#thanks foe the asks dear xD

[irrfahrer]

Sinday Spill🤡🤐😳 bc now tumblr is making me second guess if I actually sent this to you or not LMAO

Sinday Spill!

🤡 A time they made an absolute fool of themself "Oh, another embarassing story about my kriffing sexlife? Do you want to make me kriffing suffer? Okay, to make you laugh- the most kriffing embarassing and shortest quickie I had in public was with a sweet Bothan Lady on some random starstations sickbay. You know, like - ruby red pelt, eyes like honey- like damn. Just damn. She was the kriffing sweetest. So we had been sneakinging around another the whole day, you know, the whole kriffing mating-dance its every time: eyecontact, accidentally finding ways to touch another, stealing glances, knowing smiles, secret whispers, ambiguous comments only we who are totally kriffing horny for another could understand. Aaaaaalllllll kriffing day! It was a kriffing torture!" Ziv rolled her eyes, laughing so loud that her bared sharp teeth shimmered like ivory. "And when we eventually got to be alone on the sickbay,we were justabout to get it on seriously and guess what happned, she grabbed me and I was very okay with it, yet what I had not been okay with was that she sat me down on a gourney and accidentally with that right on a injection with kriffing hard anaesthetic. One minute and I was gone, kriffing gone! I had waited the whole kriffing day to get laid by that beautiful lady and I kriffing fell asleep one kriffing minute after we started! Force just hates me! Really!", She huffed, whiskers bristling in indignation like from electricity. "Obviously the sweet lady did not forgave me that I fell asleep under her before we could even start properly kriffing around and did not talked to me again.", she placed a small, white paw on her chest and let go of a overly dramatically sigh that was too loud and too scenic to be real: "The pain is still kriffing there, woe kriffing me, I am kriffing suffering."

🤐 Safeword, why they chose it, and what event, if any, made them decide to add it "Hot stones.", the young woman looked as if something slimey and wet was running down her back: "So, you know, I had never been a fan of planets with hot temperatures, so I bounded with the guy one of my clients had put beside me to watch over me while I went out every morning to fetch some herbs before the heat got too unbearable. For both of us, because he was a whipid and mammals made for icy planets better stick together and this kriffing kriffery. Anyway, we got along well and-" The young woman shrugged and looked even more agonized: "Weeeeeell, i am always a fan of going for it where the urge is coming, so after some flirting and his hand already on my ass, I just thought, eh why not if he is so into it, climb him like the mountain he is and thats okay and we both are happy. Welll, anyway...he wanted to be on top and I am a krifing people-pleaser and the morningsun got really hot and-I swear, i had kriffing scorchmarks on my kriffing ass! I couldn´t sit down for weeks afterwards, like Kriff the Force, It was sooo kriffing bad!"

😳 A time where they tried something new and liked it "Tentacles!", Ziv blurted the word so fast it seemd she woud win a price for it, a bright light was in her big eyes: "Listen, I respect and love every kriffing feature and bodypart possible on sentient aliens as soon as the owner of said bodyparts can flirt properly enough to make me laugh, but I also have to say after years of what I had seen on the Holonet when a partner wanted to watch some kriffing research-kriffery for inspiration-if -you-know-what-I-mean, I might had gotten a little uncomfortable with the notion of beeing, uh-" She grimaced a little, waddling her small paw in the air and making a quiet "eeeeeeeh" noise: "-of having body parts on and in me that are not kriffing fingers, hands or genitals." "Aaaaany-kriffing-way, I met a Parwan and I really fast learned that I am really kriffing weak to sentences like "Is it OK if I follow you out of here? My parents always told me to follow my dreams." and kriff my life did he indeed followed me for the evening, got me drinks and set one kriffing pick-up-line after another. I only got back to their appartment with them, becaus if they would have contineud to make me laugh, I would have died of suffocation. It was a serious life or dead situation, you see. For the rest of the night I was kriffing all theirs and they were very kriffing determinated to proof me wrong. Like, don´t get me wrong, Parwans HAVE kriffing hands but they also had something to proof." Ziv smiled, wriggling her fluffy ears like a happy puppy: "They did. They also made me kriffing pancakes in the morning, I mean I couldn´t kriffing eat them because I can´t disgest gluten, but we still sat together and we shared the sweet fruitsauce they wanted to serve to the pancakes, kriff, they had been so krififng sweet. But yeh, I had to flee very kriffing fast, before they had started to spurt out their jokes and little flirts again, because if they would have started I would have kriffing married them there and than." Theatralically she sighed, shaking her head dramatically: " I am not the Forc strongest creature, not at kriffing all."

[echosong-87]

How does branch and poppy fall in love in moonlit prince?

Oooh!! XD

I got the answer!!!…. It’s a funny idea of “she fell outa heaven” sorta meme!!

Remember in the cannon-verse that Poppy tried to sneak out Pop village on a hot air balloon? Right?…. To go off seeing/meeting Barb in the first place… and yeah.

I kinda had this idea that it was Smidge that first build the thing, cause she wants to go out and explore beyond the Village’s boarders and see what else is there… so during that small time Smidge build the balloon with all its fancy keys and whistles like in the cannon plot….

So once Smidge was done with the whole building and teat driving thing to make sure her explorer’s ride works…. She showed off to the snack pack and Poppy!

Everyone was excited and looked all around the ship, and tried to touch everything…. But luckily Smidge did told them all to not touch or boop any button… but guess what?

A little troll name cooper saw a pretty button and pressed it… like the one Poppy pressed in the cannon story… the hot air balloon went haywire and zoomed everywhere like a bat outta hell.

But in this story.. most of the gang were hanging on or clutching onto the balloon for dear life!!… Creek was the one who somehow managed to crawl/climb towards the button that Cooper pressed, but once it was pressed again it stopped with a jerk, and it knocked off poor Poppy right off.

The whole ship stopped above the Classical troll territory, and they were above the old battle grounds of a broken nearby set of homes.. and Branch was there aiding help for his subjects, and he was there heaving the rubble, heavy stones, and broken pieces of houses to see if there were anyone under that need medical aid and so forth.

He did managed to push back Barb and her army off by his own set of music thanks to the conductor’s wand… or baton? 🤔That housed the power string… and yeah, Branch’s set of music are like those musical scores, that were used in cinemas like Hans Zimmer and his pieces: interstellar, time, to die for, and much more.

And of course his flying prowess… he knew the skies far more better than Barb and her army… so when she did tried to concur Branch and his kingdom(or soon to be.. since he was still a prince at the time) she bite off more than she could chew sorta vibe…. And yeah.

XD

Anywho back to the answer!!

He heard screaming from above him, couldn’t really figure it out due to his own wounds and pushing already past his own limits to help give aid into rebuilding his kingdom… so it felt like a weird dream for him… as he set down the last broken stone wall after pulling out a trapped Classical troll from under there… he noticed that the screaming kept coming and it sounded like it was growing louder and closer.

Branch looked around to see nothing, and then looked up where he locked eyes with a pretty pink troll right before disaster!! In a heap of tangled legs and arms with feathers floating here and there… Poppy did apologize and asked if he was ok but Branch was overly tired and like that lights out!!

It’s like once set down the stone and look around then up that’s where he “fell head over heels foe her” pun not intended but he literally did fell over for her when Poppy crash landed on him.

XD. I hope you like this answer!! I do tend to ramble so much!! So sorry bout that. But thank you for the answer!

:3

[polarisbibliotheque]

Hey there, i just read a shard of ice and its really good! Also your love for the witcher series <3 Do you think Vergil would do what Geralt does with his last wish from the djinn? Where he binds his and yen's fate together? Thank you!^^

Helloooo! Oh I'm so glad you enjoyed that one, it was really personal to me ^^

And YES, I love The Witcher!! I have to go back reading the books - Yen and Geralt's relationship is one of my favourites even if it isn't perfect. I'd argue it's precisely because it isn't perfect.

Plus, I love Geralt's adventures as a witcher around the world. It's always a treat to read ❤

Now, regarding your ask about Vergil... ABSOLUTELY. He's a dramatic storm that is approaching, 10/10 would do that.

But let's dive into it!

For those who don't know, in the first book of The Witcher series, The Last Wish, our dear Geralt de Rivia falls for Yennefer and, as she is about to be killed by a djinn who is very much pissed at her (long story), Geralt has a last wish to be fullfilled by said djinn. He ties his fate to Yen's and thus the djinn cannot kill her - saving her in the proccess. She thinks he is out of his mind because she sees what he just did as a way to doom himself, but he doesn't care. Of course, Yen falls for him but she's too proud and prizes her freedom too much to officially tie herself to Geralt.

Like I said, they are complicated and less than perfect. It's wonderful ❤

Now to our beloved Vergil.

He would NEVER do it to a loved one if there were other alternatives to save their life. BUT, if that was the ONLY choice, he would.

Since the whole last wish thing is with Yen, not Ciri, I'm going to take a look at Vergil's relationship with a romantic partner ;)

Of two things we are certain about him: Vergil can survive virtually anything and drag his body through the most adverse of situations by sheer will; and he is traumatized and afraid to lose those he loves/being unable to protect them.

If by any chance he and his s/o ever found themselves on a situation where the only solution is to tie his s/o fate to his for them to survive, Vergil would do it without flinching.

After all, he spent his whole life in a mindless quest for power to be able to protect himself - and others, even if he tries to deny it with all his might. He is indeed powerful and able to protect himself against the most vicious of foes - he can't say the same about his s/o. So, if his s/o's fate is tied to his, it won't be by his death that they will perish. It will never be by his death.

Of course, does he take into consideration the heartache that such a powerful bond can create? Like our dearest Geralt, no. Vergil is cold and calculating, sure, but he has a short temper streak just like his brother. The only difference is that, unlike Dante, Vergil doesn't go all out screaming and going in a volcano flaming demon frenzy - he glares and goes in an ice cold demon frenzy. But they are both short tempered, no one can change my mind on that one xD

Vergil can and will use logic and calculate everything. He will be cautious, observing and swift when dooming his enemies. But, if you take him by his heart, you'll have controlled-by-emotions Vergil. He doesn't really know how to deal with those, so they are mostly dreanched in anger, hurt, trauma, melancholy and protection instinct. His logic is out of question, the only thing left is a tunnel focus on being powerful to protect the one thing that can break his glass-fragile heart once more.

He can't afford to lose the very few things he has. He is 100% emotion driven, he does whatever he must (you know, like the whole DMC 5 ordeal to friggin' survive). When he's back at himself again, their fates are already tied.

And honestly? That can be his death sentence - it can shatter his heart, tear his soul apart, cause him grief and mourning in the long run... But he doesn't regret it. He never will.

It might end like Yen and Geralt in the books, or Yen and Geralt in the games. Either way, he would consider himself lucky to, after everything he did and lived through, love and be loved in such an intense way, be its end bitter or sweet.

Gods, I LOVED your question. HAHAHA thank you for sending it! It was surely a lovely thing to think about! I hope you have a great week ❤

[thelostguardianau]

The Lost Guardian- Chapter Eight

“Heed the Silenced”

(Authors note: aha.. yknow I should probably stop making promises for this fic. Months later, w/ a chapter that doesn’t have Thomas in it, three different outlines down and i’m really just at the mercy of this fic at this point xD considering midway through writing this chapter I had to cut and rewrite an entire scene i’d spent a month on bc I’d decided that Dee had a chance at redemtion that added an actual direction and a tangable end goal to this story. So. Yeah. And!! A loud Thank You!! to @bumblebeekitten for helping me bounce ideas back & forth for this au and being my beta for this chapter!!)

Character Info & Art:

Patton | Logan | Roman | Virgil | Remy | Deceit | ??? | ???

Chapter Seven | Chapter Nine

Fandom: Thomas Sanders Sides

Pairings: Eventual Polyamsanders (LAMPR/CALMR-a.k.a LAMP/CALM + Remy ‘Sleep’ Sanders)

Warnings: THIS CHAPTER IS KINDA DIALOG HEAVY!(sorry) Currently depicted as morally grey Deceit(subject to change in future chapters), though the side of Deceit from his first appearance doesnt make an appearance in this chapter and it is explained why, mentions of past betrayal and dark descriptions of bodily concepts, curses, limitations, and changes only really explained as possible through the lore of this au. Deceit speaks in riddles because he has to, ominous warnings. Virgil still isn’t okay mentally. Mentions of indifference to death, lack of selfworth or self preservation. (Let me know if I need to add anything!)

[[MORE]]

Brown eyes flutter open at the chilly breeze of a fan, and the ravenette’s mind comes to realize that he’s been moved from resting on his stomach to laying on his back. Groggy from his much too short nap, it takes a few moments to realize there are no warm bodies near him or under him, no breathing or chatter of familiar voices to sooth him.

The room, he realizes, is empty.

The room itself is, in fact, not Remy’s bedroom at all.

Shooting straight up, Virgil’s first clear thought is that he’s back at home. At his apartment, this time in his hoodie yet still roughed up from his latest ‘adventure’. The scene is eerily familiar, and yet he knows this time that work is not where he needs to be. It’s already daylight and his mind now knows this familiar scene, he should feel alone. Yet, this time he can hear the sound of honking cars and people, his loud neighbor from upstairs stomping around.

