#—wood in order to travel through trees? so? that's kind of...

[stupidfuckingwindow]

highkey wondering if you’d do any kind of smut where ken is actually a cowboy? 🤠

Campfire // Ken

Notes: Thanks, RDR2, for giving me slight help w the setting. I read too much Arthur Morgan porn. I loved writing this, thank you for requesting it.

Content/warnings: Technically public. Ken jerks off in the woods and has no idea you're watching.

Word count: 833

The morning of December 18th, 1899 was particularly freezing. Snow packed on top of roofs, so tightly pressed together that it became hard; almost so like ice. But the nights and mornings got harder and worse in the north- Way up in the mountains and stuck in some dead little abandoned mining town near a frozen-over lake. Run up here by the law for a robbery turned out to be a set-up was something you had regretted deeply, cold long having seeped past your skin, and powdery snow falling through small cracks in your wooden shelter. The move had brought chaos- Separated you from your gang until you were lost.

The only solace brought to you is the man who'd stumbled upon your camp. Neatly combed blond hair and a pretty, shaved face was Ken- Some little outlaw from some ways east, wanted alive for a few meager thefts and no gang of his own (or, so he'd told you, anyway). You'd seen a couple posters warning folk, his bounty a good 30ish dollars across one to two states. Ken is suspiciously too sweet and naive for an outlaw- Taking everything you told him as gospel. You force your worry down your throat and run with his all too trusting attitude, noting the gun on his hip. But if push comes to shove, you suppose you and Ken will shoot each other and bleed out in the cold if you have to.

He insisted on following you back to your gang in the following days, when the law's frenzy was beginning to die down and before bounty hunters would start prowling the roads in search of their next payload.

Ken is surprisingly quiet, as his horse trails a little ways back from yours. His curious nature draws his attention to every noise, focus darting all over the place between what few creatures are out and about. He doesn't ask you anything about all the new little things- Ken lets his eyes do all the prying and studying. He watches as the trees change along the way, forests going from the cold-resistant pines to leafless willows and oaks. He gets especially excited when the two of you pass any wild horses, and only then does he ramble on about all the pretty colors and different kinds of species. About how his favorite kinds of horse are the fast race horse species, so he can travel better and see everything.

Over the course of three days, you and Ken are forced to camp together. While you make the fire, Ken sets up the tent with practiced ease, like he'd done this a thousand times over. And he probably has, you think. The heavy storm clouds have you and he anxious, huddling in his small tent together with the heat of the campfire warming the both of you.

He gains confidence once the clouds roll past without rain, climbing out of the tent to better sit by the fire. He sticks a sliver of some big game animal's meat on the end of his knife, holding it close to the flames in order to cook it. Ken offers you a piece, and you take it. Still, despite his kindness, you're suspicious. Worried he might hurt you, and cautious he'll try if you sleep in the same tent as him. You don't say a word to Ken as you lay on your side, back facing him and revolver close by.

But your attention is caught and you're startled awake hours later, in the depths of midnight.

Ken's climbed out of his own sleeping bag, gone. Panic strikes you, seeing as his boots are gone from the tent entrance. Your worry is dampened only slightly by the sight of his horse still being here, but there are still worse dangers in these woods for him to just be alone. As you clamber out of the small sleeping space, you spot tracks in the dirt- Undeniably Ken's trail. The longer you follow his tracks, the more you hear it.

Groans that he probably thinks are quiet. Whines and moans that were probably supposed to be muted or muffled but aren't. And when you finally see him, he's lit by the soft golden glow of his lantern, eyes shut tightly and erection in hand. Ken's mouth hangs open, quietly panting. His strokes are slow and sweet- Methodical as his long fingers squeeze gently at his cock. Ken's bangs fall over his eyes as he hunches over himself. When his eyes do flutter open again, they're fixated on the way his hand moves.

His hips buck against his hand ever so often, palm curling further around his cock. His thumb rubs at the sensitive tip, swiping a bead of pre-cum from the slit to use it as lube. Again, he whines at the feeling. A shuttering breath leaves him, head falling back and hitting the tree he's propped himself up against.

You can't look him in the eye in the morning.

[deceitful-darlings]

Genshin idea:

Yandere Traveler…or better yet Yandere Abyss twin with reader?

Aether who found you soon after the fall on Khaenri’ah, so soon after he lost Lumine. Who’s wounds are fresh as he sees the people cursed so unjustly to suffer until their last moment, long after they even lose their sentience and sense of self. He clings to your sympathy and kindness to bandage his pain, relies on you to be able to hold when he needs stability, which he does so desperately, who stays with you while he tries to find his way. But you’re human, with a finite amount of time, far less than his own no matter how he is perceived. While he’s calculating, he isn’t cold. He feels so strongly about everything, that while determined it’s his emotions that spur him on. He needs to keep you, you need to remain with him through this journey, time is not a constant that cannot he changed, leylines, chaotic spaces, Teyvat is a world full of magic and mystery. He’ll avenge Khaenri’ah, he’ll save their people who were wronged so greatly with a heart full of passion, but to keep that burning passion grounded and stable he needs you with him. Even before he became Prince of the Abyss, he was researching pocket dimensions, to suspend you in time so he can remain with you, removing as much risk of harm as he is physically able to, especially other people, none of whom he can trust. A space for simply the two of you until he can lengthen your life to match his own, as it should be. Do not reject him, do not cause him more pain, as time passes perhaps he can take more but until then he is as volatile as the sun he could be seen as. You’ll be ok, today must just be a bad day. Does it really matter how many years have passed? Stop saying you want to leave. He can’t lose anyone else he cares for.

Lumine, who was sure her heart had long since frozen over. Her passion is cold, harsh judgments and hard calculations, there is nothing she wouldn’t sacrifice for her goal of revenge and salvation. Except for you. She’s unsure what it is about you that thawed the smallest corner of her heart, and she tries to deny it for as long as she can, until the dam breaks and she no longer can. Teyvat must fall, but perhaps a small fragment can be saved through your survival she reasons with herself, the foundations of your world are rotten, but that doesn’t mean some fruit can’t be saved from the tree. There’s a comfort she finds in you, even just by your presence, she first caught a glance of you in Mondstadt, a soft smile and gentle aura that she had been longing for for many years is just out of reach. She watches you even as she leads The Loom of Fate, simply observing, waiting for the right moment, waiting for your own fates to intertwine, and they do. She takes you, unconscious and bloody from a Stormterror attack that had nearly crushed you under a tree. Mondstadt, with such a pathetic god, were unlikely to even notice you were missing, or would perhaps simply mark you as deceased with the level of destruction in the woods you were found. The Abyss Order would be where you were nursed, her coldness evident upon every meeting. Your rejection doesn’t matter. She shall show you her kindness, but only when you break, another goal she shall pursue mercilessly until she has succeeded.

[muridae3]

The Mining Incident | Harvey x Donny

Harvey is forced to confront his worst fear after his husband is gravely injured in the mines.

**Warning: Depictions of deadly injury, blood, and surgery ahead.

Once again, I'd like to think @tuuna-jsgross for allowing me to use Donny. 

“Harv, I have to get up. It’s almost six.” Donny sighed, looking at the alarm clock on the bedside table.

“But do you?” Harvey mumbled, pulling him closer. “Five more minutes.”

“You said that fifteen minutes ago, hon. The chickens will be mad at me if I’m late. And… the snow looks bad. Maybe I should just handle a few things quickly, before it gets worse.”

“Mmm…” Harvey hummed. “But you are so warm. And it is cold outside.”

“I think it’s supposed to snow like this all day.” 

“Then you have to stay inside—doctor’s orders. You’ll catch a cold. Or the flu. At least wait until the sun comes up.”

Donny kissed the top of Harvey’s head. “Fine. Five minutes.” 

They sat in silence for the next five minutes, the soft pitter-patter of the snowfall on the roof almost lulling Harvey back into sleep.

“I really do have to get up now.” Donny got out of bed, stretching. “I have some business to take care of on the other side of the valley, I’ll probably be back late. Don’t wait up, okay?”

“What kind of business?” Harvey asked, sitting up and putting on his glasses.

“Just gathering some resources. It’s winter, what else do I have to do?”

“Fair enough. Dress warmly, okay? I don’t want you getting sick.”

“I’m planning on three layers, at least,” Donny said with a wink. “Are you going into the clinic today?”

“Mhm. I’ll bring home dinner and leave it in the oven so you’ll have something warm to eat tonight.” Harvey got out of bed, stretching.

“Thanks, sweetie.” Donny kissed Harvey before taking his clothes into the bathroom.

Harvey decided to surprise him with a complete breakfast– after all, chopping down trees requires a lot of energy.

Donny emerged from the bathroom just as Harvey was plating the scrambled eggs.

“Aw, Harv, you made all this for me?”

“Of course I did. You’re gonna be chopping wood all day in the cold. I am not letting my beloved husband go hungry. Eggs are a good source of protein, so eat up!” Harvey smiled at his husband. “I have to go get ready, but when I come back, this plate better be empty.”

“Yes, doc.” Donny kissed Harvey’s cheek before sitting down to eat.

Donny was gone by the time Harvey was ready for the day, but Harvey was very happy to see a clean plate, a travel mug full of coffee, and a note waiting for him on the table.

H,

Thanks for breakfast. Made coffee. Stay warm! 

Luv,

D

Harvey tucked the note into his pocket before setting the plate in the sink. Picking up the mug of coffee, he couldn’t help but smile at the gesture. He reverently inhaled the scent of the warm drink before taking a sip, savoring the taste. He would be forever grateful that Donny had gone through so much effort to procure, grow, and grind his own coffee beans, just so Harvey could have high-quality coffee whenever he wanted. 

After leaving the farmhouse, Harvey hurried to the clinic, the crunch of snow beneath his boots echoing in the still morning air. The cold bit at his cheeks, a stark contrast to the warmth he’d just left behind. Inside, the clinic was eerily quiet, the only sound the ticking of the clock on the wall. He busied himself with writing notes, but his mind was back at the farmhouse, wishing to share Donny’s warmth and feel his strong arms around his frame. 

“The day’s only half over, Harvey… you’re getting older.” He sighed to himself, ascending the stairs to his old apartment. 

Though he had long since moved into the farmhouse, he kept the apartment as a breakroom for himself and Maru. The fridge was well-stocked with produce from the farm, and Harvey decided to treat himself to one of the Super Meals Donny had brought over the other day.

Just as he sat down to eat, he heard Maru call him from the clinic. “Doc! Come quick! We’ve got a situation!”

Concerned, Harvey quickly left the apartment, sliding on his white coat as he descended the stairs.

What he saw in the lobby made his blood run cold.

Marlon and Gil stood in the lobby, covered in dirt and blood. Donny was precariously balanced between them, one arm around each of their shoulders. Blood dripped from a large wound in his abdomen, creating a steadily growing puddle of red on the floor. 

His worst nightmare had become reality.

“Bay one. Prep for emergency surgery.” He heard himself say before his legs carried him to the prep area. As he changed into scrubs, he tried to suppress his panic attack. 

What on earth had happened? How had Donny been hurt? How long had he been bleeding? How much blood had he lost? Where had he been? 

Harvey took a steadying breath, begging his hands to stop shaking. 

“Doc? We’re ready.” Maru called. 

“I’ll–I’ll be there in just a s-second.” Harvey responded, his voice shaking. 

He took off his mermaid’s pendant, gently setting it on top of his clothes. Just then, Donny’s note from that morning fluttered to the ground. Harvey’s eyes filled with tears, seeing his beloved husband’s rushed handwriting.

Would there ever be another note like this?

Would there ever be any more coffee in the morning, rushed breakfasts, or sleepy cuddles before a long day’s work?

Would there ever be any more late-night aviation documentary marathons, dinners at the saloon, or walks on the beach?

Would there ever be any happiness for Harvey, or would the loss of Donny snuff out everything he had?

