#sort of it’s meant to be more like lava or fire

[jupitisms]

Chronic eczema sucks ass. Especially when you have sensory issues. Especially especially when you compulsively pick at/scratch uneven or dry skin. It’s only recently I realised how much of a lingering effect it’s had on me, I’ve had this since I was maybe 8 years old, it’s my normal, and as it’s seen as such a trivial thing if it’s not intensely severe, you just don’t think about it. It’s just another thing to deal with.

[ganondoodle]

totk cataclysm event wasnt just a great (but utterly missed) opportunity to change the map in techincally little ways that has drastic consequences both in stakes and in gameplay (like i mentioned before, flooding the gerudo desert would have meant devastating consequences for its ecosystem- like imagine little islands of sand still poking out, acting as a sort of last doomed refuge for sandseals- but also cahnged the entire gameplay of it, good chance to introduce some neat new ways to surf on water like a new ridable creature or an ice shield freezing a path while you surf on it, the gerudo being forced to save the city from drowing in various means or now living on the roofs, trying to adapt by building boats ect - also call back to older games?? since totk loves that so much ..-, vah naboris serving as the savest refuge being high above the water, even if non functional; similarly takign away ALL water from the zora region, gaving it all dry out would imemdiately turn into something way different and could mean death for the zora- forcing them to move to the lower parts of akkala for example- maybe vah ruta is still halfway functioning bc the faith the zora have to mipha, dorephan and sidon is, while not enough to keep it fully functional, but enough to generate some water so the most stubborn or brave zora set up around it like a last oasis; i know its somewhat done with death mountain but the gorons dont really suffer from it bc their only problem is a drugged rock that makes them mean and lazy ..- what about collapsing or exploding it, leaving a large crater that over the course of the game could start to grow with plant life since vulcanic earth is so fertile- some never seen before ones that was dormant in the lava and now that its cooled off is springing to life, which might seem good at first but for the area and its wildlife means loss of their habitat; the rito freezing over, but actually having to move, maybe into the tabantha canyon, building their new makeshift homes in between the walls of it- generally just switiching things around a bit would have done so much wihtout having to edit every last detail ((seriously tho, how did this game take so long given that botw took similar but they did that ENTIRE main map as detailed as it is AND made it all coherent with itself and its themes- im ranting again ..)

-but it ALSO would have been the perfect opportunity to introduce new weather types created by the sudden change in environment, somethign like a super strong wind that slows you when walking agaisnt and lets you jump much farther when with it- a darkness thing that clouds the world in utter darkness with only little light getting through anything that is caused by mushrooms from the udnerground invading the surface and their spores snuffs out all light (which could explain the weird darkness in the ruins from botw too!!), or just simply mist! making everything misty changes the entire feel of any environment drastically- you could make vertain enemies spawn only in certain weather conditions, lessening the repetive overuse of them; and that is only on the surface- what if the sky had sunbeams so strong it sets anything on fire if you dare to leave the shadows- to comabt it get a armor with a giant hat!! the underground could have been filled with different environments in the first place, but then of course thered be those dark spores of mushrooms, an entire forest you have to carefully travers other wise making them release their spores and make it all more difficult, glowy mushrooms, MORE glowy mushroms, theres so many weird ass shrooms IRL you could take inspo from!! maybe soemthing like a forest of kelp, long flowy plants obstructing view and making you anxious by any movement- there could be one thats a mimic or infected with miasma, slightly off color and its knobs are malice eyes that open only if it thinks you cant see it

(also for the idea of taking botws stuff and recontextualizing it, the guardians or shrines, now non fucntional, could be infected my miasma sometimes, maybe randomly to keep you guessing- an overgrown shrine suddenly lifting itself up with hands clawing at you when you get too close or do sth wrong to distrub it- similar with guardians tho the effect might be less since you know them as a threat already- or sth i mentioned in another post, a tower being used as a weapon by a gigatic miasma monster- the one in the gerudo region with the bottomless pit for example, perfect for an arena for you to run around in the spiral while its swinging at you etc etc)

JUST taking what botw had and mixing it up, expanding on it, even if technically little change, it could do so much but in the actual game death mountain and rito is the only ones that saw anything of a change like it, and it largely .. didnt change anything or was reversible easily, and had no actual consquences that meant anything, neither stakes nor environmental or narratively (the gerudo felt like it at first but its also largely reversible, its just kinda .. adding a bit of city)

i hhhhhhhhhhhhhh have so many thoughts still, i am just better at holding them back .... also dont wanna annoy lmao

[c-e-d-dreamer]

I Can Take the Upper Hand and Touch Your Body: Epilogue

A/N: So I meant to post this yesterday for @acotar-omegaverse-week's Day Four because hoo boy are they "Getting Knotty" in this, but then I had to actually do my job? And didn't have time to finish and edit. Booooo. So now I'm posting this today! Hope everyone enjoys this once again very smutty ending.

Read on AO3 // Previous Part

Six Months Later

Nesta is already sweating when she opens her eyes. Her whole body feels like it’s on fire, molten lava pounding through her veins in time with the heart beating between her ribs, in time with the beat of her heart rushing and echoing in her ears. Her skin feels stretched uncomfortably over her bones, and Nesta clenches her fists to keep down the desire to scratch at her arms, to claw at her throat. She shoves at the blankets tangled around her legs, but the slide of the fabric against her skin only seems to make matters worse, the relief Nesta is desperate for still so far out of reach.

With a whimper, Nesta rolls over, pressing her face into her pillow. She tries to focus on her breathing, on taking slow, deep breaths in and out to calm her heaving chest. Each inhale draws out more of the scent that clings to the fabric, and that at least helps to soothe Nesta’s quickly fraying nerves enough that she can think a bit clearer.

Nesta has always been meticulous in her tracking, in her planning. She always knows exactly when to stock up on supplies, when to take off from work. She always knows exactly what to expect, and this is not it.

It’s too early.

But Nesta knows that denial won’t help or get her anywhere. Because there’s no denying the slick already sticky and coating the inside of her thighs. There’s no denying the cramping low in her gut and the way her cunt clenches in desperation to be filled. There’s no denying that her heat has started.

Keeping her face pressed firmly into the pillow, Nesta reaches a hand down between her thighs, pressing the heel of her hand against her clit. The too long sleeve of the hoodie she’s wearing catches slightly around her fingers, and Nesta whines, trying to rock her hips down and chasing some sort of relief.

Perhaps, she shouldn’t really be surprised at her heat coming on. She’s been wearing the hoodie for two days now after all. She had also swapped the pillow she used with the one from the other side of the bed. And just yesterday, she had gathered up more of the blankets onto the bed. The perfect nest, and it hadn’t even registered in Nesta’s mind. She just thought she missed Cassian and the heat he always radiated to keep her warm while he was off with his brothers to some family cabin they visit annually.

Cassian. Her alpha.

Just thinking about him has another whine pulled right from Nesta’s chest. She reaches blindly toward the bedside table, fingers fumbling to find her phone. Another cramp spasms low in her gut, a fresh rush of slick dripping between her thighs, and Nesta lets out a frustrated sob, nails scraping against wood as her fingers curl. She continues to lay there, breaths panting out, when the soft sound of tinkling keys reaches her ears, the sound of a door opening and closing.

“Nes, I’m home. And we stopped for pastries on the way.”

The sound of that deep timbre draws out another whimper from her even as it slinks along her skin like a cool, soothing balm. It takes all of her willpower to push herself up off the bed, her steps wobbling beneath her as she pads out of the bedroom.

She finds Cassian standing in the kitchen, his back currently to her where he stands at the island. He looks so good with his dark curls pulled back into a bun, a soft looking cable knit sweater stretched over his wide shoulders, and his forearms on display where the sleeves are pushed up to his elbows. Just the sight of him has Nesta’s cunt clenching again, has a moan tumbling past her lips.

“Alpha,” Nesta sighs softly, pressing her thighs together.

Cassian whirls around, and Nesta moans again at finally having that hazel gaze on her again. Especially when those eyes flare, a flickering flame that echoes the fire in Nesta’s own veins. His nostrils flare, and even with the distance between them, Nesta can see the groan that reverberates in his chest as he takes in her scent.

“Oh shit.”

Nesta finally tears her attention away from Cassian at the new voice, surprised to find Azriel also standing in their kitchen. Cassian’s groan morphs into a growl, and he spins back toward his brother, fisting clenching at his sides as he firmly places his body between Azriel and Nesta. An alpha zeroing in on a threat, ready to do whatever it takes to protect what’s his.

“I’m going. I’m going,” Azriel assures him, holding his hands up in a surrender.

Nesta is sure that Azriel must be moving, that the front door must be opening and closing with his exit, but Nesta is no longer paying attention to him. All she cares about is Cassian’s attention returning to her, that darkened gaze of his pinning her in place. All she cares about is how strong his scent is having him this close again, how it floods her senses in the best way. All she cares about is the way he steps into her space, his large hands finding her jawline and lifting her face to his.

Cassian leans down, his breath skating across her lips, across the skin of her cheeks, and Nesta’s knees almost give out. She fists her fingers into the fabric of Cassian’s sweater, pressing her hips forward against his own and tilting her chin up higher still, trying to catch his lips with her own.

“Please. It hurts.”

“I know, sweetheart.” Cassian kisses her sweetly, humming as he trails his lips along her jaw and down her throat. “Let me take care of you.”

Nesta keens when Cassian’s teeth scrape over the scar on her neck, the remnant of his claiming of her, the mark of their accepted mating. His hands slide down to her thighs, hoisting her up and against him, and Nesta wraps her legs tightly around his waist. She tugs at the hair tie in Cassian’s hair until his hair tumbles free back down to his shoulders again, burying her fingers in the dark strands of his hair and using her grip to draw his mouth back to hers.

She sighs into the kiss when her back meets the pile of blankets she intricately arranged on the bed. Cassian presses her deeper into the softness of it all, his hips rocking against hers. She can feel the hard line of his cock through the fabric of his pants, and her hands reach desperately for the buckle of his pants. She slips her hand beneath the waistband, her fingers just barely grazing against his cock before Cassian pulls her hand away, pinning it back by her head.

“I thought I told you to let me take care of you,” Cassian tells her, grabbing her other wrist and pinning both her hands above her head with the grip of just one of his. “Now be my good girl and lie still.”

Cassian sits back on his haunches, Nesta legs splayed out over his thighs. His hands slide over her ankles, up her calves, along her thighs, but once he reaches the hem of the hoodie she’s wearing, they trace right back down. It’s a tantalizing tease of calluses against skin, Nesta biting her lip while she tries not to squirm, determined to be good for her alpha and keep still.

“And look at this nest my good girl made,” Cassian continues, squeezing her thighs on the next pass. “Did you make this just for me, sweetheart?”

Nesta nods her head before remembering herself. “Yes.”

“Good girl.”

Cassian reaches one of his hands behind his back, fisting in the fabric of his sweater and tugging it off. He tosses it aside and leans back down over Nesta. This time, his hands find the hem of the hoodie, sliding it up over her hip until it’s bunched at her waist.

“Nothing underneath? How naughty,” Cassian teases, shifting until he’s settled on his stomach between Nesta’s thighs.

Nesta whines even as one of her hands snaps down to bury amongst the dark strands of Cassian’s hair. It’s unfair, the sight of him. How far her legs have to spread to fit the wide berth of his shoulders and chest. How large his hands are where they grip her thighs, fingers digging into the flesh as he holds her open. The one curly strand of hair that falls forward and along his temple. That cocksure smirk and simmering gaze as he peers up at her and licks her lips.

Her hips try to buck up, her body keyed-up and desperate with every second that goes by without his touch where she really wants it, but Cassian’s hold is too firm. Just that display of strength has more slick dripping from her cunt, and Nesta is sure she’s already made a mess of herself and their bed.

But she doesn’t care.

All she cares about is the need thrumming beneath her skin. It writhes in her veins and begs. Begs for pleasure. Begs to be filled. Begs for her alpha.

“Want your knot,” Nesta pants, tugging at Cassian’s hair like that will get him to move. “Need it.”

“I know,” Cassian hums, nosing along Nesta’s inner thigh. “Let me take the edge off first.”

Nesta wants to protest again, but before she can, Cassian presses his mouth to her cunt, any words dying in the back of Nesta’s throat. His tongue is hot where it slides against her, his groan reverberating all the way down to her toes. Nesta tosses her head back with a moan when he slides his tongue over her again, tracing all the way up to her clit, but it morphs into a frustrated huff when Cassian pulls away.

“Eyes on me, sweetheart. I want you to watch the way you fall apart on my tongue.”

Nesta whimpers, and she needs to take a few breaths before she’s able to tilt her head back down, to meet Cassian’s gaze, the hazel of his eyes already swallowed by his blown out pupils.

“That’s my good girl.”

Cassian leans back in again, and this time, he devours her with a fervor. His mouth moves over her cunt like he’s a man starved, like she’s the last meal he’ll ever taste. Each circle his tongue traces over her clit has Nesta’s toes curling, and each time he fucks his tongue into her, her cunt clenches at the promise of the way she knows he’ll match that movement with his cock. She can do nothing but moan Cassian’s name, nothing but hold onto his hair, at the mercy of the way Cassian’s grip keeps her pinned, keeps her just the way he wants to have his way with her.

With her heat in full swing, it doesn’t take long before embers start to pool and burn low in her gut. She can feel herself climbing higher and higher, the blissful fog of pleasure starting to cloud her brain, as Cassian continues to eat her out. It takes everything within her to keep her eyes open, to keep watching Cassian. But when Cassian sucks her clits between his lips, she can’t hold out any longer. Her eyes squeeze shut, thighs snapping around Cassian’s head as her release tears through her, more slick rushing into Cassian’s mouth to swallow down with a groan.

She slumps back against the bed, sighing at the feel of Cassian pressing sweet kisses along the inside of her thigh. Those kisses trace upward, up over Nesta’s hip bone and stomach. He pushes the hoodie she’s wearing further up until he can tug it off completely, all without breaking his mouth’s contact from her skin.

“Cassian…”

Cassian hums rather than responding, his mouth closing over one of her breasts. Nesta cries out, arching up into him as Cassian’s tongue slides and swirls over her nipple. Those embers still burn low in her gut, stoked by the scrape of Cassian’s teeth over the sensitive skin of her breast. But despite the pleasure his mouth continues to build, it’s not enough. Still she needs more, wants more.

“Please. Cassian, please. I need–”

Nesta’s plea cuts off into a loud moan when Cassian sinks two fingers into her cunt. The long, thick line of them drag along the walls of her cunt, drawing out more slick with every thrust of them. Nesta’s entire body feels like it’s on pins and needles, her heat only adding to the intense pleasure of it all. And when Cassian curls his fingers, her every muscle tenses, cunt clenching down around Cassian’s fingers.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Can’t wait to have you squeezing my cock the way you’re squeezing my fingers.”

He switches his mouth’s attention to her other breast, his fingers continuing to drive into her cunt and stretch her. It’s almost unfair the way he knows her body so well, the way he’s able to work her exactly the way she likes, the way she needs. Everywhere his mouth touches, everywhere his fingers reach, has sparks ricocheting through Nesta’s whole body. And when Cassian turns his hand enough that he can press his thumb against her clit, adding to the pleasure, those sparks turn into a blaze as she goes tumbling right over the edge again.

“Gods, you’re so beautiful when you come,” Cassian tells her, sliding up her body enough that he can drag his mouth across her throat.

Nesta tilts her head to give him better access, her eyes fluttering when he finds that spot behind her ear. She whines when Cassian pulls his fingers free, hating that empty feeling, that ache that starts right back up again despite two orgasms already. But then Cassian is raising his hand toward Nesta’s face, dragging his fingers across her lips and smearing her own slick there.

“Now be a good girl and clean her alpha’s fingers for him.”

Nesta is all too happy to oblige. She sticks her tongue out, eagerly sliding it over the pad of Cassian’s fingers before sucking them into her mouth. She moans softly at the taste of her own slick blooming across her tongue, dragging and curling her tongue over Cassian’s skin as she swallows down every last drop. He presses his fingers deeper still, until Nesta's gagging around them, but still, she doesn't stop, desperate to please her alpha.

It’s all she can think about, that single thought fogging her mind, and she panics when Cassian pulls back, when he clambers off the bed and out of her perfectly good nest. Her hands reach out toward him frantically, a whine building in the back of her throat, but Cassian merely catches her wrist in his grasp, pressing a kiss to the center of her palm.

He focuses his attention on the buckle of his pants, quickly shoving them and his boxers down his legs, and any and all other thoughts eddy from Nesta’s mind once his cock finally bobs free. It’s already hard where it rests against one of Cassian’s strong thighs, and Nesta can already see where his knot has started to swell at the base, see where a bead of arousal glistens against the head. Just the sight has Nesta moaning again, has her cunt clenching and aching to be filled. She spreads her legs wider against the bed, raising her hips in open invitation.

Cassian chuckles softly at the display, fisting his cock lazily. “Do you need my knot, sweetheart?”

“Yes. Please, alpha. It hurts.”

“Well, we can’t have that.”

Cassian kneels back up onto the bed, between Nesta’s spread thighs. His calluses slide against her skin as he lifts her leg, hooking it around his hips as he settles. He drags the head of his cock across Nesta’s cunt, through the mess of slick pooled there, and Nesta’s entire body shudders. She can feel more slick rush from her, feel it coating Cassian’s cock, and she throws her head back with a moan when his cock presses teasingly against her entrance.

“Cass–”

She doesn’t even have to finish her plea, her voice choking off as Cassian snaps his hips forward and buries his cock. Everything within Nesta zeros to where they’re joined, the omega part of her keening at finally being so full, at having her alpha’s cock right where it belongs. But still, it’s not enough, still she wants more.

But if there’s one that Nesta has learned in her time together with Cassian’s, it’s that he always knows. Always knows how to play her body. Always knows exactly what she needs. He pulls his hips back just to snap them back again, grinding and pressing his cock deep with every forward thrust.

“Fuck you’re always so tight wrapped around my cock,” Cassian tells her, building up his pace. “But you were made to take it, weren’t you?”

Nesta can do nothing but moan, wrapping her legs tighter around Cassian’s waist and rocking her hips to meet each thrust. Every drag of his cock has her cunt clenching. Every deep press has her toes curling. Every stroke of his body working over hers has those flames burning through her veins cresting higher and higher.

“And you take me so well,” Cassian continues to praise, Nesta keening and arching at his words. “That’s it, Nes. Gods, nothing feels like your sweet cunt.”

Nesta claws desperately at Cassian’s shoulders, trying to pull him closer still. She can feel the tease of his knot, the stretch that it promises. The promise of being so completely filled of Cassian. And she wants.

“Please. Cassian, please,” Nesta begs, digging her heels into Cassian’s back. “Want your knot.”

“So pretty when you beg. Don’t worry. I’ll give you what you need.”

A few more thrusts and Cassian keeps true to his word. He slams his hips forward until his knot breaches and locks them together. Nesta screams, her entire body seizing up with her orgasm. She clenches down hard around Cassian’s cock and knot, her thighs shaking, as the warmth of Cassian’s seed floods her deep, adding to the pleasure and dragging out her release.

Cassian groans, rocking his hips shallowly and pressing deeper still. “What a good girl milking my knot. We’re not going to waste a single drop, are we?”

