#fic : Breaking Bonds

[teecupangel]

So I had this idea of Connor meeting adéwale who gets a sense of deja vu but can’t pinpoint from whereand the two of them teaming up to find the son of adewale’s friend and Connor’s father both not realizing that they are looking for the same person until they have a run in with haytham and adewale having a lot of things of Connor suddenly make sense with the reveal

So this would be a bit hard considering Shay killed Adéwalé while Ratonhnhaké:ton was just a kid but we can fudge it a bit. They did talk a bit after Shay struck him down so we can make this a case of “he almost died but he didn’t”.

Let’s say one of Adéwalé’s crewmembers survived and found him, dragging him out of danger and helping him survive.

During that time, Adéwalé dreams of Edward Kenway, of the past they shared, the letters they sent to one another…

When he wakes up, months have passed and he was still too weak that he could barely walk.

He had been transported to Port-au-Prince and being taken care of by his son, Babatunde Josèphe. His son tells him to rest and that they’re trying to get in contact with the Colonial Assassins but with no luck. Messengers either return empty handed, talking about the danger and the heightened Templar presence, or they do not return at all.

The Templars had the colonies under their control and it was becoming too dangerous to try and infiltrate the colonies while Shay Cormac, the Assassin Hunter, is on the hunt.

Adéwalé can’t do anything but try to heal his weak body, his mind dwelling deeper and deeper into the darkness the more news they hear about what had happened to the Assassins in the colonies.

The Assassins Adéwalé knew.

By the time he was strong enough, the damage had been done and the Brotherhood were too busy in France and Britain. Their letters asking Achilles if he needed help only being met with silence.

But Adéwalé knew he needed to go back there.

No.

He needed to see Haytham Kenway.

And kill him.

Even if it was the last thing he did.

Haytham Kenway had destroyed what the Kenway stand for, what Edward had worked so hard to create.

As Edward’s friend…

As his only remaining friend…

It was Adéwalé’s duty to destroy the last remaining Kenway before more damage could be done.

His son tells him he was projecting his guilt and anger to someone else.

His grandson did not understand why he was leaving.

Adéwalé was part of the past and he was dragging Haytham Kenway with him if it was the last thing he would do.

So he returns to the colonies and meets up with Achilles.

That’s when he meets up with the young man learning under Achilles.

Ratonhnhaké:ton.

There was something about him that reminded Adéwalé of Edward Kenway…

So he took Ratonhnhaké:ton under his wings as well and Achilles didn’t say anything. Ratonhnhaké:ton never told Adéwalé about his father by name because Achilles had told him months before Adéwalé had returned that he should keep it a secret.

Being known as Haytham Kenway’s son would only put him in danger.

So Ratonhnhaké:ton kept quiet.

And they formed a bond with Adéwalé assisting him.

Where Achilles pushed for caution, Adéwalé supported any way he can.

Ratonhnhaké:ton was free, like Edward. It would only serve to push him away if they try to chain him down.

The best way to support Ratonhnhaké:ton was to help him.

And then…

That faithful winter day…

In an abandoned church…

Ratonhnhaké:ton and Adéwalé come face to face with the man they were both searching for.

[bts-0t-7]

Breaking Bonds | PJM | Chapter 3

Pair: Fae Jimin x Nymph reader 

Summary: Stripped from your own birthright, you suffer at the hands of your people. But after all, you couldn’t blame them. Having enough, you left in the middle of the snowy days but things didn’t go as you planned. Jimin, pulled by an unspeakable force, ventures out into the blizzard to find a body face-first on the ground. Your love and connection is forbidden - looked down upon. But the both of you are willing to try. However, where there are dreams there are prices to pay. How will the both of you push through? Can the both of you do it?

Genre: Strangers to lovers, fantasy au, Jimin is the CROWN PRINCE (I mean-), angst, kidnapping, smut

WC: 3601

As the news of Jimin and your bond spread through his kingdom like wildfire, there was a clear separation between the young and the old. The old refuse to change the Old Ways, stating that faes and nymphs should forever be a forbidden bond. Nymphs have betrayed them since the times even before the war and should never be forgiven for their crimes. 

On the other hand, the young wish for a change - a change between the two mystical beings, to bring balance back to their continent. Nymphs should be given a second chance, a viewpoint much different from the Old Ways. 

However, the King and council is the one to make the last decision. And currently, both did not agree. The king was furious - that his son would choose one much below him. 

“You - You - A choice of any other nymph - figuratively speaking - yet you choose the Princess of the nymph kingdom! The princess that had her title stripped from her and her kingdom uses her!” King Park yelled at Jimin from across the room. The table was long and council members sat around the King and the Prince. 

Everyone’s heads were bowed at the anger that radiated off the king. Red in the face, his hands moved widely across the tables and the air. The council members did not dare to watch the scene in front of them. But Jimin wasn’t afraid. He knew what would happen if he went against his father but -

“It was an unnecessary action when you stripped the nymphs of their royal titles. Their people were having a hard time, their people were struggling!” Jimin pointed out. “Their only hope was placed in their royalties to lead them back up to a normal life but you flippantly marched in and took away every single ounce of hope they had. You beheaded the king,” Jimin couldn’t hold his anger in anymore. “Right in front of the citizens.”

