and End

People die in war.

Absent Without Leave covers both fears. Slaughter obviously, but it is also about the inevitableness of death.

Many Slaughter episodes deal with the living dead. And they usually seem to have a horrible existence: The guy getting stabbed in the Smell of Blood. All the soldiers fused together that shot Melanie. The dead people in Grifter’s Bone that had to fight each other. The dead woman in Absent without a leave. The corpses in the tunnel in the same episode. This makes people fear death since they don’t wanna end up like that.

The End also has the skin book which similarly makes people live after death, and it is agony. And Oliver Banks was alive after death.

In Total War, a Slaughter episode, the statement giver says he could believe he was dead and in hell. 

End And Lonely 

You’re all alone when you’re dead I guess.

In the episode Alone, the statement giver is almost drawn into an empty grave. Very End. 

There is also a ghost in that episode. So life after death, like with the End and the Slaughter.

The Lucas family only meet for funerals.

From Boatswain’s call, regard Peter Lukas: “His eyes only moved a fraction of an inch to focus on me, but it felt as though the movement had the weight of a heavy stone door. Like a tomb. Don’t know why that’s what popped into my head, but there you go.”

Lonely and Stranger 

If everyone is a stranger to you, you are lonely.

Lost in the Crowd and Monologue are Lonely/Stranger episodes.

Stranger and Flesh 

Stranger deals with objects that behave like people. Flesh deals with thinking people are just flesh, an object.

Anatomy Class is a Stranger/Flesh episode.

Flesh and Spiral 

Thinking you are just meat is a kind of madness.

In Killing Floor the protagonist is lost in a slaughterhouse maze, very Flesh and Spiral. He also walks a spiral staircase at some point.

I think Jared Hopworth is both Flesh and Spiral. Many reasons for him being Spiral: First: He prays on people with mental problems, body dysmorphia, anorexia etc.

Second: In The Butcher’s Window he twists a bone into a spiral and inserts it in himself.

Third: The book The Boneturner's Tale makes nearby books bleed. I think objects that bleed, that should not have blood, is a sign of the Spiral. The door handle in a Sturdy Lock bled. The tree in Burned Out bled. I think the tree is Spiral, much more on that in another post. Books, door handles and trees that bleed are all impossible, madness. Some might object that blood also fits with the Flesh, but the Flesh is actually fairly into cleanliness. I’ll explain why below.  

Fourth: when Michael Crew is tormented by the Spiral he tries to escape by using the Boneturner’s Tale. “...but when I tried to shift the bits of myself I thought might set me free, the only shapes I could form with them were laced with that horrid, hunting fractal.” You can’t escape from the Spiral by using a book of the Spiral.

Mary Keay seems to think the book that drops bones is of the Flesh “Just a bit of viscera. Poems about dying animals...” The book is part Flesh, hence the dying animals, but is also Spiral. If you see a book producing bones you’d think you’d gone mad right? 

Also in Old Passages, the bone book is stored in the room corresponding to the Spiral. The floor of that room’s corridor apparently bleeds. “I put my hand onto the floor to push myself up, and it came away faintly tinged with red.” There is a mummified hand in the Spiral room, hands are often an element with the Spiral. Think of the Distortion’s hands, or the Worker-in-Clay’s weird hands, or the hands coming out of the pot in Lost and Found. After entering the room, the statement giver gets very confused. He says his memories start to blur, and he ends up apparently taking the wrong door several times. That’s the Spiral messing with his mind and making him lost.

The demon In Confession and Desecrated Host might be of Spiral/Flesh. Or it might be the two Fears working together. More on that in a later post.

Spiral and Buried 

Strong claustrophobia can be irrational, a mental problem. The Spiral includes the fear of getting lost, and you can get lost in a cave.

The Distortion has a yellow door that is a portal to impossible places. The Coffin is yellow and is a portal to an impossible place.

Held in Customs is Buried/Spiral. Time behaved differently for the protagonist, typically Spiral. John says the protagonist got Alzheimer, but it is the Spiral messing with his memories.

Lost Johns’ Cave is Buried/Spiral/Dark. The protagonist's memories are all wrong, the Spiral has changed them. And the cave is a maze. Mazes are spiral. The statement giver is a big fan of darkness.

Buried and Dark 

Caves are dark and cramped. The ocean is dark and choking.

Lights Out is Buried/Dark. Quote: “I was in the Sandman’s sack. (...) The darkness pressed in, and seemed to fill my mouth, my nose.” Also the Sandman spills sand from his mouth, similar to how people chocked on sand in Dust to Dust and how the man spit out mud in We All Ignore The Pit.

Submerged is Buried/Dark. The protagonist is in danger of drowning but there are lots of references to darkness: The lights at the lawyer office don't work because the lightbulb is filled with water. There is thunder but no lightning, that is there are no lights in the sky. There are no street lights or lights on in the other houses. Water is described as dark and murky. The lights of the cars come on, to show dark shapes moving in the water. Quote about the water: "It would wrap itself around me, reach down my throat and fill me with its choking darkness." The water is murky. Dark water is also in several Dark episodes: a Father Love, Nightfall, Tucked In and the Movement of the Heavens. 

Dark and Vast 

The ocean is dark and vast. Space is dark and vast.

