#outsider pov so technically it's an oc??

[lloydskywalkers]

Imperium's Worst-Compensated Wage Worker

Or the perils of minimum wage, brought to you by the Good Empress Beatrix. (fighting writer's block with this admittedly silly and very much non-canon oneshot. like it could technically happen around season one? if the writers acknowledged the oni/dragon thing again? but in the meantime i thought it'd be funny.)

Not that Dyne’s opinion has any genuine bearing upon the Good Empress Beatrix’s decisions, much less Dr. LaRow’s often intense (and as he’s recently learned, morally bankrupt) dedication to powering Imperium, but the latest dragon they’ve hauled into the lab is…strange. 

Primarily because it is not, in fact, a dragon. 

“Oh, it’s a dragon alright,” Dr. LaRow says. “Well, partly. You should take the time to dig into Ninjago’s myths and history, if you have the chance, it’s all very fascinating. The genealogy alone is a mess.”

The dragon(?) makes a dry sound. Dyne risks glancing at the figure imprisoned in the golden barrier. They look rather bored, all things considered. You’d almost think that they were the one observing an imprisoned Dr. LaRow, instead of the other way around.

They also look nothing like a dragon. 

“Isn’t that right?” Dr. LaRow grins at the figure. “You’ll have to tell me about this supposed Oni part of your heritage. Your history books are fairly uninformative. That is, if you’re able to talk after I’ve started draining you.”

The prisoner simply smiles back, their teeth a little too sharp to be normal. Dyne feels his skin crawl as unnaturally green eyes rove over the lab. They land on him for only a beat, but it’s long enough to leave Dyne feel like he’s been lasered through. 

He feels he should probably give Dr. LaRow’s “not human” diagnosis a bit more credit. 

Unfortunately, Dyne also has the sinking feeling that Dr. LaRow is messing with something she absolutely, a hundred percent, should not be. Like those terrible movies his friend used to screen in private, where the witless explorers ignore every warning and awake an ancient evil that melts the flesh from their faces. 

That’s what those eyes feel like — a flesh-melting stare of green. 

“You could always save me the trouble and start talking now.” Dr. LaRow makes a mockery of knocking her fist against the barrier. “Did you bite your tongue? You were so loud when they brought you in.”

The person — dragon, dragon, he needs this job — stares at the ceiling long-sufferingly. 

“Hm.” Dr. LaRow clicks her tongue. “We’ll see how quiet you are after we start taking that power of yours.”

That one’s enough to prompt Dyne to speak up. He’s been having enough of a crisis over the reality that they drain living dragons down here. Draining the drag— alright, prisoner — is an entirely new crisis just waiting for him.

“Excuse me, great Dr. LaRow,” he says, sweating. “The prisoner — are we sure it’s safe to drain it like we do the dragons? They aren’t exactly…the same.”

“Safe?” Dr. LaRow’s eyebrows shoot up. “Tell me, guard. Are you here to ask questions?”

Dyne wisely holds his tongue. Dr. LaRow nods in satisfaction. 

“It’s a dragon, alright. My energy sensors are never wrong!”

Dyne wants to question if her sensors might have a bad day every once in a while, but he also likes living in relative peace. 

It simply doesn’t make sense. The prisoner doesn’t look a thing like the other dragons. Of course, they also don’t look entirely human, features too-sharp and eyes too-bright, but the tousled blond hair and tanned skin, now darkened in blood and bruises from the scuffle, could pass for any other Imperium citizen. 

There’s also a distinct lack of wings, or scales, or actual draconic characteristics of any sort. 

“And they tell me there’s quite a bit we can get out of you,” Dr. LaRow tells the prisoner.

The prisoner’s brow furrows, the action pulling at the bruising gash at their right temple enough that a new stream of blood traces down their cheek. Their expression twitches, but they continue to hold Dr. LaRow’s stare. 

“I think I’ll enjoy this,” Dr. LaRow grins widely. 

_____

As they reach the twenty-four hour mark since the prisoner’s capture, Dr. LaRow is most certainly not enjoying this. 

“—unbelievable, what useless imp decided to short out the entire draining system, the wiring’s in shambles—”

Dyne watches as Dr. LaRow storms around the lab, fuming as she tosses through tools. He holds his blaster close to his chest, as if it will protect both him and his job from her wrath.

From the corner of his eye, he can spot a disturbingly smug grin creeping up the prisoner’s face. Dyne wonders if it was less a useless imp who shorted out the wiring and more a supposed dragon. 

He’s also elected to abandon calling them a dragon altogether. He’s likely to start laughing if he does, and Dyne is clinging to his sanity enough as it is. 

Dr. LaRow finally slams her fist against the control panel, cursing. With a look as if someone’s made her swallow a lemon, she keys in a complicated string of numbers on the control panel, the barrier around the prisoner shuddering as the floor creaks. The prisoner looks mildly concerned, but as it ends as soon as it began, they retreat to their look of utter apathy once again. 

“It’s your lucky day,” she grits out at the prisoner. “Looks like we’ll give you some time to catch your breath before we draining you.”

The prisoner simply crosses their legs, clasping their hands in their lap as they stare at the ceiling.

“In the meantime,” Dr. LaRow huffs, swiping at her data pad. “I may as well get what I can out of you. I’m not as used to working with subjects who can talk back, so this is an interesting experience for us both.”

The prisoner says nothing, their eyes glazing over as they continue staring at the ceiling, as if Dr. LaRow’s existence is as interesting as dirt. Dyne has to applaud their nerve — Dr. LaRow looks as if she’s about to pop a vein.

“You know, while I was researching your backwater realm’s history, I came across a good deal about a Green Ninja,” she tries. “I suppose it’d be an obvious assumption, simply because you prefer one color. But I do wonder.”

“If you’ve stuck me in here for being part-dragon,” the prisoner finally sighs. “You probably know enough.” 

“So you admit it,” Dr. LaRow smiles in triumph. “You’re one of your realm’s guardians. The lead one, if I’m correct.”

The prisoner’s eyes roll briefly back in their head, and they return to saying nothing. 

Dr. LaRow grits her teeth, smile growing tight. “Such a fun little color-coded group. When you run dry, I’ll move onto them next. I can start with the blue one, or the red one—”

“Don’t.” The prisoner’s voice cracks across the lab, louder and colder than anything else they’ve said. For the first time since the guards dragged them in, a truly vicious anger burns in their eyes. “Don’t you dare touch them.”

“Hmm, is that a sore spot?” Dr. LaRow seems thrilled, typing at her pad. “Interesting, interesting.”

The prisoner bares their teeth, looking for the first time somewhat like the dragon they’re supposed to be. And perhaps Dyne is just overtired, or he’s bought a little too much into the myths from Ninjago Dr. LaRow’s been having them all comb through, but the lab suddenly feels much smaller, as if the air’s being compressed. His skin prickles, hair standing on end again, and his flight or fight reaction kicks up about twenty notches. 

If Dyne didn’t know that running would probably end in Dr. LaRow feeding him to an actual dragon to silence him, he’d be booking it out of the lab already.

The prisoner glares at Dr. LaRow for a moment longer, eyes turning a violent green — then they jerk back, expression contorting. Dyne lets out a quiet, shaky breath as he finds himself breathing easy again. 

Dr. LaRow smirks as the prisoner glares at the shimmering floor beneath their feet in consternation, the clinical metal pulling back to reveal ugly, roughly-constructed black stone shot through with streaks of yellow. 

“I was hoping that dealer wasn’t upselling me,” she says, tapping at her data pad cheerfully. “That stone cost us quite a bit.”

A string of muttered curses escapes the prisoner’s mouth. 

“—do people keep getting their hands on this like it’s buy-one-get-one-free at the mall, it isn’t that common—”

“Though it will be annoying,” Dr. LaRow’s expression sours again. “Having to admit that Rapton scrounged up something useful for once.”

As the prisoner now looks like they’re planning a particularly violent list of future murders in their head, Dyne takes a careful, measured step back and tries to pretend he’s invisible. 

_____

Dyne considers himself a decent person. Most times, he sleeps just fine at night with the knowledge that he’s done his best to live a moral and upstanding life as a good citizen under the Good Empress Beatrix. 

And until now, he’s been perfectly content in his position as a guard of Imperium. Helping safeguard their great empire and its citizens is a noble duty, one he takes great pride in. 

This was all before he got moved down to the labs for being “a remarkably wise and clearheaded individual” — which he’s now learned is code for “knows how to keep his mouth shut”. 

Three days in to the new position, and two days into having taken what’s definitely not a dragon in for draining, all of that is crashing down around his head.

“There we go,” Dr. LaRow adjusts her glasses, smiling as the row of monitors flicker back to life. “All back online and ready to go. I should probably invest in more of that stone, just in case…”

The prisoner shoots her a particularly rude gesture from behind the glowing barrier. They look a little worse for wear today, the bruising at their temple having turned an ugly, mottled purple. The dark circles beneath their eyes nearly match it shade for shade, and a portion of their blond hair is crusted with dried blood. 

It must hurt, though you’d never know it, from the prisoner’s increasingly heated glares.

Dyne swallows. He knows very well that forcibly draining the life force out of any being is bad. He knows it’s even worse to stand by and watch the life force get drained out of a person who’s noticeably younger than he is.

He also knows that he’s going to end up with Dr. LaRow’s socket wrench through his skull if he tries to protest. Which leaves him at a bit of an impasse. 

“You’re making a mistake,” the prisoner speaks up quietly, as Dr. LaRow preps the system.

“Oh, I really don’t think I am,” she says. “You’re going to help me power Imperium for the better, you know? Well, I suppose you wouldn’t know too much about all this, coming from a backwater realm like you do.”

“What, this?” The prisoner waves their hand at the glowing barrier. “No, no, I’m familiar. Been there, done that. Last time I was in an exploding plane, it was a lot more exciting.”

Dyne’s eyebrows shoot up despite himself. As if sensing his curiosity, the prisoner’s eyes flick to him, their mouth twitching. 

Dr. LaRow makes an irritated sound. 

“Keep an eye on it, alright? I need you to make sure it doesn’t keel over dead or anything,” Dr. LaRow instructs him, acknowledging to Dyne for the first time in…well. Perhaps it’s better if he doesn’t think about that.

Sanity hanging on by a thread, and all.

“You could at least say keep an eye on him,” the prisoner mutters. “I am a person. With a name, if anyone cares.”

They — he, Dyne corrects, because he does have some semblance of a conscience — looks irritated, but in a very exhausted way, as if he’s been in this particular situation enough times to find it boring. 

Dr. LaRow smiles tightly. “Let’s see how that nerve of yours holds up now, shall we?” She twists the dial with a savage kind of enthusiasm.

To his credit, the prisoner manages to mask any reaction as first, only tensing up as the golden barriers surge to life. He’s bitten his lip, but otherwise he seems just as unruffled as he’s been.

Then Dr. LaRow triples the intensity, and the prisoner crumples forward, barely catching himself on his hands as he shudders in pain. 

“Oh, not cool,” he wheezes, fingernails digging into the floor. “Ow, hell—”

“There we go,” Dr. LaRow says, her glasses glinting in the golden light as she studies the readings gleefully. “See that, mildly competent guard? It’s as dragon as they get. We can power a whole block with this!”

“Wonderful,” the prisoner rasps, fingernails now biting into his arms as he steels himself against the obvious pain. “Getting used as — a literal battery — no-ow, ow, ow. Powering — small kitchen appliances — that’s me.” 

Dr. LaRow clicks her tongue. “I don’t suppose you’d want to rate your discomfort on a scale from one to ten?” she says sweetly. “It’s important that all my subjects feel they have a voice.”

“Two — out of ten,” the prisoner gasps. “Overlord — did it better. Get on his — level, and we’ll talk.”

“Overlord,” Dr. LaRow says, tapping at her data pad. “I’ll have to track him down next.”

Absently, she twists the dial a level higher. Dyne cringes. 

The prisoner bangs his head against the floor, his cursing muffled. 