“He begged you - Begged you!” 

“You do not know what went down, boy.” One of the council members brought up.

“I do not know? I do not know?” Jimin swirled over to the member, hands fisted by his side. He would only make things worse if he acted out with violence. “I was there when you all decided to bring up this ridiculous plan. I was there when you,” Jimin pointed to his father. “When the King begged you to take him instead of his people. To spare his people!”

“His mate is dead, his children are dead, and his only surviving daughter is used by her own people because they had their hope and life stripped away when you marched in.”

“It was necessary! It was a precaution that we needed to take or they would come back to take all the lands back.”

“It wasn’t ours to begin with!”

The murmurs of the council hushed instantly when Jimin shouted. 

But it was true. Those invaded lands did not belong to the kingdom of Lyrin. Their territory belonged to the kingdom of Petra, the nymphs. Petra, the name explains itself - unshakable and resilient. The nymphs are small beings and for them to have fought so far with faes that are much bigger and stronger in size and strength, is a miracle itself. 

“Those lands were never ours. Not even in the earliest books of history or even in folklore that we tell kids during bedtime stories. They were not some forgotten land that you claim to be ours. They never belonged to us.” Jimin pointed to one of the areas on the map. “Don’t you see? They are withering - dying. Because they do not hold the same type of magic we do. We cannot care for them the way the nymphs do. And for so long, you have stripped them of their respective bonds just because you want more land.”

“What did you even do with them anyway?” Jimin spread his hands out. “They are all untouchable because we cannot cross.”

“Do you not see what you are doing? Has power made you blind, father?”

The king swung his hand out and everybody ducked from the spear of power that shot out. 

“You will not question me, Prince.” 

“I will do as I wish.” Jimin stood his ground. The council room was silent as they watched their king and prince go through a territorial battle. The stiff air and rising temperature said enough of the fight. Every councillor was sweating in their seats. Until Jimin walked out of the room, hands behind his back and head held up high with his robes swishing behind him as he left the door open. 

A clear indication that the fight is not over. 

Leaving the frightened councillors with a furious king who bellowed in anger.

But what Jimin did not know was that that was exactly part of the councillor’s plans. Without the knowledge of others, the older members had drawn out a plan, indicating when and where would be the best place and time to separate the bond. 

Jimin knew that the court’s disdain for their connection was palpable - that the older councillors do not and will probably never approve of Y/N. The tension had reached a level that even his father’s power was at stake. Half refusing to de-throne him and the other half not executing you. But Jimin felt relieved.

He had stated what he thought - stated what he felt was right. 

It was a first. 

But he was not executed. Yet. 

The moment that Jimin stepped into the main door of his quarters, he felt something was not right. He noted that no guards were patrolling and the surrounding was much too quiet. Shoeprints and trails of dragging were across the sand as Jimin trotted through the grounds. 

Something was wrong. He knew it. 

Coming down from his horse, Jimin hurriedly ran up the steps to the bedroom, opening all other rooms in the process. With each step he takes, he feels his heart clenching even more. Calling your name out frantically, he searched around for you. 

Reaching the top, Jimin didn’t take the time to catch his breath before pistoning to the doors - only to find them open, lock battered, and a blood-stained floor. Jimin’s nose sniffed around, registering that it was not yours. For a moment, he felt the weight lift off his shoulder that you were alive until he opened the doors and his heart dropped. 

The bedside table was overturned, sheets pulled off the edges and quilt on the floor. The rug was folded at its corners and when he touched the bed frames, he could feel the indents of your fingernails. Your fear was palpable in the air, penetrating every single one of his logical senses. He spotted icicles and snow bombs as if he had tried to fight back. But you were still recovering and your powers were on a low scale. Even he hasn’t seen them often. 

A groan coming from the balcony caught his attention as he called forth his power and ripped open the curtains that were swaying in the wind. Just as he was about to burn the man from his inside out, a painful “Your Highness” broke him out of it. Slowly registering that it was one of the guards who had taken care of him since young, he brought his hands down. 

Crouching down to the man’s level, Jimin lifted him by the shoulder. The man groaned in pain as Jimin shifted him over to the couches of the room. Blood leaked through but he could always replace them later on. 

“Don’t worry ‘bout me, boy.” The guard groaned out. “Go save your mate. I have already seen the best.” Jimin crouched back down. “Go, boy. This old soul is happy to see you happy.” Bowing, the guard continued. “They brought her to an unmarked area a little past the borders of Lyrin based on the Southeast. That’s all I heard.”

Jimin nodded and bowed to him. 

Taking off, Jimin ran back down the steps, guiding his horse into a gallop and then a full sprint. He had to get you. He had to. 

Curse the council. Curse his father. None of it was worth it if you weren’t there. 

He hoped that he could reach in time. 

He needs to reach in time. 

He led his horse in the direction, sweat dripping down his neck and back, soaking his tunic but Jimin did not dare stop. He feared that if he stopped for even a second, you might be gone. 

“Prince!”

Jimin ignored the call. He had to get to you fast and that was his purpose. His reason. He would not fail you again. 

“Prince!”

He saw a black-haired mare run alongside his, rider steady on top of his saddle. 

“Prince! You can’t go in there alone!”