High Pressure is a Dark/Vast/Buried episode. The space the protagonist enters seems too dark. The vastness of the underwater space and the size of the creature is Vast. The enormous pressure is Buried.

In Big Picture we learned that Hailey, of the Dark, helped make the diving bell for the Vast ritual.

In Old Passages the first corridor the statement giver is in, is of the Buried. He keeps thinking the corridor is getting narrower. When he gets to the circular room he looks down the other doorways. One makes him feel like he’s gonna fall into it. One is exceptionally dark. It’s the corridors of the Vast and the Dark. They would be the corridors next to the Buried, the first doorways the statement giver would look into.

Vast and Eye 

From The Coming Storm, Mike Crew discussing the Vast and the Eye: “We have a lot in common, really. After all, what, what good’s the height, the terrifying draw of gravity, unless you, unless you really know the scale of what you’re facing?”

In The Architecture of Fear an enormous Eye fills the sky.

In Twice as Bright Jude says of Michael Crew “...he’s closer to your lot than mine.” Meaning the Vast is closer to the Eye than the Desolation.

Quote from Jurgen Leitner: “Imagine, you are an ant, and you have never before seen a human. Then one day, into your colony, a huge fingernail is thrust, scraping and digging. You flee to another entrance, only to be confronted by a staring eye gazing at you. You climb to the top, trying to find escape and, above you, can see the vast dark shadow of a boot falling upon you. Would that ant be able to construct these things into the form of a single human being? Or would it believe itself to be under attack by three different, equally terrible, but very distinct assailants?”

Jurgen is referencing four powers here, the eye is the Eye. The boot is the Vast and the Dark. The digging fingernail is the Buried. And these four powers are next to each other, so in a way they are the same.

When Jurgen said this he was compelled by John. John did not know that he was compelling Jurgen, but Jurgen did know. Jurgen seemed to not want to give too much information. He was perhaps worried John would learn that destroying the archives would kill John. That Leitner, indirectly, was planning to kill John. So Leitner talked in riddles. That way he could give into the compulsion without John getting wiser.

Eye and Web

Both powers can seem passive, waiting and watching. Spiders have eight eyes.

The Book A Guest for Mister Spider is part Eye. Mr. Spider has eight eyes of all shapes and sizes.

Archivists are Eye/Web. First, the way they compel people to speak is very Web. 

Second, the ancient archivist in Alexandria had long spindly fingers. Like spider legs. In Web Development Annabelle Cane is also described as having long spindly fingers. In Thought For The Day Annabelle moves her fingers along the wall, “...like a spider”.

Third, In Doomed Voyage, after John takes Floyd’s statement, Floyd seems confused. John tried to soothe him. Then John says “It’s alright, Floyd. You just need a break.” Floyd says “Yeah. Sure”. I think John was mind controlling Floyd. I think there is a little static when John speaks. Static on the tape often indicates that something magic is happening.  

In Heavy Goods John tells Breekon “Stop”. Breekon is upset. Then John extracts a statement from Breekon’s mind. I think John mind controlled Breekon to stand still. There’s definitely a lot of static.

In Infectious Doubts Gertrude tells Arthur that he can try to leave. It seems he tries but is unable to. I think Gertrude is mind controlling him to stay. 

Web and Corruption 

Insects and spiders are similar. Probably many people afraid of one of them are also afraid of the other.

In Hive Jane Prentiss talks about the song of the hive that affects her. She says webs has a song as well.

Each fear has an opposite:

The Corruption vs. The Flesh 

Because rot harms meat.

The Flesh tends to be very clean. The student in Anatomy Class cleaned up all the blood they spilled. The slaughterhouse maze in killing Floor was very clean. This is to combat the Corruption.

The Man Upstairs was about a Flesh avatar being attacked by the corruption.

I think Blood Bag was also about the Corruption versus the Flesh. More on than in a later post.

The Desolation vs. The Spiral

I’ll explain why they are opposed in a later post, when I get to Hill Top Road.

The Hunt vs. The Buried

The Hunt is a lot about running from a predator. Can’t run in a cramped space.

When Daisy was in the Buried she was freed from the Hunt. It could not reach her there, because it was an opposite force.

The Slaughter vs. The Dark

I’ll explain why they are opposites in the next post.

In The Piper the Slaughter kills Jonathan Rayner of the Dark.

In A Father’s Love the father performs a ritual that involves killing many people. The ritual destroys the darkness monster that is coming for his daughter. I think this worked because it was a ritual of the Slaughter, the opposite of the Dark. The father is chanting as he stabs the human heart. The Slaughter is often associated with music. 

The End vs. The Vast

From Dead Woman Walking, Georgie talking about the End: “The promise of a cold and lonely eternity in the grave would have been a mercy; at least it would be eternal. But everything ends, even the universe, even time. (...) ...the monumental realization of the scale we existed on. Not the meaningless vastness of the universe, but the… the smallness of it.” Sounds like the opposite of the Vast.

I think the Vast also deals with the fear of eternity. First: notice how Georgie said eternity would be a mercy. 

Second: notice how old Simon Fairchild was.