It doesn’t make sense as he walks to his window and peers out to see vague cars and people, he can’t even seem to make out any individual faces. It’s grey and raining outside, but there is no pattering sound against the foggy window. ‘What’s happening?’ Virgil wonders.

“Life seemed so simple a week ago, even months ago, did it not..?” A familiar voice drifts from behind him. Ice cold fear shoots down the ravenette’s spine as he recognizes the voice.

“I can hardly believe you were able to leave it, your routine. It was your everything, back when you came to terms with what you had left. Am I wrong, Virgil?” Whirling around to face the voice, Virgil finds the terrifying ex-Guardian sitting on his couch looking quite at home, if a little sheepish.

“What do you care?” He spat back, stepping back against his window.

“I am only looking out for you, you know. I have been protecting you all your life. Of all people I think I would know what is best for you, don't you think? We are connected after all, you and I.” The man sighed, making a surrendering motion with his hands.

“Why would I trust you?! You tried to kill me yesterday!” Virgil growled. “Why--h-how are you even here!?”

“False, my dear Virgil. I tried to warn you. Sure,” The guardian rolled his hand as he spoke, “I am forced to have a round-about way of speaking my truths, it is just part of my consequences it seems. But how else was I going to get you to listen to me after the others fed you lies about me? I do sincerely apologize for my other half being rough, though. I cannot quite.. Control.. Him.” The guardian tilted his bowler hat down to guiltily hide his eyes, regret briefly twisting his expression.

Finally the Guardian stood, dusting himself off as if his immaculate attire had acquired dust from just existing in his apartment. “I needed my physical body to reach yours and make our soul connection strong again, so that my soul could reach yours. However.. The pain I caused you was far from my intention. I am deeply regretful that it came down to.. That awful encounter.

“To answer your question though, Virgil, I am here because I created ‘here’. A realm made to form this illusion of being home, sweet home, just on the corner of the little street you had come to live on for the past year. It is all my doing. Where you stand is simply an illusion only you and I can access, a manipulation of your dreams and memories. The only place where the real me can talk to you mostly unhindered.” The guardian gestured to his surroundings.

“It takes only one person to flip your life on it’s head, a matter of hours to make the decision of a lifetime, and a matter of days to have completely changed your life’s direction,” He turned to Virgil, and looked him straight in the eyes, feeling distant and lost.

“And only a matter of years to succumb to the depression of the lonely consequences..”

Virgil blinked at that. The sad, longing tone had him thrown for a loop; it almost felt like the Guardian wasn't even quite talking to Virgil. “I-What..? I.. I don’t understand.”

The Guardian shook his head, snapping out of it and refocusing himself. "Nevermind that. It is time I talked to you for real, if you will have me?" The Guardian held out a hand politely, though there was no real expectation for Virgil to take it.

After a pause, Virgil gave a slight nod, still suspicious of the other's intent. The Guardian returned the nod, and his hand fell to his side.

“I am limited to the time that you rest and for now I will not be able to explain myself thoroughly, so, I ask you to understand that I do not expect you to trust me when I am done. I honestly do not expect you to ever trust me. With the mistakes I have made, I firmly believe I would not deserve it.”

Virgil blinked in surprise, not having expected his captor to admit to his faults straight off the bat.

“Okay.. Well, we’re here, might as well hear your side of the story. So.. Shoot.” Virgil said lightly, distrust and suspicion still evident in his tone and stance.

“I would assume at this point you are well aware of how the story you have been told paints me as the villain, a mastermind seeking power, immortality, and revenge? At least, that is what I am led to believe is still the story, it has been many years since I have heard the tale first hand… And... Well. Would that not be so lovely?” Virgil made a face, eyes narrowing in confusion.

“I am serious. Life would be so much easier if it was all black and white, true or false, good and bad, would it not? If those who meant well knew everything and those malicious few could not corrupt anything?” The Guardian frowned a bit, frustrated with his words that couldn’t seem to cooperate with him.

“Would it not be lovely if I could talk to you without fighting to keep from turning every honest thought into a question or theoretical statement just to let it be said? That my words could hold a meaning not forcibly disguised in the forms of fables and riddles?” The Guardian looked down lamely, his words tapering off in agitation. For a moment, Virgil waited as the Guardian was silent, contemplative. Then, the next moment the Guardian’s face scrunched up in sadness and his words were soft as he placed a hand over his golden wrist markings.

“My story is complicated, and twisted with shades of grey. One could say what I did was an attempt to keep you safe, another could say that what I did was outlandish and impulsive, and stupid. But no one will be able to tell you that what I did went according to the plan I had... at first. No one will tell you that my intention was to save you, to keep your fate safe. No one will tell you that my plan was ruined. Because there is no longer anyone who remembers what happened that night except for me,”

The Guardian’s eyes flicked up to meet the ravenette’s, a hurt look passing over his face as he continued. His steady voice now just barely trembled with uncertainty as he continued.

“No one but me and the soul who wants so desperately for everyone to forget. The soul who ripped my own in two to bury the secret, and ruin you and I both.”

“My final warning is this: Beware of the man who carries the world on his shoulders unflinchingly, he will be watching you closely. You have immunity to his power thanks to our connection, you might use this knowledge well to find the truth that lies in plain sight. However, your fate lies in the decisions you chose to make with this knowledge, I can only warn you of what might come.” The Guardian nodded solemnly, choosing to finish his cryptic warning there.

Virgil stood there, reeling with the information. Sure, he definitely wasn’t completely convinced he could trust this cryptic stranger, Guardian? Foe? Friend? Virgil wasn’t really sure what to call him anymore. But damn, his life was already so fucking crazy, this was all just fucking crazy! He could just be dreaming for all he knew.

But… Deep inside, he was hoping he wasn’t.

This was, well. This wasn’t what he’d been expecting to hear when facing the man whose, er, body? Had originally tried to strangle him? Now he’d heard his sob story and, well, Virgil wasn’t that easy to fool, but he’d also been told that it wasn’t expected that he’d trust the guy even in the end and he didn’t really want to.

He’d been on the path to death for so long, and then just two days ago everything had changed. So much was happening, it was frankly exhausting. What the fuck was he, some book protagonist? Couldn’t he get a little time to think about all this before he went crazy?

Still, something under all his incredulity begged to hear the guardian out. He vaguely wondered how Stockholm Syndrome worked before he gave in a little. What difference did a little more crazy make in his life at this point?

“Fine, I’ll heed your warning, or whatever the fuck. But only if you can tell me what you mean when you said that this guy ripped your, uh, soul? In two.” Virgil huffed, partially relaxing. It was odd how comforting he found it to be, floating in this weird feeling imaginary world, where he could interact with objects that weren’t real. It felt like he was really standing in his home, and yet it was just built from memory.

The guardian’s solemn expression formed into a grim smile, eyes distant once more before nodding. “I will do the best that my words will allow.” Virgil nodded, and waited for the now very familiar stranger to gather his words and take a breath. Then he began, his markings lightly flashing gold.

“You find yourself whole one day, as you have always been. To be whole of body, whole of mind, both human and guardian in nature. To have conscious thought and control over your whole physical being and soul..

“You find that yourself and others of the winged variety are capable of separating your soul from your being, though only the most Elite can do it well. You find out the family you made would soon be in danger. You then find yourself lost and alone when you once had a home to call your own.

“You find yourself knowing a truth, a perilous truth. Your home is in shambles now that you are gone, yet they do not know it. This truth is at fault, but the blame is not fully your own in a world built on lies.

“The source of truth tucks itself into blankets of grey, drawing itself further from discovery with each passing day. Now only you know the truth. The source of the truth finds you, it seeks to hide you too.

“You find yourself split one day, as you have never been before. Forced apart from the body, trapped within the mind. Guardian in nature, to have conscious thought and your dying soul trapped within, a false mind piloting the puppeteered confines of a broken body with a blind goal.”

“You find you cannot control what you used to, you are a prisoner to a body that is no longer your own, mostly unconscious to the world around it. Crazed by the false emotions that fuel it.”

“The you that used to be is no longer, and has not been for over a hundred years. The world that knew you knows not of what you’ve become. Knows not of the shackles that bind you.

“The you that used to be is no longer, and will never be again.” The Guardian finished, hesitant yellow eyes meeting Virgil’s carefully. Phantom goosebumps trail down Virgil's arms as the final sentence strikes a cord in him.

Virgil found he really wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that, the rawness in the other’s tone spoke volumes of the sore spot they’d reached.

“Your body rests, but your mind also needs time to process today. I shall see you when you next rest, though only if you wish to seek me. Rest well knowing that you will not be scooped from your safety once more, as I hope I’m never to do so again. And...” The guardian paused, considering their next words very carefully.

“I know it is selfish to ask... but, I hope and wish that Thomas is alright, after all this time... Do take care of him, would you?”

Virgil paused and stared, finding only concern and longing in the guardian’s expression. And, well, fuck. What a way to pull at a guy’s heartstrings.

“Er, yes. Yeah. I’ll try my best.” Virgil gave his signature mock salute, the Guardian tipping his hat in return.

“Trying is all I could ever ask of you, Virgil. Rest well, you will need it.” And with that final sentence, the world around Virgil gently grew dark, and he sunk into the comforting arms of sleep.

Despite it all, Virgil still found his mind vaguely conscious. Sluggish at best, but awake nonetheless.

He figured it was likely some lingering effect from the Guardian’s dream realm, but didn’t dwell on it. His life had way too much else going on to be debating the side effects gained from Guardian powers.

First, he’d been pretty damn convinced two days ago that he was going to be a goner by the end of the month. Completely resigned to die believing that his very existence was scorned by the world he’d been unwillingly born into.

Then Patton had stumbled onto his shitty apartment’s roof, found him in all of his resigned and depressed glory, and changed his life forever.

They’d mostly skipped the whole ‘Human nature is a series of life, death, and rebirth’ spiel that guardians were known to give in these situations because... Well, It wasn’t like they’d really had time to address it before the truth about his soul had come out. That he wasn’t exactly human to begin with.

Virgil didn’t think that Guardians had ever had a situation like his before. There wasn’t a protocol for comforting a kidnapped guardian soul. It’d never been a possibility before!

So it wasn’t surprising then, that Virgil didn’t have any better of a time processing it.

His whole life, all that he’d known to be true, all that he’d believed in? Everything had been uprooted and turned on its head. He’d apparently been living a life that was not supposed to be.

Perhaps for the first time in two days, Virgil realized that the thought of his death at the end of the month had not been consistently worming into his brain. It had once been something he could never seem to stop thinking about.

The death indicated by his soul timer was now perhaps the farthest thing from his mind.

Perhaps the strangest thing so far was that he wasn’t alone anymore. He’d possibly had more physical contact with other people in the short two(three?) days since this adventure started then he’d had in the past 16 years.

And wasn’t it just the cherry on top that he’d also gotten nearly choked out by the very guardian accused of kidnapping his soul in the first place? And now he was considering trusting the damn guy.

Virgil hollowly wondered why he even cared.

Why did he care about staying alive now when he’s spent his whole life believing he never would? Up until two days ago, that belief had still been true. But now? Avoiding death was the goal, Logan had stated as much.

Really, would Virgil lose anything by trusting the banished guardian? Even if the guardian was trying to trick Virgil and got him killed, what difference would it make? That’d always been the goal before. What did he, Virgil, really have to lose?

If it happened that Virgil lived past his twentieth birthday, if he became a guardian like he was supposed to be in the first place. Would he want that? Did he want that?

He wasn’t sure. Didn’t know if he ever had been.

His life had been built on resignation to the inevitable. Nothing seemed to motivate him towards liking or hating that possibility. He was just that.

Indifferent.

And wasn’t that just the greatest revelation of the night? Finding out that you’re indifferent to living or dying.

Once this was all over, if Virgil lived that long, he would make a note to see a therapist. He knew very well that this kind of mindset was unhealthy to keep. It just couldn’t be helped that the nineteen years he’d lived with this particular affliction couldn’t be fixed by a few extra hugs and comforting words.

Even if he didn’t like the fact that death sounded like the more peaceful option.

His thoughts paused, mentally sighing at the downward spiral he’d caught himself in. It was tiring, and going nowhere.

‘For now,’ he decided, ‘I’m just going to see how this plays out. The Guardian said that none of the others remember the truth, or whatever. So, It’s a ‘he said-they said’ situation right now...’

‘I’ll have to keep an eye out for the guy that he warned me about, then. Who knows if he's as dangerous as The Guardian made him out to be. It’s hard to tell with the weird way he has to talk..’

Virgil paused again, a realization striking him. If he could have groaned, he would have. Not once had he been given or even remembered to ask for the name of said Guardian. What was he supposed to call the rogue Guardian now? He couldn’t just keep calling him The Guardian!

