#(( Cowardly hiding like this and trying to ruin my time while my brain is already hanging on my a fucking thread ))

[machinesandman]

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[hinamesh]

“Prince Aegon is a man grown, Princess” (Spoilers)

This post that I made on Reddit but I decided to share it here as well.  For those people who think Young Griff/Aegon was just a stupid boy.

It was Lemore who forced the water from your lungs after Griff had pulled you up. You [Tyrion] were as cold as ice, and your lips were blue. Yandry said we ought to throw you back, but the lad [Aegon] forbade it.

Here we've seen a glimpse of his compassionate side. Do not think of him like Joffrey, he gives Tyrion a chance to live on, showing him mercy.

Perhaps you should be the fool instead of me. Trust no one, my prince. Not your chainless maester, not your false father, not the gallant Duck nor the lovely Lemore nor these other fine friends who grew you from a bean. Above all, trust not the cheesemonger, nor the Spider, nor this little dragon queen you mean to marry. All that mistrust will sour your stomach and keep you awake by night, ’tis true, but better that than the long sleep that does not end.”

Meeting Tyrion is truly the turning point of his life. Because of Tyrion he learns to be doubtful and wary of the people around him, he stopped being the naive boy that he once was. As you can see in the future passage after Aegon met with Tyrion, he started to changed.

"I like the sound of that. My army.” A smile flashed across his [Aegon] face, then vanished. “Are they, though? They’re sellswords. Yollo [Tyrion] warned me to trust no one.”

He is not stupid and that naive anymore. He is starting to question stuffs. He didn't ignore Tyrion's advise and actually listen because his advise actually a good one. Showing a bit of his capability as the judge, a skill that needed for a future leader like him.

That dwarf had already planted enough doubts in his young head. “Not every man is what he seems, and a prince especially has good cause to be wary … but go too far down that road, and the mistrust can poison you, make you sour and fearful.” King Aerys was one such. By the end, even Rhaegar saw that plain enough. “You would do best to walk a middle course. Let men earn your trust with leal service … but when they do, be generous and openhearted.”

The boy [Aegon] nodded. “I will remember.”

Fortunately JonCon was on his side, he gave him a wise advise to walk a middle course. I don't think Aegon will walk on the path where he will be distrustful towards everyone like Tyrion's advise, but he will try to be in the middle following JonCon's advise as he said that he will remembered that. This is showing his grown from a boy to a man grown. He has good skill of listening to what is good for him.

This proof with his next action in ADWD, to earn the men's trust.

“The demon road is death. We will lose half the company to desertion if we attempt that march, and bury half of those who remain beside the road. It grieves me to say it, but Magister Illyrio and his friends may have been unwise to put so much hope on this child queen.”

No, thought Griff, but they were most unwise to put their hopes on you.

And then Prince Aegon spoke. “Then put your hopes on me,” he said. “Daenerys is Prince Rhaegar’s sister, but I am Rhaegar’s son. I am the only dragon that you need.”

He is starting to take charge of his own path. The golden company did not just give their allegiance towards Aegon easily, it was Aegon who actually pursued their trust and won it himself, using his words. But some of you quick to dismissed this skill of his.

Griff put a black-gloved hand upon Prince Aegon’s shoulder. “Spoken boldly,” he said, “but think what you are saying.”

“I have,” the lad insisted. “Why should I go running to my aunt as if I were a beggar? My claim is better than her own. Let her come to me … in Westeros.”

Yes, some of you would say he was just being a brat here, but he was not. He was trying to recruit them onto his team, showing his confidence and claim. A bit of pride that a leader must have. And this was actually work. One of the golden company squires, Franklyn Flowers actually bite the idea.

Franklyn Flowers laughed. “I like it. Sail west, not east. Leave the little queen to her olives and seat Prince Aegon upon the Iron Throne. The boy has stones, give him that.”

Aegon is actually earned the man interest and manage to impress him in the process.

“Has the sun curdled your brains, Flowers? We need the girl. We need the marriage. If Daenerys accepts our princeling and takes him for her consort, the Seven Kingdoms will do the same. Without her, the lords will only mock his claim and brand him a fraud and a pretender. And how do you propose to get to Westeros? You heard Lysono. There are no ships to be had.”

“Which plan?” said Tristan Rivers. “The fat man’s plan? The one that changes every time the moon turns? First Viserys Targaryen was to join us with fifty thousand Dothraki screamers at his back. Then the Beggar King was dead, and it was to be the sister, a pliable young child queen who was on her way to Pentos with three new-hatched dragons. Instead the girl turns up on Slaver’s Bay and leaves a string of burning cities in her wake, and the fat man decides we should meet her by Volantis. Now that plan is in ruins as well.

He did not received a full approval of the idea immediately from the group, some did counter his idea, but the other started to question their original plan. Considering Aegon's idea more seriously.

“Prince Aegon,” said Tristan Rivers, “we are your men. Is this your wish, that we sail west instead of east?”

“It is,” Aegon replied eagerly. “If my aunt wants Meereen, she’s welcome to it. I will claim the Iron Throne by myself, with your swords and your allegiance. Move fast and strike hard, and we can win some easy victories before the Lannisters even know that we have landed. That will bring others to our cause.”

These words of his manage to bring the golden company to his cause. He managed to pursue them, they approved his idea, not Varys/Illyrio's plans. An important note that people often forget. It was Aegon who gave the decision for the path to Westeros not someone else.

When all of them began to speak at once, Griff knew the tide had turned. This is a side of Aegon I never saw before. It was not the prudent course, but he was tired of prudence, sick of secrets, weary of waiting.

The side that JonCon himself never have seen before, Aegon capability as a leader who manage to bring men follow his wishes and idea. The tide had turned because of him, he was the one who responsible for the changing plan not JonCon/Illyrio/Varys. I think that was an impressive side of him that we must take note for the future books.

One by one, the men of the Golden Company rose, knelt, and laid their swords at the feet of his young prince[Aegon]. The last to do so was Homeless Harry Strickland, blistered feet and all.

When they knelt before him, it was Aegon's succeed, he earned the men trust. He didn't even ask nor order them to bow and kneel at him, they were doing it because they wanted to.

A solid man, and true, Connington thought as he watched Duck dismount, but not worthy of the Kingsguard. He had tried his best to dissuade the prince from giving Duckfield that cloak, pointing out that the honor might best be held in reserve for warriors of greater renown whose fealty would add luster to their cause, and the younger sons of great lords whose support they would need in the coming struggle, but the boy [Aegon] would not be moved. "Duck will die for me if need be,” he had said, “and that’s all I require in my Kingsguard. The Kingslayer was a warrior of great renown, and the son of a great lord as well.”

This passage again shows that he isn't just a stupid boy, he learns from history and not that naive anymore. He knows what will protect him and not. A man grown who has his own belief and thought of what's right and wrong.

No, I want Duck to stay.” The prince sat. “We’ve been talking with Strickland and Flowers. They told us about this attack on Storm’s End that you’re planning.”

Jon Connington did not let his fury show. “And did Homeless Harry try to persuade you to delay it?”“He did, actually,” the prince said, “but I won’t. Harry’s an old maid, isn’t he? You have the right of it, my lord. I want the attack to go ahead … with one change. I mean to lead it.”

Again, he is not Joffrey who cowardly hides himself behind his army, Aegon takes the initiative to lead himself, ready to risk his own life. (Spoiler TWOW) He does sucessfully doing so based on Arianne II TWOW, where they manage to take Storm's End. I think Lysono Maar has seen his bravery to the point he quicks to defend him from her insult by saying "Prince Aegon is a man grown." which I think as a reader should not dismissed it easily and give him some space to develop as a character.

Bonus, a chapter that showing a glimpse of his fighting skill..

When they fought with mace or blunted longaxe, Ser Rolly’s greater size and strength would quickly overwhelm his charge with swords the contests were more even. Neither man had taken up a shield this morning, so it was a game of slash and parry, back and forth across the deck. The river rang to the sounds of their combat. Young Griff landed more blows, though Duck’s were harder. After a while, the bigger man began to tire. His cuts came a little slower, a little lower. Young Griff turned them all and launched a furious attack that forced Ser Rolly back. When they reached the stern, the lad tied up their blades and slammed a shoulder into Duck, and the big man went into the river

So stop saying he was just a stupid feign boy, he is a character that still growing and hasn’t shown his full potential yet. So please give him a chance to show that in the next book. This person is Dany’s future rival and do you think GRRM will write him as just a lame character? No, I think he won't just throw this chance easily, he will sure use this to make the plot more thicken.

[theluckyyyoneee]

Guise

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader (ft. Namjoon)

Genre: Angst/Fluff(in later parts)

Word Count: 2.4+k

part 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 |

SoulmateAU! Where he hides his soulmate tattoo from everyone, especially you.

Twirling your mechanical pencil around between your middle and pointer finger of your right hand, you zoned off into the great distance, eyeing the chipping paint on the walls as you felt utterly drained and exhausted, in all physical, mental and emotional senses. 

The life of a rushed college student trying to find the right balance between studying and self care and also incorporating enough of a social life to remain sane was seemingly impossible, and you were terrible at time management as you proved to yourself time and time again. Especially when finals were approaching at a fearful rate and you felt like you hadn’t prepared nearly as much as needed to ace the exams.

Huffing as you collapsed onto the desk in front of you, you heard the throaty chuckle besides you as you peered at Namjoon through your lashes and a few strands of wild hair that crept on your cheeks. “Take a nap, I’ll wake you up in thirty minutes. I’ll make sure no one bothers you.” He sweetly offered, his dimples popping through as he eye smiled at you through his own fatigue.

Propping your head on your hand with your elbow resting on the table, you couldn’t help but observe the deadly handsome and gentle man next to you. 

He was such a good guy, you mused as you watched his profile, his own tattoo placed behind his right ear that would eventually bond him with his ‘soulmate’, a being who the universe had decided all on their own that would complete and make the other person happy. You wondered what kind of person his soulmate was. 

Namjoon and you were so close, you two had bonded over each other’s respective clumsiness and forgetfulness in your freshman year of college, yet you found it a bit odd how you didn’t really know his stance on the whole soulmate thing. He never talked about the physically minuscule mark on his body that would have an enormous role in his life. Always presented a stoic, almost indifferent expression when he laid eyes upon the numerous couples along campus, never had expressed any longing towards a significant other either. 

“Can I ask you something?” 

He childishly snickered a little and gazed down at you with that attractive little smirk (authors note: omg imagine if he rlly looked at u like that id be dead) he did when he was about to tell a predictable joke. “You just did.” You mouthed the words along with him and rolled your eyes at him, a smile finding your lips anyway. He nodded at you and waited expectantly and suddenly you found yourself the tiniest bit shy.

Briefly pondering what would have happened if the two of you somehow shared the same tattoo, if somehow the two of you were each other soulmates. Would he had hid it if he noticed it before you did like Yoongi? No, you reasoned, he wasn’t that kind of person. He preferred to confront situations head on. Maybe you wouldn’t have hated the idea so much if you had a soulmate like Namjoon.

Instead the universe deemed your ‘perfect other half that will definitely complete you’ as an egotistic, douchebag named Min Yoongi.

“What do you feel about the whole soulmate thing?” Your voice was as small as a mouse and you saw his face drop a bit from his peaceful expression, making you tilt your head in confusion. His jaw tightened and his overall presence and posture suddenly became very rigid.