Third: In Submerged we learn that Gertrude threw Jan Kilbride’s body into the pit to disrupt the Buried ritual. John says “But Gertrude also realized that the body need not be alive. Or in one piece. She thought it was a mercy. It wasn’t.” I think this means she chopped up the body, but Jan was still alive. Jan was touched by the Vast. I think this had made him immortal, to make him fear eternity. 

Fourth: In Personal Space a door in password to the door is E109GHT8. Someone on the Magnus subreddit figured out what it means. It refers to the three fears that owned the space station, the Lonely, the Dark and the Vast. For the Lonely, the 10 should be read like lo, and the beginning of the nine as n, giving is elon, sounding like alone. For the Dark, the 9 sounds like ni, making 9GHT sound like night. For the Vast, the 8 sideways is an infinity symbol 

Fifth: in Freefall, when the guy is falling through infinite sky, his watch has stopped and he doesn’t know how long he has fallen. It feels like hours or days. But when he returns it has not been that long. The spiral messes with time to make people doubt their sanity. The Vast does it to make people fear eternity. 

Sixth, quote from A Matter of Perspective: “I don’t know how long I was floating for. I know it was less than a billion years, which is barely a heartbeat in the life of the universe, so how can it really be said to matter? The stars began to wink out, one by one, and I thought – perhaps for a second, perhaps for a hundred years…”

I believe the immortal gamblers from Cheating Death, Section 31 and Burial rites, were not of the End, like John thought, but of the Vast. They didn’t want to die at first, hence they gambled for life. That is the choice they made to embrace the Vast. But later they become afraid not of death, but the opposite, of not dying. The mummy in the pyramid tried to stab itself to death. The gambler in Section 31 tried to shoot himself. There is a symbol of infinity on the pyramid. 

In High Pressure, the statement begins and ends with the statement giver saying she should be dead. She didn’t die because she was touched by the Vast.

The Stranger vs The Web 

The Stranger makes dolls, puppets etc. into living things. The Web does the opposite, makes living people into puppets.

In Heavy Goods Breekon says of the Spider “It knows too much to truly be a stranger.” The Stranger has the Unknowing, a ritual based on not knowing things.  

The Web table trapped a creature of the Stranger. Quote from Jonathan after he smashed the table: “Smash the table, kill the monster, stupid! Lazy, sloppy assumption. Of course the table was binding it. The table is webs and spiders. Spiders are something else. They don’t help each other, they oppose, they… they weaken.”

In Nightfall Officer Musterman tells John he doesn’t know who is listening to the tapes, but that he doesn’t like it. The tapes are Web and Mustermann is Stranger.

In Angler Fish, the Stranger targets smokers. Smokers, like other addicts, are weak to the Web. So the Stranger isn’t just getting victims, it is fighting the Web.

The Eye vs. The Lonely 

Because if you’re watched you’re not alone.

In Personal Space, there is a camera apparently recording the lonely astronaut. But then he finds out the wires of the camera were severed from the start. So it is scary for the astronaut that no-one was watching him, the opposite of the Eye.

But if every fear has an opposite, what about the Extinction? Find out next post.

[theshotsheardacrossworlds]

Prisoner

Agnes/Estinien. Beauty and the Beast AU. Corrai Currai, Agi’s father, has gone missing near the border of the Black Shroud and Coerthas. She takes her trusty chocobo Horace up north and finds a frozen, desolate land...and a castle... SFW

There once was a prince who lived in a castle in the mountains to the north. He was beautiful but cruel and vain. One night, an old beggar woman arrived at his castle asking for food and shelter. He turned her away, announcing to his court that “no hags shall ever darken our halls.”

The old beggar woman was, in fact, a witch, who showed the prince her true nature. She told him that he needed to learn a lesson---to value the lives around him and not be so shallow. She then cursed the prince and all who served him.

“You have until the Eye of Nidhogg, a great wyrm who was consumed by hatred, has faded to learn how to love. To break the curse, you must find true love. Find the one for whom your heart sings. Without her, you and yours will be cursed for the end of time.” For how long the eye would remain glowing they did not know…and nor the prince care. His life as he knew it was over. The lands he ruled over were now under eternal winter.

His days and nights were spent watching the Eye slowly fade...

***

Agnes Currai was worried.

Her Da had left with Horace and the cart to bring dried fish up to the markets in Fallgourd Float in the North Shroud five days ago.

He should’ve returned by now. He’s always back within a few days.

Since her Mum died a few years ago, Agnes stopped being an adventurer and traveling healer to stay in Costa del Sol with her Da and help around the cottage. She was currently pacing around said cottage waiting to hear from an old adventuring comrade in the North Shroud to hear if her father had been spotted.

“Hello kupo! Note for Agnes Currai! Urgent kupo!” A delivery moogle shouted as it flew right into the front door. “OUCH!”

Oh no! Agnes grabbed her staff and opened the door to find the moogle on the ground. “Here you are, kupo.” She healed the moogle and picked it up. “I’m so sorry about the door.”

The moogle adjusted its cap and shook its head. “No kupo! I’m a bit of a klutz! Urgent note for Agnes Currai!”

Agnes took the note and read it.

Agi,

Sorry to say there’s no sign of your Da, but there was a cart (with a broken wheel) found on the road to Coerthas and a lone chocobo that returned here just today matching Horace’s description. He’s very agitated, so maybe come up and see if it’s him.

