#with nothing to do to protect him except give him a cloak to keep him warm….

[hythlodaes]

junelezen day four - departure

[skulls-soul]

🧡💚Once again, imagine with me 💚🧡

There’s a mysterious figure that has been coming to the koopa castle recently

Everyone was very wary of the man who wore a mask and a cloak with simple, loosefitting clothing except any concerns of intentions from him was quickly dispersed once everyone found out that Bowser’s the one who brought him in one day, showing him around the castle proudly so he couldn’t possibly be an enemy no matter how suspicious he looked…right?

He was also terribly kind and soft-spoken, barely ever speaking, any louder than just above a whisper

The staff questions about the man shifted from why is he here and what does he want to who is he and how did Bowser find him?

Especially since they saw Bowser holding the mysterious figures hand, especially when Bowser would have brunch with him, requesting everyone even Kamek to knock on the doors before entering, just in case, if said, mysterious figure was with him.

After some time, people finally somewhat got a title, although everyone knew it was nothing but an alias since “Mr. L” is clearly not his true name

—

I was thinking about how most fan fictions had Bowser and Luigi being public knowledge to the castle’s employees and how cool it would be if Luigi was like this mysterious figure that nobody knew about because Luigi said how he wanted to keep the relationship a secret and Bowser said how he wanted to (insert excuse for the Weegee to go to the castle here( lol I couldn’t decide on anything))

so for a compromise, Luigi would go in disguise, wearing nothing of his usual clothing, except for his boots and color scheme

I can Just imagine all of the shenanigans

Bowser just wanting to shower Luigi with love and kisses but they can’t because they’re “ “in the library right now”” and there are too many people to successfully give him a proper smooch

Bowser’s at some point is like fuck it I don’t care there’s a mask in the way I’m gonna kiss you anyways or maybe giving Luigi kisses on his knuckles and honestly anywhere he can without revealing his identity

Or how about Luigi jumps on Bowser’s for protection because the Koopalings really wanna know who this mysterious man that’s dating their father is 

 Sometimes the castle cards can spot the hidden plumber, running away from the bundle of Koopalings 

Luigi is use to being in the shadows, so he’s subconsciously sneaky, which causes many of the staff to jump when he “ suddenly” appears

 imagine if one day Mario and peach go to Bowser’s castle because they were wondering what the fuck he was doing because he hasn’t kidnapped anybody in a hot minute only for Luigi to also be there but in disguise and mario was like “who is this” for Bowser to respond with “none of your goddamn business”

peach very politely, (as always) walks up to Luigi and just introduced herself  Luigi shakes her hand, but doesn’t say anything and only just shifts and shuffles to hide behind Bowser

Mario is looking at him like if he’s trying to decipher some type of optical illusion which just causes Luigi to cower behind Bowser, like a baby chick, hiding its mothers wings. Bowser (ever the wonderful boyfriend he is.) SCOLDS THEM FOR SCARING HIM!!! ( omg I’m dead, literally I’m having so much fun with this idea)

Imma call this au “ the koopa king’s hidden gem”

If you have your own thoughts or ideas for this and want to then by all means do share I’d love to hear them





[distortionbobble]

Royal Flowers Chapter 8

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series masterlist

pairing: anakin skywalker x fem!poc!reader

summary: A long, long, time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, a certain Jedi by the name of Anakin Skywalker meets you, the current Queen of Naboo and cousin of Padme Amidala, and is tasked with protecting you by pretending to marry you. As a spy, you’ve infiltrated the Separatist ranks and are close to finding out the mastermind behind all of it. The fate of the galaxy is in your hands.

warnings: minors dni, some mentions of gore, guilt, trauma (who is surprised. please), angst, a shower scene but it's really unsexy except for anakin on his knees series will have eventual smut, canon level violence, etc etc.

a/n: tagging makes me feel a type of violence that is historic in nature. not beta read. any comments and reblogs and all are so so appreciated thank u so much for reading

You never realized how intertwined grief and guilt are before now. Anakin allows you to pretend that you’ve fallen asleep as he hoists you into the speeder with Obi-Wan, stroking your feverish forehead with his cool metal hand. He’s draped you in his cloak, hiding the blood on your clothes. If Obi-Wan knew you were awake, he’d ask you questions, questions that you wouldn’t have the strength to answer. Anakin lays you down gently with your head on his lap, a comfort you don’t think you deserve. 

You keep remembering the spray of blood on your face, its metallic, coppery scent staining you forever; you did that. You took away her life, forever, without hesitation, without stopping. While it felt like a blur in the moment, it feels crystal clear now: the sight of your hands, tangled in the roots of Reyna’s hair, blood muddying the sand as dark rivulets formed from the pool of blood forming from Reyna. And that lifeless look in her eyes, the one she had before you had actually managed to kill her… she wasn’t afraid. She knew you were going to kill her. She knew she was dead before her heart managed to stop beating. 

The thought of that alone terrifies you. So you cling tighter to Anakin’s thigh, a shiver running through your body as you try to hide from your guilty conscience. He says nothing, just holds you tighter; you imagine he’s doing the work of shielding both yours and his emotions from Obi-Wan. You feel guilty that you can’t even muster the energy to care. Reyna’s face haunts you in the dark space of your eyelids every time you blink. There is nowhere to hide from her, from your guilt. 

Anakin can feel your turmoil. He strokes the top of your head, hand shaking as he tries to hide his own sins. How many bodies has he buried, now? If he hadn’t been talking with Obi-Wan, distracted by the thought of you instead of living in reality, would he have been able to protect you from Reyna? That, too, scares him. When did death become his shadow? 

“It has been a long time since you last meditated, young Anakin,” Obi-Wan comments quietly, just barely audible over the hum of the machinery. Anakin wonders if Obi-Wan can see the movement of his hands, the way that he’s seeking comfort in you. He hates that Obi-Wan is right about this whole thing. This is attachment. He’d do—did— dark things for you. But if it’s so dark to keep you safe, to protect you, how can the darkness be all that bad? It’s tearing him apart. All he knows now, all that makes sense to him now, is keeping you safe. Whether it’s for himself or the galaxy is a question Anakin does not have an answer to. 

“How can you tell, Master?” Anakin asks. You’re restless on his thigh and, worried you’ll give yourself away to Obi-Wan, he quickly brings his hand over your face, willing the Force to send you into a dreamless sleep. Some peace for you, he hopes. Obi-Wan does not answer his question immediately, only giving him that knowing smile that drives him absolutely mad sometimes. 

“You forget, Anakin, that I know you just as well as I know myself. Even if you have hidden your Force Signature from the world for the protection of the Queen, you cannot hide your emotions from me. They are written plainly on your face,” Obi-Wan responds finally, placing a gentle hand on Anakin’s shoulder. He knows it’s meant to guide him, comfort him, but it just feels… oppressive now. All Anakin can think about is getting you to somewhere that no one can hurt you, where you won’t have to put yourself through what you did ever again. His selfishness tears through him, cuts into pieces his resolve and wish to be a good Jedi. “Anakin, I… I worry for you. In this lonely palace, with only the Queen to keep you company. The Force will never abandon you, Anakin, but you must take care not to abandon it. There is light within you, light that you must foster and protect.” 

“And what happens to that light if I’ve done something horrible, Master?” Anakin asks quietly, trying desperately to find that light within him. Maybe it was snuffed out long ago. Obi-Wan seems stunned by his question, but Anakin’s question remained. Everything that happened today has brought his past to the forefront of his mind. The Sand People, his obsession over Padme… maybe there never was any light in him. 

“It is never too late to turn back to the Light, Anakin.” Obi-Wan doesn’t press further. For his own sake or for Anakin’s, Anakin doesn’t know, but the guidance soothes him anyways. He’s tired. The cold of Tattooine’s desert at night has caught up to him, so many years later, sinking into his skin, threading through his tissues until his heart pumps sluggishly. 

“You and the Queen look unwell,” Obi-Wan observes. “Perhaps the both of you can get some rest, and I’ll talk to Padme to get a lead on which Ministers we can use.” 

“Padme’s here?” Anakin asks. He’s acutely aware of the unchanging pace of his heart, the steadiness of his breath and he realizes that his love for her has faded. All that remains is a genuine, pure fondness for her. It only makes him feel more hollowed. “Give her my regards, will you, Master?” Obi-Wan nods wordlessly as the speeder reaches the service entrance of the palace. Anakin rouses you quickly, the short window of time serving as cover for your silent departure.

Your bleary eyes take in the palace groggily, the beautiful stone walls seeming more and more like a prison as your knees buckle. Before you can fall, Anakin lifts you into his arms, hooking one arm under your knees and the other across your back. You feel safe in his arms, a temporary comfort as he sneaks the both of you back to your chambers. 

By some sheer luck, you reach the room completely undetected. Anakin sets you down and ushers you to the shower. Anakin had done his best to wipe the blood off of you, but it stains you still. The sight of it confronts you as you look at yourself in the bathroom mirror, rings of blood and tired eyes staring back at you. Anakin, noticing the unforgiving scrutiny of yourself, turns you away from the mirror and begins to ease the clothes off your stiff form. He’s hesitant but there’s no choice— you aren’t in the state of mind to be able to take care of yourself, and the longer you stay like this, with the dirt of your crime still smeared on your body, the worse you get. 

“Do you think I’m a monster?” You ask him softly as he undoes the last piece of clothing, leaving you bare to him. The physical vulnerability does not cross your mind as he guides you into the steam of the shower, studying you for a moment before he realizes you shouldn’t be alone. Privacy is not a luxury you can afford right now. He washes his hands, still caked in blood and sand, and joins you in the shower. 

“No, my queen. I think you were forced to make choices that no one should have to make. I think you’ve done your best to keep your conscience,” Anakin responds. He washes his hands and brings them to your face, wiping the blood and dirt from your cheeks with his thumbs. Your eyes flutter shut from his gentle touch, overwhelmed by the intimacy of his care. He moves slowly to your shoulders and neck, easing away the tension in your muscles with each knead of his hand. Your eyes look downwards, to the foamy stream of red dripping off of your body, but Anakin catches the movements and directs your gaze back to his eyes. The spray of the water soaks his clothes, making it cling to his skin as he gently cleans your face. “Hey,” He says quietly. “Forget about that. Just look at me, okay?” You nod, and he quietly washes any blood from your arms. He does it delicately, keeping his eyes fixed on yours even as water drips from his eyelashes onto his cheeks. The shower stream drenches him, making his hair plaster to his forehead, but he doesn’t look away, even as he works down your body, getting to your legs. He’s respectful about it, doesn’t break his gaze away from your face as he kneels at your feet. And from your feet, looking up at you under the harsh bright light of the shower, he thinks that you look like a terrible goddess—powerful, so powerful, burdened with a task that will forever remain thankless. You are a remorseful goddess, the deity of those who never got to keep their humanity. Beyond the hollow sheen of your eyes, he sees it all; the guilt, the sadness, the knowledge that you’ve done something that will stain your soul forever. He cannot look away, captivated by you and the sheer energy you hold. To Anakin, this is right; this subservience to you, bowing at your feet because there is some part of your spirit that demands respect. 

But even goddesses stumble. The distant look in your eyes makes him stand without second thought, holding you up before you crumble into his chest. You shed no tears, merely closing your eyes as Anakin holds you to his body, surrounding you in warmth with the help of the warm water. The warmth of being next to you, the privilege of holding him warms him even as the soaked cloth clinging to his skin chills his bones. He hesitates before he slowly puts his chin on your head, holding you tightly as you breathe shallowly. 

“Remorse is a luxury few can afford,” you mumble into his clothes. Anakin knows you’re right, but Maker, if you don’t deserve that luxury, no one does. Your breathing slows and deepens as you regulate your emotions and distance yourself from it all. 

You are a monster. It couldn’t be clearer to you. Anakin’s handling of you as though you are made of glass only shows his revulsion. He must have held you out of fear, out of responsibility, but it’s a kindness you do not deserve. Is the value of a life worth so little to you? It wasn’t a clean death. It was messy, vengeful, and there was no walking back from this guilt. You killed someone. You’re no better than the woman you killed. 

And then you look into Anakin’s eyes. Eyes like the oceans, like the horizon of a clear blue sky. Eyes filled with compassion, softness, and you realize that you don’t regret your bloodshed. You’d do it again to protect him. To protect his goodness, and the goodness just like his, you’ll take the sins of the world as your own. You’ll become something awful, metamorphosize into something unrecognizable to those who loved you, but it’ll be worth it. Deep down, you’ve always known your fate was something like this; you are a lamb, raised for slaughter. You’ve been staring at the knife that will bring your death for so long. It only makes sense; the death of the Queen of Naboo would only serve the final blow to the people of Naboo. They’d be left defenseless, with no protection against the Separatists, who’d tear the planet apart. You’ll die at their hands or someone else’s, you’re certain. But here, you feel as though your death will mean something. To protect Anakin, to protect Padme, and all the others that you’ve loved in the small moments of kindness that you’ve borrowed from them. You’ll kill, again and again, and be killed, for their sakes. 

“I must see Padme and Obi-Wan,” You say, pulling away from Anakin’s embrace. Your movements are swift, methodical as you get dressed. You’ll act as though nothing happened. You’re a monster, you might as well act the part. You don’t want to see the expression on Anakin’s face as he watches you return to normalcy. You’ll protect him from your guilt, too. “Don’t stay in your wet clothes for too long, you’ll fall sick,” You add. You don’t deserve to care for him, but you care anyway. He’s silent for a beat before he responds. 