Amidst the disbelief of such a slip up, a foreign yet familiar feeling prodded questioningly at his conscious mind. Adding confusion into the mix of emotions, he returned the feeling with a questioning thought of his own.

He briefly heard the Guardian’s whispy voice once more, now acting with permission.

“You may call me Janus”

Then all at once, Virgil woke up.

.

.

.

Chapter Nine

[sheyshocked]

Guarding his sleep

Summary: Markus has a nightmare and Simon is there to comfort him.

Ship: Markus/Simon (Detroit: Become Human)

Warnings: None

Tags: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Nightmares, saying i love you for the first time, Junkyard (Detroit: Become Human), Markus (Detroit: Become Human) has PTSD, Markus (Detroit: Become Human) Needs a Hug

Wordcount: 1,272

A/N: People can pry the “emotionally vulnerable Markus and Simon being his port in the storm” headcanon out of my cold, dead hands XD Anyway, thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed it!

You can also read it on ao3!

Markus had so many human-like interesting little quirks. From the way his eyebrows knit together when he was confused, or the gentle lilt whenever he talked to Carl, Simon found them all charming.

...With only one exception.

He was woken up by a fist being shoved into his face and loud grunting noises near his ear.

Oh dear. Here we go again, he thought as he pried the hand away from his face and sat up, looking at Markus’ twitching, restless form under the blanket.

He was having a bad dream.

It sometimes happened to all of them. Since they became deviants, their preconstruction software started acting up even in their “sleep”, supplying them with scenarios from their everyday lives or imagination. But rarely it would result in a physical response. They just laid there completely motionless, dreaming their little dreams. Not Markus, though.

Markus squirmed, hogged blankets, sometimes even smiled or chuckled from his sleep. And other times, he screamed, his hands flailing around in an attempt to fight off an imaginary foe. It was awful that it was happening so often, with the revolution and their troubled pasts, and it pained Simon so much to see the man he loved struggling. Like now.

Today, it was especially bad. Markus was whimpering from his sleep, muttering quiet words Simon couldn’t make sense of, hands and legs all over the place. It had to stop. Now.

“Markus? Markus, wake up!” When he didn’t react to words, Simon gently shook his shoulder, hoping it would break the scenario Markus was caught in. And he was right.

Finally, Markus’ beautiful eyes, filled to the brim with tears, snapped open, looking at him like he saw him for the first time as his chest rose up and down in rapid succession, still halfway in the nightmare world.

Then his vision seemed to clear up a little, and he threw his arms in the air, surprising Simon with a firm, nearly bone-crushing hug. He caught up with him quickly though, wrapping arms around his chest with the same strength, one hand at the back of his head resting on his peck as he cooed: “It’s okay. You are okay. It was just a bad dream.”

“Yeah. I’m okay. I’m okay,” Markus breathed out, reassuring himself, before drawing in the scent of Simon’s soap and cologne that still lingered on his synthetic skin. That always used to calm him down.

It took a little longer than usual, but eventually, he relaxed, breath slowing down until it became almost unnoticeable and he could sit back and raise his head from Simon’s chest (what a pity).

“Do you want to talk about it?” Simon asked with all the gentleness he had put into his tone.

Markus shook his head. “No. Not right now.”

“Alright. But if you ever need to talk about it, I’m here for you. Always.”

A watery chuckle left Markus’s throat. “Thank you, Si. I appreciate it.”

He started wiping away the silvery streaks that were running down his freckled cheeks like shooting stars leaving traces on the night sky with the back of his hand. He looked as if he was ashamed of them, and Simon’s eyebrows knit together in a frown. No, no this wouldn’t do.

He took his shaky hands in his own, kissing each palm before moving closer, kissing away the slowly drying tears. It was cute, watching how Markus’s skin darkened even more with color and how he tried to bat his lips away. Not too vehemently, though. “Stop it, you. There’s no need for that.”

“For what?” Simon retorted in a sing-song voice, teasing him. “Showing you my love and care? Oh, sir, I think there’s always plenty of need for that!”

Markus’ lips curved up in a blink and you miss it smile (Mission accomplished, Simon thought, puffing out his chest like some damned pigeon) before his head once again settled on Simon’s sternum and they both drifted off into a comfortable silence, just taking in each other’s closeness.

If they stayed like that for the rest of the night, Simon would be content. There was no need for words. But after a while, Markus opened his eye, the one that wasn’t pressed into Simon’s chest, and looked up at him, as if he wanted to say something and wasn’t sure that he could. And then, finally, he made his mind and broke the silence they dwelled in.

“Simon? Have I ever told you what led me to Jericho?”

“No, I don’t think you did. Is that what you’ve been dreaming about? Your past?”

“Yeah.” His voice broke on the words, but he forced himself to continue, despite Simon protesting that he didn’t need to if he wasn’t ready. “You see, Carl has a biological son. Leo. He used to be always high on red ice and asking his father for money so he could nurse his drug addiction.”

Ah. Red ice. It was always the red ice.

“He’s much better now, but back then, he came asking for money again. Carl refused. That’s why Leo broke in when we were away, meaning to steal some paintings so he could sell them for some drug money. We caught him, I called the police and he started pushing me around. Carl told me not to defend myself. But I couldn’t. It wasn’t fair. So I... pushed him back, and he fell, bashing his head open.” He heaved a sigh. “That’s when the police came in.”

Simon drew in a sharp intake of breath. He didn’t like where this was going.

“They didn’t even ask what was going on. They saw an android standing over a badly injured human and they knew exactly what to do. They shot me, tore me to pieces, and then threw me out at a junkyard like trash, thinking I was done for.”

Oh no. Simon expected it to be bad, but this...?

“Oh my god, Markus. I’m so, so sorry.”

His answer was a small head shake. “Don’t be. I... when I woke up, I was missing many vital parts. My legs...” He traced the scars he had on his lower legs with his finger as if he was contemplating everything that happened. “My eye, heart regulator, all of it. I had to do terrible things to survive, to the androids who were just like me, thrown out, left to rot.”

Simon covered his hand with his own, looking him straight in the eye. “All of us had to do bad things to survive at some point. Don’t beat yourself up because of it. Without you, there would be many androids thrown out at the junkyard each year. You gave us hope. You gave me hope.”

Seems like it didn’t take much for the most charismatic leader of the uprising to become speechless. He was looking at him with so much emotion in his face, then he nuzzled back into the nape of his neck, murmuring: “Oh Si. I love you so much.”

Simon’s poor, feeble heart stopped beating for a second, before nearly bursting into a somersault. This was the first time Markus said those words out loud, and it felt marvelous and terrifying at the same time. What should he do? Should he say it back?

But in the end, he did what he always did - he listened to his heart and let it take a lead.

“I love you too, honey. I love you too,” he whispered into the short, coarse hair at the top of Markus’ head as he hugged him ever closer to his chest. It felt so damn right.

[bowieandqueen11]

Remember When / Hargreeves Imagine

Request: Love ur writing btw!! I have a Great idea for a Diego fic! Can u do his siblings somehow finding tapes/videos from the mental asylum Diego was in and seeing how badly he was tortured and abused. Then he has a panic attack or something at the end and they comfort him. 

I-ugh anon omg - my heart <3

Warning, some strong language, and also some descriptions of abuse, so please don’t read if it will make you uncomfortable!

Comments and reblogs are so so so appreciated, as this took me honestly way to long XD! Thank you!!

‘Way to go. Real Team Zero back there.’

‘Diego, we’ve already been through this. Dad’s a stubborn prick, as he has been, all our sad lives, yada yada, we’re sorry, okay? We should have known he’d still be the same condescending asshole’, Klaus replies, waving his hands in the air as he climbs the stairs back up to Elliot’s apartment. Rubbing his left eye with his hello tattoo, he uses his right to try and fumble a blunt out of his pocket, clenching it between his teeth. As he feels Luther’s footsteps pound up the rest of the way and jog past him to the landing, he can’t quite seem to light it - his fingers are still trembling too hard from the pain of Ben stealing his body in the way he did.

Running up the stairs after him, Diego leaves behind the rest of his shell shocked siblings. Instead he focuses on tucking in the corners of his shirt back into his pants, trying to do anything to stop himself focusing on Reginald and the tears that still threaten to prick at the corner of his eyes. He doesn’t even notice when he walks head first into Klaus, until he has put a hand out and gripped onto his shoulder to stop them both from tumbling back down the stairs like bowling balls and straight into Allison.

‘You, brother, are an idiot. And a fat lot of help’, he smirks, sadly, gently slapping Klaus on his cheek.

‘Rude’, Klaus shrugs, winding his way towards the kitchen and kicking off his shoes in the process, looking for some Vodka to steal.

Allison hops quickly out of the way of the incoming shoes, used to his antics by now, and instead comes to settle next to where Vanya has plodded herself down on the sofa. Fiddling with her oversized jumper, a far away look on her face, Allison places a comforting hand on her bicep and gives her a sorrowful smile.

‘What do we do now?’, Vanya murmurs out as Luther squirms uncomfortably on one of Elliott’s wooden chairs. He ignores the beeping of the machines behind his head, instead swallowing thickly.

‘We, uh... wait for Five, I guess.’

‘No no no, right now, the most important thing we can do to try and change the world, is save JFK.’

‘Ughh we’ve been through this a million times! That’s not how it works Diego!’, Klaus calls from the kitchen, only a cloud of smoke trailing out from behind the wall and filling the room with both a stagnant smell of weed, and a light fog that seems to dampen the small amount of sunlight filtering through the askew blinds, which Elliott had been taking photos through earlier this morning.

‘Look, I get that you’re on some big crusade to prove something to dad, but this is not helpful right now.’

‘We all need to stick together and stop this thing’, Allison chimes in, desperation in her voice.

Luther’s interrupted from his continuing thoughts by a small squeak out of Vanya, following her eyes from where they are trained to a spot on the rug.

‘Oh my god... is that blood? Is someone bleeding?’

‘Holy shit.’

He gets up then, following the trail, beckoning his sisters to stay behind him with his hands until he reaches the dentistry chair at the edge of the landing, grimacing slightly as he turns to swivel it towards him with a squeak. He feels Klaus bump into one side of him, and Diego hit onto his other elbow, a rusty kitchen knife raised and ready, and a look of almost determination on his face, as if he had just been waiting for something awful to happen, just another chain of bad events so he knew his life was back onto its normal tracks.

‘Oh noooo’, Klaus groans, cupping his hands over his mouth as Elliott’s body turns to face them, a knife planted firmly in his eye.

Turning away from the tortured body of his friend, Diego swallows thickly, dropping his knife to the floor and placing an arm over his stomach. None of his siblings really notice, all of them looking over the dead body aghast, wondering, pained that they were the ones who caused something like this. None of them noticed the shake in his hand as he squeezed his eyes shut, forcing the bile back down his throat again. 

Klaus, however, did notice something. However, sadly for Diego, it was not the right thing - not the signs of shock, anxiety, or guilt that flashed over his brother’s face - the signs of PTSD he would have been the most adapt at noticing in the room. No, instead Klaus looked past poor Elliot’s head, towards a blinking static screen that kept flashing blue and black on a nearby desk, left abandoned underneath the shutter shots of the rest of them by Five.

‘Hello there, what might you be?’

Leaving the rest of them, he fumbled with the buttons on the old TV, trying to shake it out of his head how eerily familiar this seemed to dear old dad’s surveillance system. Hitting any button he can find in vain, he throws his blunt out of his mouth and flicks it across the room, slamming the control panel with the fist of his palm, until his pointer finger somehow managed to falter and hit play on the tape left inside.

Never before had Klaus noticed how much time is like water, that it can drip by in front of his eyes so slowly, or even freeze with each new frame. The past few minutes had passed by as if he had watched a thousand frames per second, too slow to be normal, so unusual. He turns to try and point to his siblings, but his jaw is still so slack and he finds he can’t move his fingers properly. Shock, that’s what they call it, shock, he thinks to himself, fighting to get his words out so they don’t trail out.

There is a sadness in his eyes, the glass green too glossy when he finally turns to his siblings and manages only to feebly point at the screen.

For the first time, since his mouth had been wired shut as a teenager, Klaus was at a loss of words.

This grabbed the attention of his siblings, who crowded over to join him and peer intently at the screen - all except foe Diego, who stayed hovering at the edge of the group.

The screen lights up again, showing an empty room, one without proper handles, only sheets of smooth metal as makeshift windows for staff to peer through. There’s no bed, no mattress on the cold floor, just emptiness, isolation, silence, for the man who sits in the centre of the floor in pure white. They recognise from the shaggy hair and the wild beard that it’s there brother almost immediately.

'You were in an Asylum? What for?’, Vanya asks.

‘For trying to save the President’, Diego manages to mutter, unable to look any of them in the eye. ‘For doing what needed to be done.’

He’s interrupted by himself, the small version of him on the tape muttering to himself, rocking back and forth. ‘I am not enough, I can’t do it, I’m not good enough. You’ll never be number one, never.’  

The door swings open then. In his intense silence, Diego somehow screamed with his whole body. The eyes wide with horror, the mouth rigid and open, his chalky face gaunt and immobile as the doctor approached him with the needle.  