“Hmm, we aren’t getting as much out of you now,” Dr. LaRow mutters, tapping at her data pad. “Maybe you have a lower limit than most dragons.”

“Hope you choke,” comes the seething response. “Gonna — bite you, when they…break me out…”

“Break you out? Our security is the most advanced in all the realms,” Dr. LaRow laughs. “We’re more than prepared for any threat that would try to free you.”

Despite the clear pain the prisoner’s in, his lips twitch.

“Not prepared for Nya,” he mutters, before cutting off in a strangled swear as Dr. LaRow ups the intensity yet another level. 

Dyne resist the urge to bury his face in his hands. 

Oh, he’s most certainly developing another six crises after this. 

He knew he should’ve just applied for garden maintenance.  

_____

A little over forty-eight hours in, Dyne decides he can only take so much without doing anything. 

Dr. LaRow went ahead and tossed the prisoner in one of the holding cells after draining what she could, called away by Empress Beatrix for what’s likely not anything good, and probably something incredibly destructive and morally bankrupt. 

She’s also neglected to give the prisoner any kind of hydration. If he were actually a dragon, this might not be as much of a problem, only two days in. But considering Dyne’s very logical assumption that he isn’t, it could prove a somewhat deadly problem. 

So with Dr. LaRow stuck catering to Empress Beatrix’s every whim for the rest of the day, Dyne feels somewhat confident in his decision. 

One water bottle never led to an entire prison break, did it? 

The prisoner stares at the bottle Dyne’s shoved through the barrier opening, brow furrowed.

“It’s not poisoned,” Dyne says, quickly. “Or drugged, or anything. I wouldn’t — that’d be stupid.”

The prisoner’s mouth quirks. 

“Thanks,” he says, taking the bottle. His voice is a little raspy, but much softer now that he isn’t violently cursing out Dr. LaRow. 

He proceeds to tear the top off and chug the entire thing. 

“I can, ah, bring more,” Dyne says, slightly horrified. “I should’ve grabbed another.”

“Mmh, no worries,” the prisoner says, polishing off the bottle. He glances at Dyne.  

 “I guess you probably couldn’t smuggle food in,” he says, visibly wilting and pretending he isn’t. 

Dyne shifts, at war with himself. 

Well, a packaged snack bar never led to an entire prison break either, did it?

“Oh, fank eff-ess-em.” The prisoner barely takes time to breathe as he devours the bar. “Owe you one for d’at.”

“It’s the least I can do,” Dyne says, before abruptly remembering he’s supposed to be an intimidating guard. It’s the prisoner’s fault, for acting so weirdly casual about being imprisoned. 

“Nah, people don’t really think about this part often,” the prisoner says. “They lock you up and assume you’ll just survive without eating or drinking anything. I mean, if you’re gonna rant about how you need my strength all day, at least make sure I have any, and I’m not like, a corpse by day six, you know?”

Dyne adds weirdly friendly toward obvious enemies to the list.

“Anyways, thank you,” the prisoner finishes off the last of the ration bar, looking far more at ease. “It must be a pain, working under that doctor all the time.”

“I am fortunate to have such a trusted position in the great workings of Imperium,” Dyne recites on instinct. “Helping Dr. LaRow detain prisoners such as yourself is a…it’s a…”

The prisoner raises an eyebrow. 

Dyne deflates. 

“Yeah, maybe work on your elevator pitch there.” 

“Apologies, prisoner.” 

“Y’know, I do have a name,” the prisoner sighs.

Dyne winces. “Oh, yes. Well, obviously. What…is it?”

He smirks. “I’ll tell you when I’m out of here.”

“Ah.” Dyne isn’t sure how to respond to that one.

“No offense, I just don’t know how much you know, and I don’t wanna risk it. I kinda have a bad track record with people out to get me.” 

“No, that’s…I don’t blame you,” Dyne says, staring at his boots. “Considering the situation.”

The bars between them loom dramatically. Dyne begins his seventh moral crisis. 

The prisoner eyes him, almost curious. The expression looks far more at ease on his face than the glares he’s been routinely sending Dr. LaRow’s way. It also makes him look a good deal younger, which does absolutely nothing for Dyne as he begins his eighth crisis of crippling guilt. 

“Hey,” the prisoner says. “Have you guys heard of Starfarer here?”

_____

At five in the morning on day four, Dyne finds himself listening intently as the prisoner tells him about the time a realm came to life as an eldritch tentacle monster of doom and tried to swallow Ninjago — or something like that, the prisoner keeps getting fairly heated talking about this one, so the finer details are lost — when they’re interrupted by the distant, muffled sound of an explosion. 

Dyne goes tense, grabbing for his blaster. His first thought is that it’s simply Dr. LaRow having a mid-morning experiential mishap, as those are fairly normal.

The screeching alarm that goes off, followed by the distinct sound of screaming, dashes those hopes. 

“Are we under attack?” Dyne mutters faintly. “No one attacks Imperium.”

The prisoner smiles, stretching back in the cell. “Tell that to Kai.”

“Who is Kai?”

“Don’t worry about it,” the prisoner waves his hand. “Just stay back near me, okay? Definitely clear of the doors. And uh, try not to look like you had a big part in this.”

“But I did have a big part of this,” Dyne says, weakly.

The prisoner shrugs. “Those snack bars were killer. You can have a pass.”

“I don’t think I—”

“You sneaking, underhanded little animal!”

Dr. LaRow bursts into the lab, glasses askew and hair a frizzled mess. She jabs her finger toward the prisoner, seething. “You led them right to us!”

“Hey, animal kinda crosses a line,” the prisoner frowns. 

“How did you contact them!” She bangs her fist against the barrier. “How did you let them in!”

“I didn’t do anything,” the prisoner says. “I’ve been sitting here, nice and behaved, in this stupid cell.”

“Then how—”

Another explosion rocks the building, this one much closer. 

The prisoner cups his chin in his hand, grinning at Dr. LaRow. “Say, when you were doing all that research on me,” he says. “You didn’t happen to dig any deeper into the other, highly powerful ninja, did you?”

“Of course I did,” she snaps. “And I’ll be sure to drain them dry once I’ve disposed of you.”

“Uh-huh.” The prisoner looks entirely unconcerned. “You didn’t study enough, I guess.” 

The doors slide open with a hiss, and an Imperium guard enters the lab. 

A completely normal event on any given day, save for several noticeable things. For starters, there’s no reason for a guard of that level to be entering the cell area, unless Dr. LaRow had signaled an emergency — which is most certainly happening outside the lab, but not inside it.

That, or Dyne’s being replaced. Which he’s heard nothing about.

For another, the guard moves with far more purpose than any other guard he’s seen, taking decisive strides toward them with an intensity that rings alarm bells in Dyne’s head.

And for a final thing, with little decorum, the guard proceeds to freeze the doors shut solid, freeze the security cameras, and freeze Dr. LaRow’s feet firmly to the ground. 

In a panic, Dyne brings his blaster up, only to be halted by a sharp look from the prisoner. 

“Don’t,” he says. “You’ll lose.” 

As the guard shimmers, the black and golds of the Imperium armor melting away to reveal the snow white of a ninja gi, Dyne drops his blaster and takes a step back. 

He enjoys living immensely. That’s all. 

“Zane,” the prisoner breathes, his expression collapsing in relief. 

“I apologize for the delay,” the white ninja says, his own face creased in worry as he maneuvers past a frothing Dr. LaRow, who’s tugging furiously at her frozen shoes. “We were waylaid by Imperium’s forces.”

The prisoner shakes his head. “Is everyone alright?”

“That is a far better question for you,” the white ninja says, tapping something on the control pad. The golden barrier sparks, then erodes entirely away. “But no one was harmed. I simply determined that I alone would be most efficient choice to rescue you, as any efforts from Kai or Nya were likely to end in significant attention and potential loss of life.”

The prisoner stumbles forward the minute the barrier vanishes, all but collapsing against the white ninja, who moves even quicker to catch him. 

“Watch out, the floor in there’s Vengestone,” he mutters. 

“Your head is bleeding.” The white ninja’s hand flutters at the prisoner’s temple, his other hand wrapped firmly around his back.  

“S’not that bad.”

“You’re severely exhausted and your blood sugar levels are alarmingly low,” the ninja continues, voice growing colder. 

“Zane.”

“You’ve bitten through your lip again. And—”

“Zane. Not here.”

There’s a tight sigh. 

“You are also in dire need of a shower.”

“Rude,” the prisoner scowls. “You try living in a cage and coming out with great hair.”

 “—why haven’t you shot them already, you useless imbecile—!”

Dyne takes a leaf from the ninja’s book and tunes Dr. LaRow out entirely. 

“Um, I don’t mean to interrupt,” he says, quietly. “But we should probably move if the building’s exploding?”

“The building is in no danger,” the white ninja says, still fussing over the prisoner’s head. “We would never put Lloyd’s safety at risk like that.”

“Remember that next training session,” the prisoner snorts. “I’m guessing the explosions are Kai?”

“He’s incinerating their forces in what could be generously called a diversion,” the white ninja says, lips twitching. “Arin and Sora were enthusiastic about helping.”

“Of course they were.” 

 The prisoner pulls back, wobbling briefly on his feet as he brushes imaginary dirt from his gi and stretches. 

“Don’t hurt that one,” he nods in Dyne’s direction. “He’s pretty chill.”

The white ninja’s glare could freeze him dead. “He was guarding you. He helped them torture you.”

“That’s a little dramatic,” the prisoner frowns. “They were just trying to drain my power again.”

“Which still counts as torture.”

“Technically, it’s like, wildly unethical capitalism?”

 Their conversation is interrupted as a wrench comes hurtling toward their heads. The white ninja bats it away as if it were a mere fly. 

Dr. LaRow, now down her shoes and having made a mad dash for the elevator, looks possibly more furious than the time an intern spilled coffee on her favorite lab coat. 

The transparent elevator doors slide closed just in time to block the sharp projectile of ice that would’ve likely taken her head off. 

“You know what? Good riddance,” Dr. LaRow spits, already keying in the security code. “That thing isn’t worth the trouble.”

The white ninja’s expression turns flat. “That thing has a name, and he happens to be worth far more than—”

“Zane,” the prisoner murmurs. 

The white ninja cuts off with a huff. The ice forming at his hand sputters out as the elevator drops, taking Dr. LaRow with it. 

“Kai instructed me to punch the face in of whoever took your captive,” he says, disappointed. “I would’ve liked to fulfill that particular request.”

 “I’m sure we’ll get another chance.” The prisoner — now a prisoner no longer, come to think of it — turns to stare at Dyne with too-green eyes, and he feels a bit as if someone’s drilling through his head again. 

“My name, by the way,” he says. “Is Lloyd.”

Raisin a trembling hand, he waves, replying, “Dyne.”

Lloyd’s mouth pulls in a half-smile, then he jerks his head. “I’d clear out if I were you,” he says. “I don’t think LaRow’s caught up on what happens when you use energy that’s heavily Oni-contaminated in a system built for dragons.”

Dyne blinks. The white ninja looks concerned. “What do you mean?”

“Well, considering you’re looking at power from two totally opposite beings who exist to fight each other—”

“That was not what I meant, I was referring to the implications they actually drained your energy successfully, which should not be—”

“—if you try to use both energies at once, I don’t think it’s gonna—”

The lights flicker. Before any of them can react, the room rocks dangerously, sending Dyne sprawling as an explosion goes off with a shattering screech a few rooms over. 

“—turn out too well,” Lloyd finishes, weakly. 

_____

In the end, Dyne finds himself following Lloyd and the other ninja out of the labs. He then quickly finds himself socked in the face by a grappling hook, and narrowly avoiding the furious fists of a pink-haired girl that looks vaguely familiar.

“I got him! Did’ja see that?”

“Lemme go, we’ve gotta avenge Lloyd—”

“Lloyd requested that he not be harmed, Sora,” the white ninja sighs, holding back the seething girl. 

“That was a nice hit, though,” Lloyd says, smiling at the dark-haired boy responsible for the bruise forming on Dyne’s face. “You’re getting better at quick reactions.”