“Their meeting is secret. You’ll find them in the hidden passageways of the palace, known only to the Queens. Obi-Wan was led there, but I’m sure you know where to go,” Anakin states. He sounds tired, but you don’t have time to dwell on that. You bid a quick farewell, and head to find Padme.  

~~~

“Padme’s told me that the Political and Economic Advisor Horace Vansil is trustworthy,” Obi-Wan informs you as you join the duo in the shadows of the secret passageway. The lit beacons flicker some distance away from you, casting shadow on to your figure. You’re grateful for it. Padme can read you like a book, so you can only hope that the lowlight will obscure the numbness upon your face. 

“We’ll task him with increasing the import of grain and long-term food sources, then,” You conclude. There’s levels to your response, but you need to be prepared. And to be prepared, you need to be detached. Cool. Collected. 

You blink, and Reyna’s face, bloodied and bloated from death smiles at you in the darkness. She’s laughing, lips pulled into a grotesque, mocking smile. She’ll get away with it, she’s telling you. Listen, she says. Listen to me. You’ll fail. You’ll fail them all. We’ll kill you last, so you’ll have to watch them die before you. You shudder involuntarily. 

“...Milady?” Obi-Wan asks, snapping you out of your nightmarish trance.

“Apologies,” You say, blinking rapidly to refocus. Obi-Wan’s scrutiny is unforgiving, but you pay it no mind. “Yes. We’ll do it,” You respond absently. Padme also looks oddly at you, but says nothing on the subject. 

“There’s one more thing,” She adds. “Something is off about Chancellor Palpatine. I can’t place it but he seems more antsy these days. Getting much more involved in the business of not only Naboo, but nearly every planet and system that has any power in the Republic. It’s… odd, to say the least.” “Speaking of the Republic,” You respond, recalling the interaction you had with Darth Sidious, “there’s something odd that Darth Sidious said to me. He said our forces will be too occupied to help Naboo. I believe that like with the government of Naboo, there’s someone with great power in the Senate who is more than they seem.” Padme nods. “I’ve gotten the same feeling. Things are changing, and I don’t think we have much time left.”

“We’ll give them what they want, then,” You sigh. “If I can arrange a visit to Coruscant, I’ll be in a vulnerable-enough position for them to want to make a move. If we can draw out the mole, we can act.” 

“Padme, your suspicions of Chancellor Palpatine… will Anakin’s friendship with him jeopardize this in any way?” Obi-Wan asks. 

“On the contrary,” You smile bitterly. “I think it could be of great help.”

“It’s settled, then,” Obi-Wan sighs. “You’ll have to come back to Coruscant.”

[switch-writer]

The Fate of the Cards

A/N: AHHH. Okay, despite all the requests I gotta do, I THINK THIS IS A PERFECT PROJECT TO COME BACK ON. THIS IS MY PART IN A ART/WRITING TRADE WITH @giggly-toybox WHO IS A SWEETHEART. Genuinely give them a follow. BUT! They’re the biggest Basil Hawkins and X Drake fan around, and they deserve some fun shenanigans 😤 BUT THANK YOU FOR THE PATIENCE AND I APOLOGIZE IF ITS SHORT. And I hope you enjoy very much🫶🫶

Ah, yes, The Supernovas, otherwise known as the worst generation, were known to be… aggressive. Monstrous pirates of thieves and brutality… similar to the warlords in a weird way, except the worst generation weren’t Government dogs.

Not that most warlord’s did their jobs anyways… But that’s besides the point.

The point is that the supernovas were brutal pirates who wouldn’t team up for nothing. Not a chance. At least that’s what most would assume. Yet, here they were, Basil Hawkins, the blonde who happened to enjoy tarot card readings, and X Drake, the former marine who swapped sides and who’s since been a pirate.

These two were… reasonable enough to get together and make a strange sort of team despite differences. Although they argued a bit. Drake was more quiet, so was Hawkins… but Hawkins certainly didn’t hesitate to ask questions and came across as harsh. But didn’t most Captains? Especially since X Drake would give him the same attitude back.

“Relax, Hawkins.” X spoke with his usual calm, dead serious tone. While Hawkins typically had that same tone, Drake managed to get him worked up. Over what you may ask? “I refuse to believe that you won fair and square.” Basil accused harshly. This wasn’t what he predicted after all! It had to be cheating!

“Then keep not believing it. Doesn’t make it any less true.” The former Rear Admiral spoke with a careless tone, scoffing in slight disbelief. “Are you actually upset?” Hawkins shot a glare towards the man in response, making it clear he was upset.

“…Oh come on.” X spoke with a deadpan tone, but nodded slowly. “Lighten up, Hawkins, I don’t want to—“ He was cut short by the tarot reader tossing the poker cards of sorts at him.

Silence… a long… dreading… moment of silence.

“Basil Hawkins.”

“…If I had to assume, something tells me that was the wrong choice.” Hawkins spoke calmly, but his eyes showed uncertainty. Was this supposed to be what his previous reading was about?

Drake kept his cold stare as Hawkins slowly shifted his foot, ready to dash if the situation called for it.

“Do those cards tell you when to run? Because only a fool would sit here.” X Drake spoke.

“…Does that mean—“ “yes, it means run!” And suddenly, the zoan devil fruit user dashed forward, and if Hawkins didn’t go in slight shock, he would’ve squawked. However, he didn’t! Instead, he had let out a much more manly noise! Instead of a squawk, he gasped dramatically and then yelped like a dog as he stumbled backwards and began to run.

The long haired Blondie found himself rushing around a room, practically playing tag and using a structure for ‘protection’ so you can’t be tagged. Except this wasn’t tag, in fact, it was cat and mouse. And Basil had no clue what happened when the cat caught him, the mouse.

“You… idiot—! Woah—!” Hawkins spoke with a strong spike of frantic nature in his tone as Drake attempted to fool him by double backing around the couch. “Don’t be stupid—! Stop playing this game!” Basil spoke harshly, attempting to be intimidating and tough.

“You accused me of cheating, I don’t take it lightly. And that was before throwing cards at me.” “You had to cheat—!” The paramecia devil fruit user accused. Which the man who had reddish-brown hair inhaled, before giving a slight smile.

“Accuse me of it, and I’ll do it—!” He claimed, suddenly jumping over the couch, his cape/cloak flowing in the force and wind from his dash and jump, and he almost tackling Basil, wrapping his arms around him as they stumbled together, Hawkins almost fell down as Drake caught both him and the card reader, getting strength in his position and firm in his stance.

And they were stable.

And silent. Hawkins didn’t want to say a word. No. He couldn’t. Or else the reddish-brown haired man would strike—

Suddenly, out of the blue, the man began to feel giggles bubbling in his throat, a smile twitching on his face, his body even feeling that tingly feeling, causing him to squirm. “H-Hehey—!” Hawkins reflectively squirmed upon recognizing the feeling. A ticklish feeling caused by the ‘former’ marine’s fingers.

“Didn’t run well enough.” Drake claimed cleverly before his fingers spidered up ‘the magician’s’ sides and ribs, causing the man to panic and finally let out built up bubbly giggles.

“Y-You’re sohoho insuhufferable!” Hawkins scolds, attempting to remain tough despite it failing miserably. He was a bunch of giggles! And now that the giggle dam broke, it couldn’t stop.

But in response to his tough reply, X decided the best course of action was simple, his fingers teased and tapped across his ribs, occasionally making a stop to scribble between and on the sensitive nerves through there, causing a small squeak followed by soft giggling, and Basil squirming side to side, trying to get out of his grasp.

“Q-Quhuhuit it! Yohou’re a evil, awfuhuhul man—!” The insults kept flowing, and suddenly, Drake moved his hands, making them crawl up to his neck and spidering around his neck. Those feelings across Hawkins neck made him straighten up his hunched over posture and squeal, causing chuckles and a small soft laugh.

“Apologize.” Drake required in exchange for mercy.

However, the fellow pirate was quite stubborn! He refused, shaking his head and grabbing at the ‘X’ tattooed man’s hands in a strong attempt to win. “N-Nehever!” The man in the white wavy sleeved shirt stuck up his nose, showing strength…

Until the marine strikes right at his stomach, scribbling and wiggling his fingers across it, causing the almost electric sensations to spike. And within seconds, that brave face was a smiling one at the least, Hawkins laughing out as he slowly went to the floor, throwing his head back in laughter.

While he squealed, his actual laugh was deeper. Granted, it wasn’t as deep as his speaking voice, but it was still deeper than those girly and sweet squeals and squeaks that only a group of mice could hear.

Drake however was amused by it, his fingers moving quick and effectively, causing the man to squirm and curl up, practically rolling around.

“DRAKE—!” He called out, squeezing his eyes shut with a sweet smile, kicking his legs a little bit as he felt those fingers scribble and poke at his belly, causing more cackles and laughs. “PLEHEASE—!” The blondie softly spoke, his voice weak due to his breathless laughter.

“Hm.” Drake acknowledged, sitting on the man’s legs to prevent him from rushing off, but his fingers stopped. His hands pulled away as the man giggled breathlessly, his hair messily in his face.

“Y-You’re ehevil—!” “I could be worse.” The man reminds the giggling blonde pirate, who begrudgingly agreed. “…But I have no doubt you cheated.” Hawkins states, a wobbly smile upon his face.

…He was still on about this?

Admittedly… Drake wasn’t completely honest. His morals were honorable, but he may of… fibbed and happened to rig the cards in his favor. He was just surprised that the man who always had cards in his hand noticed so fast, or rather was consistent in his accusations.

But due to the man being so quick on his feet and keeping up his accusations, Drake felt himself get… flustered.

“No denial—!” Basil spoke out, causing Drake to immediately claw his hands at the soft tummy, causing the man with the power of straw to start laughing with a happy tone, he certainly wasn’t opposed to this currently. “I’ll shut you up! No cheating was involved.” The darkly dressed man who happened to wear a feathered hat spoke with authority… although a smile grew on his face as he kept tickling Hawkins.

“qUHUHUIT—! BUFFOON!” Hawkins yelped, squealing before scrunching his nose up, a bright smile on his face. “Apologize, then say I won fair and square.”

And the tickling ensued due to stubbornness, the blonde shaking his head before laughing, using his hands to cover his mouth, refusing to show his smile now, his laughter still vocal and quite lovely to listen to even if muffled.

But, during that monent, Drake striked by wiggling a finger right into his belly button, causing a snort to suddenly come from the usually cynical man’s throat. With that, more laughter flowed from Basil’s mouth, a finger teasing and tickling right at his belly button. It was driving him crazy!

But it stopped, causing the magician to slowly open his eyes, shocked it stopped. But the moment he opened his eyes, the zoan user lifted his shirt and brushed a feather across his belly, causing a squeaky sound of a laugh to leave his throat, and immediately. He caved.

“eHEHE—! IT’S FAHAIR!”

Yelled the tarot reader, causing the man holding a feather to raise a brow. “Hm?”

“…And I’m… begrudgingly sorry.” Hawkins spoke softly with a huff.

“Much better.” And for good measure, Drake gave him a congratulations stroke from the feather in his hand, causing the straw-man to tumble over with a small laugh, causing him to hold his belly to attempt to block tickles. “T-THAHAT’S ENough—!” He exclaimed with a laugh, his hands batting at him now.

And with a nod, the reddish-brown haired man moved off his legs, letting his breathing even out… and finally… he relaxed. They both relaxed in silence. Hawkins was sprawled out on the floor, and Drake sat calmly nearby…

“…I did cheat.”

“…” and a slow head turn with a glare occurred, and within a moment, the blonde was on top of Drake. “You’ll pay for feeding into a delusion!”

As dramatic and loud as his wording was, it was silly… and X Drake found enjoyment in challenging Hawkins… as for Hawkins… if anyone were to tickle him, he supposed it’d be best for it to be him…

Especially when he could get his revenge.

[tea-moon-ster]

Hello! Welcome to the fourth part of the Fantasy Magic Au (that still doesn't have a proper name!)

I think it's time for some québécois sprinkles. So, enter Logan.

Characters credits to @lumosinlove, prompt and hosting credits to @noots-fic-fests. read it on ao3 here.

It was a dark and stormy night.

Except that it was noon. And it was only raining slightly. Leo just read too many books.

But it was still a rainy day, with a strong wind coming from west that brought black clouds onto the Lion Shire. The forest waved and danced in the distance, a black and moaning mountain that did nothing to calm Leo’s nerves.

He had no idea where Roux was. He just knew that he was outside, and that an actual storm was coming that night. Roux never spent too much time outside with rain, and always made a point to come back during his longest wanderings, as if to tell Leo, see, I’m fine, don’t worry.

But Roux wasn’t coming back. And Leo didn’t know what to do.

That day, the cottage had been stormy even before the rain arrived. Leo woke up already tired, on the verge of tears for how little he’d slept that night. And Roux had been restless. For the weather or the birds outside or his own frustrations, growing with each day, Leo didn’t know. Then Leo had tried and failed another potion for Roux, with seaweed in it. Needless to say, it had been a fiasco and Roux had started hissing at it, before running outside and not coming back for hours.

Now.

Leo knew seaweed couldn’t taste good. And he knew that each fail made their cause feel more hopeless, useless, and pointless. It mustn’t have been easy for Roux to keep up with all the recipes, spells and incense baths Leo had put him through -or to trust Leo, still. Even more, the witch could see how disgruntled Roux would turn every time he caught himself behaving more and more like a cat. Truth was, he’d been in that body for months, and he was forgetting how to be anything else. That scared him more than all the failed attempts Leo threw on him.

Still, it had been hours. And he wasn’t coming back.

Leo tried to give him his own space, letting him have his well-owed existential crisis. Then he panicked and, with the excuse to go put a few protection spells on the oldest trees of the forest against the upcoming storm, he looked around for the cat. But nothing. He only gave up when the darkness became too engulfing even for his magic lantern and made his way back to the cottage. He felt silly for thinking that he would’ve found Roux waiting for him on their armchair.

Hours later, the storm was in full force, and Leo a nervous mess. He busied himself with potions, cleaning, cooking soups. He jumped at every small noise against the windows, already picturing a wet, red mass of fur and two big eyes looking up at him just like all those months ago. The memory made the weight on his chest even heavier.

Leo almost dropped the spoon in his hand when he heard knocking on his door.

He didn’t have the time to consider himself silly for thinking it could be Roux -cats don’t knock- as he reached the door in a few, long strides. But it could be a villager who’d found him or needed help. There could be damage caused by the storm, or the forest could be in danger. Instead, he found a man under a dark cloak -a traveler, then- trying to fit under his entrance and repair himself from the heavy rain.

“Yes?”

The stranger nodded from under the soaked cloak and, despite the storm, revealed his face to Leo. The witch didn’t say a word- he certainly didn’t expect to have his breath taken away by a pair of deep, green eyes. The vagabond squinted against the rain.

“Hello, I’m Logan.”

In the distance, a thunder rumbled, and Logan flinched.

“I’m looking for my friend.”

Leo tried not to stare too hard at the stranger in his living room. He was now engulfed in a warm towel, staring at the fire in front of him -or the soup heating on top, Leo couldn’t tell. The brown hair was curling more and more as it dried, and his cheeks were less pale, but he still flinched at every thunder.

When the soup was ready, Logan nodded a quick merci, and ate quickly. “Thank you,” he repeated once his bowl was empty. “Haven’t had a proper meal in days.”  Leo filled it again, of course.

Logan emptied the bowl in silence, and Leo studied him as he looked around the room. The décor gave him away: a few cauldrons were stacked in a corner, and his pointy hat was hanged next to the window. Piles of books on the table, maps of the stars and the planets on the walls. The witch shifted on his chair. In this land, witchcraft was widely accepted -protected, even- but he knew that in foreign countries it was a controversial topic. That’s why he was so far from home. But the traveler didn’t seem bothered.

A tentative, kind smile made Leo relax in his chair. Logan was clearly exhausted, but the way he carried himself, the hesitant politeness, the endless nods at every scoop to let Leo know the soup was good, did more to the witch’s nerves than all the remedies he’d tried that day. Logan cleared his throat as he put the bowl down.

“I know the rules of hospitality say to take care of a stranger before asking any questions, but thanks anyway. Haven’t found this kindness in many miles.”

“You must be coming from the Slytherin kingdom, then,” Leo guessed, and Logan nodded. He didn’t look happy about it, but no one ever did. Leo had been at the border a few times, accompanying Kasey during his apprenticeship. It was a strange, cold land. And extremely dangerous, many said. Especially Kasey. He didn’t want Leo to go there on his own.

“Ouais,” Logan continued. “I’ve been travelling for two months now. I come from Krios Kepék, and I’ve crossed the lands of Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. We’re still in Hogwarts now, yes?”

Leo nodded. “That’s a long way you’ve come.” He didn’t mean to push, but wanderers were rare, and Leo had never hosted one. Even if the rules stated that Logan now owed him his story, Leo could see how tired and worn out he was.

I’m looking for my friend.

“Yes,” Logan nodded again, looking down at the carpet. He traced the pattern with a socked foot. “Someone very important to me disappeared six months ago, and I still haven’t found any trace of him.”

“I’m sorry.”