Jimin turned and growled at his knight. “Try me.” Urging his horse faster but his knight kept steady behind him. 

“Prince! Please! Think about it! It is irrational to go in without a plan - no exact location, no communications, nothing!”

“She is my mate - prince or not. You will not question how I will do.”

“Then allow us to offer ourselves.” 

Jimin faltered. 

“It is dangerous to go in there alone. Let us go with you, Prince.”

“You are disobeying your King and saving a nymph in the laws is treason.”

Jimin stopped his horse to run an eye over the group that had formed. He did not even realise how many people had followed behind him. Eternally grateful but Jimin knew the consequences ahead of them if they were to join him any further. 

“Prince, we believe that it is time for a change. Time for the Old Ways to make way for the new and give back to nature what was never ours. We hope for peace between the kingdoms and a world where we no longer have to worry about being sent off to the woods to collect the dead bodies of the innocent. War is inevitable. But this one is.”

One by one, the people bowed. 

“We pledge our loyalty to our Crown Prince, for we believe the right road is in the light of his eyes and the love of his heart.” The people rose and an elder, a nymph - Jimin realised - came forward. 

“No more hiding for us. We put our faith in you, Prince. It is time for a change.”

“Time for a change, time for a change.” The people chanted. 

If they were to rebel, his father would have them murdered. Jimin looked towards the darkness that was spreading through the forest. He does not have much time left if he wants to save you before even his vision fails him. But these people who have placed their heads on the boards just to follow him - to pledge their loyalty to him - 

“No, you will not rebel. My father would have you all killed if you did.” Jimin mounted his horse. “For now, I have someone I care for who needs me. Those who wish to follow shall do so. The elders, children, and those who do not wish to witness the violence, mount your horses and return to the capital. I will ensure - even if it is to my death - that the Act will pass.”

Jimin surged, his horse riding forward. 

He now knows that the people wish for a change. Even the elders who have been through the whole war - fought in the war. Jimin could only hope that he does not bring their hopes down by being unable to fulfil is section of their deal. 

“Prince, how much farther due Southeast?”

“I am not sure. All Pletos told me was that they are Southeast, a little past the borders.”

“Well, Prince, we are almost at the borders. Would you wish to scout before we enter?

“Yes.”

Just then, the small cottage that was illuminated came into view. Squinting through the darkness, he tried to find your form, nose up as he tried to follow your scent. Only for him to see you tied up against a pole, wearing nothing but your underclothes and sleeping dress. Bruises littered your skin and Jimin fought the urge to sprint over. 

“Oh shit.”

He could see the shocked faces of the people. 

“Princess -”

“Helia no -” The knights grabbed the boy. “The girl will be fine but you cannot dash in like this.” The boy in their hold stopped fighting and Jimin looked at him. He was not much of a boy - more of a man. Slender but muscular and very familiar somehow. 

“Prince, what is our strategy?”

Jimin looked around and focused on his senses. He could hear the arguing of the council members, the flow of the river, the chirping of the crickets, and the sound of your slow breathing. “The council members are currently distracted and all the guards leave an opening of five minutes as they do their rotations. We go in then.” Jimin turned around. “Just three of us will enter, too many and we will be caught.” 

“Once we are back, we run east, there is a cave there that we can use to rest for the night. Our main goal is to get the princess and leave. Do not take anything, do anything, say anything. It will only alert the guards and the members. We want to be out of there as quickly as possible.”

Nods followed Jimin’s command and they waited for the next opening. Jimin hopes that you will be able to handle it long enough. 

Time for a change. 

Stay strong, we are here. 

Just as the opening reaches in, Jimin pulls Helia and another knight along with him, motioning them to quietly follow. As the clock started to tick, the three of them worked quickly, blades slashing at the ropes that kept you up as Jimin caught your limp body. With a nod, they ran back to the group, mounted their horses, and dashed. Jimin kept one ear towards the cottage as they ran, staying long enough to hear, “Where did the girl go? I told you to keep an eye on her and bring more guards!”

Council Member Lydea. 

She’s dead meat.

Wrapping his clock around your body, Jimin summoned some heat as he tried to warm you up. He does not know how long you have been there but -

A whine and sharp neigh caught his attention as he pulled his horse into a stop. 

“What happened?”

“His horse lost a shoe, she can continue but not at the pace we are currently going at, Your Highness.”

“That’s alright. We have made it far enough from the cottage. We will not lose anybody tonight. The cave is near, we will just walk.”

The group continued in silence as Jimin led them. Crossing the bridge, he walked behind the stone path of the waterfall. Taking a few more turns, Jimin stopped at the bottom of the stairs, dismounted his horse and walked him over to the makeshift stable. 

“It should be safe here. The horses can lie around and there are bedrolls upstairs and in a box somewhere.”

The group murmured their gratitude. 

“We got some leftover bread that we snatched from home on the way over. It should suffice for now.” A few knights looked at each other and nodded. “We will hunt in the morning.”

As Jimin set you down on his bedroll, ensuring that you were well tucked in and warm, he followed Helia up the steps to distribute the rest. 

“How did you find this place, Your Highness?”

“I liked to venture out of the castle walls too often. I came across this place and thought that it felt… peaceful. So I shoved plenty of things here over the years. I hope you find it to your liking, Prince.”