Clearing his throat, he turned his attention back to his studies as he answered with stiff casualness, “I don’t really have an opinion on it. I’ll worry about it when it happens.”

You could tell that he seemed very uncomfortable with the topic and you wanted to apologize for ruining the light atmosphere. It all of a sudden felt thick with tension between the two of you and you had no idea why.

So you hummed as nonchalantly as you could and turned away, “Ah, I see...” reminding and praying that you remembered to try and get Namjoon to open up a bit when he was ready.

But for now you turned away to your own notes and thought of your own predicament you were dealing with.

Keeping your lips sealed after what happened in that cursed classroom a few weeks ago, you had told no one and determined that it was just a bad nightmare, an irrational and delusional nightmare you wanted to forget ever having. 

Namjoon was Yoongi’s friend... kind of. Well, you knew that they at least tolerated each other. 

Should you just tell Namjoon what had occurred and ask for advice about what to do next?

No, let’s not make him even more uncomfortable, you sighed and laid your head back on the desk and allowed your dreary eyelids to shut as you recalled what happened that dreaded afternoon. 

You really did not want to believe it.

Even if it turned out to be true, you wanted to run away even if it was cowardly but before you even knew what the hell you were doing, you were taking large strides to Yoongi’s frozen figure in the seat, both gasping at the shock and warm sensation you felt from finally making physical contact for the first time. 

You had heard people talking about it, how the two persons involved felt electrified and so connected to each other and their bond. And although you couldn’t really argue with that statement, you didn’t feel particularly too connected to him at that moment. You guessed the emotions were consequences of the particular revelation.

Yes, his skin was smooth and warm to the touch, and an insane part of you had the idea to run your fingers down his wrist to meet his own in an intertwined embrace. Until the more rational side, your preferred and more dominant side, clued in the jagged and broken pieces as best as it could and suddenly everything made sense, heart thundering in your chest as you broke down your late epiphany as best as you could.

Throwing his arm down harshly, you couldn’t get the image of your tattoo out of your head-the one slightly bigger than an inch-the one you somehow shared with the man in front of you. Only now were you able to decipher the strange intricate lines-it had been both of your initials in some abstract handwriting.

Looking back at it now, you felt like such an idiot to not see the MYG that was so blatantly and obviously there, mocking you, forever etched on your skin, not at all welcomed there.

Releasing a shaky exhale as you tried your hardest to remain calm, you stared at Min Yoongi, that damned loon that somehow thought it a good idea to keep such an important detail to himself, had still not moved from his frozen stature and had dark, wide unblinking eyes stare frightened back at you. 

“You’re my soulmate?” As soon as the words escaped your lips, it felt all wrong. “How long have you known?” 

How long had you known him for?

Why was it him?

Imitating a fish, his mouth opened and shut numerous times before uttering, “Since the day we met.”

The memory burned fresh in your brain. You had been completely and immediately enamored with him at the first glance of him, and had the vaguest feeling that your feelings were mutual. When he had suddenly grew even paler than he already was and his lovely eyes widened to their maximum extent, you wanted to ask what the matter was, your soulmate tattoo subconsciously in full view.

Until he gazed at you like you had just cursed him out with your finest curse, most disgusting insults. It had oddly felt like he took part of your soul with him when he disappeared that day. 

It had seemed he was avoiding you every time he caught a glimpse of you, there was no chance in hell you were going to get to know him better if you couldn’t even get closer than twenty feet of him. One second you were making eye contact with him, then the next he was pressed against some girl all the while keeping gazes with you, not understanding why your stomach would knot in jealousy and loneliness, when normally you were not like this at all.

“You...” He had known all this time. Of course, why would he suddenly start to wear all those hoodies and sweaters in this scorching heat, with beads of sweat clinging to his temple? How he always seemed to claw at his sleeves whenever you were near? How the gorgeous girls he had flirted with in front of you filled with such insecurities just from looking from afar?

Min Yoongi was your soulmate?

What a joke.

“You knew this whole time?” You stupidly had finally spit the whole phrase out into the open air, the silence deafening as the two of you faced each other, each heart thundering in your chests. 

Yoongi had finally risen from his fixed posture at the desk and stood up, taking a tentative step forward before stumbling back a few shaky steps.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” You hated that you sounded so pathetic, so desperate even to yourself. 

It wasn’t as if you had even wanted to meet your soulmate, the fact that he hid it from you probably meant that he didn’t want you, right? So you should be happy you weren’t tied to someone who was going to tie you to him, but why did the thought of him possibly not wanting you break your heart into pieces?

Maybe there was such a thing as a soulmate bond after all, if your whole being was being torn like this, this much.

His demeanor seemed to change in an instant, and he had lost all past vulnerability and uncertainty. Jaw clenched and eyes narrowed on you he spat out, “You think this makes sense?” He gestured between the two of you quickly, trying to keep his voice low in case any other students were lingering out in the halls, although unlikely, and you could sense his shame from where you were standing. “Us? That you’re my soulmate?”

It was like the roles had reversed and now you were the frozen one, an ache formed deep in your stomach as you registered his words. But they were the ones you had wanted to say to him a few minutes ago, so why were you feeling this way?

“I’ll tell it to you straight,” he continued, not giving you a moment to collect yourself. “I don’t want people finding out you’re my soulmate. It’s embarrassing, and since you never bothered to hide it, I have to.” He bent down and grasped his discarded hoodie from the ground and shook it in your direction. “Do you know how fucking bothersome is it to always have to wear this twenty four seven? In this weather? Huh?”

You didn’t bother answering, feeling yourself get worked up over his words had you breaking out of your moment of dejection and nodded, exhaling harshly. Right, you could overcome this. But first you had to show him that you weren’t just going to stay silent and weak when he was insulting you.

Embarrassing? He was embarrassed of you? He should have just told you when he had first found out, that way things wouldn’t have been this twisted. The two of you could have coolly and casually gone your separate ways, but for some reason you felt betrayed. 

“Look, we have nothing in common, and to be honest, this whole soulmate shit is really fucking unfair.” It seemed he was becoming a bit drained, like his newfound energy had dissipated as fast as it had come. 

“I wouldn’t say we have nothing in common,” you trailed off, meeting his glare with one of your own, though his faltered a bit at your unexpected words, looking at you the tiniest bit puzzled. A bitter smile gracing your lips, you raised your eyebrows a bit as you continued, gaining a bit of satisfaction at the look of surprise on Yoongi’s face. “It’s not like I want you, either.”

“Y/N wake up.” You were being shook gently back and forth by Namjoon, his dimpled smile being the first sight you see when you open your eyes. He chuckled under his breathe as you sluggishly lift your weary body up, and groaning in pain as you feel one your ribs were pressing on the edge of the table, an ache forming and stabbing every time you moved. Sitting up, you noticed a very familiar light cardigan draped around your shoulders, and you gaze starstruck and touched up at Namjoon, silently thanking him for covering you, knowing you always got cold when you slept. 

He ruffled your hair affectionately in answer as you attempted to rub the remaining sleepiness from your eyes and fix your appearance so it was more presentable, handing the cardigan back to him. “You were sleeping so soundly, I didn’t want to wake you,” he smiled apologetically. “but the library is closing soon, and I’d feel better if you slept in your own bed instead of this stiff chair.”

It was only then you noticed the lack of people around and you felt heat crawl up your neck and cheeks, wondering why if you had slept so long why you felt even more exhausted than before. “Thanks, and sorry for making you study by yourself...” you trailed off, standing up and slinging your bag on your shoulder as the two of you slowly made your way out of the library, nodding politely to the librarian behind the wide oak desk.

“No worries, but I do expect some coffee from you tomorrow, just saying.” It had gotten a bit dark and there was a bit of a breeze and you froze as Namjoon suddenly draped the cardigan over your shoulders once again. Your fingers met when you both fixed the collar and it made you grip the fabric tighter around yourself when he quickly pulled away, clearing his throat and avoiding your gaze. 

You agreed to his proposition as casually as you could and stumbled a little when you made eye contact with the one and only Min Yoongi, who was also just seemed to leaving for the day, his strong gaze alternating between you and Namjoon, and the cardigan around your shoulders.

wow i have not written this much in a really long time so i’m actually pretty proud of myself lol. lmk what u guys thought down in the comments or messages! as always thanks to everyone who is reading and to everyone who left those supportive comments they really made my day and i appreciate all of you!!<3

T O    B E    C O N T I N U E D .  .  .

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[wishingnova]

Okay I’m seriously working on the next chap but look at this gem I found when I was trying to figure out the plot/direction of TCaF

At your look, she rolled her eyes. “Oh come now __________. You had a fairy as a mother, and her blood runs thick through you. You don’t really think a simple bonk like that would have erased the Prince’s memories completely, do you?” She smiled, putting her hand under her chin.

               Of course not. Even from the first moment you laid eyes on Fishsti- Sidon, you could tell he had been enchanted. But you had thought it was a folly he had brought upon himself – something princes or princesses usually have happen to them in all the old tales for doing something foolish to a more powerful being. “You’re saying that…someone purposely erased his memories.”

               Kaysa chortled. “Well, not purposely, per se!” Then she became graver. “I suspect that they had intended to kill the Prince entirely. Their spell merely missed, or was only strong enough to kill his sense of identity. And because of your interference, even that did not play out!”

               Your breathing became ragged. Because this meant not only was Sidon still not safe, but someone would still be trying to kill him. Your grip on your hook tightened to the point of the wood creaking. “Kaysa, who did it? You must tell me!”

               The Great Fairy gazed at you sadly. “I am sorry, child. My power is great, but this one’s power is…different. Ancient, even. They hide themselves from mine and my sister’s view. Though, it does seem that they do not know yet how to wield it properly.”

               “Wield it prop…” you shook your head. You had to think. “I have to go back to him. His kingdom is still in danger if he is in danger.”

               The Fairy sighed. “And you are right with that. My sisters and I have been feeling this disturbance ever since Prince Sidon was found again. Whoever enchanted him is not pleased that their plan did not work out.”

               “Then why not try to kill him again?” You swallowed thickly. You didn’t understand. If this supposed sorcerer was displeased by Sidon’s return, why was he still alive? Your eyes searched the ground as if the answer would sprout from it. “…Wait.” Your eyes squinted. “When Sidon was first struck…he was fighting a beast that was threatening a village. That was when the sorcerer tried to off him. He or she tried to make it look like…like it was an accident.”

               Kaysa smiled as you began figuring it out. You always were a bright little fae. “Indeed. And why would they do that?” She prompted.

               You laughed bitterly. It was too obvious. “So that they could not be found! If they found Sidon with markings of foul play, especially from a magic wielder, the kingdom would be in a tizzy finding who murdered their beloved prince!” Your teeth ground together. “And King Dorephan would be left a lone monarch with no more heirs to lead in his stead. The sorcerer could either off him or…simply wait for Dorephan to pass. And with his grief, Dorephan would surely have passed much more quickly had Sidon not been found. The scheming little –“

               “Politics are always messy, aren’t they.” Kaysa sighed. “It is obvious that whoever is behind this assassination attempt is trying to either come into power themselves, or be rid of the Zora Kingdom altogether. I’m more inclined to the former, from my vast experience.”

               You shook your head. Your hand held your mask as your brain raced to find answers to more and more questions. “But why? Why the Zoras? Hyrule is already in tatters and being rebuilt by Zelda – slowly. Why not try for that kingdom?” Why come after my Sidon? You asked sullenly.