The traveler shrugged. He took his time before continuing. “His name is Finn. He comes from my village, and we’ve been friends since I can remember. He’s in every memory I have, somehow, somewhere. He owns this bookshop with his brother, he loves books. They both do. His brother disappeared a year ago, and Finn was warned, because…well, we don’t exactly know what happened, but it’s said that dark magic was involved. That he upset someone. But Finn didn’t listen- of course he didn’t.” A frown was bothering his face now, green eyes fixed on the dancing flames.

“Was his brother a witch?” Leo asked softly.

“Is,” Logan corrected sharply. Leo bit his lip. Then Logan sighed, shaking his head. “No, no magic in their family. But he’s a writer, and he was doing research about witchcraft when he disappeared. Against the stigma, he said. But he did…he did see a witch, quite regularly. A native, who either visited or hosted him. But they were friends, worked together. No one would curse Alex if they knew him. And same goes for Finn.”

“Finn was trying to find his brother when he disappeared. Some—” he blinked rapidly, glancing down at his hands, “Some say he came too close to the truth. But no one would look too deep into it, not after two villagers vanished in so little time.” The traveler leaned towards the fire. Leo did that too, sometimes. When nothing would warm him, or heat was the only thing he was able to feel. “My…my family, our friends, they all told me to keep my head down. To keep working, worry in silence, stay safe. But after four months, I couldn’t take it anymore.”

A loud thunder, closer than the others, made Logan jump in his chair. Leo watched him close his eyes and inhale deeply. When green eyes slowly opened again, they were more tired than before. Leo didn’t have to look too deep to see the heartbreak in them. The fear, the sorrow. He wondered under how many storms had Logan walked, looking for his friend.

“There’s a guest room you can use for the night,” Leo murmured. And for the next, and the one after tomorrow. “I’ll get it ready for you. You really need some rest.”

Logan gave him another one of his polite nods, but before Leo could get up from his chair, a loud rumble made the windows tremble, and a firm grip stopped him by the wrist. The thunder echoed in the valley after a flash of white light. Logan was now breathing harshly, eyes shut in a deep frown and crouched on his seat, as if to make himself smaller against the storm. Leo immediately sat back down, taking both hands in his, and waiting for the boy to relax. When Logan did, his eyes were rimmed. From exhaustion, for his friend, the storm or being so far from home, Leo could only guess. He passed a reassuring thumb oh the back of a big, calloused hand.

“How about you help me fix the bed?” he asked softly. “And then we drink something hot to relax a bit.”

Logan looked up at him for a second before nodding. He got up with a deep breath, one last glance at the fire. He didn’t look like he would let go of Leo’s hand any time soon.

“Hot chocolate?” he asked hopefully.

Leo laughed quietly. “I have no cocoa in here, I’m sorry. But I have just the thing for you. No poison, I swear.”

Logan laughed too, and Leo decided to take it as his victory for the day. “D’accord. Lead the way.”

Outside the safe warmness of the cottage, the storm was still in full force.

Roux was still not home, and Logan’s friend was still lost.

But, as two pairs of hands flattened the blankets in the low candlelight, it was easier to think that even the darkest, rainiest days would pass.

.

.

.

[psychedelic-ink]

I know I've been making a lot of polls lately but in my defense, it has been helping me organize what to work on and it's always interesting to see what you guys prefer 💜

as always, brief summaries of every series listed below!

I've Got You Darlin'

you find yourself in the middle of a dangerous race of who will steal priam's treasure first; a mysterious cloaked figure who calls himself moon knight or a man in clad armor who calls himself the mandalorian. amongst the chaos, you and steven try to protect the remnants of history.

Ego & Black Powder

A prison guard shouldn’t be infatuated with a prisoner. Simple as that. But this new prisoner who you didn’t know the name of, made this rule very difficult to follow.

Million Dollar Man

Two years had passed since your break up with Jack, a fellow Statesmen agent. But everything re-ignites again when Champ asks you to go San Francisco to investigate the disappearance of multiple women across the country and, sadly enough, agent Malibu. While doing anything with Jack is chaos enough, you also run in to another ex, a man that actually showed you kindness and someone you thought you could spend the rest of your days with that is until he started asking too many questions about your job, Frankie Morales.

We Fall Like Snow

After the events that took place at the Cliff Beasts set, needless to say as his bodyguard (and friend) you became overprotective of Dieter. You have all your worries under control until you accidentally flip over a young fan by grabbing her wrist, causing the media to stir with speculations as to why. Luckily Dieter's family arrives in the nick of time, scooping you both from New York to their cozy cabin; however winter wonderland can't last forever and you need to face the consequences of your actions sooner or later.

Advanced Politics Of Human Sexuality

 He only saw you only once, before you moved away with your father, far from your mother but now you’re back with no clue what to do with the rest of your life.

The first time was an accident. One day Javi sees you getting out of the shower and can’t help himself. It’s not his fault you never heard of closing the curtains before. After that he should’ve stopped. You’re the daughter of his favorite house keeper after all. But he can’t help the way your body calls out to him again and again.

Blocked By Snow

With everyone out of town for the holidays, a lonely Santiago wanders the streets. His nightly walk leads him to your coffee shop.

Bound For Carnage

Dave lost everything: His divorce has been finalized. He sees his daughters only on the weekends. He has nothing except for the horrific job he keeps on doing just so he can give his children the best life that he can in such conditions.

But then, well, he meets you.

He tells himself it's nothing serious. It's clear that you like him and he flirts a little, some harmless fun. Never once did he think of taking you back to his place, he knows that if you seep through the cracks of his armor he's as good as gone.

But what happens when the little paper he receives has your name written inside of it instead of someone else?

[fanficwriting1]

A Tale of Smoke and Flame Chapter 5

Within the Lonely Mountain, Smaug shifted on top of his gold, sending gold cascading down the sides of the treasure mounds and filling the air with sweet music. 

He hummed with content. His choice in following the command he’d been given to take Erebor was a wise one. He’d been able to secure a comfortable home with little effort, and now was rarely ever disturbed. 

Settling back down, Smaug closed his eyes once more to sleep, when an oppressive presence descended upon him, darkening the treasure room, and forcing him to bow.

“The Steeds move.” a voice thundered. 

Smaug shuddered. It was a great voice, comparable to the screaming of a thousand anguished beings. It was the same voice he’d come to know over all the years within this mountain, the same one he had heard telling him to take Erebor. 

“Lord Raldag.” he said reverently, keeping his gaze upon the floor. He knew far better than to try and raise it. Defiance earned nothing from such a creature except for excruciating pain. 

“Dwarrow move towards this mountain as well. They must have decided to try and regain what they’ve lost; such pitiful creatures.” There was no pity within Raldag’s voice, but rather wicked glee. 

“Mathrien moves with them . . .” he laughed, cold and deep. “A very small form he has taken. I had feared he would’ve come with a greater force, cursed as he is, but it appears I was concerned over a frivolous matter, seeing as he has surrounded himself with such fragile creatures.”

“Should I destroy him, my lord?”

Mocking laughter echoed throughout the treasury, making the walls shake. “You? Destroy a Steed? What an amusing notion! Is a fly able to kill a dragon?”  

Smaug shuddered. “My apologies, Lord Raldog.” 

“There is no need to move yet. But then again, nothing can bring me quite as much pleasure as seeing his despair. That look on his face has always been quite  . . . addictive .” he hummed. “Send the wights, and ensure they take care of the children Mahtrien moves with. He’s always had a soft spot for children.” 

Smaug bowed. “I shall convey your command.” 

“Give the wights the shackle as well. It shall suffice to greatly weaken Mathrien.”

When Raldag’s presence lifted, Smaug collapsed, body trembling. Even in his weakened state, Raldag's simple presence was enough to make Smaug cower in fear - such was the power of a Steed. 

*

The creatures that emerged from the trees, made something in all the dwarrow shiver. 

Eyes that burned like a cold flame and black, wraithlike cloaks flowed across the ground they stood. Their movements were completely silent, save their soft chant.

“Block out as much noise as you can!” Bilbo called. “Put cloth or wax in your ears! And don’t let the barrows take hold of you.” The wights weren’t particularly dangerous, especially being with them so far away from the Downs. Their main powers were the paralyzing effect of their chants and their grips that would instill a cold fear and powerlessness in those they touched. 

The dwarrow scrambled to do as they were told, finally willing to listen to Bilbo. They picked up their weapons and Bilbo tsked. Weapons would have little effect, if any, upon the wights. 

The creatures surrounded the company, the fog making it difficult to see anything. The dwarrow backed into a protective circle, pushing the youngest of the group into the center.

With no small amount of surprise, Bilbo found himself yanked and then pushed into the center by Thorin. “Stay there.” He said before turning back to face the opening. 

Kili patted Bilbo’s back. “Don’t worry, Mr. Baggins, we’ll keep you safe.” 

Bilbo raised a brow. The young dwarrow spoke as if wasn’t in the center of the circle too. 

The wights converged upon the group, hands outreached.

Kili grasped his arm, pushing him behind him. “I’ll protect you, Mr. Boggins.”

Bilbo paused. Too often he found himself caught up in the similarities that Kili shared with her . The hobbits within the Shire embodied many of her traits because they were creations of Yvanna, but it was strange for a dwarf to embody many of them in such small ways that made him even more like her. 

Bilbo drew a small blade from his waist and pressed it into Kili’s hands. It was light and made of a pale thin blade, the hilt covered hard, green scales. “This should help you defend against the wights, it is effective to harm them.” The explanation was rushed, but he had no time to further it. The dwarrow had been pulled apart from the center by the wights, allowing them to force them further apart. Kili was lost in the mess of dwarrow, wights, and fog, and soon Bilbo stood by himself.

He found himself quickly confronted with a wight, one that, instead of grabbing him, stopped and stood in front of him.

“Steed.” it hissed.

“You should not be here, why are you not back at the downs?” Bilbo asked. He was still discomforted about their arrival, unnatural as it was. 

The wight locked eyes with Bilbo. “ He wishes you gone .” His voice was grating.

With that, Bilbo knew. There was only one way that the wights would’ve been able to leave - and that was through express permission from the Witch King, which in turn related to Raldag. He knew Bilbo was alive and that he was coming for him.  Bilbo growled. “He should know it takes more than mere wights to destroy me.”

“We have not been sent to kill you. We have been sent to send you encouragement.”  

Bilbo’s core warmed as he prepared to attack. But it was short lived as the wights gathered together once more. And just like that, the wights left as quickly as they had appeared. 

The company had been rattled, but unharmed by the wights, 

“Is everyone alright?” Thorin asked, perusing over the group. 

The dwarrow checked amongst themselves, checking. 

“Ori?” The call came from Dori. “Where’s Ori? I don’t see him.”

“Ori!” The shout came from Dwalin, who was looking extremely anxious, his eyebrows furrowed more than usual and his stoic mask slightly chipped.

It wasn’t too long after that another call came. “Fili? Kili?” Thorin yelled. 

There was a cough, and Fili stumbled out of the trees, 

“Kili and Ori! The wights got them!” Fili shouted, and the company burst into chaos.

“We pursue them at once!” Thorin yelled. 

“I already tried! They left no tracks!” Fili was as distraught as his uncle, 

The wight’s words replayed in Bilbo’s head. Encouragement. There was only one thing Raldag considered to be ‘encouragement’. “I can lead you to the Downs,” he called to the group. “I know the way through there.”

Thorin’s look was grim. “Lead the way, halfling.”

*

The trip was one made quickly. They were not to far from the Downs already. The company stood on the edge of the Downs and Bilbo turned to give them a warning before entering.

“It is not advisable to split from a group in these lands - the wights will try to get us to do so. For your sakes, do not stray from the group.” Bilbo looked at the dwarrow. He didn’t have much hope that they would listen, especially the Ri brothers. Their faces were drawn and their grips on their weapons were tight. He sighed. What occurred within the Downs would 

As the group ventured farther in, the smell of rain and damp moss grew, the moisture in the air sticking to their skin like a cold kiss. 

Bilbo led the group through the wandering hills, searching for the traces of the wights. The dwarrow murmured uncomfortably as the death-like state of the lands settled into their bodies. They could sense that something was wrong but were unable to pinpoint exactly what. 

“How soon will we be there, halfling?” Thorin growled. 

Bilbo made to respond when Dori cried out.

“I hear Ori!” Dori looked wildly, trying to see beyond the fog.

As he had said, a faint call could be heard. “ Dori! Nori! I’m over here !”

Without waiting, the Ri brothers barged away.

“Dori! Nori!” Thorin yelled, but they had already disappeared into the swirling mist. Thorin cursed. 

“Uncle? Fili?” Another call came from their right.

“It’s Kili!” cried Fili.

“Kili!” Thorin shouted, moving to head towards the call.

Bilbo grabbed his wrist. “I would remind you to heed my previous warnings, Master Oakenshield. What you hear are the wights, your nephew is not in that direction.”

Thorin’s face furrowed. He was torn, deciding between whether to trust Bilbo or head after the call. Bilbo hoped he would do the former.

“Uncle!” Came the cry again.

“That’s my nephew, halfling. I shall not leave him to perish.” Thorin shook off Bilbo. “Dwalin, Gloin, Bofur, and Bombur, go and support the Ri brothers. The rest of you are with me.”

Bilbo cursed. The dwarrow were much more stubborn than anticipated, and their actions would only serve to increase the difficulty of any solution. He continued on his way, however. The wights would inevitably take the dwarrow to the main barrow, and he intended to be there when that occurred, to rescue the dwarrow from themselves as it seemed they were prone to diving headfirst into danger.

He found his way easily, the fog parting easily as his core warmed and a breeze blew through. 

The door that barred the barrow was old and large. Chains and lock strung over it but were of no concern to Bilbo as he nearly ripped the door out of the stones around it. Wind hissed out of the barrow, smelling stale and of death. The dark within seemed to beckon him, reaching to curl around his ankles. 

He stepped in, vision being clouded near immediately. He sniffed the air, searching for the pungent scent of the wights. They weren’t too far away. His vision sharpened, allowing him to navigate without falling.

Despite looking small from the outside, the inside of the barrow seemed to be a labyrinth. Bilbo wasn’t surprised that even if a person did escape the wights, they would have difficulty finding their way back out. 

Bilbo turned a corner, to be met with the sight of the wights and the dwarrow that had so foolishly run off. 

The dwarrow had already been incapacitated, piled on top of one another in a corner, 

Kili and Ori were laying on the ground, dressed in ceremonial jewels and clothing. The wights surrounded the unconscious dwarrow.  He knew what the wights intended to do, and had no plans to let them do so. 

Bilbo slid through the wights and aimed for Ori. Grasping the dwarf’s ankle, he yanked him away from Kili, tossing him over to the other dwarrow. 

The wights hissed as he made to grab Kili as well, and took hold of them, their grasp cold. It would be easy enough to deal with them with his core. Although it wasn’t something he had originally planned on showing to the dwarrow, he’d given the only thing that he could currently harm the wights with away to Oakenshield. His core warmed in anticipation, but before anything occured, a soft click sounded and something cold was pressed against his ankle. 

 His core immediately cooled, and a force suppressed his power. He gasped as the dark feeling spread through his body, and he fell to his knees.  “What’s this?” he hissed. A chill flowed through him, seizing hold of his body.

The wights surrounded him, grabbing and dragging him to the other dwarrow, casting him on the floor with them. His body, taken hold by a strange weakness, lay pliant upon the floor as he tried to force himself to his feet, trying to awaken his core. His breaths came in short spurts and his mind numbed.

The wights began their chant, soft words spoken in dead voices. 

Cold be hand and heart and bone,  

And cold be sleep under stone: 

Never more to wake on stony bed, 

Never, till the Sun fails and the Moon is dead. 

In the black wind the stars shall die,  

And still on gold here let them lie, 

Till the dark lord lifts his hand 

Over dead sea and withered land. 

The wight raised the blade over Kili. 

Bilbo watched as the sword rose, and suddenly it wasn’t Kili but a young woman with green eyes and a complexion of the earth. He looked at Bilbo, reaching, desperate, eyes full of unshed tears, before a clawed arm shot through her chest, ripping out her core, and shattering it. 

Bilbo growled at the memory, rage roaring to life. A faint sputter of warmth came from his core and he used it to stumble to his feet, making towards the table, but darkness surged from below again, dousing his core and sending him tumbling to the floor, the pain was akin to the pain he felt when he’d changed - the feeling of having one’s innards gouge out. He was unable to do anything but reach towards Kili’s sleeping figure. 

The blade reached the highest point . . . and dropped.

An animalistic roar came from Oakenshield as he fought like a man possessed, breaking through the strange force that had overcome the dwarrow. He lunged towards the wights but it was too late. 