Harvey wiped his tears away before preparing to scrub in. “He’s not dead yet, Harvey. He’s not dead yet.”

The surgery went well, according to Maru. Harvey didn’t even remember performing it. All he remembered was the blood– so much blood. Harvey’s hands, arms, gown, and scrubs were covered in it. 

But, miraculously, Donny had survived. 

Harvey didn’t leave his side that night, or the next.

Maru had to remind him to eat, but he didn’t have an appetite. All he could think about were the myriad complications that could arise. 

Harvey’s mind raced, each thought more terrifying than the last.  What if he got an infection? What if he went septic?  The image of Donny lying pale and lifeless on a hospital bed flashed in his mind. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to push it away.  What if he was bleeding internally? What if I missed something?  He could still feel the warm, sticky blood on his hands, the weight of Donny’s life in his trembling fingers.  What if he’s slipping away right now, and I’m not even aware of it?

“Doc, you haven’t slept in two days,” Maru said, entering the recovery bay and bringing Harvey out of his thoughts.

“I’m fine. Go tend the front desk, Maru. I’m in no state to see patients right now.” Harvey rubbed his eyes.

“Harvey, I love you, but you’re gonna kill yourself. You’ll need the energy to help Donny recover. You and I both know he isn’t out of the woods yet. Go shower, go eat, go sleep. I will not leave his side if that makes you feel better.”

“I can’t leave him, Maru. I just… I can’t.”

“Harvey, you’re not listening to me. Donald does not need you to be sick, too. Go take care of yourself. I will sit right here.”

“I…” He trailed off when he saw the look in her eyes. “One hour.”

“Three.” She countered.

“Two.”

“Deal. Go.”

Harvey slowly ascended into the apartment, the weariness finally settling into his bones.

After showering and eating a microwave meal, he fell into bed, falling asleep before his head hit the pillow.

His dreams were plagued with his worry– he saw Donny’s injury, dripping blood onto the white floors of the clinic. 

He saw the heart monitor flatline.

He saw himself doing chest compressions before calling the time of death.

He saw a coffin.

He saw a funeral.

He saw a grave.

He saw an empty farm, weeds overtaking all of Donny’s hard work.

He saw himself, alone in the farmhouse.

And selfishly, that was what scared him the most.

He shot awake, clutching his heart as it frantically tried to beat out of his chest. 

When he looked at the clock, he saw that he had been asleep for nearly four hours.

He cursed under his breath as he sprang out of bed and rushed downstairs, moving faster than he had in years. 

He threw back the curtain of the recovery bay, flabbergasted by what he saw.

Donny was awake. 

“Hi, honey,” Donny said softly.

Harvey burst into tears, falling into the chair beside Donny’s bed. 

“I was– I thought– you were–” Harvey hiccupped, unable to string a sentence together. 

“I’m sorry, Harvey.” Donny took Harvey’s hand in his own. “I’m so sorry. Please don’t cry. I can’t 

stand it when you cry.”

“Sweet Yoba, Donald…” Harvey sobbed.

Donny cupped Harvey’s cheek with his other hand. “Look at me, Harv. I’m okay. You saved my life.”

Harvey finally allowed himself to look at Donny. “I–I’m sorry. I sh-should be asking about your pain level. I should be the one comforting you, not the other way around.” He wiped away his tears. 

“Maru already checked in on all that stuff. I’m not in as much pain as you would think, though that might be the painkillers talking.” Donny raised Harvey’s hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to his knuckles. “Besides, I’m sure that was nerve-wracking for you. I owe you my life, my love.”

A new wave of tears streamed down Harvey’s cheeks. 

Donny wiped them away with his thumb. “I know you want to talk about what happened–”

“Later. I don’t think I could handle it right now. We need to focus on your recovery and getting you home.” Harvey broke away from Donny.

“Okay.” Donny broke eye contact, shame reddening his cheeks. 

The next day, Harvey managed to convince Lewis to lend him his truck to transport Donny home. 

“Easy now… take it slow.” Harvey chided as Donny slowly stood from the bed. “Let’s get you home.”

Donny leaned heavily on Harvey as they left the clinic, keeping his eyes firmly on the ground. 

Harvey drove home in silence, occasionally glancing at Donny to make sure he was okay.

After pulling up to the farmhouse, Harvey shut off the engine. “Are you ready to go inside, or do you need a minute?”

“I’m good,” Donny responded with a nod.

Harvey helped Donny inside and into bed. “Do you need anything? Snack? Water? Meds?”

“I need to talk to you about what happened. I know you’re avoiding it, but I have to get it off my chest. Sit, please.” He patted the spot next to him.

Harvey gingerly sat next to his husband, turning to Donny. “I can’t promise that I won’t get angry, but I’ll try to listen.”

“Okay. So this is what happened: I was in the mountains like I told you, but I wasn’t chopping down trees. I was in the mines, gathering resources. I know you said the clinic budget was a little tighter than you would like this season, so I thought I could gather some minerals and such to sell so you wouldn’t have to worry.” Donny’s voice was soft, almost pleading. “I didn’t want you to have to bear that burden alone, Harvey. You’ve done so much for me—for this town. I just wanted to give something back, to take care of you the way you’ve always taken care of me. I was deeper than I normally go, but I was having such good luck, I decided to keep going. I don’t know if you know about…” He took a breath. “About the monsters in the mine, but there are a lot. I’m usually pretty good at defending myself, but I didn’t even see the skeleton coming– ran me right through. Marlon and Gil found me, I guess, and that’s how I got back to you.”

Harvey took a breath, trying to suppress his rage. “This is why I told you not to go to the mines. You and I both know the dangers it holds. What if Marlon and Gil hadn’t gotten to you in time?” He ran a hand through his hair. “... what if you had–”

“I… I’ll be more careful. I swear it, Harv. I won’t put you through this again.” Donny looked truly ashamed of himself.

“More careful won’t cut it, Donald!” Harvey snapped, immediately regretting his tone when he saw Donny flinch. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have spoken like that. What I mean is that you can’t just… risk everything like that. Not for me, not for anyone.”

“I wasn’t thinking, okay? I just wanted to help. But I realize now… I realize how much I could’ve lost. How much we could’ve lost.” Donny’s voice cracked, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.

Harvey sighed, the anger draining out of him, leaving only exhaustion and fear. “Just… promise me. Promise me you’ll talk to me before doing something like this again.”

“I promise,” Donny whispered, reaching for Harvey’s hand. “I promise.” 

Harvey pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Thank you, darling. Thank you.”

[cosymelody]

Formally and Humbly requesting some Sky. Yandere, maybe a sprinkle of some spice. Maybe him abandoning Hylia because he’s found a new deity to praise, one that thanks him when he throws his life on the line. One that holds him like he’s precious. One he’d kill for if they have the order. One he’d spend hours on his knees making sure they were even marginally content with him. Whoops, I’m rambling. Bye! Sleep well and drink your water.

Y e s

I gotchu with all that!

Tbh I love reading/writing yandere stuff it's what I live for ʕ ㅇ ᴥ ㅇʔ

Anyways, I bring you the good soup!

.•♫•♬• 𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆!𝑺𝒌𝒚 𝑶𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒕 •♬•♫•.

You somehow ended up in the land of Hyrule quite some time ago, the many days, weeks, and months flying by as you explored this unpredictable world. Thankfully, Link (or Sky as you nicknamed him) had found you the first one or two days of ending up here and was kind enough to escort you through Hyrule, your travels not lonely with him by your side. He was quite the gentleman and was always there to help you through the battles you faced together.

You noticed lately how his behavior shifted ever so slightly, which kinda made you a bit concerned for him. He became a lot more protective and seemed to always be by your side to help with even the smallest of things. You truly did appreciate his hard work and made sure to mention how proud you were of him and thank him for his kindness, but you wanted to make sure he wasn't overworking himself please praise him again he adores when you tell him how well he's doing.

After knowing you for so long it's only been a few months- and bonding with you, he couldn't let go of you. It had gotten to the point where he forgot about Hylia and had abandoned his previous goddess for a new one, which happened to be you. Sure, he may have thanked Hylia for sending such a wonderful being like you to him, but he grew to favor you as his reason for living, his reason to fight, his reason to kill. He worshipped the air you breathed and the ground you walked upon and if need be, he'd kill any being that dared to stand between you and him and risk his own life to make sure not a single scratch had tainted your perfect skin.

You had been sitting in the woods beside him on a large fallen tree, your legs a tad bit tired from the walking and traveling through the lands. He looked to be a bit on guard, scanning the area with his hand on the Hilt of his sword in case of any threat that may try to harm you. You finally decided to take action and talk to him about his change in behavior, letting out a soft sigh before speaking softly to him.

"Link... I wanna talk to you about something. I've noticed how hard you've been working and how you always seemed to watch over me..."

Sky's attention immediately turns to you as you speak, listening carefully to your words and your expression of worry. Oh, he can't stand to see such a look on your face, he'll do anything to get back your expression of sweetness and joy. He cleared his throat slightly before speaking in a gentle tone, his voice full of his own concern for you.

"...I just need to make sure that you're cared for, I can't stand to let you stress and tire yourself out over anything..."

"Yeah, I know, but I don't want you overworking yourself for me. I want to make sure you're cared for as well and I don't want to see you so worried all the time. Please, just promise me that you won't overwork yourself for me, okay."

His eyes widen as you speak, your words full of honesty and your eyes peering into his soul. The way you made him feel like he was precious and worthy of being by your side truly had an affect on him, his heart fluttering with desire for you as you gazed so softly at him. His cheeks flushed slightly and his pointed ears twitched the slightest bit, the way you treated him effecting him in more ways than one. He can't let you go. He WON'T let you go. He's yours and your his.

Before you could even realize it, his arms had enveloped you in a warm and tight hug, his toned arms holding you as if you'd vanish into thin air. The feeling of him holding you so dearly made you relax even more, your own arms wrapping around his waist softly. You could feel him panting slightly with how hard he was breathing, your scent filling his senses and clouding his mind. He spoke against the side of your neck, his warm breath fanning against the delicate skin and sending a shiver through you.

"I promise, my love..."

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

WOOOOO

Tbh it's been a while since I've written so much, but I think it turned out decent 👍

Really hope you liked it and feel free to request again in the future! And YOU make sure to sleep well and drink water!

[cam-ryt]

A little fandom crossover but I've been obsessed with the concept of Warlock Darth Vader and Fae Obi-Wan who fall in love with each other 👀 

It's Sunday prompt day !! 🥳

I'm so excited about this new concept and I received very interesting prompts to write about, I can't wait to post them all !

This one was the first I wrote about, thank you for sending it, it gave me so many ideas, I got a little carried away aha. I couldn't write the whole falling in love process or I had to write a whole fic but I hope you'll still enjoy it !! 💕

TW : mention of heavily scarred body (kinda suitless Vader)

___________

When Vader first sets foot on Aldhani, he immediately feels like the atmosphere is different than any other planet he’d ever landed on. And he has visited a lot, conquered a lot.

This one would make no exception.

Stepping off the metallic bridge of his ship, he presses the sole of his boots on the wet ground, tall grass lazily dancing in the wind around his legs.

The view is breathtaking, a soothing break in the dark turmoils of the war.

Framing the valley in which he landed are mountains, rising high enough to be crowned by the clouds. The early morning light is painting them in shades of orange and the only sounds he can hear are the singing of the birds, the light breeze playing with his hair and his own breathing, loud and unnatural.

Closing his eyes, he lets his mind wander, searching for any living presence in the area.

It’s an easy mission, the population being mainly made up of farmers and religious people, none of them bearing any kind of power. That's why he came alone, on the orders of his master, counting on his magic and lightsaber alone to convince them to join the Empire.

When he’s done scanning his surroundings for any advanced intelligent form - he hasn’t found any - he decides that his best chance is to leave his ship behind and to follow the river deeper in the valley until he finds a village.