The man stopped dead in his tracks. 

“Prince, Your Highness? You flatter me too much but I have no hold on that title.”

“I do not believe that I have mistaken, Prince Helia of Petra. The people only knew that she was a nymph, not a nymph princess.”

“Word can get out fast, Your Highness.”

“For certain? Perhaps you shouldn’t say it with such a straight face as you bear the sigil of your kingdom.” Jimin saw his fingers twitch towards the band he wore around his wrist. He had his suspicions and they were only further verified when they worked together to get you off the pole. 

“Right… A pleasure to meet you, brother-in-law. I just hoped that it would have been under better circumstances.” Helia leaves him on top of the stairs. 

Jimin sighed and collected the remaining bedrolls, giving them out. 

“It’s not much but I hope they last enough for the night.”

“No worries, Prince. I think it’s best if you focus on your mate.”

Jimin nodded to the man, leaving him to talk with the rest of the others about scheduling rounds to guard the place. 

Slipping into the bedroll, Jimin huddled you close, falling asleep to your soft sighs. 

The hunt was not successful. 

The men were not able to bring much back and rations were small but no one minded. Hitting midday, everybody was well-rested enough and mounted their horses. With Jimin leading, everybody followed him as they trotted back to the city. 

“Those who directly work with my family will follow me back to the palace. The rest of you, go home to your families and get a rest. The plan starts tomorrow. I hope to see all of you in the square in two days.” 

Their ways separated before the walls of the kingdom, horses going in the directions their riders urge. Cradling your back, Jimin urges his horse at a faster pace. The guards and knights easily kept up with him. 

As soon as they entered the palace, Jimin headed over to his tower. 

“We need to act fast, holding off for a bath wouldn’t -”

“You are in your nightgown and we smell like mud, darling. I do not think my father would like it if we drip all over his precious rug.” Those mischievous eyes turned to you. “Plus, who said that bathing means relaxing? We could use the time to discuss our next best move. Or it would do well for an exercise as well.”

“No.” 

You hastily dismounted his horse as you sprinted up the stairs, playing a game of catch. And Jimin knew that. 

So he let you have your head start as he slowly walked up. Just as you closed the door and thought that it was safe, you didn’t realise that Jimin was already inside before you were. 

“Gotcha.”

You squealed as he tickled your sides, freezing up the spot you stood on. Carrying you to the bathroom, Jimin filled up the tub with warm water and bubbles. 

Morning came too soon as the days passed. 

Standing in the middle of the stage, head held high, Jimin started his speech. He wanted the people - his people - to know that not all hope of the past was lost. Connections will most certainly be hard at first and change is difficult. But if there was no change, there would be no future with the constant battles. Condemning the nymphs to their fates will only harm the land and completely throw off the balance. 

“The reign of fear is over. The reign of pain and waiting is over. We will do something, we will stop this war.” Jimin’s voice rang loud in the clearing. “Change isn’t easy, I understand. But hope and determination can drive us further and override these feelings. They are by no means irrelevant. Everything you feel is normal. But change is a necessity if we want to live. Life and survival are different. If we wish to live, we first need to ensure that we can survive.” Jimin splayed his hands out in the direction of what was once your kingdom and home. “And we cannot survive without the equal balance.”

Galloping and shouts could be heard as he spotted his father’s horse coming closer. Stomping off his horse, Jimin stood his ground as his father fumed in front of him. Not much taller than his father, Jimin felt the need to straighten his back and stand to his full height. 

“This little rebelling has gone far enough! Return!” His father signalled his guards to bring forth the terror. 

Jimin summoned a portion of his powers out, creating a barrier around the people. 

“No father. The people - our people - people have spoken. They want a change and it starts today. No more forceful taking, no more harming the innocent. We rule with loyalty, not fear.”

“You will never understand. People will only listen if they feel -”

“No. It stops today. No more. People of Lyrin,” Jimin turned to face the crowd, voice projecting loudly. “Today we stop this war. Our past, present, and future - our peace - depends on us. No more separation of families, no more hiding from one’s true self. We were one and we will be one - faes and nymphs. For peace, do you follow?”

“For peace, we follow! For peace, we follow!”

Jimin turned to you, hands raised up as he smiled towards you. Even with the setting sun shining directly at him, you were the brightest sun he had and he could gratefully bask in there for however long you allowed him to. 

He does not wish to waste a single second if he ever could. 

For peace, we follow.

[alexanderlightweight]

I don’t know what it is, but that au you just posted of all your cracks I’ll paint with gold has seized me. I’ve already had to reread it again I love it so much. Is there any way we could be seeing more of this?

it's called the bonds i'd break and sure! it's fun to sometimes see the mirror differences that make a world change from a single action.

i'm glad you're enjoying it so much

<3 lumine

-

Alec feels numb as he lets Magnus guide him to safety.

He didn’t think this would work.

Any of it.

The fact that it did… Alec’s not sure how he feels about it.

A part of him knows that he wouldn’t have survived the agony of being completely deruned, not and remained the same as he is. But Alec’s already not the same, already cracked apart and with jagged edges and oozing wounds that he’s not sure even Raziel could heal… and Raziel made the damage.

But not all of the damage.