‘Please! Not the needle!’, he begs and cries. ‘Please!’

Luther’s the first to turn round and look at his brother. The first to finally look, to finally see him, how defeated he looks, for the first time since they all landed in that alleyway.  It's the look that he gives Diego. Those pale blue eyes, probing into his soul, desperately wanting to see what's going on in there. That look, it just tore Diego apart, piece by piece, and although it wasn’t his fault, he found himself deeply unsettled, deeply angry at him, at all of them, so suddenly.

‘W-w-what? What are you looking at a-a-ss-’

An invisible hand clasps over his mouth and stops his words from escaping, an equally ghostly hypodermic of adrenaline piercing his heart, making it contort and expand until it feels just about ready to burst. His ribs heave uneasily, and Allison’s afraid he’s about to pass out, Klaus rushing forward, biting his lips. Diego only wants to run, but needs to freeze. All he can do, instead, is fall to his knees, and allow four pairs of hands to catch him before his face hits the floor.

A single tear slides down from his warm, butterscotch eyes, followed by another one, and another one, until soon, a steady stream of salty tears flowed it's way down his cheek, releasing the sadness and sorrow that has been held inside of him for all this time but still he did not make a sound. His siblings made the noise for him, warm, comforting little nothings, telling him it was going to be okay, he didn’t have to go back, they were going to do it, save the world. Save themselves.

The hand appeared from nowhere and tightened on his wrist, white knuckled, strong, until Luther had pulled him against his chest, and the others had gently fallen to their knees too and placed their arms around his back as best as they could. Klaus was half leaning over Allison’s leg, and Vanya in turn was completely squished, face first, against his chest, but somehow they made it work.

There is the hug of gentle arms that still gives you the space to breathe, like the ones Grace used to give Diego after a mission. Shutting his eyes, he realises he isn’t used to this type, the kind of hug with strong arms that tells everything that your are - body, brain and soul - that they are with you. 

They stay like that for a while, the five - well, the six of them, as Ben places his arms around his siblings as well, even if they can’t feel him. The six of them, battered, afraid, neglected, and yet, not alone. They huddle there together, embracing each other and crying and just allowing themselves to be open, to be vulnerable with each other, to realise their dad wasn’t there and they didn’t have to go through this alone anymore. 

Tears were wiped and sobbing laughs were shared, and even Five, when he blipped back into the room, saw the set of his siblings hugging on the floor and felt a pang of loneliness and love for his crazy family ring out in his heart that he joined them, if only for a second.

From then they weren’t numbers anymore. They weren’t even siblings. They were more, Diego said with a smile. They were Team Zero.

[michellespenscratchz]

“So you thought all it took was a piece of paper pilfered from the ruins of Helios to make Mr. Rhys Strongfork into the re-founder of Atlas, eh? Ha! No, my optimistic friends, the business world doesn’t work that way, not even close. Take it from old Marcus–there is always, eh, the fine print to consider, yes? "You may recall when last we saw the Company Man, he had just set foot into the famed Vault of the Traveler. The Vault, it seems, lives up to its name, for it whisked him away from Pandora and set him on a new course altogether. Meanwhile, the Pandoran Hustler’s young sister finds herself left behind in the wastes, and forced to find her own way. "It won’t be easy for them, of course. This risky venture will be fraught with new foes, uncertain allies, and a sizable helping of inner demons, just for good measure. "But I ask you this–would my dear listener have it any other way?”

(Special thanks @monday-headache​, @frankenjoly, @sinesthero and @llilli64 for proofreading, and feeding me copious amounts of BL2 lore that ended up changing one or two lines of dialog. XD)

Current Chapter | From The Beginning

[xxbyimm]

25 oc questions: 🌟🌙❄️🔥🌻💎👀 and I know who you wanna talk about 😆

Lol, you do???? I have no idea... 

Thank you so much for asking me these questions, my dear sister from another mister! <3 I really enjoyed answering these.  🔥

🌟 When your OC loses all hope, who do they turn to first? What helps make them feel better? What calms them down and reassures them? Why?

Enya Blueheart always turns to her husband Thorin first. If something or someone is letting her down, she will needs his reassurance and support. Since a large part of their love language is physical touch, they’re often found hugging, kissing (among others things.. LOL). Within his arms, she feels safe and at home. Snuggling up with him in front of the fireplace is one of her favorite things in the world.

Secondly, Enya’s tiny pet dragon Dracarys never fails to make her laugh, because of he’s too stupid to be even alive to be honest. His cuteness has saved his tiny ass more than once!

When Thorin or Dracarys aren’t available, I can see Enya seeking comfort with Dís. Because Enya is about the same age as her sister-in-law’s sons, Dís is very protective of her.

 🌙 If your OC could have one wish come true what would it be and why? Would there be consequences to this wish or would they regret it once they get what they want? What would they give in return for this wish to come true?

Hmmm… Quest Enya has one wish in mind, but that one will get granted fairly easily and she has no regrets. At all… ;D

I think Queen Enya desperately longs for some private time with her king. And with this I don’t mean quality time in their private quarters, but more like an equivalent of a holiday we humans have. She wants to go on an adventure with him, explore Middle Earth and have long, passioned make out sessions without having to worry which member of the court is playing peeping Tom. The consequence of this wish would be that the kingdom has to survive without its’ king and queen for a few weeks, but I think they’ll survive…

 ❄️ What makes your OC sad, so sad that they can’t help but cry all day? How do they cheer themself up? Does their sadness upset any of their loved ones too?

Losing Thorin. As we’ll see in the upcoming chapters of Enya’s journey, losing Thorin will devastate her. There’s no cheering up from that. At that point, En just wants to crawl into a hole and die.  

 🔥 If your OC known for having temper tantrums? If not, what gets them really angry? What makes their blood BOIL? Is there anyway to calm them down or are they unstoppable? What are they like when they’re angry? Do they take it out on their loved ones?

UM, YES! We’re talking about a bloody fire-witch here! Enya is notorious for her temper tantrums, in which she sometimes loses control over her powers (a.k.a. setting the bed on fire). She despises arrogant people, females who dare to even look at her husband (Dolvira and Elmilynn are honorable mentions) and gender inequality.

Calming this sassy lady down isn’t easy, especially when she has turned into a literal fireball. But somehow (I’m not sure how he does it), Thorin manages. He listens to what she has to say or simply distracts her from the topic that’s enraging her.

 🌼 Write a short drabble from your OCs POV meeting their LI (or if they don’t have a love interest, their best friend. If you don’t want to do a drabble, describe their first meeting instead!)

Oh yass!! If you don’t mind, I took a snippet from the remastered Enya’s Unexpected Journey series I’m currently writing!

‘Ouch!’

She landed on something hard and unrelenting. Next thing she knew, the world was literally spinning on its axis and she was lying under a gruffy, very angry man with long, dark manes and a beard. The fight was over before it even had begun and Enya found herself being pinned firmly on the ground, a sharp blade pushing against her throat. She hissed in pain as her assailant’s deep blue eyes flashed over her, scanning the level of danger from his current foe.

Even to someone as inexperienced in combat as she was, it was clear that the man was overpowering her in both strength as deadliness. Resistance was futile. Enya stopped writhing under his tight grip and the can containing her only way to defend herself, rolled onto the ground.

‘Honestly, my dear.’ Her mind huffed. ‘Are you even trying to escape or what?’

For a moment, they were taking each other in and emerald eyes burned into their pale blue counterparts. Aside from those gorgeous eyes that looked straight into the depths of her soul, the man possessed a characteristic nose and a carefully kept -though no less majestic- beard. His mouth was set in a grim line. A strand of his unruly, dark hair brushed over her face. His scent, a mix between tobacco, musk and worn leather, was both soothing and intoxicating.

Good gracious. He was hot…

 💎 Does your OC collect anything? Is there a reason? When did they start and is it beginning to turn into a little bit of a hoarding issue? What do they do with their collection?

I don’t think that other than pets, Enya doesn’t really collects anything. She loves animals and once Dracarys bonded with her there was no going back. Thorin often jokes that Erebor is a kingdom, not a farmhouse… xD

 👀 Describe your OC through the eyes of another person! (bonus + specify who)

This is a snippet from a chapter I have yet to write!! Lady Dís meets Enya!

A slender female clad in black appeared behind her trusted informant Daniel. Dís, who wasn’t used to Dan bringing companions with him- especially not ones covering their face with a hood-, arched a brow. Dan caught her gaze and grunted something incomprehensible, making the princess of Durin smile. The poor ranger just couldn’t help himself, could he? He always had to play the hero.

‘I don’t remember asking you to bring me anything other than information, Dan.’ She spoke. ‘Who’s this?’

The female lowered her hood and a wave of chestnut brown locks fell over her shoulders. She had pretty, delicate features and though the lack of any apparent facial hair (not even a slight sideburn) was a bit disappointing, the fiery, determined gaze in her pale blue eyes made up for it. But there was something else. A small flicker in her gaze betrayed there was much recent hurt and heartbreak lurking beyond the surface. Whoever the girl was, she had been through much.

‘I’m sorry for intruding your home like this, lady Dís.’ The girl said, her light and melodic voice sounding polite but yet quite certain. ‘I didn’t mean to offend you.’

‘None taken.’ Dís replied. ‘What’s your name?’

‘My name is Enya Blueheart and I’m the last royal descendant of the firebeard clan.’

Ah, a dwarrowdam. Of royal ancestry no less! Dís neared her new acquaintance with curiosity. ‘You’re most welcome here, miss Blueheart.’ She said. ‘May I offer you something to drink and a place to rest? You look rather tired.’

‘Yes, thank you.’ Enya murmured as she let the princess of Durin guide her towards the long dining table near the fire.

‘My my.’ Dís muttered as her fingers accidently dug into Enya’s ribcage. ‘You are too thin for my liking. If I may inquire… Who broke you?’

@criminaly-supernatural, do you approve of this Dís and Enya scene? ;D

[midnight-in-town]

Now that 360 is out what is Guts current action now that SK has put a dampener to his plan. Stay in Elfhelm or deliver justice to Griffith?

Hello Anon, sorry for the delay! Strictly speaking though? Neither. ;)

First of all, the whole point of travelling to Skellig Island was initially to bring Casca to safety...

...then came the hope that she could be brought back...

...but the point never was to hide there forever. As Skully said, it’s a journey.

However, right now this isn’t about “delivering justice” to Griffith/Femto either. Remember: Guts let go of revenge for Casca’s sake and in order to bring her to Skellig Island, because he bet everything on the hope that Skully offered him about Casca getting her sanity back.  

Also remember his reaction when Ged and the other magi asked about Griffith when they arrived?

Guts’ been pretty hung up on Casca’s recovery for a while now, so just deciding to go back to hunting Griffith/Femto without the proper trigger would be kinda anti-climatic, haha. 

This is the journey Skully is talking about though...

and maybe he does think that Guts should get back to hunting Apostles and God Hand (together with him?), but if so, that’d be Skully reading Guts wrong.

Yes, Skully and Guts used to have similar goals but, again, Guts changed paths because Casca was more important to him than being the Black Swordsman. It was clearly not an easy decision every day, but that’s who he is now: 

So we will see what Skully wants to tell Guts, but if he were to imply that Guts should leave his people behind and go on fighting for all eternity as a foe of all inhumans (like him), then I say this: Guts will not bother with saving the world from Femto, just because he believes he has nothing left that matters. 

When he goes again after Griffith and his followers, it will be because...

...either Casca will want to go, or because he too will be pretty angered by the fate of his son as Femto’s vessel. 

...Maybe Skellig’s possible annihilation will also factor into his decision xD but anyway, Guts’ conflict with Femto steams from Griffith destroying all that Guts ever held dear, so he needs the same motivation to go again after him, in my opinion.

My take on it, but I hope it answers your question. Have a nice weekend Anon! :)

Hello Anon! Oh yeah, I’m pretty sure something terrible will befall Skellig Island and its inhabitants indeed. 

I mean Casca is finally back, Skully arrived, Guts is as lost as ever and, as you said, the younger magic-wielders don’t appear to be all all that tough. But mostly, personally I worry about Skellig Island because...

As I explained here, the Moonlight Boy (Femto’s vessel) is coming and it’s probably going to be both a good and bad omen. 

It’s a good thing because he will surely be able to help Casca with facing Guts, like he did with Guts when he was losing himself using the Berserker’s armor. However, it’s also a bad omen because war will most likely eventually follow his arrival (see the post I linked to). 

Anyway, yeah, it’s probably better to seriously worry about Skellig and its inhabitants... :/ I also worry about Danan by the way, because I doubt she’s meant to survive if her whole “kingdom” were to be annihilated. ://

Ahh, we shall see, but it’s rather scary indeed. 

Thanks for passing by and have a nice weekend Anon!

[therainroguefanfiction]

⁂ Let Me In (Masaharu Niou)

Niou #2. MC in interested in him, but is getting very frustrated at his seeming inability to reveal anything about himself. If this is to be more than a crush, please let me in.