Before leaving, he decides to change his heavy suit and coat for something lighter and more practical. He adjusts the lightsaber to his tunic belt, wraps himself in a long dark cape and checks that his portable oxygenator is fully charged. Once he’s done making sure it’s carefully strapped to his mouth and nose and working fine, converting the right amount of air into his oxygen needs, he grabs his traveling bag and heads to the river.

The walk is pretty gentle on his mechanic joints, far more comfortable than walking on the rough stone banks of Mustafar or worst, in the sand. Here he doesn’t even think about his next steps as he strolls along the riverside, leaving space for his head to think and his senses to explore.

The Force is strong in here, almost palpable, pure life energy flowing into every being, from the smallest flower to the highest mountain. It’s neither good nor bad he realises. It’s nothing and it’s everything at the same time. It doesn’t care about the war, it doesn’t care about politics, about pain and hope. It exists only to serve a purpose : giving life and keeping the gears of the universe turning.

The thought keeps him wondering for a while.

The sun is high when he’s confronted to a choice. He's deep down in the bottom of the valley and in front of him the river is sinking between trees marking the edges of a forest. He can continue following it or try to avoid the woods in which he might get lost.

He hesitates for a second, deciding to rely on his instincts. The call of the forest is strong, as if the Force is even denser here, flowing through the sap of the old trees and impregnating the very ground. He can almost feel it buzzing around him.

So he follows it.

The cover of the trees is welcomed as the sun starts to hit harder in the middle of the day. He has dropped the cape and rolled up his sleeves, exposing one delicately crafted mechanic arm, the other one being only torn flesh and burned skin. Still functional but painful and unsightly. He doesn't really care, he has learned how to wield his lightsaber with his other hand.

The scars on his body and face are another thing, though. They make him suffer every minute, a painful reminder of what he had to endure to become as powerful as he is today. They took away any sense of comfort he had taken for granted for too long, forcing him to rely on a machine to draw breath after breath and keep himself alive. They also took away the privilege of being perceived as “normal” in other people eyes, not that he seeks any kind of contact with any kind of people, but some looks still hurt, even years later.

He's on the edge of the slippery path to self-loathing when something makes him stops right in his tracks. A feeling.

Looking around, he realises that the river has given life to the beginning of a lake. From where he is, he can see it entirely ; a calm body of water enclosed by ancient trees, their reddish foliage reflecting in the water like a mirror.

For a moment he just stays there, staring at the gorgeous sight. It looks like a dream.

Light pierces through the branches, illuminating the myriad of insects flying over the surface of the lake, diving through the shades of blue to highlight the silver scales of the fish hiding in the shadows.

The Force is so thick in here, bathing every creature in vital energy, he can taste it on the back of his tongue.

And then he realises why he had stopped in the first place. He had felt something. Something bigger than the frogs and the deers wandering around. Something with a consciousness so vast and complex he wonders why he’s only feeling it just now.

It is there, right in the middle of the lake.

Someone.

Vader’s heart misses a beat as he crouches down behind the trunk of an elder tree.

There’s a creature immerged in the deep waters, swimming gracefully between the water lilies. A man, as far as he can tell. The sun, where it pierces through the leaves, is kissing his pale skin and making his wet hair look like a flaming crown.

Vader’s eyes are stuck to his silhouette, and the time seems to stretch out as he follows him slowly getting back to the bank.

And then the man climbs out of the water and he doesn’t know if he’s chocked out by the fact that he’s completely naked or if it’s because of the pair of wings sticking out of his back. His face still heats up all the same.

Saying that this creature is the most beautiful person he’s layed his eyes on is an understatement.

He’s gorgeous, droplets of water running down his skin like little beads of light, bronze hair sticking on the back of his neck, his body lean and strong.

And there’s the wings. Vader still has a hard time believing his own eyes.

They’re tall, rising up a few inches above his head and falling to his bare feet, where he notices a bracelet around one of his ankles.

They look incredibly thin and fragile, for they’re mostly transparent. But when they're playing with the light, they’re suddenly painted in a million color, like a diamond in a beam. He’s never seen something like that before, it’s hypnotizing.

Just when he leans a bit closer on the tree, his scarred hand rips on the bark and he loses his balance, putting a knee on the ground with a loud thud, and the echo of the sound seems to ripple in the Force.

Immediately the man turns his head in his direction, scrutinizing the shadows where he hides.

“Who’s there ?” He asks warily, swiftly picking up a piece of clothes on the ground and putting it on.

Vader feels a tingle of regret when the beige tunic drapes almost all of his body, covering his arms and falling just above his knees. He watches him tighten it at the waist with another blue piece of fabric, and feels his cheeks burning up again when the man picks up a thinner leather belt that he fixes around his thigh, lifting the tunic in the process. He notices the dagger in the sheath just before the piece of clothes falls back again, hiding the pretty thigh and the weapon with it. He’s so fascinated by the whole sight that he needs a second to realise that the wings are gone.

“I can feel you.” The man says again, and this time he’s moving in his direction. “Show yourself.”

Vader can understand what he says without any problems. His accent informs him that he’s probably not a native from this planet.

He weights his choices for a while. The stranger doesn't seem to be dangerous, and his weapon is no match again his lightsaber. Maybe he can even lead him to the nearest village.

He steps out of the shadow of the tree with his hands up, showing no sign of hostily.

“I’m sorry.” He says. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

The man stops in his tracks and his eyes widen when they land on Vader’s face, his lips parting in a horrified grimace.

Vader is used to that kind of reaction, but he can’t help feeling sharply self-conscious about his looks under the creature's gaze. It almost makes him want to hide under his hood.

They stare at each other for a long while, none of them daring to move or to speak. Vader feels like the stranger’s eyes are piercing right through him, dissecting every one of his scars, reading every bad decisions leading to them like an open book. He has to force himself not to squirm under his gaze.

Then the man takes a step closer, reducing the distance between them from another meter. From where he stands Vader can see his face better, he can tell that his eyes are the same color as the lake, fierce and suspicious, or that he looks like he’s in his late thirties. His skin seems as soft as his own is damaged, studded with a galaxy of freckles on his nose and cheeks. A beard is framing his perfect face, sharing bronze and golden hues with the hair falling on his shoulders.

He looks like the Sun personified and Vader cannot take his eyes of him.

“Who are you, stranger ?” The man asks, pulling him out of his thoughts. “State your name and business.”

His voice is firmer and colder, but it still sounds like music to Vader’s ears. He sees his hand getting closer to his thigh when he doesn’t answer and decides to speak then.

“I think I’m lost.” He half lies. “My ship crashed half a day of walk from here and I’m looking for the nearest village to repair it.”

The man raises an eyebrow and takes another careful step closer.

“I heard no such thing as the crash of a ship. And you didn’t tell me your name.”

“Is it really that imp-”

Vader cannot end his sentence that a root breaks out from the soil and wraps itself around his legs, pinning him to the ground and growing bigger by the second, curling up around his waist and pressing his arms to his side like one of those snakes he saw once in an archive. The pressure is strong enough to immobilize him but it feels like they could break his bones at any moment. When they reach his throat, the instinctive rush of magic flowing through his body makes his skin tingle, ready to be used at full power to defend himself.

“I can feel the darkness in you.” The man growls.

His dagger is in his hand now, and there’s something irradiating from him in the Force. It takes Vader a second to understand that he’s also using some kind of magic to control the roots. It makes him re-evaluate the situation and his opponent.

“Alright.” He says, struggling as one of the roots wraps itself tighter around his throat. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

The man frowns and slides in front of him, close enough for Vader to see every details of his face, like the little mole under his right eye or the pink shade of his lips, twisted in an upset line.

“What are you ?” He enquires, making no move to ease the pressure on the other’s body.

“I’m- I'm a warlock.” Vader decides to reveal. It’s a half-truth, but the stranger doesn't need to know more. He doesn’t need too convinced, though.

“Liar.” He hisses a few inches from his face and Vader can feel the hair on the back of his neck stand on as his self-preservation instinct begins to doubt whether he's the predator in this situation. “You reek of the dark side. Why are you here ?”

As he asks questions, the man grabs the sides of his cape and pulls them apart to search him. It doesn’t take long until he finds his lightsaber, that he takes with a disgusted look on his face.

“You’re a Sith.” He growls, narrowing his eyes to look at him more closely, hostility clearly written on his features. “You’re siding with the Empire. You’re here to enslave us.”

Vader doesn’t deny it, there’s no use.

“Don’t kill me.” He just asks softly, and he doesn't even have a good excuse to add.

“And why would I let you live ?” The man snarls. “When you come here bringing chaos, pain and destruction ?”

He takes a step back suddenly, looking around in alert.

“Are there others like you ?”

“I came alone.” Vader replies, he had stopped struggling and the roots had stopped tightening, making it uncomfortable but not impossible to breathe. “I swear.”

“Why should I trust you ?” The man asks again, crossing his arms against his chest.

“I’ll let you read in my mind.” Vader says. “You’ll see I'm telling the truth.”

It’s a risky move. He doesn’t know how powerful the stranger is, and he already made the mistake of underestimating him once. But he doesn't want to engage in a fight.

The man gives him a suspicious look. He has no reason to trust him, but he seems conflicted. Vader can almost hear his thoughts. He’s not sure he’s strong enough to kill him if he tried, but he doesn't want to put his village in danger by bringing him there as a prisoner. It’s a dead end. Maybe he can offer a solution.

“I could… Tell the Empire that I found no-one here.” He says carefully. “That you already fled to another system to seek the help of the rebellion.”

The man's eyebrows shot up at his words.

“And why exactly would you do that ?”

“It would be a waste to destroy a planet like that. Where the Force is so strong and balanced.” Vader replies, and then coughs as his oxygenator finally has a hard time providing enough oxygen in his state.

The man observes him for a while, pondering.

“So you’ll just fly back to your emperor and lie to his face for the sake of one planet out of the hundreds you probably already doomed ? This is absurd.”

“This- This planet is no use for the Empire.” Vader says and, oh, black dots are dancing around his vision now. “I- I can’t breathe.”

He sees the man straighten, peering at him to evaluate if he’s trying to fool him or if he’s really in distress.

That’s when his legs give way under his weight that he has a glimpse of the stranger rushing to him before everything goes black.

When he comes back to his senses, he’s lying on his back on a pile of soft leaves, under the cover of what looks like a weeping willow. It takes a second for his brain to kick in, and when it does his first reflex is to get up. That’s when he realizes that his hands are tied in front of him, and that he’s not alone.

“I thought you were dead for a while.” The man sitting a few meters away from him says.

He’s building a fire camp with dry wood and terse grass. He added another layer on his shoulders and Vader shivers when the chill air of the evening slips under his thin tunic. He must have blacked out for a few hours. Without thinking, he closes his eyes and concentrates on the fire camp. A second later, a spark ignites in his center and flames start to consume the dry wood.

He can’t help but smirk when he hears the man gasp at his little trick.

“What-”

“Relax.” He says, slowly sitting up on the ground. “I’m not going to hurt you, I’m just cold.”

The stranger makes a face but doesn’t reply. Instead he picks up his dagger and starts to peel some edible roots piled up by his side.

Vader watches him in silence for a while. He’s still as fascinated by the stranger. He wants to know more about him. About his story.

“What’s your name ?” He finally asks, trying to find a more comfortable position for his metallic joints. At least his oxygenator is working fine again.

The man raises his head in his direction, his blue eyes staring at him with a mix of curiosity and defiance.

“You didn’t tell me yours.”

“Ah, fair enough.” Vader replies with a light smile. He hesitates for a millisecond. “Anakin. My name is Anakin.”

“Anakin.” The man repeats, and it’s strange to hear it in the mouth of someone else. To hear it again after such a long time. Maybe it’s not as dead as he thought. “I’m Obi-Wan.”

Vader thinks that it’s a beautiful name for a beautiful man he met on a beautiful planet.