They didn’t come.

Alec knew they wouldn’t make it. That’s why he did all of this, why he gave Jace and he a chance to be judged fairly, in hopes that maybe Jace wouldn’t experience the same pain as him.

But now that he’s had a rune stripped from his flesh – almost as painful as his soul being torn asunder and then made whole – Alec knows there would have been little left of him after losing each and every single mark on his skin.  

He can’t imagine being alone and deruned and if he’d been deruned, then that would mean he hadn’t tried blood magic. That he hadn’t summoned the Silent Brothers and that he’d been holding out and hopeful. It means all his faith would have been shattered rather than been strategically abandoned with the cold acceptance he has now.

Worse… Magnus wouldn’t have been there to save him.

Magnus is the only thing keeping him together right now and Alec doesn’t think he could survive being deruned and adrift without the only person in the world he thinks could anchor him ever again.

—

Magnus portals them straight into the shower and he uses magic to shield Alexander’s eyes. His boy doesn’t even seem to notice the change in atmosphere, temperature or element and Magnus makes a low, concerned noise as he vanishes their clothing.

This is the last way he would have ever dreamed of getting Alexander undressed and Magnus wants to burn the clave that this must be the first time he touches Alexander intimately.

With magic it’s easy to maneuver him and get Alexander clean and to bed and Magnus isn’t sure what to do, except stay close and let Alexander cling to him.

Which he does.

The moment Magnus lays down, Alexander climbs onto him and then he rolls them over, settling with a soft noise before he sighs. His eyes are still worryingly blank, and he seems unaware that they are still naked and tangled together, nor does he show any signs of the hunger that Magnus is sure he’s feeling.

Instead, Alexander settles, eyes focusing on Magnus’ own as he wraps his arms around tightly and tangles his legs with Magnus’ own.

“Don’t leave?” He asks, the first words he’s spoken since he begged to be taken away and Magnus couldn’t deny him anything, even before all of this.

“Never, Alexander. I’ll be right here.”

[dekupalace]

isatcord got this so I'll just drop this family bonds thing here too teehee

[summertimemusician]

*downs coffee like a shot* Before we go back to our regularly scheduled Linktober/Linktober Shadow (because I don't leave things unfinished if I can help it), I gotta get the idea of Revenant First out of my system and y'all get to suffer with me until it eventually ceases being an idea and it turns into an actual story. For some reason we talk a lot about First already being alive or already a ghost by the time the Chain meets him, but I don't think I've ever heard someone talk about him actually coming back to life and so y'all get to suffer with my insane ramblings like I'm an 1800's psychic ward patient who believes themselves to be a witch.

Can be x Reader or not idk just an idea that won't leave my mind.

Might expand on this later so Part out of I/?

Revenant First, who died for his people and in the name of his Goddess. All alone on the surface, fighting, fighting, fighting, always fighting. Just to make the land a little safer before the next hero arrives, just to contain the Imprisoned for a little while longer with likely nothing than a ordinary, common sword to his name and a slowly rusting armor.

Always giving so so so much for his people, always doing his best to protect them, though they scorned him, loathed him, didn't believe or support him, rejected him.

With a spirit so strong and lovely that a Goddess fell for him, hated herself for having to manipulate and put him through such horrid experiences just to save the many, just to turn the diamond of his soul into an unbreakable lonsdaleite blade agaisnt a mad deity.

Someone whose will would be enough to keep him going, just one more fight right? Just one more kill right? Forward, forward, ever onward, it doesn't matter if the flesh decays, if the blood drips drips drips until he is dry of it, if the liver doesn't process nutrients, if the lungs don't draw air, if the nerves feel nothing but the cold cold numbness of the winter of his final years, if the heart doesn't beat. If the armor rusts or the sword breaks. He must keep going, he must keep fighting.

To keep them safe he must have faith, faith that he can keep going, to grasp onto that one.single.thread of purpose until the day that fiery, indomitable, determined will finally burns out. Even if his Goddess may have forsaken him knowingly or unknowingly, even if his people have rejected him to the point he isn't even human anymore, even though they reviled him, even if that rejection should by all intents and purposes chained his spirit to the land or ground the jewel of his unbreakable soul into dust, he still loves them, still adores them, still wants to protect them.

No matter how long he must keep going for it. He wishes to see those he holds dear happy, though they cursed and imprisoned him once.

The Chain getting dropped into a completely empty, desolated and undeniably dead version of Sky's Hyrule, only to find the only living thing besides monster is a single man, with rusted gold armor and an old sword, a faded tunic of green with a long, crimson scarf like a bloody banner. With hair and eyes like theirs, undeniably a Link. But so very frigid, so very silent they almost didn't notice him, that they can't help but wonder just how many years he has spent there, eroding away, ruined but still kind, kind, so very gentle. A shadow of his former self, yes, but still himself, still so so so good, doing all he can until Sky's Era comes and maybe, just maybe, he can finally rest.

Or maybe not, after all, someone has to keep the land safe until the Hero after Sky comes around, no?

Just Revenant First in general.