If there’s ought I can do to help further, please let me know.

Sanson Smyth

Trying to remain composed, Agnes folded the note and put it in her apron pocket. “Thank you so much. Here’s some gil for your trouble, my little friend.” She tried to hand over gil to the delivery moogle, who squealed.

“No, no kupo! Have a good day!” The moogle flew off to its destination, leaving Agnes even more worried than before.

I’ll teleport to Fallgourd Float, speak to Sanson in person, and then…I’ll find Da. I must.

***

Within the hour, Agnes arrived in the North Shroud with her staff, a small bag with emergency items, and a spare whistle for Horace. As soon as she looked around the aetheryte, she spotted a familiar Midlander hyur.

“Sanson!”

The shorter man turned and smiled. “Agi! I’m so sorry this meeting is not under happier circumstances. Come, follow me and I’ll show you the chocobo.”

Agnes’s instincts were correct in that chocobo in question was Horace (thank the gods). After giving him some pets and a few treats, she prepared to ride off towards Coerthas.

“Agi, no one has crossed the border in years. There’s stories of a beastly dragon in the mountains—”

Agnes waved a hand dismissively at Sanson. “My Da is out there. Maybe he’s hurt or sick. I’m not leaving him to die. I was an adventurer once upon a time, Sanson.” She said with a wink as she mounted Horace. “Horace, let’s go find Da. Take me to where you saw him last.”

Horace and his mistress rode north, while Sanson sighed.

“I do hope you know what you’re getting into, Agi. Nophica, pray keep my friend under your protection.”

***

“Fucking hells, it’s cold.” Agnes muttered as she and Horace continued to ride. “It…I’ve heard Coerthas is cold but not this cold.”

Horace let out a “kweh” and stopped. “Kweh! Kweh!”

Agnes dismounted and looked around. This is approximately in the middle of fucking nowhere in a cold forest. “Was this where you last saw Da, Horace?”

“Kweh!”

There’s a path leading to…somewhere. Wait a second—

Having seen a piece of torn cloth, Agnes realized immediately what it was. “It’s part of Da’s coat!” She held the piece of cloth to Horace’s beek. “Any ideas where he might’ve gone?”

“Kweh!” Horace took a few steps along the worn path.

“Hmmm, maybe Da got hurt and was looking for help? But why not head back to Fallgourd Float? Unless…” Unless he got lost. Oh no. “Alright Horace, let’s follow the path.”

Before long, Agnes and Horace arrived at a castle. The creepiest looking castle I’ve ever seen. It’s almost got black scales over the stone? Very creepy. And are those roses? What a massive garden. But where’s the…front door? Do castles have front doors? Where does one go and knock? “Horace, I see a stable, so why not wait in there for me? Maybe take a nap? I’ll leave some food with you.”

Horace kweh’d sadly as he and Agnes walked to the stable. “See, it’s very nice. I’ll be back in a bit.”

“Kweh!”

She trudged in the snow to what appeared to be the main door of the castle. Do I knock? And what the fuck do I even say? “Hello, is my Da in here?” Agnes knocked three times with no answer, so then she opened the door. Unlocked…very strange. As she stepped inside, the scent of dust filled her nose. It’s dark. I wonder if there’s a candle or a light or literally anything that’s not super creepy. “Da? Da?”

To her utter surprise, a voice shouted. “AGI! Agi, I’m down here!”

DA?! Staff now at the ready, Agnes tried to follow the voice of her father, noticing a stairwell off to the side. This way? She hurried as fast as she could and saw a sort of cell.

“AGI! Thank the gods, I knew you’d come lookin’ fer me!” Corrai Currai yelled as Agnes used magic to break the lock. “I knew—”

“Da, we have to get out of here. Horace is outside. You can ride him, and I’ll follow. Let’s go!” We can reminisce later!!! COME ON!

Just as Agnes turned, she bumped into something. Having looked up, she saw an upright dragon. FUCKING HELLS! Without a second thought, she readied her staff to cast Holy, but the dragon reached with its massive claw and snapped her staff like a dry twig. FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! “That was an expensive staff, asshole!”

The dragon roared.

Fuck. This is really bad.

“Who comes to free my prisoner?” The dragon asked, staring at Agnes. “He stole from me. His punishment is imprisonment for life.” He’s got a bit of a lisp and a very deep voice. Sexy voice to be honest...NO.

“Ser, I only wanted to pick a flower fer my daughter. This is her.” Corrai explained. “She’s an adventurer, my Agi is. Agi, I’m sorry…”

Agnes pat her father’s head. “Oh Da, it’s okay.” She then turned to the dragon. “And you! Imprisoning a man for picking a flower is monstrous! Who do you think you are?”

The dragon bared its very very very large fangs. “I am lord of this castle, and my word is law. Leave woman, lest you be imprisoned with your father!”

Fuck that shit. “I offer myself in my father’s place.” She reached for Corrai’s hand and squeezed. “Da, I’ll be okay.”

“No! Agi, no! You’ve got yer whole life ahead of you!” Corrai pleaded. “Please. I can stay.”

