#daylight is mine to command

[wisterixs]

For the Doom of Gunmar, Eclipse is mine to command…

Did a lil sketch of troll Jim and wanted to post :3

Currently working on a lil Zelda grocery store AU comic that will be posted in the next few days keep an eye out

[kaliyakarnage]

This took me way longer than I had hoped for...and I will probably never draw anything in this style again^^'

It looks...okay, I guess? But it was kinda fun at least.

Again, I am way to late with this amazing series on netflix, since I have this streaming service for less than a year.

Love all the troll characters! Especially Blinky, Draal, AAAAARGH! and of course troll Jimbo! ^____^

Artwork(c)Kaliya

Character(c)Dreamworks

[iincogneeto]

YOUR A TROLL HUNTERS FAN????? THEY EXIST?? I'M NOT THE ONLY ONE

OMG YES?? I FUCKING LOVE TROLLHUNTERS OMG YES ANOTHER FAN LETS GO🔥����🔥🔥👅🔥 IM BACK INTO MY TOA PHASE THAT I GET EVERY 2 YEARS AND IM EVEN MAKING AN OC HEHEYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYYAYAYAY I LOVE TROLLHUNTERS

[caramelarrowswife]

i know youre working hard on finishing requests and we are all so thankful for your work

Bc all ur fics are absolute bangers <333

Still tho- i got a little prompt/request of a hc of mine if ur up for it.

Since vanilla extract contains alcohol, what if- Pure Vanilla’s kisses make one tipsy? (And by one I mean Dark Cacao obv)

Maybe the ficlet could be a lil suggestive if you feel comfortable enough with that. Its not a must tho!! ❤️

DRUNK ON LOVE

─── ∘°❉°∘ ───

Pure Vanilla Cookie, in an affectionate mood, visited his darling husband (who was busy overworking) to show him some love. The healer knew very well how much a small distraction could help with a large workload..

..He hadn’t meant to be this much of a distraction, though.

TWs: Alcohol, suggestive themes

A/N: thank you so much fhwebkrfw <333

─── ∘°❉°∘ ───

Pure Vanilla walked through the halls of Citadel, his light clothing standing out against the dark patterns of the Dark Cacao Kingdom. None of the maids or warriors looked at him weirdly; the monarch’s presence was as regular as that of his Majesty himself.

This time, he had a specific mission. He would visit his husband, king Dark Cacao Cookie, and (kindly) force him to take a break, however small it might be. Perhaps he could be convinced to take a walk.. it was a beautiful day - by Cacaoian standards, at least.

Finally arriving by the large door that led to Dark Cacao’s study, Pure Vanilla knocked. After a second or two, a quiet ‘Enter’ was heard. When Pure Vanilla walked into the dimly lit room, his suspicions were confirmed.

Dark Cacao Cookie sat behind his desk, hunched over a scroll. Many more of the same sort were scattered over the desk and the floor, the king’s usual precision nowhere to be found.

A sharp hiss was heard from Dark Cacao at the bright daylight that fell into his room. “Close that.”

Pure Vanilla did as he was asked (commanded). The monarch swiftly made his way over to Dark Cacao, carefully stepping over the scrolls to make sure he didn’t crush any.

“Cacao,” Pure Vanilla murmured.

He received no answer. The healer put his head on Dark Cacao’s shoulder to watch if he had even noticed.

A slight mistake near the bottom; one of the characters had a line that was just a little too long, perhaps caused by a small distraction. Pure Vanilla was just being ignored, then.

“Dark Cacao Cookie,” Pure Vanilla said again, his voice more serious this time.

Ah, his full name got a reaction out of the stoic king. Dark Cacao looked up, a little hazy, staring at Pure Vanilla’s face just inches from his.

“What is it you need..? I’m busy.”

“Too busy, one might dare say,” Pure Vanilla hummed. “The Citadel is concerned.”

“Well, you will have to reassure them,” Dark Cacao said, returning to his work.

Pure Vanilla clacked his tongue, eyebrows furrowing slightly. That just wouldn’t do.

He leaned over slightly, pressing a small kiss to Dark Cacao’s lips.

That truly got his attention. He looked up, a little wary, but his eyes had the shine of a toddler tasting their first candy.. Wait, he wasn’t supposed to feel like a toddler tasting their fi-

Before Pure Vanilla could finish that thought, gloved hands had cupped his cheeks and Dark Cacao’s lips were back on him. Dark Cacao pushed the tip of his tongue into Pure Vanilla’s mouth, desperately chasing after the sweet flavour he tasted.

Pure Vanilla, pleased his distraction had worked, let him do as he pleased.. It wasn't until Dark Cacao pulled back that the healer noticed the strange glaze over his eyes.

“Cacao?” Pure Vanilla frowned. “Are you alright..?”

“Yes..” Dark Cacao’s voice had a slight slur to it. “Let me.. I need to..”

“Look at me.” Pure Vanilla pulled back slightly, and Dark Cacao let out a pitiful groan. That.. wasn’t like him at all.

Pure Vanilla cupped Dark Cacao’s face with his hands, staring into those unfocused, amethyst eyes. Normally, Dark Cacao would��ve batted his hands away, and it was a little worrying that he hadn’t done that just now.

Oh. Oh.

Pure Vanilla could hit himself.

Of course… when Strawberry Crêpe Cookie had done a scan on his dough recently, and had found an alcohol percentage of 35%. Dark Cacao hadn’t had any issues with it in the past, but if he was in a weak state…

“‘Nilla..” Dark Cacao slurred. “Come- come on, don’t be like that.. let-le’me have–”

Pure Vanilla opened his mouth to reply, but all Dark Cacao saw was an opportunity. He leaned forward and messily kissed Pure Vanilla’s cheeks, and then his forehead, and then his lips. This much affection from the king was unheard of, and Pure Vanilla felt himself growing red.

“Cacao,” Pure Vanilla murmured softly. “You are not in the right mind. Stop it.”

Dark Cacao might have been as desperate as a starving hound, but he knew how to recognise boundaries. He let his head fall against Pure Vanilla’s shoulder with a small grunt, his abdomen unnecessarily needy.

“At least..” Pure Vanilla said with a small smile. “That is not to say I won’t reconsider when you’re sober.”

[liahopejames]

I HAVE DAYLIGHT.

DAYLIGHT IS MINE TO COMMAND.

I AM THE HUMAN TROLLHUNTER

[ficfluffqueen]

The Elven King Who Never Belonged to you (Thranduil x Reader)

The storm had come out of nowhere.

One moment, you were hurrying home through the rain, pulling your coat tighter, and the next—a blinding flash of light, a searing crack of energy, and then... nothing

When you regained your senses, you found yourself in a dark, imposing forest. Rain lashed at you from every direction, cold and relentless. The towering trees, their twisted branches forming a dense canopy, blocked out the faintest hint of daylight. The ground beneath you was thick with mud, and the scent of pine and damp earth filled the air.

You turned around, panic rising. This wasn’t a dream it was real.

Hooves clattered in the distance, growing louder and more distinct. You turned just in time to see a tall figure emerging from the mist, mounted on a pale, elegant moose.He was dressed in silver and green, a crown of woven branches and red leaves atop his head.

Thranduil.

You recognized him immediately. The Elvenking from “The Hobbit trilogy”. The same regal, mesmerizing figure you had admired from afar and had harbored a secret crush on. The character from countless fanfictions and daydreams, the subject of your deepest fantasies. Now, standing before him in the flesh, the fantasy was uncomfortably real.

Thranduil’s appearance was as breathtaking as it was intimidating. His pale face, starkly visible in the intermittent lightning, was as beautiful as it was cold. His icy blue eyes scrutinized you with an unsettling intensity. The awe you had felt from reading about him was replaced by an overwhelming sense of dread.

“Who are you?” His voice cut through the storm, commanding and severe.

You shivered, the rain blurring your vision. “I’m y/n” !You stammered, trying to keep your voice steady. “I... I don’t know how I got here. I’m not from this world.”

Thranduil’s eyes narrowed, his expression as unfeeling as stone. “That much is obvious,” he said, dismounting with a fluid grace that seemed almost mocking. He approached you with deliberate steps, his long robes trailing through the rain, making you feel small and insignificant.

“You do not belong here,” he declared, his tone final and harsh.