The boy’s smile dims as he takes in the now-spectacular mess of green and yellow bruising on Lloyd’s face. 

“Kai’s gonna murder some people, I think.”

“Yeah, on that note,” Lloyd glances at Dyne, giving him a rueful smile. “You probably want to get out of here. For your own good, and all.”

Dyne opens his mouth, only to yelp as something else in the lab behind them explodes. 

“And, uh, sorry for losing you your job?” Lloyd makes a face. “Next time, maybe go for something a little less…”

“Morally corrupt? Totally evil? Cruel and inhumane?”

“He gets it, Sora,” Lloyd sighs. 

“We will be leaving now,” the white ninja cuts in, eyes narrowed on the growing crowd of Imperium guards a street over. “If we’re to pick up Kai and Wyldfyre before we leave, we’d better be quick.”

“Got it.” Lloyd gives Dyne a final, bright smile. “Thanks for the snacks! Good luck on the job hunt.”

The pink-haired girl glares daggers at him, while the dark-haired boy makes a very obvious we’re watching you gesture with his fingers. 

“Enjoy your life,” the white ninja says. “Please keep in mind that you only kept it thanks to Lloyd.”

And with that ominous statement, the ninja take off running. 

As he watches them disappear, Dyne carefully removes his Imperium-issued helmet, and lets out a long, shaky sigh. 

Maybe there’s a job opening in the Realm of Madness. 

He’ll bet they don’t require eight-page resumés there. 

[lya-dustin]

Vengeance is Mine

For @maidmerrymint

Very loosely based on Pasión the telenovela by Televisa and will be a series

Technically oc but written as a reader's pov

Cw: death, drama, pirate au, manipulation, revenge

7/17/24: so i know i said this would be a series but idk its just not letting me continue it. Probably because Aemond is no Ricardo de Salamanca and I don't really like damsels in distress. If one of yall wants to finish or make something with it, feel free to ask.

He is not the boy he was four years ago.

Aemond had lost control of Vhagar, and she had eaten Lucerys Velaryon over Shipwreck Bay and began the bloodiest war since the Conquest. In the ensuing chaos Aegon was killed by Rhaenys at Rook’s Rest and Aemond banished from Westeros on the penalty of death.

It was only because of you that he was spared his life.

Vhagar had not survived long after Aemond the Kinslayer proved his mettle as mercenary and led him to be forced into joining a pirate’s crew to survive. Now he was the Valyrian, Captain of the Mother’s Sorrows.

His mother blames you for their misfortunes most of all.

Had you not existed Ormund Hightower wouldn’t have betrayed them, had you not existed he would have Vhagar and burn down her enemies to something lower than ash and Aegon would still be alive as King. You had no child from Lyonel Hightower even as his stepmother whelped bastard after bastard, mother claims you have poisoned your own womb to ensure Jacaerys became king.

Alicent’s anger had turned to madness from the grief, he had seen. Though he could not blame his mother for losing her sanity after seeing her father and son’s heads be paraded about the city with her in chains of gold behind them.

She was dying, Helaena had written days ago.

Winter Fever had swept into Westeros and just when it seemed to have died down, Mother had contracted it from her Septas in the motherhouse by the sea she has been locked in since Aegon’s reign fell before its six-moon mark.

Aemond knows it is a death sentence for him to see her, but he just needed to see her. just once more to say goodbye.

And he does, the Matron of the motherhouse smuggles him in as Osferthe, a dragonseed turned Septon, in case anyone catches a glimpse of his silvery hair.

“My son! my sweet boy, have you come to me at last?” His mother is drenched in sweat, skin flushed with fever and despite the ice in her bath, she is hot as dragon’s breath.

“Yes, mother, I have come to see you. You are on your fourth day and all will be well again,” he swallows back the grief of knowing she will not live to see the dusk turn to day outside of her window.

She is kept as a lady of her status; Rhaenyra had not been the tyrant he had been told she’d be after Luke took his eye. She is wary of them but has not handed them to the executioners or the confessors.

Helaena is happy with her husband who dotes on her three children as if they were his and has a daughter, little Daenaera, who their mother has gone as far as to call a bastard. Daeron, their brother, had wed Rhaena of Pentos after being knighted by Rhaenyra a king would have done. They had fared well, better than him in any case.

“My sweet boy, do not lie to me. I know it won’t be long before I join my mother and father and your sweet brother in the seven heavens.” She tries to reach out to touch him beyond the thin curtain of her bed, but she is too ill to even lift her bone thin arm. She had taken to fasting until he came home once and for all, it was why the illness had become fatal to her. “I want you to promise me something so I may rest easy, my love.”

“Anything you ask I will do, mother.” Against the Septa’s warnings he moves aside the curtain and takes her hands, not caring he would sicken and die as she will.

“I want you to ruin her. I want you to avenge us against her no matter how it is done. For me, for your brother.” She whispers her last request just as her body is wracked by a seizure.

“I promise you I will not rest until it is done.” Aemond the Kinslayer vows as his mother’s convulsions end the Queen in Chains.

His mother has yet to be buried in Kingslanding when the Gods show him revenge is what they need from him.

You had been beset by slavers when traveling from Kingslanding to Oldtown by ship because your husband didn’t want to be emasculated by your dragon nor was travelling by road a possibility. Amid the Daughters' War, Sharako Lohar had taken a gambit and paid for it with his life just as Lyonel did when his folly overrode all good sense.

Aemond did not give a shit about Westeros beyond Daeron Velaryon’s safety for Helaena’s sake, but he couldn’t get close to Rhaenyra unless he had a reason to be welcomed back. The Stepstones would have been a nice gift, but in you he had an even better thing to offer.

“Unhand me! I am Princess of Dragonstone and demand you return me to my mother!” you shout with as much authority a soaking wet girl shivering under a ratty woolen blanket can muster.

“Dear Aemee, is this how you thank your saviors?” he hasn’t called you that since he took your maidenhead the night his father died. Then he had loved you, and you were to be his wife and it wouldn’t even have mattered if there was a babe in your belly before your nuptials.

Now you were the widow of Lyonel Hightower as well as the Queen’s heir. Rhaenyra’s only legitimate child and only daughter. You were worth a kingdom, or in his case, a royal pardon.

And something far worse, the source of your mother’s ruin.

You are treated well, washed and dressed in the clothes found in a trunk stolen from your ship and given the Captain’s Cabin as ordered by Aemond.

Aemond who everyone believed dead three years past.

Aemond whom you had loved since the two of you were children.

Aemond who had murdered your little brother.

“I didn’t die with Vhagar that night, I was saved by pirates who put me to work like any other slave. I earned my freedom and my ship by proving my salt, as you Velaryons put it.” He is reserved in ways he was never with you, but he serves you watered down wine to settle the nerves you hide and even offers you food off his own plate, so you know it isn’t tainted.

“I am grateful to the Gods that they spared you, I feared Daemon had a hand in your murder, well, attempted murder.” You admit taking the mulled wine avoiding the staring he elicits in you.

He had changed, skin a golden tan, with the scruff of a fine beard on his chin and a hardness to him similar and yet unlike the one he had before this all happened.

“If he had, he would’ve succeeded, but alas it was my own overconfidence that did me in. You always said my arrogance knew no limits when you were cross with me.” Aemond joins you at his table, and stares at you to see how the last image of you compares to what he sees before him.

Last he saw you; you were a maid of six and ten begging your mother for his life. Dressed in mourning for your brother with your heart torn between the young man you loved and the fact he had killed Lucerys and been celebrated for it. But you had fallen to your knees and used the Courts favor for you to change her mind and banish him instead.

He was not allowed to see you after, not allowed to take anything save his weapons, some coin for lodgings and whatever Vhagar’s saddlebags had.

Alicent had been made to kiss your feet in thanks so he knew his mother’s life would be taken as well if he dared to rise against Rhaenyra.

The absolute loathing in the deposed queen’s face was something you could never forget.

You had not wanted that, but no one asks what you want anyways. If it pleased mother, she could disinherit you in favor of Jace and you would not be able to say anything about it.

“I am sorry for your loss, Aemond. I know how much you loved her.” You say knowing what had brought him to this side of the Narrow Sea.

“You know why I rescued you, don’t you.” He does not beat around the bush, and you nod knowing this was not done out of the goodness of his heart. He would buy himself safety to at least pay his respects to his mother or put an end to his exile.

“Mother would pay anything for us, the least she could do is allow you to say goodbye to your mother.” You know she would never end his exile; he had killed Luke in under a peace banner, but your life had to be worth something or else you know he would’ve let you die.

He nodded in agreement and the two of you supped in silence, you had not been fed since you were captured and almost forgot your manners to which he even smiled at the turn of events.

“Did you love him?” Aemond asks a question you had known would come. You could not simply forget a love that had been nurtured through a lifetime together, vows made in secret and a sense of belonging you could never find with anyone else.

“I prayed more often for the Stranger to take him than to change his heart.” You admit knowing he would not tell. “I would rather the throne went to Jace and his daughters than let his seed take root inside me.”

“I have to say widowhood suits you, Aemee.” He liked your candor going by the ghost of a smile on his lips.

“I must enjoy it while I can, mother will be hounding me to remarry and keep those vultures from circling about me.” You may as well had professed your love to him given you had only been with two men your entire life. But the two of you had as much chance of being together in this life as the Wall crumbling to the ground.

“I could help you with that, once you gain me a pardon.”

You shouldn’t agree to this, but you do. What other choice do you have? Aemond killed your brother and become a cold-blooded pirate whose reputation preceded him. He could toss you overboard or sell you like the pirates sold Johanna Swan.

“Tell her grace I will not release her daughter unless my terms are agreed.” The Valyrian orders his quartermaster to deliver his terms, along with proof that you and the others rescued were unharmed. He could not dock in Westeros until he was assured no arrests would be made the second, he entered their waters. “Be sure that the men you take with you spread their stories, Cole.”

For your alleged safety he shares his bed with you. He claims his men could betray him to ruin you and, as the prince he was raised to be, he sleeps beside you with his sword between the two of you. Even here in his hideaway in Essos, you are not let out of his presence.

By the time the two of you arrived here rumors had flown that you had celebrated Lyonel’s death with Aemond these past nights, his doing of course.

It was said that Rhaenyra had grown paranoid, that she had Lady Misery’s spies keep watch on everything you did as well. His half-sister would hear of how you shared Aemond’s bed and hardly left his side and believe you are the whore she is.

Rhaenyra will force moon tea down your throat like Viserys is said to have done to her and only he would be able to comfort you over the loss of your mother’s trust.

It would be easy.

You have always loved him; he could tell you the truth about what happened that night and you’d be the Aemma who would believe the moon was made of cheese if he said so.

You would hate him after, but he saved your life making the two of you even, so he no longer owes you anything.

“What will you do if she refuses?” You ask, hiding your fears well, but not good enough for him to be fooled by it. You could never fool him, he knew you better than you knew yourself, he’d wager.

You lay beside him, as the two of you used to do for so long. The sword removed by your own volition as he wormed his way back into your heart little by little. You have yet to give into your pining for him, but you will do it soon enough.

“I’d keep you until she gives in. I could never hurt you, silly girl.” He answered caressing your soft face with a calloused hand knowing you’d eat up his words like you always did.

You’d hate him after, even if he wed you and tied your claim to his when he usurps your mother, you would hate him for it.

But his mother would rest peacefully and that was all that mattered.

[twilight-skies]

A copy of my liveblog on discord through the entire DSMP portion of Jack’s stream. If you can’t watch it, this give you the gist, and every piece of lore.

Okay I’m ready

Jacks getting himself into lore mode

“Wiki updaters get ready. Play some jump in the cadillac”

Surreal

Okay he just got distracted by a tweet apparently rosanna pansino is siccing the FBI on mr beast

It’s happening

HES IN PANDORAS VAULT

elder guardian jumpscare

My god the last time I saw this room technoblade was streaming

Disclaimer I was not interested at all in jacks pov so I will not be understanding any references to his own lore. Manishroom. Appears to hold emotional weight

“Wonder where all my friends are (opens tab) ……..oh. Guess I’m here alone.”

