#he can travel to the shadow world (with preparation) and he can also fight shadows

[multishipper-baby]

I don't think Eze has any special powers aside from being able to see and speak to shadows, but I do think he occasionally pretends he does when dealing with shadows that are particularly annoying or rowdy.

[nerdallwritey]

Perfect Every Time

Summary: You got up and joined him in the ankle deep water. “Do you want to try right now?” Astarion thought for a moment and clicked his tongue. “I have a better idea, actually.” He gave you a sideways look, his lips quirking up slightly.  “What?” you matched his smile. Rather than answering, Astarion reached for the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head.  You furrowed your brow. “Looks an awful lot like you’re preparing to swim.” He started fiddling with the clasps on his pants and groaned in your direction. “Swimming is not the only thing one can do while submerged in water, dearest.” He gave you a sensual smile that sent heat to your cheeks.  OR Before your party travels into the Underdark, you and Astarion catch one last sunrise together.

Pairing: Astarion x f!reader Rating: 18+ Word count: 7.2k CW: smut, reader is new to sex, hand job, piv sex, water sex, dirty talk, mentions of Astarion's past trauma, blood drinking, extra mild angst, soft Astarion, porn with feelings, reader is an idiot (and a bard), so is Astarion (not a bard, just an idiot), Illmater's blood-stained rack Spoilers: Minor spoilers for Act 1 (in-game dialogue, plot points, etc.), as well as Astarion's plotline Also posted to: AO3 FAIR WARNING: This is PART 4 in my series, "Beauty and the Bard." Find the masterlist here.

a/n: Surprise!! I'm back with a new chapter of Beauty and the Bard! This part is shorter than the other ones (who cheered) because it morphed from a little smut scene into one that deserved its very own part. One million thanks to everyone who's read and enjoyed the series so far, it's so much fun chatting with you guys and hearing your thoughts and it truly means the world that you guys care so much about these goofs. I already have an idea for Part 5, so that will be coming soon, but I have a request to fill first! Thank you all for your patience. In the meantime, please enjoy our regularly scheduled silliness with Astarion and bard!tav :) (Thank you once again to @kermitwazowski for beta reading!) As a reminder, the last part was the Tiefling party!

Taglist: @a66-1, @khaleesiofthewolves, @khywren, @lollipopsandlandmines, @mizuki-nautilus - Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series!

Several days had passed since the hijinxs of the Tiefling party had taken place. By now, the former refugees of the Emerald Grove were well on their way to Baldur’s Gate, the looming threat of goblins and power hungry druids far from their minds, their thoughts instead replaced with hope for new beginnings in the city. 

Just like he’d promised, Halsin had returned the next day to discuss the parasites, officially joining your party of misfits on your journey towards the Shadow Cursed Lands and Moonrise Towers. His calming presence and sage advice was a welcome addition to the group, especially given that this leadership role had been thrust upon you by the others with next to no discussion. Having Halsin around finally felt like there was a responsible adult among you. Not that you all weren’t adults, but you definitely had your… quirks. Sure, Halsin turned into a bear if he let his emotions go unchecked, but Gale was a bomb. 

As for you and Astarion, not much had really changed, you were both still yourselves, but now you openly tortured your companions with more pet names and cheek kisses and obnoxiously loud banter. Lae’zel had threatened to cleave you both in half on multiple occasions, but had yet to follow through on that threat. The others would groan loudly or avert their eyes politely.

Your days with Astarion were spent fighting side-by-side and teasing one another, and your nights were spent chatting and reading together. Aside from the physical intimacy and emotional vulnerability that came with being in a new relationship, it was really as if nothing had changed. And those were small prices to pay for where you currently found yourself: wrapped together with a trancing Astarion.

Ever since the Tiefling party, Astarion would worm his way into your tent at night. Whether he asked permission, or stayed a little too late into the night reading or talking or drinking from you; you would never ask him to leave. You’d slept together every night, sometimes beside each other, and other nights wrapped in each others’ arms. You were allowing Astarion to set the pace, as you were in no rush to get anywhere in particular. You simply enjoyed his company and his magnetic presence. 