The weight of his words crashed over you. This wasn’t a dream or a fleeting thought. You were truly standing before the Elvenking, the object of your deepest crush. The realization that the fantasy you had cherished was shattering under his cold gaze was almost too much to bear. “I know,” you whispered, the chill and the truth sinking in. “I don’t want to cause harm. I just... I don’t know if I can go back.”

Thranduil’s gaze remained unyielding, as if he was assessing you with a detached curiosity. The only sound was the relentless patter of rain. After a moment, he spoke again, his voice carrying a sharper edge.

“Do you wish to return to your world?” His tone was almost disdainful, as if he was challenging you to admit your desires.

You blinked, the question catching you off guard. Did you want to go back? The rational part of you screamed yes. Your world was familiar, even if it was mundane. But here, standing before Thranduil, you felt a pull, a longing for something more. “I... I don’t know,” you admitted, your voice trembling.

Thranduil’s gaze remained impassive, his face a mask of regal indifference. “Mortals are often drawn to what they cannot have,” he said, his tone dismissive. “You yearn for what lies beyond your reach, yet do not understand the true cost.”

He moved closer, the scent of rain-soaked leaves and ancient wood filling the air between you. His voice dropped to a whisper, the finality in his words cutting through the storm. “Every world has its own order. Yours is not here, just as mine is not in the world you left behind.”

The finality of his words hit you like a physical blow. You opened your mouth to argue, to explain that you wanted to stay, to explore this world you had only ever dreamed of. But as you looked into his eyes, the reality set in. This world was not yours to claim. You were a stranger, an intrusion into its natural order.

“I... understand,” you said quietly, the bitter taste of acceptance settling in your mouth.

For a brief moment, you thought you saw something flicker in his eyes—regret, or perhaps sorrow. But it was gone as quickly as it had appeared, replaced once more by the cool, detached demeanor of the Elvenking.

“The storm will pass,” Thranduil said, turning away from you with a dismissive air. “And so will you.”

You stood alone in the rain, watching as he remounted his moose with practiced grace. His soldiers, silent and watchful, followed him as he rode away, his figure gradually dissolving into the mist and shadows of the forest.

As the storm began to ease, you felt a strange warmth envelop you. Your body grew heavy, your vision blurring as the forest around you distorted once more. The harsh truth of your situation settled in—the dream and fantasy of being with Thranduil had been a mere illusion.

Just before everything faded completely, you found yourself back in the city streets, rain still falling, your coat as damp as before. The familiar cold and grayness of your world was now a painful reminder of what you had lost.

The harsh reality was clear. The Elven King, who had lived in your dreams and stories, was a figure who never truly belonged to you. He remained an unreachable ideal, a dream shattered by the cruel light of reality.

And as the rain continued to pour, you understood that some things were never meant to be grasped. Some lives and worlds were only fleeting glimpses, meant to remain just out of reach.

The biggest and saddest realization that you made was that the Elven King never belonged to you….

[belit0]

Hello! I'am a fan of your work and I would like to make a request.

Can you write about a scenario of Tobirama having a lover female Uchiha in secret, like he likes her personality and her body, but feel ashame of thinking of someone find out.

The real juicy drama starts when Tobirama find other lover and ditsh his Uchiha babe, she end up marrying some clanman of her clan and after some time, Tobirama have a hard time find out and decides to pay her a visit... (powerplay, breedding kink, posessive behavior, jealosy and preasing kink).

Hi! Thank you for being here!!!

Tobirama had always kept her in the dark.

Not out of cruelty, but because that’s where he believed she belonged—hidden.

She was an Uchiha.

A sharp-tongued, self-possessed woman with too much fire in her eyes and not nearly enough restraint in her laugh.

Everything about her was wrong for him.

But gods, her presence fit perfectly in the hollow parts of his nights.

He liked her wit.

Her voice when she whispered things only he heard.

He liked her mind—and, truthfully, he liked her body even more.

The way it moved, the way it waited for him, the way it challenged him in every damn way.

But no one could ever know.

He never walked beside her in public.

Never touched her hand when others might see.

Even when he stayed the night, he left before sunrise, silent and composed.

When she asked him once—softly, not accusing—“Will I ever not be your secret?”

He hadn’t answered.

And then… he found someone else.

Quiet. Respectable. A distant cousin from an allied clan. No risk, no fire, and no shame attached.

Tobirama ended things with (Y/N) in a letter.

Precise. Cold. Unapologetic.

“This can no longer continue.”

So she moved on.

Months passed.

Maybe a year.

He didn’t keep count.

Until one afternoon, Izuna's voice broke into a council session, low and amused:

–Did you hear? (Y/N)’s wedding was beautiful.

Tobirama didn’t flinch. He didn’t even blink.

But his hand clenched around his pen so tightly it cracked.

He dismissed himself early.

Returned to the silence of his study.

Sat still for a long time.

And then, one evening, long after dusk, he went to see her.

She lived in a quiet part of the Uchiha district now. Lanterns glowed dim behind the screens.

He knocked once, twice.

When the door opened, she stood there in a deep crimson robe, her hair long, loose, her eyes—those same eyes—blinking at him in stunned silence.

–What are you doing here?

He didn’t answer.

Just stepped past her, uninvited.

The house was warm. Lived in.

There was a cup still steaming on the table. Another pair of shoes by the door.

He didn’t ask.

–You love him?— he said, turning to face her.

She stared.

–What does it matter? You made your choice.

He stepped closer.

–Did you sleep with him yet?

Her lips parted in shock.

–You don’t get to ask me that.

–Answer me.— His voice was cold. Controlled. Too controlled.

She didn’t.

He moved closer again, his presence dark and quiet and consuming.

–You were mine. You let him touch what belonged to me?

She slapped him.

Hard.

–I was never yours. Not if you were too ashamed to be seen with me.

His jaw clenched.

His eyes flickered with something old, violent, and deeply buried.

–You married him just to spite me.

–No. I married him because he looks at me in daylight. Because I don’t have to wonder if I’m a sin in his bed.

Tobirama said nothing.

His breathing shallow now.

His eyes sharp, venomous.

–You gave me up.- She was calm. Unshaking. –And you don’t get to haunt me now that someone else didn’t.—

He stepped back once, jaw tight.

–You’re still mine, whether you admit it or not.

She should have told him to leave.

Should have screamed, thrown something, summoned her husband, anything—

But she didn’t.

And Tobirama saw it in her silence.

In the clenching of her fists.

In the firestorm behind her eyes.

Her hands trembled slightly, not in fear—but in memory.

He stepped forward.

–Come.— His voice was low.

Commanding.

She shook her head once, defiant.

But her feet moved anyway.

He took her wrist—roughly, with strength that made it clear he wasn’t asking—and led her out into the night.

The forest swallowed them whole.

The lanterns of the Uchiha compound vanished behind branches and shadows.

Somewhere far behind, her husband slept, unaware.

And she was pressed against a tree the next breath, the bark cold against her back.

Tobirama's hand braced beside her head, his body a wall of heat and discipline breaking at the seams.

–You let him touch you like I did?— he asked, his voice just above a whisper.

She glared. –You don’t get to ask.—

–You think he knows how your body folds when you’re aching? Think he knows how to make you beg without a sound?- His mouth brushed her ear, breath scalding.

She gasped.

–I hate you,— she whispered.

–I know.— His hand slid up her waist, then down in between her legs, uninvited but familiar. –And yet, you’re soaked just from hearing me talk.—

Her knees buckled at the blatant truth of it.

The forest was quiet. Too quiet.

Only the beat of her heart thundered in her ears as his fingers dug into her, touching her like a possession long lost, sliding in and out.

–You’re not his. You’ll never be his.

–You... chose someone else.

–And now I’ve changed my mind.

His hand disappeared from her pussy while he turned her and pressed her chest to the tree, her robes already half undone from their struggle in the dark.

The air was cold. His mouth was hot.

And where his hands went, heat followed.

–Still mine (Y/N). Look at you… legs shaking like they used to. Can’t even speak.

She bit back a sound, but he caught it.

–Don’t pretend you didn’t miss this.— His voice dropped to something darker. –The way I mark you. The way you limp after. The way my hand fits around your throat when I tell you who you belong to.—

His fingers found her center again, embarrassingly slick.

–Pathetic,— he murmured. –Still so easy for me.—

Her eyes fluttered shut.