Nesta shakes her head, locking her legs tighter around Cassian, keeping him, his cock, his seed, right where it belongs. She sighs happily as she sinks back into the mattress, reveling and all but purring at the fullness, the warmth, the comfort that settles in her veins. Cassian focuses his attention on her throat, pressing gentle kisses along her skin. Nesta cards her own fingers through the dark strands of Cassian’s hair, humming when his lips trace over the mating scar. She feels like she’s floating, feels like she could fall back asleep just like this.

But her eyes snap back open again when Cassian pulls his hips back, his cock slipping free. That desperation claws back up her throat, tumbling past her lips as a whine. She can feel tears beginning to prickle at the corner of her eyes, and she tightens her grip on Cassian’s hair, trying to keep him there.

“No no no. Need your knot.”

“Fuck,” Cassian mutters under his breath.

One of Cassian’s large hands settles on her cheek, thumb stroking gently, and Nesta turns her head enough that she can lean into the touch, the way it soothes some of her desperation. She can hear rummaging to her left, what sounds like their bedside table opening and closing. Then something cool glides along the inside of her thigh, and when Nesta looks down, she finds one of her knotting toys now in Cassian’s hand.

He drags the toy over her cunt, coating the silicone in her slick. When he reaches her clit, he turns the toy on, Nesta tossing her head back and gasping at the vibrations. He traces a few circles before bringing the toy lower, sinking it into her cunt. Nesta moans at the intrusion, at now feeling those vibrations along the walls of her cunt, but Cassian doesn’t move. With a huff, she decides to take matters into her own hands, moving her hips and fucking herself down on the toy.

“Gods, look at you. So fucking beautiful, Nes.”

Nesta moans at the praise, and she tries to work her hips faster, squeezing down around the toy. She tilts her head back down again only to find Cassian now stroking his cock, his gaze pinned on where the toy disappears into Nesta’s cunt over and over. She whimpers, her bottom lip finding home between her teeth, and Cassian must be able to feel her attention, his lips twitching up into that tell tale smirk of his.

“See what you do to me, sweetheart? I’m already hard again.”

“Want the real thing. Want your knot.”

Cassian groans at her words. He pulls the toy free, tossing it aside, but Nesta doesn’t even get a chance to see where it lands, Cassian’s hands gripping her waist and flipping her over roughly. He raises her hips and leans forward, plastering his chest along her spine and pressing his lips against her ear.

“Hands on the headboard.”

Nesta moans as she obeys the command, fingers curling against the wood. Cassian’s knees kick her legs further apart, really spreading her wide. He slams his cock back into her cunt, quickly setting a rough and brutal pace before Nesta can adjust again to the girth of him, to the way he stretches her. Her fingers scrabble at the wood of the headboard, trying to hold herself up against the pleasure of it all, sparked by every snap of Cassian’s hips against her own.

“Pretty mate taking her alpha’s cock so well. One day I’ll work you up to taking my cock and that toy.”

The imagery is enough to have Nesta clenching down hard around Cassian’s cock, and she drops her head down between her shoulders with a choked off moan. It just mixes with the groans and grunts of Cassian behind her, with the obscene sound of his cock sliding through her slick, of skin against skin.

She tries to move her hips against the iron grip Cassian has on them, tries to meet his thrusts and his knot. “Cassian…”

“Fuck, keep moaning my name. You know that’s my favorite sound.”

“I need… I need…”

He continues to fuck into her hard, turning Nesta into little more than a delirious mess of moans and whimpers of his name. She can feel him everywhere. Feel where his fingers leave brands across her hips. Feel where his cock spears deep within her. Feel where his knot teases and catches but never breaches. It has her cunt fluttering and clenching around him, has her heart pounding in her chest in time with every knock of his hips against her ass.

“Need my knot again? Need to be filled again?”

“Yes!” Nesta cries out, that desperation clawing up her throat.

Cassian groans, the movements of his hips becoming more erratic. “I’ll make sure you’re absolutely dripping. Make sure my seed really takes. But first, I need you to come for me. Come all over my cock.”

One of his hands reaches under Nesta’s hip, finding her swollen clit and tracing tight circles over the bud. It’s all it takes for another orgasm to wash over Nesta like a crashing wave, the force of it leaving spots dancing behind her eyelids. Her back bows, Cassian’s grip the only thing holding her up as she convulses and shouts Cassian’s name.

With a groan of his own, Cassian sinks his knot into Nesta’s cunt, only adding to the pleasure blazing through her. She clenches around Cassian’s knot, moaning at the feel of Cassian’s cock twitching in response, more of his release filling her. The stretch and fullness is everything, aftershocks still rocking through her body until just bliss remains.

Nesta slumps back down against the bed, panting against the sheets as she catches her breath. She feels sated for the first time all morning, the ache in her body giving way to a pleasant buzz. She doesn’t even whine when Cassian pulls his cock free again, settling beside her on the bed. Instead she merely sighs softly when Cassian’s hand finds her hair, fingers softly carding through the sweaty strands and pushing them away from her face.

“You back with me, Nes?”

Nesta hums, turning her head enough that she can blink at Cassian properly. “For now.”

Cassian chuckles softly, the hazel of his eyes bright in the light that pours into their bedroom. He shifts close enough that he can press a sweet kiss into Nesta’s hair before clambering back off the bed. Nesta can’t find it within herself to move, just following him with her eyes as he goes over to the dresser, pulling out a pair of sweats and tugging them on.

He digs around in another of the drawers, and when he steps back over to the bed, his hands reach for her and gently tug her up into a seated position. He pulls an oversized t-shirt over her head, and once Nesta has pushed her arms through the sleeves, his hands shift under her thighs, gathering her up into his arms. He carries her with ease out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, setting her down on the kitchen counter.

“How was your trip?” Nesta asks, watching as Cassian grabs a glass, filling it with water.

“Drink,” Cassian tells her instead, holding out the glass expectantly.

Nesta rolls her eyes fondly, but she takes the glass from him, allowing the cool liquid to soothe her throat. Satisfied she’s staying hydrated, Cassian turns his attention toward the fridge, but he pauses his rummaging, turning back toward Nesta and squinting toward her. It’s almost adorable the way his eyebrows pinch, the way his lips quirk as he hums quietly, seemingly to himself.

But Nesta still huffs and crosses her arms. “And what’s that look for?”

“Trying to determine how long we have until the next wave hits. That will decide what exactly I can make for us.”

Heat floods Nesta’s cheeks, especially at that smirk of his now painted across Cassian’s face. It’s all alpha, male bravado and pride. She scowls at him, but that only seems to make his grin widen, hazel eyes sparking with amusement, with fondness. With love.

“I hate you,” Nesta tells him, even though there’s no bite behind the words.

“Love me,” Cassian corrects, grinning widely.

“Fine. That too.”

—

Taglist (let me know if you’d like to be added or removed): @moodymelanist @nesquik-arccheron @sv0430 @talkfantasytome @bookstantrash @eirini-thaleia @ubigaia @fromthelibraryofemilyj @luivagr-blog @lifeisntafantasy @superspiritfestival @hiimheresworld @marigold-morelli @sweet-pea1 @emeriethevalkyriegirl @pyxxie @dustjacketmusings @hallway5 @dongjunma @glowing-stick-generation @melonsfantasyworld @lady-nestas @goddess-aelin @melphss @theladystardust @a-trifling-matter @blueunoias @kookskoocie @wolfnesta @blurredlamplight @hereforthenessian @skaixo @jmoonjones @burningsnowleopard @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk @ofduskanddreams @rarephloxes @thelovelymadone @that-little-red-head @readergalaxy @thesnugglingduck @kale-theteaqueen @tarquindaddy @superflurry @bri-loves-sunflowers @lady-winter-sunrise @witch-and-her-witcher @fieldofdaisiies @freakingata

[void-chara]

It is impossible to outrun your own reflection.

subz celeste au for @mcytblraufest reverse big bang!! i was teamed with the wonderful @happy-mountain-goats, whos fic you can read here! the fic is absolutely amazing and im so so happy with how it turned out!!!

subz is transfeminine genderqueer in this au, and uses she/he pronouns! awesome!! the au also features vitalasy as theo, and zam as mr oshiro. i have plans for even more characters in the au, but none of the others made it into the fic

closeups, alternate versions, and more rambling under the readmore!!

originally i only submitted the second art piece, the chase, for the event. but i really wanted to make more, so while lils was writing the fic, i also drew another thing, the campfire scene! i think you can kinda see me improving in the time between working on these two lol

versions without all the blending layers i used for shading and stuff!

close ups!!

it doesnt show up in any of the art, but i also imagine subzs hair changes colors the same way as madelines to indicate dashes! id keep the recharge color as white, but have dashless as green, one dash as a redtoned brown, and double dash as either purple or red.

Part of Subzs (havent thought of a silly name for her the way there is for badeline) hair is meant to sort of float around her and almost flicker, resembling fire. the glowy bits inside were also inspired by lava lamps, cause i thought itd look cool. despite the fire motif, i imagine shes cold when you touch her, and doesn’t produce her own body heat at all. like touching a mirror! shes a reflection, after all.

in contrast, fused/reunited/level 2 subz(the pink hair madeline equivalent) is actually really warm, almost uncomfortably so to anyone who touches her, but shes fine! just means she doesnt have to worry about the mountain chill so much. i think her hair also does the same fire like movement as Part of Hers does. also, i gave Part of Subz some more inhuman traits with the horns, and id like for something like that to also carry over to the reunited subz.

ive had this au for a while, i think i first started thinking about it shortly after subzs celeste playthrough? but i hadnt developed it that much or done much with it, and it was so fun to brainstorm ideas together with lils!! his fic turned out so so so good it makes me so happyy!!

Theres even more ideas and stuff that didnt make it in to the fic, and i intend to at some point do more with the au, if i ever have time lol

[telleroftime]

This is me projecting but...

Yknow how lightning storms can happen with volcanic activity? Well, imagine a reader who's terrified of storms, just the clap of thunder makes them slip into panic, it paralyzes them, living in the castle when one of the Koopa Kingdom's regular storms hit.

Just how would Bowser react to that?

This was perfect timing because I actually started answering this during a thunderstorm where there was lightning every other second (not at all what I'm used to). Probably would have gotten this out sooner if I wasn't writing on data at the time.

Anyways! Angst my beloved -

Bowser isn't one to fear things. He never has been. He's always the source of the fear. From scaring people just to get his way, to moments when fear was truthfully not his intention, he knows he's frightening. It's why he was so enamoured by you. You were never really afraid of him. Sure, you had flinched away occasionally, but anyone startled would do so. You weren't afraid of him.

You were also not afraid of his kingdom and you voiced just that. The Koopa Kingdom? Beautiful? Bowser was certain he misheard you when you said it the first time. And the second time. But you meant every word you said and that had his tail wagging for days.

Naturally, you were cautious around fire. Even more so around the lava rivers that replaced where water would normally flow. However, you adapted to his kingdom. You adapted to the Darklands. It was like a second home to you and it made a warmth spread within Bowser's chest every time he thought of it.

So, when a thunderstorm rolls in, something that Bowser is very used to with how 'hostile' of an environment his land offers, he doesn't so much as bat an eye.

You, on the other hand, are handling it so much worse.

You had been planning on getting some work done when the sky turned dark a lot sooner than what you knew of the day-night cycle. It wasn't supposed to be night for a couple of hours still, and yet you were forced to turn on the magic lamps just to see what was in the room. This was certainly new, and checking your watch made no light of what was going on.

You only realised what was happing a moment too late when the sudden pitter-patter of afternoon rain turned to a downpour. It was a sudden whiplash, and the flash of light coming in from the window did little for your already rushing mind.

The thunder that hit next was all too deafening.

It hadn't taken long for your hands to start trembling and your blood ran cold long before the following flashes. The adrenaline followed quick and it set thick within your veins as you rushed out and away from the study.

You had no goal, walking aimlessly through the castle. Your eyes were watery, your vision hazy. Each crash of thunder felt all the more amplified by the wide hallways and corridors.

You never fully register the castle staff looking at you in worry, a few rushing to fetch the king, the rest getting out of your way.

When Bowser does find you he's all but panting. He was told that something was wrong with you and he dropped everything to rush in search of you. You have this twisted sort of smile you're putting up for him - the forced sort to try and ease his worry and achieving the opposite.

You see him talk but you don't quite hear anything. If you had it your way you would force your eyes shut and forget about the storm raging outside. Everything you've seen of thunderstorms - every warning about them in swirling in your mind like the rain pouring outside.

It only takes you flinching at the sound of thunder to let Bowser know what the issue is.

He's not the best at comforting people. He knows that. You know that. He's also never seen you like this. He knows the expression from other people - that fear-stained look that will definitely haunt him in the future. He doesn't know what to do.

Though it's not like he needs to know when you walk up to him and into his embrace. He can feel you quaking against his chest. He can feel your hands shake against his scales.

He would have long since barked orders at the staff staring at you if he wasn't for the fact he wasn't sure whether his booming voice would make it better or worse.

You barely register him picking you up and pulling you into him. You feel his hand cup the side of your face, pulling you that little bit closer. That's when the next snap of thunder is muffled. It's quieter. Between hearing Bowser's heartbeat with one ear against his chest, the other pressed to his hand, and your own shaky breaths, the sound of the storm is quieter.

If only by a little bit.

Bowser gives you time to cry. He hates to see you like this. If he could, he would have ordered the storm to be locked up in the dungeons. Of course, he's smarter than that.

It doesn't stop him from grumbling at it.

He's never hated the thunderstorms as much as he does now.

When you do eventually calm down, almost parallel to the storm's own quieting, Bowser will make sure you have fully calmed down.

Naturally, he wouldn't trust your own judgement. If you say that you are okay he will not believe it. He will not allow you out of his sight until a day after the storm. He'd nuzzle into you, huff and puff to get your expression to lighten. Anything to hear you laugh and that much more to ease the marks of worry from your face.

He'd disregard his duties if he had to, and he'd spend hours simply covering your ears and sheltering you from the thunderstorm.

Bonus headacanon:

I feel like Bowser wouldn't be that good at comforting, but he's be exceptional at distracting. He'd take you to the deepest part of the castle where the noise of thunder barely reaches and sit you there. He'd drag his piano if he had to. He'd sing for you. He'd play for you. He'd do anything to keep your mind from the storm.

And a final little tidbit because I love science and this counts as science:

Lightning near volcanoes tends to happen exclusively during eruptions, at least that's the most common form of it. With the Darklands being covered and - well - dark, I like to interpret that as pillars of eruption clouds layered over the sky. With the geography being how it is, lava rivers constantly in a molten state, I don't doubt the Koopa Kingdom experiences multiple eruptions a day. I love interpreting the thunderstorms coming from a collection of volcanoes errupting, sending waves of static-filled clouds in the form of potent thunderstorms.

(Also, fantasy aside, a fun fact about eruptions is that right before they happen - as volcanoes release moisture and ash into the air - there's a chance of mud rain which I love to assume is the Koopa Kingdom's version of hail. Well, that's not to say they wouldn't experience hailstorms, because they would. Those happen too.)

Apologies for the very messy answer to the ask. I know full well I changed tenses a few times within this post. I'm too tired to edit this at the moment and I don't want to reread it. I will later, maybe.

[box-architecture]

Sam sipped a fire res and darted through the lava, ignoring the pistons as he had been doing of late. It was easier this way, keeping outsiders from getting in and seeing his prisoner like this.

Dream didn't immediately respond upon Sam spilling into his cell. The blankets and pillows Sam had pulled from his bed for Dream had taken the rough shape of a burrow, hiding the body wedged between the cauldron and the chest.

"Dream," Sam called, and a scarred face peeked through the burrows opening. "I've returned."

Dreams tendrils clicked. Sam silently cursed the lack of knowledge surrounding Warden hybrids; an aspect of his prisoner he was denied full understanding of.

"Welcome back, Sam." Dream said after a moment, and something inside Sam pinged in strange satisfaction.

"Has it started, yet?" He asked. Dream grimaced.

"Sort of. Its… difficult. But I'm taking care of it. " His face pulled away from the burrows opening, and Sam immediately strode forward to kneel before the pillows and find Dream again.

His prisoner was curled up in the softest blanket Sam had on his bed. He squirmed as he cupped his chest, massaging it gently in an attempt to loosen the pressure. Milk occasionally spilled out, trailing down his body and making it glisten in an almost obscene manner, but he knew it wasn't the large flow necessary for Dream to find relief.

Dream paused, shuffling back as much as he could wedged in the small, comforting space.

"It's okay, Sam." He said quietly. "I'm handling it, now. Quackity was an idiot, but I know how to manage a heat."

Sam's eyes drifted to the curve of Dream's ass, where he knew he'd find the dildo he had offered Dream, teal-faced, before he had gone.

He had to leave prison for a few days to…deal with Quackity, but someone in heat did best when they were filled. The mold of his cock was a hastily made thing meant to take the edge off of Dream, but even as he had left, something in him had bristled at the idea of Dream being satisfied with only a fake, silicone version of Sam. The toy was too simple. It wouldn't know to shift or thrust if Dream needed the extra stimulation. It was likely Dream had been forced to go back and forth between maneuvering the fake cock so it would properly fuck him and squeezing his tits to lessen the ache.

He wasn't meant to do this alone; it was incredibly inefficient. He was making a mess of himself and his sheets, and then Sam would have to grab more, leave longer, when he was supposed to be watching Dream. And since it was a mate's duty to attend to their partner's needs, Sam would simply have to step in and be what Dream needed.

(-until Dream found someone else was a thought viciously stifled. Dream would not be finding someone else. He was going to stay in prison, with Sam. He didn't need another partner to take over. Sam with his knowledge and capabilities could very likely be the best person for the job, so it was better for everyone if Sam, and Sam only, attended to Dream. This was how it should be.)

He lifted a pillow and scooted inside, shifting his armor into his inventory to prevent Dream from getting pricked by the thorns. The blanket roof had to be pushed back so he could sit down, exposing Dream to the light and causing him to flinch. His tendrils clicked.

"What are you-"

"You need help." Sam cut him off. "I'm going to massage your chest and create a better flow."

It sounded neat and efficient to Sam, but Dream sputtered.

"You can't just- its my heat, Sam, I've got it under control."

"I can make it better," Sam argued. He scooped Dream up, ignoring his prisoners squeak in favor of positioning him to sit in Sam's lap. "I've worked with heats before."

"You've worked with creepers, Sam. That isn't the same thing as a Warden-ah-!"

Dream broke off into moan. His hips shifted on instinct, grinding against the toy and against Sam's clothed cock. Sam made an approving noise, squeezing his left tit just a little harder.

"That's it, just like that." He murmured. Dreams heart glowed through his chest, and Sam traced it with the thumb of his other hand before cupping the other tit. Dream made a broken noise.

"Sam…"

There was bruising around Dream's right nipple from Quackity's improper handling. He worked delicately, trying to avoid the spots where it was most visible, but Dream's breath hitched as he tensed, and Sam felt frustration at his failure.

"The healing pots didn't work here."

Dream turn his head down. "They don't. Heal everything anymore."

Sam flinched. He knew why. "Oh."

It was quiet, then. Dream stared at the hands still cupping his chest. He didn't look angry, just… resigned. Somehow that was worse than the accusations he could hurl.

"I can finish this myself." He spoke hollowly. It was wrong. It wasn't allowed. Dream wasn't meant to sound like that. It lacked the fire required for his prisoner. It made Sam want to push, to stroke, to do anything to put the light back in his eyes.