The pair of you hadn’t been too intimate since the party, barring stolen and sometimes steamy kisses. That was plenty for you, and Astarion continued checking in to see if you were okay with his touches and advances. Whenever you assured him that you were, he’d smile and return to your lips. You never asked him for more than he was willing to give, and even though you knew he wouldn’t say anything about it, you could tell he appreciated the courtesy despite the smug mask he so often wore.

Now, you found yourself stroking your hands through his hair as he tranced on your bare chest, breathing quietly; a habit he told you he’d picked up to look more alive when prowling the Gate. 

It was funny, honestly, how sweet and unassuming he looked when he wasn’t fully conscious. And yet, you knew the kind of violence and debauchery and bad jokes he enacted and adored when he was awake. A small sound escaped his lips and you paused in caressing his hair to make sure you weren’t waking him. When his breathing returned to normal, you resumed raking your fingers soothingly over his scalp. 

The hour was a little before dawn. Truthfully, you hadn’t gotten much sleep last night, knowing that today was the day your party would pack up camp and make your way into the Underdark for the foreseeable future. You’d re-emerge eventually to find the crèche Lae’zel knew to be nearby, but the Underdark was worth investigating for the sake of further answers about the tadpoles and a possible alternate route into the Shadow Cursed Lands. Plus, Shadowheart was adamant about seeing the rumored temple to Shar hidden down there.

All that to say, you and your companions wouldn’t be seeing the sun for quite a while. The thought saddened you immensely, knowing how much the man trancing on you would miss it terribly. How cruel, you thought, that your adventure was leading Astarion back into the shadows after he’d just gotten a taste of the sun for the first time in centuries. 

“Why are you awake, my darling?” came Astarion’s raspy voice from the dark. He shifted his head to look up at you, his grip around your midsection tightening a bit, his eyes heavy with grogginess.

“Couldn’t sleep,” you admitted. “You should get a little more if you can.”

Astarion chuckled. “Too busy thinking about me to sleep? I wouldn’t blame you.”

You sighed. “And if I was?”

Astarion’s face fell a little. “Why the hells would you allow yourself to lose sleep on my behalf, pet?” His voice was soft and one of his hands unwrapped itself from your body, taking your hand, and bringing it up to his mouth to kiss the back of your fingers. He cleared his throat. “I mean, obviously I can understand why,” he tried deflecting the sweetness that had seeped into his words by injecting his tone with fake bravado.

You let out an amused breath and allowed your hand in his hair to continue petting him gently. “I want to watch the sunrise with you again this morning.”

Astarion hummed. “And that kept you awake?”

“I didn’t want to oversleep.”

Now it was Astarion’s turn to let out an amused breath. “You could have asked. I would have woken you up.”

“No you wouldn’t, you keep letting me sleep in. It’s like you enjoy watching me sleep or something, you creep.” You poked his nose playfully.

“It’s just amazing how much drool someone of your stature can produce.”

You smacked the side of his head and he laughed softly. The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a little while before you decided to speak again.

“This will be the last sunrise we see for a while.”

Astarion let out a long sigh and remained silent. After a moment, he said, “I know.” 

He sounded sad. 

“It’s not forever, though,” you assured, moving your hand to stroke his cheek and regaining his attention.

He chuckled. “I know that, too.”

You yawned, a little more loudly than you meant to. “Good. I promise you’ll see the sun again.”

Astarion tsked. “Honestly, darling, did you get no sleep at all?”

“I got a little,” you lied.

He held your gaze, lifting a skeptical eyebrow. “I don’t believe you.”

“What does it matter?” you asked, caught. “I can handle a little lack of sleep.”

Astarion rolled his eyes and sat up to look at you more directly. “It matters because we need you alert. None of us knows what awaits us in the Underdark and I- we can’t have you getting hurt because you didn’t get enough rest!”

“I’ll be fine,” you assured, bending upwards to kiss the corner of his mouth. “Besides, I’ll have you to protect me when I get sloppy.”

Astarion groaned. “You shouldn’t get sloppy,” he complained. “I swear, if you somehow hold us back down there, I’ll slaughter you myself.”

“Promise?”

He groaned again. “Would you, just once, allow me to threaten you seriously?”

“No,” you patted his cheek lovingly. 

He sighed and pushed some of his mussed hair out of his face. He took your hands in his. “Just… stay vigilant, alright?”

“Can do,” you said, withholding another obvious yawn.

“I saw that.”