               And the Great Fairy sighed, the flowers around her Fountain swaying with her breath. “That is also something that is hidden from me. Mortals and their reasonings have always boggled me, if I’m being honest.” She clapped her hands suddenly. “Well! What shall we do then, my dear? Shall we return you to your forest, to live with the Koroks in peace, with no care for the outside world?” She leaned down closer, a knowing smile on her pretty lips. “Or shall we do something about this, and save our Fishsticks in distress?”

               You stared at her. Gripped your hook. Sighed. “But how? If I return to the kingdom, I will be the fish out of water. The sorcerer will not need magic to see a Hylian fae wondering around the Domain. I will be captured, or killed, if not immediately then soon. And Sidon – and the kingdom – will be at their mercy.” You shook your head, feeling defeated. “I will need time to find them if they can hide even from your sight.”

               “And I shall give you the time you need, child.” Her hands rubbed together. Sparkles began falling out from them, silvery and purple and blue. She rubbed them faster and faster, until it seemed a whole waterfall of magic light was pouring out of them. You edged away, suddenly worried. What in the name of Hylia was she doing?

               “This will last you quite a while, ________. Do not be careless, though. My magic is powerful, but should the sorcerer suspect and use their magic to reveal you, your guise will break, and you will be exposed. Arms out!” And she opened her hands and blew at you. An entire cloud of magic dust spread throughout the clearing, with only your startled yelp rising up out of it.

               The cloud cleared within a few moments. You coughed, feeling magic going up your nose like water. “Kaysa, what on Hyrule –“ you adjusted your mask and gripped your staff. “What – I need a warning! Honestly…” You shook out your cloak, mumbling heatedly about boundaries as you patted out dust clouds of lingering magic.

               But you stopped. Were the clouds still lingering? Why did…why did your skin look a different color? You held it up to your eye holes, gasping as you saw not your skin, but scales, of a beautiful color covering your hand and arm. You raised up your other hand, and saw that it was the same as the other. What happened next was the quickest pat down of your life. You lifted your cloak, looked under your skirts: scaled and smooth fish legs stared back. The claws at the end of your toes curled inward as you began to panic. You reached under the back of your shirt, feeling smooth scales there, as well as a couple of fins that draped long down your back. “Kaysa,” you squealed, “What did you do?!”

               Kaysa had been watching your discovery with a sparkly-eyed smile. “Oh, I do apologize for the scare dear, but this was the only way I could think of helping!” Her hands flew out to her sides. “Ta-da!”

               “You made me a Zora.” You felt scandalized. Imposed upon. “Why?!”

               She sighed, tilting her head. “I thought it would be obvious. The sorcerer will not see you coming if you are one of the Zora. Especially if they are a Zora themselves – much more trustworthy than a strange fae coming into the kingdom unannounced.”

               Well that…that does make sense. But still… “The Zora are a close race, Kaysa.” You looked up at her. “They know of everyone in their domain. They will surely notice a new face in their home, regardless of the race.”

               “Ah, but that is where you are wrong, for once.” She winked. “Ever since Calamity Ganon’s banishment, many new faces have been appearing across the land: the descendants or old inhabitants of Hyrule who left when Ganon first struck. Many Zora are returning from the sea, where the more cowardly ones fled. They have heard that the land is no longer in danger of being consumed, and are deciding to return.”

               So I can pose as one of them. Again, it made sense. A lot more sense than any plan you would have come up with. Your hands laid on your sides as you looked at the Fairy. “Okay…so I just…sneak into the kingdom as one of the Zora, find the sorcerer, kill them, and return back here.” You breathed. Your heart fluttered at the thought of being so close to Sidon again. “I must make sure that Sidon does not know who I am – he could ruin it with his excitement.” He would not understand.

               “Come here dear. Take off that mask of yours – it will do you no good there.” She waved kindly to get you moving. Slowly, you did. You came to her fountain, staring at her large hand outstretched. Your hands moved to your mask, hesitating when they touched it. The mask…it had been your defense for so long. To take it off…

               Kaysa leaned down to be eye-to-eye. “Your powers have been stoppered for yours and others’ safety, but you are ready to leave it behind. You have never been ugly, ________. No matter what others have seen, you have always been as beautiful as your mother. I will keep the mask in my care until you have need of it again.” When you still made no move to remove it, she changed tactics. “If you keep the mask, it will make you more suspicious. You are doing this for Sidon, remember.”

               When the mask touched her hand, it glowed a lavender-white before fizzling away into nothing. Kaysa nodded in approval, then smiled kindly. “Oh my dear. You have always been so beautiful, and even now, your beauty will rival that of the late Mipha. Look!”

               You hesitated. The words monster, beast, demon echoed in your head. But you had learned from Sidon that you had to keep moving forward. So you did. You crouched by Kaysa’s side, and forced yourself to look into the reflection of your face. It wavered, quivered, then cleared. And you gasped. “Oh…” you were beautiful. You really were. The fins by your head, on your head, the color of your scales and how they went beautifully with your eyes… “Oh…” you said again, with tears in your eyes.

               A much larger face joined yours in your reflection. “Now you see the beauty of fairy blood. The mask was also meant to protect poor, unsuspecting men from foolishly falling in love with such unattainable beauty. They tend to do stupid things in the face of fairies. It is what caused the passing of your mother, after all.” Kaysa looked saddened in the water. The loss of a fairy was always great in the world, whether she was Great or small. But she had brought the gift of you into it as a replacement, and Kaysa smiled. “Now you can use both that beauty and your magic to your advantage.”

               “…Thank you, Kaysa.” You sobbed, and flung your arms as wide as they could go around her middle, splashing in the water. Her hand laid on your back, and she felt your panic, your despair, at what trial you faced ahead.

               “I will not leave you alone, child. My sister Cortera is near the Domain. She will more than happily help you in whatever you find need of.

----

               She waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, I do so love that Prince of yours, how could I sit idly by?” She smiled. “It has been far too long since we’ve had a good fairy tale happen, hasn’t it?”

               You smiled and shook your head. “Let’s just hope this one doesn’t end in tragedy.”

               “Love your optimism, dear.”

[mememanufactorum]

Halo 2 quote starters

* FEEL FREE TO SHARE AS YOU PLEASE, NO CREDIT NEEDED. CHANGE PRONOUNS OR ANYTHING ELSE AS DESIRED.

-The Heretic-

“This has gone on long enough. Make an example of this bungler.”

“The weight of your heresy will stay your feet, and you shall be left behind.”

“You know how expensive this gear is?”

-The Armory-

“Hey, take it easy!”

“Careful, you’ll pull a tendon doing that!”

“Fine, but don’t come cryin’ to me when you rip your leg out of its socket.”

“This is important. You should at least look at me when I’m explaining it.”

“Look, just ‘cause the brass kisses your ass don’t mean I will.”

“Look at me when I talk to you.”

“Are you listenin’ to me?”

“Would it help if I said please?”

“When are you gonna tell me how you made it back home in one piece?”

“Well, he’s in a particularly fine mood.”

“Nobody’s sayin’ much, but I think something big’s about to happen.”

-Cairo Station-

“You told me there wouldn’t be any cameras.”

“You told me you were gonna wear something nice.”

“Folks need heroes, to give ‘em hope. So, smile, would ya? While we still got something to smile about.”

“You’ve drawn quite a crowd.”

“If they came to hear me beg, they will be disappointed.”

“We’re lucky to have you back.”

“I’m sorry, but we’re gonna have to make this quick.”

“You look nice.”

“I need a weapon.”

“Check your targets and watch the crossfire.”

“They’re in standard formation: Little bastards up front, big ones in back.”

“As soon as that door opens, let ‘em have it!”

“I don’t believe it! They’re retreating! We won!”

“This is bad! Real bad!”

“Just a friendly reminder: Bomb.”

“If this thing goes off, I am NEVER talking to you again.”

“Tell your friends I got enough ammo for all of ya!”

“Come on, is that a weapon or a flashlight?”

“How much time was left?”

“You don’t want to know.”

“I know what you’re thinking, and it’s crazy.”

“So, stay here.”

“Unfortunately for us both, I like crazy.”

“Just one question… What if you miss?”

“For a brick, he flew pretty good!”

-Outskirts-

“Any idea what it means?”

“Hey. Wake up.”

“Talk to me. Should I start CPR? What’s going on?”

“Blink if you can hear me.”

“If they didn’t know we’re here before, they do now!”

“Oh man, I love the beach.”

“I hope you packed a suit.”

“I don’t think they expected us to be here.”

-Metropolis-

“It blew right through us!”

“You had your chance to be afraid before you joined my beloved Corps. But to guide you back to the true path, I have brought this motivational device.”

“When I joined the Corps, we didn’t have any fancy-schmancy tanks! We had sticks! Two sticks and a rock! And we had to share the rock!”

“Usually the good Lord works in mysterious ways. But not today!”

“If God is Love, then you can call me Cupid!”

“They’re tough, but they ain’t invincible.”

“He never gets me anything.”

“Oh, I know what the ladies like.”

“That’s quite a welcome party.”

“Who’s in charge now?”

“See this look?! It’s terror!”

“Did I give you permission to bitch?!”

“I don’t think it’s stopping, get your heads down!”

“That thing is really starting to PISS ME OFF!”

“It can’t go any further this way. We have it trapped.”

“That’s right, you mothers! Run!”

-The Arbiter-

“How much further must we heft this baggage? Any cell will do.”

“Why not toss him in with this lot? They could use the meat.”

“Ultimately, the terms of your execution are up to me.”

“I am already dead.”

“Do you know where we are?”

“Even on my knees, I do not belong in their presence.”

“They would use the faith of our forefathers to bring ruin to us all!”

“What use am I?”

“That armor suits you, but it cannot hide that mark.”

“Their lives matter to me. Yours does not.”

“Warriors, prepare for combat!”

“Be silent and swift, and we shall quell this heresy without incident.”

“We have the element of surprise… For now.”

“That was the last of them – but there are more ahead.”

-The Oracle-

“That stench… I’ve smelled it before.”

“Close your jaw or I shall bind it shut!”

“Come out so we may kill you.”

“We should have brought weapons to burn these bodies.”

“We’ll never break through this!”

“May our Lords guide you.”

“We shall not forget your sacrifice.”

“Keep your blade handy.”

“Take my blade.”

“Turn, heretic.”

“Who has taught you these lies?”

“More questions? Splendid! I would be happy to assist you.”

“Unfortunate. His edification was most enjoyable.”

“Why do you meddlers insist on using such inaccurate verbiage?”

-Delta Halo-

“I don’t care if I have the clearance or not.”

“Where’s our target?”

“Until I can move and fight, I’m going to keep a low profile.”

“Hang onto your helmet!”

“Mind the bump.”

“Could we possibly make any more noise?! ...I guess so.”

“If I were a megalomaniac – and I’m not – that’s where I’d be.”

“I heard that, jackass!”

“Transcendence, huh? More like mass suicide.”

“You always bring me to such nice places.”

“They don’t seem to consider us a very serious threat. Boy, are they in for a big surprise.”

-Regret-

“Wait, go back!”

“I’d need to make a thorough survey to be sure.”

“I wish I had more time to decipher these inscriptions.”

“Well, they were nice enough to bring us a ride.”

“Sorry, were you trying to kill something?”

“And people say I’ve got a big head.”

“Oh man, he’s SO dead.”

“Oh, great! We’re gonna ride another one of these death traps!”

