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transmalewife · 4 years ago

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Alright, let's talk about attachment

I can’t find clear information on when exactly the non-attachment rule was added to the code. It was either soon before or soon after the great sith war. Either way, for the VAST majority of the existence of the Jedi, it wasn’t a thing. Jedi got married and had families for over 20000 years, then added the non-attachment rule, which ultimately led to their destruction. And before anyone tries to tell me I believe they deserved to be genocided, I don’t. I have never actually seen anyone say that, but I see people argue against it constantly, and imply anyone who doesn’t think the Jedi were perfect and blameless thinks that. I don’t think they deserved to die, I think they needed to change. And Yoda says that himself, many times. The Jedi weren’t prepared for the return of the sith, or the war. They had separated from the military 1000 years before, and the galaxy was in relative peace all this time, so the order’s role changed to one that worked very well with their rules. Detachment meant they could be impartial when overseeing political disagreements, lack of possessions meant they would be focused on the mission at hand and not prone to taking bribes, and distancing themselves from the general population meant they were more or less uniform, and could be trusted not to side with someone for personal reasons.

All of this falls apart once they become an army again. Impartiality is a flaw when they have to defend one side at all cost and not even allow themselves to consider compromise. Lack of possessions and attachment to people means they are prone to taking unnecessary risks, because they have nothing to lose, and do things like send 14 year olds into battle, thinking of the “greater good” over the safety of children. And the order being a monolith, with set rules and philosophy distinct from the rest of the population meant the Jedi trusted Dooku long after they should have stopped, because he used to be a Jedi after all, surely he still follows the code.

Now, I am not saying non-attachment is always bad, I think it served a very specific purpose in the order, and to some extent worked for many years. However.

Humans are a social species. Human babies NEED physical contact and affection to develop physically. Children need a stable, strong, and supportive relationship to their caregiver to properly develop psychologically. And after last year I don’t think anyone will argue that adults don't need connection with other people just as much. And not just shallow interactions, but open affection and love. Love of any kind, because claiming that the Jedi only forbid romantic love is just untrue. I think people tend to forget that "Compassion, which I would define as unconditional love, is essential to a Jedi's life. So you might say, that we are encouraged to love." isn’t the actual doctrine, it’s a literal pick up line that Anakin uses on Padme.

Ahsoka and Obi-Wan both get criticized by other Jedi for their entirely platonic attachment to Anakin, and vice versa. Now, humans are the most common species in the galaxy, and in the Jedi order. Many other species are near-human, so it’s safe to assume at least some, if not most of them also need that companionship and affection to develop and live happy and stable lives. I do believe that non-attachment is a valid philosophy and chosen path in life if done carefully and within reason, I just don’t think we have a single major character that actually applies to. And chosen is an important word here. Jedi don’t get much of a choice. I’m not trying to start the baby-stealing debate here. I hear the argument of ‘force sensitives are dangerous if left untrained, and said training should start as early as possible’. I think finding a way to deal with that problem was an insanely complicated decision, and taking children into the temple as young as possible is not a bad solution. I don’t entirely agree with not letting them see their families later, (especially since in legends Obi-Wan was allowed to visit his family, which implies Anakin couldn’t go free his mother specifically because he was already too attached), but the idea is sound. I do also understand that no one is forcing Jedi to stay in the order and they can leave for whatever reason at any time. But that isn’t exactly a free choice either. Leaving the order means leaving the only home you remember, the only people you know to make your own way in the galaxy, and staying with those people means you can never fully love them. It’s a difficult solution to a complicated question, and for the most part, it worked (not always, and not exactly as intended, but I’ll come back to that.) Children grew up in the order, were trained to control themselves and the force, and became Jedi who were impartial, patient, and balanced. But everything falls apart when you introduce someone who wasn’t raised in the temple.

In The Rising Force, 13 year old Obi-Wan had barely been off Coruscant in his life. He describes himself as sheltered and unaware of all the pain in the galaxy, and says it was done on purpose, so younglings wouldn’t have to face the dark side before they were ready for it. But Anakin had seen nothing but darkness, pain and injustice before he joined the order. He was severely traumatized, and while the temple might have had some ways of dealing with trauma and PTSD in adults, they had no experience in treating the same in a child, because their children were kept safe and protected. The idea of letting go of your pain and fear only works if you know you have a safe place to come back to, if you’ve spent the first decade or so of your life in the most protected place in the galaxy. Anakin spent the first decade of his life as a slave. He couldn’t let go of his fear, because fear was what kept him alive. Fear is not irrational if you are constantly in danger, it’s what protects you, keeps you aware of the limits you can push before you get punished. And that mindset doesn’t fade just because you’re out of that situation, especially if your only family, the closest person to you, is still facing that danger every day.

I’ve seen people use every excuse possible to explain why Anakin didn’t see his mother again to avoid blaming the council, including, and I shit you not, “He just didn’t have her comm number”. But to me that seems disingenuous, when we see in his first meeting with the council that they already consider him too attached. It's one of the main reasons they don’t want him to be trained, so it seems logical that they wouldn’t allow him to see her once he became a padawan. I also want to mention that what Yoda says, “Fear is the path to the dark side. Fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate, hate leads to suffering.” Is just… blatant catastrophizing. Right? Like we can all see that the escalation is not rational there at all. Maybe it could apply to something else, but not to a child who just left his mother for the first time in his life and went from a tiny dustball in the middle of nowhere to the most populated planet in the galaxy, and is now being tested by a bunch of old people with the power to decide his future. Obviously he’s afraid, and obviously he’s not dealing with it the way Jedi younglings do. That, in and of itself doesn't doom him to fall. Also what Yoda misses there is that suffering leads to fear. This is a closed loop, and one that has defined Anakin’s entire childhood.

Let’s come back to how the system doesn’t always work. The way I see it, most of the characters we see are attached. Obi-Wan is considered one of the greatest Jedi of his time. Windu describes him as “our most cunning and insightful Master—and our most tenacious”. And yet, he was not insightful enough to look past his love for Anakin, his attachment, and see how close to falling he was. Ahsoka was so attached to Anakin she refused to listen to Maul on Mandalore, refused to even consider the posibility he could fall. She was arguably the person with the best shot at preventing the empire forming at that point, and she loved anakin so much she doomed him and the entire galaxy. Aayla admitted to thinking of Quinlan as her father, and also, apparently in legends had a long relationship with Kit. Even Mace didn’t follow the code when he decided to kill Palpatine, which directly led to his death and the empire. He also indirectly caused the war to start. According to wookiepedia “Windu viewed Dooku as the shatterpoint of the entire Separatist movement, which meant striking Dooku down would theoretically end the imminent clone war before it even began. However, Windu's prior attachments to Dooku clouded his judgment.” I’m not even going to mention Kanan and Ezra, who are obviously family.

So basically everyone is attached and lying about it. How has no one thought that maybe this isn’t the healthiest way to live and tried to change the code? Well, I have a theory, and it’s Yoda. He was 900 years old when he died, and was on the council for the vast majority of his life. I can’t find when exactly he became grand master, but it’s safe to assume he held some degree of power over the entire order for most of a millennium. At the end of TPM he tells Obi-Wan “Confer on you the level of Jedi knight, the council does. But agree with your taking this boy as your padawan learner, I do not.” Then he reverses that decision by himself. So either he has the power to veto the council’s word, or who gets trained is entirely up to him. Either way, not great, considering his lifespan is so much longer than most Jedi, and therefore his approach to life is vastly different. Humans need love and closeness to live. However, while we don’t know much about Yoda’s species, it probably isn’t a social one. You could count all the characters of this species on two (human) hands, and Yoda lived in complete isolation for 20 years on Dagobah, and only went a little bit insane. They are naturally rare, and therefore probably lead solitary lives in nature. Moreover, Yoda outlived every master who trained him, and almost every padawan he trained himself, (there’s a great post about that here) so even if he wasn’t naturally predisposed to non-attachment, he would have had to learn it to deal with all the loss he had to live through over the years.

A lot of people think that Anakin fell because he had attachments, which is not true. He fell because of how his attachments played out and/or ended. The most obvious example being Palpatine, who used Anakin’s trust and friendship to groom him for over a decade and actively undermine Anakin’s trust towards anyone else, especially the order. (more on that here). Obi-Wan refused to take on the role of a father figure that Anakin tried to shove him into, so he turned to someone who did accept it. It’s not Anakin’s fault that it turned out to be the worst person alive, nor can we expect him to notice when he’s known Palpatine since he was a child. Another failure of jedi non-attachment, because a loving parent or guardian would not let their child be used as a bargaining chip when the most powerful politician in the galaxy blackmailed the order into allowing him to meet Anakin regularly, but a distant teacher and detached knight thinking of the greater good might. The other attachments Anakin had were taken from him (Shmi and Ahsoka, the last orchestrated by Palpatine who was fully ready to give her the death penalty to make Anakin more unstable), or he was forced to lie and hide them, compromising his vows as a Jedi (Padme) or refused to choose Anakin over the order/their principles (Obi-Wan, and again Ahsoka, and to some extent Padme, but he’d already fallen then). All these people had every right to make the choices they made, but it wasn’t the act of loving them that made Anakin turn to the dark side, it was how those attachments played out.

I think everyone agrees that Yoda is as detached as a Jedi should, if not can, be, and that didn’t prevent Dooku from falling. We see that explored in more detail with Barriss and Luminara. Luminara is detached and distant, she’s fond of Barriss, but their relationship is not familial in the slightest, and she repeatedly shows her willingness to put the greater good and the mission before Barriss’ safety and even life. And yet Barriss still falls. A complex combination of events and choices caused each of those characters to fall, not the simple presence or absence of attachment.

And lastly, just as attachment can make you unstable if your relationship with that person is unstable, it can also make you stronger. There is a reason Anakin and Obi-Wan were the face of the army. Not only did their obvious attachment (the strongest between two jedi we are shown) make them more relatable to the public, but they, when working as a team, are shown repeatedly to be more or less undefeatable. They spend half of aotc flinging themselves off great heights because they know the other will be there to catch them. They know from years of experience that they have backup and they know each other well enough (or force bond communicate) that they can trust the other will be where he needs to be to help/save them. Contrast that to how Windu and Palpatine fight in rots once the window breaks- very carefully, clearly holding back to keep themselves safe. Neither of them has backup until Anakin arrives, but until the last second they can't be sure which one he will choose. Anakin and Obi-Wan fight the same way on Mustafar, especially when balancing on that thin bridge. No acrobatics, swinging arms to keep balance, keeping their distance, being almost uncharacteristically careful compared to how they treated heights in aotc, in tcw, and on the invisible hand in rots, because they both know the other won't catch them if they fall this time.

#star wars meta #attachment #star wars #anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobi #yoda #jedi order #mine

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ibis-gt · 4 years ago

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i made a fairytale au for cam and luther and then wrote nearly 5k words of fic for it?? which is wild bc i am not much of a writer. but. that’s under the cut. content warning for a pretty violent scene towards the end but there’s a happy ending i prommy

Once upon a time, there lived a prince. This prince, Luther by name, lived in a kingdom that was plagued by monsters. His father, the king, had gained his throne by feats of heroism, most notably by slaying a fearsome dragon that had ruled the land for years. The time came for Luther to prove he was worthy of the title of prince by slaying a monster of his own…

Down in the countryside, farmers have been complaining for weeks of an ogre stealing their cattle and frightening their children. So Luther sets off in a splendid suit of armor, with a sword sheathed on one hip, a quiver of arrows on the other, and his bow slung on his back.

Luther rides his horse down to the village where the ogre was last spotted. He talks with the locals and gets a description of the creature. At least forty feet tall, they say, with greenish-grey skin and dark hair and teeth the length of a man’s forearm. Luther leaves his horse behind with the farmers because he doesn’t want her getting hurt and marches off, following a set of giant footprints left behind by the ogre, sword in hand. He would have to admit that he isn’t the best at sword fighting, and that really he’s never faced a monster on his own. But his father gave him a crucial tip: every monster has a weak point. Find the weak point, exploit it, and you’ll win every time.

The footprints lead through the plains of grass, past the area where the farmers let their cattle out to graze, and into a dark forest. The sun is going down before he manages to find the ogre, so he sets up a little camp with a little fire and rests his tired bones. His armor isn’t the most comfortable thing in the world, but it takes forever to get on and off even with someone helping him, let alone by himself. He sits with his back to a big boulder so nothing can sneak up behind him and eventually drifts off.

Luther awakens the next morning and groans at how stiff and sore he is. He sits up and pauses, brow furrowed, remembering that he’d gone to bed sitting upright. But just now, he’d been lying on his back. And he’s not the best tracker, but those giant footprints look… disconcertingly fresh. These things add up in his mind. He just about passes out. He crouches down and puts his head between his knees for a moment until he can breathe again and his heart stops pounding quite so hard. He was right next to it! He fell asleep leaning on it! If his father heard about this he’d give him such a beating. How could he not have noticed that the boulder was actually -

His stomach rumbles, interrupting his panicked thoughts, and Luther remembers that the last time he ate was back in that farming village around two in the afternoon yesterday. He digs out a bit of beef jerky and morosely works at it. His father swears by the stuff, but it just makes his teeth hurt. Luther dreams of the kitchens back home and drools a little.

He gives up on the jerky and manages to take down a couple squirrels with his bow and arrows. He gets his fire blazing again and sets them cooking over it, and sits down to draw in the dirt and form a battle plan. He gets wrapped up in his drawing and loses track of time, but is startled violently back to reality as a deep booming voice from behind him says, “Your squirrel’s burning.”

Luther’s eyes snap up to the fire. He hastily pulls the stick with his squirrels off of it, waving it in the air to put out the bit of squirrel that had caught fire. He blows on it and inspects the damage. Not too bad, a little charred. Still definitely edible. Then realization dawns, and he slowly looks up and over his shoulder.

That’s the ogre. He’s unmistakable. Huge, greyish-green, with shaggy black hair and big tusks that jut out of his mouth. He’s down on one knee looming over Luther, modesty barely preserved by a loincloth stitched together out of the pelts of many different furry animals. Luther wills himself to not faint for the second time that day.

“You gonna eat that?” The ogre booms. “’Cause I will if you won’t.”

“W-well, yes, I was planning to,” Luther quavers, “But there are two, so, um, you can have one if you want? We can share?”

He takes the non-burned squirrel off the stick and holds it up. His hand only shakes a little. The ogre takes it carefully between thumb and forefinger and tosses it in his mouth. With such a tiny morsel, he’d usually just swallow it whole, but an interesting flavor makes him stop and savor it for a moment.

“What’d you do to it? Not like any squirrel I’ve eaten. And I’ve eaten a whole army of squirrels.” He slaps a hand on his formidable belly. The sound makes Luther jump.

“I- I didn’t do much, j-just some seasoning, I-I’m sorry, I d-didn’t mean to, please don’t eat me next."

"You?” The ogre laughs. “Why would I eat you? You shared your food with me. That’s mighty polite. I’d say that makes us friends now, and I don’t eat friends.” He grunts as he shifts position, sitting down heavily and stretching out his legs. “Bad knees,” he grumbles. “Sat like that too long, but I wanted to see what you were drawing."

Luther is now horrifically aware that he is directly between the ogre’s legs. He is also horrifically aware that he was drawing himself hitting an ogre with a sword. He hurriedly kicks some dirt over it.

"Nothing. Nothing interesting. I’m a bad artist anyway.”

“Sure. What’s your name, little tin man? You didn’t seem too talkative when you snuggled up to me last night, but I thought maybe you were just tired. I’m Cam."

"L-Luther.” Oh god. He was supposed to kill this thing, it - well, no, not ‘it’, he can’t think of Cam as an ‘it’ now he knows his name - he’s terrorizing folks, stealing their livelihoods, he’s supposed to drive him away, save the day, bring peace to the kingdom. Instead he’s sharing his meager breakfast and making friends with the monster. How did it all go so wrong!!

“So, Luther, you made of metal? I thought you were gonna take all that off, looks pretty uncomfortable, but you wore it all night. Unless it’s like… you?"

"No, no, um, it’s just… it takes a long time to put it on and take it off? And I usually need help.”

"Well shoot, friend, why didn’t you say so?“ Before Luther can object, a giant hand descends and plucks him up. He panics, struggles in Cam’s grasp, and Cam tsks at him. "I can’t get all that off you if you don’t hold still. Don’t make me squeeze."

Luther goes still. If Cam squeezes the armor, it’ll stay squeezed. He wouldn’t want to still be in it if that happens. Cam clearly has no idea how to get someone out of armor though. He just pulls at clasps and buckles till they break, then shucks the metal off of Luther like an ear of corn. His helmet comes off first, freeing his dark brown curls.

“Aww,” Cam says, “lookit you. You’re kinda cute for a tin man.” He musses up Luther’s hair with a fingertip. "You’re like a little crab,” Cam chuckles. “Crack open the hard shell to get to the soft stuff underneath.” The food metaphor does not put Luther any more at ease as the rest of his armor is pulled off and tossed aside, piece by piece. Cam even strips the chainmail off of him and dumps it on the ground. This leaves Luther in his shirt and breeches, shaking like a leaf and terrified for his life.

“Oh, you cold? Here, I gotcha.” Cam sandwiches him between his hands. Luther awaits the pressure and the horrible crunch that will no doubt be the end of his short life, but it never comes. Cam just holds him there, and truth be told his hands are very warm, and it had been a chilly morning. Luther relaxes very slightly.

After a few minutes, Cam lifts one hand a little and peeks at Luther. “Better?"

"Much better, thank you. Even a little too warm, actually? Can I, um, come out now?"

Cam laughs and opens his hands like a book, then tilts them so Luther tumbles into the palm of his left hand. "So what’s a fancy little shrimp like you doing all the way out here, with that tough shell and those sharp weapons? You huntin’ something?"

Luther hesitates. It’s not… technically a lie, just an omission of truth, right? "Yeees…. Hunting.”

Cam laughs out loud, leaning back and slapping his knee with his free hand. “HA! You are just about the worst liar I ever met, Luther. Whew.” He actually wipes a tear from his eye. Luther feels his face heating up with anger and embarrassment.

“I am hunting! I’m hunting you!” As soon as he says it he regrets it. He slaps his hands over his mouth and cowers back as Cam sits up straight again and looks down at him, raising an eyebrow.

“That so? Huh. Well, you found me, oh mighty hunter. And you fed me, and let me take your armor off you, and left all your sharp things on the ground while you sit in the palm of my hand. So, uh… how’s that goin’ for ya?”

“It… I… um… please don’t kill me?”