“Legitimately emotional. God this is so fuckin’ stupid bro…..I actually got sad. Toby gave me this mushroom on [my] very first day [on the server]”

Calls joining the dsmp as the beginning of the career he has now (affectionately)

Does not know how he got in this prison or how to get out. Trying to remember Sam’s secrets /hj

HES CALLING TOMMY OJ THE PHONE FOR HELP. Tommy is in the bathroom

The phone at the mic. We’re truly back

Jack lost a bet to Tubbo (You Laugh, You Loose) and that’s why he’s on the server now

Surprised that it survives intact to this day. “So I’m actually uh. Trapped in the prison. And I think [Tommy] had OP— not to spoil the illusion”

Tommy never sucked up enough for OP. He was a true bad boy

“Fuck me, man” -Tommy realizing he’s gotta log on to the dsmp

“It’s like looking a dead child in the eyes” -tommy

“Yeah I expected to laugh at that dead child! And now here I am feeling real remorse” -jack

“Oh, christ…….” -tommy getting on

Jack very nearly leaked the dream smp IP in the year of our lord 2024

Tommy was in fact getting ready for bed and has been thrust back into the horrors of his OC

I can’t tell if this horrid audio lag is legit or intentional for lore. The dsmp streamers have returned to gaslighting— oh no it’s legit he’s trying to fix it lmao

Tommy does not have OP on the dsmp but Toby does

Jack is ringing toby

Toby is not picking up

Near leak number 2

TUBBO ACQUIRED

Toby is coming

The DSMP remains a viewer spawnrate hack

The prison has been broken for ages

TUBBO ONLINE

“Everyone’s logging on to break me outta the prison. I gotta put on my lore music”

He has initiated his lore music

Toby is experiencing technical difficulties

Best lore stream ever

Discussing the ending. Mixed feelings on it

This server is so laggy

It will not let Tubbo in

Jack is mortified at pinging the DSMP discord server. However he is threatening to dm badboyhalo to get out of this place

TUBBO LOST HIS OP

toby has departed.

Bad is busy. Jack is dming a secret server operator guy that he hasn’t talked to in years

“We can at this point only pray”

“Get Phil do it” -chat

Jack is refusing. I would die. WAIT HE IS

SECRET GUY PULLED THROUGH

HE HAS BEEN TELEPORTED

WE ARE BACK

Man. The random messes in the sky…..

“IT WAS COOL?!” Jack seeing Las Nevadas

The lag is insane

I’m not being dramatic this is literally the first time I’ve ever seen the inside of the casino

Tommy has rejoined

I think they’re entering lore mode

It’s begun

Jack has canonically been alone at the casino this entire time

“We can make it canon that I’ve been here the whole time” -jack

“Chat, L’Manburg doesn’t exist anymore. We can’t go back there. Now let’s win big” -jack

He has semi broken the roulette wheel. He freaks out, like man who’s lived his life in solitude at that table for years. He walks outside. He gasps,

“Is that…t-t-t-tommy?” -c!jack

c!tommy has arrived.

c!tommy is asking “seriously, what happened”

c!jack is having him fix the wheel

All Jack cares about is the wheel. You can practically hear Tommy. They (characters) are back

He’s following tommy somewhere

“I have a house. It’s nice.” -c!tommy

c!Jack knows he could just take the money but he’s been surviving off the thrill of gambling

c!Tommy moved far away from the central zone. Brings back too much. Feels unreal seeing it again

“Joy, fun, sadness, pain, too much of it all” -c!tommy

They’re approaching the community house.

Oh my god

Are they going where I think they’re going

I know this path

I’m going to explode. Jack doesn’t know where they are

c!tommy doesn’t live here

“No. Oh god, no” - c!tommy at the idea of living here

HE COMES HERE A LOT THOUGH

Sidenote what’s crazy is the server remaining intact yet abandoned and tommy just living here in peace, with everyone just gone and jack being surprised to see him here, fits perfectly with my own headcanon of what happened to the group in the end

c!Jack jokes about buying c!techno’s house. Is told it’s techno’s house. Immediately, comedically, backtracks

c!Technoblade doesn’t even live here but c!jack knows to still put respect on that man’s name

He calls techno living here ‘cultural significance’ this is hilarious from a character pov

he looked at the compound and types “o7”

tommy just sure here outside the fence and sits here “as long as he needs to. Sometimes minutes, sometimes hours”

This is making me ill in every context including that of my headcanons

It appears tommy was for retconning the nuke but jack would rather keep it

Jack’s officially called it the epilogue

The nether……

Hes realized his mistake of sprinting on the prime path. Everyones subbing

Bench spotted

SNOWCHESTER.

Reminiscing in his old house

Looked through the nuke lab. Chat is screaming because he didn’t check on Micheal (guys he’s with his honey-vendor dad of course)

Walking through the battlefield of the prison escape. Like he’s trying to murder me

………

Disregard that. Death begins now.

“There it is! The first place I was a part of. Then technoblade nuked it”

“And now I’m here. And this is the ruin.”

To paraphrase: he really came here expecting to make fun; he’s thought of the smp as something behind him, and it is. He came here to have a laugh but it’s…nice. This arc is finally, fully closed. He is planting the Manishroom, the one thing he’s maintained since day 1, in his original L’Manburg house.

“God just— picking through ruins to make this. So…poetic”

“Not even a lore-bit, this just feels like a nice way to close it out. That feels important to me. Thank you for being here,”

“I always felt like part of the [dsmp] group. Now I feel like my own guy. Really is a new arc”

“I didn’t like letting go of the mushroom. Felt like I wanted to cling on to it forever. But I feel like this was the right thing to do.”

Some more personal reminiscing at the end

Returning to the roulette wheel at Las Nevadas; c!Jack Manifold’s final resting place. Getting that big win; all in on red!

[foodsies4me]

April Malec fic rec!

Thanking @just-add-butter and @ariella9melody for this month's theme which is a double combo of "Outsider's POV" and "Let Alec have friends!" The same rules apply as always, one fic per author, even though all of these authors have other brilliant fics you should be reading and if you want to add your own recs in the comments, tags, or reblogs please feel free to do so! 😊

Also, I have tagged the authors whose Tumblr account I know, but if you'd prefer I not tag you, please tell me! I don't want these to be annoying for the authors.

One-shots:

Enthrallment by @smilebackwards: Magnus' magic being possessive and warlocks reacting to Magnus' magic being possessive, what more could you want? OC POV!

Summary:

It does look a little bad, Parmela thinks, looking at it from outside. As more specialists had been called in for consultation, they’d decamped to one of the larger conference rooms—eschewing attendance at A, B, AB, & O: The Impact of Blood Type on Non Subject Specific Blood Magic, because this was vastly more interesting and potentially important—and there are a round dozen high-level warlocks clustered around Alec, poking at him with magic. Or: Alec attends the Magical Inventions and Advances convention in hopes of recruiting warlocks for another Downworld Cabinet. The warlocks, however, are more interested—and concerned—by the blue magical aura following Alec around.

And I am breaking my own rules by rec-ing a second fic by smilebackwards: Portable Magic

Summary:

Magnus may go slightly overboard helping Alec set up for the book club gathering. Technically, perhaps, he didn’t need to create a signature cocktail or barter a favor to Raphael for O neg blood for the vampires or source the biscotti directly from Italy. But hospitality is important and these are Alec’s friends. He wants to make a good impression. Or: Alec is in a Downworld book club and Magnus finds this unaccountably fascinating.

I'll die on this (Under)hill by @clottedcreamfudge: like all of the fics written by clottedcreamfudge, this fic is downright hilarious. That said, poor Underhill. Underhill POV!

Summary:

The point is, Magnus Bane and Alec Lightwood clearly have an intimate knowledge of each other, and it has never once impacted on their work. What it is beginning to impact on, however, is Andrew’s sanity. Because apparently he really is the only one to have noticed it.

Be careful with my best friends heart by TheLostLightwood: A fic in Cat's perspective, who I maintain is one of the best characters in the series and we needed more of her! Cat POV!

Summary:

Catarina Loss had known Magnus for a long time, she had seen him cry, laugh, mourn, get injured and fall in love many times before. But she had never seen him more in love or more broken than she had in this moment. Cat's POV, as Alec is seriously injured in a fight against demons. And Magnus well he...

Alec's Little Ducklings by @to-the-stars-writing (this will be one of two recs for to the stars because I am being very bad at keeping to my rules this time around). Alec gets hurt and all of his friends appear to take care of him!

Summary:

After Alec's hurt coming home from the Hunter's Moon, he's left laid up in bed when the drug they gave him prevents his injuries from being healed by angelic or magical powers. Magnus is fully prepared to do take care of his stubborn boyfriend, only to find out that there are a few other people who are more than willing to offer their help.

the right thing by @cuubism: As the summary says, Alec's first speech as the Inquisitor doesn't go exactly as planned. Izzy POV!

Summary:

Alec's first speech as Inquisitor doesn't go exactly as planned.

nock. draw. release by chaidrivenwhore: A non human POV, but a weapon POV! Alec's bow to be specific!

the bow and arrows had tempted many, but this specific one, with its curved limbs engraved with angelic runes and sharp arrows, straight and unbending, had called out to a nine year old alexander lightwood like no other had.

Multi-chapter fics or series:

Families of Choice by MonPetitTresor, a recommendation made by @ariella9melody that I can only agree with because this fic is wonderful (as are all fics my MonPetitTresor).

Summary:

Life at the Institute takes a turn for the worse for Alec. When he's alone with nowhere else to turn, his siblings step up and help him find his feet once more with help from a few new friends along the way. Between them, Alec finally gets a chance to realize that the world doesn't begin and end with being a Shadowhunter, and there's more out there for him, so long as he's got the courage to reach out and grab it.

ask the always impossible of me by @faejilly: Some very nice Aline and Alec friendship!

Summary:

Just for one night, a magical ball where anyone can meet, when anything is possible... And that's just the beginning.

Running from the Night by @to-the-stars-writing: I love how Stars depicts Alec's struggles with his mental health and there are a lot of friends for Alec in this one!

Summary:

For a long time, Alec had felt like his life was held together by strings tied on him by the Clave, his parents, his siblings. Strings that pulled and tugged him in every which direction, heedless of the bruises and blood left behind. As much as they hurt, some days they’d been the only thing to hold him together. That is, up until the moment Alec stood on the shores of Lake Lyn and faced the death of the one person who held a piece of his soul, and the lies that followed his mysterious resurrection. There, on the shores of Lake Lyn, those strings finally pulled too hard, and Alec broke. With the permission of the Inquisitor, and the help of the warlock who Alec had wanted so desperately to allow himself to fall for (and had been terrified to do more than smile at his flirting) Alec walked away from everything and everyone. He left New York behind and made himself a home in the small town of Prayer – a joke Magnus found particularly funny. But, two years after that fateful night, Alec’s old life comes knocking, and those strings he thought he’d finally cut are tugging him home. Back to the place he never wanted to have to see again. At least this time, he’s not facing it alone.

[hatredmadeofgold]

I'm a terrible person with words, but here I go. (using a translator, my English is a little shit when it comes to writing and a little bit when it comes to pronunciation, ha!)

I would like to say with ALL my heart that I love your work and the writing in "Sing to Me", my heartbeat even accelerates when I remember the existence of this work of art and how wonderful the sensation was, the euphoric feeling of read each chapter and see all the care and dedication put into it. I have immense affection for Raiden, Sam (and Monsoon :)). Seeing how complex they are in the story brings me immense satisfaction, and I just wish all the positive recognition for you, it's impeccable.