Or maybe we give him the House in Fata Morgana treatment, the House in Fata Hylia Au if you will- *collapses from sleep deprivation*

[masonjarsmoments]

[reiverreturns]

right my darlings, im getting to the point where i need a kick up the ass to make any headway on getting my writing discipline back. since i keep flitting between three ideas and not progressing any, please tell me what i should write to break my funk. the pressure will mould me.

i am in no way shape or form gauging interest because these will all eventually get written, i just need some goddamn accountability to kickstart the engine again after [redacted] months off.

[h0n04rys3n10r]

casey's tech! finally letting myself post this instead of waiting for a fic that'll likely never be written

[radioactivepeasant]

Surprise: Free Day Thursday Part Three!

Part One, Part Two

Yes, it's all out of order. But honestly that's kind of by design. See, I've got this idea of the story opening with Samos delivering a prologue, as he usually does. It's very much a statement by an unreliable narrator. And then you'd see what was happening in Spargus and think "wait, this doesn't match up". And then it would go back and forth between game stuff and how Jak got to the Wasteland.

So first Samos would provide a recap of Jak II. Then he'd say something like,

"But, sensing the weakness of our defenses, a ruthless warlord appeared from the Wastes. The dreaded Dune-Wolf, as efficient as he is deadly. He made only one demand: "Give up the Dark Warrior, or we will tear your city apart, beginning with this man we caught scouting around our camp."

But the man was the leader of the city militia, the right hand man of the governor herself. What choice did that leave us? With an innocent man's life in the balance -- to say nothing of the city -- Jak had no alternative but to accept the Dune-Wolf's terms. On the day of the exchange, the governor slipped a dagger into Jak's boot, where the Wastelanders would not find it, so that at least he would not be helpless. It has been many months now since that fateful day, but I have faith that Jak will gather his strength and escape that barren desert, to return to us once more."

And then it would cut to Spargus:

Daxter clung to the exterior of the tower, finding handholds no human would ever have been capable of. Swiftly and quietly, he scaled the rain-slick wall to slide through a window too narrow for most. Once inside, he shook water from his fur and beckoned to the figure crouched by the wall.

"Coast is clear, Jak." Daxter gestured with a thumb over his shoulder. "We'll have to climb down clockwise to avoid the guards, but then it's a straight shot to the elevator."

"Nice work." Jak held out a fist to bump against Daxter's.

He pulled his goggles down over his face and gripped the edges of the sill.

"This is it, Dax. We're getting out of here."

With a crackle, dark eco washed over his body, radiating from the lichtenberg patterns across his chest and arms. Jak's dark form didn't care about whether a space was "too small". He could fit anywhere as long as he could get his head through. With a scrape and a few very unsettling pops, he squeezed out of the window and dug his claws into the wall. Daxter slid out after him and dropped to his shoulder. Then the escape was underway.

Humans were not supposed to be able to cling to vertical surfaces like lizards. But then, Jak had never really been one for obeying conventional ideas of what humans were supposed to be able to do. He crept down the tower, following the clockwise path Daxter pointed out to him. After about two more levels, the walls would become sheer metal, and they would run out of handholds. They would have to switch to indoors then -- provided Jak's dark eco didn't run out and cause them to fall to their deaths.

The window in the pump room had been left open. This would have been suspiciously convenient in most cases, but the rain brought cooler air, and open windows were to be found all across the city to take advantage of it. Jak shimmied in through the foot-wide space and hopped lightly down over pipes and gears. They would have to be careful here: one wrong move could damage the water filtration system and cause problems for a lot of innocent people. Jak eased up beside the open doorway and craned his neck to check the hall.

Perfect.

Taking advantage of the pump room's noise to drown out his grunt of pain, Jak let the dark eco subside, drawing it back into his core.

"Alright Dax, which way?" he whispered.

"Left. Er, my left- not yours. Stick to the ceiling when we get to the hall with the monks. After that it's just two antechambers to the way out."

Moving from room to room in almost complete silence, they met no resistance. Of course, they'd long since learned to avoid the traps hidden under the engraved floor tiles, and Jak put the ease of their journey down to experience.

Daxter wasn't so sure. Something felt...off.

The elevator -- the only true exit from the fortified tower -- sat at the edge of a carefully maintained indoor oasis. It had the rare quality of being both beautiful and strangely threatening -- like Tess, Daxter sometimes joked. Much of this was due to the vast dais sitting opposite the lift. Two braziers fastened to rough stone pillars provided the only illumination that didn't come from the window behind the dais, and what natural light there was had to filter through dozens of small date palms. Between the trees and huge carving set behind the throne, there were far too many shadowy places for an enemy to hide.

Jak was going to take full advantage of that.

Hopping from rock to rock, he deftly avoided the streams to make it to the wooden frame of the simple moving platform. He would have to be quick: pulling back the lever to call the platform up was going to make a lot of noise. The second the bar around the lever locked into place with a loud clank, Jak grabbed Daxter and darted into the shadows between two palms to hide in case someone came to investigate.

He had scarcely turned around when he realized someone was already standing where he had just been. How had he missed them?!

Broad shoulders, heavy bracers, otherwise slight build. This wouldn't be an easy fight if it was who Jak suspected it was. But they were the last obstacle between Jak and freedom, and he'd come too far to back down now.

The person turned as Jak left the trees, and firelight caught on glimmering shards of Precursor metal, set into his skull.

Ah. Of course.