The blade sunk into Kili’s heart.

There was a crash and part of the burrow was opened, flooding in sunlight, to which the wights screeched at, cowering and fleeing. A shadowed figure stood at the opening and leapt in, landing lightly upon the ground.

The dwarrow released from the wights' influence, scrambled to Kili, shouts and yells coming from the group, desperately trying to stop the flood flowing from Kili. All Bilbo could hear and see, though, was the man that had entered the burrow. His core warmed and he gained enough strength to rise to his feet, albeit weakly.

Hair akin to clean ash and silver eyes, Bilbo’s dragon-core thrummed. It couldn’t be. After so many years of searching . . . “Estien?” he whispered.

The elf dropped to his knees, bowing before Bilbo. “My liege.”  

[m1ckeyb3rry]

STOP! THANK YOU! I love when someone says skmeth8ng about art!

Also drop those spark notes, I’m too impatient 😭🤭

IT’S SO PRETTY YOU’RE SO TALENTED!!! Sorry for taking forever to respond the sparknotes were extensive 😭

OKAY SPARKNOTES TIME:

Swear

— with may ducat’s help, Y/N escapes solitary confinement and they go to help rescue eren from reiner and bertholdt

— Y/N pretends like she reciprocates bertholdt’s feelings so that he lets down his guard and she manages to free eren but is injured in the process, the scream scene is basically the same as it was in promise i think but I’m undecided whether she and eren would’ve kissed and gotten together at that point or not

— the first part of season 3 is also generally the same as promise was except levi is the one that kills rod reiss as he promised to do so right after Eren’s trial and Y/N becoming the commander of the first interior squad wasn’t a surprise, it was actually historia’s condition for becoming queen

— after rod reiss dies, levi gives Y/N a dagger so that in some way or another he’s always protecting her

— she confronts lord maiar (the one she was like engaged to??) and he threatens her life, which allows her to lawfully kill him as because she is his fiancée, by threatening her he is technically attempting to end his own family’s line of succession, so as his fiancée she is able to attempt to kill a family member of equal importance to him as herself (which is him) (it’s complicated but it’s basically the same rule that gave lord maiar control over her father’s family line after he killed her mother, lmk if you want me to add the direct quote explaining the law)

— during return to shiganshina, Y/N is ‘killed’ while fighting the beast titan with levi. floch saves her instead of erwin and levi has to choose between her and armin; he ends up choosing Y/N so she inherits the colossal titan instead of armin

— when they reach the sea, Y/N finds an oyster and decides to keep it because she thinks it’s a cool shell or something idk it’s just a memento for her

— while visiting marley with the scouts, Y/N and levi end up together by themselves while everyone is drunk because they’re the #responsible friends, she asks him if things between them would’ve been different if she wasn’t a lady/noble and he’s surprised but tells her no, eren then leaves as per canon which ofc upsets everyone especially Y/N

— attack on marley follows canon but it’s Y/N instead of armin, sasha is the one who dies at gabi’s hand

— during the table scene eren tells Y/N that she would be nothing without bertholdt and that she took everything from him (she is still wearing the black cloak at that point as well as having the colossal titan) and she also is the reason armin died and she’s unable to protect anyone

— Y/N is the one to find levi and save him from the jaegerists, they are together when the rumbling begins and consider just hiding away but they both know they can’t ofc

— i believe the rest of season 4 would’ve progressed like it did in canon

— once everyone else has been turned into titans and Y/N enters the paths, she meets eren and he tells her that armin was the true savior of humanity before having her open the oyster she found at the sea, revealing a pearl in it (pearls in this story represent justice), Y/N realizes that she has to find justice no matter what and returns to the present timeline

— on falco’s back, she thanks levi for helping her believe in herself, helping her be strong, and for giving her his dagger. She then takes off her black cloak and gives it to him before going into the mouth of Eren’s titan and apologizing before swearing that she won’t leave him ever again

— using Levi’s dagger, she stabs herself through the heart and uses the pain to transform on final time, knowing that it’ll end the curse of Ymir and she won’t be able to regenerate, effectively killing both herself and eren

— the reason why it works is because ymir chose levi to watch over, and when he chose Y/N over armin back in Shiganshina, he chose love over justice; however, when he doesn’t try to stop Y/N from killing herself for justice his mistake is fixed because he chose justice over love the same way that Y/N did

— the first epilogue shows the aftermath of everything, levi marries may ducat, everyone else i’m not quite sure about but i do think i planned on tullia and reiner getting together?? idrk i think that’s one of those things that would’ve developed naturally with the story ykwim

— the second epilogue is Y/N and eren in the afterlife sitting next to each other at the beach; Y/N says that it feels familiar and asks eren if there’s any universe where they’re happy

— eren tells her that them meeting and losing each other in every universe is inevitable while they watch scenes from their past lives reflected in the water; the scream scene from promise comes up and eren tells Y/N that that was the moment that their fates were set in stone because his soul formed a contract with hers, causing the repetition of their reincarnation cycle

— eren reveals that the reason why things never work out for them is because they are not each other’s soulmates; Y/N’s soulmate is levi but she is forced to be apart from him because of the promise eren made to her. however because she made the choice to die with eren instead of fully losing him, she has the chance to break free from the promise and be with her actual soulmate. the visions in the water change to show her having a peaceful and/or happy life with levi, but she refuses, saying she doesn’t care about who her soulmate is as she only wants eren

— they sit in silence for a while before eren warns her that she’s condemning herself to an eternity of pain if she continues to abide by the contract as there’s no chance for them to ever be happy together and there might not be another opportunity for her to break free from it again. Y/N says that she can bear any amount of pain as long as he finds her in every life they lead; eren swears he will and she swears to always stay by his side, as long as she can

— they sit for a little while longer and contemplate things and wonder where they will go next; they end up hugging, Y/N asks if they can stay there together for a little while longer, to which Eren agrees and says there’s no rush

Hostis Humani Generis

— this fic was tough because the problem with Y/N Ackerman is that she was just too strong; several of the problems in canon simply wouldn’t have occurred if she was there

— most of the fic followed canon; jean had a crush on Y/N and mikasa liked eren, tullia reiss was in love with armin and he loved her as well (they had a relationship)

— the ackermans don’t have hosts but they are born with innate protective desires and wills to fight; they usually associate their desire with one person, hence the host misconception, as it’s usually someone who they have strong feelings for — for Y/N in this fic it was tullia reiss as Y/N was illiterate due to coming from the underground and tullia taught her how to read and write so that she wasn’t kicked out of the cadet corps

— right after trost, it’s revealed that levi is Y/N’s ‘brother’ (to the characters, obviously we as the readers know based on context clues), levi tells her that farlan and isabel are dead and that she should stop going by “Y/N Church” as that’s not really her last name and it’s okay to not have a last name as he doesn’t either

— post-stohess, Y/N sees eren and mikasa together right after he wakes up so she decides to leave the room as she believes eren deserves better than her and she thinks that eren and mikasa are in love (she knew that mikasa cared for eren since the cadet corp but didn’t think eren liked mikasa back until just then)

— during the scream scene, Y/N confesses all of her crimes — of which there are MANY because she was a little murderer in the underground — and tells him that she probably deserves to die for everything she’s done. Eren gets angry and tells her that she can’t die because she is the kind of person that will change the world someday. She is in disbelief, and he tells her that they will do it together before punching dina

— the only super notable thing that happens in the first half of season 3 is that Y/N sees Kenny again, revealing that he is her father (again, to the characters — it was obvious to the readers based on context clues) and finds out that she is an Ackerman as well as discovering that although levi isn’t her literal brother, he IS her biological cousin

— oh wait also tullia reiss is denied the throne in favor of historia because the military officials thought she would be too hard to control and she was too close to rod reiss as a child; they are afraid she will turn on them somehow

— during return to shiganshina and the conflict between choosing erwin and armin, Y/N gets into a fight with mikasa for pinning levi — she is loyal to her brother above all else and doesn’t give the others time to convince him to pick armin, leading to erwin being revived instead (i promise i don’t hate armin LMAOO idk why he dies in shiganshina in both fics)

— when zeke is trapped in the forest with levi, tullia somehow manages to inherit his titan, severely injuring levi in the process (he’s in a similar state as in canon); her beast titan has a deer-like form

— it turns out that Y/N, tullia, and eren have been planning to start the rumbling, and with tullia inheriting the beast from zeke, she fulfills the requirement of a royal-blooded titan. during the battle in shiganshina, Y/N manages to block gabi’s shot, so eren reaches tullia unharmed after she screams and they go into the paths and start the rumbling with 0 fuss

— Y/N wanted the rumbling because she didn’t want anything to hurt her brother or her friends, eren wanted it for freedom and safety for his friends and somewhat for himself?? and tullia wanted it to get revenge on the world for what they suffered and for what was taken from her (they are not meant to be seen as morally just reasons LMAO that’s just how they justify it to themselves)

— Y/N disappears at this point while the rest of the characters do what they did in canon

— when mikasa breaks into the mouth of eren’s titan, she finds Y/N is there waiting for her; once again, they get into a fight, which Y/N wins. Y/N taunts mikasa by reminding her of what happened in shiganshina and how Y/N won, how she will always win in any match between the two of them because she is stronger. She almost kills mikasa but at the last moment lets her go, remembering that they are sisters in a sense due to being from the same family

— once the rumbling is completed, the genocidal trio emerges and they are immediately punished for their crimes; eren is fed to reiner, tullia to erwin, and Y/N is locked away in prison for the rest of her life

— the epilogue is Y/N reflecting on her time in prison. She hasn’t spoken since the day that eren and tullia were executed — the only thing she does is sit in the jail cell and think. She remembers that reiner used to visit and sit with her in silence (likely because he had some sympathy for her) but he hadn’t come for some years; it’s implied that this is because his term ended and somebody else got his titans as the curse of ymir was not ended. Jean used to visit her due to being in love with her; his last visit is her telling her he married mikasa, and he never comes back afterwards. Connie occasionally comes just to yell at her.

— at one point, people trying to revive the jaegerist cause broke her out of prison in the hopes that she will help them overthrow the government and the monarchy, but all she did was sit in the grass until she was caught and sent back to the jail cell. she is very apathetic about life now that the rumbling is over and doesn’t seem to care about anything or react to anyone

— despite how many years it has been, levi has never visited Y/N. as she thinks that, the story returns to the present and levi appears in his wheelchair. he tells her that she looks awful and, in the first time in years, she speaks, begging him to kill her. he unlocks the door to her jail cell and enters it, she sits at his feet and lays her head in his lap like she used to when she was a child; beginning to cry, she asks him if he hates her now

— he tells her that although she might have been an enemy of humanity, she would always be his little sister. she closes her eyes and smiles slightly; he wipes away her tears and then stabs her in the back

— fun fact: Y/N escaped the underground because she wanted to see the sun; however, she spends the last few years and honestly probably the majority of her life in the dark/underground, even dying there. at least she had her brother in her final moments?? lol

[iviarellereads]

The Eye of the World, Chapter 35 - Caemlyn

(THIS PROJECT IS SPOILER FREE! No spoilers past the chapter you click on. Curious what I'm doing here? Read this post! For the link index and a primer on The Wheel of Time, read this one! Like what you see? Send me a Ko-Fi.)

(White Lion of Andor icon)(1) In which I get to explain another meme.

Rand thought he knew what a great city would look like, after Shadar Logoth, but it's even better than he imagined. Whitebridge could fit here twenty times with room to spare, and the city wall is fifty feet high, everything is majestic and beautiful. And there are so many PEOPLE! Mat wonders how they can hide with so many people around. Rand points out that there are so many people to look through, they must be safe, as long as Mat can watch his fool mouth.

Bunt advises that if Rand's holding the sword Holdwin told him about, he should hide it, stop wearing it, sell it, anything to not be seen with it. It'll draw more attention than he wants. Then he takes off and Rand loses sight of him in the crowd.(2)

Rand tries to focus, to figure out where to go next, now that they're in Caemlyn. He can't quite grasp the flame and void, but he tells himself aloud that their friends are alive. He remembers that Thom told them to find an inn called the Queen's Blessing, they should go there first. Mat gets paranoid again, more than ever, with all the people around, and Rand has to give him a pep talk about they won't give in now, or it was all for nothing. They aren't caught yet. Mat apologizes and they go find directions to the inn.

One man they ask, with a white armband and a white cockade on his hat, says they've come too late. Confused, they keep looking. Along the way, there are many shops offering relics, scraps of the False Dragon's cloak and fragments of his sword, as if they could all be real.

Rand knows someone will notice that he's hiding something with his cloak on one side, but he can't stop wearing his sword, his one link to Tam. He sees that many men are wearing swords, some bound with white and some with red, in such a way as nobody would be able to see heron-marks. Rand notes that red wrapping cloth is cheaper than white, though he sees no difference in quality, so he buys the red and wraps his sword in an alley so he can stop looking quite so suspicious.(3) Besides, adopting a local fashion will make them stand out a little less. Mat's just paranoid that they got cheated on the price anyway, and they'll get beat up and robbed and… Rand basically ignores him.

Eventually, they really do find the Queen's Blessing, and introduce themselves to Basil Gill, the innkeeper,(4) as friends of Thom's. His smile slips a bit, and he pulls them aside.

Gill asks what's in the flute case, and Rand opens it. Thom would part with his arm as soon as that flute, so what's happened? Rand says he's dead, protecting them. Gill says he'll believe Thom's dead when he sees a corpse, and not before.(5) He's harder to kill than you'd think, old Thom Merrilin. He believes they saw what they say, but he doesn't think Thom's seen his end yet.

“Coming to Caemlyn, you say?” The innkeeper shook his head. “This is the last place on earth I’d expect Thom to come, excepting maybe it was Tar Valon.” He waited for a stableman to pass, leading a horse, and even then he lowered his voice. “You’ve trouble with the Aes Sedai, I take it.” “Yes,” Mat grumbled at the same time that Rand said, “What makes you think that?” Master Gill chuckled dryly. “I know the man, that’s what. He’d jump into that kind of trouble, especially to help a couple of lads about the age of you. . . .” The reminiscence in his eyes flickered out, and he stood up straight with a chary look. “Now . . . ah . . . I’m not making any accusations, mind, but . . . ah . . . I take it neither of you can . . . ah . . . what I’m getting at is . . . ah . . . what exactly is the nature of your trouble with Tar Valon, if you don’t mind my asking?” Rand’s skin prickled as he realized what the man was suggesting. The One Power. “No, no, nothing like that. I swear. There was even an Aes Sedai helping us. Moiraine was. . . .” He bit his tongue, but the innkeeper’s expression never changed.

Gill is relieved, he means no offence, but better to be in with Aes Sedai than… the other thing.(6) He can offer them beds, not good ones, and a bit to eat. Thom's a good friend, he can help a friend of Thom's. Just don't go talking about working with Aes Sedai too loudly, and they probably shouldn't mention Thom, either. Some of the Guards have long memories, and so does the Queen.

Thom had trouble with the Queen? Rand is incredulous. Well, it's no secret, says Gill. Thom was the Courtbard at Caemlyn, and known in every royal court on the continent. Not long after Taringail Damodred died, the trouble with Thom's nephew arose. Thom was having an affair with Morgase,(7) a young widow, and Thom in his prime. But when he learned about his nephew, he took off without a word, and the Queen didn't like that, or him meddling in Aes Sedai affairs. When he came back, they had words, some words you don't say to anyone much less a queen. When Thom left Caemlyn last, he was a hair's breadth from prison, if not the headsman's axe.

“If it was a long time ago,” Rand said, “maybe nobody remembers.” Master Gill shook his head. “Gareth Bryne is Captain-General of the Queen’s Guards. He personally commanded the Guardsmen Morgase sent to bring Thom back in chains, and I misdoubt he’ll ever forget returning empty-handed to find Thom had already been back to the Palace and left again. And the Queen never forgets anything. You ever know a woman who did? My, but Morgase was in a taking. I’ll swear the whole city walked soft and whispered for a month. Plenty of other Guardsmen old enough to remember, too. No, best you keep Thom as close a secret as you keep that Aes Sedai of yours. Come, I’ll get you something to eat. You look as if your bellies are gnawing at your backbones.”