Agnes shook her head. “No Da. I’ll stay. You take Horace and go. Ride as fast as you can to my friend Sanson Smyth in the North Shroud. He’ll be waiting.” She squeezed his hand again. “I’ll be okay.”

The dragon rolled his eyes. “Touching. Now, decide thief. Shall you stay or go. Make it quick.”

Go. Please go. I’ll be fine. I can handle this twat.

Corrai sighed and squeezed his daughter’s hand. “I’ll be back fer you, Agi. I promise on your Mum’s grave.”

“LEAVE!” The dragon roared, baring all its fangs. Corrai gathered his coat and quickly scurried away, leaving Agnes and the dragon staring daggers at each other. “You broke the lock on the cell, woman.”

“My name isn’t woman, twat. It’s Agnes Currai---daughter of Corrai and Luci Currai.”

The dragon snorted. “If that man was indeed your father, then I have many questions.”

“I’m adopted, not that it matters. And just who the seven hells are you?”

“As I said, I’m lord of this castle. You may call me…Estinien.”

“Well Estinien, you broke my very expensive staff that I had made at the Carpenters Guild, so you better make me another one SINCE YOU BROKE IT.” Agnes’s anger filled her and her outburst, she thought, is rather unbecoming but fuck it, he broke my staff!

Estinien rolled his eyes. “A prisoner demanding recompense for a staff. How strange. AYMERIC!” He roared.

Who’s Aymeric? Wait a second---is that a bouncing candelabra?

“Forgive me, my lord. Ah, I see we have another visitor. I am Aymeric, milady. His highness’s valet and head of household.” The candelabra bowed, and Agnes blinked several times. “Might I show you to a properly furnished room? Pray follow me. This way.”

I’m losing my mind. I’ve got to be dreaming, right? Right?

“My lady, this way please. I can also have some food brought to you.”

With one last look at Estinien, Agnes followed Aymeric out of the hallway with the cell.

What the fuck is going on here? Lord of this castle? Why is a candelabra talking to me?!

***

Meanwhile, in Costa del Sol…

“I hath heard a strange rumor, mine friend.” Urianger Augurelt said as he sat to join his friend and companion Thancred Waters. “Agnes Currai left this place to search for her missing father Corrai Currai.”

Thancred snorted as he drank his beer. “That sounds like her---rushing headlong into yet another adventure. Oh Agi, I hope you return soon so that I could court you.”

Urianger raised an eyebrow. “You wish to court Agnes?”

“Of course! She’s beautiful, can cook, is a healer, and she’s tall! Our children would be perfect, wouldn’t you say?”

“I, erm—”

Thancred smirked. “Exactly! Agnes Currai is the woman I’m going to marry.”

[light-yaers]

Prompt idea:

I only like pain, so: something along the lines of “werewolf” by fiona apple. Where Din and Mando have somewhat of a stable relationship but he cuts it off when he takes Grogu as a foundling.

But then he comes back after Luke takes Grogu to train him, and asks for forgiveness. You choose if they get back together or not.

As I said, I like reading sad things lolol

Love your writing too!💜

OP said let’s get angsty. With how angst chapter 7 of No Saints is, let’s continue the train, shall we?

Tatooine Heat - Din Djarin x Reader

You were used to the heat on Tatooine now. It’d been several years of the same grind, the mid-morning heat that singed at your skin, and the sand that littered your entire body; but it was the closest thing to home you’d ever had.

So was he.

He’d stop by occasionally at first, landing his ship in Peli’s bay only to immediately be stubborn about her worker droids. You’d worked with the frizzy haired mechanic since you’d first landed on Tatooine, indulging in the way she always knew how to bite back at the monotonous words of the Mandalorian. He never stayed long; just enough to have his falling apart ship put back together again, to mosey into town on another hunt, and then fly off again.

You’d been tongue tied at first, too afraid to speak to the man with no face, but soon those little attempts as small talk turned into something more. Living on a desolate and harsh world, dealing with the thieves, the grease, the heat; it all seemed to disappear into the background with every conversation you had with him.

He called you by name, which you’d been told was an utter rarity for him. Occasionally, he brought you small trinkets from off-world, small jars of native rocks, a dried flower from the fields of Naboo, a stolen solid-gold wrench that he’d swiped from Canto Bight.

“This thing weighs a tonne, Mando,” You said, lifting the heavy wrench with both hands. You smiled at him, letting out a scoff.

“Sell it then,” He hit back with. His voice was still stern, still reserved, almost as if it was uncommon for him to show anything emotional within his tone. But you’d be lying if you didn’t relish in the small moments that he let it through; the tilt of his helmet, a subtle breathy laugh bursting from his modulator, an extra second of his gloved hand on your hand while he shook it goodbye.

“Please, this is a gift. I wouldn’t do that,” You replied, tracing your finger over the Canto Bight seal on the handle. Mando looked at the soft way you touched it, following your gentle fingers as they propped and swiped over the gold. Stars, it was the most expensive thing you’d ever owned-- touched. It was the most expensive thing you’d ever touched.

“I don’t know why they make solid-gold tools if no one can lift them,” He said, the hint of amusement on his lips at watching you struggle with it in your hands. You perked a brow at him.

“This will act as a reminder for me to do more heavy lifting, until I can eventually use this on the Razor Crest when you come back,”

Come back. You always wanted him to come back.