“Man, look at the size of that thing!”

“Guards! Remove this vermin from my sight!”

“You dare to interrupt my sermon?!”

“Surely you can do better than that?”

“Perhaps you underestimated me, no?”

“This is not your grave… But you are welcome in it.”

-Sacred Icon-

“This is unprecedented… Unacceptable!”

“Are you questioning my decision?”

“Politics… How tiresome.”

“We have always been your protectors.”

“These are trying times for all of us.”

“Why? Looking for a little payback?”

“Let’s see if you fare better.”

“Stay in the shadows, wait until it loses interest, then strike the beast when its back is turned.”

“We must hold this camp until reinforcements arrive.”

-Quarantine Zone-

“I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“Forward, warriors, and fear not pain nor death!”

“No matter, they will die all the same.”

“Steel your nerves, we’re not turning back.”

“I grow restless without a target.”

“Ignore the braggart. Ready yourselves.”

“That fool! He’ll alert them to our presence!”

“Look on the bright side, if we’re lucky, they’ll shoot him down.”

“You know, your father never asked me for help either.”

“We got trouble.”

“How you doin’?”

“A bloody fate awaits you and the rest of your incompetent race.”

-Gravemind-

“What… Is that?”

“I am a monument to all your sins.”

“Relax. I’d rather not piss this thing off.”

“Kill me or release me. But do not waste my time with talk!”

“There is much talk, and I have listened through rock and metal and time. Now I shall talk, and you shall listen.”

“We have much to do!”

“You know nothing about containment! You have demonstrated a complete disregard for even the most basic of protocols!”

“If you will not hear the truth, then I shall show it to you.”

“They’re beefing up their patrols. Stay sharp.”

“The path is broad, and we shall walk it side by side.”

“Be glad! A reward for all your toil and all your sacrifices in the year at hand.”

“There are those who said this day would never come. What have they to say now?”

“Look on the bright side: For now, they seem much more interested in killing each other.”

-Uprising-

“Let’s just throw them over the edge.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“So, you’ve come to save your friends!”

“They have shed our brothers’ blood… And for that, they must die.”

“So much for a stealthy advance.”

“Bah! Over so soon?”

“Long have I waited for this!”

“...And yet I live.”

“What vulgar taste. Even as trophies, these weapons are useless.”

-High Charity-

“Your pal. Where’s he going?”

“Not a very original plan, but we know it’ll work.”

“No enemy has ever withstood our might.”

“Arrogant creature. Your death will be instantaneous, while we shall suffer the progress of infinitude!”

“We exist together now… Two corpses in one grave.”

“This crisis will not be the end of us.”

“If you will falter, know this… One final effort is all that remains.”

“I can’t go with you.”

“Don’t make a girl a promise… If you know you can’t keep it.”

-The Great Journey-

“I know a way to break those doors.”

“A day’s rations says I can do this in one cut.”

“You don’t like me, and I sure as hell don’t like you.”

“I just happen to have a key.”

“Hey, bastards! Knock knock!”

“Ha, ha, that’s real funny. I’m still shootin’.”

“What, do I have to spell it out for you? MOVE!”

“Are you trying to get killed? Gimmie some room!”

“Not another word!”

“If you want to keep your brain inside your head, I’ll tell your boys to chill.”

“Go ahead, do your thing.”

“You want revenge? Well, here I am. Come and take it.”

“Just like the rest of your race, cowardly and weak.”

“A lucky hit. You shall not land another.”

“Silence fills the empty grave now that I have gone.”

“My mind is not at rest, for questions linger on. I will ask, and you will answer.”

[lovelyfeh]

i have never loved a prompt as much as i have this one because it’s s o c u t e -

i personally hate how i wrote this one, so please do tell me if you’d like a rewrite anon! despite its length i just wasn’t very happy with how it came out,, it’s probably one of my worst works yikes

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈୨♡୧┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

➼Love had never been something Dimitri could deal with easily. The poor house leader only had two sides when it came to these sort of things; a prince who simply stuffed his emotions down and put on the same facade of friendship towards whoever he may be interested in, or a hopeless romantic that couldn’t even look at his crush without becoming a complete mess.

➼You, unfortunately, fell into the second category. The mere mention of your name had his cheeks redden a bit, enough for about the entire school to notice. He’d lay awake at night plagued with thoughts of your kind eyes and perfect smile, and had had plenty of mishaps on the training grounds when he was lucky (and unfortunate) enough to be your sparring partner.

➼Telling others how you really you felt about them was hard enough for many, but Dimitri? He already bottled up so many emotions as is! Getting him to even utter a word about his love for you to anyone already proved nearly impossible, but saying something to your face?! He could never dream of doing something like that!

➼Of course, even he had his days where a tiny bit of confidence sneaked into his heart. Maybe he had caught your eye in class, or finally managed to hold a conversation without excusing himself halfway through. Either way, he’d march over to his room, seat himself at his desk, and grab a blank sheet of paper. He would write you a letter that contains exactly how he felt!

➼... But then Dimitri would freeze. His face would flush as he read over the words he had chosen, and back away from the nearly finished note in slight horror. Had he really planned on giving you such an inappropriate letter?!

➼While his brain told him to burn the wretched thing, his heart almost always told him otherwise. Dimitri always found himself placing the unfinished confession in a box underneath his bed, where every other letter of his resided. He could barely stand the sight of them! It only reminded him of how cowardly he became when his emotions were involved! (Plus, they all sounded wrong. Maybe it was just impossible to put his feelings for you onto just one piece of paper?)

➼You yourself had always been good friends with Dimitri, ever since the day you’d met at the officers academy, but he had always been quite distant. Initiating casual talk with him always ended with you staring a bit dejectedly as he rushed off saying someone was calling him or he had chores to attend to...

➼It wouldn’t bother you as much as it did if you weren’t just a tad bit in love with him. The Blue Lions class and his friends (save for one) always sang such high praise of him, and on the rare occasion you managed to interact with him for long periods of time you knew no one was lying. Dimitri was hardworking, sweet, and charming in his own lovable way, so it shouldn’t have surprised you when you found yourself smitten with him.

➼Considering how standoffish he always was towards you you highly doubted he reciprocated your feelings. While sometimes it made you feel just a tad bit terirble knowing you’d never get your Prince Charmmg, you had accepted it long ago. Better to push Dimitri out of your mind before you became a sulking mess!

➼Weeks passed with you desperately trying to get Dimitri out of your thoughts. Suddenly it was your day to clean the living quarters. You hoped it would distract you from your prince related troubles, but they only seemed to worsen when you stopped in front of his room door.

➼“Hello? Dimitri? I’m here to pick up any trash you may have.” No response. “Dimitri? Are you there?” Again, no response.

➼You looked down the hall both ways before slowly peeking inside, surprised to find the space empty. You let yourself in, ignoring the sudden heat in your cheeks at the feeling of being in Dimitri’s room, and rushed to grab whatever may be in the garbage bin.

➼He barely had anything to take, so you started to exit only to stop at the feeling of stepping on something. You curiously plucked the folded paper from under your heel. It had been crushed and ripped, but was still somewhat whole. When you squinted you could even see fancy looking quill ink that had bled through!

➼Despite knowing that this was technically invasion of privacy, you unfolded the paper enough just to see a few of the words that you assumed Dimitri had written. Sentnces had been messily crossed out, but the few that remained were barely legible due the ruined state of the paper. Thankfully, there were just something that you could make out, near the bottom...

➼‘I love you, S/O.’

➼Out of impulse, you gasped and threw the paper as if it had caught aflame. You stared at the note with a look of both disbelief, your shaking hands already reaching to snatch what you presumed to be some some sort of confession letter off of the ground. You had to see it again, you had to confirm it. Maybe you had just misread it? Maybe the words had blended together?

➼But the longer you stared at those four simple words the faster you realized what it meant. If your suspicions were correct and Dimitri had written this, he had just indirectly confessed to you!

➼Your eyes suddenly strayed from the note in your hand when you caught a glimpse of another paper sticking out from underneath his bed. You slowly reached out to see if it was yet another letter, but your fingertips grazed the corner of a wooden box instead. You gently pulled it from its hiding spot and stared at it for a moment. The feeling of guilt sat heavy on your mind as you barely lifted the lid and glanced inside, but almost every emotion besides shock disappeared at the sight before you.

➼You placed the top to the side and gaped at the amount of letters that were packed into such a small container. You grabbed the first one you saw, which was in much better shape than the previous one, and skimmed through the writing with tiny bit of hope in your heart that it would be addressed to you once more.

➼Sure enough, the first thing you saw was ‘My Dear S/O’. The note went into great detail on how Dimitri felt about you, once again ending with the same four words that still made your heart beat a hundred miles per hour. As if in a trance you went through each confession and didn’t stop for anything. Despite still being in the Dimitri’s room and the possibility of being seen still very plausible, you read through the entire box in one sitting!

➼You had halfheartedetly scattered the letters around you and stared at your personal favorite with loving eyes. Instead of being focused on your qualities he seemed to have been rambling about how he dealt with his crush on you. He retold you stories of nights where he was simply plagued with thoughts of you, and wrote heartfelt apologies for avoiding you every chance he got...

➼With a hum and a smile you held the paper against your heart. You took a long look at the mess you had made and sighed to yourself. You should really do something to make up for all the trouble you had caused!

➼And so you folded and placed each letter into your pockets, unable to bear the thought of separating with any of his adorable confessions. You searched his drawers until you managed to find a worn quill, and giggled to yourself as you started to write your own note!

➼The sound of students being released from dinner made you hurriedly sign your name and shove it into the wooden box. You slammed the lid back on and lifted it onto his bed before rushing out of his room to hide around the corner. Despite nerves drilling a hole into you you couldn’t help but want to see his reaction, if he even had one!

➼And you did get a reaction out of him. The sight of the loathsome box being on his bed, when he had not placed it there before, made his heart sink. Someone had found his confessions.

➼In a flash he had thrown the top to the side, going completely still at the sight before him. They were gone. Every single horrid letter he had written was gone. The box was completely empty... except for one paper. Confused, terrified, and just a tad bit flushed, he read what had been left behind for him.

➼‘Dimitri! I found all of the letters and loved all of them! You don’t mind if I keep them, do you? Ah well, never mind that. You have no idea how elated I was to see that you loved me! I was so worried to you disliked my presence for a while! It put my feelings at ease! Oh, but I suppose I haven’t responded to your confession yet, hm? Well, perhaps we can discuss this over chamomile? I’d love to finally get to know you better, and just being near you makes my heart flutter, so I think it’s a fine idea. What do you say, my prince?’

➼You had never seen someone blush as much as you did Dimitri that day. He looked on the verge of fainting, but the way his shocked expression slowly shifted into a smile put your worries to rest almost instantly. Who knew you’d be able to fall in love with the same person twice?