Cam grins. It’s not a nice grin anymore. It shows off too many teeth. “Lotsa folks have hunted me, you know. Not a one has succeeded. Most of ‘em can’t find me in the first place, not unless I want them to. Neat little trick we ogres have. We blend in well. The ones who did find me, they regretted it pretty quick. When I heard you clanking along with your silly armor and your little sword, I thought oh boy, here comes another one. But it turns out this one couldn’t find his own ass with both hands and a map, so he ain’t one of them legendary monster hunters lookin’ to claim some bounty. And he’s a little scrawny slip of a thing, too, and he keeps stopping to look at birds. I kinda liked you. And honestly, when you found me, it took me by surprise. Thought I had you pegged all wrong. Then you made your little fire, curled up next to me, and went to sleep, and it took everything I had not to bust my gut laughing right then and there. And now… well, I don’t rightly know what to make of you. Cute little thing, I know that. But cute won’t save you if you wanna tussle with me. So, little hunter… what’re you gonna do now?”

Luther’s nearly in tears. He manages to say, “Then… were you just… toying with me? This whole time? Waiting to see what I’d do?"

Cam shrugs. "Pretty much.” That does it. The waterworks are in full swing. Luther’s chin trembles, his lower lip wobbles, and then tears are streaming down his face and he’s sobbing.

“Y- you’re s-so-ho meeeaaaan,” Luther wails. “Y-you’re j-just making f-fun of me, I thought w-we were friends!”

Cam has absolutely no idea how to respond to this. For some reason he actually feels guilty. “Aw - no - now look, there’s no call for - just… just stop crying, okay? Please?” Luther continues to sob, heedless of Cam’s pleading. “There, there,” Cam tries, patting Luther’s head. “I’m not going to kill you. Okay? How’s that? I’m sorry I called you - well. All those things. I’m sure you’re a great hunter. Look, you got those squirrels. And hey! That one I ate tasted great. You got some real skill there."

Luther wipes his eyes and looks up, teetering dangerously on the edge of another sobbing fit. His eyes are all watery and a little red-rimmed. "R-really?"

"Yes! Of course!” Cam clings to the compliment like a life preserver. “I bet you’re like, like the king’s cook or something, right? Cause you’re the best in the land?"

Luther’s face crumples a little and he looks down, mutters something.

"What?” Cam holds him up a little closer to his ear.

“’m his son,” Luther mumbles again.

“His son? You’re a prince? And you’re all - oh, hell.” Now he’s really put his foot in it. Luther bursts into tears again and curls up in a little ball.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I - oh, ugh, you’re getting my hand all wet.” Cam picks him up between thumb and forefinger and shakes the little tear droplets off his palm. “Now look here,” he says, attempting a sterner approach. “You’re a prince, all right? You can’t be crying and going to pieces just ‘cause some big bad monster was mean to you. You gotta kill big bad monsters, right? So here’s what you’re gonna do.” Cam sets him down gently, picks up his sword and hands it to him. “There you go. You’re gonna take that sword, right, and you’re gonna really let me have it. That’ll make you feel better, won’t it?“

Luther purses his lips and looks up at him. "But… all I can hit from here is your foot. That’s no good. I need a shot at something vital."

"Oh fine, fine, Mr. Picky,” Cam grumbles. He shuffles his legs to the side and leans down til he’s practically laying on his belly. “Face shot. Free one for ya. Go on, hit something good.” Luther considers. Just as Cam realizes how ridiculous this whole thing is, he draws his sword back and plunges it into Cam’s eye.

- Almost plunges it into Cam’s eye. The ogre moves suddenly, turning his head to the side to avoid the blow. Luther makes a deep gash in Cam’s cheek, and Cam roars. “Oh, you sly little shit. Very good, very sneaky. You almost had me there. Fine. We do this the hard way.”

He gets to his feet, draws himself up to his full, impressive height, and looks down at the dirt where Luther was a moment ago. Cam blinks in surprise. “Where’d you… goddammit…” He looks around, trying to catch a glimpse of where Luther could’ve gotten to.

Luther was not about to let the golden opportunity to run and hide during a big dramatic show of power go to waste. He slides into a patch of underbrush, catches his breath, and takes stock. He has no armor, no food, no bow or arrows. Those are all back at his camp, which is currently ogre territory. He has one sword that he’s okay at using. The ogre has the homefield advantage, and some kind of ability, possibly magical, to hide himself from those who want to find him. Luther shouldn’t let him out of his sight. But he should work on camouflaging himself. He takes a handful of dirt and smears it on his face and shirt. The sword he can’t do much about, he’ll just have to try and keep it from glinting. He glances to his left, away from where Cam still stands, turning in circles and peering around. Luther had only gone a little ways into the woods before he stopped for camp last night. He can almost see the forest’s edge from here. He could dart for the grasslands and try to make it back to the village, but he’d be in plain sight as soon as he’s out of the trees and there’s no guarantee Cam won’t just follow him all the way back. The further he goes into the trees the more firmly he is in Cam’s territory, but the more coverage he has.

Possibilities begin swirling around in his head. His best bet is trickery rather than a face to face confrontation. He’s got a running list in his mind of Cam’s weak points now. Food, monologuing, emotional outbursts. Although that last one’s probably off the table now. Bursting into tears isn’t going to get him out of a second pinch. Bad knees - if he can trip Cam up, he can get a shot at his face again, maybe cut his throat or get at his soft belly and sides. Cam’s a talker and likes to gloat, maybe if he gets him distracted by looking pathetic he could get him to walk right into a trap of some kind. He likes food… but Luther doesn’t have the resources to make a big feast to distract him or sate him, just a pouchful of seasoning that he never leaves home without. His lip wobbles again as he thinks about how that’s back at his camp… he may never see his precious seasonings again.

Meanwhile, Cam is getting frustrated. “Well, the little shit can’t have gone far,” he grumbles. “Just gotta flush 'im out.” Luther watches, petrified, as Cam lumbers over to a nearby patch of underbrush and without warning stomps down on it hard, twisting his foot and smashing every inch of it. He steps back and leans down to inspect what’s left. Luther bites his lip hard to stifle a whimper.

“Nope, not there,” Cam announces. “Eeney, meeney, miney…..” Another bunch of bushes are mercilessly ground into the dirt. “Moe. Hmmm. Where are you?”

Luther can’t stay in his hiding place for long. It’s only a matter of time before Cam gets to him. He needs an opening to make a break for it though, if he runs now Cam will spot him right away. As slowly as he dares, he picks up a large, flat rock, then skims it like a frisbee off to his right, where it hits a tree with a satisfying thock. Cam whirls around, and Luther bolts out of the brush. Cam hears the leaves rustling and turns back around, catching sight of him as he flees.

“There you are! Hold on now, don’t go running off! I just wanna talk, I swear. The whole monster-slaying prince thing not working out for ya? I got a better job offer! You can be my dinner!” Luther keeps sprinting as fast as he can, not even bothering to glance behind him. The last thing he needs is to miss a fallen branch or a groundhog hole and trip.

On flat, open land, the ogre would outpace him easily. But if he can get deeper into the forest where the trees are closer together, that could slow him down enough for Luther to get some distance and hide again, have a moment to breathe and think so he can work on his plan. He’s starting to get an idea of what he’ll need. He needs the element of surprise for sure, and he needs more than just his sword. If he had some rope he could set up a tripwire, maybe. He curses himself for not taking his father’s advice about packing, for letting Cam strip him, for being too weak and scared to do anything when he had the chance, for being born in the first place. His eyes well up with tears and he scrubs at them furiously. He can’t afford to have his sight blurred right now, he needs to keep his head clear and keep moving. He can hear Cam’s thudding footsteps behind him, gaining quickly. He can cover so much more ground in a single step. It’s simply not fair. The little bit of distance he was able to gain with his rock trick is disappearing fast and it won’t be long before he’s in arm’s reach.

Almost as if he can read his thoughts, Cam lunges forward and takes a swipe at him, trying to knock him off his feet. Luther hits the deck and Cam overbalances, stumbling and crashing into a tree. The tree snaps when his weight collides with it, and Cam has to windmill his arms to keep from falling over. Luther scrambles to his feet and keeps running. He even manages to put on an extra burst of speed when he hears Cam roar with frustration behind him. He’s not as fast as he could be because he’s lugging the sword along with him, but he doesn’t dare drop it. It proves its usefulness in the next minute. Cam closes the distance and grabs for him. Luther sees the shadow fall over him and whirls around, lashing out at the reaching hand. He slices across Cam’s palm, and Cam howls with pain and pulls back. Luther dashes away, and Cam stomps his foot in frustration.

"Hold still, dammit! You’re just making it worse for yourself!” He takes off after Luther again, but his stamina’s flagging. It’s harder for a creature his size to haul himself around and he’s used to running down his prey in the first minutes of the chase. This has dragged on long enough to tire him out, but he’s not willing to give up just yet. “When I get my hands on you, tin man, you’re paste,” he growls. “They’re gonna have to come up with new words for how dead you’re gonna be.”

The trees start getting close enough together that Luther has to dodge around them from time to time. He can hear Cam behind him crashing through them, spluttering as he gets a face full of branches and leaves. Luther smiles to himself. That’s nice, at least. At last he gathers up his nerve and dodges to the side behind a particularly large tree, hoping that Cam’s too busy navigating the foliage to notice. His gamble pays off. A few seconds later, the ogre goes lumbering past him without so much as a sideways glance. Luther waits just a moment more, then bolts in the opposite direction.

He’s got a plan now. He probably won’t be able to find Cam again, but Cam can find him. So he’ll set up an ambush. He circles back around to his camp and grabs his supplies as quickly as he can, his bow and arrow, his helmet, his tinderbox, and most importantly, his seasoning. He hunts for deer, takes down a decent-sized buck, and sets up a new campfire, deep in the woods, where the trees are close. He’s hoping that Cam will think that Luther thinks he’s safe in there, and that the smell of the meat cooking will lure Cam in. He takes off his shirt and fills it with twigs and leaves, sets his helmet up on a stick driven into the ground, and makes a decently convincing decoy Luther that he leans against a log. The helmet tilts at an angle that makes it look like he’s fallen asleep. With that set up, and night closing in, Luther climbs up a nearby tree and waits, sword in hand.

He doesn’t watch the fire. He wants to keep his night vision sharp. And sure enough, before too long here comes Cam, moving surprisingly quietly for his size. He squeezes through the trees with barely a rustling of leaves. Cam’s eyes are fixed on the fire and the silhouette that the decoy makes against it. Cam gets right behind the decoy and slams his foot down on it. He grinds it into the dirt with a relish that makes Luther shudder. Then Cam looks at the deer cooking with that lovely smell rising off it, and his eyes go big and shiny. As Cam bends down to pick it up, Luther chooses his moment. He drops like a stone and buries his sword lengthwise in the back of Cam’s neck. The impact sends a jolt up his arms and he hangs on as tight as he can. Cam lets out a garbled scream of pain and collapses face first on the ground. Luther gets to his feet, pulls his sword out with some difficulty, takes a deep breath, and begins to chop.

It’s messy, horrible work. By the third swing tears are rolling down Luther’s cheeks. By the seventh, he’s sobbing. After the twenty-third cut, Cam’s head is finally severed, and rolls to the side. Luther stumbles back. He’s trembling, covered in blood, panting and crying, but it’s finally done.

And then Cam’s head says, “Wow, kid. I didn’t think you had it in you.” Luther watches, dumbfounded, as Cam’s body sits up, searches around with its hands, locates his head, and puts it back on his shoulders as the flesh knits together again. Luther drops his sword in disbelief. He falls to his knees. That was it. That was all he had. He can’t even imagine what he could do against a foe who can just reattach his own head.

“Oh,” he says quietly. “Okay. Um. Make it quick, please?” Cam had been planning to crunch the little shit once he was back on his feet, but he can’t help but feel a pang of guilt at how despondent Luther looks.

“Aw, no, no, don’t give up so quick! Really, you almost had me!” Cam scoops him up and pats him on the head. “Look, it was a good effort. I’m sure if you had known I can’t be killed, you wouldn’t have spent all that time and energy trying to kill me. Just do a little more research next time, yeah?"

"Next time,” Luther repeats, and gives a hollow laugh. “There isn’t going to be a next time. I’m not welcome as part of the royal family if I can’t kill a monster. Even my sister’s done her first slaying already. A whole nest of vampires! And I can’t kill one measly ogre."

"Hey, watch who you’re calling measly,” Cam warns, but his heart isn’t in it. ��Jeez. You’ve got some issues, kid. Not much of a fighter, I take it?"

Luther shakes his head and sighs. "I’m just not very good at it."

"Well they chose one hell of a first mission for you, that’s for sure. Ogres are tricky ones. We’ve got a lot of defense mechanisms.” Cam thinks for a moment. “You know what you are good at, though? You’re a good talker. Very convincing. I mean, you really had me going, with the crying and all? It was a really good ruse."

Luther bites his lip. "Um…"

"Okay, so it was for real and not a ruse. But you made the best of a bad situation! That’s also a good skill for a ruler to have. You just gotta show your family that your skills are less conventional, but still effective! Like, okay, why do you have to kill me? What’d I do?"

“You’re eating all the farmers’ cattle and scaring people."

"I thought free range meant I had free reign. Eh? Eh?” Cam pokes Luther in the ribs. Luther frowns at him. “Oh, fine, whatever. No sense of humor. You know, that’s pretty important for a king too. Yeah, all right, I’ll leave the cows alone."

"And the sheep,” Luther says sharply. “And the pigs, and chickens."

"I haven’t eaten any pigs or chickens,” Cam protests.

“Not yet. I’m being proactive."

"There you go!” Cam says, beaming. “There’s that negotiator skill! But seriously, if I can’t eat the cows and sheep I’ve got to eat something. Can you make it worth my while? 'Cause I’m not going back to squirrels."

"Well…” Luther says slowly. “What if… I hire you?"

"You… hire me?"

"Yeah. Like, as a bodyguard or something. Then I’d have to pay you, right? I could pay you in food?”

Cam is quiet for a moment. He brings Luther up closer to his face and scrutinizes him. Luther’s heart is pounding out of his chest. For a moment he thinks he’s made some horrible mistake and offended Cam and it’s all over for him. "You’re serious? Not kidding me, here? That’s your offer?”

“Y-yes? Is that… is it bad?"