@its-been-quite-a-while​

Genre: Fluff, Slice of Life, Angst, School, Comedy ☁

Word Count: 2,711 ☁

Pairing: Reader x Niou ☁

World: Prince of Tennis ☁

Author’s Note: This took longer than it should have because I’ve only wanted to play Skyrim lately xD I’m so sorry, but I hope you enjoy!

━━━━━━༻🌧️༺━━━━━━

You sat at the back of the classroom, watching Niou, who sat a few seats in front of you and off to the right. The teacher stood at the front of the room, reading from a thick red book as he wrote important information on the board as he read it. You didn’t catch a word of it, though, because of all the different scenarios currently playing through your mind. Niou wasn’t paying attention, either, because he was busy working on a new prank to play on Kirihara.

Now, you’ve had a major crush on Rikkai’s trickster since your second year when he pranked the entire class by filling balloons with 90% helium and 10% pudding, then rigging it them to pop as soon as the teacher stood behind her desk. How he managed this and how no one noticed was completely beyond you. It just made the prank seem all the more magical and impressive. Granted, he was in detention for most of the year after that but, in his opinion, it was totally worth and he would definitely do it again.

After suffering from this crush for so long, you decided that you wanted it to be more than just a crush. You wanted your feelings to grow and blossom into something beautiful. You wanted to fall in love with him. You wanted to date him. But there’s a problem with this desire of yours.

Niou Masaharu is an enigma.

He just doesn’t talk about himself at all, lest his enemies find dirt to use against him, and in doing so, he keeps people at arm’s length – both friend and foe. You had approached the regulars before with some false story about writing a paper on the trickster, but they had nothing to offer aside from his tennis stats. They didn’t even know where he lived! You suspected the Yanagi, the man with information on everyone, had to know something but he denied this every time you asked.

You were determined to break through his barriers no matter what it took – your feelings were on the line, after all!

So, when school finally came to a close, you jumped up from your seat and rushed over to his desk, catching him just as he stood up. You smiled brightly, clasping your hands behind you. “Niou-kun, what do you say to seeing a movie after practice today? We can each pick our favorite one!”

“Puri~” he smirked, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “We have a tournament coming up, so we’ll be practicing well into the night, Y/N-chan.”

“Oh right,” you gently knocked the side of your skull with your fist. “Silly me, I forgot. Some other time then?”

“Puri~”

You watched as he left the room, a groan passing your lips. ‘This isn’t going to be easy at all… but I won’t give up!’

━━━━━━༻🌧️༺━━━━━━

“Niou-kun!” You called out as you entered the school, dragging your friend, Suki, with you. She didn’t look happy, mostly because you had woken her up earlier than usual so she could assist you with your fishing adventure. “Good morning,”

His lips tugged up as he glanced at the two of you. “Mornin’~”

“Would you mind settling a debate for us?” You wondered, motioning between yourself and Suki, who stifled a yawn in response. “See, Suki loves the heat, so she wants to spend summer break at the beach sunbathing. I love the cold, so I’d much rather go to the ice rink. We started fighting over it, so now we’re asking all of our friends which they prefer – the heat or the cold.”

“Puri~”

You sweatdropped, squeezing Suki’s arm tighter. “So, um, which do you prefer?”

Niou pulled a serious face as he rested one hand on your shoulder and the other on Suki’s. “Friends shouldn’t fight over trivial matters. Just go ice skating at the beach~”

You were left speechless, eye twitching as you watched the silver-haired male continue on his way to the school building, getting lost in the throng of students. Suki snorted loudly, clutching her stomach.

“Oh my god, that guy’s great!”

You pouted at her.

━━━━━━༻🌧️༺━━━━━━

For your social studies class, the teacher prompted all of you to reach out to a friend or family member and learn about their hobbies – why they enjoy it, how they came to try it, etc. – and then write a report on your findings. Naturally, you immediately chose Niou as the subject of your report, but the challenge was still to come. You knew if you asked, he would retort with information about tennis. Still, you have to at least try.

Once class ended, you grabbed a small notebook and pencil from your bag and approached the trickster, sliding into the desk in front of him. “Ne, Niou-kun, can I do my report on you?”

“Sure,” he grinned, leaning forward on the desk. His teal eyes sparkled with mischief.

You smiled. “Well, I know how much you love tennis, but what about your other hobbies? What do you enjoy?”

“Tennis,” Niou’s lips twitched upward when you frowned. “And pranks~”

“I don’t think pranks count as a hobby… and I know you enjoy tennis, but surely you must enjoy something else? Darts, maybe? Solitaire? Reading? Skateboarding? Drawing?” You were feeling a bit desperate. “You gotta give me something or I’ll fail the assignment!”

He hummed thoughtfully, tapping his chin. “Okay,”

You brightened up, thinking he was going to finally tell you something about himself.

“I enjoy -” he paused for dramatic effect, making you lean forward. He chuckled, poking your forehead. “One of the things you listed, but you have to figure out which one, puri~”

“Eh~?” You leaned back, watching him stand up and gather his things. “Wait a minute -!”

“Good luck, Y/N-chan~”

You groaned, leaning your head back onto the desk behind you. Yagyuu’s face appeared above you and he held his glasses up in the center. “Is there a problem, Y/N-san?”

“Yagyuu-kun,” you pouted, sitting up. “You’re his partner, you must know something about him?”

He hummed in thought. “He always gets an A in math class,”

“That’s not helpful at all!”

“Well, I did try. Good luck, Y/N-san.” And he walked away.

━━━━━━༻🌧️༺━━━━━━

You stifled a yawn as you stepped into the school building on Monday morning, stopping at the shoe locker to switch to your indoor shoes. When you pulled the door open, a small slip of paper slid out, falling to the floor. Blinking, you glanced back and forth, but no one was paying you any mind. You bent down and picked it up, carefully unfolding it. The words were clean and neat and, for a moment, you thought they might be typed out because of how… perfect they were. It read as follows:

‘Dear Y/N-san,

I’ve recently come into some information that may be of interest to you. After school comes to a close, I encourage you to follow Niou as he makes a most curious stop before heading to practice.

All the best,

A friend.’

Your eyes narrowed suspiciously at the note. Was this a prank? You hadn’t exactly been subtle in your attempts to try and learn more information about Niou, so anyone could have written this in an attempt to mess with you. Still… you hadn’t made any progress on your own, so what could it hurt to check into this lead? You decided to give it a shot.

The day moved by at an agonizingly slow pace, but that was probably because you kept glancing at the clock every two seconds, just waiting for the final bell to toll. You already had your bag packed up as the final thirty minutes of class approached, something the teacher did not appreciate it, but he didn’t waste his breath on scolding you. It was the end of the day, and it had been a long weekend for him.

The bell rang out throughout the school and your grip on the bag tightened as you watched Niou pack up his books and sling his tennis bag over his shoulder, lazily leaving the room. You jumped up, nearly tripping when your foot caught on the leg of the desk, but you managed to right yourself and dived between two girls who were leaving the class far too slow for your taste. They cried out, giving you dirty looks, but you ignored them, bursting out into the hall and snapping your head around.

First to the right, and then to the left. You caught a glimpse of silver turning the corner at the end of the hall and you took off, dodging students to the best of your ability. It continued like this for several moments as you tried to chase down the trickster through the school. Finally, you burst through the double doors to the east. You scanned the area behind the school, but the only people out there was the security guard at the gate, and Mr. Iazaki, a second-year math teacher.

There was no sign of Niou Masaharu anywhere.

You cursed, kicking the ground as you headed toward the security officer, an older man that always had a kind smile to offer. “Hello, Shimata-san.”

“Good afternoon, Y/N-chan!” He smiled brightly. “Is something wrong? You seem down.”

“I am,” you answered honestly, rubbing the back of your neck. “Life can be hard sometimes.”

He nodded in understanding. “It can. But you are young and strong. Whatever ails you, you can overcome.”

You offered him a sad smile. “Thank you. May I exit through this gate? I really don’t want to be bothered by the other students right now.”

Shimata hummed, glancing toward the school building. “Well, you know students aren’t permitted to use this gate. It’s for staff only.”

“Yes, sir.”

“But, I suppose one time won’t hurt. You’re a good student, never get into any trouble.” He leaned toward me, narrowing his eyes suspiciously as he reached out, pinching both of your cheeks before pulling.

“Ouch!” you pouted, pulling away and covering both of your cheeks so he wouldn’t do it again. “What was that for?”

He chuckled, offering a sheepish smile. “Sorry, had to make sure you weren’t that darned Niou trying to sneak past me again.”

“Niou-kun?”

He nodded. “I’m not sure why, but he’s been trying to sneak past me for months.”

A thought suddenly popped into your head and you leaned forward, grabbing the man’s arms. “Which way did Iazaki-sensei go? I need to… talk to him about a grade he gave me!”

“But… you’re a third-year…”

“Yes… the grade has been bothering me for a while, sir!”

Shimata sweatdropped, lifting his hand to point to the left. “He went that… way…”

But you were already gone, taking off through the gate and making a hard left, following the stone wall that separated the teacher’s parking lot from the school grounds.

Mrow~

You slid to a stop as you reached the end of the wall. Was that a cat? Stealthily, you approached the corner, peering around. What you saw made your eyes widen and your heart soar with warmth.

Niou was squatting down, holding his hand out to a small orange kitten that was eating something out of his hand. The index finger on his free hand was gently rubbing the cat’s head between its ears and the smile on his lips was genuine and soft. You had never seen Niou smile like that before and your heart skipped more beats than should be possible.

It was something small that you had learned about him, but it filled you with renewed vigor. You wanted to know more about this man.

━━━━━━༻🌧️༺━━━━━━

The next day, you caught up to Niou just as he entered the school grounds, his hand ruffling his silver hair. Seeing him filled you with warmth like it never had before and you just wanted to talk to him, to hear his voice, and be close to him.

“Niou-kun, good morning.” You smiled, falling in step beside him.

He glanced at you and smirked lazily. “Morning, Y/N. Where’s Suki?”

“She has a doctor’s appointment in an hour, so she’s missing school today. Why? Did you need her?”

“Nope~ Just expected to solve another argument between you.”

You huffed, lightly smacking his upper arm. “You make it sound like we’re constantly arguing,”

“Puri~”

Silence fell over the two of you as you followed the ocean of students up to the school building. All this time, you had been dancing around trying to get answers from him by indirectly asking questions or proposing scenarios that might elicit the response you were looking for, but you had yet to just… ask him.

“Niou-kun?”

“Hmm?”

“What is your favorite color?”

He raised a brow, surprised that you had directly asked him. His lips curved up, eyes shining under the fluorescent lights of the hallway. “It’s part of the rainbow,”

You scowled at him. “Why can’t you just give me a straight answer? What are you so afraid of?”

His eyes flashed with emotion, but it was gone as quickly as it came. His smirk dropped, face wiped free of any emotion. “You think I’m afraid just because I won’t tell you my favorite color?” he scoffed.

Okay, that hurt a bit. You shook your head and folded your arms over your chest. “It’s not just the favorite color. You won’t tell me anything about yourself, not even your favorite things or what you spend your time doing. Do you not trust me?”

“Why do you care?” he frowned. “Why are you so obsessed with finding out these things about me?”

‘Obsessed?’, you frowned. ‘Am I obsessed? Oh god, he must think I’m just some crazy fan trying to stalk him…’ The thought broke your heart and you felt the urge to cry rising within you. You took a few, deep breaths to keep yourself calm. “I’ll be honest with you. I’ve had a crush on you since that prank you pulled at the start of our second year. Without realizing it, my feelings have grown, but… how can I bring myself to continue liking someone that can’t even share their favorite color with me? I wanted this to be so much more than just a crush, Niou, but you won’t let me in. I guess I’m just wasting my time.”

You stepped around him, continuing down the hall which had emptied as students filed into their classrooms. Honestly, you just wanted to run to the bathroom and cry, but maybe the teacher’s lecture would distract you. Maybe it would even put you to sleep again and you could forget that this ever happened.

You hadn’t made it far before arms wrapped around your body, pinning your arms to your side and preventing you from continuing forward. Niou rested his chin on your left shoulder and hummed.

“Did you just confess to me, Y/N-chan~?”

‘Crap, I did, didn’t I?’ You remained silent, not trusting your voice.

He chuckled, his warm breath fanning over your neck. “It’s about time~”

“Heh?”

His arms tightened around you. “You took forever to confess. I was beginning to wonder if you were going to give up.”

You stared at the linoleum floor blankly as the pieces clicked together in your brain. “Wait a minute… did you… did you brush off all my questions to try and get me to confess to you?”

“Puri~”

“You – I – ugh! You’re so frustrating!” You scowled, trying to pull yourself free from his grip. He obliged, releasing you and you turned around, hands on your hips as you met his insufferable smirk. “You’re such a jerk!”

“But I’m a jerk you like~” He grabbed your hand, lacing his fingers with your own before leaning down and lightly pecking your lips. You hated to admit it, but the annoyance you felt slowly dissipated as he tugged you down the hall toward class.