[a-roses-ink]

This is for a request that I got on my RP blog, @for-every-rose-a-thorn, that I thought was really interesting, so here’s a short one-shot of the fight that I think would happen. (@worst-phantom feel free to correct me on anything you think is out of character for your Phantom) (Also a lot of these are quotes directly from the RP)

Word Count: 1522

Time taken to write: 2.5 hrs

~~~

When Phantom appeared in her office, Thorn wasn’t sure what to expect. Normally, their interactions led to either a fight, or her getting rid of a few more souls. So when his first words were far from annoyed or angry, the uncertainty only grew.

“Hello.” She said, raising an eyebrow.

“Hello there yourself.”

The lack of obvious bite behind the words gave Thorn pause as she stood up, trying to distract herself by continuing to work. “So. What the hell happened to you?”

“Oh, caring about me now? That’s sweet.”

Oh, hell no. “Sure, if it helps you sleep at night, darling.”

“If you don’t, then why else would you ask?”

“Small talk. Or do you prefer to just start torturing people?”

Phantom smirked. “Depends on what they deserve. Sometimes it’s easier to get to the point.”

She hummed, subconsciously running her fingers over scars that appeared and disappeared with the touch of her fingers. “Oh, I remember. Now, was there something that I could help you with, darling?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Well, that was kind of the idea behind asking.”

As the suggestion dripped from her words, Phantom shook his head. “You think that will work? Why can’t I just be here, watching you tick?”

Oh, hell no. “So, that’s what happened to you?” She asked, moving to lean back against the front of her desk as her eyes flicked over the other demon.

“They made me like you, poppet.” Tacky. “Exciting, isn’t it?” He asked, leaning across Thorn’s desk next to her.

“I suppose so. But what do you plan to do with it? Try and threaten me again?”

“I don’t threaten, I insinuate.” Phantom mocked. “I’m just playing with it, at the moment.”

She laughed, high-pitched and fake. “Oh please. If you like me now, then you would know that there’s so much more that you could do with it. But you choose not to?” The fake laugh again. “It’s a little pathetic, really.”

Phantom’s fake smile dropped, his hand snapping out as he grabbed Thorn’s chin. “I think you forgot what I can already do. Perhaps a refresher for you is in order.”

Thorn’s hand moved just as fast, slamming into Phantom’s chest and throwing him away from her as she stood up and straightened her suit and back. “And I never got the chance to show you what I can really do. Perhaps a starter course?”

Phantom laughed, pushing up his sleeves to reveal glowing runes all up his arms. “Oh, this will be fun.” He slams his cane down, scorching a small circle into the office floor and sending ripples of energy out from it.

“Oh, darling. You really think that you can kill me this time?”

Phantom laughed again, pulling his vest off. “If I recall correctly, I let you go before.”

“Everyone makes mistakes from time to time, there’s no need to beat yourself up over it.”

Phantom smirked, throwing a fireball up into the air and catching it again. “Come on, Rose Bitch. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

He threw the fireball, only for Thorn to put a hand up and catch it. She turned to look at it, playing the flame through her fingers. “Playground insults, Phantom? Honestly, I thought better of you.”

“Unfortunately, the feeling isn’t mutual. Now, are you going to fight, or just talk?”

“You know, for being like me now, you’re surprisingly impatient.” Thorn clenched a fist, and the fire went out with a hiss. “But I don’t see why not.”

“Excellent.” Thorn rolled her eyes, and the office cleared of everything. No furniture, no curtains, no deals, no windows. She raised a hand, and a silver and gold soul appeared around her fingertips, slowly making its way down her arm before disappearing.

“Why is it that so many want to fight me? In the end I come out on top.”

“That’s not what I heard about your last fight. Lost your voice for a while, didn’t you?”

“Oh, but I got exactly what I wanted from that. And I imagine that I’ll get the same thing from this.” Her eyes flashed the silver and gold before she disappeared.

Phantom spun on his heel, looking for her. “Is that really how you fight? Hiding from your opponent?”

“Who said I was hiding, puppet?” Thorn purred in Phantom’s ear, before slamming her hand into his back, throwing him across the room again.

He whipped around again, snarling. “Cheap tricks, bitch.” He spread his arms, and wings of fire and magic spread out behind him. “This is what real power looks like.”

She raised an eyebrow, her own wings spreading. Cracked, broken, torn and dark, one would think that she would be in immense pain. “Sure, darling.” Her wings were gone with the blink of an eye, as she slashed her hand threw the air and disappeared again.

Three slashes appeared across Phantom’s chest, and he glared at the spot where Thorn had been. “Oh, how fun.” Four more appeared across his back. “Now you won’t show yourself? How cowardly do you have to be for that?”

“You’re trying to bait me. It won’t work.”

“Thought I might give it a try. I am still a lot like you, after all.”

Thorn hummed, appearing, leaning back against the wall. “I suppose that’s true.”

Phantom smirked again, throwing another ball of fire at her. She laughed as it hit her, and she waved the smoke away. “Fire doesn’t do anything.”

“I am left wondering how that’s possible.”

Thorn waved her hand, and a small gem, inlaid in her wrist, glinted green and blue as she disappeared again, milliseconds before Phantom swung his cane at him.

“Anything is possible with the right connections.”

“Like angels?”

“Oh, that was one deal.”

“You said that you have two celestial souls.”

Thorn’s laugh echoed through the room. “Souls can be torn free, Phantom. I would show you how, but you moved your’s.”

“Oh, so now you are threatening me, aren’t you. You’re not one to talk, you moved your’s too.”

“Anyone with a brain would. Isn’t that why little Mare doesn’t have his? Then again, that must have been your choice. Not enough there for him to decide anything, really.” Phantom slammed his cane to the ground again, and the energy rippling out connected with Thorn, sending her flying against a wall.

“I believe we made a deal, some time ago. That you leave the ones I care about alone in return for something of yours.”

“We did.” Thorn said, standing up. “And I haven’t broken my side of it. So I suggest you not break yours, if that’s what you’re planning.”

Phantom glared at her, swinging his cane again. She ducked around it, slicing at his stomach.

He yelled, kicking her away from him. Thorn’s head hit the wall, and she seemed to struggle to stand back up, but she managed it.

“So, what’s with the gem? That’s what protects you from fire?”

“You could say that. It’s less protection, though.”

“Less protection and more what?”

“A reflection.” She throws her left hand forward, and fire throws out of her hand, back at Phantom.

His eyes widened, before he disappeared. “And how did you come by that?”

“Like I said, connections.” Phantom looked for the source of her voice, only to see that Thorn had disappeared again. He screamed when she sliced across his face.

“Ooh, I think that might scar.” He turned to look at her again, to see her scars showing. She had matching ones along her face, back, and front, as well as the scars from Puppeteer, and even older ones. “Not like it’ll ruin your good looks.”

She clapped her hands together once, and the sounds of a clock echoed in Phantom’s ears. When it was gone, the slices on his face and back and front had stopped bleeding.

“Oh, I was right. Lovely scars.” When Phantom looked at her again, it was with shock and suspicion.

“What are you doing?”

She laughed. “Why does everyone always have to be doing something? Can’t I just do that as a show of good faith?”

Phantom swung out with the cane again, and it connected that time. After she hit the ground, Phantom leaned over her, and put a hand around her throat.

“You know, I noticed something. I’m like you, but I can’t help but notice a preference for tearing souls out. Interesting choice for someone that doesn’t deal in souls.”

She spit at him, before twisting out of his grasp and twisting his arm, breaking his wrist. Thorn disappeared and reappeared on the other side of the room. “Get out.” She snarled.

“Why? I think I’m starting to enjoy myself.”

Thorn shook her head. “The novelty has worn off. Get out, before I make you.”

Phantom laughed at that. “You can’t make me do anything, Rose Bitch.”

“If you really think so, then keep believing that. It doesn’t change what I can do, asshole.” Thorn clapped her hands together once more, and blue waves spread out from her, and she and what was left of the office disappeared.

[amigolupus]

I got the inspiration for this image from listening to Vague Hope - Cold Rain from Nier Automata. There’s just something in it that make me think of how miserable Mullet Stan’s ten years of hell must be, and how this probably isn’t the first time this has happened to him.

Also, here’s a fic under the cut!

Title: Whiteout

Character: Stanley Pines

Words: 2088

Summary: After getting roughed up and left for dead because of a failed con, Stan ponders the state of his life. So pretty much just a regular Tuesday for Stan Pines.

Cold.

That was the first thing that he noticed as consciousness slowly returned to him. It seemed like his body was wrapped in a cocoon of cold. The second thing he noticed was the feeling of something wet and sticky all over his body.

And then, the third thing that hit him was the pain.

To say that the pain blossomed was an understatement. It was more like liquid fire had flowed out through his veins. He wanted to cry out, but long-honed instincts told him making too much noise would be a terrible idea, so he just settled for a pathetic hiss. Not that he could shout if he wanted to, really. His throat felt too dry and he could taste iron in his mouth.

Where was he anyway? And why was it so cold? ...More importantly, who was he? Stetson Pinefield? James Oakley? Sean Spruceteen? Nah, none of those felt right.

Memories started to trickle back, and along with it came shame. It was like having slime spread out and tarnish a clean surface.

He remembered who he was, and it was somehow much worse.

He was Stanley Pines. He was a professional grifter who lived out of his car. He had tried to pull off a con, but had gotten caught. As he was trying to get away, he had slipped on the icy ground and then the goons were on him in an instant. He was then almost beaten to death and left alone to die, which was more merciful than if they tried to “interrogate” him.

So not a new experience for Stan, really.

Stan tried to open his eyes, at least to figure out where those goons dumped him, but one of his eyes felt like it was caked with blood. Hell, he was pretty sure he could feel himself bleeding in lots of places. Those bastards really didn’t hold back, did they?

He opened the eye that was still somewhat fine and instantly regretted it. His vision swam so much and the only thing he could register was blinding white. Stan winced and waited a few minutes before trying to open his eye again.

There was snow everywhere. It didn’t seem like he was anywhere near civilization. Did those bastards seriously just dump him outside of town or something?

Though it could be worse, Stan mused, as he flashed back to a car trunk and suffocating darkness.

So what now? He didn’t think he could move in his condition. Just trying to breathe already felt like a tall order. He hoped that was just cracked ribs and not something more serious. Maybe he could rest and get some strength back, at least before he froze like a popsicle.

But while his body just wanted to take it easy, Stan’s mind was racing and going over his latest failure. He’d thought for sure that he could pull off a heist. He hadn’t expected the building’s doors to use those newfangled keycards that meant there was no lock to pick. Or for the “inside man” he’d seduced to let him in the building to be more loyal to his employers and turn Stan in. Stan wasn’t sure what irritated him more, that technology was screwing over the noble art of lockpicking, or that he was past his prime and his looks weren’t enough to charm anyone anymore, or that his plan this time was so damn sloppy.

Moses, was he really this badly off? Was Stan Pines already outdated by the times, doomed to fall off the crazy game called life?

Well, what did you expect? Once a loser, always were a loser.

So what if he was? This was just a temporary setback. He’ll make it big next time, he was sure of it.

You mean like the last hundred times you said that exact same thing?

Stan tried to cut off that train of thought, he really did. That was a well-worn and familiar road, and it never led to anywhere good, but still...

He looked around, hoping to find something, anything, to distract himself. His eye caught a hint of yellow. It was a tiny flower peeking out from under the snow. He didn’t know what it was called, though he bet Ma knew. Heh, stupid little thing was still growing in this frigid weather.

Stan tried to come up with something sappy. Like...there was beauty in something struggling to survive under harsh conditions. Or that there was something hopeful about it yadda yadda yadda.

What his stupid brain told him was that the flower looked incredibly lonely in a sea of white. That it was only a matter of time before it got buried under the snow.

Well, shit.