=====

(1) The symbol of the royal family of Andor, and thus presumably a sort of symbol banner for the capital city. (2) Bunt knows Holdwin's not to be trusted from his regular encounters with the man, it seems. He knows who to believe: his own judgement, which seems mighty fine to me. (3) Now, why would one wrap be cheaper than the other? (4) I seriously trimmed down the gawping Rand does at all the people, fights that break out that he's witness to, etc etc. There are NINE PAGES in my paperback before they enter the inn. Also, I had trouble phrasing it for the summary so I left it out, but Rand makes reference to Gill's being fat as a relief: the only bad experience he ever had was with a skinny innkeeper. So, now it's a meme throughout the fandom that you never trust a skinny innkeeper. (Along the same lines, I suppose, as a saying I grew up with: "never trust a skinny cook" because presumably they don't cook well enough to keep themselves fed.) (5) And Gill teaches us one of the most important lessons in fiction in general, but particularly in this series: never believe someone's dead until you see a body and you're P O S I T I V E that it's actually theirs and not some elaborate illusion or prank. I've really taken that one to heart in recent years. (6) I find it somewhat understandable that, given the rules of this world, Gill doesn't really want a male channeler possibly on the edge of madness and Breaking (like the world was Broken 3000 years ago) in his inn. Like, he wants to help friends of Thom's, but that's a fair line to draw, given the destructive power we've seen a man hold. Lews Therin did literally create a miles-high mountain from a flat plain in the opening. (7) And then some intrigue with Thom! He was definitely having an affair with Morgase at one point, it's not entirely clear if it started before or after her husband died, or when Thom arrived on the scene at all. [waggles eyebrows] Also, interesting that he was "in his prime" at the time, and I have to wonder what that means exactly with regard to age. Thom's age is one of the biggest mysteries in the series. Because of his white hair and the description of him as "grizzled" in his intro, a lot of people assume he's in his 60s or 70s and just still nimble for his age. There are clues that lend toward that sort of range, if you pay close attention. But, I tend to headcanon him much younger, and I was ever so glad the show agreed with me in their casting.

[hugsandchaos]

You shall have Alien Bros!!

I have this concept of AU called “Tyrant”, and it basically goes along with the idea that Black Doom was a tyrant. I mean, he didn’t seem to have trouble sacrificing his own kind while saying humans are evil for doing the same, so he’s already a massive hypocrite. Second, who knows how many Black Arms actually fought because they wanted to and how many were under mind control?

After Shadow killed Black Doom and the remaining Black Arms were in the double digits, Eclipse approached him and thanked him. He had been trying to plan a way to deal with his father for a very long time, but Shadow just freed them all. Shadow was a bit confused, but after getting the full story, he said it was no problem. They both know he’s lying, he’s traumatized after that.

I had another idea where Eclipse was kicked out of the Black Comet for wanting to preserve the life of another planet, crashed on Earth, and Shadow just decided he was his now.

Anyways, Eclipse is much more social than Shadow and is usually the one to initiate hugs or any physical contact. Eclipse is one of those people Shadow always allows these hugs, except for certain moments. There have been times when Eclipse couldn’t touch him to help calm him down because his quills were raised up. Once, Shadow was even curled up into a spiky ball. Eclipse didn’t know what to do, so he brought a blanket and book and sat down to read to him about bugs.

Oh, yeah, Eclipse likes bugs and dinosaurs. He thinks they’re cool. He will give you a thirty minute rant about why the Jurassic Park novel is better than the movie. Sometimes, he and Shadow will break into a library or something to read.

Eclipse doesn’t understand the custom of wearing gloves and shoes. Clothes are usually reserved for those in charge of things as a status symbol, not something everyone needed to wear. And what do you mean “naked without them”? Both Eclipse and Shadow have nothing to hide, it makes no sense! But he’d put on a cloak if he had to.

With the Black Arms, Eclipse does his best to take care of them all as the new leader, and he does a fantastic job! Sometimes, he goes to Shadow for advice or just to talk, but no one knows if Shadow is a legitimate advisor or not.

Also, it was a while before they realized Shadow was actually Eclipse’s half brother, but when they did, Eclipse went straight for the hugs!

Eclipse is a bit of a gremlin sometimes, and on rare occasions, he brings out the gremlin in Shadow and they’re both feral gremlins.

You can’t convince me Sticks didn’t attack Eclipse at least once. When Shadow learns about it, he’s pissed, and goes marching to Sticks’ house to have a word. Eclipse chose to go with him because this could either go really good or really bad.

Maybe another way Team Sonic found out about Eclipse would be Shadow unable to walk with an injured leg, so Eclipse gladly carries him on his back and someone hears them talking. Bonus points if they weren’t talking and they were found by chance because Shadow fell asleep.

Shadow is fairly protective of Eclipse, and is more than willing to fight Black Doom again to keep him happy and safe.

I also like to think that Eclipse and the other Black Arms helped him learn to use his Black Arms features and communicate telepathically.

It wasn’t too long after Eclipse was allowed to touch Shadow that the others were as well, so sometimes I think of them all rushing out of the ship to greet Shadow with a group hug, but it’s known that Eclipse is the main person Shadow is okay being touched by, if that makes sense. He’s his favorite.

If Eclipse were to meet Silver, the two celebrated by happily cheering “I’m your uncle!” “You’re my uncle!” for five minutes. He’d love to babysit for Shadow, and he actually gets a book on hedgehogs he got a while back out once he knows Silver is more hedgehog than Black Arms.

Speaking of hedgehogs, Shadow gave Eclipse a heart attack once when he thought Shadow was dead or dying after being found unconscious in very dangerously low temperatures under the snow, but he was just hibernating.

Would anyone like to talk about Black Arms Boom Shadow, and what scenarios he’d get into?

[athyathye]

Baji,mucho and mikey with a s/o that is shy but you always see her with her arms around them like she is clingy (is that how you weite it?sorry im not fluent in englisch)

Hope you have a good day

"Want a hug?"

Author's note 📝: damn, I really like this KWJDDIIEW I haven't written for Much before so I hope his isn't too ooc :((♡☆

Warnings ⚠️: None, except for the occasional curse words! Made it extra fluffy duffy~

Baji :

❥  Best believe, he would eat it all up.

❥  Gosh, to his eyes you would just be such an adorable cutie (Which you are) that needs to be protected at all costs.

❥  Nothing boosts his ego more than knowing you can’t keep your hands off of him even with your shy nature.

❥  Though, as a soft boy, (He is a soft boy. To the right people at least) He could be a bit too overprotective with you.

❥  Don’t worry though, he has good intentions, and he just wants you to stay away from people that could potentially endanger you, people just like him.

Everybody around the area acted like they hadn’t seen you both in the corner with your bodies pressed against each other. Baji had you on his lap, his big strong arm was wrapped around your shoulders like a cloak. The other caressing your face that was as red as a tomato.

“H-here? Keisuke?” You muttered quietly, glancing around hoping that nobody could see you both right now. Oh does the horrors of having somebody see you both in this predicament embarrass you.

“Weren’t you the one who clinged on to me first? Besides, nobody would give two sh*ts, they’ve seen it happen more times than I can count” He murmured as he pulled your head to make you rest onto his sturdy chest.

The warmth of his body surrounded you, making you more flustered than you already were. The way his heartbeat was calm and stable unlike your erratic ones made you look up at him.

Chin on his chest, the way you gazed at him made Baji feel something he shouldn’t have. He tried to look away from your doe eyes and cutely blushing cheeks, but alas, he couldn’t resist. All he could think about was biting onto your soft pillowy cheeks that he imagined would taste and feel like a marshmallow.

“Don’t look at me like that. What are you? A cat?” Baji’s once pale cheeks sported only a tiny bit of tint. As if you felt the same way, you hid your face back on his chest.

“But, Keisuke’s the one who looks more like a cat with his teeth.”

“Should I bite you with it?”

Oop he took it a lil bit too far-

Mucho :

❥  (I really hope I can do him right-) Okay, Mucho. This giant. This absolutely dangerous man...would look quite humorous with a cutie dumpling dangling on his arms like you.

❥  He’s quiet, most of the time. He’ll give you the affections you’re craving for, but would look as if he was forced into doing so.

❥  So nonchalant about everything that it made it difficult to communicate with him. I wouldn’t be surprised if you were scared of him at first.

❥  Don’t worry though, he’s a gentle giant, but only when it comes to you.

❥  The gang are now always expecting their big bad member to come with a cute, must-be protected-cinnamon roll like you during their meetings. Almost like an accessory.

Mucho had you in between his arms as he conversed with his leaders. He would be swaying from left to right a tad bit, looking like he was consoling a child. You’d have your hands around your face as soon as he’d let you go.

“Stop doing that” You whined at him once the two of you left. Your hands were still wrapped around his forearms, having difficulty in keeping up with his fast and big strides. He chuckled, finding your shyness amusing.

“I’m sorry, it seems like I'm the clingy one between the two of us” He teased. Smiling (Smirking) even wider once he felt your soft hits towards his chest. He turned to look at you, only to be mesmerized at the sight of you bringing his hand to your chest.

Time stopped, the feeling of sheer unexplainable feeling scourged through him. The way the sunlight glowed around you as if being absorbed, the way your lips were pulled into a coy smile with your facial expression. If someone said this wasn’t the image of an angel he had in mind, he’d beat ‘em all up.

‘Cause if you weren’t an angel, What else would you be?

“...Gimme a kiss for everytime you look this dashing”  His hand which was being held by yours, pulled on your hand. Giving it a gentle kiss on the back. Watching as you turned your face away. He gripped your chin, making you look directly up at him. His figure almost burying you in his dominance.

“...But then again, you’d have to kiss me every single second of the day….I wouldn’t mind that…”

Mikey :

❥  Tease. Absolute tease.

❥  He indulges in making you as flustered as a cherry tomato. Stuttering and hiding in his arms. He just loves that shy side of you so much.

❥  You’d think he was being a bully in the way he treated and teased you. He couldn’t help it though. As a decent-sized….as a fairly short person, whenever you’d look up at him as if he was someone as big and dangerous as his fellow gangster leaders tugged at his heart.

❥ The way you’d react to his advancements have made him squeeze his own heart juices to a prune and made him want to serve it to you with a cute little umbrella as a design. Weird analogy, I know.

❥  But that’s exactly how he feels whenever he feels you tug at his hand, clothes or anything that he could feel for that matter.

“....So any objections?” Mikey spoke up, clasping his hands together to avoid yours that was constantly trying to hold it. But once he had his hands clasped each other, a dejected atmosphere replaced your usually bright ones.

Feeling quite entertained but also bad, Mitsuya spoke up. “Yeah, captain. Give your girlfriend some attention.” It caused you to flinch and feel embarrassed beyond belief once you remembered that there were other people inside the room.

“I- I’m fine-”

“Yeah, or instead, I can give you attention, y/n” Draken teased, his eyes closed as his mouth stretched. It was only then that Mikey got rid of the teasing look on his face, grasping your hand tightly against his. “F*ck off.”

A commanding tone, one that’s normally taken seriously, but the most of them just let out amused smiles or quiet chuckles. It was quite a sight seeing the normally strict and cold heads acting so carefree.

“Sorry ‘bout them, y/n-chan, did ya’ need something?” His voice was clear and concise. His mouth was directly near your ear, after all. He made his voice deeper and raspier just like how Draken’s morning voice would sound like. (After hearing emma gushing about it once-)

“...Naughty...you’re doing this on purpose.” You muttered, fighting against his hold which he didn’t like.

“That’s not even considered naughty… this is though” Your hand that was pushing against his chest was bit. The tip of your finger felt the slight sting but you couldn’t feel it over they way you basically blew a fuse.

His thumb which was on your palm caressed it, making sure to capture every single second of this moment as he felt his heart grew full.

He liked your reactions a little too much.

[violettduchess]

comfort fic, reader has a headache and silvio comforts you

A/N: Thank you anon for the request!

Keywords: Comfort, headache

Pairing: Silvio Ricci, Reader

Word Count: 656

Silvio's bedroom is nothing if not opulent. The finest silks in all shades of blue, gleaming white furniture ornamented with gold, framed mirrors on every wall, and a balcony that faces the beauty of the Benitoite sea. Right now the white, double doors leading out to said balcony have been flung open, welcoming the sounds and smells of the ocean, beckoning them to enter. Sea air is bracing, supposedly good at easing bodily aches and pains.

Your own body is currently in his bed, a massive, round thing of cool silk and gauzy curtains, but you feel so small, curled up in the middle. The world around you has shrunk down to one thing: the massive pressure inside your head. You wish you could simply crack it open like an eggshell, reach in, carefully take out your aching brain and soak it in ice water. You try to imagine the cool moisture of the cloth currently on your forehead sinking in, overwhelming the pain, shrinking it back to something manageable. Something you can wrap up in a box and put aside as fact: You are in Benitoite. You are in Silvio’s bed. Your head hurts. 

That would be acceptable.

This is not. This pain swallows every single thought you try to have. It snatches every ounce of comfort you try to give yourself with its greedy jaws, gorging itself. You can practically feel it prowling inside your skull, raking its claws against the bone, snarling at you, red eyes glowing.

You barely register the bedroom door opening or his entrance. Somewhere on the edge of the pain, you hear the tinkling of all the ornaments adorning his clothing. The beautiful gold embellishments and jewelry he wears so well. 

“Ah, micetta…..still?” His voice could never be described as soft. Except with you. 

With great effort you roll onto your side to face him, forcing your eyes open. He's looking down at you, azure eyes narrowed in concern. They miss nothing, not the way you wince as you try to keep your eyes open, nor the way your entire body curls itself into a protective coil, like a centipede.

Through the haze, you notice the subtle tightening of his jaw. He is a man who likes control, who has used his wealth and position to secure it whenever possible. But this is beyond even his reach. 

He turns on his heel, the snap of movement telling you he has made a decision. He moves to the dresser and you hear the clinking of him removing all the rings from his fingers. One by one he drops them lazily into a golden jewelry dish crafted to look like an open seashell. He unclasps his cloak when he turns back around, tossing it carelessly over a rich velvet chaise-lounge the color of a midnight sea.

Lowering himself carefully to the bed, he reaches over to adjust you the way he wants you, your head resting on his lap. You wince at the movement as you settle back into place, the tiger in your head growling in protest. Then Silvio is touching you, his long, bare fingers running gently through your hair. His touch is tender, the movement soothing. The beast inside stills under his touch.

"Silvio…." You sigh the word, relief and comfort and security all twining around the syllables of his name.

"Shhhh", he admonishes you softly. "Close your eyes."

You do as he says, relaxing into the rhythm of his fingers running over your scalp, the warmth of his thigh against your cheek. 

The beast is, if not gone, at least at bay and sleep is allowed to find you. Just before you welcome it, his hand stills and he shifts, leaning down to press a kiss, as soft as silk, to your head.

"Sleep, micetta. Get better." 

His touch returns, tender and determined, and you drift off to sleep, safe in the care of your prince.

*

Tagging 💜: @aquagirl1978 @alixennial @rhodolitesrose @atelier-maroron @somekidnamedkai @alexxavicry @redheadkittys @queengiuliettafirstlady

[omgreally]

Hi there!

Could I please make a little request for Din?

"I didn't know where else to go"

Thank you, hope you're doing ok today! ❤

Hey lovely! First off, I am SO SORRY this took so long. I know it's been months and I have nothing but terrible excuses. Hopefully this makes up for it at least a little?

Shelter M, Din Djarin/Smuggler F!Reader, 2.1k words Warnings: Angst, drinking, unhealthy coping mechanisms, swearing, Helmetless!Din, lil bit of making out, brief almost-but-not-quite questionable consent, unresolved sexual tension (but who knows, maybe I'll do a Part II?) Summary: Mando has nothing left, nowhere to go. Except to you.

He stands on your doorstep, a soaking wet mass of metal and muscle. The rain falls in rolling sheets, sliding through his hair, down the back of his neck, underneath his cloak and in shining rivulets over his Beskar breastplate.

Without the helm, the Mandalorian looks...smaller, somehow, deflated, but maybe that’s just the defeated look lurking in the dark space behind his eyes.

He looks drained. Empty.

It’s him, though - nobody can fake pure Beskar armor, much less the set he wears. It’s mirror-finish, reflecting your stunned expression in rain-blurred steel.