(The true danger of his prisoner.)

"No." Sam shook his head. Dream suddenly looked up, startled, as Sam leaned in to his chest. "If I can't take care of you with normal means, I'm capable of improvising."

The moan that Dream gave him when he began to drink from him was nothing short of exhilarating. He made sure to be gentle with his teeth, never pressing down more than absolutely nessecary. Pride shot through him as Dream arched into him rather than away, and when Sam brought a hand to his back to push him further in, Dream went oh so willingly.

"Sam, Sa-am, SAM-!"

His prisoner's cries were an intense, heady drug, made further by the taste of him on his tongue. It was so much better this way; Dream's milk wouldn't be wasted by the floor or in Quackity's foolish get-rich schemes. Sam was someone who was capable of appreciating what he was being given. Not as a novelty, but as another piece of Dream for him alone to understand.

"Sammy, please." Dream began to sob, and Sam groaned around his nipple and thrusted up on instinct. His Dream. Just as before. Just as he should be.

He pulled his mouth away from Dream's chest, licking the drops he missed thoroughly until he felt satisfied. It was a simple task to remove the dildo from Dream's slick hole, and then he found himself wearing too many clothes for what he wanted, so he lifted Dream off his lap to quickly undress.

The instant he set Dream down though, trembling hands latched onto his arm.

"Wait! Don't leave, please." There was a wild look in Dream's eye, a frantic buzz underneath his skin that made Sam's heart lurch uncomfortably. "I'll be good, I swear. Or- or just leave the toy, at least. Until my heat ends. So I can last."

"I'm staying right here, Dream." He said, surprised by the evenness of his own voice. He felt like he was teetering on the edge of something he couldn't identify, only fearing the height of the drop. "I'm going to remove my clothes for easier access."

Dream stared at him, wide eyes searching for the lie. Sam reached out to gently pull him off, then shrugged off his shirt, wiggling out of his pants and folding them both neatly next to the messy pile Dream had of his own clothes just outside of the pillow den. He quickly pulled Dream back into his arms, and his prisoner hid his face in his neck.

"I have you, Dream," Sam murmured. "You're mine. My duty. I'm not leaving."

Dream made a small noise and clung tighter. Sam rubbed soothing circles into his back, until Dream was no longer stiff, but a puddle of comfort.

"Good boy." Sam praised without thinking, only to short circuit, barely registering Dreams answering whine and subsequent attempt to sink himself on Sam's cock.

"Sammy," Dream begged. "Sammy Sammy Sammy-"

It was if the nickname made a mess of the chemistry in his head, because suddenly everything else didn't matter. He lined himself up and pushed in, shuddering when Dream clenched down, tried to take him in deeper and more. His prisoner ignore his attempts to take it slow, refusing to cease his rocking hips until he buried himself to the hilt, and only then did Dream lock his legs around him. He gave a content sigh.

I might actually write it out later but I'm too zoomy so I wanna say that Sam fucks him until Dream suddenly calls yellow, which makes Sam stop abruptly, both because of the color call but also because they never established any system for that beforehand because it never occurred to him to, and he feels super conflicted about that, but also he's been told to Stop so he's listening.

And Dreams other tit is still full and while they're fucking its become painful, so he's asking Sam to fix it, and of course Sam will. And while Sam drinks from him he feels Dream's hands in his hair cradling him, and some part of him is like I Should Protest That I'm The Warden And In Control but the bigger part of him is just. Pleased. Pleased and happy and holding Dream

And he asks quietly if that's better and when they fuck it feels Different and More and Dream is calling him Sammy and Sam is going insane but he doesn't want to go too fast because then he'll have a harder time holding Dream

[burnwater13]

Grogu and Din Djarin at their homestead on Nevarro, The Mandalorian, Season 3, Episode 8, The Return

Part 3 of Zombies? Did someone say Zombies

Din Djarin put his targeting scope up agains his visor and focused in on the shambling mass. It had started to turn up toward the cabin, but the uphill trajectory seemed to be slowing it down even more. That was good news. As was the fact that the ‘skin’ of the thing seemed to be a pretty large tarp. 

Would a zombie do that? Use something to hide itself from sight? He doubted it. But then what the hell did he know about zombies? He laughed at himself and began to adjust the scope so he could get a better view considering how dark it was, when he felt something grab his leg. Dank Farrik! 

Grogu coo’d and chirped at him and the Mandalorian resisted the urge to give his son the lecture of a lifetime. He told himself that he didn’t want to give their location away, but he was pretty sure all he’d say were things better left unsaid. 

He took a moment, sucked in a deep breath and sighed very, very slowly. 

“Grogu. I told you to stay put. Whatever that thing is, it’s not a zombie, okay? It’s probably just Fennec playing an elaborate trick on us.”  Uff. This thing was out of hand. 

Grogu shook his head. 

Din Djarin put a hand on his hip and gave his son ‘the look’. Grogu drooped like a flower that needed water. Dank Farrik! How did the kid manage to look so adorable when he was being such a pest? 

The Mandalorian relented. He carefully picked Grogu up and then handed him the scope to look through. Once he switched it around and pointed it in the correct direction he let Grogu actually look through it. It was about time they covered scopes in their lessons.

Grogu made some tiny adjustments and then coo’d a long, low sound that made the hairs on the back of the Mandalorian’s neck stand up. 

“Let me take a look.” Din spoke as he tried to take the scope from Grogu. Uff. The kid had an iron grip. 

“Okay, tell me what you see then.” 

The best bounty hunter in the Outer Rim and he couldn’t get his own son to hand back a scope. He’d think about what that meant when they were finished dealing with shambling hulks. 

Grogu began a long soft series of coo’s, chirps, whistles and clicks. Din listened patiently. By the end of lecture, he was pretty sure that he understood Grogu describing the critter under the tarp as having dozens of tiny feet. 

The Mandalorian had heard of a species of giant milipyropedes. They were like giant fire breathing salamanders with hundreds of tiny little tarsi that also burned the ground they walked on. Had someone found one on the lava flats and thrown a tarp over it? Why not just shoot it? Plus, those critters weren’t even native to Nevarro. Dank Farrik.

“Grogu, please hand me the scope. I need to take a look.” 

Grogu chirped and smiled and handed his dad the scope without an argument. 

Uff. 

The Mandalorian put the scope back up to his visor and realized quickly what a mistake that was. Grogu had smeared the lens with whatever he had on his hands. How the heck had the kid been able to even tell that the critter had feet? He put the scope away and decided to trust his gut. 

“Okay buddy. We’re going down there and we’re going to see just what sort of critter is there. Zombie or not, we’ve got to know before we can do anything. I may need you to use the Force on it. Do you think you can do that?”

Din Djarin had to immediately suppress the urge to laugh. Grogu was scowling at him as if he’d asked him if he still liked frog stew for lunch. The Mandalorian had instantly heard Grogu’s ‘Of course I do, Dad! What kind of crazy question was that?!’ and couldn’t help but find that funny.

“I know. You can. Come on.”

With Grogu tucked against his chest on the left side, leaving his right hand free if he needed his side arm, the Mandalorian began a slow, stealthy approach toward the shambling mass. Grogu seemed tense and ready to spring the ‘magic hand thing’ on whatever critter it really was until they both heard the sound. 

It was a strange, chittering sound. The Mandalorian had to admit he’d never heard anything quite like it. Because under the chittering there was the sound of metal scraping against bone. Was it some sort of half living thing, like that spider tank thing from Mandalore? The Armorer had said that the cyborg that operated it was killed off and that they hadn’t found any more of them. Dank Farrik!

“Okay buddy. See if you can just grab the thing that’s covering it. Maybe it can’t be exposed to starlight or something like that. On my mark.”

The Mandalorian worked his way around so he would be higher up the rise than the creature and gave Grogu the signal to remove the covering. 

Grogu had every right to be proud of how quickly he did what his dad asked him to do, the Mandalorian reflected. If anything was lacking int he execution it was Din Djarin forgetting to tell Grogu where to put the damn thing once he’d removed it from the creature! Grogu, being Grogu, had pulled the covering right to them. Now Din was fighting his way out of the thing while Grogu was still holding it in place.

“Buddy! Drop it. Just drop it!” 

Grogu giggled and did as his dad demanded. The Mandalorian looked at the creature that had gotten them out of the cabin in the middle of the night fully armed and began to laugh. 

The four Anzellans stopped in their tracks and had turned to face the two of them. The Mandalorian didn’t have to hear them to know they were complaining as they were begging him to keep ‘the bad baby’ away from them. Grogu, for his part, was trying to get out of Din’s hold so he could rush over to the small droid smiths and do exactly what they were afraid he would do. Hug them tight.

“Grogu, buddy, stop wiggling. What are you folk doing out this way?” Din asked the Anzellans as they had stopped talking.

“Delivery. Lady pay us. Make droids for you. Hollow. Bad baby. No touchy.”

What? 

Din walked over to the pile of stuff the Anzellans had left on the ground as they rushed to put a safe distance between themselves and Grogu. 

“Grogu, what do you think this is?”

Grogu’s focus on the Anzellans was finally broken and he turned his attention to the pile of stuff at the Mandalorian’s feet. He started giggling and pointing.

“Dank Farrik!” 

Clearly the lady in question was Fennec Shand. Din could make out that the Anzellans had made two ‘costumes’ for her little joke. One was a Mandalorian sized pit droid and the other looked like a miniature version of the Mandalorian’s armor. 

“Remember that time at Peli Motto’s when you were sick and you asked me to get you your toys, blanket, and the ball? Fennec said if I kept hopping up to get you things I’d turn into a pit droid? I guess she decided to follow up on that.”

Grogu began to giggle more and Din Djarin finally put him down so he could run over and examine the costumes. With Grogu occupied, the Mandalorian walked over to Anzellans with a request of his own. After a minute or two of haggling and a promise to bring the tarp back to their shop for them, the droid smiths promptly made their escape. They obviously didn’t trust Grogu to stay interested in the two costumes.

Din was just glad that the whole zombie thing was over. He didn’t want to know what it took to deal with a real zombie or even if there were real zombies. Knowing Fennec that had just been part of the elaborate joke.

Boba’s palace, Tatooine

“Administrator Shand? You have a delivery?” Major Domo brought Fennec a large box that was ornately decorated. 

“Is there a tag on it?” Fennec asked suspiciously. It wasn’t her naming day and she didn’t celebrate the anniversary of her birth, largely because she didn’t know it.

“No, Administrator Shand, there is not.” 

The Major Domo handed her the box and stepped smartly away.

“Well, Fennec, it looks like you have a secret admirer. Go ahead. Open it.” 

Daimyo Fett was enjoying how the arrival of this package was messing with her normal impervious nature. Normally she was unflappable. But right now, she was flapping and he found that very amusing. 

“Sure, Boss. An admirer. Those are always the people who send me things unexpectedly.” She poked at the box with a knife that came out of thin air.

“Fennec Shand, afraid of a box. Never thought I would see that day.” Boba Fett chuckled. 

“In your dreams. Boss.” Fennec replied and then quickly cut through the ribbon that secured the top of the box to its base.  Then she quickly yanked the top off and waited for something to happen. 

The room was silent in anticipation. 

Then Fennec began to laugh. She was loud and the laughter didn’t fade for at least a minute.

“What under the two suns are you cackling like a Dathomirian witch about?” Boba Fett groused at his second in command.

Fennec couldn’t explain it. She just pulled up the object from the box.

Boba Fett began to laugh. He had to wipe his eyes and then he had to turn away. He couldn’t stop laughing. He’d have to spend extra time in the bacta tank that night. 

“Hey! We’re gonna be twins! Boonta Eve won’t know what hit it!” Peli Motto called out as she stepped into the throne room and saw what Fennec was holding.

“Did Mando send that to ya? He said he was cookin’ up something special. That sure is it! I’ve always wanted a sister!” Peli continued.

Then Fennec did what she did best. She disappeared and they wondered if maybe she wasn’t actually a Dathomirian witch after all!

@marcus-is-my-muse Here it is, part 3

[cubitodragon-moved]

Part 1 of ????, this is a plot bunny that won’t leave me alone. Relevant content warnings to be added as parts progress. (Expected to be jossed by future canon events, but I wanna write it anyway.) AU for some thoughts on Forever, his mission, and just what sort of things might have been left behind by the Federation in the past.

QSMP Fic: Breath of Fire, 1/??

by Farli

Summary: Forever. The Nether. And unexpected discoveries.

——————

He really hated the Nether.

And the Nether had wasted little effort letting him know the feeling was entirely mutual.

Somewhere in the midst of a maze’s worth of thick netherbrick walls, Forever let himself slide until he was seated on a broken step. He could hear the nervous pad of Walter Bob’s paws as the former(?) Employee kept track of the monsters below them. They had, somehow, given the horde the slip between collapsing forest and abandoned fortress, and he meant to make good use of the brief time afforded them. Silently, if at all possible.

Even so, the blond was struggling to catch his breath in the frigid cold. Ashes and frost coated his hair and face, latched into his lashes, but he didn’t dare waste what reserves he had to wipe them away.

It should have been hot here. The expected rivers of lava still flowed, lighting purgatory’s depths in oranges that didn’t match the dull surroundings. Burning fires dotted the landscape — and some hadn’t even been started by him with his mines! Yet the territory they’d fled through was chilling, right down to the bone, and there wasn’t a lick of soulsand in sight. As though heat had forgotten how it was supposed to burn.

Something flickered in the corner of one eye, and Forever’s grip on his scythe tightened reflexively - until he saw the stained pages held out shakily by his companion.

[ We should go now, Mr. President. If we are quiet, the Bugs won’t notice our passage. ]

His body screamed in protest as he heaved his way back to his feet, flag adjusted where it had remained slung about one shoulder. The Brazilian would have liked nothing more than to rest a while longer, but the true rest his body craved wasn’t possible here. And he had to mind his supplies - he’d been unsparing with his mines out of the gate, but Forever had learned at a cost that he couldn’t afford to maintain that pace. Not when he was still without less for either of his objectives.

And Richas and the other egg children were far more important than the mysteries of ‘dark matter’.

YOU SHOULD NOT BE HERE, MR. PRESIDENT.

Forever could feel an icy cold finger trail down his spine as he recalled the memory of the strange text…warning? threat? Whatever it was, the red text had preceded full disconnection from the Federation’s network.

And now Forever was alone.

Well, alone, save for the presence of Walter Bob, who now stared expectantly at him from beneath the shaggy remnants of the hairstyle Mike had cut for him so many months ago. Forever nodded, then gestured; let’s go, lead the way. Speech would only bring back unwanted attention from their stalkers.

They crept through the abandoned halls with care, pausing every time the hallways opened out into branching paths.

Up and out was a trap, the ghastly hum of Blazes offset by the buzz of Mosqo wings audible beyond the dark brick ceiling. So down they went instead, the worker’s jacket somehow still bright in the shadows. Forever followed close behind, pausing now and again to glance back the way they came — and walked straight into Walter Bob’s back.

Curses tripped off his tongue on instinct before Forever’s mouth snapped shut (he could have sworn he heard a distant ‘language!’ audibly object from somewhere in the back of his mind). Ingrained habit had him slipping a fresh totem from a side pouch into his offhand, before he peered past his companion.

And inhaled, as he recognised the familiar smooth pallor of white quartz that the Federation favoured so.

Ahead of them the netherbrick had slowly given way to blackstone and chiselled white, with parts of the former roofing structure collapsed or missing entirely. Warped netherwood fungus crawled across the invading nylium, the turquoise wood sprouting in places, while thick vines crept across the walls. Taking in the rest of their surroundings, the pair stepped cautiously into the abandoned space. Forever not once turning his eyes away from where white was interrupted by squares of black concrete - correction, ‘dark matter’, though Forever had yet to discern the apparent difference.

A glance his way wasn’t immediately noticed, until a paw waved his way. Then a look was shared and unspoken consensus met: Walter Bob went left and Forever went right, carefully running the edge of his scythe blade along the wall. This was a place worth exploring.

Had this been an office, or a meeting hall? Or was it all that was left of something that had been much larger, once?

The void blocks were muted, muffled, while the quartz hissed - not quite the shriek of nails on chalkboard, if only because Forever did not push harder than necessary - this was the last place they needed to attract attention to, after all. At one point the scythe even sliced into a forgotten wall poster, curled in on itself from all corners, long wiped clean of its Federation Motto by time and neglect.

Then, the scythe snagged suddenly. Forever turned, tugging, then pulling harder as he realised it was caught on — wood? He pulled again, once, twice, until the blade came free and the remnants of a door fell apart behind it, showing entry to a shallow corridor. One dotted by black squares that ran its length haphazardly, coming to a stop at an all-white wall. Tattered black banners were obscured by unfriendly foliage.

And below them, the familiar grey metal of a warp plate, the dull purple energy pulsing: an active teleport.

“Walter Bob!” The name was called in a strangled hiss, but Forever couldn’t hold back the wave of…not excitement, exactly, though relief wasn’t the word either. But there was a satisfaction of sorts to finally find something shaped like a lead, and he waved again to get the Worker’s attention.

“It was AB, right?” Spoken more to himself than his companion, Forever’s voice pitched louder than he intended. before ducking his head and pushing forwards past the broken door. He recalled the theories, that the blocks might be remnants of where their children has passed through - could that apply here, too? Callused hands pushed aside the vines with effort: they were stiff and unyielding, not unlike the former inhabitants of the abandoned building.

“Walter Bob! Here! I think we need to take this warp!” He gestured to the wall and its banners as he looked back over his shoulder, before his scythe was readied, and Forever stepped onto the plate.

Paws rushed up behind him, just fast enough to catch the last sparkles of a completed teleport, and the bear-like being heaved a sigh in his wake. He could not fault the President for his haste, but this was not a place where they could throw caution to the wind. He glanced back, perpetually worried out of habit, before he paused. A hesitation he did not full understand taking hold.

Walter Bob stopped fully, and took a moment to assessing the banners by himself.

The slanted leg of the A on the left banner wasn’t hard to identify, but the right one was choked, vines reluctant to release the fabrics. But eventually, the straight back of a familiar letter was revealed by impatient fingers. And the curved beginnings at the top and base earned a small gasp.

The A was unmistakeable. But..

If a white furred being could turn pale, Walter Bob would surely have turned transparent as the vines collapsed, unfurling the right-side banner in full.

This was not a plate that would lead to Protocol AB.

The banners fluttered, boldly proclaiming the letters: AD.

Somewhere else, Forever stepped off the warp plate.

And fell.

—= tbc =–

[handsomethrowrug]

Monologue - A Form of Lava and Smoke

The volcano was quiet. Each faction of the Army was out completing their own tasks. Scar had opted that they lay low for a while to draw attention away from them. Let the Guard think that they had given up, and allow the different groups to recoup, recover, and ready themselves for any future plans.

What it also meant was that no one had a reason to enter the cave of the volcano. Scar could put an idea he had into practice. If it worked, then it would be a useful skill to keep close to his chest. If it did not, then it would not affect anything.

The Great Kings could take on different forms based on how they wanted their presence to be noticed. From the lessons he remembered, it was through breezes in the wind, or the twinkling of stars. He had overheard talk of Kion seeing Mufasa in the clouds, perhaps through some manipulation of cloud cover and light - without seeing it himself, it was hard to speculate the logistics of it.