"Bad? Bad? That’s the best offer I’ve ever heard! Pay me in food? HELL yes, kid! That’s what I like to hear!” The force of Cam’s enthusiasm knocks Luther over on his back. He stares at the sky for a moment. His life is so goddamn weird.

~~~~~~~~~

Luther’s father’s dragon slaying days are behind him. He’s an old man now. He has good days and bad days, but even on his best days he frequently needs help getting around. But when he sees that giant ogre enter his royal halls, he reaches for his spear. Luther eases it out of his hand.

“No, see, it’s okay. I didn’t kill him, but I stopped him terrorizing the countryside, and I kind of… hired him. As my bodyguard. This was easier, and we both benefit, see? Also, um, were you going to tell me ogres are immortal?"

"You were supposed to figure something out,” his father says. “Since you’re so damned smart."

"Well, I did figure something out. Just… maybe not what you wanted me to."

Cam waves lazily. "Hi, Yer Majesty."

"Cam,” Luther hisses. “We talked about this."

"Oh, fine, fine,” Cam grumbles, and takes a knee to bow low before the king. “I humbly pledge my service to your son,” he intones, hamming it up just a little. “Please allow me to protect him from all harms, and so on."

The king glares. His stabbing hand is itching. But he doesn’t currently have a better plan, and this’ll keep the peasants quiet for a bit. "Fine,” he spits, “But you’re taking care of him. Feeding him, walking him, cleaning up after him, whatever. No getting the servants to do it for you. He’s your responsibility now."

Cam grins at Luther. "So, speaking of feeding… when’s dinner?”

#art #writing #giant tiny #g/t #cam and luther #fairy tale au #to be more specific re: content warnings there is a beheading but he gets better so it's okay #tiny knights are very important to me as u can clearly see #there's just something about. someone who is sworn to protect others going up against a force so much larger than themselves #EDIT mobile hates readmores sorry if u get a three mile long post on yr dash :(

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clonemando · 3 years ago

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Star Wars Fun in the Sun Submission

This fic was written for @starwarsfandomfests “Summer Fun in the Sun” event. This event was really fun to participate in and I’m glad I joined in. I was given @anaisonfire to write for and chose to write some fluffy Jangobi for you with some bonding between Jango and the clones and Obi-Wan and young Boba. I hope you enjoy!

Find it on AO3 Here

The sound of the waves lapping at the sand of the beach and the feeling of warm sunlight against his bare skin had Obi-Wan almost dozing in his chair. It had been so long since he could just relax like this and soak in the beauty and sensations of a place instead of worrying about an attack but the war was finally over. A lucky break had come from Fox who had nearly faceplanted onto the council room floor in a combination of his haste to speak with them and complete exhaustion. He had overheard a conversation between Dooku and Palpatine revealing his plans and had recorded it on his helmet cam, giving the Jedi evidence against the now exposed Sith Lord. Dechipping started as soon as they located what it was Palpatine was talking about and within the month, the head had been cut off the snake. Without Palpatine’s funding, a lot of previously Separatist worlds returned to the Republic begging for another chance. Dooku was backed into a corner and he knew it, so he had willingly turned himself into the Jedi council, giving up information on Grievous that led to his capture and the droid army’s shutdown. Things still weren’t perfect. The flaws of the Republic were more obvious than ever. The corruption ran deeper than before. The Clones still didn’t have the rights they deserved.

“What has you frowning like that, cyare? We’re supposed to be on vacation.” Jango’s voice interrupted the downward turn his thoughts had taken and his lips turned up in a warm smile.

“Just thinking about the mess we are not supposed to be thinking about while here. The usual.” He said and Jango snorted when Obi-Wan looked over to soak in the sight of him. Despite seeing his face repeated a million times in the war, none looked quite as handsome as Jango’s own scarred appearance to him.

“That’s fair enough. I keep worrying about Boba.” Jango admitted looking out over where the 212th and 501st were all playing volleyball or splashing in the water or laying in chairs like Jango and Obi-Wan just soaking in the sun. Obi-Wan sighed. Boba was another issue they would have to figure out a solution to. Well, not Boba himself, but how to integrate him into the rest of the family.

“Where is he now?” Obi-Wan asked when he didn’t see the boy in question.

“Inside the hotel room moping. I left him some books to read that I thought he might like so hopefully he’s curled up with one of those at least. I wish I knew how to make it better. I suppose just time with the mind healers for all of us. Watching who he thought was me get their head cut off is not the sort of trauma that goes away in a few months.” Jango murmured rubbing his face and Obi-Wan reached out to squeeze his hand.

“I have to admit it was a big shock to all of us when Dooku revealed you were alive and that the person Mace killed had been one of the clones he had kept personally for purposes such as that. I’m just glad that you survived and that Boba had been able to be located and reunited with you.” He said seriously. Jango nodded.

“If Aurra weren’t already dead I’d kill her again for poisoning him to think I’d want him risking his life that way. I just want him happy and healthy.” He said, squeezing Obi-Wan’s hand back. The relationship that had somehow started between them, since Jango was recovered from where he had been imprisoned and had started helping fight for the clones and clean up the mess that he helped make, was the biggest surprise of all. Obi-Wan had always assumed that Jango was a cold heartless person to have made all the clones and treated them so indifferently, however he had realized that the opposite was in fact true. Jango cared greatly for the clones but he had been just as much a prisoner in Palpatine and Dooku’s schemes as they had and he had distanced himself to protect them from being targeted due to Dooku thinking he might use them against him. Finding out Jango had also been implanted with a rudimentary version of the chip also explained a few things and allowed him to be pardoned for the attempted hit on Padme. Of course, a lot of it was still on Jango’s shoulders and he was doing all he could to rectify his actions. Somehow in all the working together to help the clones, Obi-Wan and Jango had become close enough to the point that even Boba and Anakin had been calling them a couple behind their backs. Now they really were.

“Vacations don’t work well when we just lay around and let ourselves worry about things. How about we go join in on the death ball game the boys are playing instead?” He offered and Jango chuckled, kissing his cheek.

“That sounds like a great idea. Just don’t complain when my team crushes you.” He said getting up and waving over at Cody.

“Wait a minute! Cody is my commander! He’s going to be on my team!” Obi-Wan quickly hopped up to follow and get integrated into the teams. Obi-Wan ended up on Rex’s team while Jango had cockily gained Cody’s choice, Cody giving Obi-Wan a fake-apologetic smirk.

“You can’t even hold onto your lightsaber and you expect me to think you can keep a ball?” He teased with a lot of clones’ ‘ooo’s surrounding them.

“Oh it’s on now, my dear, you’ve made a grave mistake.” Obi-Wan had said, moving to huddle with his team. In the end, due to a non-Force use rule, the teams were evenly matched and the game never really got far in either team’s favor. They were all just having fun wrestling a ball from each other and trying to get it to the opposite team’s goal. Eventually, they all decided to split the difference and go change in Anakin’s room so he had to deal with all the sand instead of the losing team’s when they broke for lunch.

Jango managed to convince Boba to come out and join them for the meal and Obi-Wan smiled as the boy enthusiastically told his father about something he had been reading about snails. Seeing the difference in the way he acted when he had thought he lost his father compared to now was a shock. With Jango’s love and support, it was like looking at two different people. Although, the older bitter Boba was still in there and came out around the clones as shown when Cody sat beside Obi-Wan and started to chat causing Boba to quiet and withdraw.

“Can I go to the tide pools and look for the snails once we’re finished here, buir?” Boba asked and Jango nodded.

“Of course. Just be careful.” He agreed and Obi-Wan perked up at the perfect opportunity to try to bond a little with the boy.

“If you don’t mind, I’d love to come with you Boba. There are lots of little creatures there I’d like to see. Plus those bioluminescent snails sound really fascinating.” He said making sure to show he was listening to what Boba was saying by repeating some back.

“I guess it wouldn’t be bad to have you along. You can probably use your Force thingy to find them more easily.” Boba agreed after a moment of thought and Obi didn’t bother correcting him that the Force didn’t work that way. They quickly finished up the last of their meal and Boba led Obi-Wan towards the rocky area where the tide pools resided. Jango had declined in joining them with a knowing look at his Jedi and made an excuse of needing to call and check in on some work.

“Do you like ocean animals a lot, Boba?” He asked, trying to start a conversation to which the boy shrugged.

“I like all animals. There are so many planets with so many different ways for them to evolve and so many little differences even in species that are mostly the same. It’s cool to see what new things I can find out on each planet my buir and I visit. He used to make it a game we’d play together.” He admitted kicking a rock to splash into one of the little pools of water.

“Jango loves you a lot. You know that him helping the other clones doesn’t change his feelings about you, right?” Obi-Wan asked him and Boba grunted.

“I didn’t invite you to have you try to pick around in my brain. Now get to using your Jetii magics to find me some glowing snails or go back to making dopey looks at my dad and let me do my thing.” He grumbled and Obi-Wan rolled his eyes but did his best to feel around them to try to see if he could connect to any of the animals and figure out where the snails could be if they were even there at all.

While sensing the creature’s minds he felt them all diving deeper from what he figured was fear of the two humans encroaching on their homes however suddenly there was a faint rumbling and he gasped when Boba went barreling right into his stomach knocking him back into one of the ponds just in time to keep him from falling into a hole that opened up under where his feet had been.

Boba groaned as they both picked themselves up, equally soaked. “Dang it. Buir specifically told me not to fall in, now he’s going to laugh at me,” he whined.

“Thank you. I’m not even sure what just happened.” Obi-Wan confessed glad he had been in beachwear already, unlike Boba who was trying to wring out his t-shirt without removing it now.

“The rocks here aren’t round and solid like on most beaches. They’re flat and shift around with the tides as well like plates. It was in the book. The change in temperature at different points in the day causes the water currents to shift and then they move. I saw the fish diving and the rock around it start to move. I might not fully like you but my dad does, so letting you get trapped in a hole and drown seemed like the wrong move.” Boba said, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his shorts awkwardly.

“Well, I appreciate it nonetheless. It seems your extra reading saved my life.” He said with a chuckle, stroking his beard out of habit. “It would have been a shame to live through a whole war only to die to a little water and rock.” He said and Boba snorted but relaxed.

“The great Jedi General Obi-Wan Kenobi done-in by a change in tide while on vacation does sound like a great holonet headline.” He teased and they both continued their search for sea snails a little more carefully, eventually catching a few in a bucket to bring back and show Jango and the clones. Things weren’t perfect, but as Obi-Wan curled close to Jango’s warm chest that night, he found he was okay with that.

#Star wars summer fun in the sun #Star Wars #Jangobi #Jango Fett #Obi-Wan #Young Boba Fett #Marshal Commander Cody #The Clone Wars #Fandom Event #Fanfic #Fluff #my writing

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limelocked · 4 years ago

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Quackity’s been a villain since at least Nov 17th

Hey ho so I was looking for a clip about Ghostbur funnily enough and I found some funky fresh things you see that validates a theory I’ve had since before Tommys exile and well when I told some non-MAG people back then they didn’t believe me so I suppose this might be the time to take it up again.

cough

Quackity has been a villain since the second either schlatt died or tubbo took presidency and the way he’s been manipulatin the cabinet is really fascinatin to me because this man really has gone above and beyond

It’s the 17th of november and tubbo is streaming the great rebuildin, makin the van and stuff, mostly its a chill stream but even before schlatts funeral and the “start” of the possible possession arc we see him advocate for violence and military action, something that tubbo is very vocally against as president so his hostilities are shot down. He continues trying to inspire violence in tubbo but forgetting that tubbos a smart kid so tubbo keeps shooting him down. This, however, continues for days if not weeks.

Once he realizes this he starts ingratiating himself to tubbo, getting closer to the president and to my (admittedly poor) memory questioning the the legitimacy of the cabinet members notably by challenging tommys place as the vice president together with karl at the time when karl was instated as the vice vice president of new l’manburg. (Other instances i remember but wont bring up due to previously mentioned memory issues is quackity trying to demote fundy and privately to karl and fundy questioning if tubbo is right for presidency)

This is all good and sus until you see mexican lmanburg come into existence. Quackity brands mexican lmanburg to tubbo as a military extension of lmanburg that is still its own independent governmental entity separate from lmanburg. He tells tubbo its in an advantageous place for battle while looming over the stilt city. Quackitys VP is george to mirror SWAG2020, george who quackity up til now has hated for causing all the conflict of the electing arc. Quackity very seriously suggests tearing down fundys house for the sake of mexican lmanburgs interests. Quackity, unsurprisingly, rallies behind tommy to fight dream and then turn a final step to fracture the cabinet into factions. He uses schlatt against tubbo when he chooses to exile tommy, a baseless comparison as many posts on here has already talked about, but because Quackity was the VP of the administration this still packs a personal punch.

that last one is important as it inspires tubbo to follow big q. The butcher army was quackitys idea and tubbo says on the way to kidnap techno that he’s doing this to appease him, to set the score between the him and quackity even, even though quackity said he would follow and respect any choice tubbo made about the exile

this also doesnt mention the plot against king eret where karl lost a canon life, it has some show of his character but it doesnt matter too much here.

The thing that inspired this post thought is one single line that Quackity said before fighting Techno. He says; “I’m building a country here”

“Lime” you start and I instantly stop you because Techno isn’t threatenin El Rapids, he’s threatenin New L’Manburg.

And the first person pronoun there Quackity... well I’ll just say that I’ve been expectin a coup for at least 17 days.

#mcyt #dreamsmp #quackity #long post

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shadowstalker732 · 3 years ago

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ALRIGHT LETS GIVE THIS POSTING THING A GO

MY REVAN TIME (one of them at least)

Also spoiler warning a guess for a game over a decade old? (Am I meant to say spoiler warning? Who knows not me)

(Please don’t yell at me about stats I do what I want)

Anyway first playthrough where I don’t stop and hard restart Tarris or Dantooine 13 times because choice reasons and me forgetting that stealth is useless and just letting the game auto level for me (learnt that the hard way), I’ve basically done Tatooine but I haven’t beaten the dragon yet cos I wanted to bugger off to another planet first and chose Kashyyyk. And I’m down in the shadow lands now (do not worry Zaalbar I WILL GET YOU BACK) and yeah that’s where I’m at.

ANYWAY, Shay or Shar Stalker (because the game won’t let me do non-binary) is a light side Revan. Good of heart dumb of ass and yet will still rob you dry if you place bets on a strategy game against them. Height wise around the 1.6m mark (5′3″ for the Americans). Prefers the double lightsaber look (currently got a short green one and a normal blue one for amnesia version). Not a flirt but definitely had something going on with my Exile in the past but that ended in the Mando war at some point… teenagers in war don’t usually do well mentally wise.. back story and post events of Kotor under the cut (also warning it’s long, like super long, and goes into their future story? As well)

SO BACKSTORY,

Shar got some Mando blood floating in their veins from some ancestor and that causes them to go full buir sometimes hence why Mission, Zaalbar, HK-47, T3-M4 and Juhani get bed time stores aboard the Ebon Hawk and chocolate space milk whenever they stop (Rev gets some too because who doesn’t love some good old Choccy milk), droid duo get cleaned basically daily while Bastila gets the bird for even thinking that this is a waste of time and resources.

Wait I said backstory… TEMPLE LIFE!

Rascal trio with Exile and Alek at their heels. All three, good of heart dumb of ass. Shar was a prodigy and excelled in basically all Jedi subjects at the time, was pretty popular with most people and just a nice person who didn’t stand for bullshit. Got into a few “heated” (honestly that’s an understatement) arguments with council members about how some things in the galaxy were handled but mostly had a positive response from people. At this time their main saber was purple and their off hand a short cyan. Joined the Republic in the Mandalorian wars a few months before their 17′th birthday. Didn’t not return to the Temple once after leaving for war.

The War

(I should mention I get most of my knowledge from wiki skims (not deep reads) and other Tumblr posts so if it’s off canon… it’s my story and Star Wars is my sand box so I MAKE THE RULES HERE BABY!)

After many battles and the relationship between the battle trio growing stronger with time it was also weakening. At one point Shar and Exile had a romantic relationship going but only kept that going for a few months, they both decided that this was not the time to be doing this and if they both survived would actually give the lovers thing a shot (doesn’t happen). Throughout the war all three realise that they must make sacrifices to stop the war, the old saying “sacrifice one to save the many” is said often between the three at first before it becomes second nature. During one of the battles Shar’s cyan lightsaber is completely destroyed including the crystal being completely shattered. After taking the mantle of the Revanchist only uses the name Revan and never removes the helmet unless it’s only the trio and only then will respond to their old names. All three are slipping mentally in this war but have all managed to hold onto the Light side by trusting each other. After the mass shadow generator event Revan looses all contact with Exile (force and otherwise) and assumes death, despite it being Revan’s own order it’s a major pushing point towards the dark.

The End of the War

Revan faces off against Mandalore the Ultimate and slays him, in his dying breathe speaks of the Sith Empire growing in the Unknown Regions and how this war wasn’t only about giving the Mandalorian’s a good fight but also to weaken the republic for Ultimates Empire allies. Not many Mandalorians knew of the Sith truth behind the war and just followed their Mandalor’s word that this war would bring them the honour of a good fight, and it did in a way. After Revan learns of the empire growing hidden amongst uncharted routes, knew that the council would never believe them and so took matters into their own hands. Taking a fleet and insisting it was to chase down the last of the Mandalorian high command, Revan left for the unknown regions.

The Unknown

Yeah everything went to shit. Rev and Alek get captured and Sith tortured and kind probed by old man Sith Emperor but in that time Revan gains acute knowledge via reverse mind prob, of how the Sith empire is running, where resources are coming from and key weak points. During this time Alek falls completely and Revan fains it for now. Torture continues for a good while until Revan makes the choice that they have been making all through out the war “sacrifice one to save the many”… Revan embraces the dark side and makes a plan, a plan to empower the known galaxy enough to destroy the “true” Sith empire by uniting it as their own Sith empire. Revan knows light will always rise to face the dark and that the light side is strong, someone will rise to take them down after the “true” Sith empire is defeated and only in death will Revan have fulfilled their promise to the unknown Mandalorian and finally be able to be one with the force. Revan embraces the dark fast and is soon sent off by the Sith emperor who thinks Revan is under his control to take control of the star forge and start building the Sith army in the known galaxy, Revan assumes command with now Malek as their right hand.

Beginning of Darth Revan

Basically what is described in the first Kotor game, Darth Duo go find star maps, get to forge, start fucking up the galaxy yadeyadeya. Malek pulls a sick move and fucks up Revan’s plan to stop the Sith Emperor and boom Amnesia time baby. Oh also during Sith times used a red and their old purple lightsaber but when they got captured by Bastila both lightsaber’s goy yoinked and locked up on Coruscant for simple reasons.

No Memory Time Baby

Council is smart as fuck and call them Shay Stalker AKA their old name to see if that will reawaken light memories or thoughts in Revan and basically try and nudge amnesia Rev to stay lightside cos they don’t want to see their lost padawan fall back to the dark, (Jedi are a complicated subject), also ONLY SHAY no mention of their other name Shar at all! So that will cause problems later for poor Rev when they start remembering things :), basically the game from here on. Memories of a calm life on a farming planet before joining the military, lost both their siblings (AKA Alek and Exile) while away on service. Joined to stop the Sith from taking any more innocent lives. Throughout the game Shay try’s to help as many people as they can and choose the option that will benefit good and innocent people, constantly says fuck to corporations and nasty people, is not afraid to kill a bitch. As I haven’t completed the game fully (but I am planing a lightside finish and I’m not exactly sure when the “I am Revan” bit comes in I’m gonna leave this as it is. Oh and blue main saber and a short green saber with a crystal they managed to purify (AKA was red but returned to its natural colour through meditation and force cleansing, also helped by Bastila)