"Dune-Wolf," Jak greeted the warrior casually.

"Escapee," the Dune-Wolf returned.

"Can't keep me here forever, Dune-Wolf," Jak challenged, stepping in a careful circle around the man.

"It's the middle of the storm season, of course I can," the warlord scoffed.

Daxter shook out his arms and took a ready stance at Jak's side. "Better hope you locked the front gate, pal, because we're outta here!"

King Damas raised a brow, and the corner of his mouth twitched up. "Are you now? I wouldn't be so sure of that."

He shifted one foot back, and raised his staff. "You will not set one foot past me."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that," Jak retorted, and he charged.

The faint sting of old bruises reminded him to jump -- Damas liked sweeping his opponents' legs out from under them -- and he used his momentum to sail over the staff and land to the king's left. His feet had barely made contact with the floor before Damas’s own momentum caught up to him. Damas followed his swing through by pivoting and catching Jak across the midsection with the staff. Jak flew backwards into one of the streams with the wind knocked out of him.

Daxter ducked the staff with a screech and actually leaped up onto it. He clung for dear life while Damas paused in an attempt to shake him off before shrugging and picking him up by the scruff of the neck. Jak surged out of the water like a sea monster to grasp the staff and try to pull it from Damas’s hands. Forced to choose which opponent to focus on, Damas released Daxter just in time for Jak to finally wrest the staff from his fingers and toss it across the room.

"Nice try," Jak panted, and dug in his heels as the two matched grips.

For a moment, neither gave way, but ultimately, Damas had the advantage of size.

He shifted stance for one instant and swept Jak's feet out from under him. Jak landed hard, and before he could get his elbows under him, a hand came down on the back of his neck, anchoring him in place. Jak froze, well accustomed by now to the irritating consequences of failure. Damas crouched beside him, and when Jak strained his eyes to get a look at the king, he was smirking.

"Nice try," he echoed. He let go and stood back to let Jak sit up. "I told you, you can't get past me."

Jak bent slightly to catch his breath, begrudgingly admitting defeat. But then he grinned and pointed past Damas.

"Then who's in the elevator?"

Damas whirled to see Daxter, waving at him from inside. Going for the staff had been a ploy: Jak had never intended to win the fight.

"Got past you this time, Dune-Wolf. A deal's a deal," Daxter crowed.

Jak mirrored his cocky grin.

"We got past you, so you have to let me take my last Arena trial before winter."

Damas grumbled good-naturedly and shook his head. "Why did I ever let you talk me into that?"

He leaned down and pulled Jak to his feet in a single motion.

"I probably should have specified that you both had to get past me. That's on me."

"Buuut," Jak pointed out, "you didn't specify. C'mon, Dune-Wolf, pay up."

"Don't call me Dune-Wolf," Damas sighed -- for the umpteenth time -- "enemies call me Dune-Wolf. Soldiers call me Dune-Wolf. You don't."

Jak flashed a cheeky grin at him. "Sure, sure, Damas."

Daxter could have sworn the warlord's eye twitched just a little.

"Alright, now you're just being impudent." Damas tweaked Jak’s ear. "It's either father, or dad to you."

Jak batted his hand away and rolled his eyes. "Man, I haven't had a father in twelve years! I'm not used to being someone's kid!"

It was truly a mark of progress that Damas didn’t respond to statement with a dampening of his mood, or a wince. Instead, he wrestled Jak into a playful headlock and scrubbed his knuckles across the boy’s scalp.

"Yeah? Well you live here, so you better start getting used to it!"

Jak snorted and tried to break free, but admittedly he was at an awkward angle and Damas did still have a height advantage.

"Ack! Leggo!"

"What? Put you upside down, you said?" Damas teased.

It wasn't an idle threat, that was how the last spar had ended.

"Okay okay!" Jak laughed and smacked Damas’s arm. "I yield! Let up, Dad!"

Damas eased his grip immediately, slackening the hold into a loose arm around Jak’s shoulders. "You did good, cub," he said warmly, "You're ready for the last trial."

"Told you we were!" Daxter chirped. "C'mon Jak, the sooner you get your zoomies out on the Playground of Death, the sooner we get to vote!"

"Aht! Breakfast first!"

Damas shifted one heel, and the next thing Daxter knew a foot had come out of nowhere to scoop him out of the elevator and up into the air. Jak caught him with a truncated curse and fumbled to set him on his shoulders.

"But we already ate!" He protested.

"We ate six raisins and a roll," Daxter tattled, "Lead the way, Mr. The Dad."

[thestalwartheart]

First and pov for a wip of your own choosing pretty please 🙏

From the no excuses writing meme.

Thanks for asking, Alex! These are from the next installment of my black dog series. It's going to be the first story in that series to feature Bond dealing with depression.

First:

You’ve reached James Bond. Leave a message and— Q taps the button to end the call with more force than usual.

POV (Bond's because the fic is written in Q's):

Bond turns around. Q is standing only in his underwear, soaked through. Bond has no idea how long he's been there, though it must have been a couple of minutes at least because his body is pink with the shower's heat. At the sight of him, a fog begins to lift. "Take those off," he murmurs, nodding at Q's pants. "You're tired," argues Q. "You need—" "I'm not asking for sex." The very thought of getting hard at the moment is laughable. His whole body aches as if it's been put through a meat grinder. "Just come here," Bond insists. "I want to feel you, that's all."