(There's a lot I'd like to express, like my hyperfocus- but hey, I'm a terrible person at showing appreciation and affection, I hope you got the message anyway :))

hugs and kisses from a Brazilian! 🇧🇷❤

Oi, não se preocupa! Não sou falante nativo, mas entendi muito bem. Da próxima vez, você pode me escrever em pt-br (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)

Thank you so much!! I am really happy to know that you enjoy my work 💕 Honestly, every time someone tells me that they enjoy Sing to Me so much, I am getting really happy. This fic means a lot to me and gives me lots of strength and stability, although on the outside it might look that I am not doing much for it for the past year (I do, it's just background work that I can't show T_T massive spoilers and so on). But I mean, I kept saying that each time somebody came to my inbox about it for the last months.

And I am so glad to know that you're feeling like this for each chapter you've read so far! This fic in itself is really complex and long, I could give you a rough estimate of around ~100 Chapters for the main story (Those would be just arc 1-3, the series, however, has 6 arcs in total excluding the 2 AUs). Sooo... let me say, you've got a lot to look forward to, I suppose :3

Also I hope that you'll be curious about the revisions too. Chapter 5 and 6 will have a darker tone than their current version that is on AO3 at the moment, but also will be much better in quality. Chapter 6 will have major changes I think, especially the second halve of it. I am all giddy and excited myself whenever I think about all the plans I have for this story. The drama, the comedy, the (bitter-) sweetness, but also the chaos, the pain and the darker parts of this fic. I wish I could go on a ramble but it's so many spoilers lmao And I don't want to take that away from my readers. If anything, I might drop a few essays about Raiden and Sam that I've got on my to-do list at some point, that in some cases will directly tie to Sing to Me as well.

The series also goes in great detail about Sam's past and who he is as a person because I was a bit dissatisfied with how most fics for this pairing at least that I've read didn't come up with much for his past (but I still liked all of them regardless), hence I went a little bit insane about him. To the point that Sam is technically my OC now (according to my beta reader) lmao

Jsyk, this is my current graph view of my Obsidian vault for Sing to Me and all the dots that connect to him:

My vault is an absolute mess still tbh because the program is a bit overwhelming when you don't know where to start, so this is far from how complex this fic actually even is.

What I can tell you pretty much spoiler free is that the series is complex because timeline wise, it starts in the year of 2001 and ends (technically) in the year of 2026. I say technically because ARC3.5: The War in Heaven goes a bit crazy with science fiction elements and time is... let's say, "relative". The main fic spans from 2019 until 2023 btw.

The prequel (ARC0: I Come with Knives) is entirely about Sam's past, from his POV entirely, and a collaboration with @thatthereneverwas since he originally requested me to write it. Basically adding more Sam lore that we definitely need :3

Please don't hesitate to come to my inbox or DMs if you want to chat about Sing to Me, samuraiden or just Sam or Raiden with me! I don't bite :] Monsoon is also my favourite from the Winds of Destruction aside from Sam, so I get you! I've been thinking of maybe including him in the fic as well, but it's uncertain how so yet, and if it will just be a flashback of some sort 🤔 But I take notes as I go, we'll see :3

Beijos pra você também 💞

[azrielsshadows42]

Trespasser, Azriel x oc

This is my first fic ever on any platform, so pls be nice and I'm sorry if it sucks. Also, I haven't actually read the ACOTAR series yet, I really want to but... shit's expensive ya'll T-T, so if any details are incorrect, I sincerely apologize (I know he could have winnowed but, for the story we're gonna pretend he can't)

a/n: I am now reading acosf, no changes were since there was nothing too incorrect

Description: Azriel is coming home from a mission and is a little careless with his flying and crashes, while getting back home, he comes across someone who is unlike anyone he has ever seen.

Warnings: swearing, very very slight mention of injury, reader has she/her pronouns, eventual use of y/n, the smallest amount of suggestiveness it barely even counts and mystery maybe? idk

italics = thoughts Bold = actions/sound effects Both= plant speak, it will make sense, just wait

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

Azriel had been on this mission for a few days now, he couldn't wait to get back home and have dinner with his family. He was exhausted, his wings dragging, and all he wanted was to collapse in his bed, but alas, he still had to make the long flight home, back to Velaris.

Knowing that the longer he waited, the longer it would be until he gets to see his family, he picked up his wings and started making the long flight to the Townhouse.

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

You had had a relatively normal day, if you could call what you do in a day normal. Your life consisted of flying through the treetops, making sure that the animals and vegetation were healthy. Your job was to keep the cycle of forest life running smoothly, or well the life of this particular forest, although you did sometimes go out and help with the forests under your siblings care when they wanted to go galavanting about disguised as the locals.

You had never understood their fascination, I mean sure, you understood wanting some company that wasn't your family from time to time, and life as a forest deity was quite a lonely one, being that technically, the fae and mortals of the land were not supposed to be aware of your existence (hence the need to be disguised). But you failed to see what was so amazing about them, it's not that you didn't like them or had a problem with them, it just.... didn't appeal to you. And so, to this day you had never, in your 2750 years of life spoken to, or formally interacted with another person outside your siblings.

That was until today of course...

------------------------------------------------------------------------------Azriel's POV

'Just a little bit further, almost there' I thought nearing the greenery that surrounded Velaris.

'I can't wait for some warm food, and a real bed... and to think of it a proper shower couldn't hurt either-' My thought track was interrupted by a sharp pain along my wing, as it hit a particularly tall tree I hadn't noticed, subsequently, my whole body was thrown violently off course, and hurtled towards the ground hitting it, hard.

'Well fuck... that hurt' Groaning, I slowly got up and looked around, I wasn't too far from home, I recognized the trees around me, I could walk the rest of the way, though flying would be easier... not likely though, the tree canopy is to dense for me to break through, even the part where I fell seemed impossibly dense. sigh. 'Walking it is then.'

------------------------------------------------------------------------------Your POV

You had been idly walking around when a shiver went up your spine and then you heard a commotion from far away.

Crack! Snap! Thump!

You mentally asked the plants what was going on but they were all unusually quiet. 'Strange, they normally rush to tell me the smallest of things' you thought. Naturally you had to go and investigate the disturbance yourself. Quickly traversing the forest you called home, you made your way to whatever had made the noise and was very surprised in your findings. Hidden in the leaves you watched from afar. An Illryian, I haven't seen one in centuries.

He flew to close to the trees, nicked his wing. He fell. He crashed. The plants added in the same hushed whisper they always spoke to you in. You almost wanted to roll your eyes because now they wanted to tell you? When you could very much see that for yourself? you could see the slight dent where he had landed and the small scrape on his large black membranous wing, very different from your own. You also couldn't help but notice how beautiful this male was, dark hair, flawless skin, black ink-like markings creeping up the side of his neck, and he seemed to be shrouded in shadows despite the fact that the sun hadn't even started to set. 'He must be the shadowsinger'

You continued to silently admire him as he looked to be gathering his bearings, trying to determine exactly which way he should go to get to.... wherever he was going. The town house, you presumed. He turned to face your direction, revealing his absolutely stunning hazel eyes. Well you hadn't talked to any fae, you had seen them in passing, and had flown over the city once or twice, but none of the fae you had seen were quite as stunning as he was, though if there were more of them that held even a fraction of the beauty he did... well... then you finally understood your siblings appeal for wondering to the places they did.

You couldn't seem to pull your eyes from him, completely enamoured with this spectacular male, clad in black fighting leathers that enhanced his muscular figure. You definitely weren't complaining about the view. You knew you should be careful about how you approached the situation seeing as he donned seven siphons, but you just couldn't get over how pretty his eyes were! His deep, amazing, wonderful eyes that were...

Staring. Right. At you.

Not past, not behind, not in your general direction. At. You.

Shit. Shit shit shit shit SHIT You fled immediately. It would be alright, logically you knew that. You don't live this long and never get spotted by anyone, you and your siblings have all been seen at least three times each, unintentionally. That's how stories of spirits started, sightings of you and your siblings (especially certain brothers who loved to prank people and make them think the forest they tend to is haunted *cough cough* Ethari). But that didn't mean you would willingly let this male, no matter how beautiful, see anymore of you then he already had.

You silently moved through the trees, expertly navigating any looping vines or low hanging branches, not even looking back to see if he had followed until you reached your favourite spot. A sort of clearing that ran against a large stream, dimly reflecting the stars that have started to appear, where you could properly spread your wings without hitting anything, yet the branches reached out unnaturally far over the area so that anyone flying above would be oblivious to anything that happened below. (Which you may or may not have had anything to do with)

Once you felt that you were far enough, you stopped and asked the plants if he had followed you.

He attempted to, but has lost sight. He is now returning home. No damage done. Safe. You breathed in and out silently, still feeling like any noise would alert him of your location. Calmly strolling to the edge of the water, you gracefully sat down on the lush grass, flowers slowly growing around you as you fed them some of your own energy to help them grow faster. Small flowers of bright yellow, soft blue, and fierce red all made subtle appearances. And you thought of the gorgeous male you wish you could have talked to.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------Azriel's POV

Looking around, trying to find out exactly which direction home is, I couldn't help but get the feeling that I was being watched. My shadows had yet to leave my side, still checking for further injury. Once sure that there was nothing other than the small scrape on my left wing, they started to look for the source of this feeling.

I looked around and almost dismissed it entirely until my shadows notified me of a presence in the trees. I looked to where they told me to. But, no one was there, briefly wondering if they've been mistaken until my eyes locked with another pair.

They were a dazzling light green, like the leaves around them but darkened around the edges. I couldn't move, couldn't blink, I couldn't breath they were so gorgeous. It seems that whoever this was had been equally as stuck until suddenly, they were gone.

I ran after them, but they were so fast and I hadn't seen anything but their eyes, I had no idea what to look for. Eventually I stopped, and listened, choosing to track them by sound rather then sight, which I realized very soon that had been a mistake because they were as silent as I am. But apparently I need not worry, my shadows keeping up just fine.

I crept along the path my shadows guided me upon, until I saw a clearing, and in it, the person I'd been chasing...

And she was absolutely beautiful... No beautiful didn't cut it, radiant, luminous, ethereal, angelic, nothing seemed to describe her quite right. Getting a proper look at her, I could see why she was so hard to track, she blended in so perfectly with her surroundings, like she was made for this place, like this is where she belonged.

She had large wings in every shade of green, flowing from dark to light seamlessly, that looked like over lapping leaves, and a smaller pair just like the first ones, beneath them. She had a smooth tail hovering just above the ground, moving in slow, elegant sweeps, back and forth with dull spines running along it, adorned with yet another leaf at the tip. She also had small horns that looked akin to the bark on the trees around us, and unblemished brown skin. Her dark brunette, waist-length hair in a neat braid swaying with a light breeze. The energy and power she held emanated from her, in waves, it was... soothing.

My eyes couldn't stray from her figure as she sat down without a sound, her wings relaxed at her sides and her tail curled around her form perfectly. Who is this female? What is she? And, most importantly, is she a threat to the court? Despite my instincts telling me to be wary of her, despite not knowing what she is capable of, if she is or isn't dangerous, I just couldn't help but get a just a little bit closer to her.

SNAP!

Fuck Seriously?, years of spy training and centuries of experience only to be caught because I stepped on a twig, such a fucking cliché.

Her head whipped around and she stood up, our eyes met again. Instead of running away like I thought she would, we just kinda, stared at each other. She eventually broke eye contact and looked off to the side muttering something that sounded like "Went home my ass" before looking back to me.

I looked at her in silence for a moment longer before the logical part of my brain caught up with the rest of me, I stood up straighter, brought my wings in closer and narrowed my eyes.

"Who are you and what are you doing in Velaris?" She raised a thin eyebrow "What am I doing in Velaris?" She ignored my first question instead choosing only to repeat the second as if she couldn't believe I had the audacity to ask her that. I narrowed my eyes further, a strong grip on Truth-Teller. "Yes" I hissed "You are not allowed to be in Velaris unless you are a citizen or have explicit permission, you're trespassing" "I'm trespassing?" She laughed, and ignoring the shiver that amazing sound sent down my spine, she laughed at me. No one laughs at me.