He didn’t need these thoughts creeping in, not now of all times. He tried to fight it off, but the cold was making him so tired.

Why do you even bother struggling anymore? This is the perfect resting place for you.

Because that’s quitter talk, and Stan Pines was no quitter. Because if nothing else, Pa taught him to be a fighter, to be able to take some licks and then get back up again.

Oh really? A real man would never let himself get beat up like you did. A real man would never be such a huge disappointment. You know what you really are? An animal. Hell, at this rate you’re as good as roadkill.

That’s... Stan’s heart clenched at the thought. What else could he say to that, really?

The only thing that ever comes out of your mouth are just lies anyway, you miserable little thief. You’d be doing us all a favor if you just disappeared already.

It’s true that he’d thought of that, but to just fade away when he hadn’t made his mark yet?

What mark? You mean your terrible criminal record? Besides, it’s not like anyone will miss you if you’re dead.

That’s...that’s not true, isn’t it? Sure, he seemed to have a knack for making people hate him, but at least Ma would be sad if he was gone, right?

And you think having to hear that you’re “doing fine” over and over is doing her any good, Mr. Personality? Your mother can smell bullshit a mile away so you know she knows what’s really up. Her hair’s turned white by now thanks to worrying over your sorry hide.

How about Shermie then? It’d be a shame if he never knew his other older brother.

What’s a real shame is that you think we’d even let Shermie know about you. Do you seriously think we’d burden him with the knowledge that he’s got a thug of a brother lying and stealing his way around the country? Do you even think Shermie would ever want to know about the shame of the family?

Ford... Well, that was useless. Stan already knew what Ford thought of him.

Did you really think I’d miss the person who ruined my life, Stanley?

Stan could taste familiar bitterness and loathing in his mouth. Ford wasn’t the only one whose life was ruined that night. Where was Ford when he needed his support?

Now why would I ever choose to stand with someone who sabotaged me?

That one stung, because Ford honestly thought Stan would actually do something like that. Why didn’t he believe it was an accident?

Even if it were, that doesn’t matter because you still ruined my chances, Stanley. You always were determined to be a millstone around my neck, weren’t you?

Stan shivered, and he wasn’t sure if it was from the snow. He knew he’d been holding Ford back before, but he’d been trying to change that. He’d been doing his best the last several years to raise some cash and prove he could be half as good as Ford, so didn’t that count?

And look where that got you; bleeding out on the snow like some manner of wild beast. Tell me, was it even worth it, Stanley?

Well...

You know you deserved this, don’t you Stanley? Every terrible thing in your life you brought upon yourself.

He did, didn’t he? In the end, what did he even had to show for himself?

Then you know the right thing to do.

Yes, he did. Stan let out the breath didn’t even know he’d been holding.

A smile tugged at Stan’s lips as he felt the cold sink in. This was it. He was finally going to do something right, just this once. Why was he even hesitating to let go in the first place?

...

Coward.

...

Are ya seriously just gonna lie down there like the loser everyone says you are?! Get the hell up, you cowardly piece of shit!

...Stan frowned. Couldn’t the voice just leave him alone and let a guy die in dignity?

Dignity, my hairy crack! We ain’t going away anywhere, numbnuts. We’ve been through this stupid song and dance over and over again and believe you me, we can’t afford to croak it here.

Why the hell not?

For one thing, we’re in Bugfuck, Booniesville, and I dunno about you, but we could at least pick someplace better to die than this.

...Fair. And what’s your other point?

For another thing, we still haven’t apologized to Ford.

Stan scoffed at the thought. He’d thought about apologizing to Ford thousands of times, had replayed conversations in his head over and over again. But for it to actually happen?

One thing Stan was certain of was that he didn’t want to be the one to end up begging Ford to let him back in his life again. It felt too much like admitting that everything was his fault, even if he sometimes felt it was. So his plan had been to stay away until Ford asked him to come back.

And, well, he doubted Ford would ever want to talk to him again.

But how can we be so sure of that?

Because he hates me more than anything else in the world.

Yeah, so what if he does? That doesn’t mean Poindexter could carry a grudge for all his life.

Of course he can. I ruined his life.

We totally did. But there’s always the small chance he’d change his mind. ‘Side, are we gonna be fine not knowing if he could ever forgive our pathetic hide?

...No, I wouldn’t. I’d want to know for sure.

Exactly. It’s like one of Sixer’s nerdy science theories he’d always ramble on about, the Shatner’s Pussy or whatever. You know how it is. Something’s locked inside a tin can, and the only way to know if it’s a cat is to open it with a can opener. So unless we see the can getting opened, we don’t know for sure what Ford’s got for us.

So what, I’m just supposed to survive and wait years and years until Ford finally decides he wants to talk to me?

We both know the answer to that.

...

Well, shit.

Pulling from scraps of strength he didn’t know he had, Stan grunted as he gingerly moved his arms until his fingers found some purchase in the snow. Stan grunted as he slowly pushed himself upwards while his muscles and nerves felt like it was on fire. It was only then that he registered how much the snow was tinted red from his blood.

Stan hoped he was lucky enough that lying on the snow had frozen his wounds shut but he wasn’t holding his breath. He just hoped he still had some thread and needle in the Stanmobile. He really didn’t want to have to staple his wounds shut again.

Getting up to his feet was a challenge on its own. His vision swam while his legs felt weak and wobbly. Stan had to stand in place for several seconds just to steady himself. When he thought he was ready, Stan took the first step forward.

Stan took another step, and then another, his boots leaving deep gouges in the snow. He had no idea where he was, so he picked a direction that he thought would take him back to town. He figured that if the goons that beat him up thought he had died, that’d mean they wouldn’t expect him to come back for his car now.

And then Stan could finally say goodbye to this stupid joint.

After that? Who knows.

The only thing Stan knew for certain was that he had to keep going, no matter what.

[steviemae]

friends // sp

requested by anonymous: sweet pea imagine to “friends” by ed sheeran

authors note: this is probably really bad and i apologize 

We’re not friends, nor have we ever been. We just try to keep those secrets in a lie.

You and Sweet Pea kept your secret rendezvous merely that - a secret. Pretending to be nothing more than acquaintances in the eyes of your fellow friends. None of them had any idea how many nights Sweet Pea spent in your bed. None of them had a clue about how you spoke to each other at night when you were alone between the sheets. None of them knew how you made each other feel things friends shouldn’t feel for each other. And you didn’t want them to know either. That part of you and Pea was best kept a secret.

Tonight was like any other night. Sweet Pea came to your trailer at a ridiculous time at night and the two of you wasted no time with chit chat or small talk. Getting to the point as to why he even came to you in the first place. You wouldn’t dare go to his, to worried about one of your friends catching you. You, however, lived in a different part of the southside while Pea and the rest of the southside crew lived in sunnyside trailer park.

So i could take the back roads but your eyes will lead me straight home. And if you know me like i know you, you should love me.

After the two of you finished, Pea got up to leave. Every night, on his way home, he’d cut through the back roads for some alone time with his thoughts. Thinking about how he could’ve managed to fall for someone that wanted nothing more from him than she already had. How did he manage to be the one that broke first? He thought about how he was going to tell you that he couldn’t do this anymore. How he couldn’t keep up the facade for his friends. He wanted more from you. More of you. And he couldn’t talk to anyone but you about it. He was going absolutely mad. He thought about how many times he’s taken these roads back to his trailer but none of them would lead him to the home he wanted to go to most. Looking into your eyes made him feel more  at home than the dingy trailer he’s lived in for years. Even before he met you.

Friends don’t treat me like you do … friends won’t love me like you.

Sweet Pea gently pushed you from his body, looking you deep in your eyes. He told you that the two of you needed to talk about everything. What was going on between the two of you? How much longer were you going to hide all of this from your friends? How could you continue to act like there was more between you than platonic feelings and lust? Sweet Pea told you he wanted more and that friends don’t do what the two of you do. They couldn’t. It would ruin everything. Friends don’t kiss the way you two do. Friends don’t sleep in the same beds every night, tangled together in the sheets that clung to their naked and sweaty bodies. Friends don’t touch the way you two touch each other.

You told Pea you would think about it, but really you weren’t. You wanted nothing more than the boy in front of you to shut up and ravish you until the sun rose the next morning. That was the routine. That’s what you were comfortable with. Sweet Pea allows you to pull him to your bedroom, leaving the conversation for another time knowing he wasn’t getting through to you tonight.

We’re not friends. We could be anything … if it all went wrong they’ll never know what we’ve been through.

Sweet Pea came over right after school knowing that if he tried to talk to you again tonight, it would end up like the last night. In your bed, feelings still kept to himself and the relationship between you two completely unresolved.

He told you that no one else made him feel the way you do. No one else could ever. He wanted to show you off to everyone. To rub in all of his friends face that he got you and no one else stood a chance. He wanted you to be completely his. Not just his for the night. You sat in silence listening to him as he rambled, not knowing what to say or how to react.

He saw your face when he said he wanted to be able to tell his friends about you and quickly moved across your living room to sit in front of you on the coffee table telling you that it could be your little secret if you would at least try to be more for him. To be more with him. If anything went wrong or neither of you wanted it anymore, then going back to being friends was an option that would be considered with no hesitation. He only wanted you to do what you were comfortable with.

He left, saying he’d be back later that night. Hopefully to get an answer from you about being more. The answer he wanted from you.

And that’s why friends should sleep in other beds and friends shouldn’t kiss me like you do. And i know that there’s a limit to everything, but my friends won’t love me like you do.

When Sweet Pea came over that night, you didn’t jump his bones like you always do. Instead you hesitantly opened the door and walked away to sit in the living room making him close and lock the door behind and trudge behind you, confused at your change in character. He asked you what was wrong and if it had anything to do with what he said before. Of course. It had everything to do with what he admitted to you. He wanted all or nothing and you couldn’t give him your all. You were content and happy with what the two of you had, but he’s right. Friends don’t share the same bed every night. Friends don’t kiss the way you do and friends sure as hell don’t sleep together. But you couldn’t be more than friends. That scared you. Giving you all to someone scared you. It was a world of uncertainty and unknown and you liked knowing. Knowing that you and Sweet Pea would sleep together and go back  to normal in the morning. Nothing would change that and then here he comes, throwing a curveball at you. One you weren’t ready for. So you ended things. You told Sweet Pea that friends was all you could be. All you two will ever be.

This sparked anger in Sweet Pea. He called out your cowardliness. He told you that nothing was ever going to change except the fact that he could hold you in public. Your relationship would be the same but with labels and your friends would know. Everything would remain the same. You’d hang out still and he would come over every night to sleep next to you because lord knows he’s done it so many nights, he doesn’t think he could ever sleep alone again. He’s become used to your body pressed against his every night and waking up to your hair sprawled across the pillow next to him and his arm numb from you using it as a pillow every night. When you shut down and became quiet, he left. Slamming the door behind him as he stomped out of your house leaving you alone to your thoughts that raced around your head like nascar drivers.

Sweet Pea didn’t leave though. He walked out of your house, but he didn’t leave. He sat down on your front porch steps waiting to see if you’d come after him and tell him you wanted more too. He let the pouring rain fall against his clothed body, trickling from his hair and down his face. He just sat there, waiting.