But Scar was fire. Compared to wind, it was more tangible and formed; and it was far closer than any star could be. If he was able to use the flames of the volcano to create a likeness of his head, what's to say he couldn't go further than that? He could be summoned outside the volcano, and when his time ran out, his consciousness returned to the lava. But what if he used the lava to create a form? Something far smaller should last longer than the appearance he took on normally, and if he could somehow recreate his own form - even if it was ghostly - he would have the luxury of movement.

-

And so, he set to work. First, he had to learn how to properly manipulate the lava and gauge what could be reasonably controlled. He spent hours focusing on the slow, looping movement of the magma rising and falling within the depths. He had to learn just how far down he could reach until even his spirit, intangible as it was, recoiled at the intense heat.

He learned that, though the was a deep pool of lava where his spirit resided, this was not the main source. There was a second chamber much further down, which helped explain why animals could enter the cave without being overwhelmed with the heat. The larger body of magma was not one that was as active, and the threat of the volcano erupting by itself was almost non-existent. It meant that the smaller source of lava, coupled with plenty of openings, ensured that the temperature stayed somewhat bearable in the cavern. If anything, it might come as a welcome retreat in the grips of colder nights.

In time, the lava could be swayed back and forth, like he was still alive and able to flex his claws into the dusty earth. Then, he tried to raise it up and down until a small orb could be thrown just above the surface of the lava to drop right back in.

The process was frustratingly exhausting, despite how minimal the work felt when described. It took days to build up the endurance to throw that small ball higher and higher into the air.

The target was to hit the floor of the cavern. The ball needed enough air to go above ground-level, but have a consistent arc to land in one piece. While it is easy to throw a ball over your head, it is harder to consistently do so in an atmosphere with more resistance than just air.

Then, finally, Scar succeeded. The blob of lava was spat out and, with it, his will. It reacted as soon as it hit the colder stone, hissing and evaporating without leaving any sign of scorching or staining. Instead, a black clump-like shape remained. It shuddered, struggling to gain some sort of control over its rigid movements. But then, something long emerged from the back - a tail. The clump moved again, arching a back that it previously did not have so it could stretch aching limbs. Finally, the front shook, smoke swirling around to give the dead lion's mane a more familiar shape.

The form was flimsy, despite lacking a true physical presence, and his legs gave way from under him. It was irritating, but nothing to be ashamed of. This was the first attempt. Once he knew what to expect, the transition would be much smoother and less awkward to create. He would simply need to wait, rebuild the strength, and try standing again. It was exactly what he used to do when he had genuine back problems. He could manage this.

A few minutes passed, and the spirit shakily rose up on all four paws. From here, Scar noticed how his ghostly form presented his pelt as a charred black rather than an earthen brown. Given the manner his body was destroyed, it was little surprise. At least he didn't bear any obvious bite marks.

His head turned from left to right to test his balance before he made some cautious steps forward. There was less weight on his paws. He made no sound, yet there was a brief presence of a burnt paw-print that faded after a few seconds. How curious that this was the mark that could make an impact, yet Scar himself couldn't casually press his paw against a rock without exerting a considerable level of concentration to give the paw physical presence - something that would be too tiring to maintain the full time.

Once he was sure that his legs had sufficient strength to hold him upright, Scar tested pacing the width of the chamber. Then, he ran it. It was thrilling to feel some semblance of life again, even if it was only temporary sensation. But even this was proving tiring. He turned just in time to see the tip of his tail vanish as the smoke lost its form. It was a good indicator for the future to have a 'timer'. It would be expected that the more he practiced, the longer he could stretch this out - and the longer he could do that, the further from the volcano he could travel. Maybe there would be something of use to find, or someone of interest to meet... Or maybe it would be simply good to see the world outside the volcano before it became a plain of fire and devastation.

Scar chuckled as the form evaporated into the air.

Oh... This will be fun.

[sammysdewysensitiveeyes]

"That is where we begin — in the fires of creation."

Sebastian snorted.  “Rather a flowery way of putting it.  But I suppose you have a point.  Ancient volcanoes contributed to the formation of landmasses, oceans and our atmosphere.  They could certainly contribute more if we properly harnessed geo-thermal energy, but – “

“Oh, stuff it, Shaw.  This is a National Geographic moment, not Wall Street Journal.  And Haven can be as flowery as she likes.  I like flowery.”

“Yes, I’ve noticed.”

“To be honest,” Haven said, “ I was really thinking of the Hawaiian goddess Pele, whose spirit is said to inhabit this caldera.  She is said to be the creator of the islands.  Which isn’t that far from the truth, as you say, Sebastian.  I think the merging of science and myth is really quite interesting.  These stories didn’t come from nowhere, they grew out of earlier people’s understanding of the world ��� and I think they understood more than we give them credit for – “

Haven broke off, as Pryo was striding forward, towards the edge of the crater and down towards the inviting orange glow.

“St John, I don’t think that’s a good idea.” 

“She’ll be right,” Pyro tossed back carelessly.  He’d walked right past the warning signs.  Those were for humans, as far as he was concerned.  Not for mutants with fire control and extreme heat resistance and an emergency back-up cloning system that guaranteed them virtual immortality. 

Pyro needed to be close.  His eyes were fixed on the bubbling orange lake at the bottom of the crater, glowing beautifully hot from the most recent eruption.  Actual molten rock.  It was glorious.  Not fire, exactly, but close enough that it prickled at his mind the way real fire always did.  He imagined diving in and swimming through the molten lake, except he’d heard that lava was much thicker than water, so it would be more like flailing around in pudding.  Also he’d die horribly.

Most of the other mutants didn’t understand.  Being an elemental controller – not creator, but controller – meant that part of the world was always reaching out towards him.  He was always aware of fire in his vicinity, flickering in his consciousness, calling to him.  Dom sort of got it.  Dom would happily run his hands through freshly tilled soil, said it “grounded him.”  Pun intended.  Maybe Iceman got it, although he seemed more interested in making his own ice than any kinship with a glacier.  Storm.  Storm the weather goddess would definitely understand. 

Lost in thought, Pyro barely noticed that his movements were growing sluggish and clumsy.  His vision went white, and he pitched forward – only to be pulled back and upwards by a strong pair of hands. 

Moments later, Pyro’s vision faded back in, and he realized he was lying on his back on the rocks, his head propped up on something soft.  Haven was peering down at him.

“Are you all right?”

“I….what?”  His head was pounding.  Pyro realized, from the angle and the feel of cloth under him, that his head was resting in Haven’s lap. 

It was strangely comforting.  Then Sebastian loomed over him, and that happy little spell was broken.

“You blundered your way into a carbon dioxide pocket.  Which the sign warned about quite clearly.  Ms. Dastoor pulled you up to safety rather than letting you reap the consequences of your own stupidity.  Lucky for you both that you’re a spindly fawn of a man, Allerdyce, or your weight might have pulled you both over.”

Sebastian sounded detached, just the usual mix of disdain and annoyance he usually aimed at Pyro.  But Pyro felt his face burning with shame.  It would have been fine if it was just him.  Maybe a little embarrassing, maybe Dom and Freddy would razz him about it.  But Haven wouldn’t have come back. 

“Thanks luv,” he said, putting a hand up to clumsily pat her shoulder.  ‘You shouldn’t have.  Not worth the risk.  Just let me be stupid next time.” 

“Oh, there’s no need to worry about that, Allerdyce.  I have the solution to your brainless and impulsive nature.”  Sebastian pulled something out of his jacket and held it up with a sneer. 

It was a toddler leash. 

OOC: Why does Sebastian even have that?  I don’t know.  It’s probably a sex thing.  (A sex thing involving only full grown adults, obviously.)  Why are they in Hawai’i at the Kīlauea Caldera?  I’m gonna say vacation.  Pyro is absolutely wearing khaki shorts and a loud red Hawaiian shirt.  Don't mind me, I'm just answering asks from TWO YEARS ago that you've probably forgotten by now.

[stusalgus]

Iceland

9 April

Our nightflight to Iceland was just shy of six hours. Compared to longer haul trips like NZ to HK or NZ to JP this didn't give us enough time to get in a decent snooze. Making things more difficult, perhaps was that we were flying through high latitudes, which meant that six hours of flight took us six hours into the future. So when we landed at about 6:30am it was 12:30am Chicago time, and we felt like it was very much bedtime first thing in the morning.

Iceland! This land of myth and adventure! Of ice and fire! Of eye-watering expensiveness! Our first task was to catch a coach into Reykjavik. The driver was very professional, and good thing too: we'd paid $250NZ for a return airport transfer. It seemed that as with other Scandanavian countries Iceland was a high tax nation.

The landscape on our drive into town could best be described as "desert roady", although it was principally made of frozen lava rather than layers of volcanic ash. We drove past the turn off to Grindavik, an evacuated village that has been under threat from volcanic eruptions over the past few months. The Grindavik sign had been politely taped through, with a certain finality. (On past behaviour the eruptions are likely to be happening on and off for a number of years, so Grindavik is considered to be over.) We saw clouds of smoke or steam rising from that direction. I'm not sure if it was the eruption or the famed (and now frequently closed) Blue Lagoon geothermal spa, or the power station that has also been threatened by lava It was odd having contact with a country's global news event, especially just a few miles out of the airport. But I guess much of Iceland is lava waiting to happen.

Reykjavik has a population of 140k but it managed to feel smaller than that, lacking a centre even as substantial as that of Nelson or New Plymouth. Instead the overall vibe felt more "Scottish fishing village". The morning was overcast and grey and many of the buildings were 1970s style and faced with stucco concrete, which seemed extremely bleak. Luckil other buildings were painted jauntier colours.

Given our tiredness it was with some relief that we were allowed to check in early to our hotel (Center Hotels). I think it's best practice for the jetlagged to stay awake as long as possible to adapt to the current timezone, but in this case we decided "bugger that", and went to bed.

Iceland's equivalent of TV2 only seemed to be showing a live volcano feed.

We awoke around 1pm local time and staggered out to visit the Hallgrímskirkja, a Lutheran church built to cathedral scale, which featured a string winged spire. Indoors it's pretty sparse per Lutheran taste, with a tremendous organ. A bloke sat down at a smaller organ to give an impromptu performance, although I got the impression he was practising for a later service. The walls were decorated in grey stucco similar to the grim buildings I saw earlier. Again it was a little offputting, but perhaps Icelanders are at home with grey.

Across the road we had lunch at a cafe called Loki, where we blew $150NZD on two dishes and a dessert. We shared a lamb rack, and some other Icelandic delicacies: dried fish with butter (the fibrous fish sort of functioning a bit like bread), and pieces of sweet ryebread with various fishs upon them. We even had small cubes of Iceland's infamous fermented shark. The texture was quite odd, but not out of the realms of a Chinese fish ball. The alcoholic aftertaste was more intriguing, though, but not an experience I feel an urgent need to repeat.

Overall, the lunch/dinner was excellent. Chicago had been a gastronomical ordeal for us, and I was glad to eat a meal that felt nourishing.

We had a bit more of a stroll around Reykjavik, in the more touristy end of town. We then retired for the night.

10 April

Today was day one of our two day tour of the south of Iceland, conducted by Nice Tours. Our guide/driver was named Pavel. He is a Pole who, like millions of his countrymen, has taken the opportunity afforded by the EU's open borders to make a new life anywhere in the EU that's not Poland. I like their gumption, but I think a native Icelander might have had more context to impart. Or maybe not; in any event he seemed a decent chap.

We left Reykjavik in sunshine and was immediately by the beauty of the landscape. The cliche is that you see something new in Iceland every few miuntes/miles, and I have to agree. By midday the clouds began to worsen, and eventually the sky became overcast.

The van had wifi (my first experience of 5G - well worth the UN mind control, I reckon; but I guess I would say that…), which proved disastrous as Angus spent most of driving time watching YouTube videos rather than enjoying the scenery, as most 9 year olds generally don't. It did keep him quiet - it's an ill wind, and that - but I lament the low quality of the content. (Meanwhile I listened to a multi-episode podcast about the American Revolution. Well, at least I kept looking out the window, and took innumerable photographs of rocks.)

Throughout the day I have to confess that there we had so many stops I'm having trouble remembering all of them. I can recall a big waterfall cascading downm a cliff. We also visited a vast 17th century lava field festooned with luxuriant deposits of moss. We saw various outlets for the Vatnajokull glacier including one up close. We also the famous diamond beach - a beach littered with lumps of ice) ejected by the glacier. (I tried not to think about how much of the Vatnajokull glacier will be left in a century's time.) In sunshine the diamond beach, with its glittering ice on black sand, is a wondrous sight. We got it with angry dark clouds and a late afternoon gloom. Getting back to the shuttle I found Pavel was showing Angus how to fly a drone, with our lad grinning away, having previously passed on the lumps of ice on the beach.

I should say something about the temperature. It was a few degrees above zero, but the wind chill took it well south of that - at least, that's how it felt. Pavel told us that to him this amount of cold was nothing. Nice for him, I suppose, but despite the number of layers we wore it definitely felt like something.

Around 7 we reached our accommodation for the night, a late 70s/mid 80s single story lodgey thing operated by a local farming family. It felt a bit eccentric, but not unpleasantly so. For dinner we ate a lamb burger (beef was off) and "lobster" (read prawn) pizza, along with a yoghurty cheese cake and some deep-fried dough. It was filling and tasty, and again, a joy compared to US food. (If you're wondering about our lunch, the most memorable aspect was a bowl of tomato soup, for which Iceland, with its year-round hothouse tomatoes, is famed.

We then retired for the night.

11 April

We had a quick breakfast livened by Angus locking himself in the toilet. Then we drove to the jojoskull glacier to venture into an ice cave. We got driven there in a 4x4 which went bumpity bump, and we put on hard hats and crampons/cleats to tramp up to the cave on the glacier ice. The translucent textures of the cave ice were remarkable esp interspersed with ash from innumerable volcanic eruptions. This will seem obscure, but what the the way remind me most of are the "magicube" flash bulbs that my grandfather had on his Kodak instamatic camera. We had an Icelandic guide, and I asked him how much the glacier was retreating. He said that in 1900 it was at the main carpark (at least a couple of km), but that the ice would return "in a few years", citing no evidence. I'm fairly sure this prediction goes against scientific orthdoxy, but I just nodded in agreement - partly out of politeness, and partly because I wished it was true.

On the way back down the glacier Angus tripped and sprained his ankle. Our guide, Pavel was attentive and we later made a special stop to get some anti-inflammatory cream.

After the ice cave we ended up at Black Sand Beach, which is exactly that, but it also has hexagonal lava columns, of which the most specatcular example is the Giant's Causeway in Ireland. The most impressive aspect of the beach though is the huge waves roiling angrily into the shore. There were lots of warnings not to go too near the water, and guides seemed particularly keen to warn people away.

Next we visited not one but two waterfalls, simultaneously. On the south coast there were lots of cliffs for water to fall off. There's not much to say other than the spray from the waterfalls drenched us, and the moss perched on adjacent cliffs absolutely loved it.

We came back to Reykjarvik and bade farewell to Pavel, before checking into a new Hotel, different instalment of Center Hotels, and sadly not quite as mod. Sally was keen for hot water after all that ice so we booked the spa for an hour. I have to say I'm not a fan of sitting in too-hot water (sitting in a bath at the temperature I want is preferable), and even Sally felt she was being cooked. Angus enjoyed himself thoroughly however, even if he spent more time capering outside the hot pool than in it.

We then retired for the night.

12 April

Today we had another bus tour, this time a day trip to the Snæfellsnes peninsula. We drove through a long tunnel under a fjord, and I wondered how a country with a population the size of greater Wellington could build such things when New Zealand seems incapable of creating infrastructure without decades of fuss and rancour. On reaching the peninsula we visited Kirkjufell, a pleasingly shaped mountain that I know chiefly from a Google Chromecast wallpaper image.

Though not much further north than Reykyavik, the Snæfellsnes peninsula was covered in a thick layer half melted snow that was tricky to walk across. We no longer had the boots we'd hired for Angus on the previous tour, so his feet got wet and cold, and he became increasingly miserable. This was the third day of bussing about, and the majestic vistas that had my eyes out on stalks two days earlier were getting a touch monotonous. What's more, our (native Icelandic) driver was a bit of a jerk, and I was missing my old mate Pavel.

Time passed by and we were returned to Reykjavik. We sauntered to the waterfront to get some dinner at a food court. We passed by Iceland's coastguard fleet (two ships, looking in good order). After dinner we checked out the the Harper, the Reykjarvik opera house. It's a flash modern building covered with glass polygons that recall Iceland's hexagonal basalt columns, or (in my head at least) fish scales. The building might be designated an opera house (perhaps to class it up) but it's got lots of different rooms, and - even at 9pm when we wandered in - had a feel like a community drop in centre. Again I was a bit regretful that Wellington is incapable of building something similar.

We then retired for the night.

13 April

We spent our final morning in Iceland wandering around Reykjavik. We bought more pastries from Braud. I should revise my "Scottish fishing village" assessment of Reykjavik from our first day. It turned out there was a modern commercial district, a precinct of government buildings a bit like a sawed-off Molesworth Street, an embassy row like a Nordic Thorndon, and so on. We visited the city council buildings, which were beset by swans and geese. We

Although I'd appreciated Chicago and could have done with another, more sedate week there, I hadn't felt sad to leave it. I was definitely sorry to be leaving Iceland.

At the airport bookshop there was a pile of copies of Njal's Saga, a 14th century transcript of a 10th century recounting of a bunch of goings on between Icelandic chieftains. I'd actually read Njal's Saga perhaps 25 years ago, as my flatmate Andy had a copy. I'd completely forgotten the story, however (and for good reason, as it's a bit rambling and there's a cast of thousands). On a whim I bought a copy and read it on the flight to Washington.

[lifewiththelulus]

This is how I imagine that conversation starts XD

Kindlin stopping by the flower shop to ask plume a bunch of questions randomly XD She gonna do her research "What do you like to eat? Do you need constant heat like fire? What can make you sick?" She hopes what she's doing isn't super obvious but she doesn't know who else to ask questions lol

He's more than happy to help if not slightly exasperated with her attempts to seem casual. He's more than aware of how unlikely it was he even exists so he wants the best for them too. He likes drawing with charcoal but it doubles as a snack. A new meaning to chewing on your pencil. There's some questions he has to brave hearing his parents embarrassing stories to answer. It's not that they weren't friends before but she knows significantly less about him than Hazel and Mimi so all of a sudden her trying to get his help is like "well if it isn't my favorite element who is always so helpful to his friends what's up bro"

Lmao yeah XD Shes like "heyyyyy what's up buddy, one of my favorite florists! How ya dooiiin?"

i can imagine how elated flint and misty are to see another pair like them flourishing

Lol I can only imagine her face when she realizes they know what she's up to

Misty gives kindlin a personal line on one of their business cards. "Please call us if you need anything" wink

She's just bows her head in embarrassment and nods, though she's happy to have someone with some sort of guidance in this area. How'd they meet tho Did plume tell them about the fire girl bothering him with weird questions? Lol

Well once plume started going to them about the questions he couldn't answer they were more than a little curious why

Cirrus would go to Flint to ask for advice on how to be ready once her wife is pregnant.