Now he doesn’t have to get back to the emperor just yet, does he ? He can take a few days away from the war, from the horrors and the pain. He can pretend that he’s not a monster for a while. He can bathe in the beauty and the calm of this planet, let it heal him even if he doesn’t deserve it. The best he can do is to avoid corrupting it.

“Obi-Wan.” He tastes the name on his tongue and decides that he likes it. “Tell me more about you.”

[fancyfeathers]

Okay I went to go see a production of the musical Anastasia, which is quite a bit different than the animated film and so got an idea for the Yandere Moriarty brothers and with darlings who are sisters are share the story of Anastasia.

(I put the lyrics of Anastasia songs in this so I recommend you listen to them when they come up when you read this because that is how I read it and it also just adds vibes)

The order of the songs that are included

In My Dreams

Stay, I Pray You

The Neva Flows

Still/The Neva Flows (Reprise)

Picture the plot of Anastasia, a royal family murdered and an entire nation turned upside down by a revolution that said times would be better but they were not. Well the entire royal family was murdered, though they did not survive the daughters may be still alive and there is a rumor that her grandmother who resided in London would pay a hefty sum to whomever would bring the three of them back. A few young ladies in the nation who happens to resemble the missing princesses gets picked to play the parts but it just happens that it is not a part they were playing, it is actually them. When the three and their friends escaped the nation and made their way to the capital of the British Empire to look for their grandmother who is looking for her missing granddaughters, and when it turns out to actually be the missing girls, Britain booms with the news, foreign royalty reunited.

But to back track a bit to when the three and their companions arrived in the nation they had the brief encounter with an Earl and his two younger brothers when looking for directions around the city. While their meeting was brief but very kind which was nice since the three of them were nothing in that moment, of course the sisters did not notice how smitten they had the men. So when the morning paper arrives at the Moriarty estate and reports the heartwarming story of old royal family being reunited and the Moriartys are not oblivious to why most of the old royal family was murdered, they were hated by the people but now the new government is also hated, an example of what they would not do in their plan.

When the sisters encounter the Moriarty brothers again it is at their first ball since the massacre of their family, the three of them returning to high society. William had no doubt when he read the paper that the sisters were the missing princesses that the paper spoke of, but it is certainly something else to see them all dressed up while their grandmother shows them off. The brothers manage to get a moment alone with them and the conversation is pleasant till Albert asks what life was like between what happened and now and they all go pale in the face, and to describe what they said I can only quote the lyrics from the musical…

They said I was found by the side of a road There were tracks all around, it had recently snowed In the darkness and cold with the wind in the trees A girl with no name, and no memories but these

Rain against a window, sheets upon a bed Terrifying nurses whispering overhead "Call the child Anya, give the child a hat" I don't know a thing before that

Traveling the back roads, sleeping in the wood Taking what I needed, working when I could Keeping up my courage, foolish as it seems At night all alone in my dreams

In my dreams shadows call There's a light at the end of a hall Then my dreams fade away But I know it all will come back One day

The brothers watch as the girls get dotted on by the aristocracy of England, it must have been so hard for them, terrified and alone like that, and then having to live like the lower class. Then one of the nobles mentions the Lord of Crime and says that the girls must not be scared since they have been through that sort of thing already and the girls have never heard such a person and then explanation comes up and the three look like they are about to vomit, all those horrid memories come back of the massacre that night, killing nobles just because they wish for change is what caused them all this pain.

Albert’s darling, the eldest of the three, the one who looked out for and protected her sisters all those years, is the one to find out about the Lord of Crime’s identity first. Since she is the eldest, she gets invited to many of the parties and balls, including the masquerade that had the game of Lord of Crime that the nobles laugh at but for her it all just feels to real for her. She was invited by Albert himself to be his plus one and as they dance she confesses that making a game out of the deaths of others makes her sick. When they were leaving their home, boarding the train, they encountered a count from their past who cared for them, who bent of his knee and kissed each of their hands, and led everyone in a prayer of farewell to their homeland because they would never return again, someone she hoped would be here but he died protecting them, fatally shot by the police for illegally boarding the train and they would have been killed as well if he did not care so much about them. He was kind and yet was said he must die, it was sick, she can still remember the words he said to them…

How can I desert you? How to tell you why? Coachmen, hold the horses Stay, I pray you Let me have a moment Let me say goodbye

To bridge and river Forest and waterfall Orchard, sea, and sky Harsh and sweet and bitter to leave it all I'll bless my homeland till I die

How to break the tie? We have shared our tears And shared our sorrows Though the scars remain And tears will never dry I'll bless my homeland till I die

She has to excuse herself to keep herself from crying, but when she returns there is a man dead and practically no one cares and she just looks up to the upper balcony where Albert is and he is smiling while speaking to another. People are unbothered by the dead man or the smiling one above that is responsible. She runs out the party and calls her own carriage and leaves while just sobbing uncontrollably.

The second to uncover the truth is Louis’ darling, she is awake when her sister returns home from the party and absolutely mess and she rushes to her sister’s side to see what was the matter and everything pours out of what she saw. At first she does not believe her, that is until the next day where she is sitting down at the park with a book in the nicer part of London and is approached by Louis who spotted her from afar. He sits with her and the two chat and then Louis tells her that Albert let him know that her sister left the party rather early last night and asks her if she knew why and instead of responding to his question she asks him what he thought of the Lord of Crime and his answer makes her shake her head, the country needs reform and-

She interrupt him and excuses herself, because she had everything taken from her and she never did anything wrong. She tells him that what the Lord of Crime is trying will get them nowhere because she has seen what has happened when this sort of thing happens…

I saw the children as the soldiers closed the gate The youngest daughter and her pride My father leaving on the night they met their fate His pistol by his side

The Neva flows, a new wind blows And soon it will be spring The leaves unfold, the Tsar lies cold A revolution is a simple thing

I heard the shots. I heard the screams. But it's the silence after I remember most

She leaves, running off as Louis calls after her but to no avail. She runs home to tell her sister that she believes her and they both try to tell their littlest sister but she does not believe them…

With Williams’s darling, there is a part of the musical, a man is sent after them to kill her if she turns out to be the actual missing princess. She was invited to tea at the Moriarty estate and she goes to show her sisters that they are being silly and there is nothing wrong with the Moriarty brothers since they were so kind to them when the first came to London and where no ones. Tea is very pleasant, though most of it William just asked her questions and asked her questions. When it came to an end and William is helping her get her coat on there is a knock on the door and since she is about to leave, she opens it only to see a face and a uniform she thought she had left behind in Russia

Gleb

An underhanded girl An act of desperation And to my consternation I let you go

Well, not this time Paris is no place for a good and loyal Russian

We are both good and loyal Russians

I've come to take you home

My home is here now

Stop playing this game, Anya! I beg you

We both know it's not a game Gleb

If you really are Anastasia Do you think history wants you to have lived?

Yes! Why don't you?

The Romanovs were given everything And they gave back nothing Until the Russian people rose up and destroyed them

All but one Finish it I am my father's daughter

And I am my father's son! Finish it I must

There is a gun pointed at her and her life flashes before her once again. She truly thinks she is going to die in that moment, she closes her eyes tight, awaiting her fate, but the bullet never comes. She opens her eyes only to see her assassin dead on the ground, a blade buried in his skull and she screams and falls back, right into William who is wiping the blood stain off of his face. It is when he caught her and she looks up at him to see him smiling at her that she realizes her sisters were right all along.

[wildfire317s-oc-box]

Demon slayer R.P Starter: Yukio

*Somewhere in the darkest parts of the forest, at some point about an hour or two after sundown Yukio was hidden, crouched like a tiger amongst the thick wild grasses and a few bushes, laying in wait for his latest hunt to fall asleep and for the one human who was sitting with his back to him to be the one left on guard for his moment to strike. Yukio had been tracking this group of escaped rapists and other perverts for a week now but every time he caught up to them after sleeping until sundown something would always go wrong and they would leave their camp before he get there which usually left him with less than an hour before sunrise for him to find or make somewhere to hide. But due to being able to stay right on their heels thanks to the trees and some damn near surgically precise timing on his part he managed to injure one of them in the leg just enough to heavily impede their traveling earlier that morning, though the scent of freshly spilled blood sent him into a feeding frenzy and nearly drove him to jumping into sunlight for just a taste. There were nine of them excluding a hostage they had taken at some-point when he had passed out for a bit (whom he was planning on letting go), just barely enough to make this hunt worth it and he knew for a fact that all but the one he was waiting on taking guard; snored once they were soundly asleep and what order they went in. He wouldn't have to wait to very long now especially since they had been drinking quite a bit... His tail quietly swished back and forth, As he waited to pounce he could feel himself starting to uncontrollably drool with hunger and could feel himself getting desperate and growing more impatient by the second..."maaan im starving... i wanna eat already...mmm they smell delicious and look so easy to scare heheh im gonna enjoy devouring them" he thought to himself with a hungry grin. He gnawed on one of his hands to prevent his hyena-like giggles from sneaking past his lips, but couldn't do much to stop his stomach from growling loudly or prevent his secondary mouth from gnashing its shark-like teeth with vicious hunger. He would make short work of them, with how hungry he was he knew there would be nothing more than their torn, slobber drenched clothing left once he was through with them and he would certainly have to go track down more prey to feel full, maybe even go on another raid.*

This is where you find him:

Humans (and others that don't eat humans): *as you are walking along a path, you happen to notice a group of rather drunk looking men camping around a small fire in a small clearing deeper into the trees and behind one of the sleeping men you think that for a moment you see what look like the large, light refracting eyes of some kind of predator looking at them. It could be a demon, it could be an animal but either way whatever it is looks hungry and you may want to warn them before it decides to make them it's next meal*

Humans (and others that dont eat human's) 2: *you had been taken hostage while the demon hiding behind one of your captors was napping earlier that day. You noticed him following the group not long after you had gotten taken, but had yet to say anything about him. You wondered if he knew you were a hostage or if he even cared. They were planning to do bad things to you before they left to keep moving and left you for dead in the middle of the woods for scavengers and it wasn't like you could escape since they hog-tied you. You were surprised the one on guard didn't hear him with how loud his growling stomach and gnashing fangs were, but they were all pretty drunk...and they were probably louder to you as you seemed to be the only one aware of them.*

Demons (and others that do eat humans): *as you are going about your nightly business you happen to find a group of human men camping around a fire in the forest. They were drunk enough that you could faintly smell the alcohol coming off of them. And from the looks of it you aren't the only one who may be eyeing these humans for a decently sized next meal. You get the sense that whoever that demon in the bushes is they are strong enough to rival most of the kizuki. They seemed to be waiting for something before attacking...maybe they spotted you and are waiting for you to make your move so they can see what you will do.*

[holdmecloser-gandydancer]

Kravitz creeps through the brush, holding his bag in his hand rather than risking it snagging on a branch. Traveling off the road isn't his preference, but he's been finding the main drag less and less hospitable by the day. He swears it feels like people are just trying to kill him.

Probably because many people are trying to kill him.

Listen. Liiiisten. In his defense, how was he to know that the king of the Silvered Isles was such a poor sport? When you hire a bard for your thirtieth birthday celebration, you have to assume some good-natured slander would happen. It's in the oath you have to take at your coronation, Kravitz is pretty sure.

So he's trying to lay low.

This does mean, unfortunately, that he can't just mosey into the nearest town, charm his way into a nice, discounted room in a tavern, and wash his face. His choices of lodging currently include a tree, a damp cave, or the actual fucking ground.

He's so absorbed with his dreams of a hot shower and a feather pillow that he hardly remembers to try and keep quiet. It's hard, though, what with all the roots doing their damndest to trip him.

But the knife at his throat helps him refocus.

"Stop right where you are," A voice behind him orders. Presumably the voice holding the knife.