Memories

Like I said I haven’t finished the game yet BUT after the whole “oh fuck oh stars IM REVAN?????” Lots of shit starts to make sense and the force “spell” (I’m gonna call it spell) that repressed Revan’s memories had already begun to weaken somewhat before this point but this kinda opens the flood gates but not too far just enough for it to not make any sense at all. Team is there for Rev and the game finishes lightside. (Also I know I said this rev not gonna romance but this is post game stuff now and I just don’t wanna romance Bastila in game so yeah) ANYWAY, Revan and Bastila build a healthy relationship together and Revan starts to regain a lot of memories that their friends help them through. Revan remembers why they took the name Revan and actually goes to Coruscant to the high council to explain why they put on the helmet in the first place and the Council adheres to Revan’s request and returns the original helmet. The Star forged one stays in storage for now. Revan also requests their old armour and lightsabers to help regain memories as to why they fell, the council is hesitant at this request and only allows Revan to meditate with their old things at the main temple with a council member present. Over one or two years a lot comes back but there is still a few key dates, names, moments and details missing. Oh and Revan uses force powers to make Bastila preggers. IF BOBA FETT CAN SURVIVE A SARLAC AND PALPATINE CAN EXIST IN THE SEQUELS. REVAN CAN PULL FORCE BULLSHIT TOO!

The Unknown part 2: Electric boogaloo

Revan finally remembers what made them go dark and realises they fucked up their own plans pretty bad and the Republic IS WORSE OFF THAN HOW IT STARTED COS OPPS REVAN ACCIDENTALLY KILLED A SHIT TON OF FORCE USERS LIGHT AND DARK SO yeah. Bastila was holding the brain cell of the force bond in this moment and Revan decides the best course of action is to go face the Emperor alone… fucking brilliant Revan how the fuck did you win the Mandalorian wars again my good sir? Revan tells Bastila that they (Rev) has been assigned a mission to infiltrate the remanence of Revan’s old Sith Empire and basically destroy it from within and that this mission is basically so hush hush that Bastila isn’t meant to know but Revan thought it only fair to say that they would be gone for potentially a long time for this mission and Bastila, unaware that this would be the last time she saw them, accepted this goodbye and hoped they would return before their baby was born. But Revan has always been a good lier… even to themselves. Without anymore fuss they left the Known Galaxy leaving all their friends and family behind never to be seen again to face off against the bitch that started it all. (I haven’t read the novels or played the SWTOR game and never plan to do either so again I say this is wiki knowledge that I’m doing what ever I please with that knowledge because Star Wars is a sand pit and I’m the kindy kid that’s decided to sit and play with it today)

Mmmmm Watcha SaaaaaaaAy

Revan gets their ass handed to them and imprisoned for three hundred years and tortured and mind probed AGAIN. Also cut off their connections to any other force user to ensure old dude couldn’t get to them as well. Absolutely not having a good time here. After the 300 years of PAIN the force within Revan gets so fucked up that their physicality splits into two entirely separate beings, Dark Revan and Light Revan. When this happens the prison breaks and Light Revan makes their escape and gets out barely alive while Dark Revan hangs back and swears allegiance to Sith Empire and starts plotting to overthrow old dude cos Sith. Light Revan makes it back to the council and they heal them and have a very hard time believing they are Revan until Revan perfectly describes a gift they gave Bastila before they left that now a descendent of Revan now owns. The council doesn’t understand how Revan split into two entire different beings but accept “the force acts in mysterious ways at times”. Revan is FINALLY given knighthood and helps prepare the republic for the Sith Empire that hasn’t attacked yet but definitely will soon. And this is where Tarre comes in.

Mando Time Yeah!

My Tarre will get his own beefy post (def not as big as this one) maybe tomorrow or the next day so for now it’s just what Tarre does and means to Revan. ANYWHO, Tarre becomes Light Revan’s padawan. (I should mention that Light Revan despite being called Light Revan is leaning towards a grey area within the force but isn’t down right evil like dark Revan is. Dark Revan is killing puppies of an endangered species cos their bored evil). Tarre is Revan’s padawan and becomes a knight. Revan enjoys teaching Tarre about the force and understanding how Tarre was brought up a Mandalorian and with the peace between Jedi and Mandalorian’s at this point was welcomed into the Jedi temple later than most. Revan raises Tarre like he is their own son/little brother and they form an extremely powerful force bond because of it. I’ll go in depth on Tarre’s post but Tarre still gets Mando training for 4 months of the year but the jedi training is the rest of the year. Revan joins Tarre when he return to Mandalore to continue his Mando training and learns more about Mandalorian history and culture while there. While on Mandanlore Light Revan truely feels relaxed for once despite random Mando’s sometimes jumping out and challenging them to fights because apparently Revan is now a ghost story and a feared mighty warrior legend and when anyone finds out that Revan is “alive” immediately tries to prove that they are stronger than Revan (which they are not). A few years after Tarre is knighted the war with the True Sith Empire begins.

I don’t know what to call this bit sooooo UWU

Battles, fights, old shit, it’s a war. Revan proves to be supper fucking useful in leadership but doesn’t do as much “sacrifice one to save the many” moves anymore. Revan keeps predicting what the Sith are gonna do an THATS cos Dark Revan is leading the, and Revan knows Revan best but not the reverse. Light Revan knows how Dark Revan will act but Dark Revan doesn’t know how Light Revan will act since Light Revan technically includes Shay/Shar, Mandalorian War Revan, Amnesiac Shay, and post Amnesia. While Dark Revan is only really Darth Revan and post Amnesia so Light Revan technically outweighs Dark Revan. I’ve probably butchered that explanation or done it too late but that’s how it’s gonna be cos it’s midnight and I wanna finish this and post it today. ANYWAY, final battle between the Revan’s. They have a massive duel on the battle field and eventually Light Revan strikes Dark Revan down but also receives some pretty nasty injuries. Light Revan understands the need to be whole again and as Dark Revan “dies” reunites with that half of the force and Revan returns but Revan is so done, so fucking done with living and trying and they had a good run and now they have what was Dark Revan’s and Light Revan’s injuries all on one body and sure if Rev really tried they could probably suck the life force out of some Sith warriors to keep themselves alive but… they just don’t want to. Eventually Tarre finds the fallen Revan reunited at last and stays by their side as Revan finally lets go and becomes one with the force. After the battle Tarre brings Revan’s body back to the Temple to be burnt as Revan had requested but their armour, lightsabers, and other possessions would be taken to a place only Tarre knew of to be sealed away until a far descendent of Revan’s comes along to claim them as their own. The war isn’t over and Revan’s passing only fuels Tarre further into defeating the Sith empire that the republic eventually does after 20 years of war.

Conclusion

And that’s the overall story of this Revan, I know very long, very deep, wtf this is your second post after a what? 1 year break? Actually let me check… yeah nope about a year has passed since my Crash post. If you have made it this far thanks for reading my first ever “decent” post about something I’ve been developing for a while now in bits and pieces. Sorry it was so long but then again I did miss a lot of shit. If you want to interact and ask more questions about this Revan go ahead my ask box is open (don’t be weird tho and just cos I post long doesn’t mean you have to ask long unless it’s legit). I’ll try and get the Tarre post out tomorrow around this time too or earlier depends. Thanks again for taking the time to read my word vomit. Also sorry if there are any spelling mistakes I have missed.

Have a good one!

#Shadow’s OC’s #Revan #Kotor #Zaalbar #Mission Vao #HK-47 #T3-M4 #Juhani #Balista Shan #long post #star wars #star wars: knights of the old republic #darth revan #darth malek #tarre vizsla

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yanderecandystore · 4 years ago

Note

Rip Tumblr D-do you have any dragon ocs that might kidnap their s/o? Also I know that this is a stupid question but can I call myself Cold anon? ;-;

Hello 🍨 Cold ❄️!! I'm really glad you sent me this request!

The current app that I use for writing is bugging out a lot, so I'm sorry if there are many grammar errors and mistakes here and there.

And uh... Cold? I think I fucked up your ask? I think I got a little too excited and went in a different direction?? If you don't like it I understand, I could always do another one 😳😋

TW/Tags: Guess who is being an emotional ball once again?? Me! Yey! Send help! // look, I'm sorry but, low-key? This is edginess overload lol (medieval bitch times, which by that I mean: dark times with terrible people in it) // deaths // abuse of power // Reader said: eat the rich // non-binary reader just because // cursing // slight plot twist? But, like, bad plot twist // soft dragon boi

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

You curious little thing - [Yandere!Dragon x Reader - Short Fanfiction]:

" Deep in the forest, up in the mountains, legend says that a dragon sleeps deep within the caves. And as the old story goes, gold awaits inside his domain, but only those courageous enough to enter the deep cave and defeat the dragon, would be able to take the creature's treasure.

Many have persuaded the quest of defeating said dragon, yet no one ever came back to tell the story.

And while you sit at the comfort of your small cottage reading about the old tales of the dragon's cave, you can't help but consider the story to be just that, a story. A piece of fiction made to scare the local children away from the mountains, or to enchant those that were easily invested into these types of stories.

It seems like you're one of those that were fascinated by the old tales. Regardless of if you find it true or not. The old tales still hold a mysterious charm that manages to keep you intrigued no matter what age you re-read them.

Tales of the forest spirits protecting their land with mischievous wit, tales of monsters that crawled out of your bed to cause nightmares on the simple minded, tales of mighty dragons who could easily rule the world if they so pleased to.

Yet they didn't. Either because they didn't want to, or maybe they really didn't exist. Who knows, right [Y/N]? Not that you, a simple commoner, would know any better.

Although, from the tales you read, isn't always the common folk the ones to first encounter these things?

It always ends bad, but still.

A commoner would be the first one to be affected by the wrath of such supernatural creatures.

However, as stated before, there is no way of knowing if such a thing is real or not, right? It's been eons since the last time someone even mentioned a dragon's presence in your kingdom, and it's been centuries that the concepts of dragons had fallen into the mythological category.

There hasn't been a single person to mention the beast's names in years. There was no visible way of them being remotely real, right? That sounded absurd.

But of course, like all tales are written, your's seem to have reached the beginning of your own personal adventure when the king mentioned the need of soldiers willing to face the beast inside the cave, who was presumably hibernating throughout this whole time.

And of course, the public had only laughed at this sort of news. You see, your king's authority over the entire land has been dangling by a thin thread. The taxes, the frauds, the imminent wars threatening to occur at any second now, has helped a small portion of people to start questioning if not downright rebelling against him and his reign of terror.

The revolution was rising slowly, yet something needed to push it forward, the straw that broke the camel's back.

"What could it be?" You might be wondering.

How about kidnapping and force recruitment with the help of blackmailing? Specifically targeting the poorest people in the kingdom and taking their family members hostage if they don't comply?

Sounds so evil that you may think it's bullshit right? So inhumane, that the villain of this story might as well be your crazy king, right?

Oh, [Y/N]. You're absolutely right, yet a little bit wrong considering that even if such an evil act sounds absurd, it's absolutely real. It's part of your reality now.

And even if your king is a vile creature of pure hatred and deserves to be fed to the rats, by being a terrible ruler, husband, and father- You were soon about to learn that there are worse, more powerful forces that can easily overpower the insanity of that sad, pathetic evil man.

To your dismay, your family was one of the chosen ones to suffer from this. Because of poverty, you and your father lived in the outskirts of the kingdom. It was perfect for the king and his soldiers, as you and your father lived distant from the main town, if any of you two ever die on the process of going into the beast's cave, or disobey the king's orders, no one would notice if you two were suddenly wiped from the face of the Earth.

And of course, holding hostage just one person was easier than multiple family members. Although your king was absolutely insane if not completely psychotic, you could at least understand how he moved his pieces in this massive game of chess.

I mean, yes, you understand his reasoning. Still doesn't mean he is right.

Soldiers didn't wait too long to show up and try to force your father to go with them. But you didn't take none of that, you wouldn't let your dying father be taken by them.

You screamed, you shout, you let venom spill out of your mouth by each profanity you threw at the soldiers and the king they claimed to serve. It didn't take long before the general noticed that you were one of the rascals forming a rebellion. Well, you didn't really need to be officially part of the revolution, just disagreeing was enough to make the general decide to take you instead of your old father.

You can still remember how he was trying to scream his lungs out, to stop the soldiers somehow.

This was it, right? The day, for you and possibly all these other commoners to die in the name of an asshole. How honoring.

Among you and other miserably unlucky individuals, there were all kinds of different people. From innocent, to criminals. From young to old, from poor to… Well, mildly not as poor. Nobles would never be subjected to this, you know that. All of these individuals were carried away by a carriage. All crammed into one little vehicle, away from the public sight.

After being far enough from the town and now deep within the forest, the soldiers commanded all of you to get out of the carriage as now you'll begin to walk straight to the mountain while carrying… Gold?

"- It's a gift from the king. Survive long enough, and you'll be able to take it with you." The general said, his tone being condescending as ever.

You could…. Technically run away, right now. They haven't really put any restrains in any of you-

"- Over there!" A soldier alerted the general, who looked little surprised by seeing two of your group running away with the gold in hands.

Without hesitation, or even a slight hint of empathy, the general shot both with his crossbow. Their bodies fall flat in the forest ground, with all that gold and jewelry accompanying them. All that gold being wasted and left behind, just like the bodies of the people carrying them.

You felt sick, the need to vomit was surfacing through your stomach. This- This is terrible!? This is so cruel! How can they continue to walk like nothing happened??

God, how did a once prospering kingdom has now fallen in such a low pit?

As you can imagine, the walk was torturous and it felt like it was going forever. Of course, a lot of questions were emerging about the strange situation.

One: how did the king know and was certain that the myth of the dragon was real and that the dragon was awake?

Two: why didn't he call his own army to attend to such issues instead of the common folk being forced to go with his wishes?

Actually, now that you think about it, why are there so few skilled, trained soldiers taking a bunch of people to a cave unprepared?

Carrying a bunch of gold for fucks sake, this stuff is heavy!

If it was truly a gift from the king to your group, then why were you obligated to carry it all the way to the cave? Sounds unreasonable and if anything, absolutely ridiculous. It would only slow your group down, and for what?!

Sounds like a trap to be…. Honest. Wait a minute-

"- Shit!" You whisper to yourself at the sudden realization that you're fucked, which unfortunately, caused a soldier that was near you to hear it.

"- Nothing sir, I just stabbed my foot in a rock." You weren't lying though. This whole walk bullshit your doing has destroyed your low quality sandals, and now you could basically feel the ground stabbing you every time you stept.

The soldier just grunted at you, and as much as you wished to take his sword and shove it up his bum, you couldn't help but go back to your original train of thought before you got interrupted.

You were going straight to death right? You're not supposed to fight a dragon, but rather serve as an offering?? What?!

You can't even speak or alert your fellow companions in any way. The last three people that have spoken without being directed to, were shot in the head.

The realization has sadly come in too late for you to make any plans now, as you forward as your group walk upwards, following the mountain's trail, you find yourself facing not only the entrance to a presumably dangerous cave infested with predators, but also the gates to your inevitable death.

You would now have to think of how to escape the soldiers and their arrows, or how to possibly make your death less painful. Being eaten by a dragon doesn't sound really fun.

When entering the cave you're met with more-

"- Are you fucking kidding me?!" Someone screamed, while easily accepting their death.

You couldn't help but agree with the person. While entering the cave, you're met with a great ravine, going in a spiral fashion deeper into the cave.

In other words, you have not only walked all the way up to a fucking mountain, but you would now need to get down into a creepy cave.

You almost considered asking for some eternal peace before remembering that your father's life was still in line. You just… Don't want to go away like this, you don't want your father to go like this.

And once again your group, that was now a lot shorter due to the amount of deaths along the way, was now following the general once again. Only this time, the soldiers were behind all of you, probably to guarantee no one ran away. Too late for that now anyway, so why even bother?

You didn't realize how you were on the very front of everyone, side by side with the man that was leading you to your doom.

You felt his eyes fall into your form a couple of times, but he never really turned his face to look at you. After a long silence of just a bunch of miserable people stepping closer to a terrible plan that was not well thought-out, he said:

"- You know it already. Right?" His voice was rough and still held the nonchalant tone that was written all over his face. You doubt this man could have ever smiled once in his life.

You almost choked with your own breathing, the nerve of this man! You couldn't help but let out the only thing you have wanted to say this whole time:

"- I hate you." You say as your eyes start to become a little watery. The feeling of desperation was eating you up ever since you entered the carriage, but only now you felt how bad the teeth of despair hurt.

"- I know kid. Me too." He responded, his tone never changed, even while saying that.

You guess he didn't really appreciate his job as much as you thought he did. Yet, you couldn't find in your heart to pity the man, as he was complicit in all of this mess. But I guess, you do hope for this man to find some sort of redemption, either presently or in his after life.

You still think he did a lot of bad things of course, his crimes are probably never gonna be forgiven. But just because of that, it didn't mean he couldn't start to do some good actions now, not for the sake of finding inner forgiveness, but for the sake of others. For the sake of the innocent people being not only met with unfair treatment, but also being ruled by a psychotic tyrant who is a complete imbecile. No wonder the queen and his son were missing for so long, you would probably have run away if you were them too.

When finally coming down, with your feet now hurting like a bitch, you can find some time for yourself to appreciate the beauty of this place.

You know, before you lose your head? To a freaking dragon??

Honestly, you at least hope that the stories you read were true, because holy fuck- Imagine how exhausted your body is from walking for what it feels like an eternity, holding jewelry made with gold, only to find an empty cave?

Then you would be able to go feral kill one or two soldiers before getting your ass beaten. As you don't have enough reason to just do that right now, right?

You expected to be met with disappointment, but what you truly saw while finally getting into the dragon's territory, you were able to not only feel enchanted by the magnitude of these treasure places, but also forget the danger of the situation, as you look around and remember the tales you read.

This is so much better than what you have imagined it to be like. It's… Mesmerising! It 's beautiful! The underground pond, the glowing crystals, the pile of gold, the stolen statues of the great warriors of your kingdom, golden weapons all scattered across the floor, the white feathered looking dragon staring down at you from his nest, that little tea set that is really cute and fragile yet it probably cost way more than your house, your clothes, and all of your furniture all together.

Oh no wait-

"- We came with what you asked for, Artemio." Said the general fast walking his way to be in between you and the beast.

To say you were freaking out would be an understatement. You knew dragons were huge, but you didn't expect it to be so… Huge! You know??

Oh my God, you're dead-

You looked around to see only you, your group of commoners ready to be probably eaten, and the general. And while looking for the soldiers, you noticed them trying to close the opening with a man built gate, created to keep the beast.

But obviously, that gate looks absolutely ridiculous, there is no way this guy couldn't destroy it by simply slapping it. It's quite laughable, yet…