"heh there's never really a playbook for elements like us who are crazy enough to break the barrier. Much as we've tried. For us we'd ended up believing it would never happen so when it did I can tell you I nearly had a flare up. Feels like a rollercoaster but what I can tell you is to trust your instincts and never doubt each other. Oh and get plastic covers for literally everything you own you'll have soot everywhere in no time flat ha".

Cirrus: Oh… well thank you, sir, I'm happy that you could share that with me but when I said "If she does get pregnant what should I do." I meant more in the sense of how to make Kindlin comfortable, like should I expect cravings, will she need help getting up? ^^; She feels so bad for ruining that moment after he shared something so personal XD

He might put on a lot of bravado but he's very easy to fluster. " ah well you'll have to forgive this old man and his waxing poetic. I'm not quite sure how it'll translate after all I didn't actually have the baby thank the blue flame" practically slaps his knee at his own jokes. "But Misty I recall could hardly eat anything she used too. She started wanting the stuff I had imported from home. Maybe plume just wanted something more fire, who knows. She never felt cold enough nearly blew away one day when she put on a dozen fans in the office."

"my own mom used to tell me it was like have a lump of coal weighing you down all day so I'd imagine your wife will need some extra attention towards the end. And not to gross you out young lady but well, you must be sure you know exactly when the babies coming because a water break aint so bad but a lava one, now that could cost ya in repairs. "

Cirrus: That last one will definitely be a big help, I'm not sure what I'm going to do about the food situation though, Kindlin can't eat our food, It evaporates as soon as it gets close to her mouth.

"when you get to be as old as I am you realize you can eat just about anything if you throw it in a blender first hehe. Whenever A few times Misty wanted me to try something I tried mixing it with my lava java. Not perfect but hey"

Cirrus: Huh. Blending… I think that might just work. Um… I do have one more question though. It's silly to think about but I can't help but worry… what if they don't like me?

His face softens with the kind of knowing only a parent can have "you know with plume, I was sure I would end up like my parents, that Id push him away and he'd know it somehow even as a little puff of smoke. But I tell you once you actually lay eyes on em, it won't matter, even if they hated you you know youd do anything for em. But if it means anything to you the fact that you even worry about it tells me there's no way they won't love you. I think they have a way of knowing"

[the-white-letter]

Groundless - (This is a sort of prequel to the actual story telling you the history of the world. If you want more of the prequel, I will write it)

<This has a bunch of pointless info mixed in but it is very handy for time keeping and info junkies, also for me to remember components & deets -_- >

{FORMATTED FOR PC}

1; (Ep-Ih-Thigh-Tss)

2; (Zen-Tris) // (Zen-Tr-Ih-ss)

3; (Zen-Tr-Ih-Siz)

4; (Mah-Zih-key)

5; (Lim-Ari)

6; (Rr-Ike-Oh)

7; (Ten-Zz-Ight)

{Excerpt taken from “Hono-Aki’s Past Millennium”}

I am Hojiori Ano Akimatsa, also known as Hono-Aki, a grounded fighter and anomaly researcher.

I am writing this report on the past millennium to completely cover even the things the government tried to downplay or hide using real statistics and reveal the truths as an outsider.

Today, humanity lives on floating islands called Epiphytes 1.

(Note; small numbers [1]  next to words are what number they are in the pronunciation list at the beginning and end)

These islands float because of magnetic repulsion and attraction to the planet’s core.

The process of building these islands spanned centuries, when the concept was finally reaching succession, we found ourselves as the human race under attack.

But I’m getting ahead of myself there.

We came into contact with alien life about 234 years after the island concept was starting to no longer be thought of as a pipe dream.

Some aliens were intrigued and curious about us and we had cordial contact between them, they connected us with other “Zentris 2” as they called it.

It seemed to be another term for group, clan, planet, or maybe race?

It seemed to be used both to refer to a singularity and plural, like deer being both a single deer and a group of deer.

From here on I will be using “Zentris” or “Zentris group” to refer to a single group or planet and “Zentris’ 3” or  “Zentris groups” to refer to multiple for clarity.

We were able to connect to more extra terrestrial beings, a handful didn’t seem very welcoming.

But at the same time, not all of them seemed to hold hostility, necessarily.

384 years since we made contact and 582 years since the floating islands were gaining traction, the first floating island was created and was undergoing tests.

It was officially given the name Raikou 6, rather than Tenzite 7, named after the god of lightning, thunder, and storms in Japanese mythology.

We contacted the Zentris’ multiple times over the years, communicating and learning from each other.

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

Because of the new era that drastically shook the world, new time scales were created besides BCE, CE, BC, and AD.

They were GE and BGE which meant “Groundless Era” and “Before Groundless Era.”

BGE spanned from the year that the floating islands became probable to 10 years after the first floating island was created because it was still undergoing tests during that period.

GE spans from the end of the BGE to CE or the “Current Era.”

32 years after the first island was created and had finished testing, 42 years after it was first created, the first island was made 10x bigger and 4 more islands were created at varying sizes.

Over these 32 years, we received many things from the Zentris’ we were on good terms with.

One of them had sent an entourage carrying a bunch of interesting “stones” to give us.

These stones turned out to be something called “Maziki 4” or “Soul Stones” and  “Limari 5” or “Life Stones.”

It seemed that the “Life Stones” were like physical manifestations of compound elements, like stones that felt slightly warm and glowed with a lava-like hue but they had the ability to make them spout huge bursts of fire.

The “Soul Stones” were almost nonsensical to us, the Zentris group’s entourage attempted to explain it as “A stone that looks upon the physical and ethereal form causing one to awaken new abilities that were restrained before.” and “it’s like a key to your true soul” we were respectful, but still hadn’t understood a thing.

They had also brought large stones that towered over even a 7ft man, they had called these “Limjarska” or “Spirit Life Blood” or simply “Life Blood.”

The “Life Blood” stones were explained as being “The natural component of life that this land lacks.”

They told us to put them around our world for them to take effect and they would bring more if we did it properly, they left without further explanation.

As much as the Americas and Europe wished to keep the stones to themselves, they spread them across the world as they were told, in hopes of receiving more.

The world would in fact receive more stones over the years up to today, one here one there, and probably will continue to do so.

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

One year after the number of floating islands reached 5, 33 GE, we suddenly received multiple carrier crafts from a few of the Zentris groups.

It seemed that the 3 Zentris that had seemed hostile when we first made contact decided to “play a game” with us.

They captured creatures from their respective planets and sent them over to us disguised as gifts, the capsule crafts were opened with the assumption they were safe.

The creatures burst out of the crafts and immediately started killing the populous in the area, luckily at that point we had built floating islands that were safe from the creatures.

People rushed to try to get on the islands, but there wasn’t enough space on the islands that were available.

The rush to create more islands was eminent, but people were still left to die after the 5 existing islands filled up even over living capacity and the military couldn’t really do anything to help.

The creatures spread out fast across the world, simply within the next 4 months the world was covered.

 Our cordial Zentris groups heard of our plight from the government who was trying to save our planet.

They directed us to use the “Soul Stones” they had given us with the simple sentiment “What more could be lost.” and the government began to ponder the problem.

We were contacted by Mars, our second planet, 3 months after those crafts had arrived and found they had now also received such carrier crafts.

The carrier crafts possessed the “flagged” or recorded markings that were on the creature carrier crafts so they hadn’t opened them, but a week later their caution didn’t matter.

The carrier crafts burst open and the creatures poured out, Mars only had 3 floating islands at that point and suffered many casualties.

The government made a stark decision and began a selection process for people to use the Soul Stones. A month later the selection was made.

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

It was a mix of public populace around the world and military that was based off of medical records and the records of those confirmed dead to find people deemed physically suitable amongst the living populace.

These people were called upon on military orders to come to the main floating island by having officers come to them and safely transport them to Raikou.

They weren’t told anything until they were confined to the military base of Relou, they were first tested mentally, physically, and medically to see what their current state was while still being oblivious as to why.

After testing they were finally told why they were brought there and at that point they couldn’t even try to leave.

They were in the middle of a military base on a floating island where if they had managed to escape the only choice they’d have was to leave the island and simply become prey for the creatures below.

They were forced to participate in the experiment which would leave more than 52% of the experimentees dead.

The people who survived were then retested to compare they’re physical and mental state before and after to see what the result was.

It was found that the survivors of the Soul Stones had varying results, some had gained only 1 relative change while others had a combination.

These results consisted of a higher IQ, higher perceptions, increased physical strength, increased physical immunity and healing- this was discovered later- and a confusing change to their physical body.

This change was a new bodily component, this component jumbled technological devices if they were too close, if the person got mad everyone in the room would feel physically under pressure, and various other unexplainable things.

This “new element,” as they called it, was reminiscent of the odd feeling one would get when near the large stone structures they were given before.

The scientists had the “Life Stones,” which were renamed “Element Stones,” brought in to see if these people could interact with these stones, and found they could.

They could make the lava-like stones produce flames, the glass-like stones produce a breeze, the stones patterned like water trickle like a faucet, and the jade stones sprout a flower, all with a simple touch.

These stones and their properties wouldn’t find a use in life or combat until much later and basically collected dust except for testing people’s aptitudes when they use the soul stones.

The interesting thing was that people who could have a stone react strongly couldn’t do the same with some others, they could have other type either produce less effect than the strong one or no effect at all.

This became known as “Elemental Affinity.” They weren’t exactly aware of what the “affinity” even meant, that would be known later.

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

They began training those with stronger physiques to use swords rather than guns in order to capitalize on their physical strength as guns were found almost pointless unless they were strong enough to damage or decommission a tank.

These people were found to learn how to use physical weaponry quickly, some suck with simple swords, others wanted different types of swords, and others wanted different weapons entirely.

Their requests were accommodated because they were the biggest hope we had to fight against the creatures.

They stayed in the training phase for a year. 33 years, 7 months, and 3 weeks after the first island was created, 1 year, 8 months, 3 weeks, and 2 days since the creatures poured over the lower world, humanity prepared its first expedition to fight back.

1; (Ep-Ih-Thigh-Tss)

2; (Zen-Tris) // (Zen-Tr-Ih-ss)

3; (Zen-Tr-Ih-Siz)

4; (Mah-Zih-key)

5; (Lim-Ari)

6; (Rr-Ike-Oh)

7; (Ten-Zz-Ight)

[lostwcnderlands]

rumors swirled in the pits of hell's fire, they spoke of a maiden oh-so-fair, with midnight raven hair.

hades had been all but haunted within his own halls - for the springtime blossom withered with every turn of the century, and as did the cobwebs upon his hardening, darkening heart grow more wild && untamed. for the god of death himself fancied a grave, one to grow ripe with roses that wouldn't all turn to dust when he exhaled. he did not dare step foot upon the mountain, living up to the stories of the powerful recluse that hid behind walls of brimstone, rotting on his throne of bone.

this had become his eternity. for hell had lost it's queen, and hades had lost his conquest. no fire would still, no broiling pit of lava would cease it's frothing, until the god was set free. but the chains were of his own making, irons of misery && shackles he'd willing locked to his own two wrists. it didn't matter what the mortal world held, nor how it changed, lives progressing && ever-changing. they would all find their way to him in the end. lost, defeated, and oh-so-very dead. they always were, and it was always a bore.

and yet, the crows whispered of a different face. one familiar, one full of springtime grace. so hades had allowed a flicker of hope to be set ablaze, and he boarded the river to do what some thought he never may. he donned a disguise, one that of but a man - his flames subsided, his powers placed in a locket, and aside from one single crow that perched upon the god's shoulder as a protector, hades was... truly, simply, just a man.

he moved with purpose, bare feet connecting to the earth like he'd been born of the dirt && grass instead of stars && blood. like he, too, could find a false sense of happiness in the mundane. but nature itself leaned away, smelling his death, from where he came. clouds hurried to the sun's protection, darkening his path as the crow whispered direction upon it's masters ear. a simple cottage, just there - cresting the hill, through the trees, there, a splatter of normalcy on the horizon. he'd found it, he'd found her, at long last.

" ....lost? " hades echoed, concern etched across his brow, feeling a tremble within his chest. of all the things he could be, that couldn't be the furthest from the truth. not now, that hell's stolen queen stood before him, even if it was her, after all, that had wandered too far. so far, she'd forgotten her home - her glory, her heavenly nature, the kiss from the god's that gave her such beauty, that had brought even hellfire to tamed submission in the bed of her garden.

persephone may be far from home, but hades assured himself - she was no longer lost. now, she had been found. he was not going to let her fade, not this time - not ever again. lips pushed into a ghostly sort of smile. " in a way - yes, i suppose i am. a stranger in a new land, but somehow, i feel as if i'm meant to be here, all the same. would you be so kind as to tell me... where is it, exactly, i've found myself to be? "

open to gods/demi-creatures/fantasy beings. any gender. scenario: penny is the goddess of spring sealed in a mortal body, with no memories of who she used to be.

Penny had always found peace in the quiet corner of the world she had carved out for herself, where the earthy scent of fresh soil mingled with the delicate sweetness of her wildflowers. Her garden—untamed at times, but still hers—was a sanctuary. It was where she could breathe, where she could think, where she truly felt at home. It was everything she had, besides the small cottage tucked away at the edge of the meadow.

Her life was simple, even mundane at times—one where days bled into the next. She’d spend her mornings tending to her flowers, selling them when the market allowed, and then retreating back to her little haven, where everything was familiar and safe.

But today… today was different.

The air felt heavier than usual, thick with the scent of damp grass and the sweet fragrance of lavender in bloom. The sky stretched above her—too vast, perhaps, or maybe too close? It felt as though it was pressing down on her, wrapping around her. Penny furrowed her brow, a strange unease rising in her chest. Her heartbeat quickened, and she couldn’t quite place the reason why. Maybe it was the way the wind seemed to swirl around her, curling like a whisper too soft to understand. Or maybe it was the unnerving stillness in the air—no chirping birds, no rustling leaves, just an eerie silence that pressed against her ears.

The earth beneath her feet felt oddly solid, as though it was holding its breath too.

Then, through the trees, she saw... well, whoever that was. A person that seemed to bring som thrilling feelings right up her spine and fill her chest with something exciting. Something that she should know.

Penny hesitated for a moment, unsure of what she was seeing, before lifting her hand in a tentative wave. Curiosity and kindness were second nature to her, often leading the way in any introduction, even when the situation was more unsettling than usual.

"Hello, dear! You lost?" she called out.

[thecontumacious]

Hi hi! I’m not sure if u know the game fate grand order arcade, but there is a character named Tiamat who is basically a dragon goddess and I wanted to request hcs of a reader inspired by her with the luxiem boys. If u are not comfortable doing this request then it’s fine u don’t have to push yourself to do it. Also just for context I’ll put a short youtube video of what she is like. https://youtu.be/4O9cPm7dutU

Basically she is soft spoken and kinda like a mom, I can picture some luxiem boys (*cough* mystaandvox) calling reader mommy 😂😂

The Lord, Our Dragon Goddess, the Queen (+ luxiem fantasy au)

a/n: told yall i fried my brain writing this :') y/n kinda reminds me of zhongli here jhskjahdkjh btw reader is fem oriented if it wasn't obvious lolol

warning: more or less 2.3k words per member so this is most definitely not a quick read! otherwise, sit back, play a fantasy playlist and enjoy~

reminder that all my work and others in the fandom are purely fiction and intended to entertain, not to be projected irl.

a high sense of compassion, inspiring leadership, fairness in war and dominating wit and intelligence.

this was how you became the true ruler of the magical land of auphaines. you were the one who shaped the mountains after all, gave flow to the streams and oceans, guided the animals how to survive in nature. however, despite your power and majestic overrule, humankind did not see that.

they saw you as an arrogant creature. they thought that when your dragon families helped build auphaines, you were boasting of your power. it didn't help that some of the more rogue members in your family were known to be murderers. biting off heads, setting fires to civilians.

so, they waged wars against your kind. all until there were almost none left. of course, there was still you. you look upon the land you created to be your home and what was supposed to be shared with other living beings. you frown, then disappearing into the shadows for the rest of eternity to protect yourself.

"humans," you muttered last, before putting yourself in exile.

it wasn't until a group of men stumbled upon your place of slumber, somewhere deep amongst the caverns of lava mountains. you were surprised when you heard signs of life. afraid they had come here to kill you, the very, very last of your kind, you quickly shift into your human form.

you hid your face under a hood and curled against the rocks. but it seemed like someone with immense instincts and senses had found you anyway.

the one who saw you first is a man with simple common folk attire. a hunter perhaps judging by his shoes meant for heavy and long traveling and a bag meant to contain many items.

"lads, look!" he turns to his group. "there is someone here."

you heave in a sharp breath, inching away. behind the grey haired man came four more.

the second to approach you emanated an aura you thought would be long erased from the earth. a mythical creature it seemed. from what you could pick up from his more refined and well tailored maroon coat and obviously hand weaved pants, he seemed to be of the upper class. with the way he was built, he might even be someone who was used to fighting. an aristocrat perhaps?

the yellow eyed man kneels down to your level, giving you a soft expression. "hello, love. what are you doing in such a dangerous place?"

you smile shyly, "i could very well ask you the same, sir."

the man in red chuckles. "well, we come here not without a purpose. but our scavenger friend here sensed someone was here."

"how long have you been here, miss?" another one asked. you turn to him, this one a blonde with a bright smile. he seemed easy-going. he was far more built than the man in red, his clothes lighter and more for practicality and ease of movement. judging from his weapons and scars, he might be a warrior of some sort.

you clench your jaw at the thought, worried you'd have to hurt these men if they attacked you.

"i-i've been here all my life," you simply say.

"i mean not to sound offensive, miss. but with an environment like this and no stable source of food, it seems almost impossible to have been here for so long," chimed in another voice.

you look at this one. a gentle looking man, but with the way he attentively pointed out the oddity of your statement, you knew he was good with his words. noticing one of his hands being slightly more muscular than the other and the rather simple attire, but refined enough to be indoor wear; he could be a scholar, a scrivener or a writer.

"i manage, you see," you say, offering him a smile.

and then you notice the last man, the most unique among the other men you thought. he had a presence similar to the man in red, but unlike him, he lacked that mystical air around him. from that and the sage scented tome on him, he may be someone meddling with magic.

he spoke, once he had been quiet for a bit, "lads, i suggest you be a bit gentle with her."

the scavenger turns to his magic wielding friend, "huh? why's that?"

"she seems... familiar somehow," he mumbles, taking a closer look at you. however you don't recognize him. you've never seen humans in the last twenty centuries or so. "vox, don't you recognize her in some way?"

the man in red turned, whom you learn was named vox. "actually, now that you mention it, she does. she's..."

then his eyes widen.

the blonde man from before taps vox's shoulder. "hey, what's up?"

"men, bow down!" he orders them. they're confused at what he means but seeing him get on one knee and bow before you, they follow hesitantly. vox turns to them briefly, "she's the last of her kind. the dragon creators. the true queen of auphaines, y/n l/n."

continuation utc!