You open your mouth to say something, but fail to find the words. They all seem so inadequate to address Mando standing in front of you, maskless.

He’s not quite looking at you, his gaze alternating between the ground and somewhere beyond your left ear. You resist the urge to glance behind you, instead taking him in, cataloguing the changes since you last saw him.

It’s been months, but it usually is. His circuitous route of bounty hunting doesn’t intersect with your parts of the Rim very much, which is fine; this way your businesses don’t overlap. As a smuggler, you’re far too likely to be on the wrong end of a tracking fob, so you stay away and so does he.

Once, you were a useful connection. You’re not sure when you crossed the line into ‘ally’, much less ‘friend’. Yet here he is, staring at you through the pouring rain. Helmet off, tucked almost protectively underneath his arm.

“I didn’t know where else to go,” he says, dully, and his voice sounds so different yet familiar that you experience a sense of disorientation, of the planet’s surface tilting beneath your feet as you re-orient yourself to this strange new reality where the Mandalorian comes to you for help.

Once, you would have asked for credits first. Now, all you say as you recover from your shock is, “Are you all right?” He shakes his head mutely as you step back and allow him access into your planetside flat.

It’s small, so small that his arm brushes you as he steps over the threshold. You resist the odd urge to put a hand on his shoulder; you’ve never had to comfort him before, save for buying him a round at some space dive or other after a job gone bad. This is something different. This is something else entirely.

You don’t ask what happened. You doubt he’ll give you a straight answer anyway. And you don’t ask about the helmet. He takes a seat at the kitchenette counter and sets it down on the counter in front of him. The black, empty visor stares at you silently as you fetch a bottle of something cheap and strong and hand it to him, knowing he won’t need a glass.

Mando uncaps it and takes a long drag without a word. He makes a face - so strange to see the expressions that are usually hidden by the mask of the helmet - and suppresses a cough as he hands the bottle back to you. You shake your head and set it down next to the Beskar headpiece.

You’re not known for your empathy, and neither is he, so you settle on practicality which you know he appreciates. “Are you injured?” you ask, businesslike as you examine his face a little closer. There’s the bloom of a bruise on one temple, underneath the damp plaster of his dark hair.

“Not permanently,” he says, that trace of dry sardonicism that you usually find irresistibly hilarious now making you frown. “I’m fine,” he adds gruffly as he reads your expression. You huff, crossing your arms, but he says nothing more. Just picks up the bottle again and swigs with an audible “Ahh,” from his throat.

“Why are you here?” you ask, at last, after watching him drink for a minute in silence. Mando looks at you, at your eyes, and holds your gaze for a long, uncomfortable moment before he finally answers.

“I lost him.”

“The kid?” It feels like you’ve been hit, the air punched from your lungs. You assumed he was back on the Crest, asleep, not - gone.

You had only met the little gremlin twice, once when Mando needed fuel and ammo on the cheap, another for a place to lay low for a day or two. The weird green creature...grew on you, like a very cute fungus. His nonsensical babbling, insatiable appetite, and obvious love for the Mandalorian was infectious. You admit it; you were weak. You got fond. And, in turn, fonder of Mando himself.

And now…

“You found his people?” you manage, and it comes out in a croak. You clear your throat and Mando offers you the bottle. You take it, tossing your head back for a deep swig. It burns going down and warms the suddenly-cold cavity inside your chest.

“Yeah,” Mando says. “He’s...he’s safe, now.” The he was never safe with me is unspoken but you hear it anyway. You pass the bottle back to him.

“I’m sorry,” you say, and mean it. “I know...I know it was never a permanent arrangement, but he clearly meant a lot to you.”

“Yeah,” he says, looking down at his helmet before fitting the rim of the bottle to his lips, tossing his head back and draining the rest of its contents in several long gulps.

You watch the shape of his throat bob in his neck above the wet snarl of his cloak and look away quickly. A buzz is building in your veins already and he’s had most of the bottle - you’re surprised he’s still upright.

“You holing up in your junker tonight?” you wonder, after casting around for a change of subject. An expression of pain crosses Mando’s face, a grimace not caused by the alcohol, for just a second before it’s gone.

“The Crest is gone. Melted to slag and dust.” He says it without inflection, and that’s how you know it’s hurting him.

“Fuck,” you summarize elegantly. Mando nods.

“I haven’t got anything left,” he states. “No ship. No credits. No more favors to call in. Nothing.”

You reach out, more out of anger than anything else, and grab his hand, squeezing so tightly that the wet leather squelches. “Stop it,” you say harshly. “You have everything you need. You’re a kriffing Mandalorian.”

He snorts, pulling his hand away - with some effort. “Not anymore.” He stares down at his helmet, and beneath the scruff and fuzz and rain, his lips press together in a tight line.

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“I broke my Creed,” he shrugs, setting a hand atop the smooth dome of Beskar. “More than once. Didn’t matter at the time. All that mattered...was saving the kid. Making sure he was safe.”

“Mission fucking accomplished, then,” you say, shaking your head. “You pick yourself up. You rebuild. You move on.”

“How can I?” He meets your gaze, and you flinch at the dark intensity of his - something molten, furious there that you’re suddenly afraid of. You haven’t forgotten the promise of violence coiled in his every limb. “I have nothing to go back to. Nowhere to go. That’s why I’m here.” He waves a gloved hand with obvious disgust, and for some reason, that hurts, a sting behind your breastbone like something almost physical.

Mando must see the look on your face, for he wilts like damp lettuce. “I didn’t mean-”

“It’s fine. I get it,” you say brusquely, your words clipped. You take the empty bottle from the counter, your fingers curling around the neck and squeezing, hard. “You come in here, beaten-up, drink my alcohol and drip all over my floors - but I’m the last place you’d go. I get it.”

He rises to his feet, and you forgot how tall he is, how broad. And despite - ormaybe because of - the unfamiliarity of his helmetless appearance, Mando is still intimidating. You don’t shrink back, though; you square your shoulders and your jaw and lift your chin in challenge.

“You’re the last person I’d put in danger,” he says in a low voice, a voice that stirs a strange sensation in the pit of your guts that you haven’t felt in a very, very long time.

“You forget what I do for a living?” you manage, your mouth suddenly dry. You swallow past it, tasting the aftertaste of alcohol and your own misplaced nervousness.

“I’ve been hunted from one end of the galaxy to the other,” he continues in that same husky baritone that makes your knuckles go white. “I wasn’t going to bring that down on you.”

“I appreciate that,” you manage, diplomatically - but he’s not having it, staring you down like his life depends on keeping eye contact. “But I’m a big girl. I can handle things myself.”

He looks you up and down - just once - but with such practiced ease that it makes you wonder how many times he’s done the same thing from beneath the visor. You shiver despite yourself.

“I know,” he says, and then before you can move or react or think, he lunges into your space and kisses you.

If you were shocked by Mando’s sudden appearance, you’re fucking floored by this. You don’t know how to react at first but he proves quickly to be competent enough at this to coax your lips apart with his and get you to kiss him back.

He tastes like a distant hint of blood and smoke and his body is solid as his arm snakes round your waist without you noticing and he pulls you to him. He holds you so that you’ll have to twist away to escape and with the confidence that says he knows you won’t want to. 

And you don’t.

Instead you let the bottle fall and it clatters forgotten to the ground as you grab him by the pauldrons and let him lick into your mouth with the answering surge of your tongue and your hips pressing to his.

Mando kisses you like he needs to, and you realize that he’s half-hard already, impatiently nudging a knee between your thighs and pressing you to the wall. You break from his mouth to breathe and wonder if he’s ever had anything but this - a wild, fervid fumble of hurriedly-parted clothes and tangled limbs.

You don’t want to be this for him - a receptacle for his despair, his rage. You have too much of your own to deal with. But you can’t deny that you’ve thought about this, imagined something similar to this very scenario - but you never counted on the weight of emotion that comes with it.

“Stop, Mando,” you say as he sucks bruises into your neck, the edges of his teeth making your breath catch on nothing. He goes still, but his hands are tight on your hips, holding you to him. You can feel his breath, heavy and warm in your ear.

“Not like this,” you tell him. “You can stay, but we’re not doing this. Not like this.”

At first you think he’s not going to let you go, and the thrill that passes through you from the thought is unconscionable. But then his grip loosens and his leg withdraws and he steps back, out of your space. You rub your face with hands you can’t admit are shaking before finally looking up at him.

He looks wrecked. Broken. Staring at the ground, damp hair hanging over his forehead, and you catch the trembling twitch of his bottom lip even as he ducks his head to try to hide it.

“You can take my bunk,” you tell him. “We’ll talk in the morning. Okay?”

For a second you think he’s going to argue, or just...walk out. Relief blooms in you as he nods. He turns without a word to retrieve his helmet before he retreats down the hall.

You watch him go, and the slump to his shoulders breaks your heart. But he’s staying, and that’s something.

You never thought you’d have a broken Mandalorian sleeping in your bunk. 

And you’re not sure if you regret the fact that you’re not there next to him.

[rainydaymiddleearthimagines]

What a relationship is like with the Lord of the Rings men:

 Aragorn:

He’s adorable in a relationship, honestly. 

Very affectionate when it’s just you and him, or if you initiate some sort of form of affection first

He’s protective but not over protective

You wanna go out and fight too? Great, he’ll give you a sword and fight next to you

His pet names for you are “Darling” and “Love”

If you join the fellowship he’s definitely nervous about it

He’s worried the whole time about you being in danger, which to be fair you constantly were

But any time there was a battle, he was next to you, fighting side by side, ensuring you were safe

When he finally accepts his claim to Gondor, he will call you “ My Queen/King”

On nights you can’t sleep (unless your elven because from what I’ve read they don’t necessarily need sleep) he will sing to you or tell you stories of all the places he had been too or heard about.

He definitely will make you flustered when your with him on purpose.

He’ll flirt with you and you’ll just stand there with this red face and he’ll act like nothing happened. 

He is not a jealous man by any means, he trusts you with his whole being

His go to means of affection is kissing your knuckles or forehead.

I get the vibes that he adores fiercely independent people so he can sit back and watch you kick ass and be like “Look at what my baby can do” 

When he becomes king, you bet your ass you’re ruling next to him

He loves you to the ends of the earth

Legolas:

He absolutely adores you

VERY affectionate

Will call you pet names in elvish, whispering sweet little things in your ear

his go to means of affection is hugs from behind and holding your hands

You bet your ass that if you’re a human, hobbit or any non immortal race, he will give up his immortality.

He will teach you elvish if you don’t know it

His go to pet names are “Dear” and “My love”

He is very gentle, very loving

He’s extremely protective but that mainly stems from the fact that he has SEEN SHIT MAN.

If you want to fight, he will agree to it but he definitely will not like it

He’s not a jealous man at all, in fact other men’s advances kind of go over his head.

If you can’t sleep he will tell you stories that he’s lived through

Course, some of them are so exciting it defeats the purpose of sending you to sleep

He actually likes it when you go on adventures with him

He loves having you with him 

You definitely tease him for being thousands of years old. 

you love making him laugh

And he does that all the time because he gets to see that gorgeous smile.

Frodo:

The purest relationship. Ever.

He is very affectionate

EXTREMELY protective

He loves hearing stories of outside the shire and he loves sharing his experiences too

He loves hugs and my gods he is GREAT at giving them

He loves it when you play with his hair.

He is like Legolas in the sense that he definitely won’t be happy if you want to go into battle but he won’t stop you

He would prefer you to stay behind out of danger but again, he will not stop you if you want to go

his pet names are “Honey” and “Darling” 

He’s honestly so pure it hurts

There is a BIG difference in personality if you meet him before the events of Lord of the Rings

For one, he’s a lot more bubbly before 

When he comes back he clearly has seen some shit

Sad thing: When there’s a party he can’t hear screaming without thinking its a ring wraith so he has to leave early most times

You love him though and he DEFINITELY loves you.

Samwise: 

LOYAL. AS. HELL.

Has the sweetest personality

brings you flowers every other day

He is very adamant though about you staying behind on adventures, he will get frustrated if you end up going any way but he will not be able to remain upset with you

He also really doesn’t enjoy having to watch you run into battle

Danger in general, ESPECIALLY if it’s around you, terrifies him

You love hearing his stories, him telling you all about some of the crazy things he’s experienced

If you meet him before the events of Lord of the Rings, he will mainly tell you wacky adventures he got himself into with Frodo or Merry and/or Pippin

Hell, he does that even if you meet him after.

He actually refrains from telling you about life outside the Shire because it kind of gave him trauma.

His favorite forms of affection is kissing your knuckles

He will be that guy who works his ass off for you to be able to live comfortably

He loves you and will make sure you know that fact.

Calls you “my dear” or “Darling” 

Merry:

He’s a goofball.

Expect the unexpected. 

He will definitely do really crazy things to make you laugh

little bit of a prankster

By a little bit I mean: He’s a chaotic little shit

He loves you so much though and knows where to draw a line

He LOVES it when you want to go off and do shit

You wanna fight? Great, he’s charging with you

Wanna randomly dance in the woods? He’s dancing with you

He loves spending time with you 

He is SO loyal, always by your side

Watch someone try to separate you, he will kick their ass

He loves dancing with you

His favorite form of affection is holding your hand

Something about it is just so nice

He loves you so much, honestly he could spend HOURS gushing about you

Pippin and Frodo are always over for dinner, along with Sam

They love being around you two, watching their friend be so happy 

He calls you “Love” and “Dear”

He loves cooking for you, mY GODS HE LOVES IT

Pippin:

Like Merry, massive goofball

little more of a crackhead though

He is less of a prankster, more of a cracking jokes kind of guy

He’s totally a goofball and will do all sorts of  things to make you laugh

you genuinely love him and he adores you to pieces

if you meet him after the events of Lord of the Rings, he’s definitely more serious but not by too much

He’ll have a few moments where he’ll space out and you’ll have to tap him to get his attention

He clearly suffered so much trauma while on that trip

He definitely becomes more serious after everything

Yeah, he’ll crack a joke here and there but he’s definitely changed

He doesn’t mind if you want to go off and fight, but you bet your ass he will charge with you like Merry

He loves watching you be a badass

You love hearing the hysterical adventures that he’s gone on with Merry

He loves watching you sing and dance

he will sing to you on nights that you can’t sleep

His voice is hella soothing

He loves playing with your hair

He actually has a talent for making flower crowns

Boromir:

He absolutely adores you

piggyback rides while on adventures are definitely a thing

he loves making you laugh in slightly tense situations

Giant Spider pops out? His ass looks at it and then you “Why can’t we ever encounter giant butterflies?” and then charge like he said something inspirational that motivated him into battle

He doesn’t mind if you want to fight, he’ll just guard you the entire time

He’s fiercely protective over you

He loves being affectionate

Very attentive

Cold?

His cloak will be wrapped around you

Tired?

He’ll carry you

Sick?

He’ll take care of you

He loves you so much

He is kind of jealous. 

It’s not that he doesn’t trust you, he doesn’t trust other people. 

He loves calling you “Princess/Prince” or “Sweetheart”

You love hearing about his life in Gondor

When he dies... oh gods

It breaks you

If you went with the Fellowship you were inconsolable 

His family gives you the horn of Gondor because they all are aware of him loving you

You two sadly have a bit of a tragic love story

Faramir:

Affectionate as fuck

Loves hugs, always has his hand on you in some sweet way

He loves you so much

He was always kind of the overlooked son so when he presented you as “Hey this is the woman/man I love” no one except Boromir notices

Boromir always looked as you as a sister/brother after that, loving the way his brother looked at you with so much adoration

He does not mind you wanting adventure one bit, so long as he’s charging next to you

He does not give a shit about a claim to the throne either

royal life does not suit this man as much as the adventure’s life does

He loves you so much

He is sort of reckless in battle and that worries you

it gets worse after Boromir dies

When you thought he died you were hysterical

Then Pippin made the observation that he was still alive

His father wasn’t hearing either of you

Then he turned out to be alive and you were so happy

Scolded the crap out of him for worrying you

You two love each other till the end

Gimli:

loves a woman/man who can hold their liquor

Oh he’s a complete crackhead