You feel this is not just a coincidence or a bad made joke. You have a feeling they know the gate is essentially useless. It was really old, so, clearly this has been going on from quite some time.

Has… Has your kingdom been doing this for centuries?? Bringing offerings to please the dragon and beg it to sleep for more centuries to come?

"- This is absolute bullshit!" You screamed, not noticing how your heart was racing and your breathing had started to become frantic. You were panicking while coming to terms with the fact that your whole world was collapsing in front of your eyes. Your scream clearly surprised your fellow companions, yet it didn't surprise the dragon or the general.

The dragon had, well, a dragon face, so you have no idea what it was thinking, and the general was still with the same non-expressive face since the beginning of this stupid trip!

"- What?! You have nothing to say?? You brought us here to die, at least say something, you coward!" You were fuming with rage. How can a person like this be so annoying even when he is not saying anything.

He looks at you with an understanding expression, yet you don't think about what it could mean as you reach to one of the many golden weapons spread around across the floor. They were heavy and quite frankly completely useless, yet you still hold into that golden sword like your life depended on it.

And it did, actually.

Have you gone insane or just completely blind with rage and the instinct of survival? You're not sure just yet, but you'll lose your last bit of sanity to stand your ground.

You aren't going down without a fight.

"- Come at me, you big bird!" You yelled, looking kinda epic and kinda goofy at the same time. You probably shouldn't insult a dragon who hasn't decided who he'll first, it may change his appetite.

Before the general could interfere with your foolish behavior, the one and only had spoken:

"- Where exactly is what we had agreed on?" Like in true entitled brat fashion, Artemio asked the general while putting his head in his pawn.

"- We had to eliminate a couple of the troublemakers. In the end some of the gold was left behind in the progress-"

"- No, I mean, where truly is what I asked for? The jewelry is quite frankly ugly, the gold coins don't matter as I already have plenty, and none of these humans look really edible. Or well… Appetising." You could swear a pouty face was appearing in Artemio's face, yet only one thing had taken your attention. That's the reason why they needed so many disposable people? Oh… Wait a minute, did the dragon just call everyone here too ugly to eat?

"- If you can't compromise with your promises, then I think we'll have to change the deal-" Artemio started getting up from his nest, stretching out like a cat.

"- Oh, please no, can't you just-" The general panicked, thinking that the dragon would destroy the village.

"- I want that one." Artemio said. Pointing at you.

"- What?" You looked behind you just in case you were in the way of someone else. No, you weren't.

"- Uhn… What?" Oh look, even the general was confused as you, and well, the entire cast of people that were thrown in this hell hole.

"- Yes, that one holding the spear."

"- Just… That one, or-"

"- Just that one. And I won't get out of the cave for at least a century, I promise!" He sounds and acts like both a child and a cat, preparing himself to pounce on its prey any moment now.

"- ….. Okay then, fair enough. It's your problem now kid." He said, making a motion for all the other captives to follow him. Which they gladly did, because, you know, they aren't the protagonist of the story.

"- What?! You can't leave me here, you bastard!!" You screamed, although subconsciously you already knew his answer.

"- I think I'm just doing that!" He screamed from the other side of the cave, fuckz they really didn't waste no time at all, did they?

Sigh, who are you kidding? If you were one of them, you would have ran away as fast as you could. At least some gave you sympathetic looks before going back to their "freedom".

You heard the heavy gate closing. Well, shit. It's you and him now.

You tried going back into your original threatening stance, but before you could, you saw a glimpse of Artemio coming in at full speed, taking no time to jump at you. This is it [Y/N], send your last prayers to your father and your old life before-

Before he starts licking you... like a dog? What?

He pauses and you tense up, looking up and seeing a dragon powerful enough to destroy villages, looking at you like a precious little gift.

Artemio picks you up and hugs you in an almost bone breaking hug. Confused and frustrated with how the situation was going, you asked:

"- A-Aren't you going to kill me?" Yes, it was a pathetic question, if a dragon isn't killing you, then why ask it to do it??

"- I have been so lonely since the last human that I chose! I usually prefer to have many friends around but all of the other options seemed so boring, you know?" His voice is oddly cheerful and sweet to someone that sees humans as pets, or "friends". So… What is really going on here?

"- I thought you ate people." You said, still frustrated that you were betrayed and lied to through this entire day.

"- Well, I guess I can eat humans-" Says the giant bird-lizard acting like a child trying to lie about doing something wrong- "- But I really don't like doing it, I promise!"

"- I just wanted someone to play with, you know? All the dragons that I know are just so boring and take everything seriously." He huffed in annoyance.

"- Well… Do you-" You started questioning if you really want to to know the answer, but curiosity sure is killing this cat!- "- What happened to the other humans that were here?"

"- Oh, they… Uhn, they died, because of your shirt lifespan and all ya know." He responded.

"- Oh… Then why did the soldiers bring us here saying you were going to eat us?" Why not go full balls in and ask everything, right?

"- It's- Sigh, it's really embarrassing, but I didn't know any other way of how to ask for company down here." He said shyly, which only confirmed your suspicion of this being complete bullshit.

"- And you threaten to burn a whole kingdom just because of that?" You asked.

"- Yes!" He answered with no shame whatsoever. This guy was a dog wearing a dragon costume, you couldn't believe what you were hearing.

"- Sigh, oh my God…"

"- Hey, uhn, what's your name?" Artemio spoke, he thought that he should also ask questions as he wants to be able to enjoy every second with his new pet.

"- It is [Y/N]. And you're Artemio, right?" You can't believe any of this, really. You went from an absolutely terrible life or death situation, to a… Well, you can't even tell what the hell is going on anymore!

"- [Y/N].... [Y/N]! [Y/N], that's such a good name!" The excited dragon repeated your name multiple times before interrupting your peace once again. You can't be mad at him, but-

Come on, you needed some time to accept everything that just went down. You didn't even notice you were on the floor until Artemio was in front of your view again.

"- [Y/N]!" He was so easy to please, that just saying your name was fun to him.

"- Sigh… Hey Artemio." You sighed as there was no way in hell this dragon would leave you to deal with this weird feeling of emptiness arising in your chest.

"- What do you want to do now?" He asked cheerfully, but not completely oblivious to your feelings of being abandoned underground with him by force.

You stayed silent for a second, again, trying to come with terms with this new lifestyle that you were subjected to. You technically could ask Artemio to open the gate, he doesn't seem to have any intention of hurting you. But who knows? He has a different point of view in this whole thing than you do.

Silence was taking over the cave, but not exactly an awkward silence, just… A comforting one.

The water dripped from the ceiling. You felt the ground underneath you shake a little as Artemio followed your "guidance". He decided to lay on his back near you.

He wasn't really doing any self reflection at all, he just wanted to join in with you, yet all he could think is how happy he is to have someone else to spend time with.

You may only see him slightly from the corner of your eyes, yet you still feel a little, strange, by seeing a dragon mimic your ways.

You don't feel nessecerally homesick, but you do miss your father. You absolutely hate the idea of coming back to the kingdom, but… If you could see your father one last time, and probably help him with the gold that is in this place….

Maybe you could even-!.....

"- Artemio."

"- Yes, [Y/N]!*

"- AAH!" He turned himself to meet your face so fast that you whimpered because of his sudden motion.

He was going to check if you were okay, but you stopped him showing that you were fine, just a little spooked.

"- Hey, Artemio-" You said again, as you were still reformulating your question in your head-

"- Do you know how to burn an entire castle?"

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

#yandere #sheep stuff #yandere oc #sheep's stuff #yandere x reader #yandere oc fanfiction #yandere oc x reader #yandere dragon #yandere dragon x reader #yandere dragon fanfiction #yandere fanfiction #yandere fanfic #yandere monster #yandere monster fanfiction #special delivery request #special delivery fanfictions

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sgt-nerd-plays · 3 years ago

Text

Grand Waaagh!

Long time, no battle reports. Sadly, there’s been a bit of a global pandemic going around and being a responsible member of the community, I’ve been avoiding big gatherings that might spread the plague. However, your old sarge has been vaccinated, so with the help of likewise protected people, I was able to get a game in. This time, I was able to bring my ork army. Not just orks, but a whole stompa!

The Stompmost

Game Setup:

The idea was that it was going to be a more casual game where we would bring a bunch of models, play on on oversized board, and just kinda slam minis together with a bit of objective holding as a treat.

I was, of course, playing orks, and bringing 2000 points, plus the stompa. My partner was playing Alpha Legion, and bringing 1000 points. On the other side, we had one person bringing 2000 points of Crimson Fists (Hi Ryolnir!) and another person bringing 1000 points of Grey Knights (Hi, Zuul!) Thanks to Ryolnir for providing several of the pictures used in this batrep.

I brought Ghaz, a warboss on warbike, a weirdboy, five meganobz trukkboyz, a trukk (for carting around said trukkboyz), two mobs of boyz (11 and 14 models in each), a dakka jet, five warbikers, and one of each of the non-HQ buggies, plus an extra scrapjet. Except I’m an idiot and forgot one scrapjet and the dragsta, so I had to borrow a scrapjet from the game club’s cabinet, and a wartrike which stood in for the dragsta. I played as Evil Sunz, though several of the units (the bikeboss and the trukk) were Death Skulls and the dakkajet was painted up as Bad Moonz. I know, I’m terrible, but the rest of my army was wysiwyg.

My Narrative:

Warboss Scragkill Gudluk revved his warbike impatiently. Somewhere there was a scrap, and he was anxious to get to it. However, he’d been separated from his mob. And if that wasn’t bad enough, da Boss had shown up, along with a bunch of red-painted gits.

Ghazghkul Mag Uruk Thraka, prophet of da Waaagh, was giving orders. “Awright, we needs t’get into dis fight quick, so I want you an’ yer other evil sunz t’haul yer guts like they was on fire, you got it?”

“Er, beggin’ yer pardon, but I ain’t no Sunz. I’m Death Skulls!” Scragkill slapped the side of his blue bike proudly.

Ghazghkull responded by smacking him on the side of the head so hard he fell off of the bike and skidded several yards.

When Scrag managed to hobble up and lean unsteadily against the side of the bike, Ghaz asked “What was dat?”

“Er, da red ones go fasta?” Scrag said uncertainly.

“Dat’s what I likes t’hear. Now, we’ll send in da big lad first.” Ghaz craned his neck to look up at the stompa, with its grot rigger crew scrabbling atop getting it ready for waaagh. “I gots a good feelin’ about dis.”

Da Waaagh approaches!

Our deployment zone was in one quarter of the table, minus a nine inch radius from the center. I pushed the stompa up as far as I could. Its only real hope was to get to the astraeus before it lost too many wounds. Most of the Alpha Legion units were in Deep Strike, ready to move in at a moment’s notice.

The Emperor Protects! As does this wall! [Credit: Ryolnir]

The knights player put his entire army into deep strike. The fists player, on the other hand was deployed a bit more defensively than my orks. If only I'd been so smart. He ended up going first, and he immediately popped the stompa. Its work done, the astraeus returned with full honors to its cabinet, where it would do me no further harm, since it was obviously going to be a really short game if it had stayed on the table.

However, this caused some follow-on effects for both of us. Because he'd hidden his stuff, he didn't have angle with a lot of his stuff turn one. On the other hand, I couldn't get anything into charge range that turn, and most of my shooting couldn't target his stuff either. I managed to take out an assault intercessor squad, but that was pretty much it. My partner's maulerfiend was stuck in the back of a bad traffic jam with my warbikers. This meant turn one was spent mostly untangling this while his units got into firing position.

He did have a good firing line on one of my units: The trukk I'd hidden to the side of the stompa, sadly only mostly out of line of sight. It was popped, and I lost one of my trukkboy meganobz on the disembark.

Da Real Treasure Was the Dakka We Found Along Da Way. [Credit: Ryolnir]

I was able to get a couple of buggies into line of sight with his melee infantry, however, and I was able to take out one unit of assault intercessors with my snazzwagon and boostablasta. Meanwhile, my two deffdreads were trundling forward to get their claws on something tasty. At the far side of the board you can see my meganobz trying to get into cover until they could make their way to a scrap.

Bullets! My only weakness! [Credit: Ryolnir]

The grey knights teleported in, taking the fight to me at the midpoint on the board. Meanwhile, the crimson fists player moved his units forward out of hiding and began taking things down. The buggies folded quickly under some shooting from his speeder and aggressors.

On the other side of the board, the meganobz wilted under the knights' shooting and smites. Ghaz lost four wounds to the psychic onslaught.

Yo yo yo! It’s Grandmaster Dreadknight, and I’m here to rap about how the Emperor saves, novitiates!

However, now it was time for waaaagh! A bit of shooting took out a few of the vanvets, and then the deff dreads ran up and gave the last three a nice hug, turning them into crimson smears.

Where did da humies go, George?

Ghaz, the bikeboss, and the bikers all charged in at the dreadknights. The weirdboy cast fists of gork on the bikeboss, making him right killy.

Hit ‘im in da face! Den hit ‘im in da face harder!

It turns out that seven killa klaw attacks at S14, with extra attacks for each of the originals that doesn't do damage, is a lot. The grandmaster was a deadknight instead of a dreadknight. That robbed the bikers of any attacks, since he was their charge target. But fortunately, Ghaz got full attacks on the other dreadnight. ...Of which two went through, and were both saved against. Some days you get the waaagh, some days the waaagh gets you.

On their turn, the grey knights smote the crap out of the bikeboss and the warbikers, getting them mostly dead and finishing them off in the shooting and fight phases. Ghaz ended up hanging on with a single wound.

Last Ghazp

The Crimson Fist player wasn't idle during this time. He took out the dakkajet with some long distance shooting, then went ahead and removed the two deff dreads, one scrapjet, my squigbuggy, and several boyz. That left me with a grand total of one scrapjet, twenty-odd boyz in two squads, my weirdboy, and Ghaz holding on by a single wound when my third turn came up.

Orks don’t panic. The sweating and twitching is just anticipation of a good waaagh, is all. No one is fleeing, we’re just looking for a better scrap, is all. [Credit: Ryolnir]

But that was when my allies, the alpha legion, showed up! So secretly, in fact, that no photographic evidence for their arrival can be found. Yeah, none of my pictures from that part of the game came out well. Ultimately, his obliterators and terminators managed to take out the crimson first redemptor. My weirdboy managed to kill the grey knights chaplain, but the surviving justicar of his strike squad was able to deal a fatal wound to Ghaz, finally toppling the Prophet of the Waaagh.

We basically called it there. The grey knights player had to go, so the crimson fist player did his last turn of shooting to see if we'd have even stood a chance. The surviving scrapjet took a surprisingly long time to die, given it started the round with only five wounds left. But when it died, it exploded, and thanks to the careen stratagem, it was able to leave its mark.

Enjoy your mortal wounds, suckers!

Ultimately, it's a little hard for me to analyze the battle too fully. The abortive superheavy duel skewed deployment pretty heavily. It probably saved me a bit of shooting in the first round, but it also meant that I wasn't able to any shooting off my first turn either. Going second definitely hurt me, since it meant the trukkboyz meganobz weren't able to get their full value (though they absorbed a lot of firepower before they died, which probably saved some other units). The maulerfiend never got past the traffic jam until turn three, and the other units he had were too far back to be able to shoot or get into melee.

That left me pretty much high and dry turn two, looking down the barrel at 3000 points without any backup. By the time he popped in on our turn three, I was down to about 650 points, 300 of which belonged to one-wound Ghaz. Even if he’d popped off, it’s unlikely we would have been able to claw our way back out of that deficit. If we’d gone first, waiting until turn three wouldn’t have hurt quite as bad, but as it was, that was two full rounds where I was effectively 1000 points behind the enemy.

In the future, I’ll probably ask that my partners not go quite that crazy on deep strike shenanigans, or at least come in a bit sooner.

All that being said, I had a ton of fun, and it was great finally getting my boyz on the table. I did learn a lot about pitfalls in setting up, how variable some of my units can be, and how to move things fast. I also learned some organization issues, and I'll know how to handle them better. In the future, rather than showing with a stack of double-sided buttscribe sheets, I'll have them singlesided in a binder, so I can flip through them quickly and know where things are.

On the ruined battlefield, the shattered armor of the once-mighty stompa were scattered and blasted. The remains of orks and traitor marines decorated the landscape. The adeptus astartes were the only ones who survived to recover their dead.

And yet, under the hot sun, some of the debris stirred. A massive ceramite plate was thrown aside, and the massive power weapon known as Gork’s Klaw emerged from the wreckage.

#warhammer 40k #Warhammer #orks #ghazghkull #evil sunz #space marines #crimson fists #grey knights #alpha legion #Battle Report #wh40k #40K #plastic space barbies #adeptus astartes #traitor astartes #Orks40k #space orks #batrep

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thenuclearweaselhaslanded · 3 years ago

Text

Grand Waaaagh!

The Stompmost

Game Setup:

My Narrative:

“Er, beggin’ yer pardon, but I ain’t no Sunz. I’m Death Skulls!” Scragkill slapped the side of his blue bike proudly.

Ghazghkull responded by smacking him on the side of the head so hard he fell off of the bike and skidded several yards.

When Scrag managed to hobble up and lean unsteadily against the side of the bike, Ghaz asked “What was dat?”

“Er, da red ones go fasta?” Scrag said uncertainly.

Da Waaagh approaches!

The Emperor Protects! As does this wall! [Credit: Ryolnir]

Da Real Treasure Was the Dakka We Found Along Da Way. [Credit: Ryolnir]

Bullets! My only weakness! [Credit: Ryolnir]

On the other side of the board, the meganobz wilted under the knights' shooting and smites. Ghaz lost four wounds to the psychic onslaught.

Yo yo yo! It’s Grandmaster Dreadknight, and I’m here to rap about how the Emperor saves, novitiates!

However, now it was time for waaaagh! A bit of shooting took out a few of the vanvets, and then the deff dreads ran up and gave the last three a nice hug, turning them into crimson smears.

Where did da humies go, George?

Ghaz, the bikeboss, and the bikers all charged in at the dreadknights. The weirdboy cast fists of gork on the bikeboss, making him right killy.

Hit ‘im in da face! Den hit ‘im in da face harder!

Last Ghazp

Orks don’t panic. The sweating and twitching is just anticipation of a good waaagh, is all. No one is fleeing, we’re just looking for a better scrap, is all. [Credit: Ryolnir]

Enjoy your mortal wounds, suckers!

In the future, I’ll probably ask that my partners not go quite that crazy on deep strike shenanigans, or at least come in a bit sooner.

And yet, under the hot sun, some of the debris stirred. A massive ceramite plate was thrown aside, and the massive power weapon known as Gork’s Klaw emerged from the wreckage.

#warhammer #warhammer 40k #orks #space marines #crimson fists #grey knights #alpha legion

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lovlydovlyjaycie · 4 years ago

Text

Ævi - Frontlines

Hey again! This will be a continued series. The first Ævi series is in my masterlist and is only four parts. This is going to be a ongoing series, so there is going to be a lot more of Ævi to come. :)

Summary: Y/n or also known as Ævi has lived through varies of world events. Now it is 1941, she has excepted that some things cannot be changed so Loki has convinced Y/n to go to New York and live a normal life, a life Y/n always wanted. Or as normal it can be, because new introductions lead to events that didn’t go down in the history books.

Characters: Bucky Barnes x reader, Loki, Steve Rogers, OC Vera

Warnings: Fluff, language, smut 18+

Part 6

What am I supposed to do? I needed to go to Vera.. There was no question about that. She needed me. But Bucky. I don’t want to leave him and I can’t take him with me. I was pacing around in my hotel room, like that would make everything fall into place. I had told Loki what had happened with Vera and he went to get boat tickets to Norway as soon as possible. But how soon would that be. How much time would I have with Bucky. I needed to pack my things. That made me stop in my tracks and walk over to my closet. I was pulling everything out and placing it in my suitcase. It started of being put in neatly, but soon enough I was throwing everything in with frustration. I was mad, mad at myself for not opening that letter sooner, mad that I had a life here, mad that I now had someone here I didn’t want to leave behind, mad with this stupid war, mad with everything that was happening around it, mad that I couldn’t do anything to about it to change this stupid war. My vision was getting blurry, when I whipped my eyes my hands were wet. I was crying. This wasn’t fair, non of it was, especially to Bucky. I love him, I love him so much. And that’s why it hurts so much. I took a deep breath, trying to gather myself. I stood up and walked to the bathroom to fix whatever make-up was out of place.