Vox Akuma 👹🌹

the aristocrat

his long family line being in the soldier caste easily put him in the upper class of aristocracy

and of course, according to your accurate analysis, vox truly was a mythical being not from humankind. a powerful demon granted with immortal life and abilities humans could never have.

what was his main purpose of arriving at the lava mountains?

it was a legacy of his family of demons to bow to the true creators of auphaines

with them being completely wiped out, but one rumored to have survived, vox’s family was sworn to look and protect for this last remaining heir

with the help of his friends, he had finally found you

his one true queen in this land

“come, my queen, we should escort you to better living accommodations. you must be exhausted from being in a slumber for so long,” vox outstretches a hand, to which you hesitantly take

through that touch alone was enough to have you realize how important vox’s bloodline was to you and your once existing kind

demons and the like were immediate subordinates to the dragon creators, as without you, they never would have existed and were able to live side by side with the other creatures such as humans

vox’s kind being one of the higher classes who aided in protecting you and your family

he took you to his home that day, giving you a proper bath and foods to fill your stomach. 

he was truly amazed at how you brought yourself. so majestic and elegant despite being in self exile for so many centuries

once done, vox gathers all mythical creatures like himself to his hall. 

“ladies, gentlemen and everyone in between,” he first says, then gesturing towards you. “our lives could not have been lived as peacefully as today if not for the dragon creators of auphaines. most of them have sadly been wiped from the face of the earth, thus failing our duties in protecting them. but one remains. the rumors are true, friends! the last reigning heir of the dragon blood, y/n, stands before you right now.”

everyone seems to be shocked by the sudden announcement, now looking at you and confirming for themselves that you truly were an heir of the original creators

in a moment’s notice, everyone in the hall bows down on one knee with one hand pressed against their left part of the chest

how long has it been since someone has respected you like this?

last time it was some human shunning you out for being who you were supposed to be

but here you were, your glory restored with the help of whom they call vox

you turn to him, seeing that he too had bowed down before you

“you have not failed your duties, my friends,” you smile, bringing their attention towards you. “while most of my kind are deceased, you all still hope and even had the effort to track me down.”

you gesture to vox

“you especially,” you grin. “you should be rewarded for all your efforts.”

the demon shakes his head, “it’s only my duty to do so as one of your immediate protectors. my family has long sworn to do this. if not for you, my queen, we would not have been surviving this long in the world.”

“then you are a man of honor eternally respecting your duties for so long,” you suddenly touch his shoulders and this prompts him to stand up. you smile at him then gave him a hug. “thank you, truly. i owe you my life.”

his ancestors passed down the stories of you and your powers, so much so it became engraved into his mind. they told him about your kindness and gentle mannerisms, despite also being known as the warrior queen of old auphaines.

vox for once can actually see the meaning behind those words

from your touch, he could feel just how alone you’ve been these past centuries. and the moment you return, you’re met with your loyal subjects, your crown restored

vox smiles and hugs you back, “of course, my queen.”

per your request though, afraid that the humans would not accept you, he respects that your presence may only be revealed to the mythical creatures and very few humans who could be trusted

you're even given your own room in vox's mansion, a choice he insisted on having instead of having you return to your solitary home in the lava mountains

he treats you with absolute respect, nothing out of bounds and no inappropriate words

at the beginning

as the days go by, vox realizes another fact about you

when his ancestors said that you did not see class, you truly didn't. you conversed easily with everyone. with his friends in his group, all the staff, even the unknowing humans outside despite being the reason why you're the last alive

the organized council with a more mystical aura to them never hesitated in consulting to you for problems relating to the general public

you might've been a little behind on modern history, but you're witty and could quickly pick up things. so your advice almost always comes through

vox, who has been accompanying you for the longest time during your return, can't help but let his stare linger whenever you're nearby

even if you weren't interacting with him, his heart races when he thinks of you

were you alright? are you having any troubles with conflicting parties?

but then again, he had no reason to worry since you were the literal long lost dragon queen of a powerful land

one day, some of the younger members braved themselves to ask your guidance in fighting

vox was about to scold them for being brash, but you stop him.

you smile, "let them be. it's been a while since i've wielded a weapon after all."

because it was you, he lets you go.

then he watches you easily sweep the young men and women who challenged you, ending the practice fight like you hadn't even broken a sweat

"a little rusty it seems," you laugh to yourself, sheathing your chosen weapon.

vox's mouth is wide open but when you approach him, he straightens himself up. "well done, your majesty. if i do say so myself, you haven't lost even a sliver of your skills."

"have i?" you ask, tilting your head.

the demon's heart leaps, but he contains it. "i speak only the truth."

"milord, i'd like to see you have a duel against her majesty!" yells one of the young men, his friends agreeing.

vox rolls his eyes while grinning, "oh? only to see me fail, is that it?"

they laugh, "revenge for never going easy on us during training!"

you let out a giggle

god, you sounded so adorable, vox thought as pink dusts his cheeks

you turn to him, tapping his arm, "i'd like to practice with an able warrior like yourself. perhaps you'll surprise everyone."

"oh, i couldn't," waving his hands, he tries to refuse. deep down it's only because he's incredibly intimidated by your strength. even for him, going against the younger ones usually takes him a while longer

he most certainly didn't want to lose against you, did he?

you grab his arm and pull him to the courtyard, handing him a practice sword, "come now. you have no right to refuse me."

vox gazes at you, then laughs.

you really did know the power you hold over him, huh?

everyone even crowds around the courtyard to watch the practice fight, excited to see one of the strongest demons in their faction go against the ancient queen herself

"ready?" you ask him, readying your weapon. he nods as he got into his stance.

vox even smirks, the determination in your eyes making his heart race, "lead ahead, milady."

blades are crossed and it seemed like no one was winning or either losing

you perfectly dodge and read his movements, and vox could quickly throw a counter strong enough to push you off your feet

it takes a full ten or fifteen minutes before your attacks become fiercer

this is where your dragon blood starts to run rapidly. your swipes at vox becomes harder for him to counter and dodge. you don't even give him a chance to place an attack on you

what's stopping vox from giving out is the fact you look so gorgeous fighting with such passion and full concentration

he's never met anyone like you, truly

but this also makes him lose his focus with time

your hair falling out, sweat dripping down your face and the heavy breath every few minutes

it became too much for vox

was this the reason why so many foes fell beneath your feet?

suddenly, the demon's sword is knocked out of his hand and he falls onto his back avoiding the blade pointed so close to his face. with this, you take the chance to stand over him with your weapon merely inches from his nose

the courtyard is quiet, only yours and vox's heavy breathing heard

from the ground, all he sees is you. your lips slightly parted, your hair everywhere but still standing proudly after a tight duel

how could you not hear his loudly beating heart?

that day became a memory for everyone.

the day where the vox akuma, one of the most esteemed figures in the class of mythical creatures, was beaten down by their queen no less.

but he was never more glad than for that to happen

that night as everyone applauded you for your incredible skills in combat, more people coming in to ask for your advice and the like, vox couldn't even get one feet close to you

it frustrated him to say the least

why? because he couldn't get the image of you from the fight today out of his mind

if he wasn't going to do something about it, he might just become wild

so, what he does is force himself through the crowd and grabs your hand

"vox? oh, wait--where are you taking me?" you ask him when your conversation with a nobleman is cut short, other questions in your head long forgotten as the demon kept tugging you away

the crowd behind you couldn't keep up either

"vox?" you try again, but he doesn't even spare you a glance

it's only when you reach his private study does he turn around to meet your confused eyes

"hey, is everything--"

click.

"why did you--"

then his arms trap you against the recently locked door, his face increasingly close to the point your breath becomes one with his; his red and black bangs brush against you

your voice disappears completely when vox eyes you with such intensity you've never seen on him

"do you understand what you do to me, your highness?" he growls, the temperature in the room rising quickly.

"wh-what do you mean?" you ask coyly

one of vox's hands snakes to grab yours, then he places it on his chest where you feel the wild beating of his heart

at this, your ears and cheeks turn red

"this. this is what you do to me, my queen," vox then leans his forehead against yours. "i can't stop thinking about you. day and night. pardon my impolite ways, but i don't think i can hold back anymore."

you meet his golden eyes and even though he claims it as such, you can see he's waiting for your answer

so, you nod.

vox smiles then places that long awaited kiss on your lips. the kiss he's been thinking about in the day and the dreams in his sleep.

what surprises him is that you return the gesture, in fact, just as fervent as him

this prompts vox to press you against the door even more, drinking in more of you until he felt satisfied

he pulls away for the quickest second to whisper, "i could do this forever, my queen."

you grin against his lips, "i give you my permission."

oh the things he could do to you...

"don't let me stop then, milady."

the long lost ancient queen of auphaines, the original creators with dragon blood. gentle but also powerful all the same.

all in his arms, just the way he likes it.

Mysta Rias 🦊🔶

the scavenger

despite his eccentric way of doing things, mysta was known to have the spirit of an adventurer and the quirky talent of being able to find things through these journeys

after much consideration and contemplating, he decided to take advantage of this talent of his to find things he deemed valuable

he would make time throughout the week to travel through new areas to see if he can find something

he almost always never comes back empty handed

and he'd usually sell the items in his antique/gift shop back in town

the main purpose why he even came to the lava mountains in the first place was because his aristocrat friend, vox, had been asking for his help to find this "long lost dragon queen of auphaines"

initially, mysta thought his friend had truly lost it.

sure he's seen demons, satyrs, cat hybrids and more. it was even said that he was part fox somewhere in his more human blood.

but dragons?

all mysta knew about them was that they were strong but had been erased from the earth centuries ago

vox was willing to pay him a hefty fee though, so he agreed anyway

with his impressive tracking skills, here you were, in the face of him and his four other friends

"we must bring you back to the city! the other mythical creatures will be overjoyed to see you alive, my queen," vox says, offering you a hand

but seeing your more reserved form and somewhat hesitant expression, mysta chimes in, "actually, don't you think that she's a bit a scared to see so many people? she's been here for who knows how long alone."

“t-to be honest, yes,” you nod, looking towards vox’s hand. “i’m the living heir of the dragon family after all. i’m only lucky your human friends don’t seem to resent me. who knows what the others will think? oh and i apologize if that sounded offensive.”

as you said that, mysta can’t help but wonder how you don’t sound angry at all by that. even apologizing when you felt like you had insulted humankind

well, you lost your home that you made yourself for everyone to live in. it’s only because of his ancestors’ ignorance that they pushed you and your kind away

if he were in your place, he’d get revenge

but yet here you were, gently smiling at him and his human friends

“if you say so, your highness,” the demon aristocrat pulls his hand back. “well, we most certainly can’t leave you here.”

“how about she stays at mysta’s?” the man who could wield magic suggests, pointing to the scavenger

at that moment, the man whom you just learned was named mysta turns bright red and shakes his head

“oh, no, no, it’s a mess right now! i can’t have her stay at a place like mine…” he scratches the back of his head awkwardly, refusing to look at you especially. 

“come on, mysta. you can’t a lady like herself to stay out here, would you? besides, you said it yourself that it would be dangerous for her to immediately go into civilization,” this time it was ike who was provoking mysta. he was always good with his words so it was obvious he pointed out only his weak spots. ike adds, “your house is on the countryside. it’s the safest option among all of us.”

mysta groans internally. “f-fine! come on then, your highness…”

then, he hears you giggle. 

woah that sounded… nice

for an old dragon queen who’s been living in the depths of the lava mountains that is

and well, as a person in general too!

oh what the heck was he thinking??

he led you to his home that day, guiding you first through his admittedly adorable little antique store

he stops you once you arrive at the bottom of the stairs with a shy smile, “s-sorry! um, my house is actually a mess so, let me get things cleaned up. you can take a look around here though!”

“of course. take your time, mysta,” you nod, gesturing for him to go onwards.

why did you have to mention his name that way…? it just sounded so nice??

well that didn’t sound horrendously creepy.

mysta rushes up the stairs and starts shoving trash into the bins and throwing unclean clothes into his wash basket. he made his bed, at least organized the dishes by the sink so it wouldn’t look as haphazard and cleaned up his adventuring essentials into their proper places in the cupboard

actually with your suddenly arrival it became the first time that month mysta put an effort into cleaning his house

a pretty lady was staying over after all

with the space a bit more decent, he takes a deep breath, tells himself that it’s gonna be alright and goes down to his store to fetch you

“hey! you can come—“

but his words are cut short when he sees you staring intently at something in the display case of the store

it almost intimidated him how focused you were on the thing, so he stopped. he slowly made himself towards you and takes a look at what’s caught your interest

it was a diadem of sorts… a little rusty, some of the shapes losing its original form because of the abrasion of time

yet it definitely held some importance if you were interested in it

“how much were you going to offer this for, mysta?” you suddenly ask, facing him. 

“um, this took me a while to look for and it has some value on it to me. maybe, 100 gold coins?” mysta proffers. 

you give him a smile. “i see. my family would have cut your head off for that price.”

his goosebumps rise and the hairs on his neck stand on edge. “th-they would, wouldn’t they? hahaha…”

at his panicked expression, you couldn’t help but laugh. “i only jest, mysta. partly, i suppose. back then this would’ve cost much, much more. it was one of my crowns after all.”

mysta chokes on pretty much nothing, coughing whatever it is that disturbs his airway. you reach out a hand to him to rub his back. 

“your crowns huh?” he says, hitting his chest. “hit the jackpot—cough—didn’t i?”

you giggle once more, “perhaps. it’s long worn away now. if you think 100 gold pieces are enough, then i shall too. you went through such lengths to get it after all, did you not?”

again with your contradicting ways of life

this was your crown, the crown of the ever reigning dragon queen of auphaines. this should’ve costed at least 10 times more yet you’re willing to let him price it at just 100 gold pieces?? humans, your natural foes, could have their hands on it no less!

you were so odd (to mysta), yet attractive all the same

that night mysta actually had you sleep in his bed instead of on the couch. though you kept insisting you’ve been sleeping on actual rocks the past centuries, he was reluctant to let you sleep on the couch

in the morning, he overslept. so the moment he wakes and realizes he’s later than he should be, mysta rolls off the couch (may have bruised his butt in the process) and expects himself to just grab a fruit to eat

but

you're at the dining table, setting out a spread of delicious foods

mysta almost thought he was still asleep when seeing you holy form, with the morning sun shining down on your flawless physique

“good morning, mysta,” you greet him, pulling out a chair. “go on and get something to eat.”

unknowing what to say (truth be told still bedazzled by your beautiful self, you cooking him breakfast despite being the guest nonetheless), mysta points at the clock. “i-i'm actually running late to open the store…”

“really? alright then. you can open up and i’ll bring you a plate downstairs,” you nonchalantly stand again and grab a plate from the table, placing all the available foods you made that morning. 

mysta could merely stare at you in awe

is this what’s it like to be roommates with the dragon queen herself?

“o-okay,” is what he mutters out before quickly resuming his rushed morning routine

by the time he goes downstairs, he’s just in time to flip the sign over to 'open'. lucky too because there were a few customers waiting for him already

as he waits for the other customers to take their pick in an object, you climb down the stairs with a tray of his food

mysta just… can’t help but stare. even the customers wondered who else was with him when he’s usually found alone in the store

you flash the newcomers with your ever sweet beam, then you head for mysta’s place at the counter to give him his late breakfast. “your breakfast, mysta. eat slowly alright?”

just then, the bell by the door rings to announce another customer. you and mysta realize it was vox. his eyes finds yours

“ah, there you are, your—“ but he realizes there are other people here, so he clears his throat. “miss y/n. i’m glad you seem to be making yourself comfortable here. i came by to make sure if everything was alright.”

you nod, pressing the tray against your chest. “i am, thank you for asking. mysta was a gentleman.”

but the demon eyes the scavenger with an eyebrow quirked upwards, “really? i see you’re bringing him his breakfast though?”

mysta waves his hand rapidly at the aristocrat, “oh shut it, milord. she was already making breakfast when i woke up. how could i have stopped her?”

“it’s quite alright, you know. he looked exhausted.”

vox sighs, “if her majesty insists. then i’ll be off for the morning. please, tell me if there is anything you need.”

he bids you and mysta farewell, just in time for a customer to come by the counter to ring up his items

“mysta, can i offer you 50 silver pieces for these?” he asks, readying his pouch of money

mysta slides off his chair and goes to estimate the price when he catches you analyzing them before he did. for some reason, he didn’t want to disturb you but there was a customer waiting…

“sir, may i tell you a story about this particular trinket?” your finger taps the vintage clock on the countertop. the man raises an eyebrow, but urges you to continue.

“this was used by nautical admirals back in its prime time. passed down from one great admiral to the next. it’s moved from great ships and even survived during battalions at sea. the one most interesting fact about it is is that it has never stayed on land longer than one day. i’d like to assume it’s about 100 years old since it’s production.”

at this, the present customer, the others in the store and even mysta are interested in your story

“oh my, how precious of an antique it is then!” he exclaims, digging through his money and readily drops 50 gold pieces this time, swiping away the silver ones. “mysta! this should be worth more! will these do?” 

“y-yeah, this should be good,” he nods, handing the customer a pouch to carry his newly bought item. 

“miss! what about this? does this one have a story too?” a female patron comes rushing forward to the countertop then places her chosen item, a set of an intricate quill and inkwell. 

mysta turns to you. you graciously smile and start recounting the story behind the stationery like you’ve known them as a person

as you go into detail about the stories, with more customers coming in to ask, mysta can’t help but enjoy your presence and your storytelling voice. gentle but inciting enough that your tale is very compelling

he could just sit there forever and listen to you all day

“mysta? mystaaaaa?” 

“huh?” he snaps out of his daze, shaking his head awake like he had just fallen asleep. 

you giggle, “it’s lunchtime. would you like anything?” 

“oh no, you already cooked breakfast i can't let you cook lunch too—“

mysta is about to stand to head for the kitchen when you suddenly grab his hand. he freezes, pink dusting his cheeks when you touch him

“it’s alright. you can stay here at the store,” then you’re off to skitter to get some lunch ready for you and mysta

IS THIS WHAT IT’S LIKE TO BE ROOMMATES WITH THE QUEEN OF AUPHAINES?

mysta buries himself in his arms, absolutely blushing his head off and his heart beating out of his chest

ma-maybe it wasn’t the worst idea to have you stay with him after all… the customers like you and business is getting better 

later, you return with plates of hot steaming meals. you place the tray before you and him, “go ahead, mysta.”

he stares at the delicious food, then back at you. 

“marry me.”

you freeze, dropping the spoon onto the plate. “i’m sorry?”

“HUH--WAIT, I'M SORRY I DIDN'T MEAN THAT. NO, WAIT I DO WANT TO MARRY YOU--WAIT—“ then mysta proceeds to dive under the counter, curling up. 

what the fuck did i just say

what the fuck

what the fuck

what the fuck

then he feels your familiar fingers on his arms, but this only makes him squirm from embarrassment

“hey, look at me, won’t you?” you plead softly. with much consideration, mysta whines but makes his face seen by you

“y-yes?”

“i’ll consider your proposal soon,” you giggle. but unlike the times before you did it out of politeness, he could tell you were serious. 

because your own cheeks were just as red as he was

mysta can’t help but chuckle, “really?”

you nod, “i will.”

having you as a roommate wasn’t a bad a idea really…

Luca Kaneshiro 🦮🔆

the guild master

luca had always liked the idea of wielding weapons and he swore to himself at a young age that he would be able to master all art of fighting

this goal was what pushed luca into finding people who had the same interest as him, his group and community growing as he got older and better at wielding weapons

then he realized that he could make use of his talents for the good of the people around him

he officially named his group the kaneshiro guild and pledged that his guild would exist to help train whoever wanted to learn the art of fighting and protect those who needed help

the main reason why he tagged along with the other boys to the lava mountain wasn't because he was interested in looking for you

at the beginning it was because some of the men that had gone on an expedition got lost and hadn't returned to report

with vox and mysta already looking all over auphaines for you, luca figured if he went along, he could by chance find his men

however now that you needed a place to stay and vox saying it was better that you lived with someone who could protect you at all times

luca pitched in, flashing you a smile of reassurance, "i can do that! there are some vacant rooms back at the guild's building. my members are all very welcoming i assure you, your majesty. if anyone dares lay a hand on you, i'll have a talk with them myself."

at this, you smile, nodding. "if the kind sir is willing to have me, i will be grateful."

vox claps his hands together, "very well! luca, her majesty's safety is now in your hands until further discussion."