But then again, if we’re not friends then someone else might love you too. And then again, if we’re not friends there’d be nothing i could do.

A few minutes after you collected yourself and your thoughts to realized, if you didn’t have Sweet Pea the way you did, someone else would take your place. You liked what you had. The none complicated, intimacy you shared was what kept you looking forward to the next day because you’d get to be with him again. But if you pushed him away even more and you ended everything, he’d find someone and there would be nothing in the world you could do to stop it, because he wasn’t yours anymore. He wasn’t your ever.

Tears ran down your face as you realized just what you did. You telling him you couldn’t be more, put him in the arms of someone else. Maybe not literally right now, but surely in the future. Sweet Pea wasn’t going to wait for you forever. He’s waited this long and you just pushed him away. You might have lost your chance. You might have lost him. That last part flew through your brain like fighter jets during war dropping bombs on the most vulnerable parts of your brain making emotion run through you like rivers. Without thinking you ran towards your front door, flinging it open thinking you’d find Sweet Pea and his bike gone. Shock took over your features when  you saw him sitting there with his head in his hands as the rain fell on him. He turned around and stood up when he heard the door open and you wasted no time running to him and giving him the most passionate kiss you could muster, putting Nicholas Sparks to shame.

[acourtofhopeanddreams]

Dark Jon Event - Day 1

Stalking Jon the Ripper

Sansa is determined to catch the infamous Jack the Ripper before he can strike again. She's determined to show everyone that a woman can solve a complicated crime like this. But everything changes when she discovers that the infamous Jack the Ripper, serial killer, maniac, psychopath, is the man she loves.

*I shameless stole some inspiration from the wonderful Kerri Maniscalco*

Triggers: I don't go into much detail when it comes to the killing part. So, the murdering mostly happens off screen.

Written for the Dark Jon Event, organized by the lovely @jonsa-creatives. You can also read this story on AO3.

Tonight she was gonna catch him. Tonight she was gonna save London. Tonight she was gonna end this fear, for once and for all.

Jack the Ripper, or whoever he might be, would not kill another woman. Jack the Ripper would not take any other organs that weren’t his to take. Jack the Ripper would be stopped by a girl barely old enough to marry.

She tied up her hair and put on her black jacket. She had cracked the code a few days ago. She knew where he would be tonight. She knew how to find him. And then she would bring him to the police, proving once and for all that girls were just as good at solving crimes as boys were.

Her father would be proud of her. Her big brother would be proud of her. Jon would be proud of her and maybe finally ask for her hand in marriage. Bran and Rickon would be proud of her and Arya would have someone to look up to, someone proving her that she could be whoever she wanted to be.

Sansa walked down the stairs on the tips of her toes to make sure to not wake up the entire house. She carefully opened the door and she made sure to not slam it shut behind her. Her carriage was waiting for her around the corner, paid in cash a couple of hours ago when she had told everyone she was out to buy a new dress.

The driver already knew where they were going. He simple nodded when Sansa arrived and stepped in, forcing the horses to start moving before she had properly seated herself.

Her heart was racing in her chest. Deep dow she knew that she should have asked someone to come with her, that she should have asked for back up. But she knew how that would end.

Her back up would steal all the glory. Her back up would be praised by the newspapers. Her back up would be the hero she intended to become.

She was not gonna let a man steal her glory. She was not gonna let a man take credits for her intelligence. She was not gonna make this about anyone but herself.

The carriage came to a stop twenty minutes later in a dark ally, hidden from plain sight. The neighborhood was not the kind of neighborhood anyone visited at this unholy time. There were more shadows, both moving and standing still, than there was light. Even the full moon couldn’t brighten the area. This was the domain of hookers, of drugs dealers, of alcoholics and gamblers. This was the domain of serial killers. This was the domain of Jack the Ripper.

Sansa took a deep breath, but regretted it almost instantly. The strange odeur triggered her nostrils and she could barely fight the sneeze that would draw way too much attention to a rich girl who was totally out of place.

Totally out of place, maybe, but on a mission.

She stared at the clock, peeking over the buildings like a guard standing watch. She was five minutes too early. She was right in time to let her eyes wander over the figures occupying these streets.

One of them was the murderer she was after. It could be the man with the long coat and the hat, leaning heavily on a stick while smoking a cigarette that was for sure not just a cigarette. It could be the man pretending to be asleep on the ground, looking like he hadn’t washed himself in ages, with hair that almost reached his knees. It could be the owner of the laugh echoing all around them, the owner of the voice luring people into a strange establishment that would ruin whatever was left of their reputation.

Sansa felt a shiver rolling down her spine. Her bravery, her confidence, it was slowly fading away. So far Jack the Ripper had always targeted women he believed no one would miss, but still she didn’t feel completely safe yet.

What if the only reason he had killed hookers so far, was that there had been no one better around? What if instead of catching him, he would catch her first? What if her name would make the headlines in tomorrow’s newspapers, but in a totally different way?

She pressed her back to the wall and took a few deep breaths. She had one more minute. One more minute to recognize the killer and to stop him. One more minute to either save her own life or someone else’s. One more minute to…

A strange movement in the corner of her eyes caught her attention. It was nothing but a shadow, but it was swift and smooth, it moved like it knew what it was doing.

Sansa started running. She started running towards the shadow instead of away from it, but when she was about to make her heroic move she froze.

The dark black curls, the frown on his forehead, his lips forming a straight line. It looked familiar. Way too familiar, but out of place combined with the bloodied knife in his hands and the darkness hiding most of his face.

A part of her brain registered that she was too late. That whoever she had wanted to rescue was already dead, killed by one smooth movement of a sharp knife, cowardly attacked from behind without even the slightest chance of escaping her fate.

But that part of her brain was overruled by any other part of her mind, her soul and her body.

“Jon?” Her voice was nothing but a whisper, breakable, vulnerable. She wasn’t sure if she should scream or cry or shout or yell or fight. She was not sure if her eyes could be trusted, but her heart told her they were not lying.

Jon looked up. He had his fingers curled around the knife. His eyes were filled with determination, but the moment he saw her, the moment he recognized her, the determination started to fade, replaced by panic, by fear and maybe even shame. “What are you doing here?” He hissed between his teeth. “You shouldn’t be in this part of London.”

“You shouldn’t be either…” Sansa spoke softly. Even if she would want to talk louder, she wouldn’t be able to do so. "You shouldn’t be…” She stuttered. She tried to comprehend what she was seeing, but somehow she couldn’t. “You’re…” How could she ever say this out loud?

“It's not what you think, Sansa!” Jon stood up and he dropped the bloodied knife. “I can explain, I swear.”

“You’re…” Sansa stepped back. One step. Two steps. Three steps. Until her back hit the wall and she had nowhere else to go. “The entire town is looking for you!”

“I know…” Jon stepped closer and he scratched the back of his neck. A moment before he had looked so different from the Jon she had known, from the Jon she had fallen in love with. Right now her Jon had returned, but it was too late to erase the images imprinted on her mind. “I know.” Jon bent his head and stared at his feet.

“Why?” Sansa eventually managed to say. She knew she should call for help. She should call for someone. But she couldn’t. Not yet. Not before she knew why he had done it. Why he had killed all those women, why he had taken their organs, why he had become a serial killer, the biggest fear this city had ever known. “Why?” She asked again. Her voice was still trembling and she tensed all her muscles.

“I wanted…” Jon swallowed. Tears rolled down his cheeks. “I wanted to bring back my mom…” He fell down on his knees in the mud, in the dirt, in whatever covered the cobbles in this part of London. “I just need…” He shook his head and he buried his face in his hands. “Just the heart. Then I can…I can…”

“Do what, Jon?” Sansa kneeled down in front of him and she grabbed his chin and forced him to look up, to look at her.

“I can bring her back. I can do it. Just like Frankenstein.” Jon widened his eyes as if he all of a sudden realized what he had done. “I…I only took women no one would miss to bring back a woman everyone loved.”

Sansa let out a deep sigh. She wanted to hate him. She wanted to yell at him. She wanted to tell him that he deserved to be in jail. She wanted to see him as a monster, as the monster he had been towards the media, towards all the women who didn’t dare to leave their houses anymore. “It’s just a book, Jon. It’s not real.” Sansa shook her head. “You can have all the organs in the world and it still wouldn’t bring her back and even…” Sansa paused for a few seconds. “Even if somehow you can bring her body back to life, it won’t be her, it won’t contain her soul.”

“I know…” Jon leaned towards her, his chin resting on her shoulder. “But I had to try…I just had to…I….” He wrapped his arms around her and held onto Sansa as tightly as he could. “I miss her so…”

Sansa closed her eyes and then she embraced him, rocking him back and forth in her arms. “I know, Jon. We all do…” She kissed his cheek, his hair, his forehead. “But what do we do with you now?”

Jon kept silent. His tears dripped on her shoulder. Once in a while he sniffed. “I deserve to die for this.” Jon eventually said, his voice steady, as if he had already given up, as if he had already accepted that this was where this all would end, sooner or later.

“You don’t…” Sansa shook her head and her hands rubbed his back. “You're hurt and broken. You’re damaged and in pain.” She pulled back and she stroke his hair from his face. “But you’re not a monster or a murderer.”

“I am, Sansa.” Jon replied and nodded. Slime and salted tears covered his chin and neck. “I am a monster. I am a murderer.”

“But no one knows…” Sansa couldn’t believe her own words, couldn’t believe what she was saying. When she had left her house half an hour ago she had been determined to find Jack, to kill him, to take all the credits for catching him. Now she just wanted to save him. She wanted to save him from himself. “No one knows but you and me…”

“Can you…” Jon breathed in and forgot to breath out. “How can you ever forgive me?” He swallowed. “How can you still look at me and tell me you love me?”

“Can you still love you?” Sansa straightened her back. She would have to explain tomorrow how her dress had gotten this dirty. “Can you live with what you’ve done?”

“I don’t know…” Jon bent his head again, his forehead touching her nose. “I think I wanted someone to catch me.”

“I did.” Sansa replied.

“I wanted someone to stop me.”

“I did.” Sansa replied again.

From the very beginning the letters had been meant for her and only her. The letters to the newspapers hadn’t been for the police. They hadn’t been for the public eye. They had been a scream for help. And they had worked.

“I wanted someone to save me.”

“I will.” Sansa embraced him again. “I will save you. I will heal you. I will love you. And no one, no one needs to know that it was you.”

“They will never stop looking for Jack…” Jon spoke about him as if it was another person, someone he didn’t know, someone he hadn’t been.

“But they will never find him.” She spoke firm and leaned back, her glance meeting his for a short moment. “They will never find him.” She nodded at him and Jon nodded back. “My beautiful, broken, man…” Sansa sighed and then she leaned in to kiss his lips. Maybe it wasn’t appropriate, but after everything that had happened she couldn’t really worry about it.

“My strong, brave, lady…” Jon kissed her back.

It was only when her lips were red and swollen that she realized they had to leave. They had to leave right now and leave Jack the Ripper where he belonged. In the past.

“Let's go home. It’s time for you to officially ask my father for my hand in marriage.”

“What if he says no?”

“I will marry you anyway. You need me, Jon Snow.” Sansa stood up and reached out her hands to help Jon standing up too. “And I want you. And nothing else matters.”

[totallyrhettro]

The Lone Jedi, Chapter 17