loves telling you stories of dwarven life

you love his wild stories

You keep his mind open

If your an elf he will refuse to be in love with you for a while

Oh you definitely have a kill count thing going on with him

He gets flustered when he sees you being a badass

He ain’t stopping you from doing SHIT

Wanna run into battle? Great, he’s supplying the swords and charging too

Wanna join the fellowship? He’ll complain about having to save another woman’s/man’s ass 

And then later get saved by you

He definitely enjoys watching you in battle

He loves hearing stories of your homeland

sure maybe your life isn’t as exciting but he loves hearing about your life

He’s not big on affection but if he’s excited, hugs. 

He also isn’t big on nicknames but he typically calls you “Lass”

He loves hearing you laugh

He says it’s like music

[blossomingimagines]

Salvation

Lady Dimitrescu x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2,134

Summary:

Notes: I hope you enjoy this. (For @yukinechan021)

The ground beneath your feet was crumbling. Giving way due to your manic pace as you flew through the underbrush. Your hands barely have enough time to raise up to protect yourself. The small twinges of pain that appeared because of the brambles and low-hanging branches barely making an impact on you. You had only one goal in mind. Only one purpose as you took another sharp turn around a bend. 

Run.

You could still hear the screams from your village. Hear the distorted voices in the distance calling out for help. Hear the horrid sound being interjected with the ravenous howls of hungry beasts. 

The smell of blood and decay reaching you before the first animal ever did. Your father taking hold of you and shoving you towards the wood. His gaze desperate as he said his last words to you. “Go, Y/N. Run like you’ve never run before. They’re here now. Mother Miranda isn’t going to protect us any longer.”

You had hesitated. You didn't want to leave your father but he hadn’t let you. His gentle nudges becoming incessant shoves towards the foliage. “You need to run, iepuraș. Don’t look back no matter what you hear. Just keep running.”

With his words, you had done just as he told you. Trying to not let the screaming or the howls stop you. Trying to not let the fear shining in his eyes stop you. You didn’t want to think about what it meant for your father when the beasts finally did reach him. 

Skidding to a stop, your chest heaves as you take in your surroundings. You knew that you had to begin moving soon. It was only a matter of time before the beasts caught your scent. You had only a small window of opportunity before you’d be captured too. 

The sight of rustic stone work causes you to blanche. Fear shooting through your body as the knowledge of where you were came rushing to you. Castle Dimitrescu; the one place you had always been warned to never venture near. The tales of bloodshed and twisted horrors doing little to persuade you to try. Its foreboding presence is always looming over your village for as long as you’ve been alive. You never thought you would ever see it up close.

The intricate stonework winding up towards grand towers in the sky. Its color is a rich black in the setting light of day. You could tell that the castle was old, even barring the tales you had heard about it, from the weathered quality to its structure. Even though it was no doubt still taken care of. Standing the test of time despite everything. 

A chilling feeling works its way up your spine. Causing the hairs on the back of your neck to stand on end. Your body stiffening as a cold cackle reverberates through the air. A sharp breath catching in your throat at the faint shifting of metal against the ground. 

“Well, well, well.” The gruff voice purrs. “What do we have here? I don’t believe my dear sister let you out of your cage. So you must be a village girl.”

Flinching away from the strong grip suddenly on your face, your head is unceremoniously jerked towards the speaker. To a man with dark glasses and a cruel smirk on his face. Amusement clearly dancing through the expression. A twisted sense of glee lighting up his face even more when he saw your fear. “It’s a pity the doggies didn’t get to you too.” He pauses before a broad smile pulls his lips up. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t have fun with you. Oh, Mother Miranda is going to love you.”

Your brow furrows. “Mother Miranda?”

At your words a bark-like laugh falls from his lips. “Yes, child, Mother Miranda. I do hope she’ll let me have you. You’d make the most interesting tool in my games. I’m certain we’d have a blast. Well,” His head tilts to the side. “I know I would.”

Trying to jerk your head away from his hold, you couldn’t stop the pleas from leaving your mouth. “I don’t have anything worth giving you. No money to my name or family that would be willing to pay it. I have nothing of value that you’d want to take.”

“Oh that’s not true child. You shouldn’t sell yourself so short.” His hand loosens ever-so-slightly but it does little to abate your nerves. Especially as his other hand shifts his hammer. 

“I don’t have anything. Please.”

He grins. “While I do love to hear a beautiful maiden such as yourself beg, I must decline. As you do have something very special you can give me.”

You could feel tears welling up in your eyes. Fear began to run through your body as the man grew closer. “What?”

His face once again twists into a dark sense of amusement. “Your life.”

You didn’t see his other hand move. Didn’t hear or feel anything except for the sharp crack of pain against your skull. Your world is immediately consumed by darkness.

Only the sound of his maniacal laughter following you. 

-----

The rough stone scraping along your back is what roused you next. Your eyes blearily blinking open as you’re unceremoniously left against the hard ground. The basic stone ceiling being all that kept your attention for the moment. You could tell already, without even having to move too much, that you were restrained. The heavy presence of metal feeling like a sentence. 

To what? You weren’t sure. 

“Why did you bring her here, Heisenberg? She’s of no use to me.”

The female voice that spoke was familiar to you. You couldn’t quite grasp from where but you knew that you had heard it before. Lifting your head off the ground, you’re finally met with the sight of your captors. 

A sight that quickly causes a chill to run down your spine. 

Your original captor, Heisenberg, was lounged against a couch. A calm nonchalance surrounding him as a gleeful smile took over his features. His cruel intent still being as palpable even from the distance you were now at. 

A hunched over figure standing just behind him. A crown of bones situated atop its head as heavy breathing reached your ears. The grotesque form causes your stomach to churn at the very sight. You had to turn your head away from it. 

The other was in the form of a doll. Your body flinched away ever-so-slightly as it drew nearer. Its lifeless staring at you with something akin to interest before it scampers away. The clear barking order for it to do so coming from the woman who had spoken. 

A woman that was standing in the middle of them all. Her black dress and veil obscuring the majority of her features from you. Though you could still feel the tangible power that radiated off of her body. The command she clearly held over the people in the room. 

Mother Miranda-- through and through. No one but her held that type of power. The pull that she had on people. 

It was a spell that was only broken by the arrival of the fifth person. 

A heavy, yet graceful, gait announcing their presence before they even appeared. The faint clicking of heels against the stone floor telling you where they were. That they were growing closer and closer towards you by the second. Your body is already tensing at what monstrosity you would be subjected to at their arrival. 

Nothing would have ever prepared you for what you saw. 

A woman stops just within your field of vision. Glowing golden eyes taking in the room with a vague sense of interest. Painted red lips pulled into a small smirk as she finally settled her gaze on you. Raven black locks standing out against her pallid skin. Her clear beauty stands out even through the darkness. But that wasn’t what caused your breath to catch. 

It wasn’t the way an exotic tinge of danger exuded from her.

It wasn’t because of the way she gracefully moved through the room. Her white dress shifted against her form with every minute movement. 

It wasn’t even because of the way the dress looked on her body. 

No. It all had to do with her height. She stood taller than any person you had ever seen; man or woman. Her imposing height did little to detract from natural elegance that seemed to lace itself within her movements. In fact it only seemed to enhance it. 

Mother Miranda’s voice interrupted your thoughts. Your gaze being torn from her form towards Miranda’s. “You’re late, Alcina. I expect better from you.”

The woman, Alicna, offers an almost apologetic smile towards Mother Miranda. Her colossal from resting easily against the backrest of the couch. Her ankles crossing in the manner that only seemed to come from habit. 

“I apologize, Mother Miranda. I got caught up with affairs at the castle.” She dips her head towards the black-cloaked woman. “It won’t happen again.”

Miranda sneers. “Make sure it doesn’t.” Pausing for a brief moment, Mother Miranda seemed to observe the room. Clear contemplation taking up most of her concentration-- until her gaze once again landed on you. “Now it’s time to figure out what we’re going to do with our little friend.”

Almost immediately Alcina and Heisenberg speak up. 

“I found her. It should be I that gets to keep her.” No. Anything but that. 

“I would have the most use of her. She does look quite appetizing.” I don’t think I want to know what that means. 

At Alcina’s words, Heisenberg scoffs. “I’ll have the most use of her, dear sister. You’ll just hide her away in the private rooms of your castle. In the dark. Playing games with her that would end like it started; boringly.” He turns towards Mother Miranda. “Let me have her. I know exactly what I wish to do.”

“And you’ll just toy with her for only a few moments before she’s crushed by one of your contraptions. There’s no finesse to what you do, dear brother.” Her golden gaze flickers towards you for a moment. An almost contemplative look flashing across her beautiful features. “I’ll make sure I have something spectacular planned for her.”

Mother Miranda speaks before they can argue any further. And by the tone of slight agitation in her voice you can tell that this was a common occurrence. Your body shifted away from her ire even as you were restrained, almost painfully, from moving any further. 

“Enough. Alcina you will get the girl.” At Heisenberg’s whine, she snaps at him. “There will not be any more complaints regarding this issue. You’re dismissed.”

The next time you blinked she was gone. 

Your head is already plopping down against the ground. Despite the harsh greeting it got in response. You couldn't believe that this was your life now. You had just been sold to a woman, while undeniably attractive, that would sooner rip out your spine then let you walk free. 

At least it wasn’t Heisenberg. 

The thought only brings you a modicum of comfort. 

The sudden looming shadow around doing quick work to wipe out what was left. Your eyes trailing up well muscled legs, across a white-clad torso, an elegant neck, to finally reach her amused gaze. Even if her amusement was tinged with a darker entity that you truly didn’t want to think about. 

“Well, darling, it looks like you’re all mine,” she purrs as she leans towards you. Her hand coming up to brush against your cheek. Whether it be a way for her to maintain control or for her to know what you felt like; you hadn’t the slightest idea. “Aren’t you going to say anything to me? I did just save you from my brother.”

You still weren’t sure if that was a good thing or not. 

Raising your gaze to meet hers, you clench your jaw. Trying to prepare a biting retort to her clear teasing. Hoping that you’d be able to get even with her in some small way. If you were going to die you were going to die your way. 

However, the moment you opened your mouth, another two words appeared. “You’re beautiful.”

The moment that words slipped from your lips, you could feel your face heat up. Your body automatically tensing at the knowledge of you had just said to her. Fortunately she seemed to be just as floored as you. Shock clearly showing itself across her elegant features before an almost feral smile takes its place. Her arms wrapping around to hoist you in the air. 

But, before she did, she whispered one last thing towards you.

“I’m going to have so much fun with you, pet.”

[jackdaw-kraai]

Can you give us a few stories on Luke’s Flights?

(Now available on Ao3!)

Alright kiddos, gather round. Grandpa Jack is gonna tell you all a story, so shut your pie holes, settle down, and get comfortable. Here we go!

Long, long ago, in a galaxy far, far away, there was a planet of myth and mystery. The twin Suns of the world shone down on an unforgiving desert of icy wastes and burning salt flats. Mountain ranges that circled the planet reached for the skies and kept the rain from falling in all but the most heavy of storms.

But in the most inhospitable wastes of this planet, a legend slowly grew. A Wraith, born of Storm and Stars, had gone through his molt and grown into the wings granted by the Storm like no one could expect. He was fierce, bold, wise, brave, and above all, he was kind, for he dedicated his gifts to the protection of his community and the Freedom of us all.

And it is in this dedication, that we find the tales of his adventures. For as a runner, the Wraith is sworn to Free those who are chained, and all one has to do, is ask.

It was thus that one night, when the Moons hid themselves in darkness and the wind whispered in the dune sea sand, that a Mother found herself praying at the shrine of the Storm. Burning a candle, she sacrificed three keshtrels she had caught earlier that day and prayed. Prayed for the Storm to send her one of its runners, so she may plead her case.

Her prayer lifted up, echoing through the shrine as the candle cast dancing shadows on the wall. The Mother never stopped her prayer, remaining steadfastly knelt down in front of the altar as the blood of the sacrifices dripped onto the floor, for she knew that the Storm was a fickle God.

But fickle though it was, it could be kind, and the Mother counted on its kindness for this. Seven times she would recite a prayer begging for aid, and on the seventh time, a might gust of wind ripped through the shrine, blowing out the candle and splattering the blood onto her.

Startled, she looked up and saw that her prayer had been answered.

Knelt down on top of the altar and over her sacrifice, with a cloak of midnight that flared in the wind and eyes that glowed like spirit fires behind a familiar mask marked with nothing but two tear-lines from the eyes, the Storm Wraith had appeared as if from the shadows.

"Fear not," he told the Mother as she scrambled back across the floor, fear gripping her heart at the wild and powerful figure of myth and legend that had appeared. "For my patron has called me here to answer your call. Now pray tell, my lady, what is it you seek?"

The Mother did not answer, for her fear at the sudden appearance of the Storm's Champion was still far too great. But the Wraith was as kind as he was patient, and asked again. "I cannot help you if you do not speak," he told her again, "Please, my lady, tell me what you seek."

Again the Mother did not answer, as all she was able to bring out was a whimper and a tear, brought forth from the fear she still held. But the Wraith was patient and kind, and stepped off the altar to dry her tears with his cloak and ask her one more time, kneeling down in front of her so she may not fear him so. "My lady," he said once more, "I need to know what you seek."

Finally, the Mother overcame her fears and replied in kind. "My Children," she answered. "I was a slave three Moons ago and had two Children, but after saving up what little money I could, I had hoped to buy Freedom for all three of us." Tears began to fall as she recalled her plight to the Wraith, and explained further that her Master was cruel, and instead Freed only her, while keeping her Children and refused to grant her permission to buy their Freedom too, claiming that they would be better workers and companions than she ever would be the older they grew.

Desperate, and with no other recourse, she began to ask around. No one had any recourse for her, except to accept her grief and remember her Children as they were. She would not accept that though, and at last one of the Elders had told her that if she was determined enough, there may yet be another way.

She was told to go out into the Desert and capture the first three animals she could find, then, bring them to the shrine of the Storm to sacrifice them and pray for aid. There, the answer to her woes would appear.

"And now," she said, "Here you are. So I beg of you; help my Children. Set them Free."

With her tale told, and her case made, all she could do was wait for judgement as the Wraith silently stared down at her, eyes unblinking with spirit glow.

But the Wraith is as brave as he is kind, and at last, he inclined his head. "I accept your Children as my charges," he told the Mother, "Keep watch over this shrine. If you see three candles burning on its steps, you know your Children will have been saved. If you see only one, you will know I have failed."

And with another gust of wind, the Wraith was gone, leaving the shrine darkened and the Mother to await his return.

The Master who had kept the Children was greedy, and had grown slothful and cruel on the riches gained on the backs of his slaves. He maintained a stronghold deep within the mountains, against the wishes of the spirits there, and held many slaves within its walls.

Walls which were high, and well guarded. The Wraith would need to be clever to steal within its confines, find his charges, and Free them. He would need a plan.

So he went to a lair deep, deep within the mountains, where the Sage of Kashmi Ridge resided. The Greater Krayt that guarded the lands, and the Wraith's own mentor.

A behemoth of incredible wealth and knowledge, it is said that its great body could wind around a mountain, and that its six wings could blot out the Suns. Covered in gleaming scales of pearlescent midnight and void, it is said that the Sage was born of an egg created from the very night sky itself, with the blessing of the Star Paths, millennia ago.

"Hail, oh Sage," the Wraith greeted as he entered the lair, bowing deeply, for the Storm's own Champion knew to respect the wisdom and power of the powerful krayt. "I have come to beg your aid in the Flight of two young Children, stolen from their Mother's arms by a cruel Master."

The Sage regarded their pupil, brought to them by the Storm and blessed with their knowledge. "Speak, pupil mine," they spoke. "And present your case."