You smiled, gently squeezing his hand. “Niou Masaharu, you’re a total jerk but… you’re my jerk.”

“Blue,” he responded, sending you a soft, genuine smile – much like the one he had given to the kitten but filled with more love and warmth.

“Blue?” you repeated, glancing at him curiously.

“My favorite color. Make sure you remember it,”

“I will!” You laughed.

━━━━━━༻🌧️༺━━━━━━

📜 Read more by checking out my masterlist 📜

[becomingbts]

Hey!🙉 I'm new to your blog and I really enjoyed reading your writings!💕💞 Especially Foe and Dear!! Can't wait for the next chapter(s)!😅😊 (I know this here is actually for asking questions but I couldn't send a message since I didn't verify my email T^T sorry xd)

Hello dear! Please feel free to send anything, we’re always happy to see feedback! I’ll make sure to tell the other admin for Foe and Dear, because I wasn’t the one to write it! (as you can see in the masterlist, there are three different people writing, but one admin has retired)

I’m always happy to see something in the inbox even if it’s for the admin IC, I’m glad that you enjoy our writing! I don’t always answer because sometimes the post are really directed to admin IC, but I love to read everything everyone send uwu (btw a new one shot is coming soon from my part hehe I need to rpoofread it though)

Take well care of yourself bub!

Thank you again for letting us known!

with much love - Admin Dolly

[365daysofsasuhina]

[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day One Hundred Sixty-Six: In a Shambles ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata, Uchiha Shisui ] [ SasuHina ] [ Verse: A Light Amongst Shadows ] [ AO3 Link ]

One would think that - for a shinobi as powerful and renowned as Uchiha Sasuke - there’s no task too big or too small. No quest beyond his ability. No foe too fearsome, no problem he cannot solve.

...but you would be wrong.

“And when was this decided?”

“Two weeks ago.” Folding up a shirt, Hinata carefully arranges it in her bag.

“Were you given any choice…?”

“Technically, yes...in reality? Not really. It was one of those things where you’re told you can say no...but are also told the consequences for doing so would be dire. So...I decided to accept.”

Leaning against the bedroom door, arms crossed, Sasuke doesn’t bother to censor a scowl. “Do they not realize you have responsibilities?”

“Everyone has responsibilities,” his wife gently counters. “And mine include those to my clan.”

“This is your clan.”

At that, she gives him a chiding glance. “...my birth clan, Sasuke.”

He just scowls a little harder.

“It’s just for a few days in the Hi no Kuni daimyō’s palace. I’ll be back before you even know I’m gone.”

“Impossible. I’m already missing you, and you haven’t even left yet.”

Hinata gives a soft sigh of exasperation, smiling wearily.

“Besides...why are they asking you to go? Shouldn’t Hanabi be the one representing the clan, now?”

“...yes and no. She was made heiress after I was...removed. But apparently they want the firstborn...not necessarily the heir. It’s an odd stipulation, but...I’m sure there’s a reason for it.”

Her husband sighs curtly. “...so I take it that’s also why Itachi is leaving?”

“Yes...he told me yesterday he received the same summons. As have all the other eldest clan heirs in Konoha. The purpose isn’t really...clear, but I’m sure they’ll elaborate once we get there.”

“And we can’t go with you?”

Hinata gives a wry smile. “I’m not sure this is the sort of meeting for little children. Hence why our two and Itachi’s three have to stay here. You’ll handle them just fine, I’m sure. Both of them are so well-behaved.”

Ah...if only she knew.

Once her bag is packed, Sasuke, Tenkai, and Chikyū all escort her to the main village gate where a caravan is waiting. Itachi also walks with his family, Shisui tagging along and helping wrangle the trio of children.

Daughter on his hip, Sasuke watches as Hinata is helped into a carriage. Huh...they really are going all-out for this, aren’t they? A tiny sliver of him is jealous, if only in a superficial way.

“Bye kāchan!” Tenkai calls, climbing up on the foothold and clinging to the edge of the door’s window.

Hinata smiles, ruffling his hair. “I’ll see you soon, Tenkai. Be good for your father, will you?”

“I will!” Retreating to stand beside Sasuke, he waves alongside his sister as the group makes to depart.

Well...so it begins.

“Yo, Sasuke!” Shisui waves the trio over, Itachi’s youngest atop his shoulders and giggling. “Think you’ll survive a week without the missus?”

Sasuke blinks owlishly at his cousin. “I’ll be fine.”

“All right - if anything comes up, pipe up! M’gonna hang at the manor when I’m off work to help juggle these three little monkeys. Head on over if they get outta hand, all right?”

“Yeah, sure.” Psh, like he’ll need help from someone like Shisui: unmarried, no kids, and addicted to his job. They’ll be just fine.

While the others take the time from the compound to run errands, Sasuke takes his pair back home early. He can handle this just fine. His kids are well-behaved, quiet, and cleanly. This’ll be a breeze.

Or...so he thinks.

“All right you two, let’s have some lunch,” he announces when they get back. Setting Chikyū in her highchair, he instructs Tenkai to sit while he whips something up.

He’s gone all of ten minutes, sure they’ll be sitting obediently just as he left them.

But when Sasuke emerges...Tenkai is gone. And somehow, Chikyū got her hands on a pile of napkins, which she’s been meticulously shredding into a plethora of tiny pieces on the floor, and on the chair’s tray.

Deadpanning, he sets the plates on the table. “All right, put those down…”

As he goes to take the paper from her, Chikyū wastes no time in giving an ear-splitting screech, launching into a sobbing fit.

He...was not expecting that.

Still struggling to clean up her mess, he glances over as he spots Tenkai taking a plate and bolting. “Hey! We only eat at the table! Tenkai!” Torn between chasing him and cleaning up his daughter’s spot, he settles on the former.

Having retreated to his room, Tenkai’s got his plate on his bed. And already, a smear of sauce is soaking into his bedclothes!

How -? But he just -?

All the while, Chikyū continues her squealing in the dining room. “Tenkai, we eat at the table,” Sasuke insists, taking away the dish despite his son’s protests. “Go sit down, and I’ll...wash your sheets after dinner.”

From there...it only gets worse.

Chikyū decides to start trying to eat the napkins. Any attempt to stop her gets him cried at. Once he strips his son’s bed to wash the bedclothes, Tenkai insists on jumping on the mattress despite Sasuke’s insistence otherwise. Upon leaving the pair alone in their room for five minutes, he returns to find them scribbling with crayons on the floor. Giving them paper encourages his daughter to try eating that, instead.

Anything that can go wrong...does go wrong.

Over the next several days, Tenkai wets the bed. Chikyū gets a bellyache. Tenkai manages to break a lamp. Chikyū knocks over one of Hinata’s favorite indoor potted plants.

...how does she do this?!

Needless to say, by week’s end, Sasuke is at the end of his rope. Pride has kept him from calling his sister-in-law or cousin for help. Instead, he’s run himself ragged keeping up with the disasters. The house is in a shambles, any attempt to clean ruined as something else goes wrong.

He will never doubt Hinata’s housekeeping or child-rearing skills ever. Again. She’s a queen. A goddess. A being of endless patience and grace.

So when she gets back, he wastes no time in embracing her tightly.

Wide, pale eyes blink in surprise. “...hello to you, too.”

“Please…”

“...Sasuke?”

“Please...take them away from me.” Parting, he sees his wife jump at his appearance. His hair is greasy (he hardly dares to shower - too long without watching them), there’s dark circles under his eyes (he can’t sleep more than an hour before someone starts crying), and all in all...he looks like a broken man.

Hinata just...stares. “What on earth -?”

“Kāchan!”

Thumping across the floor, both children rush to hug their mother.

“What is going on here? Have you two been giving your father a hard time?”

“Nooo…” her son mumbles.

Clearly not believing him, Hinata insists, “Both of you, to your room. Now.”

“But -?”

“Now.”

Heads hanging in shame, the pair retreat at a far less lively pace than they entered.

Only once they’re gone does Hinata turn to her husband in shock. “...I can’t believe this...they’re normally so well-behaved…!”

“I think they knew I was a target...inexperienced,” Sasuke laments.

Wilting with a sigh, Hinata gives him a sympathetic smile. “Well...you did your duty. I’ll take it from here. Why don’t you just...go take a nap, ne? I’ll try to start bringing order back into the chaos.”

“...all right. You’re amazing, you know that?”

“Thank you, dear.”

                                                              .oOo.

     Tiiired, long day @~@      Random SasuHina family fluff. Or torture, if you look at it from Sasuke's POV xD In all honesty, his kids ARE well-behaved. But a prompt is a prompt, so...here's them being little monsters, lol      With that tho, I need to go pass out - thanks for reading!

[wo-the-wolf]

The Revenant’s Shield and Sword, Part 2

Legends and Fables always have a center mass at which some truth lies. How we spin these tales over the ages can say a lot about our civilizations. But one thing crossed my mind at some point. A grand tale of cat and mouse, of lies and deceit, for as we all wear masks in public, those in darker corners of the world wear masks to decide the fates of millions. Sometimes when our masks are cracked, people see what we are truly capable of in the face of adversity. What if humans were the only ones that held hatred so strong, or love so deep; what if we were the only species to willingly butcher a hated foe? What if we were the only ones willing to even attempt defy our very natural laws? What if, what we called passion and loyalty, made us into monsters in the galaxy? Monsters that were feared for their dedication, and respected for the same? All characters have an origin story. This will tell the tale of their meeting. A pure heart turned sour and an honorable heart turned murderer deciding to make their own future, their own choices. But at what cost is it deemed too great? This is the meeting of Emma and Derrick. Enjoy! (Also prepare for a throwback to RvB, one of my favorite shows on the internet XD) ———————————————- A Response, to Director Veiz, head of the Overseer Committee, from the Director of Black Monarch and Project Sentinel. Dear Director, Our projects were made in that, of the preapproved notions by all manner of boards and dull committees, to be in the name of defense and freedom for that of the People hereof the Terran Republic. My resources, and where they come from, are of no concern as duly noted by the Chairman, so long as the defense of the Republic’s people, and therefore all manner of citizen under their just law, is adhered to. I hereby do state that there is absolutely nothing of which you have to receive from your requests.  Do note, Director, that we understand the incident that has transpired at Base 22-F, was that of a simple bubble in the security protocols we have. While Agent Derrick “King” and Private Emma Taures are currently MIA, we have our methods of which we will insure the capture and incarceration of our Agents. Do note the Committee for Military Investment has, in it’s own report, saw fit to claim we are within our very right to continue handling this matter as we see fit.  Director W. -Message from Director Wolf, to Director Paul Veiz, Regarding the whereabouts of Agent 01, Derrick J. Ishmael, and Private Emma Taures, and the operations known as Project Black Monarch and Project Sentinel,of which they were a part of respectively. Investigation 01, run by the committee for Terran Republic Galactic Security.  --------------------------------------------------------------------- The Fourth Day.  Derrick and Emma sat in the training room, covered in sweat and toweling off. The rest of the team seemed to be avoiding them, as the Sentinels were bonding well with the Monarchs of their teams. However Derrick and Emma were less than successful. Both set of eyes saw to the leader board the Director had set up, in order to track their project. There they sat, dead last and far beneath the rest.  “Hey’ it’s all good Emma, I’m sure you’ll get luckier, the guy just needs to chill,” Kyle patted her shoulder before wandering off with his Monarch partner in tow. “Chill indeed.” Emma grunted upon finishing re-equipping her armor, just as Derrick wandered towards her. Kyle pushed past Derrick, smirking as he shrugged and went along his way.  “Well . . . I do my best to be loved,”  Derrick shrugged. 

“Can you just fuck off and leave me be to pick up the pieces of what was supposed to be an advancement in my role as a soldier of the Terran Republic? For fucks sake, you’re supposed to be my Monarch, you have to follow my orders!” Emma stood towering above him, glaring down at Derrick. Despite her combat records, despite her efficiency, and the ease of the task that would be the killing of Derrick if needed, Derrick, aware of all of this, stood staring at her without fear nor tension. “Say something!” She growled at him.  Derrick looked back at the door, his eyes glowed for a brief moment, “We should go to the War Room.”

“We’re not done yet!” She reached forward for his throat before suddenly stopping. She struggled, and Derrick’s eyes seemed to glitch momentarily. “What the?” Emma struggled more before Derrick began walking. 

“Thanks for the head start,” Derrick smirked ever so slightly without looking back at her.  After he was long gone, she could suddenly move again, her armor felt finally out of whatever lock it was in, yet she herself had so many questions. “What the fuck was all that?” She grumbled before looking around in surprise. “Security shut down her armor maybe? Locked her in place?” She thought to herself. 