The shame of it, the truth of it, pooled low in her belly.

He didn’t tease for long.

Tobirama was never one to waste time.

When he pushed into her, it wasn’t gentle—it was claiming.

The forest floor became a mess of torn leaves and muffled gasps.

His pace was brutal, precise, like he needed to brand her from the inside out.

She gritted her teeth, clutching at the tree, and he leaned in, lips brushing her ear.

–No one else gets to hear you like this.— A thrust. Deep. Measured. –No one else gets you folded open like this. You understand me?—

She sobbed something like a yes.

–Say it.—

–Yours,— she choked out, furious at herself.

He slowed, then—cruelly tender.

His hand curved around her throat, pressing her flush against him, his voice almost gentle now, a blade sheathed in velvet.

–That’s right. You’re perfect when you’re broken like this. My good girl. My ruin. My home.

He whispered her name like worship.

Like prayer.

The kind only said when no one else was listening.

And when she fell apart in his arms, clinging to that tree like a lifeline and a curse, he held her through it.

Not kind. Not cruel.

Just his.

By the time they returned, leaves still tangled in her hair, marks blooming down her throat and collar, she didn’t bother hiding them.

Let her husband ask.

She belonged to a ghost in the forest.

One who would never let her go.

[yumelatte]

Of All The Things, I Became A Priestess In Amphoreus - Chapter Two

The Way To The Male Lead's Heart Is By Thanking Him

In which you wake up to find yourself being a priestess in an otome game, and Phainon is the knight commander at the temple.

Phainon’s the true male lead; you’re not the female lead, but it sure feels like it.

Otome Isekai AU

AO3 Link

Masterlist

<- Previous Chapter | 2: The Way To The Male Lead's Heart Is By Thanking Him | Next Chapter ->

A warm feeling on your skin brought back your senses as your eyes fluttered open—vision adjusting to the bright daylight. One of your hands came up to shield your face from the intense sensation before registering the scratchy texture of the plants beneath you. 

You were lying in the middle of a wheat field with white clouds streaking across the cyan sky. Faint wind tousled the loose strands of your hair, and you closed your eyes again to take in the warm light and refreshing breeze. 

Relaxing.

That was all you could think of as you laid there—wishing the feeling would never end. You didn’t know how you got here, but you weren’t bothered by it that much. 

“Hi!” 

Startled by the unexpected feminine voice, you immediately sat up in the direction the sound came from. 

With a hand covering her mouth, a pink-haired girl decorated with bows quickly apologized for scaring you. “Haha, did I scare you? Sorry! I had to get your attention, somehow.” 

Her outfit consisted of a dark dress accented with a lighter color, and her shoulders were exposed to the environment. 

She didn’t look harmful in the slightest; however, looks can be deceiving…

You decided to give her the benefit of the doubt, but opted to proceed with caution. “Who are you?” 

The unfamiliar girl thought for a moment before replying, “Mmm… Someone who’s not your enemy. If anything, we have a common enemy.” 

Your expression twisted into one of incredulousness. There was no way you made an enemy out of someone when you hadn't even left the temple yet. “Enemy? I don’t have one.” 

She smiled mischievously as if she knew something you didn’t, and all of a sudden, she was making you doubt yourself a little.

“Actually, you have many… but that’s okay! I’m here to help with that.” 

You were less than convinced—unsure if you should trust this mysterious person you just met in Kephale knows where.

You didn’t have enemies, right? You thought about your time at the temple. You had kept to yourself, and the only contact you had with other people was through your clinic. Then again… you had rejected people in need of help before—the ones afflicted with wounds on their souls. Maybe you did have enemies…

She was less than thrilled with your silence—patience wearing thin at your reluctance. 

“You don’t believe me?” 

“Of course not!” She expected you to just accept her blindly just like that? You had only just met her!

But then her next sentence shook you to your core. 

Her bright blue eyes darkened as she said your name with absolute certainty, “Outlander, there are things I can’t tell you, but I need your help as much as you need mine.” 

Now, you definitely shouldn’t trust her. 

Fearing you had been caught in your lies, you froze and couldn’t speak—not until she spoke again. 

Sighing defeatedly, she gave you her name, “Cyrene… my name.” 

You didn’t remember a Cyrene in the game, but you didn’t get very far, so you had to just roll with it. 

“Okay, nice to meet you… Cyrene. You already know my name and more about me, I guess…” She had an unfair advantage over you in this first meeting. 

Her thumb and index finger touched as she made the gesture of zipping her mouth shut and fingers untouching as she metaphorically threw away the pull tab. “Your secret is safe with me.” Turning away from you, she muttered in her next words, “Not like I can tell anybody anyways…”

You couldn’t hear what she had said. “Huh?” 

“Nothing! Just know that I’ll always have your best interests in mind.” Her lips were upturned into a slight smile as she looked back at you. 

The wind picked up its pace—fluttering Cyrene’s pink hair and dress and rustling the wheat field. “I don’t have much time. We’ll talk again soon.”

With her parting words, the world of warm sunshine and beautiful painted clouds disappeared from you as you opened your eyes once more—suddenly gaining awareness of your current surroundings. 

You had woken up in your bed. Sliding a hand down your face, you tried to process what you had just seen in your dreams.  

…That girl, Cyrene, had known your name, but that was not all. It wasn’t enough that she knew your name because the priestess you were occupying had the same name as you—she knew of your true identity. 

She had called you Outlander. And it was true—you didn’t belong here. How did you get here in this world in the first place? Maybe she was the key in all of this. You decided to trust her for now. She had said she needed your help as much as you needed hers. But you also wondered what she needed help with? She had also said you both had a common enemy. Who was it? 

Ugh, too many questions for your newly awoken self. What a headache—you’ll think about this later. 

Because it was a new day, you had something else to worry about.

Stretching your arms, you let out a big yawn as your blurry vision adjusted to the morning light. Your eyes swept beside you; the plain bed across from yours was empty and tidy. 

Lydia must have been at the morning ceremony already. Ever since the first time she had prevented you from being late, she had woken you up that whole week. After seeing you being able to rise by yourself, she had stopped waking you up and let you sleep in for a little longer. Morning ceremony had a brief grace period before it began, which you were thankful for. You had never been an early riser, but you had no choice in this world. 

You stepped out of your warm and comfy haven to get the day started. As you changed your sleeping clothes into the white shawl and priestess robes, you expected this day to be like any other one—average and uniformed. After getting ready and making sure you were presentable, you made haste in arriving at the morning ceremony. Lydia spotted you as you appeared in the large room, and she waved you down. You walked in her direction and thanked her for saving you a seat. There was still some time before the priest leading the sermon would appear, so you chatted with your roommate. 

“No problem, you can return the favor by going with me somewhere on our break!” Lydia had a shy smile gracing her face. 

One of your eyebrows raised in confusion, “What?” 

“Remember what you said last time?” Lydia was fiddling with her fingers as she talked. “About thanking Sir Phainon with cookies.” 

Of course, you remembered that conversation; you just didn’t think she would follow through with it. 

“You’re serious?” 

“You gave me the idea, so don’t be surprised that I was going to do it!” Lydia pouted, offended that you didn’t think she would have the guts. “Come with me, please… I’m going to do it, but I need your support.” 

She wasn’t wrong, and you couldn’t fault her for wanting to thank Phainon. He had saved her life, so it was only a matter of time before she found the courage to show him her gratitude… But did she need to drag you into this? Weighing your options, you thought about your attempts in staying away from the head knight. You had worked really hard to not attract Phainon’s attention. You didn’t want to undo all your hard work… but as long as he doesn’t see you, it should be fine, right? 

“Okay, I’ll come and support you,” You watched as Lydia’s eyes lit up, “from a distance.” Her bright expression morphed into one of confusion. 

Lydia said your name inquisitively, “Do you have something against Sir Phainon?” 

Without missing a beat, you replied, “No.” 

Lydia hummed, studying you for a moment before letting you off the hook. “As long as you’re there for me.”

You could tell she wanted to ask more, but you were glad she wasn’t pushing her curiosity. If she had pushed for more information, you weren’t sure what you would have said. 