Kravitz holds his hands up. "Please. Please, I promise you, whatever you're being offered, I will double it," he breathes out. It's a lie, he can't afford to come close to what the king is offering for his head, he's got no fortune to speak of and his mother’s minor nobility is in title only. But if he could just get this person to stop trying to give him a choker made of his own blood, maybe he could get the jump on them.

"Turn around," the voice orders.

The blade comes away from his neck and Kravitz does what he's told. He keeps his hands up and tries to get a read on his assassin. No dice. All he can see is that lethal, diminuative dagger catching the moonlight; long-sleeves and gloves and a hood conceals anything Kravitz could use to his advantage.

"So, you're the head his royal highness wants delivered on a platter, eh?" The figure in front of him twirls his dagger easily. "You don't seem like you're worth the trouble."

"I'm not, really," Kravitz blurts out, far less calmly than he was hoping for. "I didn't do anything that bad, I beg you to believe me." He's begging for his life in the middle of a dark forest and earnestly hopes to be thought of as unkillably pathetic.

"I heard you made a mockery of the king in front of his entire court."

Kravitz feels himself blanch. "In a manner of speaking, I suppose I did."

The figure in front of him nods for a moment before stashing his dagger. "I think you and I are going to get on just fine, then." The figure pulls his hood back and Kravitz is met with a shock of pale hair and twinkling dark eyes. "Follow me. Unless you wanna risk the woods all by your lonesome," he says liltingly, almost daring Kravitz to follow him. He sets off confidently in the dark, not bothering to wait.

Kravitz fully intends on turning tail and rushing the other direction until he hears a particularly close and loud branch snap.

-

Shadows dance along the wall of the cave as the fire crackles. Taako, Kravitz’s would-be, still-could-be assassin, has been kind enough to show him some hospitality. He's even gone so far as to share some meager rations.

"Where're you headed, anyway?" Taako asks between bites of apple.

"I have this gig at a horribly ritzy wedding up in Crowned Peak that, according to some sources, might also be some kind of an execution or something? All I know is that it pays obscenely, so long as I can get there in one piece." Realistically, Kravitz shouldn't be quite so forthcoming with this information. Makes him an even easier target.

Taako lets out a low whistle. "That's a big trek on the main roads, let alone sneaking around like you are."

Kravitz nods glumly. "Don't I know it."

Taako tosses the core of the apple into the fire and watches the flames dance around. "You need an escort?" He says after a few minutes.

This is obviously a terrible idea. Or a trap of some kind. The classic "escort this dude to a fancy wedding and then kill him for the fancy wedding money and the price put on his head by the sniveling, sensitive king who can't take any kind of ribbing" trick.

"I know how it sounds," Taako continues. "But I don't wanna do the king's dirty work. He sounds like a bore. But I'll get you there in one piece."

Kravitz worries his bottom lip between his teeth. "How do I know I can trust you?"

Taako shrugs. "You can't. But I'm your best option."

"You've got a deal," Kravitz says, holding out his hand. Taako takes it and gives it a firm squeeze.

Kravitz hopes he doesn't wake up with a dagger to the chest. Taako’s such a nice guy.

[lunarsilkscreen]

Phantom Ganon, Skull Kid, Hero's Shade (I need to stop writing about Zelda, but the floodgates are open)

What do these three characters have in common? They are all Link64's best and only friend. Though, he didn't know it at the time.

Remember the mask quest and playing ocarina with the skull kids in the woods? The same woods where it's legend that people become stalfos, so Kokiri don't travel there.

He's kind of rude to Link64. But here's the sad part, unlike the Kokiri, The skull kids don't exist in the future, even though the stalfos do. (Nor the Stalchilds which stalk Link outside of the woods, which could be *interpreted* as death stalking Link from the very beginning. OR it could be interpreted as his friends tagging along. [Who're kind of rude, and annoying. But they don't know better.])

Skull Kid, the Z64 Skull Kid, the one you trade masks with, the one you teach scarecrow's song to. That one, I think Becomes phantom Ganon. Because he was bound to Ganon when he passed through the woods and installed a Gohma into the Deku Tree. And was chosen specifically (like the other temple Bosses) to grow into the temple protectors.

Watch the defeat of Phantom Ganon. It's incredibly sad, even the words he chooses to speak during his death are incredibly sad. And this, I think is why.

He encourages Link to defeat Ganon, and admits that he was just a stepping stone, but he never takes off his mask, and he does his best not to let Link know the truth about his friend.

(Shout out to the Painting Magic being connected to a link between worlds. Cool connection and decision to use that idea in the game.)

*But Link is the Hero's Shade*! You are definitely screaming. Because it was written in the Hyrule Historia. Even if all the rest of that is true. The Hero's Shade connection is dumb.

Evidence; Koroks can change their appearance. Like the Tanuki in Japanese Lore. If they are Kokiri, (Like the connection to the Deku Tree suggests) AND One of the Deku Trees is likely the incarnation of the Kikwi elder from Skyward Sword (Which is as close as we get to Tanuki in Zelda.) Then it stands to reason the stal children AND the Skull Kids can all be directly related to the Kokiri.

And that the warning that *children become stalfos* for the Kokiri wasn't for Link, but for the Kokiri. (Or just a silly reminder for Link that he is never alone, because the Kokiri follow along as stalchild)

*BUT HOW DOES THAT MAKE SKULL KID THE HERO'S SHADE?*

Who else would both be *still alive* and *a skeleton* to teach Link, if Link is a reincarnation, and his soul stays with him? *That is the divine lore, Zelda, Link, and Ganon always have the same Soul*

Or do they? Am I making an assumption here? I'm not quite certain anymore, but I feel like I'm probably on the right track.

The alternate reasoning is that Rauru the Owl is *also* a former Link. Since they both share that same *mentor* slot. But that's never explicitly stated like it is with the Hero's Shade.

Think about it; no Link carries the gear the Shade does. No Link fights like a stalfos, even though they serve to train him early on. And therefore, all the stalfos (and by extension; Poes) could have served to be training Link the way forward.

One more reason; in Z64, the only place we see wolfos is in the woods. And that's how Wolfos and Stalfos are *linked*.

-OR- *maybe* the Hero's Shade is Link, in the same way Shadow Link is Link.

It's also worth noting, that Sometimes Stalfos are directly ordered by Ganon to Kill Link , and other times, such as in skyward sword guardians and Phantom Hourglass, they're controlled to protect something important, or divine relics.

Which links explicitly to what I just said, and why Phantom Ganon could *in fact* be the Hero's Shade.

Don't take my word for it.

[sgcairo]

More Mamatorre thoughts:

-Whenever they see eachother for the first time in months, they start giggling and spinning around like school girls

-She has an old photo of baby Dottore chewing on a ruin guard part and claims it's "on of her favorites"

-In the hallway of her house the walls are full of photos, and the first time she met Pants she spend at the very least an hour explaining the story behind each and every one of them

- Since she and Dot have their own lil spot for their picnics, she went and found a seperate small spot for her and Anastasiy to hang out when they wanna go outside

- I feel like her favorite fruit would be some kind of citrus, something like oranges or grapefruits

- She always makes sure to give Anastasiy some pressed flowers from her garden to send back home when he visits

- When Dottore was young, any time he'd get angry or frustrated she'd send him outside to chop wood or just destroy something to relieve some stress

- I like to think that whenever her husband was too annoying she'd just put sleeping pills in his coffe(my aunt used to do this but with her in-laws. She was an interesting woman)

- She love pinching Danya's cheeks and likes giving him and all of the clones forehead kisses

- Her house is quite cluttered. You have to watch your step quite a bit to make sure you don't accidentaly knock something over or step on a beaker. She just has lots of things laying around

- She has a glass table with all sorts of moths and butterflies in it

- I feel like she should have at least some kind of animal companion. Maybe a snake?

- I know you mentioned that her teeth are slighlty less pointy than Dottore's, but im gonna double down and say hers are actualy sharper. Dottore, apart from his height and teefs, looks pretty much identical to her. When you look at his dad, you'd probably think he was just some sort of family friend and not actualy related to him

- She has a "Number 1 mom in the world" mug Dot handmade when he was like 10 and she still often uses it to drink her morning tea

All of this, yes, and allow me to add on some little things of my own:

-When Dottore was younger, Mamatorre would tell him to go run around in the woods whenever he was feeling angry/antsy. This led to a dirt covered, absolutely wild Dottore scurrying through the forest at questionable hours of the night, to the point that he would scare the absolute daylights out of travelers passing through the forest, with his pointy teeth and red eyes glowing like some kind of gremlin when fire from a lantern or torch passed by. It didn't help that he had a biting problem at that age, which left many poor souls with a fear of the deep Sumeru forests, and whatever goblin apparently attacked them there. Dottore became something of a cryptid as a result, and when Magdalena eventually heard about it, she laughed so hard she cried.

-Her favorite fruit is actually oranges, believe it or not, and she has a tree she's been nurturing for years in her garden. Whenever the segments visit, she always makes sure to pack them a basket of them for the boat home, just so they don't get scurvy and almost die (again). Unfortunately, they wouldn't stay good long enough to make it back to her son in Snezhnaya, but she always sets one aside when she peels them in the morning for breakfast, only to be painfully reminded that her little Zandik isn't going to run up and squirrel it away.

-She doesn't have an animal companion quite yet, but she does have her own little version of Benben, named Qalbi. It's quite the enthusiastic little thing, and usually floats around the garden beeping along to a tune that only it can hear. Qalbi tends to accompany her into town to deliver "medicine" (mostly to ensure her safety by Dottore's orders), and gets very excited when she gives it a coin to keep for being such a good helper.

-As for her home, it's definitely somewhat cluttered, but it's comforting that way. Unlike Dottore's lab, her cottage is more cozy than cramped, and her equipment is always tucked safely away, so none of the segments will run into it by accident and get hurt. A lot of her more dangerous tools are baby-proofed, because her son's segments are a handful, and also can be little idiots in the heat of the moment. She doesn't want any recreations of Julius Caesar happening in her living room, and that means putting the blades in the secret drawer for safekeeping.

-While you'd think that a man like Dottore would keep his cool when seeing his mother for the first time in literal months to preserve his dignity- you'd be wrong. In fact, he starts shouting at the top of his lungs, and once he reaches Mamatorre, he scoops her up like she weighs nothing, gives her a little spin, and continues to hug her until she manages to extract herself somehow. I mean, she's not much better, also shouting and hugging him back like it's the last hug she'll ever get, but they're both dramatic as all get out, let them have their moment. The segments have similar reactions, except it's a group hug that threatens to squish poor Mamatorre, but she's always delighted to see her favorite little ones. Even if they popped her back a little.

-She absolutely loves braiding little flowers into Danya's hair (and that of the other segments, if they'll stop eating the damn flowers out of her hand). Making little flower crowns and twisting flowers into their hair like she used to do with Dottore when he was little always brings a smile to her face, especially seeing the delight from Danya when he looks in the mirror. It takes some convincing to make any of them take it out, but that only makes her fondness grow.

-Mamatorre is quite lonely, actually. While she seems to be quite friendly, and the people in the nearby village like her quite a bit, she's not... close to anyone. Outside of her son and his cohort, that is. Sure, she knows a few harbingers from her son's letters, and has met a few wayward travelers throughout her time in the woods, but she's almost always alone. It's not that she likes being alone, quite the opposite, but those who are close to her always seem to leave. She won't stop trying to hold onto those she cares about, but it hurts, being old and alone in the middle of the woods, with no one but your son to take care of you. But alas, it's the reality of her life. Perhaps that's why she jumps so readily at the possibility of staying in Zapolyarny for a while, at least there she always has some sort of company, even if it's not the one she came for.

That's all I have for now, but more is coming! Enjoy!

[osddsilver]

Intricacies of a War Machine

A look into the mind of the Fireball Tamori shipped out to Fort Ciaran.