Mando nodded once, letting out a small huff in approval. “I look forward to the next time the Crest needs a hull repair,” Stars, you’d be lying if your heart hadn’t flipped beneath your ribcage. You nodded back at him, shooting him a soft smile and choosing to ignore the rising blush on your cheeks.

You placed the wrench back in your small quarters, fiddling with the angle it sat on your tiny desk space. It wasn’t a lot, but Peli had taken you in. It was home, and you liked it. The smell of smoke in the air, the slick of grease on your fingers and the satisfying way it swiped onto your overalls. It was enough.

You indulged then, peering out at the courtyard while Mando waited for you to return. He stood stoically, tracing his visor around the bay and fiddling with his gloved fingers. For a moment, just that moment, he was alone. You saw the way he’d slumped his shoulder slightly, the way he wasn’t holding himself up at full capacity, the almost human way that his hips seemed to curve beneath his Beskar.

Stars, it was a sight that you looked forward to every few months; it was one that you patiently waited for every time he left again. Though, recently, he had been returning more often. It was becoming common for the Mandalorian to return to Tatooine once or twice a month now, and stars-- you weren’t complaining.

Maybe you were picking at straws, but the way he treated you was different. Different to Peli, different to anyone else on the planet, different for him. Stars, he brought you gifts. Was that a common thing to do on Mandalore? You doubted it.

You inhaled sharply, striding out of your quarters and back to towards him. You wiped your hands on your overalls, flicking some sweat soaked hair out of your face. That was something you had to live with on Tatooine; the salt, the sweat, the way your face was always covered in the stuff while you worked. It was no matter-- you wanted to guess that Mando had seen people in a much worse state.

“It’s on my desk now. Will probably gather dust before I can put it to good use, but there’s no way I’m letting anyone else touch it,” You chuckled. Mando regarded you for a few seconds, keeping his visor on your face. You gasped slightly-- was he looking you up and down beneath his helmet? He could do that, couldn’t he? Not move his head, but just trickle his eyes over you as you stood right in front of him while you were none the wiser.

You cleared your throat, slotting your hands into your overalls, until he finally shuffled on his feet. “Thank you, Mando. It’s a lovely gift,” You said, and you meant it. You laced sincerity within your voice tenfold, trying to get across what it truly meant to have him visit you, bring you these gifts, give you his company, without actually spilling everything you wanted to.

“You’re... welcome,” He said hesitantly. It was like he’d never been thanked before. It only made your heart pang for him. “I’ll be going,” He finished, and you perked up, walking round to the ramp of the Razor Crest with him. He strode onto the ramp, cape fluttering behind him in the Tatooine wind-- but he stopped before he reached the inside.

His back was turned to you, his shoulders tense and raised, his fists clenched, before he abruptly turned round and strode back to you. Stars, you panicked a bit, not used to seeing him like this; unpredictable, almost pained. You raised your hands to your chest in some attempt at defence, not knowing if this man was about to hug you or kill you--

But he did neither.

He grasped your forearms within his large leather gloved hands, tugging you towards him quickly, until you almost slammed into his Beskar clad chest. You were speechless as the breath caught in the back of your throat, as his helmet descended towards your ear slowly.

“Don’t let Peli touch it,” The wrench, he was talking about the fucking wrench. “It’s yours. I got it for you,”

All too soon, he was striding back into the Razor Crest, leaving you down below on the brink of throwing up your heart. Mando smashed the ramp controls, and it slowly began to rise. He stared at you, soaking in your red face, your sweat lined forehead and mess of overalls, unwavering until the ramp had fully ascended. He was encased in metal two times over.

You watched the Razor Crest fly away, praying to some god out there that he wouldn’t die before you got to see him again.

He didn’t come back that month.

He didn’t return with a crumbling ship, or his stoic stance, or his subtle chuckles. He didn’t bring you little trinkets, or get to see the way you could finally use the fucking solid-gold wrench--

He was gone. Like a blip in the stars, meshed in with all of the hundreds of billions of beings that lay beyond your tiny, desolate planet. You didn’t know if he was alive or dead, and stars, your nights were left sleepless; staring at your ceiling, not being able to hold back the tears of the fear and the worry and the fucking pain that bombarded you without the stability of his frequent visits.

As much as you tried to block him out, he plagued you. You saw the glint of his Beskar whenever you strode through the market, the swoosh of him unsheathing his blaster when you heard gunshots at night. You scrubbed at your greasy and sand grated skin in the fresher every evening, trying desperately to forget the way his hands had wrapped around your forearms, your fingers, or the way his cape whipped at you subtly whenever you strode next to each other.

You were foolish to ever find hope within his visits. You were foolish to feel this way about a faceless man, a fucking Mandalorian, a goddamn bounty hunter, who you’d only seen every so often over the course of seven months. You counted the times you’d actually met him on your fingers; twelve. Twelve fucking times.

And you were all but dying at the thought of him never coming back.

There was a time when you believed that he might ask you to go with him. It entered your mind one night, after he’d brought you back that dried flower so many months before. Stars, you all but gushed when he’d given it to you, not knowing how or where to place yourself.