“Saw what?”

He shook his head at you and sat up fully, stretching his arms above his head and giving you a clear view of the scar on his back. You sat up and kissed his bare shoulder.

“I’ll be fine,” you repeated.

“Mhm.” Astarion passed you one of his shirts. “Come on, darling, let’s get a move on.” He tossed on a spare shirt and watched you as you pulled his shirt over your head. 

“There’s still a little time before sunrise,” you said.

Astarion snorted and fixed some of your hair that was sticking up from putting on his shirt. “You could stay here if you want. Drown in your own drool. Up to you.”

You huffed at him, making him laugh again.

“Only joking, my love.”

“Sure,” you said, opening the flaps of your tent and crawling out into the blue that preceded dawn.

You went to stand, but felt Astarion’s cool fingers wrap around your wrist and pull you back. He turned you slightly and caught your lips in a kiss, one that wiped away whatever fake ire you had towards him and replaced it with a dopey grin. 

“What was that for?” you asked when he pulled away.

“Delicious,” he breathed, raising a seductive eyebrow. 

You laughed and grabbed his hand. “Come on.”

You’d only been able to catch two more sunrises with Astarion following the one you watched the morning after you’d slept together for the first time. You’d woken up once on your own after Astarion gently shifted himself away from you, and another time when he woke you up purposely, not wanting to be alone with his thoughts. You’d whine and moan whenever he let you sleep in, despite the fact that it was probably for the best to keep you in tip top shape for fighting and recharging your magic. He’d always find his way back to you, and you knew he needed his own space sometimes, but you still loved to watch him bask in the golden light of the morning and you couldn’t help feeling a little disappointed whenever you felt his gentle hand on your back before opening your eyes and seeing that the sun was already up.

Astarion led you through the forest again, his hand holding yours firmly. You knew your way to the ravine lookout by now, but you liked not having to take the lead for once. He helped you across the little stream that led into the clearing where you first laid together and you felt your cheeks flush at the memory.

“I can hear your heart picking up speed, darling.” He turned to smirk at you. “You’re adorable.”

“Pardon me for still being shy,” you half-joked.

“Mmm,” Astarion hummed. “I’ll pound that out of you eventually.” He furrowed his brow sensually at you and you scoffed.

“Shut up.”

“I, of course, don’t have to-”

You made a whiny sound and he laughed.

“I know, my love,” he said, removing his hand from yours and instead wrapping his arm around you to pull you close. “You’ve been so patient for me,” he nipped at your earlobe. “So good.” 

“I’m in no rush,” you reassured on a shaky exhale. 

Astarion made his own whiny sound and pulled you closer, leading you to the cliff’s edge where he’d opened up to you willingly for the first time, just a few days ago.

He sat, pulling you down with him, far enough away from the edge, where he knew you wouldn’t be nervous of falling. In the distance, the sky was just starting to indicate the sun’s arrival. 

You sighed happily and rested your head on his shoulder. You felt him tense a little. “Is this alright?” 

Instead of answering, he leaned his head on top of yours. 

“What’s something you want to do in the Underdark?” you probed.

Astarion groaned. “You don’t need to make small talk with me, darling, sometimes silence is golden.”

You scrunched your nose, knowing he hated pure silence. “I wasn’t being polite, I genuinely wanted to know.”

He groaned again. “Even worse.”

You laughed lightly and felt him laugh too, his arm gently shaking against your own. 

He thought for a moment before he responded. “That Zhentarim fellow we met mentioned a cache of supplies hidden somewhere down there. That might be fun to pillage.”

You laughed. “I’m surprised you ever stopped thinking about that!”

“Oh I didn’t, but I wanted you to think your little thought experiment had actually evoked some sort of… thought… in me.” He made a face.

“Want to try and rephrase that?”

“Not particularly.”

You hummed fondly, taking one of his hands in your own and examining how your fingers slotted together just so. 

“I suppose you want me to ask you the same question?” Astarion asked, clearly not wanting to ask.

You laughed. “Your interest in my interests always astounds me, Astarion.”

He rubbed his cheek against the top of your head. “Get better interests and I might actually want to pay attention.”

“Rude,” you muttered, a smile on your face. “But since you so desperately want to know, I’ll answer anyway.”

“Oh, goodie.”