The sky above you settles into storm clouds lit from within by dull purple light. There are gaps between the clouds which you think indicate they are not entirely natural. There are stars behind them that indicate your location. Both the wizard who called you into being and the wizard who lent him that ability were gifted astronavigators. You did not need to know astronavigation, and so you do not. The clouds, though… a moment's thought and you know that they could be a form of abjurative magic or its byproduct. 

What is your name?

The man she was with, Silver, they call him, spares a glance at you and your ilk before he and his company are led in different directions. They will travel at the middle of the procession. More defensible, should Gaothmai attempt an advance. An officer orders you and 14 others to the back. 15 to the front. You will be the defense. It is a long road; you know how to march.

Names show where you come from. There is nobody from the Citadel. They are, at most, three generations removed from one of many other places. The Citadel has no names.

You must look ahead, but you can hear beautiful noises in the distance. They fall silent with your approach but there are always those too far ahead to have heard you and far enough behind to forget you. You overhear one of the lower ranking war wizards calling it birdsong. The snapping of twigs as some wildlife runs away into the woods. You wonder if you would be able to name it, if you caught a glimpse of it. 

What the Citadel does have are monikers that eclipse the person who claims them. The wizard who spoke to you was called Sky.

It is after two nights of marching that you notice the quiet ahead of you. You know what is to come now. The birds at your back still sing, at least.

You cannot speak to her motivation in leaving her name behind but you can feel the ghost of your creators’. The fear of his deeds left unrecorded. The fear of his deeds recorded.

They appear to have waited until the center of the procession was immediately before them. They have the ranged casters and archers alike hidden in the trees. Several foot soldiers approach the carriages in the center where the guard is at its thinnest. Hidden in their green robes but not invisible. Anything could be hiding in the trees and the narrow road makes detonations risky.

What kind of name would somebody like Sheer even be able to offer? A coward running from his actions as he takes them. You would destroy yourself immediately upon your creation- like many of your brethren before you- rather than accept his name. 

Your procession is being overwhelmed. With her eyes on the archers, your commander does not seem to have noticed the soldiers on your side of the road, approaching those most important wizards in the center. It is a strange sensation, breaking formation and stepping into the trees. Defiance of a direct order still in service of the empire. Someone might write a paper about you.

Names give people power over you, you do know that. A spirit whose true name is discovered is bound. You have had enough binding for several lifetimes, ones far longer than the one you have been given. 

You are delighted to find that the foliage does not burn at your touch. You move quickly but there is something in your path. A small creature with spindly legs that stares up at you, frozen in fear, from a bed of tamped grass. It would be in range. There's a small rock next to you and you toss it, right next to the thing’s hiding space. It bolts off, deeper into the woods. The noise could have alerted someone to your presence. The outcome would be the same for you.

They will talk about what you have done, of course, but your deeds will be attributed to that wizard which created you. You will be one anomaly of many. To discuss you will be to describe a path through a cladogram. You hope this means you will be put to rest sooner, but you know you were created by a very thorough people.

Your final act, your hand reaching into your own chest and grabbing tight, feels more familiar than anything else you have witnessed or done in the past days. When the boundary between what is you and what is not fails, it fails catastrophically. You try to hold on to the feeling of leaves on your skin, earth beneath your feet, and resentment in your heart, but they are all made of the gas currently fueling this thermal runaway. As the forest, the loam, the silent birds in the trees, the soldiers in their cloaks, and the road beneath them are transformed into a perfect, charred circle on the earth, you train your awareness on the snapping of twigs. Further, and further, and further away from here.

[pfirsichspritzer]

Rebelcaptain trees for @oh-nostalgiaa (AU, fantasy AU/magic AU/dragon riders and elves AU)

Here is a little AU idea for you, I hope you like it 😊

The moment the stranger steps into the dingy old tavern, all eyes are on him. He is human, tall and imposing, face drawn tight. His clothes are made from the finest fabrics one cannot find in this part of the realm and the sword strapped to his hip, forged from rare metal and emblazoned with precious gemstones, speaks of trouble. Patrons, regulars and travelers alike, muster him with suspicion and barely concealed hostility. They all know what he is. Dragon riders, Fire bringers, Sorcerers, they are called, their kind feared and admired across the lands, even though few have actually seen one in person. Guardians of the queen, keepers of peace, soldiers, flying on their fiery beasts to administer justice throughout the realm. Wherever they go, war isn’t far.

His gaze sweeps over the patrons, seemingly without a care in the world, until it lands on her. Jyn involuntarily shivers.

His footsteps seem to echo through the room as he slowly walks towards her, and they resonate in her very soul. When he stops in front of the counter, studying her with deep, dark eyes, she knows that her destiny has changed, if she wants it or not. He is here for a reason and the reason is her.

“A glass of your finest ale, please”, he orders and puts a handful of coins on the counter, that are more than she makes in a fortnight. He leans closer, and she involuntarily does so as well. His mouth is only mere inches from her ear when he speaks. “I’m here on behalf of the queen. She is looking for a powerful sorceress that is rumoured to live in these parts of the woods.”

Jyn scoffs. “Who told you that nonsense?”

He only musters her intently as an answer and she crosses her arms defensively, after placing the ale in front of him.

“There are no sorcerers in these woods, and we certainly do not need those magic dwelling scallywags here.” She waves her dirty rag dismissively in his direction. “So, do yourself and us a favour and be on your way again as soon as possible”

When she turns to serve the other patrons, she can see his bemused expression in the corner of her eyes. It vanishes as quickly as it appeared.

-

He waits for her when she leaves the tavern late at night through the backdoor. Leaning against a tree trunk, she almost doesn’t see him in the dark. But her senses have always been better than those of mere humans.

“What do you want?”, she asks, in equal amounts concerned and annoyed.

“I think you haven’t been honest with me before.”

“About what?” He doesn’t answer. Irritated, she turns around to leave.

He follows her.

“I can’t help neither you nor your queen.” She says over her shoulder without slowing her gate.

“Ah, but we both know that isn’t true, is it?”

Angrily she stops on the spot and whirls around, a familiar rage flaring up in the pit of her stomach.

“Let me phrase it differently: I do not want to help your queen. I have left your order years ago, when they decided that my heritage was too much trouble, that my mother’s blood was too dirty for them and the connections I have to the elves because of it, was too dangerous. I had to start my whole life anew, build everything I have here with my bare hands. They would have been glad to leave me for dead and suddenly they decided they want my help?”

He has taken a step back, holding up his hands in an appeasing manner. “Things have changed. The queen recognises that mistakes were made under her predecessor, and she wants to formerly apologize to you.”

Jyn scoffs and shakes her head in disbelief. “Why now?”

“The empire has become a threat in the eastern regions again and apparently, they have a new ace up their sleeve. It is rumoured to have something to do with your father, that he is working for them.”

“My father?” Jyn is barely able to keep her voice from shaking. “My father is dead.”

“We all thought so too. But it seems that he isn’t”

Now he is looking at her with something akin to pity and she hates it.

He seems to notice it too because he is quick to continue: “The queen wants to build an alliance with the elves, against the empire. Both our folks would benefit from it.”

“And she wants me as what? A token? A leverage?” Jyn feels horribly cold all of a sudden.

“She wants you as a diplomat to talk with them.”

“Do you think I would be living here in the middle of nowhere, if the elves cared even a little bit about me?”

It is all so laughable to her. That this new queen, barely a year on the throne, has now apparently decided to uproot her life and throw her back into a conflict she has sworn to take no part in ever again.

He musters her for a second, seemingly unsure if he should continue, but soldiers on, nevertheless “Your mother was the heir to their throne after all, before she ran off with a human.”

The fact that he does know this about her makes her heart clench painfully. So that’s what he meant before when he said she hasn’t been honest. Because she isn’t just a half-elf, but she is the daughter of an elven crown princess that fell from grace. Her tainted heritage that has resulted in her loosing so many good things in her live. Is this the next thing she will lose?

There is no time to focus on her fears now, though, when her blood is still burning with rage. Without another word she turns around and marches on. She hears his quiet sign behind her.

Wordlessly he follows her once more. They walk silently, side by side through the woods until her little hut becomes visible between the bushes and trees.

A giant, dark scaled lizard is napping next to it, his wings as wide as the meadow around her house if unfolded. He lifts his head when they approach, his glowing yellow eyes mustering her critically and he breaths out a puff of smoke.

Jyn involuntarily chuckles and steps forward, lifting her hand to pet his scaled snout. “Hello, Kay. It’s good to see you again. Please don’t set my home on fire, ok?” He just exhales another gust of hot air that ruffles her hair when she scratches his chin.

Her anger has disappeared now, she feels nothing but hollow.

“Let’s go inside”, she says half over her shoulder and doesn’t wait for an answer.

Her little home is cramped, filled with herbs and potions she sells to the villagers around. The money they are able to spare on this medicine is barely enough to get by.

Rogue greets her, jumping up and down, wanting to be held in her arms, even though he is too big for that now. She found him as a little kitten, a half-breed between a housecat and a mountain lion. Abandoned by the lions because he was too weak, feared by humans because he was too wild. Just like her, a part of two worlds but belonging to neither.

A hand gently touches her shoulder.

Slowly she turns around. His eyes are full of so many things: Regret, hut, betrayal.

“Do you despise me now? Because of my mother” Her voice is small, like the scared child she was when her mother died, when her father left her at the doors of the dragon riders order.

He looks vaguely sick even thinking about it. “Jyn, no, of course not.” He takes a deep breath. “I’m hurt you didn’t trust me enough to tell me.”

“I haven’t told anyone in a long time, Cassian. But if I would have trusted anyone enough to tell, it would have been you” She mumbles.

He doesn’t look completely appeased, but holds up his arms and she steps closer, sinking into his familiar embrace. It always makes her forget the world around her for a minute.

After a while where no one says anything, she finally asks: “The queen is determined to find me, isn’t she?”

“Yes. But she doesn’t know where you are. Doesn’t know about this, us.”

No one knows about them. They would have thrown him out of the order as well, the moment they knew. The thought of him losing everything like she had is unbearable to her.

“I can prolong the search for a few more weeks and you can flee, hide somewhere, until it dies down.” His voice is full of determination, he has always been lying on her behalf and if she asks him to continue, she knows he will do so untill his dying breath.

“But she will send someone else, won’t she? She won’t rest until she finds me, I’ll always be on the run.”

His heartbeat in her ear has always been her favourite sound. Though every moment listening to it has been borrowed, stolen time all along. She has the painful fear it is running out.

“And you will be fighting in this war, nonetheless. If my father really is helping the empire, who knows what they will be capable of doing. I can’t protect you from the side-lines.”, she mumbles into his chest.

He chuckles softly. “I don’t need your protection”

“Oh, yes you do, don’t you remember that I always beat your ass in a swordfight.”, she grins up at him, remembering the little boy with the shaggy hair and lanky arms.

“I’m not 12 anymore”, he scoffs indignantly.

“I know”, she says sadly, studying his face, trying to imprint every laugh line and every little winkle into her memory.

She wishes they were twelve again, without a care in the world, just two stupid apprentices in the order, before everything went to hell.

Jyn signs. “I will accompany you to her queen’s court. Listen to what she has to say.”

Cassian pulls her tighter into his embrace and kisses her forehead gently. She knows he feels it too, that their time is running out.

But she cannot run anymore, she has to face the world again and her parent’s legacy with it.

“Will you stay for the night”, she asks him, because if this is their last night together, she might as well enjoy it to the fullest.

“Of course. Always.” He mumbles against her skin and for now it is enough.

Who knows what the future will bring.

[gatheringfiki]

The following ficlet was written by @i-am-still-bb​ based on this photoset.

Fili/Kili, Teen

You might also be able to read this story on AO3.

If you’ve enjoyed this story, please leave a comment either in replies or on AO3. :)

The House at the End of the World

—

Darkness came with the first falling of snow. 

Here, in the cabin at the end of the world, the darkness did not leave and neither did the snow once they fell. Both were His constant companions until the first glow of sunlight peeked over the southern horizon in a few months’ time. The dark quiet of the world was beautiful and harsh in equal measures just like He was. 