Imagine if you said that you’ve been trying to avoid our resident knight commander because you didn’t want to get close to him. You could imagine Lydia going, ‘Oh, why do you not want to get close to him?’ You would say, ‘The funny thing is that I do, but I’m saving my future self from the heartbreak that would inevitably happen.’  She would say, ‘What do you mean by that?’ And your response would be, ‘Well, Phainon has someone that is destined to be with him in the near future, and I didn’t want to get in the way of that.’ She would probably laugh and say that you were being silly. 

Yeah, there was no way you could admit the truth to her; it sounded so unbelievable. 

Too absorbed into your conversation with Lydia, you hadn’t noticed the priest coming in. It was only when the priest loudly cleared his throat that you stopped talking. The priest’s noise silenced the chattering room immediately and gained everyone’s attention.

“I’ll meet you at your clinic on our break.” Lydia quickly whispered to you as the morning ceremony commenced. You gave her a quick nod as your answer, and focused your eyes ahead—Lydia doing the same. 

After the morning ceremony and some breakfast, you headed towards the place you always went to in your daily routine—the clinic. When you got into the room, you didn’t see your fellow healer at his neat desk. Not thinking much of it, you settled in your chair at your own not-so-tidy desk. 

Zayne will probably come in soon. 

With only yourself to keep company, Cyrene’s earlier words echoed in your head. There was an enemy that was threatening your very existence. Scratching your head, you racked your brain for any memory that could help in identifying what was looming over you, but nothing came to mind. What was the plot to the game you were playing again? 

…Ah, you couldn’t remember! When you were playing, your attention had been on Phainon—not on the story. Honestly, how did they expect you to absorb the plot when Phainon was right there in front of your face? 

His charming looks should be illegal… 

A translucent pink box suddenly appeared before you, and your eyes widened at the out-of-place display. It looked like the text box that provided description and dialogue in the game. Narrowing your eyes, you watched as white text filled up the empty space.

[ Hi again! I told you we would talk soon (*'▽'*) ]

This must be Cyrene, and she must have thought adding that cute emoji at the end would make her seem less threatening. 

…It was working.

Looking around the room, you wondered if anybody else could see this even though there was no one in the area but you. 

As if knowing what you were thinking, the white text from before vanished and new ones took its place. 

[ Don’t worry. Only you can see this (*ゝω・*) ]

[ But you’re going to have to speak aloud to communicate with me,

so maybe talk to me discreetly or else people might think you’re crazy (；・▽・)  ]

Now that you know you could talk to Cyrene outside the dream realm, you were determined to get your questions answered. She had said she couldn’t tell you about some information, but you deserved at least some answers if you were going to help her. 

“You said you needed my help as much as I needed yours. What did you mean by that?” 

[ Like I said, we have a common enemy. If this enemy were to perish, we would both have what we want. ]

“And what is it that I want?” 

[ You want to go back to your home world, right? ]

If you were being honest, you never thought about getting back to the place that you were originally from before. Living in Amphoreus wasn’t so bad, after all… Did you want to go back? Not really. You had nothing waiting for you back in your world. At least in Amphoreus, you could help cure people, and you had a decent lifestyle. 

The reason you had been playing an otome game was to escape reality. The real world was cruel and unforgiving, and you were kind of glad to wake up in a new world even if you were basically starting from scratch. It was painful, tiring, and lonely living in your times. Your job had been working you to the bone, and you barely had any free time. With no time to yourself, you couldn’t socialize and create connections with other people. You couldn’t even enjoy and finish the game with what little time you had. 

You had a tendency to learn quickly, so adjusting to Amphoreus wasn’t too difficult for you even if you did complain about it. So, no—you didn’t want to go back to your home world. Curse whoever had put you here, but also bless whoever had given you a new life. 

“Honestly, I don’t really want to go back…” 

[ Huh? Σ(°ロ°) Then I don’t know what you want… but I really do need your help! What do you want? I can help if it's within my abilities. ]

What did you want? Well, the only logical answer would be…

“A guide.”

[ ? ]

“I need someone to guide me through Amphoreus. As you know, I’m not from here, so there are some things I’m not sure about. I’m positive you’re familiar with this land, right?” 

[ …Well, you’re not wrong. If I become your guide, you’ll help me out as well? ]

“Deal,” you paused, thinking for a moment. How can you help her, though? She seems awfully confident in your abilities, but all you could do was heal people. You didn’t have any experience in combat. Who is the enemy, and how capable are they? “But you have to tell me what I’m up against.” 

[ …Um, I can’t do that. Just know I’m going to prepare you thoroughly. Also, you’ll need to receive help from someone else. ]

Why is she being so vague? What kind of harm would happen if she told you in more details? 

“Who is this someone else? And don’t say you can’t tell! If you do, I won’t go along with you anymore.” 

[ Phainon. ]

Hold on, did she say Phainon? The man you were trying to avoid this whole time? Oh Kephale, did it really have to be him…

“Does it really have to be him?” 

[ Yes, it does. You have the healing capabilities to support him in his superior fighting. You have something against the kind and reliable knight commander? ]

The way she was describing him bothered you. “You know him?” 

[ You could say that… ]

“Does he know you? Also, you’re communicating with me this way, but like… do you have a physical form?” 

[ …It’s complicated. That’s why I need your help. ]

Letting out a deep sigh, you were left with more questions than answers. But why Phainon? You had made it your second life’s goal to ignore him, and Cyrene had to ruin it by making you recruit him. 

“It’s not like I have a grudge against him. Actually, it’s what I don’t have…” Trailing off, you didn’t finish your response. The more you thought about it, the more you were feeling like you were the main character. Side characters didn’t have mysterious figures appearing in their dreams and urging them to save them, right? And certainly, they didn’t have said figures also tracking you outside the dreams… but there was no way you were the main character, right? You shook your head to banish that dangerous thought from you. Fine, if she wanted you to come into contact with him, you would do so—you would only have the bare minimum interaction with him. 

[ What don’t you have? I’m not following. ]

“Forget it. I’ll do what you asked, and get Phainon to accompany me. Can I ask how I’m going to convince him?” 

[ You don’t have to worry about that. Something is coming soon that will tie yours and Phainon’s paths together. ]

…She’s making it sound like you were fated to him. 

Before you could get another word in, Zayne stepped into the clinic, giving you a slight nod in acknowledgement. For a brief moment, you had forgotten about being inside the room because your conversation with Cyrene felt more important. 

Despite his sudden appearance, the floating pink box before you didn’t disappear. Zayne had already made himself comfortable in his chair, and he continued business like nothing was ordinary. 

[ Best not to talk with me anymore unless you want him to think you’re crazy, haha (ᵕ — ᴗ —) ]

You couldn’t argue with that. With no more dialogue from Cyrene, the translucent pink screen vanished from your view. 

And so, you and Zayne sat in silence while waiting for clients to come in. 

True to her words, Lydia found you during her break. Her head peeked through the doorway as her eyes searched for you. You were stretching out your limbs because sitting in one place for too long was tiring. After being in the clinic for quite some time, it was time for a break. Lydia’s eyes met yours, and you gestured for her to wait outside while you wrapped up whatever you were doing.

You walked past Zayne’s desk and notified him that you were going on a small break. He didn’t look away from his papers as he told you to enjoy it. 

Walking outside the clinic, you saw Lydia waiting by the entrance. She had a blue bag tied neatly with a white ribbon in her hand. 

Head tilting towards the item, you asked curiously, “Those are the cookies?” 

Lydia nodded eagerly. “Yes, I made them earlier at the start of my break. I hope they’re good enough for Sir Phainon.” She started walking in the direction of the knight’s training grounds, and you followed after her.

“You’re the best baker in the area. Of course, he’ll like them. Speaking of which, since I’m supporting you and all… when will I get some?” Everyone in the temple welcomed her pastries and enjoyed them very much. She was a talented baker, and if she wasn’t serving Kephale as a priestess, you were sure she would be running her own bakery. Lydia loved to make sweets on special occasions, so to be on the receiving end would be a great honor. 

“You get my baking all the time because you’re always offering to be my taste tester. You’re making it sound like I never give you anything.” Lydia accused you with no real harm. 

Mustering the saddest puppy eyes you could give her, you looked at her. “Yeaaah, but it’s been a while since the last time…”

“...Fine, I’ll make you something tomorrow. Today is Sir Phainon’s turn.” Lydia stopped mid-step as if she realized something. “I’m going to see Sir Phainon…” 

You were confused on why she paused her walking all of a sudden. “I thought that was already established?” 