And once again-- he’d taken time to converse with you about the job you’d done fixing the Crest; how you had a mechanic touch that he’d never seen, how he had no idea how you made it all look so new and seamless-- so you.

“So... you,” He’d muttered, before tilting his helmet in your direction. He nodded once upon seeing you were lost for words, before depositing a hand on your lower back and slowly pushing you forward, towards another part of the ship.

You could have punched yourself then, as you fisted your hair in an attempt to shut your brain down. It’d been three months, three entire months without seeing him, without knowing if he was alive or dead, and you were clutching at straws as you tried to stay sane. 

The tears came then, thick and fast as you tried desperately to expel your hurt about him just leaving like that; not asking you to go with him, not coming back for you, not caring at all. 

Well, he is a Mandalorian. 

Yes, he is. 

Peli had definitely noticed your slump, as soon as you’d realised he wasn’t coming back. As much as she teased him, she was fond of Mando all the same. Any attempt she gave to sooth you only fell flat, as you all but rejected her support in favour of simply overworking yourself into the ground, until your fingers bled and your palms were worn away, like you’d been wiping them on sandpaper for three months straight. 

Just as it was starting to ease, as the hole in heart was starting to heal after so long-- almost a fucking year-- the spluttering engines of the Razor Crest descended upon Peli’s bay on Tatooine. 

You ceased to breathe, staying in your quarters as you watched it hit the ground, as your limbs all but stopped working. Peli shot you a saddened look, before wiping her hands of grease and approaching the ramp of the ship while you stayed back, watching from afar. 

When he stepped out, your eyes overflowed. There he was; all glinting Beskar and stoic stances and silent words. Peli conversed with him quietly, sending glances towards you in your quarters, subtly breaking down as not knowing what the fuck to do--

Until you pulled yourself together. As much as you wanted to bombard him, to hug him, to tell him how much you missed him; you felt betrayed. You felt abandoned, and stars, what a foolish thing to feel for a mechanic on Tatooine. No family, no close friends besides your boss, imagining a life with a murderous Mandalorian. Bullshit. 

You wiped away your tears, striding out of your quarters as you shot daggers at Mando, wiping your hands aggressively upon your overalls. Mando and Peli stopped speaking when you approached them, brows stern, frown donned, hurt raging beneath your skin. 

“Damage to the left of the hull,” You spoke up. “Right engine is on its last legs, and I can already tell that the hydraulics are shot to shit,” 

“You--,” Mando began, letting the shock of seeing you again consume you. “You’re still here,” You could have fucking laughed, or cried. 

Yes, I’m still here. Because you didn’t take me with you. 

“Where else would I fucking be?” It was the first time you’d sworn in front of him, besides the odd kriff. It was only a indication of your seething anger, and Mando immediately took a small step back. You could tell he was gulping beneath his helmet. You could tell he was feeling your stare.

“No droids, I know,” You let out, before you pushed past him intentionally, making your way inside the Crest to start working. 

You worked tirelessly, ignoring the way Mando and Peli caught up after his many months away, ignoring the way Mando slowly walked back into his ship after popping into town. With every thud of his boots, you bit harder on the screwdriver placed between your teeth, focusing solely on fixing the inner hydraulics while the days heat was at its worst. 

Mando dropped himself down in the hull, on top of an old box of supplies. His stare burned into the back of your neck, making your hairs stand on end immediately. He didn’t let up, overseeing the muscles beneath your shirt as you reached to tie a cable or screw a nail back in place. 

Stars, it was getting to you now-- until you snapped. 

“What?” You let out abruptly, turning to look at him from your knelt position. He was silent after your outburst, until the fucker had the audacity to laugh. He let out a single modulated chuckle, and stars, you didn’t fucking like it. 

You scoffed, biting down on your lip while you went back to working. Your fingers were trembling now, though, as his stare was becoming unbearable. 

“Your hair grew,” He said quietly. Your heart catapulted into your throat. You stopped moving completely, not knowing what the fuck to say, or do. “It has been a while, hasn’t it?”

You clamped your eyes shut, feeling the overwhelming sensation to start crying again. You knew he could see right through you, could see the way your shoulders were slowly starting to shake and convulse as you tried not to overflow. 

“A year,” Was all you could let out. And it was pathetic. Fluttering into the air as you pushed the sadness to the back of your throat, your voice sounded weak. It sounded stupid. 

You heard Mando rise, slowly walking over to where you knelt on the floor, feet jutting from your bottom, overalls tied at your waist and tank top soaked through with sweat. He lowered himself to your level, and stars, when he reached out to grab your chin and direct your eyes to his visor, you burst--

The tears came thick and fast, covering your entire face as you wept into his large gloved palm. He didn’t move, bar pulling you closer to him as you let out aching, wracking sobs. He was utterly silent, and you wondered if he was trying not to let out his own sadness. 

“I thought you were dead,” You finally let out, as your tears cascaded to the hull of the Crest. “I thought you were fucking dead, Mando--,”

“I know,” He said in reply, through clenched teeth. Stars, he was torn up. Just as torn up as you. “I couldn’t come back. I couldn’t put you and Peli in that amount of danger,” You looked to his visor, searching desperately for his eyes, despite knowing it was useless.