He welcomed the light and warmth of the sun because it meant rest,  but he did not relish what else it brought.

When the first rays of sunlight appeared in the sky the white streaks of light that fell from the heavens and shook with His footsteps disappeared. When He left He took all the souls of the dead and departed that had gathered in the months of darkness with Him. The earth trembled when they left and awaited their return over the long months of abundance and life.

But gathering those spirits who lingered did not occupy all of His time. He oft wandered the woods and homes of the living to pass the time until found one who caught His gaze. After that when His work was done He would seek out the cabin by the stream with its bright warmth and its white washed walls. And there He would pass His time with the man who had halted His steps. Together they lingered long in the bed of white linen and endless time, fingers playing on hair, tracing the edges of His wings, sliding over smooth skin.

They did other things as well. The man brought traditions with him and together they sought out an evergreen tree and brought it inside and covered it in decorations that shimmered white and silver in the firelight. It reminded Him of snow gracing the branches of pine trees in the forest as He went about His work. 

There was the year that the small white cat joined them. How the kitten had survived and made it into the depths of the deep northern forests He would never know. But now the cat, Senka, as the man had named her, traveled to the cabin each year in a basket lined with furs in the back of the man’s wagon. Once there she received treats, head rubs, and ear scratches from them both.

That wagon changed over the years. First it was drawn by oxen, then horses, then no animals at all. Now it was a shiny silver car with stars emblazoned on the front. Right now it was tucked beneath the wide boughs of a pine next to the cabin. Time passed, but neither of them remarked upon it. The man developed a silver streak in his hair, but age did not touch him in any other way; His hair paled from a bright gold to something more tame. And so time passed for them both. They never spoke about how it was His job to keep lives short and what He did when he left that cozy cabin His face grim and his jaw set. 

Those were nights where he had to carry out His tasks. He took a mighty sword in hand; His eyes glowed blue; He spread his wings and went in search of those who resisted the call of their eternal sleep. He found them in all kinds of places; the dark northern woods, the warm cities of the south, the streets of cloud covered islands. When He found them He reached out His hand, skin turning dark and bones glowing through His epidermis. Some would cower, some thanked Him, and then there were those that resisted. Those He had to strike down to protect the order of the world and keep the wheel turning. 

They all left the world in the same way, a flash of light—white, green, or blue. And then they waited for the rising of the sun when they would be ferried into the next world when He left this one until the darkness returned once more. Then He would set his eyes on Home and the love waiting there for Him. 

When the warmth on the southern horizon became more than just a sliver they started saying their goodbyes. Neither of them used the words, but touches lingered, kisses were more urgent, neither wanted to be the first to get up in the morning or the last to go to bed. They never said goodbye in so many words, because it wasn’t really goodbye. The man would watch the sunlight increase and then fall again with the anticipation of going back to the cabin to wait for the end of the world when they would never be parted again.

[autisticwriterblog]

Fandom 50 Post 9

My eighth piece of Alan Wake 2 meta. This one is about Return 4.

Return 4: No Chance

What happened in this chapter?

As Saga travels back to Bright Falls, Alan and Casey are still in the field office at Elderwood Palace Lodge. Casey continues to interrogate Alan, accusing him of using people and thinking about how similar his life is to that of Alan’s character. As Alan deals with a headache and Casey insists that he isn’t Alan’s character, a group of masked and armed cultists surround the building. Alan rambles about how difficult writing is and how he might have stopped writing but then forgotten to stop writing, obviously confused by his time in the Dark Place.

A gunshot rings out and Casey grabs his gun as he orders Alan to get down. The Cult members yell that they just want Alan, but Casey doesn’t stand down. After Casey runs off to get a vantage point to fight the attackers, Alan’s headache overwhelms him, and he collapses to the floor. When he comes to, Alan finds himself and the room covered in blood, surrounded by dead cultists. He realises that Scratch must have escaped with him and caused this chaos.

He hears Casey in the distance, so Alan rushes outside. He finds a gun and flashlight and heads off in search of Casey, running into several Taken on the way. As he ventures through the woods outside Bright Falls, Alan doubles over in agony again, and passes out.

Saga arrives on the scene to find a cultist approaching the unconscious Alan with a knife. She shoots the weapon out of the man’s hand, knocking him to the ground. His mask falls off, revealing Ilmo Koskela. Before Saga has a chance to process the situation, members of the Federal Bureau of Control arrive on the scene. They arrest Alan and the Koskela brothers, and Agent Kieran Estevez informs her that her team are taking over the case and moving her evidence to the sheriff station. She asks if Saga has any other evidence to give them, but Saga doesn’t trust her with the Clicker and doesn’t hand it over. Even after being told she isn’t needed anymore, Saga refuses to give up on the case.

My Thoughts

For the first time, we play a Return chapter as Alan. A short but fascinating chapter, No Chance shows us what the hell happened between Saga leaving when everything was okay, and returning to this utter chaos.

I love the interactions between Alan and Casey, especially when Alan asks for a gun and Casey replies “no chance” in a direct parallel to the conversation Alan had with the fictional Casey earlier in the game. In general, Casey’s dislike of Alan makes perfect sense, considering that he has spend years and years being the subject of jokes about his name. Plus, reading Alan’s books and seeing how similar the character’s life is to his own must feel really disturbing. No wonder he isn’t fond of Alan.

In this chapter, we get confirmation that Ilmo is part of the Cult of the Tree, because Saga literally catches him in the act of trying to kill an unconscious Alan. With hindsight, we know that the Cult aren’t actually bad guys and Ilmo had a perfectly logical reason for why he thinks Alan needs to die, but on my first playthrough, I remember being confused and kind of hurt by this reveal. Because I really liked Ilmo and didn’t know how to feel about him trying to kill Alan, who I also really liked.

This chapter also introduces us to Kieran Estevez, a badass agent from the FBC who is here to take over Saga’s case. She tells Saga that Alan is a parautilitarian, a word that means nothing to someone who didn’t play Control (such as me the first time I played Alan Wake 2—the only Remedy game I played before 2 was Alan Wake Remastered), and something that makes perfect sense considering Control’s lore and the incredibly strange and powerful stuff Alan has done.

I love that Saga is too stubborn to accept she isn’t on the case anymore, because this case is directly tied to her family thanks to Alan’s story, so why would she just hand everything over to the FBC? Her choice makes perfect sense, is what I’m trying to say.

[butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway]

I'm trying not to do any daydreaming related to a specific house right now because that's a recipe for heartbreak, but the only way I'll stay motivated is if I do SOME kind of daydreaming about the future we're going to have once we get settled in a couple of months. I need to be able to create the path I'm going to be on in order to not just show up there in December and flounder aimlessly. So. Daydreaming under the cut I guess.

I've been thinking about making kitty climbers and a tree for them when we get to the new place from scrap wood, rope, fabric, and other supplies. The wifey and I have been imagining a sort of whole house jungle gym that allows the kitties to scumble around the walls of the house away from the dogs whenever they like, and get some fun kitty exercise, as well as to hide lil packed treaties around for them to hunt for enrichment. They've recently taken to "hunting" the dog's treat pack overnight and stealing all their treats lol, so clearly they could use they stalking time.

I think it'll be really good for all of us to not be so squished up together in such a small space, but adding levels for the cats so they can travel around in places where the dogs can't reach at all should be extra soothing for them, especially Taako who may take a while to adjust to climbing but I think will take to it beautifully once he learns how much freedom and privacy it offers him. Lup loves to climb things and go for adventures already so I expect as soon as she sees a new surface to climb on and smells the catnip on it she will be all over that shit.

I think I might tuck little potted catmint plants around the platforms too for them to nibble on at their leisure. Maybe silvervine for Taako too if I can find it. He can take or leave catnip but he LOVES silvervine. Apparently, it grows trellised, so I may see about growing it on wall mats or in a little window box for them. It'd be great to not have to source our kitty fun time plants from elsewhere anymore.

I want to also try my hand at constructing some sturdy bed crates for the dogs and making my own mattresses for them, rather than buying dog beds. That way each of the dogs can have their own nice little individualized space in the house, a bed, a food bowl, a waterer, and a snuggly. I want to get back to learning crochet soon because it's definitely a skill I want, and I figure a couple of doggie blankets are a perfect practice project. Maybe some easy crochet stuffies for Jaxxie to chew on and Tobi to snuggle with. That ought to be a good number of projects for me to work on too, as I'm settling in and trying to find my routine in the new place.

Between these, painting, establishing the garden, and finding furniture for the place at thrift shops, we should have enough on our hands for a good year of projects for the household. That'll give us time to start making connections, settle into the area, get to know our neighbors, and establish our routines. Year two is hopefully where things really get going.

First of all, in year two, I'm going to be taking on a much bigger role at work, including a title change, a pay increase, and a shift in the type of work I am doing. So financially, we'll be in much better shape, in an area where the cost of living is half what it is here, and with an established garden covering probably about a third of our food costs. If we're lucky, this is the point where we'll be able to get chickens, shifting our food costs down a smidge further (eggs is expensive and we go through a lot) and post up a little "take what you need, give what you can" farm stand with produce and eggs to give away excess food and start collecting a cash savings in addition to our normal one.

Regardless, year two is the absolute latest of when I expect that we'll start working with local food banks and community fridges to donate regular produce boxes for their patrons. My hope is that we can use this as a starting point to get involved with the local mutual aid scene and see what's needed and how we're best equipped to support that need, whether it be financial donations, volunteering our time, resource donations, logistical work, or other legwork. Wifey plans to make a career out of organizing at this point, and I'm happy to say that we're about to be very well set up to support (and finance) that as soon as these last few logistical puzzle pieces fall into place. My career is looking to be in great shape as well, and while I need to keep taking strides and putting in the work to keep it on track (there are definitely places where I am falling down on the job but it is largely due to either a) my brain is still doing a lot of avoidance that I am working to overcome via meds and therapy and b) oh god advancing your career in my field is so fucking expensive and right now i am stretched to my absolute breaking point just getting us through to house-get. I can't even think about CEUs and certifications. But once I'm done with all the deposits and inspections and paying rent I can't afford, I need to make sure that my first priority is getting my tf-cbt certifications and getting as close to emdr certification as I am allowed at my level. I should also really get started on some broader CEUs too, though I can probably find at least one or two good free ones between now and then. I have a couple in my files I can upload to my tracker already I think (hope I remembered to save those certificates!) and at least that would show I didn't completely ignore them for a year after graduation lol. Anyway maybe I'll find one to do this weekend so I can at least have a start on things.

One of the things I'm really looking forward to about being settled is getting to having the space to exercise again. I'm planning to start doing a morning pilates routine and a mid day strength training routine now that I'm going to have a real office and can leave space for myself to have a little exercise corner. I'm hoping that between the structured workouts and the functional work of gardening, I'll finally start to build my body back up now that I seem to be regaining health. I want to feel like I felt during the years I was doing daily pilates and strength training in college, like I used to feel as a kid. Strong, in tune with my body, capable. Not.....like I have been feeling for so long. I can't keep living like this. I need my body to be right, and that means HRT, that means top surgery, that means getting stronger, that means for once in my life not apologizing for my body but reveling in it. I want to get tattoos after top surgery, not to cover my scars, but to go where my nipples would be, cuz like. Why graft nipples back on when you could have cool tattoos, am I right? And I figure, once I have fun nipple tattoos, the world is my tattoo oyster from there lol. That tattoo artist is my tattoo artist for life if they were cool about that project and did a good job. Which works cuz I have like. Three tattoo designs in the works and once we're settled, and I'm making moves on HRT and shit, I can start sourcing queer tattoo artists in the area who might dig the idea of working with me on my ink.

Starting to get tattoos would be step one of allowing the reality of me to exist divorced and separate from professional me. I don't plan (yet) to get tattoos anywhere that would be seen on camera, so while professional me would exist as they always have, up close and personal me would have a different vibe.