She turned towards you, and you could see that she was shaking a little. Nervousness, maybe? “I’m actually going to see him! Thanking him and everything!”

“Don’t start backing out now, Lydia. You already made the cookies, and we’re already almost there at the training grounds.” If she backed out now, you were going to yell at her. 

“I swear I’m not! I just have to gather my nerves together…” Lydia closed her eyes and shook her head to calm herself down. 

While she was doing that, you turned your head slightly, and you noticed that the library entrance was nearby. You had said you would support her from a distance. The library’s balcony had an excellent view overlooking the knight’s training grounds, and you were guilty of staring at them when they were doing drills, sometimes when studying about Amphoreus. 

Lydia would have to brace herself for the battlefield alone while you cheered her on from the sideline. 

“Okay, I’m going to the balcony in the library. I’ll be cheering for you there!” You placed a hand on your forehead to salute her. 

Lydia composed herself. “What? You’re going to be that far?” 

“It’s not even that far. Trust me, I can see you and Phainon just fine. And I know you’ll be just fine when talking to him. He’s way too nice for any other outcome.” 

“...If you say so… Okay, I’m going to make the rest of the journey by myself. Can we meet here again after it’s been done?” 

“Sure.” 

You and Lydia parted ways—you heading inside the library and her heading to where Phainon should be. 

When you arrived on the balcony, you saw the faint figures of knights on the field, and Lydia slowly approaching them. You didn’t see the head knight anywhere though. 

From your point of view, the training knights quickly noticed her and greeted her—probably asking why she was there. Lydia covered her face in an attempt to hide her flustered expression as she explained she was there to see Phainon. The knights’ shoulders shook with laughter, but they were not unkind. One of the knights pointed at the building behind them and made a move to go there. You guessed he was fetching their boss for Lydia. 

After a moment, you saw the familiar snowy white hair emerging from the building and following the man that went to get him. Phainon looked confused when he spotted the priestess waiting with the group of knights that were supposed to be on drills. Once he reached them, he greeted Lydia and waved the knights away. They dispersed and went back to their own businesses, but threw curious looks towards the pair. 

You watched as Lydia abruptly shoved the cookie bag in her hands before Phainon’s surprised face, and that’s when something caught your attention. It was a small thing—miniscule and subtle but it was there. 

As the exchange was going on, you were unable to witness it because you were distracted by what you had noticed. 

There was something floating above his head; however, you couldn’t tell what it was from where you were. You moved closer to the railing to see if you could make it out clearer, but it didn’t help. Using the railing as leverage, you stepped on it with one foot and leaned forward while squinting your eyes in Phainon’s direction. You didn’t realize you kept trying to get closer until it was too late. 

[ Hey! What are you doing? You’re about to fall! ( ˶°ㅁ°) !! ] 

The translucent pink box flashed before your eyes, but the warning was too slow. 

In a panic, you slipped, and gravity was pulling you towards the floor below. 

You closed your eyes and braced for impact. 

So, this was how you died? 

Not even from a battle? It was because of your own stupid mistake that had you dying. 

What happens if you die in Amphoreus? Do you cease to exist here even if you weren’t born here? 

That thought terrified you.

You should’ve been more careful, but you really wanted to know what that thing above Phainon’s head was. 

But with no feeling or the sound of the hard ground, you slowly opened your eyes to see ones of a pretty blue and uniquely patterned. 

You didn’t feel the ground, you felt something different—the feeling of Phainon’s hands on you was foreign, and your skin prickled at the contact. One of his arms was under your legs, and another was on your back. You stared up at him while he bored his gaze into yours. 

Time felt like it slowed down at this moment, and it gave you a chance to look up. 

A white circle, with a grey heart sitting slightly on top of it, had the number ‘2’ and a percentage sign beside it. 

That was new and weird; you hadn’t seen that from all the other times you’ve encountered him before. Should you be worried? The only thing that changed was that you had Cyrene as your guide now. You need to ask her about that later. 

You faintly heard your name being called along with your title. Realizing that you were looking at Phainon for too long, you snapped out of your daze.

“Priestess? Are you alright?” His worried voice filled the air. 

“Fine...” Removing your eyes from him, you turned your head to see that you had an audience—the knights from earlier and Lydia, all looking at you and Phainon with worried eyes. You felt heat creeping up your neck to your cheeks at their stares. With a shaky and quiet voice, you directed it at the man you were in the arms of. “...Can you… put me down now?” 

Phainon’s eyes widened as if he just realized he was still holding you. “Oh, sorry. Here.” He quickly and gently let you down. 

Noticing the curious looks that his knights were giving the two of you, Phainon reassured them that everything was okay and ordered them to get back to their drills. Again, they listened to him and scattered, but they hung around closer. 

Lydia rushed to your side and swept her eyes over you to see if you were injured. “Oh, thank Kephale you’re okay! I noticed you leaning a bit too much over the railing for some reason, so I shouted your name. Thank Kephale for Sir Phainon’s reaction time too! I thought you were smarter than that.” 

Embarrassed at your stupid display, you apologized. “Sorry for worrying you, Lydia. I was… distracted. Won’t happen again.” You looked back at Phainon. 

He already had his attention on you, and his striking eyes met yours. 

Phainon had caught you and saved you from death, at worst. Thanking him should count as a bare minimum interaction you set for yourself with him. 

“Thank you for catching me, Phainon. Um, I don’t have tasty cookies to give you like Lydia, but I hope you can appreciate my verbal thanks.” You gave him a quick bow before coming back up. 

Your curiosity was piqued as the number above his head was raised by one—turning the ‘2%’ from earlier to ‘3%.’ 

“I appreciate your thanks, but you don’t have to thank me, Priestess. If a life is in danger, I would try my best to save it. It’s only right.” Phainon smiled slightly, but it faltered as if he registered what you had said. “...But you were watching us?”

“It’s not like that!” You turned to Lydia. “She asked me to come with her to support her in thanking you.” 

Lydia’s eyes sheepishly flickered between you and Phainon. “It’s true, Sir Phainon. I didn’t think I could go by myself.”

Phainon had his arms crossed as he studied you—looking at you but directing his question at Lydia. “Didn’t you go by yourself anyways because she was supporting you from here?” 

Lydia spoke up with no hesitation. “But I knew she was there, so I felt more confident!” 

“Hah,” Phainon laughed into his hand and scratched his cheek with furrowed eyebrows. “I’m not some scary monster… I’m human just like everyone else. You guys don’t have to be scared of approaching me…”

Feeling guilty for your behavior lately, you said sadly, “...We know.” 

For Lydia, she was nervous because Phainon was her hero, and to meet your hero was a nerve-wracking experience. 

For you, you didn’t think that Phainon had noticed you, but maybe you were wrong. 

There was an awkward silence lingering in the air as nothing else was said. 

Lydia suddenly perked up. “Ah, I forgot the archbishop asked me to help with preparations for the upcoming banquet. I’ll be going now. I hope you enjoy the cookies, Sir Phainon. I worked hard in making sure they were of good quality.” She said goodbye to you as well before heading back inside the temple. 

As you and Phainon watched her leave, you thought you should leave too. You needed to head back to the clinic and relieve Zayne of his duties, so he could also take a break. “I should go too. Zayne must be exhausted in the clinic.” 

Phainon couldn’t let this opportunity pass when you were there with him. He needed to know why you’ve been avoiding him, and who knows when the next time he could see you again. “Can I speak with you for a moment before you go?” 

Surprised by his words, you looked at him and nodded—wondering what he wanted to say. 

With a frown, he confronted you. “I noticed you’ve been purposely avoiding me. Have I done something wrong?” 

Crap, he had noticed your little avoidance act, and who gave him the right to look like such a cute puppy? Was he that saddened by you not acknowledging him? If you felt bad before, now you just feel like the worst. 

Lying through your teeth, you said, “It’s not like I’m avoiding you on purpose…and you didn’t do anything wrong!” Nervously, you continued, “I just think I shouldn’t involve myself with you…” Wait, that sounded so bad. You frantically tried to reassure him, “Oh, that came out wrong! I mean I’m nobody special, and you have better people to associate with.” 

“You think you’re unimportant?” Phainon was surprised at the way you were downplaying yourself. You really thought you were nobody special? He knew other people, including him, thought the opposite. “I’ve asked the people here about you, and they all believe you do great work.” 