Doing as he was told, the Wraith told the Sage of the Flight he had taken on, and the obstacles in his way. The high walls, the many guards, and the cruel Master, all sequestered in a stronghold deep within the mountains.

The Sage knew of the stronghold of which the Wraith spoke. The mountain spirits had long since been displeased with its presence, and told their pupil that he might find allies in them. Further more they gave the Wraith three scales, telling him that if he ever came across any obstacle he couldn't overcome, he merely had to take one out, and whisper to it for it to aid him.

Taking the three scales with gratitude, the Wraith left the lair and came up with a plan. Traveling back through the mountains, the Wraith followed the hidden trails to an unassuming rock wall. But the Wraith was not fooled by its appearance, and pacing in front of it it three times while praying for the Storm and the spirits to hear him, the rock wall finally relented on the third time and dissolved like the illusion it was, revealing a passage beyond it.

The Wraith, ever brave, passed through the passage, and found himself standing in an oasis grotto, dedicated to the spirits. "Hail, oh spirits," the Wraith called as he entered the grotto, voice thundering like the Storm that had claimed him as its own, and the spirits appeared in fire and flame as bright as the Wraith's own eyes, heeding the thunder's call.

"You have come to us, oh Wraith," the spirits greeted as they walked on air and water alike. "Tell us, what brings you here?"

"I have come to beg your aid, oh spirits," the Wraith answered as he bowed in deep respect. "The Storm called me to a Mother in need, and she called me to the Mountains to retrieve her Children from a cruel Master, who stole them from her. He has taken Children, he has taken slaves, and he has taken residence where he is not welcome. I intend to stand against him, and ask you to stand with me."

The spirits convened amongst themselves, and eventually, three stepped forward. "We know of who you speak," the first spirit said. "He has taken possession of the spring he has built his stronghold over."

"He has taken possession of the rock of the mountains to build his stronghold," the second spirit said.

"He has taken possession of people of the mountains to build and work in his strong hold," the last spirit said.

"None of these were his to take," they all continued. "Return them to us, and you have our aid."

"Done," the Wraith agreed.

"Then remove your mask and gloves, Wraith," the three spirits bade, "And accept our blessings."

Obeying the command, the Wraith removed the requested garments as the three spirits approached. The first took the Wraith's left hand and kissed the bare skin. The second took his left and kissed the skin too. The third tilted back the Wraith's head and kissed his brow, right between the eyes.

"We will be with you, Wraith," they promised as they stepped back. "And when your need is greatest, we will answer."

Thanking the spirits, the Wraith gloved and masked himself once more, and set out for the stronghold.

Deep into the mountains he traveled, guided only by the winds and the whispering sands. Through mountain and valley the Wraith traveled, until at last, he came upon the stronghold.

A vast and imposing fortress, with walls that reached high into the sky and a heavy steel gate watched by wary guards. None would get in, and none would get out without passing through it.

But the Wraith is clever and cunning, and he knew to watch. To watch, and wait. And so he watched the stronghold for two days and two nights, seeing who came and went without the guards harassment and questions.

And on the third day the Wraith disguised himself as a traveling merchant, a bag of rocks as precious stones, and bundles of dead branches as rolls of fine cloth. Disguised and with wares to present, the Wraith approached the gate of the stronghold.

"Hail, guards!" the Wraith called out, "I am traveler come from far to present the Master of this fine household with my humble wares. May I enter?"

"Hail, traveler!" the head guard called back. "Present your wares, so we may judge if they are worth our Master's time!"

"I present precious fabrics, oh guard, woven from the finest of silks and wools!" the Wraith called out while presenting the rolls of illusionary fabrics. "May I enter?"

The head guard eyed the fabrics the Wraith presented, which shimmered in the light of the Suns with a rich gleam, and knew they were fine and soft fabrics. "It is fine wares you present, oh traveler, but it alone will not be enough to earn you an audience with our Master! Have you more to present?"

"I also present precious and fine-cut jewels, oh guard, from lands far away!" the Wraith called out again, opening the bag so that the sun caught the illusionary gems and shone out with a precious light, bright and clear. "May I enter?"

The head guard saw the bag and saw that the stones were fine and bright, glittering under the Suns like stars. "It is fine wares you present, oh traveler, and it will be enough to earn you an audience with our Master!" the head guard agreed. "Open the gate!"

And as the great steel gate opened the Wraith slipped inside the stronghold. The guards led him deep into the stronghold, past the walls, past the slave quarters, past the water reservoir, and into the throne room where the Master waited.

Seated on a throne crafted from japoor wood and velvet cloth was the Master, and at his feet, the two Children of the Mother were chained, bearing the Master's cup of wine and a plate of food.

"Hail, Master of the mountain stronghold," the Wraith greeted, bowing deep even though he held no respect for the wretched being. "I have traveled far to see if the tales of your mighty holdings were true, and I am pleased to see that they are."

"Hail, traveler," the Master returned with a lazy wave. "I have been told that you have wares to present to me?"

"Most certainly," the Wraith answered, unrolling one of the fabric rolls and opening the bag that held the gems, letting the light catch both. Immediately the Master's attention was caught, greed in his eyes as he gazed from his throne. "Fine wares, from lands far away," the Wraith continued, pretending not to notice the Master's interest, "I hope they might prove worthy of the attention of one such as yourself and grant me a night at your stronghold after the journey."

The Master feigned disinterest, even as greed burned bright in his eyes, for he thought himself a cunning man. "They are acceptable, but nothing special," the Master dismissed. "I would not look at them even if they were gifted to me."

"Please, oh Master," the Wraith begged, for he knew himself to be a cunning man, "At least allow me to gift you a gem, so I may stay the for the night. The road was fraught and I am tired of the journey."

"I will accept your gift, oh traveler," the Master allowed, unable to resist the gift that shone and shimmered in the Wraith's hand and thinking he had a clever plan to acquire the wares without due pay. "But you may stay only until the final Sunset."

"Please, oh Master," the Wraith begged again, unfurling one of the fabric rolls, "At least allow me to gift you this cloth, so I may stay the night as well. The road was fraught and the night is full of dangers."

"I will accept your gift, oh traveler," the Master allowed, pleased that his plan appeared to have worked. "You may stay the night, but must be gone by morning. Slaves!" he commanded, frightening the Children at the foot of his throne with his harsh voice. "Collect the payment from the traveler, bring it to me, and show him to the special guest room."

The Master laughed as the Children hastily bowed to follow his commands, thinking he had won against the unsuspecting traveler. The Wraith kept quiet while the Master laughed, knowing he had won against the unsuspecting Master and allowing the Children to take the gifts from his hands.

Then he was led away, past the water reservoir, past the slave quarters, to a room that bordered the walls. There, when the Wraith saw that no one was there to see them, he finally shed the disguise and revealed himself to the Children.

The illusion fell away, and suddenly in front of the Children, stood the strong and proud figure of the Storm Wraith in his cloak of midnight and with eyes burning like spirit fires.

"Fear not," he told them quietly, for he knew to be gentle with the young Children as their eyes widened and filled with fear, "For I was sent by your Mother to be your runner and Free you from your Master."

The Children, raised on the stories of the slaves and well-taught by their Mother in the knowledge of the Children, knew what that meant for them, and did not cry out even when the Wraith knelt down to look them in the eyes, for they knew not to be frightened even as the Wraith was fearsome in appearance. "Do you understand what that means, Children?" the Wraith asked.

"Yes, runner," the Children answered. "We will follow you."

"Good. Then tell me, what is it I must know that the Master has not told me?" the Wraith asked quietly, for he knew that the Children would have heard all while kneeling at the foot of the throne.

"The Master will have you killed when night falls," the first Child revealed, "So he may take your wares without payment. This room is far enough from all else that no one will hear your cries."

The Wraith had already suspected such a thing would occur, and merely bade the Children to continue. "The Master also has chips within us that will kill us if we leave," the second Child revealed, "And control of the only water spring here, as it is hidden behind impenetrable locked doors of the water reservoir so we will die even if we do gain Freedom."

"And he has mighty walls of stone and a steel gate that only he and the head guard can unlock with their eyes," the first Child revealed, "So none may leave without his command, and even if we revolt, we will starve within the impenetrable walls."

"Many have tried over the years," the second Child agreed, saddened and scared, "And many have died."

"They will die no more," the Wraith declared, "I need you to continue your duties and raise no suspicions, but remain at ready. We will take Flight at nightfall and be Free when the Suns rise again the next morning."

With that, he sent the Children on their way and began his plan. Bundling the rocks and branches into the bed stuffed into the corner of the room, the Wraith disguised them to look like the merchant, fast asleep. Then, with the blessings of the spirits, he passed his hands over his brow and turned himself invisible. He snuck out of the room, past the guards who could not see him and into the slave quarters.

There, he found the slaves huddled together, sadly discussing the traveler who would soon either be killed or become on of them before morning. Watching on as they could not see him, the Wraith saw as all three dozen offered a prayer for his soul, and knew that he could not leave them behind.

"Fear not," he said, throwing off the invisibility as the slaves cried out in fear. "For I was sent to Free you as a runner, and am here to break your chains."

The slaves calmed after the Wraith announced himself, for even as he was fearsome of appearance in a cloak of midnight and eyes like spirit fire, he was a runner, and that meant they were safe.

"Hail, runner," the Eldest of the Elders amongst the slaves greeted. "I fear your aid will be in vain, for it is not with chains we are bound, but with chips and water and walls."

"Hail, Elder," the Wraith greeted in turn, bowing deep, for he respected the Elders. "And fear not. I have not come with iron files or hammers, but with true aid."

And with that, the Wraith pulled out one of the scales gifted to him by the Sage, and whispered to it to transform into something that may Free these people of their chips. The scale complied, and turned over in his hand to become a silver scalpel, engraved with the script of the Gods and the Wraith knew for what it was meant.

"Cut out your chips with this scalpel," he said as he gave it to the Elder. "It will never dull, never make ill, and always find your chips without fail. Do it before nightfall, and you will be Free next Sunrise."

The Elder accepted the scalpel gratefully, and when the Wraith turned himself invisible with the spirit's blessing once more, he saw the slave get to work cutting out their shackles, quieting and comforting each other as the blade did its work.

Slipping past the guards once more, the Wraith snuck into the water reservoir and found the impenetrable doors that locked away the spring from the world. Taking out the second scale, he whispered to it to transform into something that may Free the spring from its reservoir.

The scale complied, and turned over in his had to become a shining silver ray of Moonlight that burst forth and broke the steel walls of the reservoir apart like they were merely made of sand. The water of the spring burst forward and swept up within it all the guards that had come to see what was causing the commotion.

Leaving the guards to the unleashed spring's wrath, the Wraith slipped by and snuck into the throne room, where the Master was rapidly growing angered by none of the guards answering him what the commotion was about.

Just when the Master was growing angered enough that he would turn it to the Children cowering at the foot of his throne, the Wraith threw off the invisibility and revealed himself to the Master.

"You shall learn to fear me," the Wraith declared, silver blade at ready by his side, "If you lay even a single hand on those children you stole from their Mother."

"You!" the Master yelled. "How dare you threaten me for my slaves!?"

"You shall learn to fear me," the Wraith continued as he approached, for he would not answer to the Master, "If you do not return what you stole from the spirits and the mountains."

"You!" the Master yelled again, turning red in the face. "How dare you threaten me over what is rightfully mine!?"

"You shall learn to fear me," the Wraith said one final time, closing the last of the distance, "If you do not Free the lives you have stolen."

"You!" the Master screamed this time, red in the face and spittle flying from his mouth. "How dare you threaten me for taking my place as their better!?" And with that, the Master swung a heavy fist straight at the Wraith's head.

But the Wraith was quick and cunning and ducked underneath the swing, swiftly bringing up his blade of silver and driving it deep in the Master's heart. "Do not fret," the Wraith whispered as the Master's eyes bulged with fear, "You will not fear me for long."

And he pulled the blade free from the Master's neck, life slowly bleeding out onto the floor as the body dropped, revealing the two Children huddled behind him. "Fear not," the Wraith told them gently as they rushed into his arms, seeking to be reassured. "You will be Free by Sunrise."

Gathering the Children close, he led them out of the throne room, past their dying Master, past the water reservoir that let them cross the rushing water without issue, and into the slave quarters where all slaves stood at ready, each bearing a bleeding cut and a victorious grin.

With kindness and gentle reassurances, the two Children were Freed from their chips by the steady hand of one of the slaves as the Wraith held them in his arms. With the last of the Chains thrown off, the Wraith led them out of the quarters that had been both their home and prison for so long and towards the walls, the last part of their captivity that still stood.

The walls loomed high and mighty, and atop them what few remained of the guards still stood, ever-vigilant.

"Halt!" the head guard cried out. "None of you may pass!"

"Your Master is dying," the Wraith returned, voice thundering like the Storm. "The water has been Freed. The slaves are unchained. Stand aside and let us through."

But the head guard merely laughed. "If the Master is dying, then I am the new Master!" he declared. "I am the only one to now have the key to the gates, and none shall leave without my say so!"

The former slaves began to whimper and cry in despair as the new Master laughed, fearing that they would never be Free, but the Wraith hushed them. "Fear not," he told them, "You will be Free by Sunrise."

And with those words, the Wraith took out the last scale, and he whispered to it to transform into something that may destroy these walls and Free them all from the Master. The scale complied, and turned over in his hand to become a shining, burning ball of Sunlight.

It spat and burned with fire and flame as the Wraith held it, the former slaves crying out and stumbling back in fear and seeking cover, but the Wraith was never deterred as he glared at the walls with a fury that matched the Sunlight.

With an almighty roar, he threw the Sunlight at the walls and the laughing Master, his voice thundering like the Storm as it struck hard and true. The walls shattered like clay the moment the Sunlight struck them, ripping the stone and all that stood atop them to shards and tatters, bringing down the mighty monument that the Master had been so proud of.

When the dust settled, and all grew silent, all that was left was the Wraith standing in the dying light of the twilight, cloak of midnight flowing free in the rising winds and eyes burning as bright as the emerging stars above them.

"The walls have been destroyed," he called out into the mountains, "The water and people Freed. I stand before you, spirits, and say our bargain is fulfilled."

The mountains rang with laughter as the wind whispered into his ear. "Indeed it is, oh Wraith," the voices whispered, "Take our blessing with you one last time, as thanks for services rendered."

With the bargain complete, the Wraith beckoned the Freed. "Come," he said, "Let me guide you out of the mountains and towards the people, so you may reach them before Sunrise."

The Freed came, and accepted the runner's guidance, following him out of the mountains in a procession, the two Children walking next to him with a hand in each of his.

They walked through the night and into the grey hours of the morning, reaching the shrine just before dawn. The Wraith went to light the candles, but found it unnecessary as the Mother was already waiting inside, overjoyed to see her Children once more.

They rushed towards her and were embraced in a tearful reunion, the other Freed quickly surrounding the small family to reunite with one of their own.

With a successful Flight and dawn fast approaching, the Wraith turned to leave, unneeded now by the Freed.

"Wait!" the Mother and Children and Freed called out behind him as the first rays of the Suns peeked over the horizon. "Wait! Runner, blessed runner! Who were you that you Freed us so?"

The Storm Wraith turned to face them one last time. "Why, me?" he said, "I was no one but a runner, your wings for the night." And with a laugh and a deep bow, he took the blessing of the spirits one last time and disappeared in a gust of wind, leaving behind the Freed to their new lives as the Suns came up over the horizon.

They were Free by Sunrise.