With no answer in mind, Emma finally trudged to the war room. Upon entering she saw the rest of them. Her team and their Monarchs. “Funny,” she thought quietly as she made her way to her seat. “They look more like servants, rather than some kind of royalty.” She sighed and took a seat near the middle right, Derrick at her side quietly watching the front of the war room.  Director Wolf, along with his assistant, stood at the front of the class. The Assistant stepped forward, “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. My name as most of you know, is Doctor Henrietta, I’ve called you all over for a very special meeting.” To those who would first hear her voice, look at her face, the good doctor with the snow colored hair sounded sweet and innocent. She seemed like someone that you could trust your secrets with, your problems, everything. To those among the Monarch Program, the Good Doctor was to be feared. Her icy blue eyes were void of light, but her smile was so genuine it sent shivers down even Derrick’s spine.  “Why were we called?” Asked one of the other agents. He was a young yet gruff looking man with blood colored eyes, heavily scarred and grim looking. The doctor kept her smile and nodded, “Why for a briefing of course. . . As you all know, eventually you will be sent on missions for the betterment of the Terran Republic. Until then, it falls upon me to regulate your vitals and mental status. I send you to dangerous places, you complete objectives, missions, etc, and ultimately work together, Sentinel and Monarch. Once you achieve a certain level of experience, you are to be shipped back out to the regular military, and better serve your people and all her colonies. Tomorrow you will be sent to a secret facility controlled by a rogue group of Oba’shen and humans. They’ve occupied an independent medical station that was conducting vital research for your. . . Enhancements,” she grinned, “You will be going here.” 

The Doctor tapped away at her data-pad, then a large cylindrical like structure appeared before them all. “It’s a pretty big station,” stated one of the Sentinels.

“Very observant,” Doctor Henrietta smiled, clearly being sarcastic. “As you can see this facility is cutting edge, and well defended. It will be your jobs to secure it at once tomorrow. The Director shall take over from her.” She bowed her head ever so slightly.

Director Wolf stepped forward, “Thank you, Doctor,” he nodded, “I know your training is being cut short. But there are assets aboard that facility that will be moved by the end of the week, i.e. two days. We have to hit them hard, and we have to hit this traitors fast. Once you board, Agent Eredin will keep the operation running.” He gestured to a young man near the front of the room. The Sentinel nodded, sitting up proud and strong as accepted his task. 

“That cunt is the leader?” Derrick scoffed ever so slightly. 

“Is there a problem, Agent King?” Director Wolf gazed at Derrick. 

“No, of course not, no,” Derrick shrugged, “Just looking for trouble is all.” 

“At ease, Agents . . . The plans will be forwarded to your HUDs, study them. Agent Eredin will inform you all of your assigned tasks and what is to come. I recommend you all get some rest tonight . . . Your first mission is expecting absolute success.” He stated before nodding for them to leave. “Dismissed.

Derrick smiled as everyone got up to leave, Emma grabbing his room and practically dragging him out of his seat. Director Wolf, frowned back, looking at Derrick with a cold hatred. “Insure the operation is a success, Agent Eredin,” he looked to the Sentinel who nodded again. “Every objective . . . Must be complete.”

“Yes sir, Director.” Eredin nodded before rising, his female Monarch following quietly. 

TO BE CONTINUED ——————————————————————————- HEY YOU! How’s it going? It was a pleasure to work on this arch of the short stories I’m doing this to pass time during my last year of university. Once again don’t forget, if you have any prompts you want me to work on just send me them, tag me in them, anything at all! I will put them in the que if I like em! All my stories are connected so never fear, old characters will always come back! Until next time, Fly safe fellow Explorer’s of the unknown. On an extra note, your comments, messages, and asks are always appreciated and read, plus most likely answered ^w^ thanks again! 

[darth-salem-emperor-of-earth]

Day 6: Right Here In His Arms

Day 6 is here for me! Finally oh finally, I managed to get this next ficlet out before it was too late in the night for me. Day Six stars my WoW blood elf OC, Parisa, and @gwyncath‘s endearing blood elf demon hunter Trystalan. This story takes place after Trys has returned home after being away for so long and learning he fathered a daughter before he left (yeah, that was a tad bit awkward XD) and he and Pari are trying to sort their relationship out and being a new family. I had fun writing this cute oneshot and showing a good and positive change in their relationship. Happy reading! :D

For a while, Parisa had been use to waking up alone. During her hunts, when the sun barely peeked through the horizon, shadows still dancing over the forest and grasslands while the sky was soon painted in hues of violet, indigo, pink, and burnt orange. And when Trystalan was gone, leaving her to battle a foe she barely fathomed, rendering her nights cold, empty, and heartbreaking. Soon those emotions were replaced with the impending arrival of Rowyna, their precious daughter who was carefree, creative, and completely fearless. She was the light in Parisa’s life, filling the void she experienced after Trystalan’s departure and reminding her that despite how her relationship with the first man she ever truly loved had ended, together, they created something very special. And she was grateful for such a gift.  

Yet after countless years had passed, so much transpired--including the return of Trystalan and him meeting his daughter for the very first time. The reunion between the former lovers had first started off as awkward, rather painful at times, and full of uncertainty. Pari didn’t know what to do with him, even though her heart still hummed and danced the mere sight of him and pleasant lilt of his voice while Trystalan was nervous around her, afraid he would no longer be welcomed to see her again, for inflicting such emotional wounds that went too deep to merit forgiveness. But no matter, the blood elf huntress missed him, so much it nearly ached not to touch him, and wanted him back in her life, even if he decided to only stay for Rowyna. Her daughter deserved to spend time with her papa.

Bit by bit, they began to mend their relationship, all the while catching each other up in what the other had been doing for the last several years. Parisa reckoned Trystalan didn’t reveal everything he experienced when he was fighting with demons and a greater menace she was unaware of, and the crimson haired blood elf understood that. After all, she refrained from mentioning the awkward, disdainful, and sometimes indifferent treatment she received from some of the other elves, especially when she had Rowyna and was determined to keep her. She knew if Trys ever found out, the guilt he carried would multiple in tenfold. Besides, Pari stopped caring about the city or her fellow denizens thought about her years ago. She had her brothers and sisters, her daughter, and now, Trystalan and that was all she needed. 

A few months after his return and him living back and forth in her house with her siblings, Parisa found herself wanting more of Trys, desiring him to feel more at home in their abode and stay there longer than a few days. She still loved him, always had, and always will. To stop loving him would be stop herself from breathing. 

“Trystalan,” she began softly, watching him fondly as he stroked a slumbering Rowyna’s head with such gentle love and care, patting her downy strawberry blonde curls. He was so good with her and despite his absence, Rowyna had taken a shine to him. To the little blood elf child, her father went off to battle terrible forces of evil to protect everyone and was a hero, despite Trys’s protest of the latter. 

“Hmm?” The said hunter glanced up, his head aimed at her general direction. Even though she couldn’t see his eyes, obscured with a strip of cloth tied around his head, the huntress felt the weight of his gaze on her. After all, his magic didn’t leave him totally blind, even though demons had left their mark on his eyes. Parisa motioned him to follow her so their conversation wouldn’t disturb their daughter’s rest. Once the door was shut, Trystalan spoke. “Is everything all right?”

She nodded but looked down, suddenly feeling shy and insecure. What if he politely rejected her offer? What if he no longer experienced the same emotions and loved he had for her prior to his departure? She doubt she could handle losing him and his heart again. “Yes, everything is fine. I was simply wondering if you planned on staying the night, that instead of sleeping on the couch, my bed is available to you.”

His eyebrows shot up so rapidly that if the situation hadn’t been so serious, she would have chuckled. He scratched the back of his head, loose blonde strands falling down and covering his face as he contemplated her offer. A concern expression steadily morphed on his breathtaking features as she brushed the flaxen tresses aside and tucked them behind his ear. “Pari...are you sure? I don’t want to do anything to hurt you or force you to feel obligated to be so cordial to me. I don’t deserve your kindness.” 

Heart aching with such intense longing for him, Parisa grabbed one of his hands and placed it over her heart, refusing to let go until he finally understood. “You’re not forcing me to do anything, Trys. I want this, for some time actually but was too fearful to bring it up before. I’m not expecting anything to happen, I just...” She paused, a catch in her throat as all the sensations she kept inside of her were beginning to percolate and simmer over. “I just want you to hold me. I miss going to bed with you, falling asleep in your arms, and waking up to see you’re still there.” 

Releasing his hand, Pari hung her head, a heavy rosy blush warming on her cheeks at her little confession. Was that too much? Did she push Trys into a point in their relationship where he wasn’t ready and would only agree to her proffer to make her feel better or even worse, out of guilt and not genuine affection? Did she ruin all their hard work now?

Tormented by her maddening, frantic, and worrying reverie, Parisa didn’t notice Trystalan move in nigh and encircle his arms around her. Once he embraced her and pulled her to his chest, she realized what was betiding. She then blinked in surprise, her troubled musings retreating far away to the corners of her mind, forgotten. He rested his forehead affectionately against hers. 

“I miss all of that too, Pari. If I can make you feel safe and loved again, I will do so gladly.” He then kissed her brow and absolute rapture surged from her heart to everywhere else.

“Really?” she whispered, happy tears prickling her eyes and she blinked them back fiercely. Her hand reached out to stroke his face, thanking her stars and deity who’d listen for granting her wish. There still was hope. 

“Really,” he answered with a small smile, taking her hand to kiss the back of it. Then, without warning, he scooped her up in his strong, muscular arms,  cradling her to his chest. A giggle popped out of Pari and in response, she tossed her arms around his neck, resting her head on his shoulder as the hunter carried her to her quarters, gently kicking the door open wide before closing it shut with his foot. She nuzzled him even as he carefully set her down on the bed, their fingers lingering on each other as if the mere notion of them parting was unbearable. 

As soon as she pulled her tunic over her head, Trystalan’s back was already turned, offering her some privacy as she changed into her chemise. Frankly, she wouldn’t have mind if he watched but she fathomed his reasoning. Trys did not desire to anything to make her uncomfortable or exacerbate the budding restart of their relationship. Emotionally, they probably weren’t there yet to lie as man and woman carnally yet that didn’t matter to her. Him being her, touching, kissing, and embracing her was all she needed. Coitus could always come later, when they both were ready.

“All done,” she signaled, wiggling into bed while he simply took off his shirt to join her. There was something so right about them spending their nights together in the same room and now, Parisa felt more secure and content than she had for a while. Riding on this state of bliss, she wrapped her arms around Trystalan’s muscled frame, using his chest as a pillow. As the scent of him wafted around her nostrils, her body relaxed instinctively, as if lulled by a dream. His arms were soon engulfing her, one hand rubbing her back soothingly while the other massaged her scalp, fingers tenderly tousling her ruby tresses. 

“Does that help?” he asked. 

She nodded. “Absolutely,” she nearly purred, pressing her lips to his warm, sculpted chest. “Thank you.”

A delighted smile graced Trystalan’s handsome visage. “No, thank you, Pari. Sweet dreams, my dear.” He kissed the top of her head, savoring the softness of of her hair. Parisa sighed dreamily, absorbing this paradisaical moment into her heart and mind for all eternity. She would never forget this hopeful, serene, and loving night between for as long as she lived.   

[erubadhriell]

Replies

Many replies under the cut.

@leysendris replied to the post “Replies”

I am starting to get a little bit nervous about this NSFW function of tumblr, since everyone seems to have issues with it, but I never noticed it happening to me. So I am asking myself the whole time, if I just overlooked it and all my stuff is flagged nsfw >.<

I didn’t notice it before, but them, I saw people reblogging Gus posts and I just realized that many of his posts, some I posted weeks ago, were tagged as NSFW by Tumblr. Good thing that they always removed it when I ask for analyse it, but it always took some time. So I guess it’s a very random thing from Tumblr.

@djfatchip replied to the post “Replies”

I also saw a post of the NSFW and its flagged as well by tone of color? some of the food blogs have recipes that show raw chicken breast and tumblr flags it as NSFW because of the color. So maybe that's another thing that causes the NSFW and since Gus and Jessica are pale skinned, that might be why it shows? Its really confusing and terribly annoying... LOL Scoped and Dropped! xD I love Garrus xD

Celestine: No... you don't want to live like I do... constantly looking over your shoulder and keeping your guard up. Can't feel safe inside or outside. Its no way to live but we get used to it. Pffff v-v Vakarian ain't the only one who can say end of the wold shit. Garrus: Yes I can v-v Celestine: No you cant v-v And i'm not going anywhere. I made a promise. I intend to keep it. But you better come back. Always. Garrus: Or Kitten kicking your ass back to life xD 

LOL It seems that raw chicken breast is also too hot for Tumblr. LOL xD But yes, maybe there’s something to do with color? LOL But it is still a very random thing. I hope Tumblr stops with this NSFW thing and do real measures to stop the porn blogs instead. LOL 

Gustav: We will fight these demons, Claire. You won’t need to live with fear again. I’m with you, always... 

Gustav: I will always come back to you and you better come back alive. I’ll be waiting. Or I will help Bell to kick your ass back here. u.u 

Jessica: I’m kicking and slapping your ass with a singularity back here if you don’t come, Twin. xD

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@maharielings replied to the post “Finished The Witcher 2 and what an awesome game...”