You don’t doubt that for a second, but he was not helping you. “Yeah, but if I do great work, you probably do outstanding work.” 

Phainon chuckled, “Doesn’t mean you can’t be around me.” Ah, so that was why you’ve been acting like he didn’t exist. You were worried about not being good enough to talk to him. He needed to make sure you knew that you were on equal footing as him. “Let’s not compare our achievements. Also, our roles here should not matter. The only thing that matters is how we act around one another.” His hand found a place on his neck—rubbing it nervously. “I thought you were avoiding me because I did something wrong, but to hear that it wasn’t the case makes me glad.”

He had a point, and you were running out of things to say. You couldn’t admit the real reason why you had been trying to steer clear of his path. And well, you couldn’t even really do that anymore because of what you had discussed with Cyrene. 

“Fine, you’re right,” you conceded. “I’m sorry for making it seem like I was purposely ignoring you. You won’t have to feel like that again.” Not by your choice. Remember, bare minimum only! “If I see you, I’ll make sure to say hi to you.” 

Satisfied with your answer, Phainon genuinely smiled at you with bright eyes and said eagerly, “I’ll see you around, Priestess.” 

Your heart quickened at the sight of him looking at you like that and sounding like he actually looked forward to seeing you in the future. 

All you could think of was that you were screwed as you saw the number above his head increase by one more—3% into 4%.

[magebastard]

the stench of the sea, the absence of green

wc: 1319

ship: (shadow dragon) loua ‘rook’ mercar x lucanis dellamorte

rating: t (blood, injury ment.)

notes: datv spoilers! happens after the act I choice™️ neve and ashur and tarquin tell loua to leave and she does but she stays in minrathous running around and helping/putting out fires/killing venatori where she can for as long as she can in the aftermath. she’s gone for a while

She does not return for three days.

They’re trying not to panic. Lace walks the length of the Lighthouse courtyard, muttering to herself when she isn’t pouring over her correspondence. Bellara lists between her own quarters and Neve’s, aimless and afraid. Davrin tends to Assan and does his best to keep a cool head. He didn’t sign up for this—the melodrama. Saving the world? Yes. The charged aftermath of this teams’ leader suddenly vanishing, with no word, after a blighted dragon felled the metropolitan capital of one of Thedas’ oldest empires? A resounding no. He contemplates leaving on the second day but the thought of absconding any duty at all roots him to the floating Guesthouse.

Lucanis waits. He doesn’t try at pretense. He wakes up, walks to the eluvian and stares for a while. He cooks breakfast, he exercises, he walks back to the eluvian. Rinse, repeat. Spite roils in his mind, commanding him to join Rook in Minrathous.

“I would be in her way.”

But you would know. She would be safe.

“It’s Rook. Of course she’s safe. She can care for herself. And Neve is there if there is danger.”

Bad blood. Would she be there?

“We’re in this together. They would not abandon each other. The other Shadows are still in the city as well. They know Minrathous. I cannot offer much beyond grunt work and that must come later.”

So he tells himself. Truthfully, the guilt gnaws at him. It keeps him in stasis. Treviso needed her—them. Pulling her away from her home was not a call he’d made lightly. Presumably like her, he assumed Minrathous had defenses that would stand up to the might of a dragon. Mages who would fight, the dwarven constructs in the city’s employ, the Soporati soldiers still residing within the capital, the Shadow Dragons themselves. Lucanis had only caught a glimpse of the damage thus far and it was enough to prove his assumptions horribly wrong. The gods had power enough to doom even the most fortifiable lands. They intended to doom and destroy their homes.

Maker, but I am glad they did not take mine.

But Neve’s…

Loua’s…

Even as he holds tight to the memory of her words, for reassurance, for hope, he flinches as he recalls her face when they crossed into the city. That quiet gasp she tried to swallow so the team wouldn’t see her sweat. Her first instinct was to hide. Lucanis files that errant thought away to pry apart later.

It’s the still-daylight hour that constitutes as the middle of the night in the Fade. Everyone has gone off to force themselves to rest. He is returning to the library building and back down into the eluvian chamber with fresh coffee.

Different. The air is thicker, kinder, crackling with her lightning.

Lucanis pauses.

She is back.

His footfalls echo far too loudly for a crows’ as he rushes forward.

“Is she hurt? What can you see? Does she-“

Abruptly, he stops at the landing. Only just managing to keep his coffee from jostling over the lip of his mug. Loua sits, slumped low on the stairs. Her curly hair is burnt, matted with blood and tied into a loose tail. Even from this distance he can see where she is streaked with gore and grime. She’s wholly propped against the wall. He can see the weight of her weariness in the long, downward slopes of her shoulders.

“You came back,” he says, deliberately ignoring the relief and the ache. She starts at the sound of his voice. He hadn’t approached quietly. A tell of exhaustion and nerves.

“You should rest,” he says. What a ridiculous thing for him to say.

“I am,” she huffs. Lucanis frowns. Her voice is raw, scratched. More than apparent with her naturally low timbre.

“Right. So am I.” He descends slowly to meet her, standing level to where she sits. Her eyes are closed. If not for the furrowed brow and the trembling, Lucanis could believe her asleep already. He—so selfishly—wishes she’d look at him for just a moment.

“Is that coffee?” Loua reaches a weak hand, caked with dried, brown blood and soot. She’s covered. She’s a mess. She’s home. He sighs, mostly at himself.

“Are you hurt?” He gently folds the warm mug into her cold hand.

“Nothing I can’t heal once I have the energy. Rib fractures, bruised tailbone, sprained ankle.” She notably does not mention the swath of bruises painted over her skin beneath the filth. Has she counted them all? Does she even know they’re there?

Lucanis sits a few steps below her. “I’ll help you get to your room. I’d recommend a bath first, but I think you’d fall asleep and drown.”

“What a way to go.”

He frowns again.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“You cannot even see how I’m looking at you.”

“You pout very loudly.”

“I am not pouting.”

Loua’s face softens, an inch of a smile on her lips. He’ll sit with her all night if she lets him.

“I’ll sleep. Then, heal. Then bathe. Then heal more, I suppose,” her voice is barely a rasp in the quiet. There is—always, always—something so fragile hanging between them. He wants to hold still, keeping it carefully in his grasp. He wants to break it.

On their best days, Spite oscillates between cruel amusement and frustrated yowling at the immutable longing that seizes him when she’s near. Now, with the gravity of her sorrow pulling her heavily down to him, the spirit sits in its closest semblance to reverent silence.

She sighs. Wheezes, more accurately. Lucanis nudges her shin with a soft rap of his knuckles. “Let me help you to bed, Rook.”

The furrow between her brows deepens. Her chin wobbles, and some hidden tender thing in his heart breaks. “Loua-“

“It’s all gone,” she sobs. Her free hand comes up to cover her face as if she cannot bear for him to see her. He is lost.

They sit that way. Him, adrift and unknowing, her weeping and ruined. Despite the bottomless well of her resilience, he is not surprised—everyone has a breaking point. Lucanis was built to find and exploit such a thing. Wait for a slip, wait for a vulnerable underbelly, strike, quip, escape. It’s a terrible routine. He’s relied on it for most of his life, and now all at once, he abhors it. If only for the way he knows she will fold in half before she does it—forcing him to know the sight of it twice.

Lucanis takes the mug from her with slow, gentle hands. She makes a fist in its absence and he understands the sentiment well.

There isn’t a platitude worthy of soothing her grief. They remain silent apart from her wretched sobbing for a long while. He feels nauseous and useless for the whole ordeal. Not familiar enough to offer a comforting touch, not verbose enough to encourage her with words. What can I do? And vaya, what a constant thought to him now.

Unbidden he feels grateful that he is there to receive this fragment of her pain. That she is not holding it all on her own. That he can share in any part of her at all.

Lucanis does not reach out to her as he might wish to. But he stays, he doesn’t consider leaving. It humbles him. It hurts. He cannot fathom her loss and he cannot fathom what she needs him to be. They flounder here, together. Eventually, the tide recedes and Loua swallows the anguish back down into her chest. She takes a breath. She unfurls into an upright though weary posture. She lifts a shaking hand and he passes the coffee back to her. It’s gone cold by now. She takes a long sip anyway. She passes it back; an invitation.