Before I could say something back to her she said "Honey, I am no trespasser, if anything, you're the one who's trespassing" "How am I trespassing?" This is ridicules, I'm the spymaster of the night court, who in the name of the Mother does she think she is? "You are in my forest" She said casually. "Your forest?!" I scoffed. She narrowed her eyes "Yes, my forest" "This forest belongs to the high lord; Rhysand" I stated "The high lord may be the ruler of this land, but he is not the owner" "Who are you" I asked again, more sternly this time. Her eyes studied me for a moment before she said "My name is y/n, and I am the deity who tends to this forest"

"What in the cauldron does that mean?" "It means, that I am responsible for keeping the forest healthy, making sure there is no over or under population of any species, treating the plants when they get sick, I make sure the forest stays strong" I regarded her skeptically before letting my grip on Truth-Teller loosen and my wings relax a little, something about her made me want to trust her, it scared me but, I also couldn't ignore it. "Alright, if you're a deity, then prove it" "What?" "Prove it" She looked at me like I had just said the most bizarre thing she had ever heard in her life. "You want me to prove to you, that I'm a deity" "Yes" I said matter-of-factly, she laughed softly to herself and lightly shook her head as if she couldn't believe that this situation was happening, before finally locking eyes with me once again. She wore a warm smile, a light shining in her eyes with the smallest shimmer of mischief breaking through.

"Alright, I'll prove it" She sunk down to her knees and my mind flickered for a second, to a place it really shouldn't, her tail lay lightly on the grass below, just the tip slightly burying itself into the soft dirt, she brought her wings around her splaying them out on the ground so the edges were also shallowly submerged in the ground. Y/n closed her eyes.

Then I could see a small green light where her heart would be, it grew larger and brighter, soon, a ring of light pulsed from her heart, and another, and another until the rings came in sync with every one of her heart beats. It was magical, it felt like the whole forest, every plant and animal, even the very air, was breathing with her. I realized that even my breathing now matched hers, and everything around us just felt more alive. I was mesmerized.

She stood up slowly with the grace that surely only a deity could posses and opened her eyes, they glowed slightly in the late evening light. "Believe me now?" she asked with amusement at my wide eyes lacing her voice. Even when she's mocking me her voice still sounds like the best music that has ever blessed this world.

I wasn't able to get a word out, I just nodded. Her smile grew and the amount of pride that filled my chest for being the cause of that smile was unfathomable. She languidly walked closer, her eyes never leaving mine. "You know" she started "I'm not technically allowed to show you what I just did, so you'll have to keep this a secret between us" " Not allowed to?" I questioned "I thought you said you were a deity, doesn't that mean you make the rules?"

She tilted her head downward, and smiled, it almost looked... sad. Something in my chest did not like that thought, not at all. "You would think that, but even the most divine beings have rules to follow, the 1st, or well, the 2nd one is that no one is supposed to know of our existence" my eyebrows furrowed at that. 'Why is it required for such a beautiful person to be hidden from the world' "Why?" She looked down to the ground and said in a voice barely above a whisper "Its just the way it is" I could see the topic displeased her and so decided to change it.

"Are there any other deities?" She smiled, a true smile this time "Yes, my siblings, we each tend to a different aspect of nature some tend to oceans, marshes, cities, although I'm closest with the other forest deities" While she was speaking, a brach bent down between us, low enough to sit on. Y/n moved to sit on the branch and silently motioned for me to join her. "Tell me about them" I asked

We sat there, on that branch for over 2 hours, just talking about everything and anything, her family, what it was like to be a deity, the similarities between her and her plants and my shadows, how they both talked to us, knew us better than anyone else. And it felt good. Talking to her felt good. Seeing her smile at me, because of me made me smile. Our wings brushing against each other ever so slightly just adding to the peaceful euphoria of it all. I never wanted it to end.

"You should probably get back to your family, it's getting late, they might worry"

'My what? Oh right! My family, the one waiting in the town house for me so we can have dinner together, I told them I'd be back by now' I'd been in such a daze that I hadn't even noticed the time passing and had completely forgotten about the dinner plans made before I left for my mission. "Uhh, r-right, yes, of course" I stuttered, I fucking stuttered. Cauldrons what is this femal- deity doing to me? "See you around shadow-singer". Before I even had a chance to respond she had spread all four of her wings, and I couldn't help but admire them again, how they looked so fragile that if the wind blew to hard they would break. Yet they held strong without faltering. Lifting off into the air with the same grace she had shown the entire day, the canopy opening so she had direct access to the sky, she disappeared before I could blink.

I decided that, yes, I would definately be 'seeing her around' sometime. And with that I beat my wings lifting of the branch which slowly bent back to its original place, using the same break in the canopy that y/n had, and made my way home, thinking of how I would go out and try to find her again tomorrow.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------Y/n's POV

Leaving the shadow singer with a dumb-founded look on his face, I flew away to a deeper part of the forest.

'You know, maybe my siblings had the right idea with the whole 'visiting fae cities' thing, I might just need to ask one of them to take care of my forest for a while.' Just to see what I've been missing out on, obviosly. Not at all to see a certain shadow singer 'I never got his name.' Oh well, guess I'll just have to accidently stumble across him during my visit.

–-–-–-–-–-–-–-–-–-–-–-–-–-–-–-–-–-–-–-–-–-–-–-–-–-

Ok so how was that? Let me know if you think it was any good, constructive criticism is welcome, have a good day, love ya

[mournivaldisco]

A master post of all my Warhammer fic.

Spot the post-rock titles.

Silly - crack/outside of canon, no smut:

Assorted Yarns from the Warp – random cracky one-shots about various characters

An Average Monday on Prospero – Primarch bodyswaps

The Primarchs Read Mean Tweets – self-explanatory

Never Have I Ever – primarch drinking games

Documentary Evidence – Dorn reviews Mersadie’s memory coils during her imprisonment

Sanguinala Silliness – in the 41st Millennium, Guilliman and the Lion try out Sanguinala customs. Works up to shipping, no smut.

Fluff or silly, but could technically take place in canon:

The Bear – Tarik tells his favourite joke to the Mournival

Mountain Heart – The Lion inhales sleepy cuddles pollen. Set on Sotha during the Unremembered Empire

Dreamtime – sleepy Sanguinius

Serious - missing scenes/reinterpretations close to canon, no shipping that would be unimaginable in canon (take with a pinch of salt if you are not a Loken/Mersadie shipper):

These are my favourite to write. Just taking the canon and pushing it a teeny bit.

And So I Watch You From Afar - Erda writes to her sons.

When the Sky is Burning, When the World is Falling Down – missing scene from The Solar War. Loken and Mersadie

These Depths Were Always Meant for Both of Us – written before EatD vols 2 and 3 released, set in upcoming books. Loken and Mersadie

The Death – written after finishing EatD 2, set in upcoming book 3. Loken, the Emperor and Horus, mentioned Sanguinius

Dynasty – written after finishing EatD 3, set some time immediately before the Siege. Horus and Fulgrim

After the Fall – written after finishing EatD 3, set at climax of that book. Loken and Mersadie

Serious/smut – doesn’t conform to established canon, heavier shipping:

Reconnect (WIP) – divergence at the point of The Solar War. Mersadie/Loken fluff in epistolary form. No smut

A Day Dark with Night (WIP) – Set immediately after Curze’s attack on Azkaellon. Sanguinius/Azkaellon. Will contain smut in future chapter

A Steamy Meeting – Guilliman, the Lion and Sanguinius in the bathhouse on Macragge during the Unremembered Empire era. Smut

Inconsequential – Set during Unremembered Empire era. Established Guilliman/Lion/Sanguinius. NB Sang coming out. No smut.

Vampires will Never Hurt You – Guilliman’s POV on the 41st Millennium, mourning Sanguinius, with flashbacks to Unremembered Empire era with G/L/S (smut). This is my favourite single thing I’ve written.

That Intimate Knowledge – written after finishing EatD 2, looking back at Horus/Sanguinius’ relationship. Little bit of smut

Scenes from a Reunion – written after reading The Lion: Son of the Forest. Technically not aligning with canon re Launciel and Galad because in canon it was just subtext

Experiments – Set in the 41st Millennium when Guilliman decides to remove the Armour of Fate. Smut starring Yvraine.

Sudatoria – Sanguinius and Guilliman in the bathhouse in Unremembered Empire era. Smut.

Quality Time – the Mournival discover porn. Smut

Closer – Sanguinius/Jaghatai set during the Siege. Smut

Nowhere, Still Somewhere - Loken/Abaddon angsty smut post EatD3

A Horus Heresy (WIP):

Series which became an AU Heresy. Everyone is bonking each other.

Heresy of the Free Spirit – Horus/Sanguinius first getting together, set after Melchior. The first Warhammer smut I ever wrote.

We’re Falling Through Space, You and Me – Loken and Mersadie getting together, set during Horus Rising. Smut (There’s a line in this which makes me giggle to re-read because it’s so abrupt, like Mersadie, slow down girl.)

The Time of Perfect Virtue – AU from Horus Rising events. Loken or Mersadie’s POV until later chapters. Smut and drama and heresy.

A Gathering – Fulgrim/Horus/Sanguinius threesome. Smut

Milestones – an OC from this AU contemplating things. Gen.

Come Ruin and Rapture (WIP) – continues the cliffhanger from the Time of Perfect Virtue. Smut and drama.

[murd3rouscrow]

Good omens season 2 has single handedly got me back on Tumblr, purely cause this is the only place I've found where everyone isn't still collectively crying and instead collectively ganging up in Neil Gaiman.

On an entirely separate note, did anyone else feel like the second season was just Neil Gaiman's 6 chapter, 100k+ word, hurt/no comfort fanfic.

Like genuinely think about it. The entire season felt like a fanfic a fan would write while waiting for season 3. From the casual fanon headcanons (aziraphales favourite colour probably being yellow, the Bentley being a child of divorce) to the 'OCs' (yes I know technically all the characters are Neil's OCs but Nina and Maggie feel like they came straight out of a 'Pov outsider' fic) to the ships (ineffable bureaucracy). It all feels so... Fanfiction-y...

And I fucking love it

[amusingmusie]

okay so, im seeing lots of art of nel with short red hair. i envisioned her completely differently whilst reading Yours Truly. did I accidentally skip a description of her or something? or is the red hair something fans have just taken and run with?

You didn't miss anything! Nel has no name and very few descriptors in Yours Truly- this is because I'm writing a reader insert, and the whole point is that you get to plug in whoever you want. If it wasn't for the fact that the setting is 1930s New Orleans, I wouldn't have given her a race or gender description either.

Her name and appearance exist solely outside of the story- people's fanart comes from the personal art I've had made for her that matches what she looks like in my head. For example, these were some of the first pieces I ever posted of her online:

(both by my very talented stink stink gemrocknerd go follow her)

Technically, she's my OC and we follow her POV, but again, it's reader-insert so I keep her descriptions vague in the fic. I actually highly dislike when people make a reader insert and then write their OC in 3rd person...that goes in the OC tag!

This was a whole lot of yapping just to say you didn't miss a thing and you can envision her however you'd like!

[elspethdekarios]

Faerûnian 29 Day Writing Challenge: Healing

I know I'm late for this one, but since my tav, Elspeth, is a cleric and a skilled healer, I knew I had to write this one. Technically two... one from Elspeth's POV and one from Gale's POV. Enjoy!!

SFW / Gale x Female OC

Feb 11. Healing each other's wounds

As if the horrible, heavy darkness of the Shadow-Cursed Lands wasn’t enough, moments after venturing forth from Last Light Inn, they were ambushed by these wretched… things. Like trees, but twisted and demented by the necrotic shadows of the land. 

“Needle Blights,” Gale said as they sprang to life from the darkness, as if reading Elspeth’s mind as she wondered what the damned things were.

“Any idea how to kill them?” Shadowheart asked, grasping at the glowing mace strapped to her back. 

“The same way we kill everything, I suppose,” he said. “They explode with needles upon killing them, so be careful.”