"you got it, vox!" he responds cheerfully, looking at you and outstretching an arm towards you. "shall we, milady?"

when people heard about luca's guild, their initial thoughts were a simple building likened to be a tavern or a rundown inn repurposed by luca's group

but you'd pleasantly surprised when it's a large fortress in the middle of town, men and women alike busily bustling in and out of the tall fortified building

"welcome back chief!" someone shouts upon passing by luca. another one says the same, then another then another

to luca, these people were like his family. they took care of each other, fought for one another's backs and they've seen their fair shares of tragedy together

which is why he was confident when he said that these people would not dare hurt you, especially if he asked for it

luca watches your face of wonderment, and it brings a wide smile to his face. he gently grabs your hand, which brings your attention to him, "you'll be safe here. treat it as your own home."

your eyes soften at his simple words. so you nod.

that night, luca introduced you to another important member, lucy. you swore they might've been twins separated at birth.

anyway, he had her show you where you'll be staying, including a tour of the fortress. you see that the building is complete with a training ground, weaponry, a library and enough rooms for the members.

luca truly was a good guild master and leader, seeing that he makes sure all the guild's needs are met

after getting properly bathed and dressed, luca himself comes by to go to your room. he waves at you, "hey! we usually have dinner together. so i came up to fetch you."

"oh that's quite alright," you step out of your room before closing the door behind you. "lead the way then. i'd love to meet your members."

at this, luca's eyes sparkle. "great! they'd love to meet you too, come, come!"

he practically drags you down to the huge dining room, flashing you a smile every time you rounded a corner. he just can't help it. it's been a while, if anything, it was the first time he had such a special guest stop by his guild

usually, people would be skeptical of even stepping near the fortress. mostly because they thought there would be nothing more than barbarians in there

because of this, luca also thought you'd be reluctant to come and opt for a house like vox's.

but you accept luca’s offer, no matter if you thought he had a house of barbarians and such

to him, that was one way to being someone worth fighting for

he brings you over to the dining hall, and immediately, the atmosphere changes from the quiet and still hallways to a lively and happy aura. it has always been this way, you see. luca never wanted to have a dinner where someone was not having fun, even if it was just a simple event of eating together on a daily basis

upon the new arrival, half the hall participants turns and when they realize it’s their respected chief, they shout, “good evening chief!” 

“hey everyone!” luca greets in return, grasping your hand and gently you tugging you next to him. “we have a guest this evening, lads! she came from… a long, long adventure and because she needs a big rest, she’ll be staying with the guild for a little while.”

“is she not a member, chief?” someone asks

luca sighs, shaking his head, “unfortunately, that’s not her purpose here. but who knows? you guys might help me change her mind!”

the hall returns to being lively and cheerful, this time in an attempt to persuade into joining their fun guild

despite only meeting these people, most of them strangers no less, you strangely felt at home. you would’ve thought the self exile would make you seem like a hermit but you’re surprised with yourself that you fit in with luca’s members

you wave at them, smiling, “i’ll think about it, alright?”

everyone starts clinking their mugs with each other, cheering as thought you have joined. 

“don’t worry,” luca whispers. “they won’t hold it against you if you don’t join.”

you giggle, mirroring his own words, “who knows? they might change my mind.”

luca’s mouth is slightly agape at your cheeky response. when you wink, he can’t help but turn away.

it’s then he realizes his heart is beating fast.

what were you doing to him? 

“chief! come on, let’s eat!” lucy calls out, waving over at a spot on a table. “y/n, come sit with us!”

after telling himself that it was just a spur of the moment thing, luca shakes off his sudden shy demeanor and makes his way over to a seat

everyone in the guild makes themselves known to you, introducing what they do specifically for the guild and what abilities they possess. some even went ahead to tell their proudest fights and adventures

even the younger ones braved themselves to ask you some of your own fights and adventures

nervous that they’d find out what you were, luca goes to cut them in, “hey now, have you finished your dinners? you’re not even letting the poor woman eat!”

you wave luca off, “it’s alright, luca.”

“you sure?” he frowns

you nod again, this time turning to the little ones who asked. “what would you like to hear about then?”

“how about your best fight?” 

you look up in thought, humming, “alright then, if you can handle a century old battle.”

luca raises a brow at you, but he’s surprised none of them take you seriously. then again, he was the only one in the room who knows what you are. 

“we could wait a thousand more years!” they respond.

you giggle, “alright then. you see, the fight began because one side thought their opponents should be feared. that they were arrogant. when in reality, these so called opponents were merely greater in power, they never meant to start any wars. if anything, they wanted to use their power for the good. but the opposing side didn’t think this. so they started a war.”

“how terrible! how could they do that?” one of them asks. 

luca knows that you were talking about the battle that brought down your kind. somehow though, your eyes don’t seem angry when retelling it. in fact, you look so ever kind and gentle as you continued your story. like it wasn't your tale to tell.

“these people were close minded back then. my side, whom were misunderstood, had to stagger back. we didn’t want to start a fight with anyone so we had to lose. but in the end, the opposing side mistook our surrender as a form of offense, so they finished us all off. i had to flee this battle,” your eyes show grief in one second, but luca doesn’t see it anymore in the next

just… what kind of person are you?

as kind as luca could be too, he could never place himself in your shoes. you even gave up your pride, but his kind as humans were still ignorant and went as far as still killing you all

one of the group of teens pointed out, “this is your proudest battle, miss?”

oh, and the fact you told them a story about your loss, even though they asked about your proudest

surely, you had something to be proud of? you were known as a warrior queen…

you simply smile at the teens, “yes indeed. it was my last actually. you might think it’s not a very wonderful ending battle. but to me, i gave up my lands so my opponents could build houses. i wish not to kill even a single life. besides, my opposing team showed great ability! i learn also that i have severely underestimated them!”

you laugh, which brought a smile to the withering faces of the ones asking you.

“i may have lost, but i was proud to have lost to such great opponents. gives me good reason to get even stronger, no?”

luca… had so much to learn from you, as he stared in awe with your storytelling abilities and how you could pick up such important life lessons despite that heart breaking battle

when one would’ve been incredibly angry and vengeful, somehow, you make it seem like you’re at fault and that you should still learn

luca finds within himself a new profound respect for you

this was why you were crowned queen

“luca?” you suddenly call him.

“sorry, you were saying?” he shakes his head once more that day from his frazzled mind. 

“your food. it’s getting cold,” you point out, causing the rest of the teens to laugh. 

luca grins, “i liked your story is all.”

and perhaps you as well.

the night falls and morning comes just as fast. luca finds himself in the strategy room along with his members, discussing a plan to keep searching for their missing men

“we’ve checked all over north, but we haven’t found anything,” someone reports.

luca sighs, “you’re sure north is where they went?”

they nod, “certain, chief. we saw footprints.”

“but they led nowhere else?”

this time, they shake their head.

then the door knocks. 

“come in!”

at the command, the door opens slowly and there you are, popping your head in to smile at everyone. your eyes shine a bit brighter when they meet luca’s

“oh, y/n good morning!” he greets, waving you over. “is there something you need?”

“nothing really,” then you spot the many sprawled sheets of paper and maps on the table. “pardon me, are you looking for something?” 

“we’re looking for some of our lost members, miss y/n,” someone in the room responds to you. “they’ve been missing for weeks now.”

“oh dear, where did they head?” 

“north,” luca answers this time. “we’ve headed there, but haven’t found anything.”

“i see. then you’re looking in the wrong direction.”

everyone looks at one another, even luca raises an eyebrow at your statement. but he trusts what you’re saying. you were a wise and knowledgeable person after all.

so he beckons you over to the table to help discuss

“elaborate then, y/n,” luca smiles

you turn to the largest map and see that it’s been marked, probably to mark the spots the guild has looked for

your finger points from the edge nearest the town, “they traveled from here. then they were last seen here?”

luca nods

“the north is where the shadowed forest is so it’s known to mislead. it has no trace of food or drink. since they’ve been missing for weeks already, i assume they’re already on their way to finding some sort of shelter. the closest village from the shadowed forest is northwest. if they climbed up the trees, they would see smoke from houses. so i suggest you head there.”

everyone hums in thought, agreeing that your plan seemed reasonable and worth trying

their chief paying extra attention to how you spoke, making sure not to leave out any important details like a real strategist would

luca announces, “our next plan then, everyone. we’ll start looking northwest, closest village to the shadowed forest. y/n, are you coming with?”

you shake your head, “i’ll catch up.”

but there was a mischievous glint in your eyes, one luca can't rly make out however he can’t help but feel excited for what you have in store

the men pack their things and luca is the one to lead, riding down to the shadowed forest northwest

he’d be lying if he said he didn’t wish to have you there on the trip. he just… wanted to see your more warrior queen spirit in action. how would you ride your horse? are you the more relaxed or do you ride strong head on?

what would you look like wielding a sword…?

luca shakes his head again, lost in the clouds of your images and what you could be

“chief?” a subordinate asks him from beside him

“yeah?” luca turns

“you’re red. something wrong?” 

oh-

“i-i'm fine!” the blonde warrior turns his head sideways, embarrassed beyond embarrassed. 

suddenly lucy rides up front and nudges luca by the feet, bringing his attention. “so, what do you think of her?”

“i’m not thinking about y/n!” 

“i didn’t say you were thinking of y/n.”

“LUCY!“

crows fly overhead from the loud scream of luca, whom lucy laughs at. 

“just take it easy. she’s a sweet girl,” lucy grins. but after a second, the smile on the girl’s face falters as she notices a dark shadow in the skies. luca looks up and sees something abnormal.  

it was brief but enough to leave such an impression

w-was that a dragon...?

moreover, was that you??

"i'll catch up."

the afternoon sun shone onto your scales, your more reptilian form ever so majestic and though it was but a mere second, he was able to catch a glance of your beautiful eyes

luca can't help but smile before he turns to his team, "follow everyone!"

he ignores their screams of pointing out the dragon in the skies, galloping just behind you.

god, you looked so beautiful...

in a matter of minutes, you've led luca's team to a nearby village and upon arriving, the first thing that comes into the peripheral view are the horses that belonged to their guild members

you fly away from the village, back into the shadowed where no one would see you

but luca hurriedly calls out for his missing men's names. they scramble out, relief washing over their faces seeing that their guild family had come to retrieve them

"come on, let's head back!" luca yells excitedly, to which they cheer happily and quickly gather their things. he turns to lucy, "lead them back to town. i've got something to take care of."

though confused, she lets her chief leave the crowd first.

luca charges for the shadowed forest, going into the direction you flew.

it didn't take long for him to find you, already shifted back to your human form. luca dismounts then approaches you

"thank you so much for helping us find them," he grins.

"it's no trouble, luca. i'm glad you did," you smile in return. although you were in your more human form, luca can't help but imagine you in your dragon body once more

just how pretty you looked. what you would've looked like fighting off his ancestors in that form

"luca?"

ah, did you catch him staring again...?

something from inside luca pushes him to say it. so he did, "you looked... really pretty. when you were in your dragon form. it's just that i can't look at you the same way after that."

blood rushes to your cheeks. "wh-why thank you... then would you like to see it again?"

luca nods, almost a bit too quickly. he can't help himself!

you giggle, "alright."

you raise your arms, scales beginning to grow on your human flesh. your face elongates and your teeth grow sharp and long. and just like that, your body had become five times your original size

you're in your primal form. the form you were born as when auphaines first found itself.

luca reaches a hand out to you and you nudge his callous palms with your nose gently

a wide smile spreads across his face, his cheeks dusted red out of admiration, "your majesty."

luca may have been fully human, having no real ties or obligation to protect like vox did. but with your unlimited kindness and lack of ability to differentiate between classes (or species for that matter), he bows, promising to you with his life:

"i am sworn to protect your majesty's life at all costs. please, let me fight alongside you."

he glances up and realizes you've shifted back, your eyes soft.

you take his hands, squeezing them.

you and luca, mutually unwilling to let go just yet.

"then i will allow it, sir luca."

Ike Eveland 🖋💙

the writer

ike was a renowned artist in the land of auphaines. he has written several best selling books throughout his career, released some of his own original songs and would sometimes be commissioned by theatre buildings to write a play for casts to perform

almost everyone in auphaines knew who he was

what was his goal to come to the lava mountains?

although ike favored creating his own pieces of literature, there was no shortage of him reading in his own time. whether that be other people's works or books of folklore

which is where he first heard about you

he read in one of his books a fairytale about a lost queen, said to be buried deep under the earth, only waiting for her loyal followers to find her again

ike was a skeptic

he has never seen a dragon, so he thought you weren't real

it's only when vox came by for one of their weekly routines of having tea together that the topic of searching for you came up

"she is very much real, my friend," vox told him, sipping his tea. ike squints his eyes.

"really? i think not."

the demon laughs, "oh, you'll change your mind when i find her again one day. actually, the lads and i have decided to go on a trip together to find her in the lava mountains. if we find her, you owe me a personalized song for my house."

ike rolls his eyes, "you won't get that song, sire. but i suppose it won't hurt to come along. i need a break from the city tension."

which is what brought him here, an unpaid song he has to write for vox.

but here you were, the woman whom his friends seem to easily believe was the lost dragon queen he had been reading about recently

you just... didn't hold the power of what he imagined a warrior queen to have

you seemed so frail and gentle mannered

how could you be the same person to have shaped the lands of auphaines and defeated old monstrous foes?

"my house is unfortunately filled with guests at the moment. her majesty won't have a place to stay at my mansion, i'm afraid, " vox frowns, bowing his head towards you in sincere apologies

"my house is way too dangerous for guests. too many experiments the team are conducting," the magic wielding man says, shaking his head in turn

"mine is a one bedroom apartment and it's messy with objects i've found recently. it might be too uncomfortable for her," mysta reasons.

the blonde warrior raises his hand in the air in defeat as well, "i'm busy looking for my missing men so i can't keep an eye on her either."

with all possibilities closed, the four men turns to their remaining member. ike.

he eyes each of his friends, seemingly offended, "are you asking me to do it?"

vox sighs, "we have no other choice, ike. besides, you live in the upper class district. it's quiet there. you don't leave the house much so you can keep an eye on her for us."

"oh, it's alright. if the gentleman feels burdened by my stay, i can always just continue to stay here," you proffer, patting the solid ground like it was a comfortable bed.

at this, ike's chest tightens in guilt.

it's not that he didn't wish to have guests at his house, it's that he's worried he won't be a good host. he was a busy man after all.

but he'd rather not have you, though known as the warrior dragon queen known by all, sleep near hot lava craters and a rocky ground as your mattress

ike sighs, "alright then. h-her majesty can stay at my house for the time being."

besides, how could he refuse your pretty eyes...?

holy fuck did he seriously think that--

back at his home, he shows you his only guestroom. it was decent enough for you, he thought but he desperately wished it could be a bit better

but it's all he had, so after giving you one of his sleeping robes and a somewhat androgynous outfit he had in his closet for you to wear in the day, he excuses himself for the night

sure, he's written many fairytales for people to read

living in one was something ike never thought he'd have to experience

actually, it was because of this particularly silly thought that kept ike awake. so he takes his notebook and quill set, opting to sit by the fire to write away into the night

it was one of the few things that could help distract him

but he pauses when he feels a cold breeze go down his back

ike turns and realizes one of the windows had been left open. he groans before going to close it, only to freeze once more when he realizes you are perched atop the rooftop

he had never seen anything so... magnificent

you stand just on the edge of the roof, your arms by your side and your face upturned towards the night sky.

but what attracts ike is the fact you have half shifted into the dragon form he's been doubting all this time

scales cover your body like an armor, your wings in full view as it gently flapped in the cool air of the night. your loose hair dances elegantly through the wind, the moon shining just behind you

then, your eyes meet ike's

oh, those beautiful eyes again

o-oh! you were looking at him!

ike turns away, clearing his throat. "sorry, i noticed the window was open. then i... noticed you out there. are you alright?"

you merely offer him a smile. then you step off the roof

"hey--" ike shouts, but he's cut short when your body comes soaring up again. he watches you reach the top of his house then dive back down to the open window

the novelist almost drops his things in surprise

you giggle, "i'm quite alright. it's just been a while since i've stretched my wings is all."

at the mention of them, ike can't help but steal a glance. they're the same color as your scales, glimmering under the moonlight.

"would you mind if i touched them?"

the question spills out of his mouth faster than his mind could process them. but before he can take it back, you perch yourself onto the windowsill and offer him both your wings

"of course not," you nod, beckoning for him to come closer.

you weren't doing anything, really. you just stood there at the window, offering one of your wings for ike to touch.

yet it felt like you were enchanting him

his fingers are already on the edge of your wing, and he's surprised they're softer than they look. one index finger became his entire palm as he felt through more of your wings

"they're so... beautiful," ike whispered. he turns to you and he realizes just how close he is to you. he backs away immediately. "so-sorry!"

giggling, you shake your head, "it's alright."

god, your gentleness is going to be the end of him

as comforting as it sounded to live amongst the higher class, ike would tell you a thousand times over how specifically the human faction of the elite can be incredibly snobby and arrogant

so he's had to face with very snobbish ladies who fancied him and the jealous "elegant" men who lived in the neighborhood

so to be able to have a roommate such as yourself was a good change of pace from all that

you had incredible cooking skills as well and it certainly helped reduce ike's time in not working. besides domestic life, you surprised ike when he one day found you in his library

you sift through the collection he has, and when you find one that catches your eye, you would sit by the fire and read it until ike reminded you it was time to eat

but he'd be lying to himself if he said that you didn't look so adorable curled up on one of the lounging chairs (his favorite, mind you), blankets in your lap and reading by firelight

it almost looked like... you belonged there. he didn't mind having this kind of view whenever he exits the study

"enjoying your read?" ike beams softly as he sat in the chair across, never once letting you know you were sitting on his favorite chair.

you peak up from your book, nodding. "quite, yes. you have fantastic taste, ike. and skills."

the novelist raises an eyebrow. then you grin, holding your book up and showing that you were reading his book

his cheeks flush, throat suddenly stuffed. "i-i see. i'm glad you're enjoying it then. i work hard on all of my books."

"i can tell. literary art is a wonderful but also complex art to master."

that he can agree with you.

you then frown slightly, "ike, would you mind if i gave you feedback?"

oh?