They take turns, sharing the cup.

And—yes. This, he can do.

[living-dead-guyy]

I wanted to add more to this, but had to stop myself and remind myself to chill tf out it doesn’t need to be perfect 😭

The writing says “For the Glory of Merlin, Daylight is Mine to Command”, which is the incantation used to summon the magical armour he wears

[maggieslvr]

Its giving "For the glory of Merlin, daylight is mine to command"

But instead of a amulet, its his (Or Brooklynn's) phone

[mybrainvoid]

Sometimes I’m bored so I just stand and yell

“For the glory of Merlin daylight is mine to command !!!”

And then I feel like myself again

[brandwhorestarscream]

Hello! I just found your stuff and I love your ideas and writing so much! Your tf1 are my favorite, specifically your D-16 stuff (he's my babygirl~).

May I request some headcanons with Terminus in Tf1? It'd be so interesting to have him as D16's mentor/pseudo father! There is no content of this idea and it makes me SO sad. I mean, can you imagen how things would go if D16 had this transformer, this one supervisor, views him as a actual equal. Maybe teaching him things, like how the cogless have little to no access to knowledge.

In my mind Terminus was a transformer miner from the Primes time, he's pretty iffy about this new 'Prime' who just appeared after the others deaths. Miners existed before only not many in numbers for Sentinel to mine the energone AND the needed minerals and metals the miners pre-war were used to dug.

I'm rambling, the short story: Terminus = cool, he would be great for D16 to have as a dad. If you agree, I would to read something from you about this duo.

Omigosh hi! Hello :> nice to see you, welcome in

When I tell you I have THOUGHTS about this!! If you like the TF1 Dew stuff and you like Terminus, I have an AU for both! Specifically some cybermorph stuff (think xenomorph-cybertronian hybrids), where Terminus is Dee's sire! And if we're not talking specifically TF1, well, I pretty much always cast Terminus as Megatron softspoken old teddy bear of a dad

I'm really bad at like, giving concrete headcanons but I can ramble a bit if you want? First of all, Terminus is a great listener. Whenever Dee needs to vent or rant (usually about Orion's shenanigans but not always), Terminus is more than happy to lend an ear. He'll sit down, fold his hands in his lap, and watch with warm eyes and an understanding expression while Dee paces back and forth. He gives great advice and is very comforting; he has the warmest most secure hugs. They could make anyone just melt.

Dee also seeks him out when he can't sleep. Somehow, Terminus always seems to be up when he is, and chatting with the kind old mech puts him at ease. His aura is always so uniquely calming, like being wrapped up in a weighted blanket. Best of all are his stories about the Primes: he'd not known them personally, but he'd been blessed enough to witness them before. At temple ceremonies and at religious festivals, he'd seen the gods' grace and magic with his own two optics. He tells about how Solus Prime split the land with her forge and carved out energon rivers, how crystal flora had sprung up in the footprints of Quintus. How the moons had risen during daylight at Micronus's command, and how they had always been kind and humble despite their divine capabilities. Dee adores his stories, those about Megatronus most of all, and finds he can always sleep much easier after an anecdote from Terminus 💖

Aside from that, since he was born on the surface, Terminus has a cog. He's very protective of the tiny miners under his jurisdiction, and won't hesitate to chase Darkwing or any other huffy overseers away. These baby bots are so young, they're so small, and they're stuck toiling in an exhausting, dangerous job that claims several lives every cycle. He can't get them all out of here, but he can make life as bearable as possible. He's probably the one that brought them that game machine, and he advocates heavily for an on-site medical team and better sleeping conditions. Don't get me wrong, he's still rather low caste in the grand hierarchy of Iacon, but he still does what he can for all the little cogless. They all love him in return, he's their big protective papa bear 💖

[ka0ila]

|Pass Out

pairing - lee minho x fem!reader

summary- you pass out after over exerting yourself

warning - angst;fluff, slight-eating disorder

You were working on the same choreography for about 3 hours now. You just couldn't get it right. You were physically exhausted and decided to rest. The moment you sat down, Minho entered the practice room. "Are you able to do it? it's been three hours" You nodded while trying to catch your breath, "the start and ending yes, but i just can't exerpertise the middle part. i'm trying." you said out of breath. He nodded, he looked a bit.. disappointed? you shrugged it off. "after 5 min, i'll watch you do it." he said in a stern tone which sent shivers down your spine. You hesitantly nodded. After 5 minutes, you got up. For some reason, you felt really nervous. Ah, it's just Minho, He'll help me out. You began and You could sense him staring at You. You were a bit scared of him scolding you, you were already tired and didn't feel like getting scolded.

“do that step again” he commanded sternly.

you nodded catching your breath. honestly, you were really embarrassed, it was Minho after all he wouldn’t judge you but.. He was just so perfect. you couldn’t seem to get that one specific step right, you were frustrated, so was he.

“why can’t you just do it right (y/n)” he said a little annoyed. Now, you were really frustrated because you just couldn’t seem to get it right and didn’t need anyone to tell you that aswell,

“im fucking trying Minho” you snapped. “Are you? if you did you would’ve got it right” and that made you teary. you were really trying. He just scoffed. You were about to leave the room but you suddenly started loosing conscious, everything started blacking out, you couldn’t see anything. oh, fuck.

baby?

I woke up in the hospital. I felt someone sleeping on my hand, it was Minho. Oh, i passed out. He started to wake up, for some reason, i just closed my eyes. i was embarrassed to be weak and pass out after not working hard enough and not being able to learn a fucking dance step. he looked at my face and huffed, and started caressing my forehead, i melted.

it was so comforting i felt like crying,

it made me feel safe, really safe.

he then kissed my forehead whispering a sorry, but it wasn’t his fault?

i heard him leave the room and Hyunjin walked in.

He sat beside me looking at me with sad eyes, am i alright? i only passed out right?

did they find out something?

i squirmed a little and began to open my eyes,

“(y/n)?” hyunjin called out my name as he hugged me. i gave him a soft smile as i saw him loosen up and relax a little. Minho walked in.

“i’m sorry Minho, i passed out and i couldn’t even lea-” he cut me off by hugging me tightly and attached his lips to mine.

“i was so.. so fucking worried about you”

“i only passed out what happened?” i asked them confused. they sighed looking at each other.

“have you been skipping meals?”

“i-” i failed to respond and tears started rolling down my face. i didn’t want things to be like this, i didnt want them to know, its only a phase i wouldve gotten over it.

“no” i lied. “youre in no position to lie to us” Seungmin scoled me. “i’m sorry” and for some reason i started sobbing. they all comforted me, i felt bad, everyone was tired but i gave them one more reason to be tired of.

“you know i love you right?”

“im sorry i shouldn’t have pushed you so much” minho apologised nuzzling into my neck cuddling me.

“it’s not your fault don’t blame yourself for it, i shouldve taken better care of myself, please dont ever stop yourself from pushing me forward or scolding me” i assured him.

“are you sure?”

“very.”

“i love you.”

“i love you more than you could ever imagine.”

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im sorry this one’s kinda short :>

tell me if you like it!

i like writing angst so you’ll be getting alot more angst hehe, my exams are in 2 days im really stressed i don’t have it all covered, but anyways.

Stream S-Class!!!

[lottiesnotebook]

Hello!!! Happy Friday <3 I narrowed my Favourite Poems down to 2 (tentatively), and I thought this one made for a more interesting prompt so!! From The Old Astronomer To His Pupil, Sarah Williams: “What, my boy, you are not weeping? You should save your eyes for sight;You will need them, mine observer, yet for many another night.”

These were both delightful prompts, and I hope I did them both justice with this little Awakening era ficlet...

Anders/Luna Tabris, pre-relationship, distrust, canon-typical mage trauma, complicated relationships, Awakening era

@miladydewintcr | @kirblord @dadrunkwriting

guide me on my way amongst the stars

Technically, Anders has his own room in Vigil’s Keep, for the first time since he can remember. Solitary confinement excluded, of course, for all that he’d joke, weakly, that it was a good break from the overcrowded dormitories. It’s even a good room, as far as the options in the half-ruined castle go — the roof hardly leaks, the shutters are still solid, and his glorious commander has scrounged up a cot and a chest for his meagre belongings from somewhere in the depths of the castle. Or possibly from some other poor bastard who manned the castle before she arrived — he never exactly got the chance to go exploring until the darkspawn showed up to take his gaolers off his hands.