Word Count: 2317 Rating: This chapter: G. Overall story: explicit Warnings: None Summary: Jedi Knight Rhett McLaughlin managed to escape the purge of the Emperor to become one of the last of his celibate order. After years of a solitary life, he finds himself with a former slave for a friend. Despite his efforts to maintain anonymity and the jedi code, he starts to realize that doing either is easier said than done. Notes: Star Wars AU; Events take place between episodes III and IV

First Chapter

Previous Chapter

*See the end of each chapter for additional notes on star wars terms*

Link POV

“You’re clear for landing, McLaughlin.”

“Acknowledged, tower,” Rhett answered, preparing the freighter for atmospheric entry. “Be advised we may have need for medical attention. Some of these slaves are in bad shape and my limited means could only do so much.”

“No problem. We’ll have medics standing by.” Closing the com channel, Rhett turned his attention to bringing the bulky space vessel into the rebel base. Link watched him closely. They hadn’t talked much since their last, emotionally-charged conversation. He didn’t look different, but Link couldn’t help but see someone else than the man he had grown to care for over the past few weeks. There had been so many secrets, so many hidden truths held back, but did it change who he was? The immediate answer was no; of course not. Link’s feelings for the man were still as strong as before, but something was different. If anything, his feelings had grown stronger. Rhett seemed so much more… real. All the pieces of his life were falling into place, revealing a portrait of someone who had seen more than just a provincial life.

“The rebels. They don’t know that you’re a jedi?”

“No,” Rhett stated firmly. “And I’d like to keep it that way.” Looking over at Link, his green eyes were duller than usual. “They know I’m not just a farmer from Chandrila. Most think I’m a general who got tired of the war, and I’m happy to let them keep thinking that.”

“I won’t say anything.” Link wished Rhett was trusting him with his secret because of love and friendship, but in reality he didn’t have a choice. It was all there on his face, even as he tried to keep his expression neutral. Nodding, he accepted Link’s answer, dropping the subject for now.

The rebel base was barely more than a hanger bay and a command center. It wasn’t much to look at; old starfighters, rusted cargo vessels, and a ragtag mix of volunteers and militia. A few pilots were out, working on their ships, while more men and women were heading over to see the newest arrival. Some were dressed physician garb, ready to treat the slaves who were in far worse shape than Link.

“This is the rebellion?” he commented, looking over the landing pad.

“May not seem like a lot, but a great deal can be done with small groups. They specialize in guerrilla tactics, hit and run, only going for targets on the fringe of the empire.” Getting up, Rhett held out his arms to Link, helping him get to his feet. He let the jedi gently support his weight, but he didn’t really need his assistance too badly. The pain in his shoulder had dulled to a tolerable level. “Besides, keeping these outposts small makes it harder to find everyone.” After a moment’s thought, Rhett removed his brown robe and wrapped it around his friend. Link wasn’t as bothered by his current lack of modesty, but he appreciated the gesture.

As they stepped out onto the tarmac, the back hatch was already wide open and the slaves, now free, were being examined by the local doctors. They didn’t have tracking shackles on, as Link had, but they were fitted with metal restraints that impeded their movement. These were being removed as well. Link watched as Rhett led him over to two people who were standing apart from the rest.

“McLaughlin,” greeted one, a fairly tall fellow in a military uniform. “Hex said you’d be coming by, but if I didn’t see it with my own eyes I wouldn’t have believed it.” He offered a hand and Rhett shook it firmly.

“Colonel Ida. I’m as surprised as you are, trust me.” With a hand on Link’s back, Rhett presented the two men to each other. “This is my friend. Link. He’s a former slave of Hutt Jarr. Link, this is Colonel Ida of the Atrivis Resistance Group.”

“Didn’t think you had any friends,” Ida joked, taking Link’s hand. “Nice to see someone can put up with this man,” he added to the brunet.

“It’s not easy,” Link retorted with a smile. He saw Rhett raise an amused eyebrow at him out of the corner of his eye. “But he did save my life. Twice. I guess I owe him.”

“As do many. I have seen this man take down a dozen men with just a blaster and his wits.” Ida looked over Rhett with pride. “I wish I had fifty of him. The empire would be defeated within a year.”

‘If you only knew,’ Link mused to himself.

“Are you here to stay this time, old friend? Have you finally come out of hiding for good?” Rhett ran his fingers through his hair and cleared his throat a bit before answering.

“I… haven't decided yet. I really didn’t mean to come out of hiding at all.” He glanced at Link. “Circumstances… required my attention.”

“I see. Well, whatever the reason, these men and women have you to thank for their freedom. It couldn’t have been done without your help.” Ida looked down at the datepad his assistant was holding up to him. Whatever he read replaced his friendly smile with a grimacing frown. It was only for a second then he put on a brave face before turning back to Rhett. “I’ll see if we can scrounge up a ride for you to wherever it is you plan on heading next. In the meantime, my home is yours. Lieutenant Berger can show you to your quarters.” He motioned to the short man beside him who nodded.

“Nothing wrong, I hope?” Rhett inquired.

“Probably nothing. Everyone always gets jumpy after a raid. Go on, McLaughlin, have a rest, a shower. You deserve it.” Ida smirked and added, “A clean shave wouldn’t go amiss.”

“You keep your hack barber away,” Rhett chuckled, lovingly stroking his beard. As the two groups parted ways, half of each laughing at the in-joke, Link leaned in close to Rhett.

“How do you know the Colonel?”

“Mostly through reputation. I heard a lot about him during the clone wars. He was an expert technician and a great leader. After the Republic fell, and rebellions began sprouting up over the galaxy, I helped him on a few missions. He never asked about my past, or my reasons, and I never told him. There were already more than a few folks with sordid pasts that had joined up to fight.” Rhett looked over the starfighters being worked on nearby. “Everyone had their reason for wanting to fight the empire. It didn’t take long to understand that it didn’t matter what those reasons were. Anyone willing to help was welcome to.”

“This was before you went to live in the ruins?”

“Yes.”

“Why did you stop fighting? Why did you leave the rebellion?” Rhett stopped just outside the barracks, looking down at his feet then over at off-duty the men and women inside who were cheerfully talking about one subject or another.

“I was never part of it, really. I couldn’t be. The risk of being discovered was too great.” He looked over at Link who was trying to be sympathetic but still didn’t understand. “Imagine being able to run faster than anyone, but unable to prove it. Imagine being able to help so many but unable to try.”

“You could help these people… But then the empire would find you.”

“It sounds so cowardly and m-maybe I was a coward but…” The jedi looked away again, eyes threatening to tear up again. “I was willing to lay down my life for every man and woman fighting against the imperial forces, but I wasn’t willing to risk the end of the order. When there are no jedi, the sith will have won.”

“I never realized the needs of the jedi order outweigh the needs of the entire galaxy,” Link remarked sardonically. Before Rhett could think of a reply, Link stepped away. He didn’t mean to sound so cold, but then the jedi’s view was cold. Had all the remaining jedi thought the same way? Were they all just hiding, waiting for the war with the empire to just blow over? It didn’t seem like cowardice exactly. Just, detached. Calculating. To be so apart from the universe, to see it as one watches a colony of ants. It was so… heartless. Not like the man Link thought he knew.

‘You don’t know him, remember?’ his brain reminded him. ‘Everything he told you about his life was a lie. He’s not the man you thought you loved.’

‘It’s just like he said,’ Link agreed. ‘I don’t know him.’

~

After exchanging his zoosha leggings with grey fatigue pants, he went to check out the local mess hall. He still wasn’t wearing a shirt, but he found this to be a fair compromise; he actually had enjoyed the breeziness of the semi-transparent fabric the zygerrians had given him. A few of the locals, mostly women, gave him lingering looks as he past them, but he paid them no mind. They could look all they wanted. In fact, he generally felt more comfortable here, on this small base, than he had expected. It reminded him of his life in the Hutt’s palace; when he was just with his fellow dancers. Relaxed atmosphere with a hint of that specific fear that comes from living with the constant threat of an oppressor.

The canteen was almost overwhelmingly green, with darker shades of the hue covering the walls. Obviously it had once been part of a larger ship, now salvaged and re-purposed to house several tables and an attached kitchen. A few refugees from the freighter Rhett had stolen were in there, similarly dressed in second-hand uniforms. They were checking out the provided food as if they had never seen such a banquet. In truth, there was only the mere basics of nourishment; trail rations and water. Not that Link was going to turn away food right now. Suddenly he was starving.

“Sorry the food isn’t better,” apologized a scruffy-looking pilot as Link sat down nearby. “No one signs up to this outfit for the cuisine.”

“I’m sure it’s fine,” Link ventured, bringing a spoonful up to his mouth. Second later a horrendously disgusted expression crossed his face. His years of picky eating did not prepare him for the gross taste.

“Don’t worry. Wherever you end up, they’ll probably have better food.”

“It can’t possibly be any worse,” another man chimed in, earning a chuckle from anyone listening in.

“I’m Kavra,” the first man offered before pointing at his colleague. “That’s Rudy.”

“Link.” He was happy to have the distraction of introductions and small talk from the tan-colored substance in front of him. Food may have been a misnomer. “Where are you guys from? How did you end up in the rebellion?”

“Well I used to serve under Colonel Ida during the clone wars. Rudy here signed up last year.” Perking up, Link tried to sound nonchalant, but he saw this as an opportunity to learn more.

“Colonel Ida? So you knew McLaughlin from back then, right?” Kavra shrugged.

“I didn’t really know him. Not sure anyone did, but the Colonel trusted him, so the rest of us had to put our faith in him.” Rudy nodded.

“I’ve heard plenty of stories about him,” he offered. “Fights like he’s had some serious training. Ex-military maybe.”

“How can you trust a man who won’t share his past?” Link wondered, looking down at his plate. Kavra paused a moment, thinking about his words carefully before answering.

“My old commander used to say, ‘once you’re in this rebellion, your past isn’t who defines you. All that matters is that you fight for your cause and your men until your dying breath.’” Meeting Link’s eyes he offered a soft smile. “I don’t know where McLaughlin comes from, but I know he’s a good man, and a fine soldier who’s willing to die for others, and that’s something we can all respect.”

“Hear, hear,” added Rudy, raising a glass. There was a slight smirk on his face, attesting to the slight humor in his cheer, but Link could tell he wholeheartedly agreed. Link didn’t return the acclamation or the grin, but slouched in his chair, chastising himself internally. Rhett had lied about his past, yes, but he had always seemed genuine when talking about things that really mattered. Perhaps the lie of his identity didn’t matter. He had kept the fact that he was a jedi a secret for a reason, after all. The only lie that Link cared about now was how he really felt.

When it came to his feelings for Link, what was the truth?

Link had to know. Had to find out once and for all. It was possible the two of them were destined to venture off into the vast galaxy and never see each other again. If that was to be the case then Rhett owed Link one last answer. One last truth.

Shoving away his unfinished meal, Link excused himself rather abruptly and headed out of the mess hall, looking for the man of the hour. Passing by random stranger after random stranger, he heard snippets of conversations. Conversations about the newest arrivals, and the man who managed to bring them in safe. Yet, when he inquired, he couldn’t find a single person who actually knew where he was. Finally Link headed for the command center. Ida was standing at a holomap of the area, discussing tactics with someone Link didn’t know. He looked very busy, but this was important.

“Colonel Ida?” he interrupted, politely as possible. “Could you tell me where McLaughlin went?” The Colonel gave him a slightly exasperated but sympathetic look.

“His shuttle just left com range,” he said double-checking the star charts behind him. “Crazy hermit’s gone back to Andasala.”

Next Chapter

Additional Notes-

Starfighter: a small and maneuverable spacecraft designed for combat in the atmosphere or space.

Atrivis Resistance Group: the alliance between the Fest Resistance Group and the survivors of the Mantooine Liberators to rebel against the Galactic Empire.

Holomap:  topographic maps portrayed by holographic means, usually for military use.

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