[riverblujay]

there is no greater mourning than accepting after multiple hours that you will not be able to find a very good fic you suddenly had a hazy memory of. you can only hope it has not been deleted and that maybe, against all odds, it will return home to you someday

[patrice-bergerons]

Consider a multiverse fic in which canon! Q and Bond find themselves in our universe.  I normally don’t like this trope because it almost always ends up feeling too gimmicky, but James Bond is such a cultural institution with an equal amount of cultural baggage that you can just about pull it off I think.  And the angst potential is exquisite.

Above and beyond the getting yanked bit, they can tell something is wrong in this new place the moment Bond uses his classic intro—”the name is Bond, James Bond”—and gets a hearty chuckle and a ‘good impression daniel craig lookalike’ in return.

(Bond could actually sense it a little earlier when Q saw him and pulled him into a bruising hug as if he’d seen a ghost. ‘What year is it for you?’ Q asked and looked puzzled for the briefest moment when Bond said 2019 though he quickly replied it was the same for him too and he had no idea where this 3 year gap came from, where in this new place it’s 2022.)

And this new place is full of ghosts—Eva Green looks exactly like Vesper, Judi Dench exactly like M and DCraig and Ben Whishaw, all of them actors, exactly like the two of them and so on.

Still, when they get DVDs of the films, they expect them to be wildly inaccurate—isn’t that always the case with movies based on ‘real stories’?—even though they hope they might contain some clue as to how the hell they get back home.  

Except they start CR and according to Bond, every single detail spot on from the make of the car he drove to what he wore—

I just think you can do so much with taking someone as private and cagey as Bond and turning his life (his grief) into mass entertainment, you know, and how dehumanising and bewildering it must be for them both to find out your life is a story as far as a whole universe is concerned with narrative choices and plot points, and them finding out that Bond is this symbol of ultimate masculinity to so many men.  

And it would also offer this intrusive but super interesting window into the bits of each other’s lives they were never a part of (Q suggesting they don’t have to watch CR when he realises what’s going on and what’s coming or at least that he doesn’t have to be there only for Bond to make it a point of pride and doom them both) and it would also be a tale of grief—not only for people Bond lost along the way but for Q too; Q who very much so is from 2022.

I just think of them reading the commentary from the cast and producers around NTTD alone, that the best ending for Bond was for him to die for the people he loves the most, that Madeleine was the love of his life etc. and I break my own heart, man.

[pinkseas]

i dont think ive been Posting much about collei but i think tumblr simply knows exactly how much ive been thinking abt her (and wanderer 🙄 but mostly her) and adjusted accordingly

[dracoria-nebulae]

Fic masterpost!

I figured it would be good to stick all of them in here heh. One spot and pin it, links to the first chapters of each one. Reminder though you can't read them without an account, I'm sorry but I want to at least try and preserve my work... These are also all explicit, for various reasons, like my blog these are all 18+ ONLY. (Also most are pretty angsty)

Space is kinda scary though- : Roughly among us inspired multi-universe reverse harem in space.

Abyssal Lights : Siren reader and multi-universe marine researcher skeletons. (Machine in the basement type)

Smoke and Mirrors : Megalosomnia mafiafell world where reader is a rival don.

Guardians of Eden : Childhood friends with the dreamtale boys into eventual romance in adulthood.

The Price You Pay : Fae reader and the farmfell brothers living on the edge of the fae's forest.

The Bonds That Break : An 'Inverto' style au where the barrier breaking releases magic that turns many humans with magic bloodlines into a monster form. Massive multi-universe reverse harem and sort of anti-harem.

[willofhounds]

Fear snippet

Shouta skid across a rooftop in Eastern Musutafu his right hand slammed onto his chest. Pain like he hadn't felt since he was a teenager rushed through him. The bond between soulmates that hadn't even untethered as it was still existed. He had to clench his jaw to keep from crying out.

This was a soulmate bond breaking. It was far worse than the formed bond he had with his soulparents during his second year at UA. It felt as if his soul was tearing into pieces and then being burned.

How did this happen? Wasn't his soulmate a child? Why was he dying so suddenly?

...

Tsunagu leaned against the wall his right hand gripping his left forearm tightly. He desperately tried to keep his breathing even but it was becoming increasingly difficult. Glazed green eyes watched from the doorway as the doctors did their work. He hadn't been able to call Naomasa before the pain had overtaken him. His phone was laying on the ground with the contact pulled up.

A new iv was hooked into Izuku's arm and a bag was attached. From his position he could see the markings making it glucose. What?

The pain continued and he moved his hand to check the mark. Only for his heart to practically stop in his chest. It was cracking along the green otter and it was beginning to blacken. The bond between soulparent and child that only had begun to form was breaking. If the doctors did not save Izuku he was going to die.

"Best Jeanist?" Questioned a young male voice from behind him.

Tsunagu turned to face a teenager with ash blond hair and blood red eyes. Behind him was one of the orderlies who had not been a part of Izuku's treatment. The orderly looked uncertain between them. It was obvious if he was wondering if he had made a mistake.

[taegularities]

…mhh