So, he does have a room, with a cot, and a chest, and a lock on his door with no peephole through which a guard could peek through on him. It’s not a cell, not really, it’s just- a little closer than he’d prefer. It does, however, boast one distinct advantage: the window is wide enough to climb out of, and beyond it is the broad, flat stretch of the kitchen roofs. This far north, the nights are mild and warm compared to the chill winds off Lake Calenhad, and most nights, he can unroll a sleeping mat and gaze up at the infinite, empty sky, without the crushing weight of stone. He can remember, even in the midsts of nightmare, that he got out. Even if sometimes, he can’t quite believe it, even in daylight.

It’s his hideaway, the secret space where he knows he’s slipped through the bars of his cage, where if he wanted to, he could scramble down the woodpile, break for the gate, or one of the gaps in the walls, and run and run and run until he ran out of ground beneath his feet, until he ran out of world to run into. He could run now, until his lungs burned, until the world went white around him, until it felt like his feet barely touched the ground. He hasn’t traded one cage for another. He hasn’t. And yet-

“Good night for stargazing?”

He nearly jumps out of his skin at the Warden-Commander’s low, quiet voice. He forgets, when she’s in his line of sight, that she can move as quietly as a cat. She has too much presence to ignore, if she can be seen. It’s baffling that someone like her can make herself so unnoticable, but perhaps it’s a skill Anders could learn from.

If she hadn’t noticed him, after all, he wouldn’t have some uncomfortable explaining to do now: “I’m sorry, I wasn’t- I was just-”

“It’s alright,” she says, and settles, cross-legged, beside him. “I’m not a Templar, Anders, or anyone’s gaoler.”

She says it so lightly, so airily, that it crushes his windpipe with the sudden, awful desire to believe her. He wants, so terribly, to believe her, because she’s nothing like any Templar he’s ever met- and that’s what makes her so dangerous, because he’s known enough prisons to know that the worst guards are the ones who can convince you you’re not in prison at all. Once, he might have been taken in by the soft, bruised sorrow in her eyes, by her silvery hair and slight, delicate frame, but he’s met far too many pretty girls who’d happily sold him back to the templarrs when his presence became inconvenient to them, and besides, nobody as soft as she looks gets the title of ‘Commander’. Nobody as soft as she looks kills an archdemon and lives to tell the tale.

He forces a smile at her anyway, because it doesn’t do to let the guards know you know what they are. He is no longer the fool he was when he was younger. “So you keep telling me, ser.”

“I’ll keep saying it until you believe it. Or until you leave, I guess, at which point I won’t be able to tell you anything.” She reclines, looking up at the stars rather than him, resting on her elbows as if his presence is secondary to her purpose, though he knows it cannot be. There are hundreds of places in the Keep, he is sure, where she could watch the stars alone.

“You don’t trust me to stick around? You wound me, Commander.”

She makes a face at that, as she always does when he holds up her title between them like a shield. “You can call me Luna, you know. It’s not like there’s anyone but me to scold you about protocol, and I’m not exactly a shining example of it.”

“I don’t know, you seemed pretty shiny when you were telling those Templars to — how did you phrase that again? — get the fuck out of your arling. Might have been the armour, or the aura of divine favour, or the fact that those bastards listened to you, but I definitely remember a certain quality of… shininess.”

She’d been almost luminous, in that moment, the diminutive girl in her silvered armour talking back to the hands of a cruel maker. The shine had faded, somewhat, when she’d made him drink from the Joining Chalice before the Templars had left, when he’d realised her protection came with its own chains.

Now, she laughs, though, and he can relax, just a little. He’s still charmed her. He’s still safe, at least for now.

“Nice to know I can still put on a good show, I guess,” she retorts, and then, that terrible softness creeping back in at the edges of her voice: “I can leave you to it, if you like. But I don’t sleep much either, any more, and I thought you might want company.”

He can see the bruise-blue circles beneath her eyes, the pallor of her skin, and he believes, despite himself, that she cannot sleep. He believes, despite himself, that she came here, not to spy on him, but to keep him company. He does not want these beliefs, which creep insidiously into the corners of his mind. easier to stay wary, to stay mistrustful. It will hurt less, when she betrays him, if he never trusted her at all.

“You don’t need to worry about me, Commander,” he says, trying to sound flippant, but accidentally matching her softness instead. “Isn’t your job to keep your eye on the darkspawn.”

“Maybe,” she agrees, “but I can’t do it alone. I need your eyes, too, if you’ll lend me them.”

And if I won’t? he wants to ask, and doesn’t. He does not want to find out where her kindness ends. Like the ground itself every time he’s run away, it will never last quite long enough to save him.

“You had them,” he says, instead, unable to hide every hint of bitterness, “the moment I drank from your cursed Chalice.”

“Ugly thing, isn’t it?” she agrees, as if that was his objection. “I hate it, what they’ve made of us. What they’ve made of you.”

“Then why recruit me at all?” Why make me exchange one cage for another?

She looks at him, sidelong, lips curved into a crooked smile that holds more sadness than mirth, and it is hard, when she looks at him like that, to recall that she is the Warden-Commander and not a fellow apprentice snuck out for secrets or sex beneath a sky full of stars. Or rather, it’s too easy to remember that beneath her titles, her armour, she’s a woman of his own age, and a pretty one at that.

“You reminded me of someone I knew once,” she says, simply, “and I have a weakness for caged birds I think I can free, even if they leave me with scars once I let them out.”

“You think I’m likely to scar you?”

“I think you could, if you tried.”

He does not try yet, not tonight. He only covers her hand with his own, and watches the stars, and if he is lonely, still, he is lonely with her.

[starplusfourletters]

I read specter of the past (hand of thrawn book 1)

This turned into a liveblog srry

Me, reading the Thrawn trilogy: Okay obvi Mara/Luke is a slow burn

Me, skipping to the duology set 10 years later: GUYS YOU’RE LOSING DAYLIGHT

Oh no they have a passive aggressive “may the Force be with you” / “good luck” thing oh no I might ship it

Also the small existential crisis that ensues every time I remember Luke is (checks Wookieepedia) THIRTY-EIGHT YEARS OLD. I cannot picture Luke Skywalker a day over 22 I think my brain would explode [actively represses the sequel trilogy]

This book is absolutely crawling with badass female smugglers and I’m living for it

Oooh proto-convor! [two pages later] OH NO PROTO-CONVOR DEATH ☹

Mara Jade, Force sensitive specializing in precognition, former Emperor’s Hand, second-in-command of the most powerful information dealing organization in the galaxy: Runs into a wall and spends the rest of the book knocked out

Lando “Could I Please Get Back to My Day Job It Has Been Two Decades” Calrissian. Just let the man mine in unlikely places it’s all he’s ever wanted

I got way too happy about the implication that the Imperial whose name I've forgotten figured out the tractor beam thing. He solved Science! Good for he!

Loving how everyone’s opinion on Karrde is basically “nice guy; sus that he insists on getting paid, though.” Like yes this is still a capitalist economy and he runs a business with a large number of employees

We interrupt your space fantasy to bring you a “Chicken Fried” music video with clone sleeper agents

Okay everybody place your bets is Car’das a secret brother, secret father, or ex-boyfriend (hype for some Karrde backstory and realizing the extent to which my brain has decided he and Kaz Brekker are the same person is Extensive)

Legit starting to feel sorry for Gilead “Sad Fascist Grandpa” Pellaeon. Somebody give this guy a peace treaty and a hug. Also more and more irked about No Prisoners why did that need a retcon

Really enjoyed the book’s interrogation of the premise “how do we actually make a galactic organization that includes cultures with mutually exclusive legal and ethical codes WITHOUT being fascist.” Felt very Trek. Actually went further toward radical inclusivity than Trek usually does; the Federation does have an element of “you must be this close to 20th-21st century American values to ride” which is its own kind of cultural imperialism and in this essay I will -

I simply cannot get enough of these books’ “protagonist stumbles, Kramer-like, into the Site of Maximal Galactic Importance Du Jour.” I will let you know when it stops being funny to me. Also really like how the villains are starting to learn to use it to their advantage; like yeah it DOES look like a conspiracy when you think about it