Looking at myself in the mirror I was a complete mess. My mascara was everywhere but my lashes. “Get yourself together.” I told myself. Bucky will be here any minute now, can’t be looking like this. I got some wipes and fixed myself up. Put some mare mascara on. “Better. Now stop crying. For Gods sake you’re over a thousand years old.” I said I was looking in the mirror. On the one side this shouldn’t bother me so much, I have lived through so much shit in my time and this is what is causing me to break down. And on the other side, this is who I am. I am human, I am living. With that comes, heartbreak, sadness, anger, frustration, happiness, love. I love love, just since I’ve been with Bucky I felt love in a much more intense way than I ever had before.

How am I supposed to tell Bucky. We literally just got engaged. This should be the start of something, not the end. I don’t even know for how long I’m gonna be away for. A month? A year? Till the end of the war? I closed my eyes. I already knew the answer. It would be until the end of the war. At least four more years. I sighed. It would just be four years without Bucky I tried to convince myself. “Just four years.” That is if he doesn’t join the war. I thought to myself and it made my stomach drop. I put my hand over my eyes. “Nothing will happen to him if he doesn’t join the war. He’ll be fine... He’ll be fine.. He’ll be fine Y/n. Stop worrying.” Scolding myself. I needed to calm down. Then there was a knock at the door. It must be Bucky.

I gave myself one quick look before answering the door. Putting on the best smile I had I opened the door and there was Bucky. Seeing him gave me a genuine smile. It made my stomach do flips. “Hey, darling. You look beautiful.” He said as he gave me a quick peck on my lips. He had his signature smirk on his face. “Thank you.” I told him sincerely. “So I got this for us today.” He said as he pulled two tickets from his pocket. Dancing tickets. “To celebrate our engagement.” He continued. He looked so happy. I needed to tell him about me going to Norway possibly really soon. “It’s at the same place where we met.” He told me with a big smile. I looked down not knowing what to say. “Is something wrong?” Bucky asked as he reached for my hand. “No. I love it! I just can’t believe we’re engaged still.” And I couldn’t believe we were honestly. I didn’t want to ruin this day. So I’ll tell him tomorrow or after the dance. Just not now.

The day had been perfect. We went to the same diner we did the were we met each other for the second time. We took the same walk we did as we did on our first real date. Everything was perfect. It almost made me forget that I would have to leave. Key word almost.

We were walking towards the dance hall, a lot of people were already inside. The music that was playing was fast paced. Everybody inside was having a good time jumping around, being spun or lifted in the air. Bucky was guiding us towards the bar to get us some drinks before dancing, holding my hand tightly. “What do you want sweetheart?” He asked me. “Whatever you’re having.” I answered Bucky.

He would get us some beers and we cheered. I could only gulp it down as quick as I possibly could. “Wow.” Bucky stated. “Never knew you could drink like that.” He laughed. Being a friend of Thor makes you drink like that I laughed to myself. Shit I also have not told him about me being Ævi, I am messing up in so many ways. But now I have to somehow tell him I am leaving possibly very soon. “Bucky?” I started. “Come on lets dance!” He said as he held my hand and almost dragged me to the dancefloor. There was a fast paced song on and everybody was jumping and dancing around and so were we.

After many songs there was finally a more slow one on. Bucky kept giving me a look I couldn’t quite figure out what he was thinking. “Why are you giving me that look?” I asked him trying to figure him out. “You’re just so beautiful and I am happy.” I could hear the honesty behind his voice and the need for him to get that off his chest. “I was thinking of looking for a ring tomorrow.” I looked at my hand that was resting on his shoulder. I felt awful. “Bucky? Can we talk somewhere where it is not this loud?” Bucky gave me a confused look, but nodded his head yes and started to follow me outside.

“Bucky I-..” I started and sighed. Thinking about it made my heart break. “Is there something wrong?” He asked not knowing what was going on. “Bucky I just want you to know that.. I love you, I love you so much, so much that it even hurts. And I didn’t think-..” I sighed again. Bucky had a even more confused look on his face. I walked over to him and took his hands. “What’s going on?” He asked trying to understand what my conflict was. He was looking into my eyes trying to see if the answers were there. “I-.. A long friend of mine in Norway, she.. she lost her daughter and husband recently because of the war... And I need to go see her, I need to see if she is ok.” I stammered out. “I am sorry to hear that, y/n. When are you leaving?” He asked me. “I don’t know yet, but very soon. Loki already looked at tickets for boats that go that way, but I don’t know yet what he found.” He nodded at that in understanding and held my hands a little tighter. “Do you know when you’re coming back here?” He asked unsure of himself already dreading the answer.

I closed my eyes and sighed. I knew exactly when I would be coming back, but I couldn’t exactly say how I know what I know. “I’ll come back after the war.” I looked up trough my lashes at him to see what his reaction was at that. He let go of one off one of my hands at that and rubbed is mouth in thinking. “Maybe if I join the war and somehow get stationed off in Norway we can-...” “No! No, I don’t want you to join the army Bucky. Please don’t do that.” I interrupted him, that was the last thing I wanted him to do. “But if more people join the fight it might be over sooner. They are sending out troops now from America as we speak. I also am a good fighter and a good shot.” I could only shake my head no at that. “Bucky, please don’t join the army. I am begging you don’t do it. This war.. It will not end anytime soon and a lot of people will die. I don’t want you to be one of those people.” I was all serious. If he joined the army it would break my heart. The not knowing if he was ok or not would break me. He gave in and nodded his head. “Lets go back inside and pretend there is no war going on.” Bucky said trying to reassure me.

Back inside there was a slow song on again. I could not be close enough to him. I was resting my head on his shoulder and held him a little tighter. Bucky was holding my neck with one hand and the other was on my lower back. We were so close to each other, yet so far. I felt a tear roll down my cheek. I felt helpless. I felt like I was stuck. And I hated it. I put my hand up against my cheek to wipe away the tear. I didn’t want to leave. “I love you Bucky.” I said quietly, I wasn’t even sure if Bucky could hear what I said over the music until he held me a little tighter. “I love you y/n.” He told me. I closed my eyes trying to ignore the music that was playing. I could hear his heartbeat, beating in a steady rhythm.

The walk back to the hotel had never been this long yet so fast. We were walking in circles, not wanting this night to end. But it was getting quite dark and we had to go inside at some point. “I am still looking at a ring tomorrow.” He told me as wee were nearing the hotel. That made me slightly sigh of relieve, but he didn’t know how long this war would be going on for. It wasn’t fair of me to ask him to wait and put his life on pause for me. “Bucky, I don’t want you to wait-..” I started. Bucky came to stand in front of me. “Y/n, you leaving doesn’t make me stop loving you. And I get why you don’t wanna hear this, but if I have to I will wait a hundred year or a thousand years, hell an eternity, if it all meant that in the end I would be with you. And that is what I’m gonna do whether you like it or not.” He said as he put both his hands on my cheeks. “I love you, Y/n. Now, tomorrow and forever.” Then he planted a sweet kiss on my lips. It was slow and full of want, but not of lust. As we both slowly pulled back we couldn’t let go of each others gaze. “I like that. Now, tomorrow and forever.” He smirked at that. “Well it is how I feel.” He said as he dropped his hands to mine. “I will love you now, tomorrow and forever too Bucky.” I gave him another peck on the lips as it was time to go inside of the hotel.

Before I even had the chance to open my room Loki burst out of his room. Bucky looking slightly shocked but keeping his own as Loki approached. “Where have you been?!” Loki asked annoyed. “With Bucky. Did you get tickets?” Loki looked Bucky up and down in slight disgust. He obviously didn’t like Bucky for whatever reasons he had. “Yes I did get the tickets. And you need to pack.. Now.” He demanded. “Wait.. When are we leaving?” I asked confused. “You said as soon as possible. I got tickets for tomorrow.. Morning. We leave at eight.” My eyes grew wide. I was expecting soon, just not this soon. I was at a loss for words. I felt Bucky squeeze my hand. “That’s faster than I expected.” Bucky said under his breath. I looked at out interlocked hands. “I’ll help you pack doll.” Bucky continued. “Good even a human is smart enough to know what that means.” I gave Loki a warning glare at that. I opened the door to let me and Bucky in and said goodnight to Loki.

“Ignore him, he’s... weird.” I said about Loki. “I heard that.” Loki said from the other side of the door. “Sorry again.” I said to Bucky. “I didn’t know it would be... That fast.” I said with sadness in my eyes.

The night together packing went slow. I already had a few things packed luckily. After we were done packing we just laid on the bed together. Talking about anything and everything to keep our minds of reality. After a moment of silence Bucky spoke up. “Will you write me when you’re there?” He asked. I looked up at him from where I was positioned on his side. “Of course. Everyday.” I told him and that was a promise I made to myself. “Will you?” I asked him. “Everyday.” He answered back. I leaned forward to kiss him I wanted him close, one last time before sayin goodbye. I moved myself on top of him to deepen the kiss. Bucky put his hands by my neck at the top of my dress. He slowly started to unzip my dress. Caressing my skin as the zipper went down. His touch gave me goosebumps. When the zipper was all the way down I took my arms out of my dress exposing my bra. Our lips still interlocked Bucky started to sit up. Our minds hungry for each other. It was my turn to unbutton his shirt, after I was done doing that Bucky quickly shook off his shirt and threw it on the ground. I grinded down on his lap and could feel his cock hardening quickly. Mt panties were already completely soaked and ready to take them off now. I wanted him inside of me. I wanted to feel him.

Bucky went to unclasp my bra and threw it on the ground as well. His hand left hand went right for me breast and started flicking my nipple. I inhaled deeply at that sensation of his gentle touch. He put his other arm around me and his left hand let go of my nipple to hold me around my back as well. I let out a small whine at the loss of his touch. He pulled his head back looking at me briefly before spinning me around and now I was laying on my back on the bed. He discarded of my dress and panties that were still on and he quickly took off his trousers to free his already hardened cock.

He crawled back over my naked form his mouth going right back to mine. He again took my right hand with his left and put it above my head. My other hand went to his lower back, indicating I wanted him now. I felt his tip brushing against my folds, but he was not starting yet. his right hand went down to my bundle of nerves and started to slowly rub circles. My breathing started to pick up and I let out low moans against his mouth. I went to bit my lip to keep my volume low, but Bucky quickly went to suck on my lower lip before he let go. “I want to hear you.” He whispered to me. His thumb started to rub faster circles which made me close my eyes with the pleasure I was feeling. My breathing started to pick up and my moans started to get louder the faster he went. Everything started to tingle and I felt my walls try to clench to something. I let out a loud moan and my thighs quivering as I came.

I opened my eyes searching for Bucky’s who was still looking at me. Bucky was still rubbing me and I slowly started to feel sensitive trying to close my legs. Bucky moved his hips down so I couldn’t. I could feel his tip brushing against my entrance again. I let go of his lower back to move my one free hand up to his neck. “I want you inside of me.” I told him intently. And he complied. He slowly put his length inside me, while I was adjusting to the new fulness. He was stretching my walls slowly. When he was fully situated he waited for a moment for me to fully adjust and I slowly started moving my hips and so did Bucky. I tried to move faster already feeling a new sensation build up inside of me, but Bucky put his hand down on my right leg widening me up more so he could go deeper. I put my other leg around him, pushing him down, me wanting him to go faster. “Bucky go faster.” I told him lowly. But he shook his head keeping his slow steady pace. “I want to feel you. Let me feel you.” I slowed me breathing down and started to relax into the bed more.

His thrusts were slow, but hit every spot. With every move he made his pelvis brushed against my still sensitive bundle of nerves. Bucky started kissing my sensitive spot by my neck which made this pleasure feel al the more better. My breathing started to pick up slowly again and so did his. His thrust's were picking up and hitting harder. His balls slapping against my ass as he did. As we were both coming closer to our ends his speed started to pick up more and more. Bucky groaning in my ear as he was getting closer to his end. My moans were so loud I was getting afraid someone might hear them. I felt the familiar knot form in my stomach and my walls clenching around his length. “Bucky.” Is all I had to say as I felt my walls break around him. Simultaneously I felt his cock shoot hot spurts inside of me, filling me. His thrusts loosing rhythm before he stilled. “I love you.” He told me intently as he looked me in my eyes. “Now, tomorrow and forever.” I answered back as Ii pulled him closer for a deep kiss.

...

Let me know what you think :)

Taglist :

@darkdragonphoenix

@toribentleyva

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astroninaaa · 4 years ago

Note

Hot take a talk about technoblade:

Okay look I've been part of this fandom since August(thank god cuz i watched it all live and it woukd be a nightmare to caatch up) I bring this up cuz i want to discuss my problem with technos character. I have watched every single techno livestream that he made on dream smp and believe it or not i used to be a techno sympathiser that is until doomsday. (By techno apologist standards i am qualified to talk about his character hooray..)

Now techno like every character is flawed if he wasn't he would be boring fandom. One of his biggest flaws is being a hypocrite. That is not something you realise until you compare what he says all the time so you need to look a little deeper to realise it and i don't blame people for not seeing it.

This wouldn't be that much of a problem because that is a character flaw among with many others but the problem that his character has faced is that he doesn't develop much.

Now i hear techno apologist jump at me every single time noooo he isn't a stagnant character he has developed a lot. I am not saying that he hasn't developed at all the problem is that he has developed very little especially when you consider everything.

His goals his ideas his perception of the world what he believes him everything that makes his character him hasn't changed much and that is not a good thing from a writing perspective. Now why do i bring this up. Firstly I'm not saying this to say techno is a bad writer far from it he can be very good when he puts his mind to it. The problem with keeping a character in this state is that it's very harmful for said character first and to the story and other characters second. Look even at yourselves i can guarantee that you aren't the exact same person you were like five years ago for example because during that time you made mistakes learned from them and you grew. Just like in real life you also can't stay stagnant in fiction.

Okay so that's the main problem with technos character that he is stagnant as a character. Now this wouldn't be as big of a problem if he didn't have the role that he has.

You see techno both c! and cc! are very good at the game basically. Now why do i bring this up. The reason why i bring this up is bc of where this places techno whuch is at the very top of the chain don't try and seny it. This means that he is one of the most powerful people on the server if you are going to try and go against this point just look at lmanberg guys that's living proof of how powerful and how terrifying he actually is. I know a lot of you are gonna say but every can get stacked or play the game but you guys forget that even if you are stacked you just don't have the skill and cc! Techno of the best people when it comes to that which bleeds into his character. Saying that is like looking at the upper class than looking at the lower class saying just get rich like it doesn't work like that.

Because of his role techno is literally the 1% by rl standards which means he can a lit of things free of consequences bc no one can give him said consequences. The butcher army was ig an attempt at that but they failed miserably let's be real here.

Because he is in the 1% is incredibly skilled at pvp and can do anything bc no one can challenge him this places him on a pedestal and creates a power imbalance a very big one at that.

And that leads to his biggest problem he has practically everything as said by Techno himself and is never challenged, but that's not an interesting character. An audience gets tired for a character that always wins or loses. Because if it happens repeatedly it just takes all the suspense oh he will win immediately. He will go and slaughter them problem solved. That's it every time. Something that techno himself confirmed is then when he has a problem he just stabs it (both of these were said during the egg stream).

And if you are going to bring the things he went through to say he's changed don't cuz as long as he doesn't act on it it means nothing. Like examples Red festival killed tubbo an ally. Traumatic experience right? This is a good moment to develop his character and give us more insight. What happens? Techno tries to dismiss it and shows us his anxiety and gives us insight on his character Great! Character development? Starting to question himself just a bit or any sign of that event having an effect on him? Nope! Why? Cuz he doesn't act on it instead he tries to hide the fact that ever happened and changes to a different topic bc there is no justification there and he knows it. Nov 16th c!technos pov he just got betrayed caused some damage wished death upon his former allies and left. Quite a dramatic scene. He feels betrayed time for some good old character development. Him thinking about himself and his actions. Reflecting on them. Great moment! Problem: literally everything that shows this is done off camera and now suddenly he's retired... Okay you know what fine it's alright he would probably expand upon and did a timeskip to explain the ling time he didn't stream. I see where it's comming from. The butcher army ge gets hunted down bc actions have consequences techno and you can't just run away like that not after doing that. Great point from the butcher army. Go give him some consequences his character needs it. And then he gets executed alright a bit too far but i guess that's how it goes in this server. Techno gets his life back immediately.. well that was a bit pointless but alright a cool scene for the animatic fair. Then he kills quackity.. the butcher army lost.. this.. what? But this was the moment of consequences... and quackity didn't get it back like techno the butcer aemy lost more than techno what? Moving along he teams up with tommy aannnd the 50 withers are up and ready of course you didn't fully retire what was i expecting. And now team up with tommy perfect way to learn about dream and give more insight on lmanberg and how dream is a tyrant and everything techno is supposed to stand against. The green festival tommy chooses tubbo over techno techno feels betrayed understandable.... and then he teams up with dream lmanberg is destroyed and the underdogs are beaten to the ground loose everything they ever worked for and are taught to be scared of the anarchists?!?!?!?!

Okay now hold up a sec I'll have to stop you right there. What. did. you. just. do. Cuz there is a limit to the amount of stuff you can let a character get away with. The line was crossed months ago this is not good at all.

Also what are yoi guys talking about consequences. Lives? All 3 home? Right there pets? The ones that died were the ones he brought expecting to not live he brought them there on purpose so they don't count. He is one of the most wealthy peoole on the server (no one beats ranboo lol) what did he exactly loose? Friendships? Was that all the hardships you guys have?

Lmanberg lost their home their lives their wealth their pets their friend everything they loved and lived for everything they stood for they lost a part of themselves in the end.

Look at the last 2 paragraphs and how imbalanced that is. How are you guys blind to this How?! And why did doomsday happen? Because the butcher army failed. And if anything techno proved them that they should have punished him harder with this.

So what was the lesson of doomsday?

That you shoukd obey the people on top and never go against them or you will loose everything you love.

Great lesson guys this is exactly the lesson the rich class and every single tyrant tried to teach society and this lesson is being told by the anarchist great job....

Do you see the problem now. This is the reason techno needs a consequence bc if he keeps going like this he will become a Mary Sue. And that is a horrible direction for a character that has a lot of potential. That potential is why i liked his character that much in the beginning but now it's almost non existent. Anyway I'll end this now cuz this went on for too long. That's basically my opinion on it feel free to share your thoughts.

okay. okay. i read this like three times bc. because look

i agree in some very specific points, but i disagree in very broad manners.

(this entire......... essay is all /rp and /nm!!!!)

anyways. send me hot takes!!!

i like c!techno. i personally think he's one of the most fun characters to watch because i enjoy the mess, the crazyness, the chaos of it all. watching doomsday through c!tommy's eyes was painful. watching doomsday through c!techno's eyes was just so fucking hilarious and exciting and fun. he's just a fun character to watch. he's just Funny. i am a fan. however

for starters: ctechno is, 100%, out of the park, an stagnant character. he has little to no development throughout the story. we see no changes in how he acts. that's not necessarily a bad thing, but considering the type of character he is, watching him develop (be it to an actually full-fledged villain or towards a redemption arc) would be ideal to keep him a character people can actually support.

i wouldn't say he's a hypocrite. c!techno has a very strict moral code and he follows it with no hesitation, with no doubts. the point is that his moral code is flawed and skewed. that doesn't make him a hypocrite, that makes him someone with bad morals.