“What happened?” You asked, and Mando’s grip on you tightened. He brought his other hand to rest upon your thigh, squeezing it as the tears continued to fall down your face. He gulped sadly beneath his helmet, but you saw the pain he felt in the way his head tilted to the floor. 

“Things got complicated. I couldn’t come back and risk you--,” He stopped to let out a shaky breath. “Risk you being in the firing line of my rash choices,” 

You let out another sob, clamping your eyes shut as you tried to calm yourself down. Mando only waited; he waited with you, one hand securely on your thigh and the other cradling your cheek in his palm. You swiped your hand up to his wrist, clutching on for dear life as your fingers snagged upon the fabric of his gloves, revealing the tiniest section of his actual skin. 

Mando audibly hissed, but he didn’t move. He was frozen in place, reeling from a simple touch of your finger against his bare skin. 

“I’m glad you’re not dead,” You let out quietly, as the last of your tears dried. “I’ve missed you, Mando,” You said confidently, simply relishing in the fact that you were talking to him again after so long. The hope of him taking you with him had been just a dream; something constructed to give you a small break from the reality of your life. You wouldn’t indulge in it any longer. 

“I... I was planning on asking you something, way back then,” He said tentatively. “Before shit hit the fan,” He let out a forced chuckle, and stars, he was nervous. This was the first time you’d ever heard him be this way, this open, this tentative. 

Your face softened, as he took a few seconds to collect himself, pushing the words out in his classic modulated drawl--

“Come with me,” 

With those three words, your body set alight--

But this time, it wasn’t from the Tatooine heat.

Oh, OP. Thank you for this. I indulged. I loved writing this. THANK YOU!

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[secretsappyabode]

“Are you alright?”

Ford’s voice startles me as I snap out of my trance. I tell him it’s just homesickness and look away before he can look closer at the expression on my face. Suddenly these large trees seem very interesting to me. He’s trying to look at me. I can tell as he calls my name softly. Damn it, these things shouldn’t be breaking me so easily. It’s just one of those days. It’s okay, really. “But it isn’t. Please, Tiff, don’t lie to me.” Well, that sure made a large dent in the dam, didn’t it? Maybe it was the way his voice sounded so small, so soft, almost begging. Or maybe it was him gingerly placing a hand near my wrist, a direct invite to hold my hand. Either way, things start looking blurry and my face feels hot. It’s nothing. My voice cracks so hard, it echoes through the silent forest. Well, so much for keeping it hidden. No point holding back now. 

But how do I explain this to him? It’s not just the homesickness. It’s the guilt of never returning. Of leaving heartbroken souls and burdening them further. I never belonged here. My family doesn’t exist here. Everyone has someone to turn to, someone to connect with. Everyone has a family. I’m all alone. No connections, no relatives, no bonds forged with blood or history. Everything about me starts and ends with me. No end, and no beginning. Sure I make friends, but its not the same. It doesn’t compare to what everyone else has here.  I’m still not looking at him when I let out a shuddery breath and explain that I’m hurt. That this pain was something I’ve been holding on to because I didn’t know how to explain it all. Maybe someday I’ll put it into the right words. I just didn’t know how to approach him about it, so I never mentioned it. There was an irrational fear that he would get annoyed or mad at me. “This whole time?...” I turn and I see he’s not annoyed or mad at all. He’s the most concerned that I’ve ever seen him be. I’m so relieved that the tears come full force.  “Why on earth would I be mad at you for something like that? I could never fault you for grieving what you’re missing.” He takes my hand, gentle but gives a firm squeeze. I feel a similar sensation in my chest. “I...I know I may seem brash at times, often a bit immune to social cues. But I can assure you, you can always confide in me. You don’t deserve to be suffering in silence.” Ford takes both my hands and his eyes bore into mine. “You can tell me anything you want. If you need anything from me, an ear, a shoulder to cry on, a hug, anything at all, just ask me! I will absolutely and happily give it to you. Loneliness can be a heavy, desolate thing, my dear.” He wipes a tear and cups the side of my face. “Please, don’t hide yourself away from me. You shouldn’t have to be this ‘happy-go-lucky’ person all of the time. I want to see you, all of you.”  Dang ‘nabbit, him being sweet definitely wasn’t helping the tears. The lump in my throat hurts too much and all I can mutter out is ‘a hug.’ Ford wraps his arms around me and holds me close, rubbing circles on my back. We stay like that for a few minutes as I calm down, the slow rise and fall from his chest soothes me into a similar pattern. I mutter a thank you, hoping he senses the amount or gratitude in my voice. This really helps me, close contact and affection that is.  “I shall definitely keep that in mind!” His voice is back to its original perk, but it clears out the rest of the funk that clouded my mind. I smile, and it feels like I haven’t done so in ages.  “Good to see that face again!” He smiles back. Ah geez...why is it that whenever I get positive attention like this, I feel so embarrassed? I feel my face flush up again, at least this time it’s from a better feeling. Hopefully he hasn’t noticed though.  “Shall we keep going? With the mission, that is.” Ford offers a hand, to which I gladly take. Only if we keep holding hands like this.  “I suppose, for better mental stability in the workplace, we should make this a common occurrence, hm?” 

Well, I’m definitely not complaining. I let out a chuckle as we walk onwards through the forest, and I feel him squeeze my hand again.