Karlach ran head-on into the horde, almost cleaving one of the Needle Blights in two with just one hit. She slashed at it once more, dodging quickly to the side before the creature burst into dust, sending its needles flying through the air at a deadly speed,

“You weren’t kidding,” Karlach cried from the ground where she crouched.

“You two stay back,” Elspeth said to Gale and Shadowheart as she readied herself to plunge into the center of the battle. “Cast from a distance.”

“And you?” Gale quipped from her side, genuine concern in his voice and his eyes. Just the night before, he finally made a move on her after their battle with Marcus. While she was unsure if he reciprocated her feelings before, with the orb stabilized, he finally let her know that yes, he did indeed have feelings for her.

“Spirit Guardians,” she smirked at him before casting the spell on herself, radiant, gold dragons forming a circle of protection around her. Glaive in hand, she maneuvered to the center of the Needle Blights, each one of them thrashing in pain as she passed. One that Karlach had already done some damage to exploded on contact with the guardians, needles flying out once again. Elspeth shielded her face with an arm, feeling needles pelt into her armour. A few small ones pierced the outside of her leg, and she grunted in pain before taking a steadying breath and starting to fight. Healing would come later.

From the ground below, Shadowheart sent Guiding Bolts and arrows into the creatures while Gale carefully placed Glyphs of Wardings where Karlach and El wouldn’t trigger them. Just from a quick glance El dared to take after defeating the creature closest to her and protecting herself from the needles, she could tell he was distracted–his eyes kept darting in her direction, his face full of worry. She didn’t have much time to dwell on this, as another Needle Blight was closing in on her.

One by one, the grotesque creatures fell to their weapons and spells, a blast of piercing shards upon their death. With only three left, El dared a look down to Gale, now concentrating on a spell to hold one of them in place as Karlach bashed its gnarled bark in with her axe–concentrating so intensely that he didn’t see the monster approaching from behind him.

El called out his name just as a Needle Blight swiped its limbs in her direction, slashing stinging cuts into her face. She screamed out and stabbed the creature with her glaive, ready to hurl a spell at the one creeping up behind Gale, but she heard him cry out in pain before she could look. He was still standing, grasping at a wound in his side, and he hit the creature with a powerful spell, causing it to erupt in a red light before shooting its needles into him and knocking him to the ground.

“No!” El cried, hitting the monster in front of her as hard as she possibly could, dazing it so she could run to him, but the creature was too quick, swiping at her once more. Karlach raced to her, cleaving the thing straight down the middle and taking the brunt of the needle explosion. 

“That was the last one,” she panted as her flames began to die down.

Elspeth climbed down the stone she was standing on, running to Gale’s side. Shadowheart had already started rummaging through their supplies for healing potion. Kneeling in the dirt beside him, El surveyed his injuries. The side of his face and neck were bloodied with lacerations, the wound in his side a stain of darkest red on his purple robe. He was still conscious, but not by much.

“Gale,” she said as she untied the robe, revealing his white wrap shirt sticky with blood. “Gale, stay with me, okay?”

He turned his head toward her, mumbling something she couldn’t understand, and opened his eyes just a sliver as she hovered her hands above the wound and spoke an incantation. Turquoise magic radiated from her palms, casting a pale blue light on the darkness around them. Moving her hands away, she inspected the wound through the torn and bloody shirt. It was still red and angry-looking, but it was closed up now. Shadowheart handed El a potion, which she held to Gale’s lips as she propped up his head on her knee. Moments after swallowing, he was alert again, the cuts on his face beginning to close. El ran her hand over them with another healing spell, and they disappeared completely. 

“Are you alright?” she asked, his head still in her lap, her hand inadvertently resting on his chest.

They stared at each other for what probably seemed an awkward amount of time to Shadowheart and Karlach, who also sat around Gale as he stirred back to reality. El realized where her hand was after a few moments, but made no effort to move it.

“Yes,” he said. “Yes, I think so.”

“Good,” she said. “Now make sure you’re paying attention to your own surroundings and not mine.”

“I was worried about you getting hurt.” He rested his hand on top of hers.

“I’ll be okay,” she said. “Please, don’t worry so much about me that you put yourself at risk.”

He smirked up at her. “If putting myself at risk means you get to come patch me up afterwards, then perhaps I should put myself at risk more often.”

She was unimpressed.

“I’m joking, El,” he reassured her as he sat up. “I’ll be more careful. I promise.”

“Thank you,” she said.

“I think I’m the one who should be thanking you.”

“Can you two please wait until we’re back at camp before you start looking at each other like that?” Shadowheart said as she packed up the supplies she had taken out of the bag. Karlach only smiled down at them like a proud parent.

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

Viconia was dead. The Sharrans were dead. Jaheira was dead, Shadowheart was dead, but most importantly–Elspeth was dead.

Gale was alone. The only living soul in this echoing, dark cloister. He had one singular Scroll of Revivify on his person, and that was for El. They could figure out the rest later.

He climbed down the stone stairs to the open floor, stepping over singed and bloodied bodies at he kept his eyes fixed on the lifeless figure in pale blue armor that was still so far from him. A lump caught in his throat at the sight of her lying there, and his chest started to tighten. What if the scroll didn’t work? They’d always worked before, but… what if it didn’t? He couldn’t face this journey nor this world without her. Calm down, he told himself. There’s no reason for the scroll not to work. And there’s always Withers. She’ll be okay. 

He repeated the last line with every step he took towards her body.

She’ll be okay.

She’ll be okay.

She’s okay.

She has to be okay.

Gale approached the foot of the stairs where she had fallen, and a wave of cold washed over him at the sight of her. He dropped to his knees, gathered her cold body into his lap, and took out the scroll. With an incantation, it began to glow bright gold in his hand. He held it with a trembling fist, fear roaring in his heart until he began to feel the tingle of life stirring in her limbs.

“Elspeth,” he breathed. “El, my love, please wake up.”

Her chest began to rise and fall in slow, shallow movements. She did not stir at his touch nor his words.

Gale cursed as he dug frantically through his supplies and hers because surely there was a spare healing potion between the two of them. After emptying out both of their enchanted pockets, he realized that no–they didn’t. He could go try Shadowheart or Jaheira. Hells, he could check every single one of these corpses, but he couldn’t bear to walk away from her. Not even for a moment. It would only take a moment for something to happen, and he was not letting her die again. 

He knew some healing spells, but Elspeth was the expert. Although Shadowheart was also a cleric, Elspeth was more learned in healing magic and non-magic alike. She’d been studying and working as a healer for years, and undoubtedly knew more than Gale, educated as he may be. The measly curing spells that he could cast would do little to heal her–it would take several to get her back on her feet, and he didn’t have much magic left in him after that horrendous battle. No, a more powerful spell would be much more effective.

“Think, Gale,” he muttered to himself as he tried to recall the gesture and incantation for the powerful healing spell that he’d heard El cast only a handful of times. Syllables and magic terms ran through his mind at lightning speed as he tried to trigger any memory, anything that might make it click. Vis, he finally thought. Vis something… Vis curo? No, that was for multiple targets…. Gale continued running through possibilities until, finally, it came to him.

Vis Medicatrix.

He spoke the incantation and held his hands in the shape he’d seen her make while healing so many others. 

Elspeth suddenly gasped for air as if she’d been holding her breath underwater, her eyes wide as she sat up and took in her surroundings.

“Oh, thank the gods,” Gale sighed as she caught her breath, not even minding that Shar, whose temple they just slaughtered, was one of the gods he was thanking.

“Is…” El stammered out as she got her bearings. “Shadowheart… Jaheira…?” 

“I only had one scroll,” he said. “I had to get you back first.” Now that she was alive, breathing, talking, sitting right in front of him, he could finally breathe again. She pressed herself into his chest, practically sitting on his lap as his legs stretched out along the floor. He held her close and savored the warmth flowing back into her, the faint scent of orange blossom that lingered in her hair underneath the scent of blood and smoke. 

“I was so scared,” he whispered into the top of her head. “Please don’t ever leave me again. Not like that.”

She squeezed her arms around his waist, tilting her head to look up at him. Bloody, bruised, and covered in ash, she was still beautiful. Her pale green eyes were the brightest thing in this entire damned building. They pierced through the darkness like glittering gems in the sunlight.

She ran her thumb over a nasty scratch on his face that he wasn’t even aware of until it stung for a brief moment before healing under her touch.

“You can’t get rid of me that easily, Dekarios.”

Gale smiled wearily. As aware as Elspeth was of her “resting bitch face” (her words–not his), she was the most playful person he knew. He wasn’t surprised at all that she was making jokes after only just being brought back to mortal soil.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he said. “But if you keep calling me by my last name, I may have to start.”

He pressed a kiss to her soot-stained forehead and counted his lucky stars that she was here in his arms, very much alive.

[aster-draws]

Who’s the hardest character to write and why?

And who’s the easiest?

(I’m totally not asking this because I like reading you explaining things, noooooo)

You are in luck because I love explaining things.

I don't think I really have difficulty writing any one character- I don't like staying in one POV for entire works, that's definitely more of a struggle for me than any one character. Generally if I'm having problems with a character then it's not the place for them? If that makes sense. Like I love Duke to Death but trying to fit him into Wanted was Not It. And that's for writing in their head or for writing them from someone else's. If it sucks hit da bricks, essentially.

Technically, though (as in, regarding a technical aspect) Damian was the most difficult in Wanted because I started off giving him a very strong and distinct voice, and when I went back to his POV in later chapters, I had to edit a lot to maintain consistency.

As far as Better Halves, though, I don't think I'm running into any issues with either of them- i won't be moving to any POVs other than Tim or Danny for the whole work. Tim is Very Easy for me to write. I am him. He is me. in that we have a lot of similar tendencies and flaws. But it's easy for me to find a balance- i don't stay in Tim's head forever, because I just ask myself- who's POV in this scene has The Most potential for. Like. a reaction from my audience. (eg. Angst, Humor, giggling and kicking feet, ect.) and then I just do that.

And OUTSIDE of Fanfiction, the Most technically difficult character I write is one of my OCs, CARMI, who is a brain in a jar operating an android body. I have to make a lot of decisions about her narration based on Neuroscience and our understanding of consciousness, and how learning and the way we interact with our environment affects the way we perceive the world around us. I'm gonna be so fr I still don't know if I can pull this shit off. I'm gonna TRY because it'll be sick as hell if I can do it right. But it's very hard and my brain hurts thinking about it

[mydeardoxy]

Black/Racial Coding Doesn't Equal Racial Stereotypes

I can not believe we live in a society that genuinely believes racial coding = 'stereotypes but woke'...

Y'all, racial stereotypes are overexaggerated and meant to generalize a group as a whole....

Yes, racial stereotypes are technically coding, but that doesn't mean racial coding itself is based on stereotypes. [Think square = rectangle but rectangle =/= square.]

If it was all the same, you can not create any characters with a race because anything can be a stereotype by their POV.

Gave your white oc straight hair? "Racist. Not all white people have straight hair."

Gave your black oc dark skin? "Racist. Not all black people have darker skin."

Your character comes from a place with a language other than English, and they dare speak in that language? "Racist. Not every person knows their home language."

All of these rebuttals in isolation are correct, but context is extremely important. Yes, if someone claims an entire group of people have to look like XYZ to be a certain race, that's stereotyping. Making characters who happen to have very common traits among certain races, specifically the one they're meant to represent, is not.

You can literally spin anything into being racist if you view characters with this amount of malicious intent.

Getting so butthurt over someone simply calling a character X-coded (especially when it's confirmed and extremely obvious) is so incredibly dumb.

Getting mad at people critical of an X-coded character because there's no traits for people to actually connect the dots (without reading an outside source) is also extremely dumb.

TLDR: Racial coding is simply giving characters traits to represent a certain race. Racial stereotypes are still coding, but that doesn't mean racial coding itself is inherently stereotypical. Otherwise, every depiction of race is a stereotype and/or racist.

[firecoloredwater]

An impulsive fic happened.