calling c!techno "the 1%" is a stretch. for one- c!ranboo has as much resources, if not more, as c!techno does. he has dozens of totems, thousands of emeralds, and probably has one of the higher counts of diamond and netherite on the server. why is that never brought up? because it doesnt matter. c!foolish has so much gold and diamonds and netherite and just everything, really, and it's also never brought up/a reason for people to be afraid of him. the dream smp isn't a capitalist universe, there's no "1%". specially bc there's, like, i don't know, 20 players? that makes c!techno 1/20 OR 3/20 if we count c!ranboo and c!foolish. but that's not the point at all: the point is that ctechno is feared bc he's skilled and has a relevant personality, not bc he has resources. c!wilbur has no shit and he's still terrifying, there's no character willing to oppose him. not because of resources, but because of who he is. when c!techno first fled from l'manburg into "retirement" he had no shit either, it took him a while to be rich again. no one attacked him either way.

why, you ask? bc he fought against c!quackity with a fucking pickaxe and won. that's why. c!techno doesn't need resources to be feared. the power imbalance doesn't come from his resources, it comes from others’s fear. and they have a reason for that fear, bc c!techno hasn't been defeated yet. that has nothing to do with "upper class" and "lower class". because, one, not a capitalist system and class disparity isn't as simple as that, and two, even without his "riches" he still wins, bc he's got the skill. if you take out the skill, him being rich means nothing and he wouldve been easily killed by the butcher army or c!tommy or whoever decided to kill him. a good example is, once again, c!ranboo: if he wasn't friends with everyone and someone decided to actually fight him like was done with c!techno, he would've died. easily. being rich in the smp is relative.

c!techno will be challenged when we have a character strong enough to challenge him in a way that matters. it's important to be smart about it. that's why i'd love to see, out of everyone, c!philza turn against him, but that's a how other discussion (WHICH I'M WILLING TO TALK ABOUT.......... everytime i make these and i add little point i dont elaborate on and then say i'm willing to talk about them and no one ever asks me to <//3 PAIN /nm /lh).

i do think he's a character that just Always Win in narrative ways and that's very frustrating. he does need to get pulled a few notches down. again, that will only happen when we have a character that can step up to him and challenge him in a way that matters (woooo c!philza you want to hold c!techno accountable for his bullshit so bad woooo........)

now, onto c!techno's trauma. he doesn't need to show it. he- he doesn't. that's........ not how trauma works, and that's one of the points that make his trauma so forgettable for the viewers. c!techno is, from inside out, a character that hardly shows his emotions, but that doesn't mean he doesn't display symptons of trauma. he does, they're just a lot more subtle than other characters's. that doesn't mean he doesn't have any or that he isn't affect by it. c!techno is, in a lot of ways, a lot like c!tubbo: both of them don't mention the shit they've gone through and don't react to it and bc of that some of the viewers don't see how important some traumatic events were in their characterisation. that's why you analyse those characters's trauma through behavior, not through easily seen displays of trauma.

i do think it's taken a little too far with c!techno. the way he reacted to c!tommy's death was...... disappointing, to say the least. c!techno is an underwhelming character in many ways. as said before, it's because he's stagnant. that definitely needs to be worked on.

about the syndicate? yeah, no. theyre not teaching others to fear them. others just Do That bc of their history on the server, but they have literally talked about how they want to better their reputation, bc they don't want to be seen as murderers or oppressors in any way. are they flawed? yes, very much. they have no indicators of what is or isn't a government and they show no regard around the importance of a difference between an oppressive and a democratic government.

they had no right to show up at c!tubbo's door and interrogate him, because they can't appoint themselves as government police. for starters, that's not how anarchy works (they should've had everyone's permission for that. they obviously don't), but also it's just... stupid. it makes it seem that they're trying to boss everyone around so that they live like the syndicate wants them to, which goes directly against the syndicate's own ideals. however, c!techno thinks he has that right. he thinks this is what he's supposed to do. he's just following his moral code - his moral code is just deeply, deeply flawed. what he says and what he does contradict each other but not for him, not to his interpretation. to his interpretation, he's following his strict moral code.

what happened at doomsday was horrible and c!techno has to be held accountable for it, yes, but, again, no character knows how to work around c!techno enough to hold him accountable for it. that's not c!techno's fault.

l'manburg just deserved better, honestly, but to be fair c!techno has been taken advantage of time and time again (sometimes purposefully, sometimes not) and he's fucked up in the head, god bless LMAOOOOOOO

i agree that things need to change otherwise he's just gonna keep being a stagnant character who can get away with everything. i do think he has more to him than meets the eye, tho. meh idk that's still just analysis!!! we have no way of knowing the intent behind c!techno's characterisation, at least not for now. i hope for the best tho cc!techno don't let me down <3

#c!techno critical #adding just in case #technoblade #c!technoblade critical #hot take ask!!!#i don't excuse his actions i just think things are not that easily said and done.#also didnt say it but i would NOT call him a mary sue. the only server mary sue is ranboo i am so sorry- LMAOOOO #that's not the concept of mary sue at all. it just- no it's just not i'm sorry #but i see where you're coming from anon and i respect your opinion!!! i just added my own since i said from the start #that i'd be saying what i thought of y'all's hot takes. if anyone just wants me to post your hot take and not say anything about it thats #fine! just lmk otherwise i Will comment on it i am a Law Major. i cannot Help Myself from Discussions #LMAOOOOOO

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sinner-as-saint · 4 years ago

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Hi Sebnation.

There's a bunch to talk about. Also, this is long. Feel free to not care at all. And again, this is just my opinion (cue that vine). Feel free not to agree as well.

First of all, I love you. All of you. My little army of sin pots/hyenas/whatever you wanna be! I know it sounds a little cheesy but you guys have been so much more than just "followers" and numbers, you've been my little family. MY tumblr people.

And even though I'm not talking about it, or answering any asks regarding it - I am well aware of all the tension and the drama and the disturbing and hateful things that are being said and done in the fandom.

I agree that certain someone has acted carelessly, and has even done the exact opposite of what they preached early on during the pandemic. I understand the heavy criticism there, for that. But then, the criticism turned into serious hate and threats. It has gotten to a point where our fandom has turned into nothing but a toxic pit of hate and hurtful words.

Personally, ever since the beginning, for me this space has always been an escape. A place where I can freely share my hobby with others who happen to be in the same fandom as me. Again, MY people. Anon, or non anon, hate has always been here. But it never used to matter. Because at the end of the day, one of you would always make me smile with a sweet and loving message.

Yet now, it's gotten to a point where I have to think twice or even refrain from open Tumblr because I know for a fact that there will be messages and asks waiting for me regarding "seb and his gf drama" or what i think about "seb not wearing a mask and roaming around" or how I'm "blind and selfish" for continuing to support "a man like seb." Now before you assume that I'm okay with him not wearing a mask or not social distancing - I AM NOT. JUST CAUSE I HAVEN'T BEEN "CANCELLING" HIM OR HATING ON HIM DOESN'T MEAN THAT I DON'T CARE. I'm just choosing not to focus on it because I have enough problems, tension, and drama in my actual life.

But what's surprising is that, all I'm seeing left and right is people tearing him apart and dissecting his relationship, always looking for flaws. But nothing, no relationship, no one is perfect.

You want to call seb out for not wearing a mask? Alright, I agree. You're absolutely right. You wanna call him out because he's traveling during a pandemic? I agree again, you're right. You wanna call him out on not social distancing like he should? Again, you're right. But his relationship? That's none of our business.

What I'm trying to say is, I understand people's anger towards his carelessness, let's call it that. I understand how you feel when someone you look up to is taking something so serious, so lightly. I understand that some people feel a little jealous or what not that he's no longer single now. I understand the hate seb is getting now. It's justified to a large extent, I agree.

But lately it feels as though that's all this is. Like that's all this fandom (sebnation) is. A pit where nothing but hate and insults and cancel culture is brewing altogether like a poison. It's heartbreaking to see the once incredibly amazing fandom which gave me so many friends, turn into something so negative.

I, once again (for all those who think I'm a fucking monster for not hating on seb) am not saying that seb is a perfect little angel who's done no wrong. He has, alright. I agree that he's being careless, and he's not the only one. But what some of us are doing/saying under the pretense of being a 'caring fan calling out his mistakes' is just terrible.

And as a content creator, this is heartbreaking. This whole marvel fandom gave me so much. Friends, a platform to share my hobby, an escape - it soon became my favorite thing. Now it just a heavy hot mess.

Regarding the blocking "fans" on IG, well, I completely agree that that was rather odd. But also, the fandom has no right being this nosy and bringing up stuff from 2 years ago. Anyone can change in 2 years. Besides, we don't know these people personally. Then again, no one is perfect I guess.

I'm not urging anyone to blindly support someone's mistakes and carelessness. You are a 100% allowed to point out someone's mistakes, but it can surely be done without death threats, hate, interfering in their personal lives and cancel culture. At least let's try and make this space, this fandom a better place for us; rather than it just being a seething cauldron of toxicity and hate.

I don't know how to end this rant. A friend said all this will pass. And all the drama and all the hate will eventually die out. I just hope the fandom doesn't die out with it.

Take care everyone. Be kind.

#sebastian stan #sebnation #marvel #be kind #also i am not leaving tumblr #just a rant #not a goodbye #peace

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maggiec70 · 4 years ago

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The Tabor Bridge Tale

I might have said something a while ago about posting bits and pieces from the Western World’s longest-running Napoleonic HistFic in progress. So to counter some gloom and doom, here’s my silly fictional version of getting to Vienna in one piece. Do hope you enjoy it.

>>>>>

Jean had improved by the second week of November. He’d set up a temporary camp south of Vienna for V Corps and waited for the rest of the army to arrive. Mariana didn’t watch him so closely now, hoping he’d learned his lesson, although he probably hadn’t learned anything. Meanwhile, the camp was pleasant, and she wondered how long they would be able to enjoy themselves.

The answer arrived two days later after breakfast when Prince Murat galloped up in all his finery. “You’ve heard about the Tabor bridges?” he called out as he dismounted, tossing his reins to an aide. Mariana still marveled at the cavalry commander’s appearance. Neither a plume nor a curl out of place—however did he manage it? Perhaps the prince had four valets instead of the usual two. On the other hand, Jean looked like he’d been marching in the wake of the baggage trains for days.

“Can’t say I have,” Jean answered. “We arrived the day before yesterday. It takes a hell of a lot longer for my infantry divisions to march over these damn roads than it does for your circus riders on their fancy ponies.

”Murat ignored the jibe. “The Tabor bridges are the only way into Vienna. My scouts say the enemy has already mined the longest span. Hungarians hold the near end, and Austrians have the far end. Both are bristling with artillery.” He shrugged. “If we advance across the bridge, assuming we can outwit the Hungarians, the Austrians will blow the long span at the first glimpse of a French uniform and then shell us. The emperor wants the bridges intact, and he’s ordered us to take them.”

“Who did Napoleon mean by us?”

Murat grinned, looking almost as piratical as André Masséna. “You and me, mon ami. Who better?” Another grin and Murat threw an arm around Jean’s shoulders for emphasis.

Mariana nudged Joseph in the ribs. “The marshal’s going to say no,” she whispered. “Watch.”

“Let him take the damn things himself. I hate bridges—I still get headaches from being shot on the Arcola bridge.” Jean unbuckled the canteen from his saddle and took a long drink before turning back to Murat. “How long are the bridges?”

“The scouts said a couple of miles. They’re nothing more than a series of cobbled-together wooden sections, the longest one an arched span, with marshes beneath.”

“And the Austrian artillery is at the farthest end?”

“Right at the bridgehead.”

“So they can see us coming?”

“From the time we reach the arched span. And that’s if the Hungarians don’t send an alert. I’ve already decided a sneak attack won’t work.”

Jean said nothing for a few minutes, staring in Vienna’s direction and the unseen bridges. After a moment or two of silence disturbed by a flock of birds and the horses’ restless stamping, Jean looked at Murat, a slow smile spreading across his face. Beata Santa Caterina, Mariana thought. He’s not going to refuse.

“It’s a bit long for a Sunday stroll, Joachim, but it might work.”

“I’m not following you.”

“You’ve gone at this backward. We’ll walk out there and bluff the enemy right off the bridge before they know what’s happened.”

“I enjoy a challenge as much as you do, but strolling across a mined bridge with artillery aimed at both my arse and my hard-won medals doesn’t inspire me with confidence.”

“Where’s your imagination, Joachim? We’re dressed in our finest, with decorations, plumes, cloaks, sashes, and so are our staff—yours in particular. Throw in four or five senior officers, and off we go in splendor, dazzling the enemy. Just a group of officers out for a pleasant walk. They’ll be paying so much attention to us that they’ll never see Oudinot’s grenadiers slogging through the marshes and dismantling the mines. By the time they realize what’s happened, we’ll have spiked their guns. Tell them there’s been a truce or a cease-fire. Nom de Dieu, they’re only Austrians.”

Mariana stared first at Joseph, then at Jacques, but they seemed amused and worse, willing to participate in the improbable charade. “Boys!” she muttered, her hands balled into fists. “They will never grow up, certainly not with him setting such an example.”

“Excellent idea, my dear D’Artagnan. I wish I’d thought of it. Well, brush yourself off so you’ll glitter like me, and let’s go.” Murat had turned toward his staff of waiting peacocks as he asked, “See you in half an hour?”

It took less than that for Jean to find Oudinot and explain what he needed. With a sinking feeling, Mariana saw that Oudinot seemed delighted with the idea and just as eager to rush into danger as the rest of them.

Jean interrupted her misgivings by shouting, “Saint-Denis, you have anything to get rid of this dust?”

She rummaged through her saddlebag for the tack rag she kept rolled in the bottom. Pulling it out, she swatted at the dust on his coat, decided his breeches were a lost cause, and gave his boots a hasty swipe. “Give me your cloak. It’s covered with horsehair. Where’s your hat?”

“Damned if I know—find it, will you?”

They met Murat and his staff two hundred yards before the first bridgehead. Mariana had never seen so much military finery, blinding gold lace and braid, or so many waving, bobbing white plumes in one place. She was also confident that the plumes and those who wore them would be blown up, one way or another, in the next little while. They might receive a mention in history books later, perhaps in the same vein as Thermopylae.

“This is like a Sunday promenade, so talk, tell jokes, laugh, and occasionally stop to admire the scenery,” Jean reminded them and set off, his arm hooked through Murat’s.

“What scenery? There’s nothing but marshes,” Mariana said.

“Pretend, Saint-Denis,” Jean called back to her. “That’s all this is—a big game of pretending.”

“Except for the Hungarians and Austrians, whose guns and mines are real enough,” she mumbled to Joseph and walked faster to keep up.

The Hungarians at the near bridgehead were disarmed almost immediately in the face of Murat’s smooth talk of a truce, Jean’s friendliness, and the staff’s easy camaraderie. Most of all, they welcomed the bottles of brandy appearing by some sleight of hand from half-a-dozen senior officers. Mariana had stopped between Joseph and Jacques, her mouth agape. “Who told them to bring brandy?”

Jacques laughed as he tried to peer over Joseph’s shoulder to see what was happening. “The marshal did. Who else?”

Although only two Hungarian officers understood French, the rest seemed to appreciate the sudden largesse, oblivious to the grenadiers creeping forward and disappearing beneath the bridge.

The charade held together as they advanced. Mariana moved forward when Joseph and Jacques linked their arms through hers. Without them, she would have collapsed onto the rough planks. With them, she felt like a marionette, being jerked along, her heart hammering against her ribs, mouth as dry and wooly as a blanket. When they had reached within a hundred feet of the last bridgehead and the enemy guns, an Austrian officer yelled at them to halt. Jean and Murat didn’t stop, but slowed their pace until Murat made himself heard without too much shouting.

“Who’s in charge here?” Murat demanded when he was less than twenty feet from the officer.

“Prince Auersperg is our commander. Who are you?”

“Prince Murat, His Imperial Majesty’s envoy. I won’t discuss armistice terms with anyone but your commander. Go get him,” Murat said, every inch of him drawn up, shoulders squared. The epitome of a peacock in full plumage strutting before a peahen. Mariana tried not to laugh.

Jean strolled over to the nearest gun and, with admirable aplomb, used the caisson for leverage and sat on the barrel, one gloved hand casually covering the fuse. “Damn long walk. Any of you have anything to drink?”

Mariana desperately wanted something to drink to ease the terrible dryness in her throat. She’d cheerfully drink the strong, sharp brandy, or even scoop some of the brown Danube water up in her shako and drink that. But the brandy might give her ten or fifteen minutes of false courage, enough to get her through to the end of this charade, whatever the end might be. The brandy was no closer to her than the river was, and she swallowed, the effort making her throat sore. With a stoic sigh, she followed the rest of Jean’s aides and staff officers as they moved among the guns or leaned against the bridge railings as if they had all the time in the world. If she stood beside the nearest howitzer, it couldn’t possibly hurt her. She rested her hand on the barrel, warm from the sun, and then leaned against it. When nothing happened, she relaxed as the warmth of the metal penetrated her coat and chased away the last of her chills. On another day and in another place, she might even feel secure enough to rest her cheek against the smooth bronze and doze off.

She raised her head as four Austrian officers helped an old man in a uniform that hung on his bony, stooped frame onto the bridge. “Look at him, Joseph—he’s ancient,” Mariana said, not bothering to lower her voice. “How can he command anything?”

Murat directed a barrage of Gascon-accented charm at the old prince, explaining the terms of the non-existent armistice. Auersperg’s rheumy yellow eyes widened, and he trembled visibly. Two of his aides gripped his elbows and held him upright. Mariana began to feel sorry for him, even though she knew he would have ordered his men in a thin, wavering voice to blow them all into the next world, had the circumstances been different.

Jean removed his hat and waved it in the direction of the advancing grenadiers. They rose from the marshes at his signal, clambered over the railings, and swarmed across the bridge. It was finally over. Not one cannon or musket had fired at them. No explosives had exploded. No casualties at all other than one confused, elderly Austrian prince who didn’t understand how completely his enemy had tricked him.

Mariana was glad she had something substantial to hold her up. Weak-kneed with relief, she tightened her grasp around her howitzer and blew out a long pent-up breath as Jean and Murat left the bridge, congratulating themselves on their superb chicanery and laughing at the risks they had taken.

“They’ll never understand how dangerous this was.” Mariana stepped onto the bare, packed earth of the riverbank, Jacques beside her. “We could have been blown to our heavenly rewards, and they’re laughing like schoolboys. I thought I had steadier nerves, but I was as faint-hearted as a recruit.”

“I never believed danger was imminent, Gabriel, nor do I think the marshal, or the prince for that matter, would have exposed us all to certain annihilation.” He draped his arm across her shoulders, the weight almost making her slip on the river mud. “Come on. I’ll get you a drink, or several if you need them.”

#joachim murat #jean lannes

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suttttton · 4 years ago

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The Mage of the Castle and the Mage of the Cavern

Written for Febuwhump, Day 3: Imprisonment

***

The guards come for Jon while he’s sleeping, and it’s only when he is gagged and bound and slung over one of their shoulders, being carried down an endless staircase, that he starts to stir. Even then, awareness comes to him slowly, his mind sluggish. It won’t occur to him until much later that he has been drugged.

Still, Jon does eventually realize what’s happening. He fights against his captor’s grip, but the man’s arms are strong and unyielding. Good thing, too—Jon realizes belatedly that breaking his captor’s hold on him would only lead to a bad fall and bruises for him.

“He’s awake,” the man carrying him grunts.

“Stay sharp,” a second voice answers. Jon looks up, and there is a second guard walking behind them. The staircase is dimly lit, but Jon can just make out Jonah’s crest prominently displayed on her uniform.