You thought about it. There wasn’t actually all that much you knew about the Underdark, aside from the few mentions of it in the books you’d read growing up. One thing did stick out in your mind.

“Singing mushrooms.”

“........What?”

“I read somewhere that apparently there are colonies of sentient mushroom people who communicate through song.”

Astarion pulled his head off of yours to hang it in front of himself instead, groaning loudly. “That sounds like a nightmare.”

“It’s not! It’s fascinating!”

“Sentient mushrooms?”

“Yes.”

“That sing?”

“Yes.”

Astarion shook his head. “Am I still asleep? Do you hear yourself?”

“I’m not making it up!” you exclaimed incredulously. When he didn’t say anything else, you crossed your arms in front of yourself. “We’re going to see the mushrooms.”

“Whatever you say, darling.” He kissed the top of your head almost pityingly. 

“You’re an ass,” you said, pulling away from him and sitting back on your forearms. The sky was turning a faint pinkish orange in the distance. You snickered to yourself. “More like Ass-starion.”

The ass in question scowled. “That will not be one of your pet names for me.”

You shrugged. “I’m surprised no one’s called you that before.”

“I’ve been called far worse.” Astarion tilted his head up pompously, as if nothing you could say would hurt him.

“Okay great, so ‘Ass’ is nothing new.”

He sighed heavily. “It’s like you want me to throw you off the cliff.”

“Go ahead,” you challenged, catching his eye mischievously, knowing his threat was empty. 

Astarion looked at you and then towards the horizon. He inhaled deeply and rose to his feet. 

“What are you doing?” you laughed nervously as he approached the cliff’s edge that gave way into the ravine below. 

He peered over the edge, his brow furrowed in deep thought. 

You shifted uncomfortably and sat up completely straight. “Astarion, please be careful, you’re making me nervous.”

He ignored you and walked along the edge, looking past a batch of trees and into the distance to your right. He nodded and turned back towards where you sat.

“Up you go,” Astarion approached you and gestured his thumb upwards, indicating that he wanted you to stand. When he reached you, he helped you to your feet.

“You’re not actually going to throw me off the cliff, are you?” You kept your tone playful, but the anxiety you were masking was obvious.

Astarion smirked. “Stop annoying me and I won’t have to.”

You rolled your eyes and began to follow him as he started walking to the right, down a slanted slope and into a patch of trees. 

“What’s happening?” you asked when you caught up with him.

Astarion tilted his head. “I just thought an occasion such as this needed a change of scenery.”

“‘Occasion?’” you echoed.

He nodded. “It’s my last day in the sun-” he saw you about to protest and quickly added, “-for a little while. Might as well start the day off right.”

You hummed. “Why do I get the sense that you’re up to something?”

Astarion stopped in his tracks, a hand held to his unbeating heart in mock offense. “Me? Up to something? You’re far too paranoid, darling.”

“Uh huh.” You kept walking, but quickly realized you didn’t actually know where you were going. You looked back at Astarion for help and found him watching you. 

He rolled his eyes affectionately. “This way, dear, it’s not much farther.” He walked past you, deeper into the trees, and kept talking. “Did you know that that ravine we’ve been sitting above gives way into what I can only assume is either the Chianthar or the Sea of Swords?”

“I didn’t,” you said. “Though those are two very different bodies of water.”

“Give me a break, my geography lessons occurred well over 200 years ago. And we’re in the gods damn middle of nowhere, might I remind you.”

“Mhm,” you affirmed with a smile. “Go on.”

“Well, it just so happens that that ravine’s mouth isn’t far from our little sunrise spot.”

“‘Our?’” you teased.

“Focus, darling,” he said. He turned to the left, leading you back towards the cliff’s edge that had continued along the treeline.

“Astarion, please be careful,” you called after him, hesitantly following him towards the sound of rushing water. 

He turned back and held out a steadying hand for you as you approached the edge. Not too far below you were narrow rapids that gradually became calmer. The cliff that had been on the other side of the one you currently found yourself on had disappeared, forming a mouth where the ravine did in fact empty into a much larger, much calmer, body of water.