It's been fifteen years since Isamu was found, badly injured and unconscious in the forest. He woke up with amnesia, but his origin was pretty obvious, so he doesn't even miss the memories. It's been fifteen years. He's grown up, earned a place in the town that took him in, and even gotten married. His not-so-mysterious past doesn't matter. Not until shinobi wander into town, anyway. AKA: Kawarama's not dead

Tags:

Senju Kawarama, Senju Hashirama, Senju Tobirama, Uzumaki Mito

guest starring Madara and Izuna, and also some OCs, outsider POV, this is TECHNICALLY an, Everybody Lives, but in a weird way where they thought the canonically dead brothers died like in canon, and are just learning that they're wrong, more details in the notes, there's a lot of angst going on but the POV is just panicking, incorrectly to be clear, they don't exactly get to happily ever after but they will, it'll just take more time to sort out than this fic covers, mentioned violence and child death but not detailed or on screen

[mushyposts]

New ocs 👀

Or is just pov and I am confused 🤔

Either way I am so excited to see!!!!!

I also am kinda wondering what are you fire Nation laws?(Everyone has different ones)

not a new OC! Som very special people are getting POV's in the next chapter hehehe... Im not too sure what you mean by laws, so im gonna take it as a general "What are the major laws thatll effect the fic" kind of thing! The Fire Nation has legal banishment for everyone, which I mentioned offhandedly in the fic. You can send a document to the Fire Lord, but usually its seen by his representatives for that area, to get someone you are legally in charge of (your children, adopted or not, anyone ur the legal guardian of, OR if they've committed treason under the military branch ur in control of! although that can sometimes open u up to speculation, why are so many in ur command questioning our great nation??? What are you teaching them?) banished, this can be conditional (like Zuko's was) or it can be permanent. Sexuality isnt spoken about, theres technically no laws around homosexuality as it isnt even given as an OPTION, the only law that mentions it is that any relationship not mentioned by Agni's words, is not permitted and is seen as a crime against Agni, and is punishable by conditional banishment or even death in some spaces. Since Sozin removed any mention of homosexuality, polyamory, or honestly any relationship/gender outside the cishet binary, this means that without even MENTIONING the idea of homosexuality, as they did not want to even give a name to it as name is power, they've made it functionally illegal. Agni Kai MUST be fought between the parties who initiated it. The one who asks, the one who accepts, unless the Fire Lord says otherwise. This includes him taking the place of, or even permitting (read: Forcing) others to take place for either party. This is meant to be used to protect members who may be unable to properly fight, but still need to have their honour protected. It is. NOT used in that way, usually used as a way for two people engaged in an Agni Kai to try get as better fighter as they can OR Ozai may swap strong benders for weaker one where he wishes another party to win. There arent many laws around women or men's roles. Its more so centric around bender or non-bender. If you can bend, you're expected to do military service on the battle grounds. If you cant, then youre expected to do compulsory military service as a desk worker or something of the sorts. very low ranking, but still something. Very rare for non-benders to climb up the ranks, this got more prevalent during Ozai's rule. I think for the most part the Fire Nation would rule through the unsaid, the inexplicit. Propaganda, subtle laws, technicalities. Keeping their nation as in the dark as they can, lack of proper education/severely distorted education (This is displayed in canon too when Aang goes to the fire nation school.) and it was done slowly, subtly over the years of the war, through twisted narratives. I do believe in explicit laws being present, of course, but I also think sometimes the most dangerous of things said, is what is left unsaid. Lack of explicit, direct legislation, also would give Ozai the opportunity to use loopholes, or consistently falling on Agni's word seeing as he is Agni's will on earth, he can do whatever TF he wants. Less explicit, the better for him in the long run. UH! Thats all I can think of at this point hehe. Also to be clear I havent actually watched LOK, nor have I read all the comics, so this is all based on my own world building after years of obsession w ATLA and atp im too attached to it to let the other stuff change my mind i am SORRY... I also just dont have time ot read all the comics and watch LOK.

[delicatefade]

Fanfic Writer Questions

Tagged by @dreadfutures - and tagging more!

@warpedlegacy @rakshadow @effelants @bluewren @breninarthur @ar-lath-ma-cully @ir0n-angel @inquisimer @crackinglamb @theluckywizard @nirikeehan @oxygenforthewicked @exalted-dawn-drabbles @melisusthewee @blarrghe @agentkatie @delicatefade @leggywillow @about2dance @mrslyncx @flaggermuser @hekaerges @skinwalkingxana @rowanisawriter @anderstrevelyan

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

6

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

53,612

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Dragon Age. I have one fic that's a South Park fic that was a gift fic for someone else. It's an episode of South Park where Randy thinks he's a witcher and goes by Randalt.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

A thousand years or more, if not for this - SMUT PERFORMS SO WELL!

The sky sang out your name to me - Post-trespasser Solavellan hell

Heart of Glass - Dalish OC/OC story starts before events of Inquisition

Randalt - The South Park gift fic I mentioned above

The Pride of the Dalish - Prologue to Heart of Glass

5. Do you respond to comments?

Yes! All of them. Comments are cherished!

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

The sky sang out your name to me  Technically it's a happy ending for Solas and Eilan, but, uh, it feels bad for the reader. Hehehehehehe. 😈😈😈

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

The Pride of the Dalish. Eilan is a secretive person and reveals one of her most closely held secrets to Lex and he holds it gingerly for her and supports her. It is cute.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Eh. Maybe? I've gotten hate on ME over a fic. Like someone who loved my fic and praised it but said it made them think I am a bad person irl. That sort of thing? Kind of unhinged so I don't pay it much mind.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I did one smut for the clicks and it worked, baby. Most read fic with that E tag.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

Nah.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge. I also don't go looking for it.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Nope! Though @bluewren and I discuss Lex and Eilan deeply to get them right in our independent writing, we've never actively co-written a story.

14. What's your all time favorite ship?

I am a single-minded "current ship is the OTP" fanatic, so right now it's Lex/Eilan.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

A Fenris POV fic. It starts during Inquisition. Fenris and Hawke are together in Kirkwall. Fenris is struggling to find his identity and purpose as a free man. Hawke's celebrity dominates how people see them in Kirkwall. He starts harboring resentment and blaming Hawke for all sorts of feelings of aimlessness and inadequacy and Hawke is like ????? but also not very helpful or a good emotional lean-to because she is a very prickly red Hawke. Cullen, now commander of the Inquisition, writes to Hawke asking for her help on a mission. Fenris sees it first and intercepts the mission, replies saying he'll do it, does not inform Hawke, and leaves without saying a word. It's a few months of Fenris finding himself and his inner turmoil as he goes through the ordeal of discovering himself outside the confines of slavery. Isabela is on the quest with him and really not helping because Isabela hates Hawke at this point (they were close, then things soured, and Isabela sees an opportunity to poke Hawke in the eye via Fenris.) At the end of the quest he goes to Skyhold to meet with Cullen and Hawke is already there, called in by Varric, and it's on the cusp of the battle at Fort Adamant. THE DRAMA IS EPIC. THE CONFRONTATION! AAAAAH!

16. What are your writing strengths?

According to readers, well drawn characters and scene tension.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

When I am tired and lose track of what my story is about, I tend towards humor/jokes and the fic souffle loses all shape.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

For me it's all contextual. Some times leaving something untranslated is in service of the scene and a smart choice, sometimes the translation is a smart choice. I go by what serves the fic best in that moment, and even combine it in the same fic. There's no hard or fast rules for me.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Sailor Moon when I was 11 or 12.

20. Favorite fic you've written?

My current WIP. But that's not published yet. So from the published fics, maybe Ropes of Fate. Short story, 3,000 words, light and sweet, 11-year old Lex POV. It came out of me more or less intact which was a nice feeling (and maybe only possible with short stories 😉)

blank form below:

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

3. What fandoms do you write for?

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

5. Do you respond to comments?

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

8. Do you get hate on fics?

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

14. What's your all time favorite ship?

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

16. What are your writing strengths?

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

19. First fandom you wrote for?

20. Favorite fic you've written?

[megarywrites]

For the Writer (& Artist) Ask Game: 1, 10, and 26? ^.^

thanks! gonna put it under the cut because you know how i get lol

1 | Who was your first ever OC? Do you still "use" them? How have they evolved over time?

Zurri my love my angel my sweetheart. She's one of the 4 POV characters from the WIP I'll be returning to once I've completed both books in Seafoam, and she'll actually be the first one who will be introduced when the book starts. She has evolved.................just so much since her creation lol. She's been my best babygirl since 2012 when my sister and I were working on her story and what will be the Cycle of Dracrie (CoD) series. The story she is (technically, no I won't elaborate) introduced in will be called Visions from the Pool, and it's an extremely loose Snow White retelling, with little miss Zurri as our leading lady. At the original conception of this story, the world and magic system was so vastly different than what I'm doing now...I can't really figure out where to begin to describe her differences. What has stayed the same, though, is her feeling of being an outsider and a sense of not belonging to the place she was raised in. She feels lost in life and curious about the world beyond the borders of the encampment she grew up in. There will be a chance for her to escape and experience life for herself and find somewhere that she can truly call home, but it'll take some time.

10 | OC you most struggled to make?

in terms of Seafoam, I'd probably have to say Geros (the Diamo, aka who most will consider the main antagonist of the duology). I think creating villains is one of my writing weaknesses, and I hope I'm doing his charisma and gentle yet violent nature justice, but we'll see. for CoD...again, probably the main antagonist for the entire (15-book) series. I've been thinking about him a lot lately and trying to sort out his motivation (spite, mainly, but also a love of chaos) and the actual logistics of redacted plot things lol he's gonna be fascinating, hopefully tho...very puppet master-esque in terms of his role in the fate of Dracrie/Thiortha (i hope i can pull it off lol)

26 | What are your favorite books?

oh jesus uh....okay

The Neverending Story by Michael Ende - magnificent. if you've never read it, I cannot recommend it enough. It's a childhood favorite of mine and I was as wrapped up in the story as Bastian was when I first read it, and, in my opinion, it still holds up when reading it as an adult. Also, I've just always loved the use of color in the actual text, switching between green and burgundy when going between Fantasia and Bastian's real life

The Starless Sea but Erin Morgenstern - the aesthetics of this one...the non-linear story telling...the poetic prose...it's all chef's kiss. it was the first book I read in ages, because I had been going through a reading slump (depression lol) and it had been literal years since I picked anything up and I decided to give it a try and I loved it. Her prose is so beautiful and she's one of the authors I'm inspired by when it comes to learning from them with regards to my own writing.

The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings by J.R.R. Tolkien - I mean, obviously, right? He's the father of the high fantasy genre, my dog is named after Frodo, ofc I love his work lol I try to listen to the audiobooks whenever I go on hikes just to feel included, it's great. He's another one of my inspirations when it comes to writing, because I just adore how vast his world-building is, how he writes male characters, and the earnest and authentic message of hope and fighting for what's write that so beautifully alive in this story.

The Hunger Games trilogy by Suzanne Collins - a stunning and evocative piece of literature that has captivated me since I originally read them way back when. She, again, is one of my writing inspirations because of her masterful use of first person pov, which is something that I generally dislike to read, and her impeccable story structure (which is something I'm leaning toward using with Seafoam)

The Harry Potter series by J.K. Rowling - okay, hear me out. I know she is a controversial figure now, but no one can deny the grip that this series has had on the world since it was first released. The wizarding world was so rich and inviting that even I, who wasn't allowed to read/watch it at all when I was growing up (because of religion) wanted to be a part of it. That in and of itself is something I'd like to strive for with my world-building--creating something so tangible and fascinating that readers flock to it. Probably never to that degree of success, of course...gotta be realistic lol

and last but certainly not least

The Inheritance Cycle by Christopher Paolini - aka my first introduction to the fantasy genre. I used to reread it every summer and whenever a new book in the series was coming out. Life has unfortunately gotten in the way of me reading the most recent addition to the series (a spinoff starring one of the important side characters) but it's patiently waiting for me whenever I do have the time to dedicate to a proper reread and first-read of the new book

send me author/artist asks?