Jon tries to ask her what’s happening, where they’re taking him and why. But his words are hopelessly muffled by the gag in his mouth.

The woman’s mouth crooks into a smile. “Told you the gag was a good idea.”

The man shifts Jon on his shoulder. “I still think we should have followed our orders exactly.”

Orders? What orders? From who? These guards are wearing Jonah’s crest, but surely their ‘orders’ didn’t come from him. They must be traitors, then, or, or spies. Taking him hostage, to be held for ransom.

(Or tortured. Or killed. Jonah has plenty of enemies who might want to enact vengeance by harming his beloved.)

Jon doesn’t let himself think of that. Instead, he focuses on taking in as many details as he can. It’s not an encouraging sign that the guards chose not to hide their faces, but Jon resolves to make them regret that fact. He’ll escape this, make it back to Jonah.

(How did they get him out of Jonah’s private rooms? How did they get past Jonah’s wards? Is Jonah alright, is he safe?)

It doesn’t matter. Jon has to believe that Jonah is fine. There’s no point in keeping Jon, otherwise. Unless—No. Jon refuses to waste his energy on idle fantasies. He watches the guards. He watches the stone walls, twisting down deeper and deeper into the ground. He counts their steps, and when he loses count he counts the torch sconces on the walls. When he loses count of those, he pays attention to the quality of the stone, which is getting less and less impressive as they go deeper.

They reach a door, and the guard holding Jon lets go with one arm to open it. The door is bolted shut with a beam of heavy iron, and the second guard has to help him lift it. Dread pools in Jon’s stomach as they carry him into the room.

It’s a vast cavern, dimly lit, although not by any natural means. It’s largely empty, nothing but a stone floor and blank stone walls. At the center of the room is a massive rock, with two iron shackles connected to it by long chains.

Jon fights the guards as they attach the chains—his pride will allow nothing else—but he knows it’s fruitless. Either of the guards could handle him on their own, and there are two of them. They untie his hands, and the woman holds him down easily as the other places the shackles on his wrists.

Only when he’s so restrained do they untie his feet, allowing him to stand. And then… They leave him there, chained to the rock. The door closes behind them, and he hears the iron bar swing down with a loud thunk.

He’s alone. Still gagged, more trapped than he was before. His breath begins to come faster as he starts to panic. He doesn’t know why he’s here, he doesn’t know what to do, he—

No. Panicking is not going to help. He has to hold on to his composure, no matter how difficult it is. He takes a deep breath. Another. His breathing is still shaky, but it’s better.

He sits down for a little while, thinks. Takes everything he knows about what is happening, and arranges them, negatives and positives.

Negatives: There is most likely nothing he can do for himself in this situation, chained and trapped as he is. He is hidden far underground, in a prison that is likely shielded from magic. He is entirely at the mercy of the traitorous guards that brought him here, as well as whichever party gave them their orders.

Positives: Jonah will look for him, if he hasn’t started already, and he won’t stop until he’s found him. If Jon can stay calm until that happens, he’s in a perfect position to obtain information about Jonah’s enemies. And… Maybe his captors made a mistake in chaining him to the stone.

The chains are heavy, but if Jon can break them, he will have a decent weapon to attack the next person that opens the door. They’ll have to come back, if only to give him food. And when they do, Jon can swing his chains at them and escape.

Jon examines every inch of the chains, but they are solid. Even the place where they are driven into the stone is magically fused. There is no way to break them.

Jon sits down again.

(Jonah will come for him.)

***

It’s two days later, as far as Jon can tell. Jon lays on the cold floor, too exhausted to even shiver anymore. He’s thirsty, and hungry, and it seems increasingly likely that he’s been left to die in here.

The door opens, and Jon’s eyes snap towards it. He sits up, heart pounding with something between hope and fear.

And then he sees who has entered his prison, and Jon forces himself to his feet, feeling the most acute relief he’s ever had. It’s Jonah, of course it is, Jonah.

Jonah approaches him, and as soon as he’s close enough, Jon throws his arms around him, careful not to hit him with the chains. He buries his face in Jonah’s shoulder, torn between laughing and crying. He’s so happy, so relieved. (He’d been so scared.)

Jonah’s hands go to Jon’s hair, softly carding through it. Jon melts with it, letting himself relax. He can’t wait to go home, for this nightmare to finally be over.

Jonah pulls away, unties and removes the gag. “There now,” he says, tracing his thumb softly over Jon’s cheek. “I did ask them not to gag you.”

“Jonah, I—” Jon stops, his heart stuttering as he realizes what Jonah just said. “What?” his voice sounds faint.

“I was hoping to avoid this, to be honest. I wanted you to Ask them, for them to explain all this to you.” His hand slides down to Jon’s wrist, over the shackle there. “I really hate seeing you like this. But I couldn’t leave you down here without an explanation.”

Jon can’t—think, his heart is too loud, his breath is too loud. He can hardly hear himself say, “What are you talking about? Jonah, I haven’t done anything!”

Jonah looks fond. “Dear Jonathan. Of course you haven’t. This isn’t about you at all.”

“Then—then—” What’s happening? Why is Jonah doing this?

“Ask me,” Jonah says.

“Jonah, no, I—” Jon doesn’t compel Jonah. He doesn’t. He loves Jonah, he trusts him, there’s no need—

“I want you to know that I am telling you the truth,” Jonah says. His voice is gentle.

Jon swallows. When he speaks, his voice is shaky. “Why are you doing this?”

Jonah closes his eyes, feeling the compulsion wash over him. He inhales, breathing it in deeply. He opens his eyes again, looking straight at Jon and they are still fond, but there is something—cold, in them. Something that sends a spike of fear through Jon’s stomach, that causes his chest to tighten.

“I find myself in a precarious position, Jon,” Jonah begins. “I have many enemies, and few resources to prevent those enemies from encroaching on the few holdings I possess. Given my disinheritance, I also don’t have any bonds of family loyalty to rely on in case one of my enemies gets greedy.

“I need power. Not the kind that comes from a massive army, because I simply don’t have enough subjects to throw into military service. I need the kind of power that an individual can possess. The kind of power that can only come from magic.”

They’ve discussed this before. How to consolidate power through magical means. It’s been the center of their studies since they’ve known each other, but—

“I know you’re confused,” Jonah says. “I’ve been working on a theory, recently, based on our studies of various kinds of emotional magic.”

Jon remembers those studies, but they didn’t yield anything conclusive. Emotional magic in general is more powerful than non-emotional magic, but as far as they could tell, no particular emotion was stronger than the others. And all forms were much harder to control.

“There’s something you don’t know,” Jonah says. “Since we began that research, I’ve been running my own experiments. I had this room constructed in secret, and I confirmed what I already suspected to be true—fear is by far the strongest emotion with which to cast magic. The tradeoff, however, as I’m sure you already guessed, is wild unpredictability. So, I began a new experiment: Is it possible to cast magic fueled by the emotions of another?”

Some kind of despair rises in Jon’s throat as he begins to see where Jonah is going. But he refuses to believe it. Jonah can’t—Jonah wouldn’t—

“The experiments were a success, with a single caveat: the strength of the magic I could cast with another’s fear directly correlated to the strength of the magic they could cast themself. I could become the most powerful mage of our age by far, but I would need another strong mage to act as a sort of... battery. And, well—” Jonah looks around the room, then back at Jon. “Here we are.”

“Jonah, that—What? You can’t be serious.”

“I am serious,” Jonah says. “This room is charmed, to keep you alive, no matter what. You won’t die for lack of food, or water. Any wounds you sustain will heal quickly. And age won’t be able to touch you. In spite of that, however, I’m afraid this will be a rather unpleasant experience for you. In order to be an effective battery, you must spend most of your time afraid. You’ll be alone, for the rest of your life, trapped here with nothing and no one to save you.”

Jon swallows, a hard lump forming in his throat. “You’re just—you’re just leaving me here? How—” How could you? He wants to ask, but that sounds horribly naive, now. He doesn’t know if he should laugh, or cry, or scream. He’s split between heartbreak and fear, and he can’t—

Jonah looks at him for a long moment as Jon tries to think of anything to say, and then he turns away. “Goodbye, Jon,” he says. And then he starts back toward the door. Leaving Jon—here.

“Jonah,” Jon says, starting after him, his voice breaking. “Jonah, don’t—Please, please Jonah, don’t leave me here, don’t—”

The chains clank, reaching their limit, and Jon strains against them. Jonah is leaving, and he can’t, he, he, he—

Jonah turns back, and something like hope stutters in Jon’s chest. His arms are pulled back behind him by the chains, his chest heaving with his too-fast breaths, desperate fallen tears wetting his cheeks. Jonah comes back to him, cards a hand through Jon’s hair. He places his hand against the back of Jon’s head, one finger scratching at his hairline. Then he leans forward, pressing his forehead to Jon’s.

“I will miss you,” he says, and then he lets go.

“Jonah,” Jon says, but Jonah doesn’t react in the slightest. “Jonah, don’t do this,” Jon tries again. Jonah reaches the door, and something in Jon breaks. “No, no, no, no, Jonah, please, please Jonah, no—”

Jonah opens the door, and Jon is screaming now. “Jonah, please—”

The door swings closed, and Jonah is gone.

Thunk.

Jon is locked in.

Forever.

It’s silent now, except for Jon, whose stuttering breaths sound very, very loud. They’re coming too fast, and he knows that, but what does it even matter?

Jon falls to his knees, his entire body trembling. His arms ache where they’re pulled so harshly behind him, but that doesn’t matter either, does it?

Jon is alone. No one is coming to save him.

Jon lets himself panic.

***

It’s intolerable, being trapped all alone in the dark. It’s intolerable, but after the first few days, after the thirst and hunger and aching cold and heartbreak all fade, it becomes a numb kind of intolerable. Jon lays on the floor, staring at nothing, drifting in and out of sleep.

It’s peaceful, in its own way. He thinks this might be what death is like, and he finds a bit of solace in the thought.

Then Jonah starts sending him visitors.

The first time the door opens, Jon’s heart surges with a manic sort of joy. Perhaps Jonah’s had a change of heart, perhaps he’s being rescued from this prison.

But the man who comes through the door is not Jonah. And he is not here to rescue Jon.

The visitors are all different, but they all hurt him. Slowly delivered cuts and deep, painful burns, and bruises upon bruises upon bruises.

His wounds heal quickly, but the fear remains. His dreams are unpleasant, his waking hours no better. He watches the door, constantly fearful of the next moment it will open, bringing some fresh pain with it.

No one comes to save him.

***

The visitors stop, and Jon doesn’t get an explanation. They have stopped, Jon is sure about that. For a long time, he thought Jonah was just letting him fester for a little while. Giving him a break from the pain while Jonah himself rested between battles, between campaigns.

But it’s been months now. Years, maybe. And no one has come.

He isn’t less afraid. He keeps wondering if Jonah has something worse than the visitors planned, something that Jon can’t even imagine. Even that is better than wondering if Jonah has just forgotten about him.

The thought brings him to tears, and Jon hates himself for it. Hates himself for missing Jonah, hates himself for how often he fantasizes about curling up beside him in the early morning, Jonah’s fingers combing through his hair, their bed soft and warm.

It’s so cold in the cavern.

One day, one of Jon’s chains breaks. One of the links just… crumbles to dust, leaving him with a heavy shackle connected to a rusty chain that isn’t attached to anything.

The other chain breaks not long after that. It doesn’t matter. The door is still bolted shut. Thunk. Jon tries it, just to be sure, and he works himself into a panic attack trying to force his way through the door. He didn’t think he had any panic left in him.

Still, it’s… better, sort of, being able wander the cavern at will. He wonders idly if Jonah will send someone to fix the chains. He remembers his plan, from so long ago, and practices swinging the chains around, trying to make them as lethal of weapons as possible.

He can only practice for a short time before he needs to rest, but it’s nice to be doing something. It’s nice to have a plan.

Then he swings the chain badly, carelessly. It hits his knee hard, and he falls to the floor, seized with fresh, sharp pain. Broken. It heals quickly, of course, but he’s still lying there for hours (days?) waiting for the agony to end.

He gives up practicing. It’s obvious by now that no one is coming.

A few weeks (months? years?) later, the iron has degraded enough Jon is able to pull most of the chain away from his shackles, leaving behind just a few useless links. It’s better, marginally, than dragging the long chains behind him.

He continues to be alone for a long, long time.

No one comes.

***

Voices.

Jon opens his eyes a crack, but the cavern is still just empty. The door is closed. Just his imagination, then. A dream, got too loud. He closes his eyes again, tries to get back to sleep.

The voices get louder, and now Jon can hear footsteps. Outside the door, getting closer.

His heart rate picks up, and he presses himself closer against the cold stone behind him. His hand drifts toward his chain, but by this point it’s so degraded that it won’t make much of a weapon.

If it’s a visitor, they’d probably enjoy watching him try to defend himself. It isn’t good, when they enjoy themselves.

But if it’s Jonah—

Jon dismisses the thought. It won’t be Jonah.

They’re more than one, judging by the noises outside. Grunting, straining. Struggling with the bolt on the door.

There’ve never been multiple visitors before. Jon swallows, shrinking into himself in fear. He should have known that this was only a break, that Jonah would eventually bring him more pain, worse pain.

The door swings open, and there are three that step through. He doesn’t recognize any of them, although they all look like people. Once, Jon would have taken comfort in that.

It takes a little while for them to spot Jon, hidden as he is in the shadow of the stone. They’re clearly impressed by the vastness of the cavern, talking excitedly to each other. One of them has a notepad that she is scribbling furiously onto.

The shortest one spots him first, followed by the one with a sword at his hip. They both nudge the notepad one, and then three pairs of eyes are trained directly on him. They look like he’s doing something wrong, by being here, and he shrinks deeper into himself, wrapping his arms tightly around his ribs.

All three of them move forward, and Jon lets out a sharp gasp of fear. He can’t do this, not again, he can’t take it.

They stop, and the shorter one murmurs something to the other two. Then he approaches, alone.

He crouches down a few paces from Jon, well out of arms’ reach. It’s meant to put Jon more at ease, but Jon knows that distance isn’t necessarily protection from the kinds of things that visit him. “Hello,” he says, his voice soft.

Jon doesn’t respond, just keeps watching him closely while also keeping an eye on his friends. When they decide to attack, it will not come as a surprise to him.

“I’m Martin,” he says. “What’s your name?”

Ah, so they’re that kind. The kind whose torment comes from names and identity, confusion. Jon isn’t going to make their game easier for them.

“Okay,” Martin says, if if Jon had actually given him an answer. “That’s Tim and Sasha,” he gestured to the other two, who both smiled when he looked over. “Um, we’re researchers?” Martin continued. “Well, Sasha is, anyway. We’re studying the ruins here, comparing the surviving architectural details to the extant descriptions of various homes that belonged to the Lukas estate. And uh—” he laughs, but not with humor. It’s higher-pitched, almost manic. “We really weren’t expect to find any living things, other than mice, so you’ve given us a bit of a shock.”

Jon just stares at him. What is he talking about? Researchers? Are they trying to get his guard down by—by confusing him?

“We don’t want to hurt you,” Martin says, raising his hands.

Jon can’t help it; he laughs at that. Do they really think he’s that stupid?

A complicated expression passes across Martin’s face. “Well, it’s at least good to know that you understand what I’m saying,” he mutters. He looks away, drums his fingers on his wrist a few times. Then he looks back at Jon. “It’s fine if you don’t trust us, but—can you at least tell us how you got here? Just, if there’s a group of, of bandits or something that hang around here, we’d rather be prepared for it.”

Jon narrows his eyes, looking from Martin to Tim and Sasha. What is the point of these questions? They know why he’s down here. They wouldn’t be here, otherwise.

“Right,” Martin sighs at his silence. “Listen, are you okay to walk? I mean, it’s a lot of stairs back to the surface, and I don’t want you to exhaust yourself, but—”

“To the surface?” Jon interrupts. His voice is rough from disuse, and he hardly recognizes it. “You, what—You’re taking me out?”

Martin nods. “I mean, not—Unless you’d rather stay here? We’re not kidnapping you or anything, but—”

Jon tunes him out, can’t listen anymore over the sudden buzzing in his ears. Jon—Jon doesn’t know what to do. What is this? A trap, or a test, or—

“Where is Jonah?” Jon demands, compulsion flowing from his mouth without him thinking about it, without meaning to. He didn’t know he even could, anymore.

But Martin is just blinking at him. “I don’t know. I don’t know who that is.”

Jon’s mouth is dry. “Who sent you here?”

“No one. I told you, we’re researchers. We came of our own accord, and found this cavern on accident.”

Jon’s heart is pounding, loud, loud, loud. “I don’t—Who is Lord of this castle?” Martin had said Lukas’ name earlier, hadn’t he? Was he the current Lord?

“No one,” Martin says. “The castle’s been abandoned for thirteen hundred years, at least. It’s not really even a castle anymore, just ruins.”

Jon stares at him, swaying slightly, feeling as if the entire floor has been pulled out from under him. Thirteen hundred years. He opens his mouth, closes it. What else is there to even ask?

Jon lets out a sharp laugh, then claps a hand over his mouth before it can turn to a sob. He muffles a harsh whimpering noise, then takes a deep breath, collecting himself. He feels fragile. He feels numb.

He pulls himself to his feet, and starts walking toward the door, chains still jingling around his wrists.

“Alright then,” he hears Martin mutter, getting up and following after him.

Tim and Sasha don’t stop him as he passes by them, although he does hear Martin stop and exchange a few words with them. Then he hears three sets of footsteps, following him.

Getting up the stairs is an ordeal. There are a lot of them, and he doesn’t have the stamina to get up more than ten at a time. At one point, Martin offers to carry him, but Jon doesn’t dignify that offer with more than a glare.

Eventually, they make it all the way up the stairs, and Jon sees—the place that once was his home. Except it’s different now. The tapestries are all gone, along with some of the walls. The soft, luxurious rugs have been replaced by creeping moss and weeds.

He finds the stairs, and begins the painstaking journey to the second level. The three start to follow him, but he stops them with a glare. “Please,” he says, and to their credit, they stay behind.

He goes to the bedroom, what’s left of it, where he would lay for hours, safe in Jonah’s arms. (Where Jonah betrayed him.) The bed is gone, of course, and tree branches creep in through the window where he once sat watching the sunset.

He lays down in the spot where the bed once was. Thirteen hundred years. Thirteen hundred years, plus however long before that he was already imprisoned. Thirteen hundred years, all alone, and Jon didn’t even know it.

Jon curls his arms around himself, arms that haven’t been near enough comfort for centuries now. He doesn’t want to see Jonah again, except for how he so desperately does. He wants warmth, comfort, safety. He wants his home back. He wants for none of this to have ever happened.

He lets himself cry, and for the first time in such a long time, it’s a choice that actually matters.

***

He wakes up, and it’s dark. Not the dim-dark of the cavern, but a new kind of dark. A moonlit darkness. He looks out the window, and through the canopy of trees overhead, he can see stars.

Oh.

He’s forgotten about stars.

He heads back downstairs, and to his surprise, the three are still waiting for him. They’re seated on the floor, a lantern lit between them. Tim and Martin are talking in a low voice, heads dipped together. Sasha is laying on her belly, scribbling on her notepad.

The conversation stops when he enters the room, the four of them all just staring at each other.

Jon feels awkward, all of a sudden. It’s been so long since he’s had to talk to people. He doesn’t know what to say, where to begin.

But Martin saves him from that. He smiles at him, says, “Hey.”

“Hello,” Jon says, trying a small smile of his own.

Tim stretches, yawning massively. “Right, well now that we’ve got this one, how about heading back to the hotel?”

“Sounds great,” Sasha says, flipping her notebook shut.

“Uh,” Martin looks at Jon. “How do you feel about that? Are you okay with leaving?”

“Not permanently,” Tim says. “Just to sleep somewhere where there are actual beds.”

“Yes, that sounds—fine,” Jon says.

They lead him outside, and he shivers in the cold nighttime air. He’s well-used to the cold by now, but Martin notices.

“Here,” he says, holding out the soft blue cloak he’s been wearing around his shoulders. “I don’t want you to be cold.”

Jon takes it, a little hesitantly, and wraps it around his shoulders. It’s warm, and more than that, it’s soft. Jon wants to sink into the feeling, revel in it forever. But they’re still moving, so he keeps following.

Jon expects that they will have horses, and is a bit shocked to see their ‘car.’ He swallows his questions about it, taking a seat beside Martin. He can’t stop himself from flinching when the engine roars to life, but after that it’s—nice. It’s warm, inside the car, and he leans against the window, bunching up Martin’s cloak to use as a pillow.

He drifts off, warm and safe and surrounded people who will eventually become a new home.

#tma #tma fic #febuwhump #febuwhumpday3 #my fic #jonelias #fantasy au #kidnapping cw #chains cw #emotional torture cw #violence cw #injury cw #broken bone cw #time cw #abusive relationship cw

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