Step two is clothes. It's time for me to stop wearing things just because "it fit and I can afford it". With a little luck my office will be big enough for three things: my work station, an exercise corner big enough for a yoga mat, and a sewing station with a sewing table and dress form matched to my body and a tuck away ironing station. I want to start making my clothes from scratch so I can have outfits I actually feel comfortable in. I think I also need to knit myself a good pair of long socks and buy myself an actual quality garter belt. I'm planning on wearing my boots from now on, because they're actually good shoes, but I have to wear socks with them, and in order to keep the socks from rolling down to my goddamn arches at some point during the day because god forbid the sock just stay put nooooo, my leg has to be shaped like the world's best slip n slide. So until I learn more about leatherwork, I'll have to be picking one up. The garters I have never actually keep the goddamn sock because they're just meant for shitty lingerie. I also want to grab a good pair of suspenders. I plan to be the world's classiest goddamn dyke.

Year two should see me in good shape to start doing that, because my body will probably be in a less dramatic state of flux after being on hormones for a while. Obviously the dramatic change of no titty will probably be yet to come, but I can probably bind, or get a good set of corsetry to manage that in the meantime.

Step three of making me again is hair. I gotta figure out this hair thing. I can't just keep letting it growing out completely wild and then hacking it off in a passion only to do the same thing all over again. I need to actually learn how to cut my hair properly into a hairstyle I'll like. I'm gonna give this one another go today because I think I have an idea of how to fix it up a little, but I'm a bit anxious that I fucked it lol.

[veteran-fanperson]

Fool's Gold - Chapter 3/10

Previous Chapters -

One

Two

Read on AO3 here

Summary:

The Kingdom of Malayadripuri, impoverished, inhospitable, set in the midst of barren hills, has long been subservient to the Gond Empire. Too beaten down to fight for independence, her people live in abject misery. An order from the Gond Emperor arrives one winter's evening, pushing Malayadripuri to its limits, forcing them to take a stand.

Rama Raju, one of the Royal Mages of Malayadripuri is sent to Tamaramandalam, the capital city of the Gond Empire. His mission is simple - Assassinate Komaram Bheem, Emperor of the Gonds.

Tamaramandalam is a whole new world. Its roads are wide and clean - Neem, Ashoka and Banyan trees growing thickly along the sides, providing a pleasant canopy to walk under. Water gushes out of many beautifully sculpted stone fountains, the smell of sandalwood incense and jasmine wafts from the various temples dedicated to Paidamma Talli. Everywhere he looks, Rama sees opulence - the gold, silks and gems sold on the streets like they were mere vegetables, enormous cattle being fed melons and carrots so fresh and fine, nobility in Malayadripuri would have had them on their tables. Women walk freely alone, bejewelled and perfumed, their laughter mixing with the tinkle of their heavy anklets. Children play happily, plump and well fed, their toys made from Ivory or Sal wood. 

Food is plentiful and delicious even at the cheapest lodging for travellers, rich in spices and ghee, coconuts and cashew. The serving ladies routinely press extra helpings on Rama, but the food sticks in his throat. Everyone is kind and unfailingly polite, and Rama wonders afresh if the cityfolk realise that dogs and crows in their Empire lead better lives than the unfortunate civilians of Malayadripuri. The thoughts enrage him afresh every time he sees the outlines of the Palace against the rising sun, his hands itching to wring their oppressor’s neck.  

+

“I would like to seek employment within, please,” Rama asks one of the Palace guards.

The man looks him up and down and nods, seemingly satisfied.

“Go inside through that side gate and ask for Loki,” he says, scratching his beard, “she’ll decide what to do with you.”

Rama nods, relieved and confused by the seeming lack of questions. They had decided that he would be the one to scout the Palace first, given that his magic made it easy for him to escape if something went wrong.

The place is massive. Rama passes a maze of gardens and little buildings, all strangely deserted.

“Excuse me, where can I find Loki?” he asks a passing maid.

“Oh, you’ve taken the wrong path,” the young girl giggles, “alright, go down the lime walk and past the stables. The Kitchens are further ahead. Loki should be in the housekeeper’s office at about now.”

“Thank you.”

The girl nods and smiles as she disappears.

The lime walk is cool and fragrant, and Rama finds himself stopping every so often to admire the lovely budding flowers. Spring is almost here, and the thick carpet of flowers on the sides of the path make for a charming scene. He gathers up a couple of parijatas, marvelling at their delicate petals. He had only ever seen them in picture books.

He’s passing the stables when he realises he still can’t see the Royal kitchens. Or any other building, for that matter. Just how large are the palace grounds? Confused, he’s about to retrace his steps when he hears scuffling noises from within.

“I should get the bigger share, come on, I did the actual stealing bit!” A man’s voice rings from within, deep and rich.

“I don’t think you took that big a risk, come on…” someone else wheedles.

“Excuse me?” Rama calls. There’s a sudden hush. Curious, he peers inside to see a stable hand and a little girl sitting around a rather large dish on a huge mound of hay, their mouths sticky with what looked like syrup.  

“I hate to… disturb you, but I’m afraid I’m a bit lost,” he begins again, but the stable hand leaps up and drags him by the arm. Rama makes a little oof as he’s made to sit next to him.

“He’s new, he decides.”  

Rama stares at him. Up close, the man is beautiful. Large, clear dark eyes with eyelashes a mile long, wild curly hair and beard, a plain copper nose ring. There’s an impish smile on his face, which only serves to emphasise the fullness of his lips. He’s dressed in a rough looking short dhoti, a towel thrown casually across very broad shoulders. 

“What’s your name?” the little girl asks him and Rama jerks away from the beautiful one’s gaze.

“Rama Raju.” He answers automatically, cursing himself a second too late. An alias would have been preferable. 

“Well, Rama, consider this. This impossible girl - Malli,” the child nods at Rama, her gap toothed smile wide, “She wanted me to steal some baked sweet potatoes from the kitchens and I did-”

“I helped, you idiot.” Malli interrupts.

“But I was the one in the line of fire, so don’t I deserve the last potato? It’s the best one too - so plump and juicy and wonderful smelling!”

“Yes, if I hadn’t caused a diversion you wouldn’t have even gotten in,” Malli grumbles, “if anyone was in the line of fire, it was me!”

“What do you say, Rama?” His eyes are so, so utterly black and bewitching that Rama finds himself entranced, unable to answer for a few moments. 

“I…” he looks at the dish, “to be honest, I think I deserve the last potato, seeing as this dish is very large and very empty. So the two of you have had a good deal of potatoes already… it would be rude of you to invite me to arbitrate and not offer me some in return.”

Malli snorts as the stable hand gapes at him. Rama smiles.

“He's got a point you know,” Malli says. And before the other can say anything she grabs the potato and shoves it into Rama's surprised mouth unceremoniously. He suppresses a groan when he takes a bite, nothing had ever tasted as good in his entire life. The potato is crispy and sweet, the jaggery coating smelling of camphor and spring sunshine.

“Based on that reaction, you deserve it,” the man says, an amused smile playing on his beautiful lips “never had a sweet potato before?”

“Nothing like this, no. In my country we eat plain food. Any richness is considered a needless indulgence and...” he breaks off, annoyed with himself. The sweetness seems to have loosened his tongue more than necessary.   

“I’ve never seen you around here,” the man says thoughtfully, “you said you were looking for Loki?”

“Oh yes,” Rama answers, his words muffled slightly as he chews, “I’m new to Tamaramandalam… and I am looking for a job. Someone told me the Palace always needs more cleaners, so…” he shrugs.

“Yes, there’s always something or the other available,” Malli says, “She’s a bit scary, but if you don’t get intimidated and work hard, she’ll like you.”

“Oh?” Rama asks her, “what is it like, the job? And the Emperor? What is he like to work under?”

“With a face that pretty and underfed?” the man winks at him, “I doubt you’ll need to do any work at all with all the maids queuing up with bowls of payasam -” he grunts as Malli pushes him off the hay, “I’m just pulling his leg!”

Rama stares at the stable hand, who is glaring up at Malli from where he’s sprawled on the ground.

“I don’t understand.”

Malli opens her mouth, but is interrupted by an almighty yelling coming from outside.

“IF YOU LOT HAVE STOLEN YET ANOTHER DISH I’LL WRING YOUR NECKS - ”

“Oh, blessed Paidamma, she’s here!” Malli yelps before she takes off like a deer, leaving a very confused Rama and the still prone stable hand.

A large grey haired lady comes tramping into the stables, a heavy looking bronze ladle in her hands. She takes one look at the man and gives a disgusted snort.  

“I should've known it was you… why can’t you wait until lunchtime like a normal human being, boy?”

Said boy stands up, attempting to smile.

“Oh come on, Gaanavakka -” he starts to wheedle.

“Not another word out of you! And you bet you’re going to pay for this when I tell your brother about this. Now go and clean up, you and your new friend .”

Rama gets to his feet as she glares at him, mouth going dry. Not even an hour in and he is already in trouble. What possessed him to forget what he is really there for?

“Come on Rama,” the man says, looking a little sheepish, “I’ll take you to Loki after we make you look a little more presentable.”

Gaanavakka gives Rama a keen look as he follows the other out. Rama feels like his soul is being peered into and shuffles uncomfortably until they’re out of sight, his heart thumping wildly. ‘Remember the mission. The mission. Only one chance to get it right.’ he tells himself as he washes his face quickly at the nearby well.

The Royal kitchens are large, as is everything in this Palace. A frenzy of voices and good natured shouting and chopping noises surround them as they pass through. A couple of maids glare at his companion as they walk towards the back, and Rama assumes it must be because of the potato theft earlier. The other man seems unfazed though, smiling jauntily at them, and Rama finds himself briefly taken again by just how attractive he is.    

“Here we are,” the stable hand says cheerfully, knocking on an imposing looking door.

“Come in,” a sharp voice sounds from inside, and he pushes it open and breezes inside, beckoning to Rama.

A beautiful young woman looks up from her desk, frowning when she sees them.

“There you are,” she drawls, ignoring Rama’s presence, “what did you do this time?”

“Nothing,” he waves her off, “I brought you a new employee.”

She turns her piercing dark eyes on Rama, and it takes him a minute to collect himself enough to speak.

“Greetings, madam. My name is Rama Raju. I’m new to Tamaramandalam, and am hoping to find a job here. The guard outside told me to speak to you.”

“Hire him,” the stable hand says, before Loki could say anything. His posture had straightened, his eyes suddenly sharp and commanding. “He has neat nails.” 

Loki sighs.

“Well if you’ve made up your mind, I guess I don’t need to ask your boy anything.”

The other man smiles, all good humour and sunshine, before he claps Rama on the shoulder.  

“Right, I’d better get back to work. You stay with Loki, she’ll show you the ropes.”

He lopes off, whistling.

“Thank you for showing me the way here.” Rama offers weakly to the other man’s retreating back.

“How did you get Bheema to escort you?” Loki asks him curiously.

“Bheema?” Rama stutters. “Who Bheema?”

She gives him a long, incredulous look and Rama feels like slapping himself. Of course. Komuram Bheem.

“You are new to Tamaramandalam.”

“Was that…?”

“That was the Emperor.”

Rama gapes at her, wanting to sink into the floor in mortification.

“He had stolen some sweet potatoes and was sharing it with a small child,” he protests, “neither of them told me.”

But both of them had laughed, and had had a giant joke at his expense. He blushes red, suddenly longing for Malayadripuri, where everyone knew their place in society, and supreme leaders certainly did not dress like ragged ruffians and steal things from kitchens.

“He’s bored,” Loki sighs, “he’s not allowed to ride this week, only visit that beloved horse of his, no wonder he’s up to mischief.”

She smiles at Rama’s woebegone face.

“Cheer up, boy. You have a lot of rooms to clean.”