"no, none at all! i encourage it, in fact," ike sits a bit straighter, looking at you expectantly with eyes wide of excitement. sure, he's received much fan mail (both professional and not) about his work, but having it come from you felt different

was it because you were an old creature who's seen the earth move for centuries?

perhaps to ike, the praise felt more of quality coming from you because... it was you.

you then begin to flip through the bookmarked pages, pointing out what you felt off or praised the part where it got your heart to beat so fast. ike attentively writes them all down on his notebook, never missing a word that fell from your lips

"so far, that's what i have. i'll tell you more once i've finished it," to this, ike nods graciously and then you return to sticking your nose into the book.

once again there you were, curled up warmly in his clothes reading his book

he forgot for a moment there that you were a dragon goddess. you just looked so... preciously human? it felt like he was on one standing with you

sure, being a queen, dragon goddess, creator of auphaines and all that

but to simply have y/n in his house, accompanying him do his work

this was why he was not interested in the elite ladies

somehow, ike eveland favored the simple ones. those who don't really ask for much. nothing but himself. not for his talents or his riches.

why did he think he like he was going to court you?

ike sighs to himself then goes to stand, wishing to leave you to your reading. but the loose papers in his notes shuffle out and sprawls itself across the floor

this brought your attention away from the book as you bend down to help collect the scattered pages

then your fingers incidentally brush against ike's. almost like you've both been electrocuted, you pull away hastily.

"pa-pardon me, y/n," ike laughs nervously, turning away.

you can't help but giggle, grabbing the sheet of paper and handing it back to him. he takes what you gave him, slipping it back between the intact pages of his notebook. he nods in thanks.

"oh, there's one more," you point out, catching a glimpse of one more gone-rogue paper just about near the hearth. you bend down once more to get it, but your eyes scan over its contents. your eyes widen, "th-the dragon queen?"

ike's face falters.

that was the poem he wrote about you some nights ago.

"um, could you hand that back please?"

but you seem to already be reading it, much to ike's embarrassment

she slowly awakes from under the embers, the sunlight of the world shining down on her greedily as they welcome her majesty's return. there she stood, blessing the earth with her ever so gentle smile, baring kindness no human could spare. although an angry and unfair war weighs on her despaired heart, the dragon queen does not hiss at her old foes. instead she walks tall and remains ignorant of what befell her. for she does not see the ancient past. a true leader, the lord, the dragon goddess, the queen, y/n.

ike could not describe you in any other words than what he mentioned in that small poem

his heart just had to spill it out

so, he nervously awaits your reaction. but you merely blush and grin, holding the poem close to your heart. this makes ike's face flush just as pink

"it's beautiful," you whisper, a certain glimmer in your eyes when you spoke to the illustrious writer they call ike eveland

he responds, "and... you are too."

well, you've read his poem, might as well, right?

you then walk towards him, standing on your toes to place a chaste kiss on his cheek.

a writer, living in his own true romantic fantasy...

ike smiles, bringing you in for a hug.

Shu Yamino 🔮✨

the sorcerer

sorcery was one of the many things humankind was both proud and terrified of having. which is why people don't always smile and greet shu when he visits the city

but shu couldn't care any less

his family was a long line of great sorcerers, him as the next generation

he liked what sorcery could do too. it's helped him so many times in the past so there wasn't much for him to be really ashamed of.

the few people who were interested in it often came to shu for guidance, customers who needed it frequented his shop too along with his fellow sorcerer friends

so what is his connection with you and why tag along on the adventure to the lava mountains?

two reasons actually

the first reason was because vox needed another pair of arms in venturing the dangerous lands near the lava mountains. he wasn't known as one of the most able sorcerer in auphaines for nothing after all

the second reason was because he was interested. as a man of magic, it was imperative that he learned all things mythical, even as far back as ancient dragons that were said to be wiped out completely

but when vox informed him of his main goal of looking for the remaining heir of this extinct dragon kind, shu's curiosity peaked

dragons, the original creators, how his sorcery came to be in the first place

he had to see this if it was actually true

thus here he was with his four friends, you, the supposed last of your kind, the dragon queen herself

but shu had to be honest

he was a bit underwhelmed when he saw only your human form. to be completely honest, he wanted to see your dragon body so he could confirm for himself that his history books were wrong into thinking your kind had fully ceased to exist

but he couldn't judge you

you were real, as vox claimed

"would you be comfortable living among humans, my queen?" vox asks you.

seeing your hand clench slightly and your eyes avoiding that of the demon's was enough to say that you were a bit nervous about the idea.

"i wouldn't want to cause anything is all... i'm sure the stigma about dragons being the antagonists still exists," you sigh, offering a gentle smile at the men.

"um, i don't mind having her stay at my house though," shu suggests, surprising even himself for volunteering. he adds, "she can disguise easily with the other sorcerers so other humans wouldn't have to look twice."

"that's not a bad idea, shu," the writer agrees, nodding. "i directly live with humans. mysta although in the countryside gets many human customers at his store. and vox lives at the heart of the city where humans are at too."

"i'm afraid my house is also full with guests currently, which further proves your point," then the demon turns to you. "i hope these accommodations are alright, my queen?"

sorcery came from you after all, so if you were going to be alright living with humans, the next best option is sorcerers. the man named shu seemed very trust worthy as well.

"i'm grateful for it," you nod, standing on your feet.

"well," shu scratches the back of his head, beaming. "i hope you're alright with a few explosions here and there."

once you saw the gates to the city, the other four bid you goodbye, with vox promising a visit as soon as possible. shu gestures towards the little path towards the woods.

"this way, your majesty," he steps ahead, you just following behind.

"how do sorcerers fare these days, shu?" you suddenly inquire on the journey.

shu hums, "well, not the best but it has gotten better. we've been accepted into society at least. but some people are still afraid of it."

"some?"

"yes. there is no little amount who would come to my magic shop once in a while to buy a charm or the sort. they're the few who believe sorcery is not dangerous," shu shrugs. "to be honest, it should be accepted more. so long as people don't misuse it."

"i agree with you. i gave it to you so it could make your lives easier after all."

and shu forgot for a whole second that he was walking with a millennia old dragon beside him. he takes a glance at you, in your human form and all.

such an interesting creature you were indeed...

you and him finally reach the row of cottages that resided in the woods, a large store filled with magical trinkets you guessed where shu worked at became the centerpiece of the woodland neighborhood

shu leads you just behind the building and into the cottage you assumed belonged to him

inside, you are surprised when you see many books strewn about; containing divination spells, ritualistic texts and passages that told what purpose one ingredient had

there was a huge table in the center of the room filled with all sort of alchemical equipment. there was a row of finished potions or ointments, some still in progress judging by the labels, and there are crates of raw ingredients yet to be used

"sorry, it's a little messy in here," shu offers you a sympathetic smile, to which you graciously return.

"it's quite alright. if anything, i feel very much at home seeing all this," you then approach the work table, observing the many diagrams shu was working on. "what are you working on exactly?"

"a customer commissioned a concoction that could help revive a dead plant," shu answers, taking a seat on one of the high stools with a huge sigh. "the samples i've created so far have only worsened its state though..."

and he's been working on this particular potion for a really long time, yet to no avail. even his co workers in the same field could not get the desired result

shu begins to flip through a tome and you can't help but lean over to involve yourself

"may i see where you've gotten so far?"

the sorcerer nods, sliding over his research and calculation sheets. "the main ingredient that seemed to be a good start was acramire. the changing variables were temperature and method of processing. also of course differing ingredients."

you put a finger to your chin, "acramire seems to be a good foundation indeed. have you tried using low temperatures and eezelas?"

seemingly interested in your ideas, shu immediately gets the right tools to do per your instructions.

he's surprised when he doesn't know any of the techniques you explain to him. but you patiently guide him with such expertise

at the end of the experiment, shu has the sample ready. he pulls out a dead plant (one he's ruined before) and puts a few drops into the soil

you and him watch it expectantly, and he's pleasantly surprised when the stems start to catch green again, the flower blooming with immense speed

"woah, it actually worked!" shu grins, applauding. "thank you so much, your majesty!

you shake your head, "you were already heading to the right direction, shu. give yourself some credit too."

the sorcerer laughs sheepishly, his cheeks glowing red from the compliment.

shu would've thought that you were just going to be his temporary roommate, but he never figured you could be such an amazing lab partner

a sorcery professor perhaps fit you better actually

the customer who first requested the revitalizing potion was beyond impressed and continued to ask for more agricultural potions that could benefit his garden

from this success, the news spread out to the entire city, people came looking for shu's store thanks to your aid

it brought many exciting nights experimenting together to create the right mixtures with the specific results

you weren't the original creator of auphaines for nothing if you hadn't been able to figure out what the customers need

in the process of this, shu learns more than he could've back at the academy of sorcery. he learns old techniques and the hidden purpose behind the ingredients he had more than his textbooks could ever imagine to explain

and the way you would word everything so patiently just so he could understand alongside you

you were a queen, weren't you? not a skilled teacher...

either way, he's so glad he volunteered to house you

he's used to being alone in his little lab/cottage, tinkering with the many different ingredients he could get his hands on in the woods and making (mostly safe) explosions here and there

but whenever you leave to take a walk, shu finds himself aching to have you back

to teach him more about alchemy

to teach him more about incantations

to teach him more about... you

currently, you sit quietly across from him on the working table reading a thick tome about old spells. surely you wouldn't need to learn anything new?

the room is only lit by a few candles and the hearth by the corner; the cracking fire, the occasional flips of the pages and the sound of clinking equipment from shu

it all felt so right

would he be too greedy if he wished to house you for longer?

then the door suddenly knocks, despite being late into the night. you look up from your book to glance at shu, who shakes his head confused

he hops off the stool and swings the door open to reveal a group of his sorcerer friends holding torches and wearing very panicked expressions

"shu, the scalcisas are back. we need your help," one of them pleads desperately as sweat drips down their forehead.

ah, scalcisas. the wolves who lurk in the shadows, who run and hide like the darkness itself. literally.

they are to be feared, especially found in woods like these. they easily sneak into civilian territory without much struggle and capture lives silently

but with the skilled sorcerers in the area, it's no wonder that they manage to detect when the fierce scalcisa would come near. but they are not creatures who easily give up

at the announcement, shu quickly grabs his coat and steps out.

you shut your tome close and skip to the door, saying, "may i join you?"

shu shoots you a worried glance, but he sighs, beckoning you to come with, "alright then. just be careful."

you step outside as he closes the door behind you, and the group who came to fetch shu led you to the edge of the district of sorcerers. there you could sense the dark creatures lingering in the dark, waiting for the right moment to strike

half the sorcerers there were pale, despite having experienced this many times before

shu is on the front battle line, summoning pink and purple fires in one hand

"wait!" you suddenly shout, causing everyone to jump at your loud voice. shu turns to you, fire still ready in his palm as you walk forwards.

the others seemed to be whispering for you to stop being stupid or being rash. some even braved themselves to come forward to hold you back

but shu trusted that you knew what you were doing, so he holds up a hand, telling them to lay their hands away from you

you stand right on the forest floor, eyeing the creatures whose eyes are now trained on you

what surprised everyone is how you growl at the scalcisas. like you were speaking their language.

your hand is raised into the air, pointing outwards back into the inky black woods. but most importantly, you don't look angry when you do.

the scalcisas inch into the light, every single one of them. but you don't even quiver when they are a mere feet away from you

instead, they bow once and retreat back into the dark

you turn, offering a smile to the nervous sorcerers including shu, "they promise to not return here. but they would appreciate it if you left them some food from time to time."

"how do you know they won't return?" someone in the crowd asks

you wave him off dismissively, "i spoke to them. and they spoke back, of course. that's how conversations work, no?"

everyone looked at you like you had gone crazy

but shu looked at you like you had just returned from a great war, a sense of heavy respect for you

admiration for you

"thank you, y/n," he bows, then turning to his friends. "she speaks the truth. don't underestimate her. she has... special abilities."

if the great sorcerer shu spoke for you, then they knew to trust you. so they shrug it off, thanked you for your aid and went their merry way back home

on your own journey back, shu can't help but smile as he asked you, "do you mind teaching me dragon?"

you giggle, slapping his arm. "i'm afraid you'll need a dragon's body for that, shu. besides, i used an old language. not one you'd understand."

he slows down a bit, which makes you stop as well.

"i... " he trails off, his ears reddening a bit. "i wouldn't mind spending my time learning with you. even if it took me a lifetime."

shu takes a deep breath in before deciding to look you in the eye, "n-not just about the language. since you came over, i've learned so many new things and i feel very comfortable with your teaching methods. but, it makes me think. that i wish i could learn more about you as a person. would you allow me to do that?"

you blink at him, unmoving for a few seconds. then you outstretch your hand to him, the most beautiful smile on your face since he met you. you just looked so... happy.

"i'd teach you all the things this world hasn't told you, shu. even about myself."

there you were, holding his rapidly beating heart with your gentle hands. shu could never imagine it anywhere else.

"thank you," he whispers, enlacing his fingers with yours as you walk back to his cottage that night and for the many nights learning about each other to come.

a tiny glossary bcs i cOuLDNT HELP MYSELF

acramire: a rare alchemical ingredient made from the soils of all four of auphaines' different terrains and purified water from the lifbringan waterfall auphaines (demonym: auphainian) from aurum "gold" and phainesthai "appear", said to have been named because the original creators of auphaines were born from the light eezela (plural: eezelas): a leaf plant that grows in clusters near the lifbringan waterfall, usually only found during twilight hours scalcisa (plural: scalcisas): from scato "shadow" and volcica "wolf". said to have been the reincarnation of a deceased old dragon who befriended the shadows, then slowly took on the form similar to a wolf caused by evolution

Masterlist!

[starboundanon]

22 and or 23?

23. Vader/Anakin Timewarp Fuckery

tw: selfcest (preluding to), canonically dark!Vader, time travel bs

To Mustafar, young Skywalker must go, Master Yoda had said, his face older, yet indiscernible as always. Your destiny, find there you will. Yoda had aged a century and a half in the twenty-two years Anakin Skywalker had jumped forward in time. But in one way, he had not changed at all; he was still as cryptic as ever, speaking in riddles as ambiguous as the Force itself.

Yet Anakin had no choice but to follow the road revealed to him. If what Master Yoda said was true, there was still a way to fix this — this hateful future where everyone and everything he had ever loved had been lost, no matter how shrilly the Force sang to him in warning. He had no idea what would be waiting for him on Mustafar. But after waking up more than two decades in the future, that was true everywhere.

Even still, he’d not been expecting the small sun that greeted him when he dropped out of hyperspace. Golden fire, red lava, black rock — Mustafar was dark and bright all at once, and heavily guarded, with pilots so skilled Anakin had to actually apply himself to land without being shot down. These were no ordinary soldiers, average pilots assigned to patrol the skies. These were experts, brutally trained and hand-forged, existing for one purpose and one purpose only: whatever was waiting for him on the planet’s fiery surface, they were meant to keep him at bay.

But Anakin could not be dissuaded. There was no Padmé in this future. No baby. No Obi-Wan, or Ahsoka. No Jedi Order, no Republic, no one he knew at all, save for Master Yoda and the friendly Chancellor who had apparently betrayed them. No. Anakin would not be stopped. There was nothing for him here. He would find a way to reverse it, to save everyone, or he would die trying.

A castle blacker than a starless sky rose hundreds of feet out of the molten rock, looming over him. Anakin cut his way through red-robed guards and security droids, every one of his senses on high-alert. “Who is the Lord of this castle?” he shouted, snarling when a plasma-tipped lance swung for his face, nearly beheading him. “Tell me who you serve!”

The guards would not answer. Frustrated, Anakin reached out through the Force and propelled them backward, slamming them against the obsidian walls of the Great Hall. The Force came to him easily — easier than it ever had before, even when he was young, and followed its guidance as blindly trusting as his own mother. Here, in this dark, cruel place, the Force felt slick, coiling around him in a slippery grasp, biting cold despite the sweltering heat all around him. Anakin knew the answer to his question, then. Regardless of who presided over this castle, the Dark Side was the true ruler here.

Skywalker.

Anakin shivered, his knees locking up. A voice beckoned him in the Force, deep and dark and frightfully inhuman. It was familiar, in an odd, off-putting sort of way, though he knew he had never met anyone who spoke in that uniquely terrifying tone. It reminded him, oddly, of meeting Padmé at nine years old. She’d been a stranger, yet even that first time, she somehow felt familiar to him. This felt much like that, except for all the ways it was oppositely worse.

Luke. Come to me.

That made him pause. Luke? Who was Luke? The voice had called to him — it knew him as Skywalker, recognized him as he had recognized it. He closed his eyes and reached back, tried not to flinch at the cold fire that greedily enveloped him as he did. Oh, whatever was waiting for him in the belly of this castle was incandescent with the Dark Side of the Force. It shined like a beacon of black fire, so cold it burned his skin, made it hard to breathe. His lungs hurt. His limbs ached. The creature beckoning him into its maws was wreathed in suffering, and clearly, hellbent on making sure everyone knew it.

He clenched his teeth, suppressing another shiver, and pressed on. There were no more guards to block his way. Just the suffocating heat and the pitch-black stone covering miles and miles of featureless hallway. He had the vague sense that he was going up, steadily ascending the great dark tower he’d landed beside, but there no markers to confirm that theory.

You have come at last, the voice gloated, darkly pleased. You cannot resist me.

Don’t get too full of yourself, Anakin thought, really not caring if the voice heard him or not. You’re my only way out of this nightmare.

Your anger is most impressive, young one. The voice practically purred in satisfaction. You have changed. The fires of Mustafar are cleansing you, as they did me.

He felt the sensation of burning on his skin, bubbling, itchy. Sweat dripped from his brow, he wiped it from his eyes with his sleeve. It was getting colder the further he walked, the closer he got to the owner of the voice. But that didn’t stop the sweat from clinging to his skin, a mix of pain and nerves, shared and halved by the mysterious being leading him into what was most certainly a trap.

But he had no other choice.

For his family. For his loved ones. For the galaxy, he had to press on.

The voice hissed at him, curious and discontented. Your foolish idealism will be the death of you, Skywalker. So it did know who Anakin was. Why, then, had it called him ‘Luke’? There is no escape. Your destiny lies with me. Obi-Wan knew this to be true.

Anakin stumbled to a halt. Obi-Wan? He gasped, bombarded by a memory that was not his own; an old, weathered face, silver hair and greying beard, but the same blue eyes he knew better than anyone else’s. A smile, wise beyond his many years. And a blood-red lightsaber cutting him down, slicing him directly through the heart, though there was no blood, no viscera, no body. Just a pile of faded Jedi robes, cushioning the familiar hilt of a lightsaber. OBI-WAN.

With a shout, Anakin summoned the Force like a tidal wave and sent it crashing forward, destroying all in its path, finding a heavy set of durasteel doors and blowing them off their hinges. He stalked through them, seething, blind with rage, and barely noticed the glowing bacta tank in the center of the room. Twelve red-robe guards charged at him, but he didn’t ignite his blade, not this time. He felt their bones crack, watched the light of their lives flicker to nothing in the Force as he bashed them against duracrete walls.

“You,” he hissed, seeing the bacta tank at last, thundering toward the mangled occupant floating in its waters. “You killed Obi-Wan.”

No, the voice answered. His head was bowed, lowered toward his chest. Curled up like a fetus. Anakin stopped before the tank, glaring at his own reflection in its surface. He didn’t understand the turbulent emotions this being was sharing with him, all of a sudden. Surprise. Disbelief. Grief, pain, sadness. The creature lifted his head. To Anakin’s horror, he recognized that face, burned, scarred, amber-eyed, staring at him as though it were a mirror. We did.

Send me one of @brassknuckled's WIPs, I'll write a fan snippet!