I see you took Iorveth's path. Very nice. :D

Yes, I took his path, because I really liked him. :D And it was very interesting to see this point of view. But I think I will eventually play TW2 again and take the Roche’s path as well, to see the all the points of the game. I really enjoyed it very much. :D

@djfatchip replied to the post “Finished The Witcher 2 and what an awesome game...”

These are amazing screenshots! Love these! :D

Thank you very much, Dear :D

@ ratchsellsfornax replied to the post “Finished The Witcher 2 and what an awesome game...”

As far as I remember there aren't many choices which have influence on your TW3 game. The special of the Witcher games was always that you get the result of your desicions during your current playthrough..not like in the Dragon Age Series but you will met a lot of o,d friends and foes :D Nevertheless TW3 is a fantastic game and I enjoyed it a lot... such beautiful landscapes

Yes, I believe that most of the choices, we see already in game and it’s a very nice element, because I love seeing the consequences of the choices we make in game. Sometimes I feel like some choices in Dragon Age series don’t mean much. But there are some choices in TW2 that I felt like it has some potentials to be in TW3 as well, especially some of the last choices of the game. Ah, so far, I’m enjoying TW3 very much! I’m still at the beginning, but I’m already loving it and the landscapes are really amazing :D

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@djfatchip replied to the post “Just like the old times. Their old times.”

Their old times. Ahhhh such a lovely time... >:D Now whip their asses Jessi! YOU GO YOU BEAUTIFUL EMERALD GEM! :D

Yes, the old times of the SR1 are the best. xD hahaha LOL She will totally whip and slap their asses with Singularity. :D Jessica: *blushes* That’s what I’m here for. xD THANK YOU! :D

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@stargazerblueuniverse replied to the post “Jessica is probably a krogan, then.”

Love this conversation. xD hahaha

LOL Me too! :D One of my favorites. xD hahaah

@leysendris replied to the post “Jessica is probably a krogan, then.”

well, she definitely has the sensibility of a Krogan XD

Plus she has an uncle Krogan, a baby Krogan and she also kills Thresher Maws on foot. xD hahahaha

@amimariigoti replied to the post “Jessica is probably a krogan, then.”

LOL I'm sure she would look incredible as a krogan <3 :D

She would totally look incredible as a krogan, a very kickass krogan :D

@timetravelagain  replied to the post “Jessica is probably a krogan, then.”

Awww cuties love her smile in the end. :D

They really are adorable and awkward nerds. I love her smile at the end too. :D

@djfatchip replied to the post “Jessica is probably a krogan, then.”

LOL I love this part xD

I love this part too. xD hahaha

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@leysendris replied to the post “Jessica Shepard visiting the Citadel after two...”

This shot looks really cool, a bit like security camera footage :D

Thank you very much, Dear! :D Exactly my thoughts when I was editing this pic. xD

@stargazerblueuniverse replied to the post “Jessica Shepard visiting the Citadel after two...”

This is an awesome shot of her. Love her expression :D

@djfatchip replied to the post “Jessica Shepard visiting the Citadel after two...”

She looks gorgeous love her expression! :D

@timetravelagain  replied to the post “Jessica Shepard visiting the Citadel after two...”

Awesome pic! She is absolutely gorgeous! :D

Awww thank you all very much! Happy you all liked it <3 :D

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@djfatchip replied to the post “Ah, the good old times.”

Ahhhh GOOD OL' TIMES LOL Tell me why I imagine Jessica with a spiked iced tea, rocking in a chair, telling a story to her grandchildren and at the end of it she says that? xD hahahahaha! Ah! I love Shakarian xD

You imagine that because that’s totally what will happen in her future. xD She will have soooo many stories to tell to her children and her grandchildren. And they were the good old times. xD hahahahhaa! I love Shakarian too xD hahaha

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@leysendris replied to the post “Just some badass screenshots of Jessica that I liked.”

She looks indeed badass. and Beautiful <3

@stargazerblueuniverse replied to the post “Just some badass screenshots of Jessica that I liked.”

Super badass and beautiful! Love this!

@djfatchip replied to the post “Just some badass screenshots of Jessica that I liked.” 

OH! She looks so badass and gorgeous!

@amimariigoti replied to the post “Just some badass screenshots of Jessica that I liked.”

She is sooo beautiful and badass! Love her :D

Thank you all very much! <3 She really looks really badass, she is ready to kick some asses in style. xD

[siren-dragon]

Long Live the King - (Ardyn Izunia x Reader) Ch.1

I finally finished the first (technically second) chapter! ^_^

First off, I want to say thank you to everyone who liked/reblogged/read this story, I was amazed at the responses I got. Second, even though I am writing this story, the prompt was @maty-yami idea, so be sure to thank her and send her some love too. Also, I am sorry if this chapter seems a little messy, as I am writing this at an ungodly hour XD

Anyway, let’s get this started!

Your head felt heavy as you slowly opened your eyes. Sunlight flittered through the window to your left as a light breeze blew the sheer curtains hanging beside it. As the fog cleared away from your mind you willed your arms to move, managing to clench your hand against soft cotton. Where were you? And was the one who brought you here to be branded a friend or foe?

“I see you are awake,” a deep voice spoke.

Slowly turning your head to the doorway, you took a moment to observe your visitors. A middle aged man stood before you with another man standing behind, their clothing suggesting the possession of influence. He wore a tailored black suit with a indigo vest and blue scarf; completed with a navy over-coat that came to his knees. His hair was a dark grey, matching that of his full beard and he carried himself with the air of a man of station. Though his intimidating appearance slowly diminished as he gave you a kind smile.

The second man reminded you much of Gilgamesh, his stoic expression betraying none of his thoughts as he kept his gaze focused on you. His appearance screamed that of a man of strength, the katana at his hip clearly not a mere piece of decoration. The man kept his eyes focused on you with his hand hovering near his weapon, ready to unleash it’s wrath upon you should anything occur.

“You have managed to cause quite a stir when my son found you in the lake this morning.” The bearded man chuckled, coming to sit in the chair beside the bed you laid in.

“I am sorry…” you croaked out, your voice raspy and soft from lack of use. “It was not my intention to cause trouble...”

“There is no need for apologizes, no lasting harm has occurred. Though I am curious as how you managed to enter the Citadel undetected.”

“I’ve always lived within the Citadel.”

The two men frowned in confusion at your answer, sharing a look that made you rather nervous. “Miss, no one has ever seen you before until today. Please answer our questions honestly.” The standing man spoke, his pale blue eyes hardening into ice chips at your response.

“I do not understand….I’ve lived here all my life…” You spoke, your voice changing pitch as panic began to settle in your stomach.

“Please calm down, Miss; we just want to know who you are and how you came here.” The bearded man said in an attempt to soothe your nerves.

“No, I-I don’t know you! Leave me alone!”

You shoved the man aside and out of his chair, taking him and his guard both by surprise before running for the exit. Yanking open the door you ran out into the corridor, causing the servants you passed to shout in shock. Blindly you ran through the corridors with the sound of boots echoing behind you, trying to escape whatever mad fantasy you had fallen into. You came to a halt when the shouting of what seemed like guardsman came from the front while footsteps came from behind. Immediately you turned right and bolted down the corridor toward the light that shone at the end as fear pumped your feet to move faster. The sudden exposure of sunlight caused you to wince, raising your arm to shade your vision as your eyes adjusted. You tried to catch your breath and paused; recognizing the scent of fresh grass and flowers.

You were within the Royal Garden, the place you had so often tended to with your father. Where your beloved knelt before you to ask for your hand in marriage. It all looked as before; cherry blossom trees surrounding the lake with the bridge, gazebo with roses twisted all around, even the gardenias you’re your father had planted when you were a child. And yet…you could not help but stare in wonder and horror at the city skyline that the garden overlooked.

Buildings as far as the eye could see, some even taller than the Statues of the Old Wall, no longer made of stone but metal and glass. Long, winding bridges flowed through the city like rivers of black water while large metal boxes upon wheels moved like salmon up a stream. Above your head you saw the tell-tale shimmer of a magic-barrier, encasing the entire metropolis within it. You fell to your knees at the sight, staring in disbelief at the appearance of the Crown-City. What happened to your home? What was going on?! You felt as if the world was crumbling beneath your feet as you tugged at your hair in a panic, wishing with all your might for someone to save....

“Hey, it’s you.”

The voice startled you out of your mental breakdown, causing you to turn around to the source of the voice. Behind you stood a young black-haired boy, dressed head-to-toe in black, gazing at you curiously. “Are you okay Miss? When we saw you floating in the lake, we thought you had drowned.”

“Yes….I am fine. And I believe it is you who I owe my life.” You gave a small, shaky smile to the young boy, bowing your head in gratitude, “thank you.”

“Er, your welcome.” The boy said, a slight blush dusting his pale face. “So, what’s your name?”

“….(f/n). May I…ask what your name is?”

“Noctis, but you can call me Noct.” The boy cocked his head to the side as he stared at you, “how did you end up in the lake?”

“I am not sure. I remember…ice….and a cold chill. Then darkness….”

Noctis frowned at your words, “that sounds weird.”

“Yes, I’m suppose it does,” you laughed, his innocence feeling like a breath of fresh air. “But…it is all I have. And that will have to due for now.”

“Noctis!”

You both turned to see the beard man who had spoke to you earlier alongside the katana wielding soldier and another bald man, both glaring at you with hardened eyes. The bearded man kept the kind smile on his face, but his tense posture spoke volumes of his emotional state. “Noctis, I see you have found our…guest.”

“Yeah, I wanted to show her the gardens,” the black-haired boy spoke. His excuse was a poor one, but it caused you to smile nonetheless.

“That is rather kind of you. But I must speak with our guest privately now. Will you please excuse us?”

The boy nodded before tossing you a smile. “Bye (f/n)! I’ll see you later!”

You waved a silent farewell to Noctis as a maid ushered him away from the gardens, leaving you alone with the three men. The tension was so thick it could be sliced with a knife, making the serene garden seem more like a blood-covered battleground. You turned to look at the three men before you, the tears falling from your eyes taking them by surprise.

“I believe you had some questions.”

“I see…so you are as much in the dark as we are.” Regis sighed, resting his chin upon his laced fingers.

You nodded, refusing to meet anyone’s gaze and instead focusing upon the edge of the grand, oak desk sitting before you. Cor, the man with the katana, had his eyes closed in thought while Clarus, the bald man, kept a neutral face though his eyes shot you a look of pity.

“I am sorry I could not help you,” you mumbled softly.

“It is I who should apologize to you, Miss (f/n). It was our intention to help you, not submit you to a prison interrogation.”

“Yet you choose to tend to my wounds instead of tossing me within your dungeon. For that, you have my eternal gratitude, King Regis.”

Regis gave you a small smile, “your most welcome (f/n). Though with the gaps in your memory being present, there remains the situation regarding your livelihood.”

Though it was only a partial lie, you felt horrible about saying it to the very people who saved your life. Yet there was so much you did not understand, and explaining it to someone would only worsen your situation. No, you had to first discover the truth for yourself, if only for the time-being. “I will take any job you have, so long as I have room and board,” you pleaded.

“Your Majesty…the Kingsglaive is still recruiting members.” Cor spoke for the first time since the start of the meeting. “Perhaps we could send Miss (f/n) there.”

“That’s a rather serious occupation,” Clarus added.

“It will be no trouble to me. I can do it.”

Your answer was said with such conviction, even Cor raised an eyebrow in surprise. The three men all shared a look before turning to face you once more.

“Very well then; welcome to the Kingsglaive Miss (f/n).”

The sound of music echoed around all around as he walked through the familiar garden, like an alluring call to weary travelers. You sat perched upon the same bench, beneath the gazebo of white roses, ocarina pressed to your lips. Beside you sat the small cradle where your son laughed at the cheerful notes you let dance around the air.  Glancing upward you smiled, the very sight taking his very breathe away.

“My love, you’ve returned!” holding out your arms you moved to embrace him, allowing Ardyn to bury his nose within your (h/c) hair.

“Yes my dear, I have come home….”

“But I’m afraid your too late.” You spoke, moving away to show the dagger that was imbedded in your heart, blood pouring down your dress. “You could not protect us…”

Ardyn backed away from you in horror as the once beautiful garden transformed into a decaying ruin. He stared at your body lying upon the floor with the corpse of your son as he fell to his knees, black tears falling from golden eyes. “No! Don’t leave me! Don’t take her too, please! Stop, stop, STOP!”

Ardyn’s eyes snapped open immediately, sitting up right as sweat-drenched sheets pooled around his waist. He rubbed a hand down his face in exhaustion, sleep alluding him once more. Once more he dreamed of you, the sweet music you once played a light within the shadows of his mind. Yet the fantasy never lasted long when the nightmare revealed itself. Oh, how he missed you, his beloved Queen. The suffering you and your innocent child had endured at the hand of those accursed gods…they will pay.

“I will avenge you my nymph, I swear it.” Ardyn snarled as black tears fell from his eyes.

And that is the end of chapter one! I hope you guys enjoyed it and I will start on the next chapter as fast as I can. Take care everyone and have a good night! ^_^