You wrapped your arms around Astarion’s middle to anchor yourself and leaned forward a little to see where the cliff you were on ended. A little farther down, you squinted to adjust your eyes to the dim lighting, and saw a tiny beach that quickly shot upwards into a new cliff. Rocks surrounded the shore, keeping it slightly out of view, and gentle waves lapped at the sand, far enough away from the rapids of the ravine to remain serene.

You caught Astarion’s eye and pointed towards the small patch of sand in the distance. “Is that where we’re going?”

Astarion pursed his lips. “Yes, that would be much easier than jumping in, wouldn’t it?”

You scoffed. “You expected me to jump in from this high up? There could be rocks we can’t see! And we don’t know how deep it is!”

Astarion sighed. “You’re no fun. Though I suppose you’re right, I hadn’t thought that far ahead.” With your arms still around his middle, he started walking back into the trees and down towards the tiny beach. 

You laughed as he dragged you along. “You can’t possibly be serious. You’d get your hair all wet!”

“Nobody said I was going to jump in with you,” he teased.

“I’m not going in alone,” you narrowed your eyes at him. 

“Pity,” he tutted. “I like it when you’re wet.” He smirked and you shoved yourself away from him. 

You picked up your pace to put distance between the two of you. When you didn’t hear his footsteps gaining on you, you decided to quickly slip behind a tree, hoping you’d lost him and that you’d be able to jump out to scare him as he sauntered past.

Unfortunately, nothing but silence greeted you. After a heartbeat or two, you peered around the trunk of your hiding spot but saw no sign of his sleek frame or shock of white hair. You started to second guess yourself; was it possible he’d passed you already? Or that he stopped, out of sight for some reason? 

“You’ll have to do better than that, darling,” came his voice softly next to your ear.

You yelped and clutched at your heart, which raced with surprise. 

Astarion sighed happily. “I do love the sound of your blood pumping.”

“How do you do that?” you asked, breathing deeply to calm yourself. 

“Years of practice.” He paused. “Centuries, even.”

You conceded with a nod. “I shouldn’t have even tried.”

“No, you shouldn’t have. The effort was hardly there, either.”

“Alright,” you rolled your eyes and continued on through the trees down to the beach.

“I mean honestly, have these weeks on the road with me taught you nothing about stealth?”

“I play music for a living. My job is making noise.”

“And I don’t know why I even try at this point.” He raised his eyebrows playfully.

“You like my noise,” you said, sing-songingly. 

“You’re loud, I’ll give you that.”

It was then that you emerged from the trees and onto a grassy dune that sloped downward onto the flat sand below. You slid down the dune with as much grace as you could muster, only falling on your ass once, before taking off your shoes and sinking your toes into the cool sand that made up the shoreline. Astarion followed after you, his long strides keeping him upright and as elegant as ever. He came to stand next to you, taking his own shoes off and placing them neatly beside yours.

You exhaled wistfully and grabbed Astarion’s bicep, leaning your head onto his shoulder. From here, you had a clear view of the sun on the horizon. The sky was a deep shade of pink, giving way to golds and oranges the closer you watched. You looked at Astarion, whose eyes were focused on the sunrise in the distance. 

“What are you thinking about?” you asked quietly.

Astarion looked over at you and blinked. Then he smiled. “Just that it’s truly a wonder you’ve made it this far in life.”

“What?!” you exclaimed, shocked and amused.

You could tell he was holding in a laugh. “You are inept at hiding and fall down sand dunes. What were we thinking when we started following you around Faerûn?”

“I’ll push you into the water, pretty boy.”

“I’d pull you in with me, my love.”

“Touché,” you smiled and released his arm, sitting on the sand. You pulled your legs to your chest and rested your cheek on your knee. Around you, reeds and tall grass swayed in the morning breeze. Astarion remained standing, watching the horizon. 

As much as you enjoyed watching the sunrise, you enjoyed watching Astarion watch it more. The way his attention became transfixed on the sky, the way the vibrant light painted itself onto him like a blank canvas, the way his entire body relaxed when the warmth of the sun finally reached his skin. 

You heard him sigh and watched as he walked forward a little, allowing the tiny waves rolling off the water to rush gently over his toes. He flinched a little in shock and you let out an affectionate breath through your nose.

“Cold?” you asked.

“You know, it’s funny,” Astarion said, his voice a million miles away. “It’s been so long since I’ve been able to move through water like this.”

“What do you mean?” You furrowed your brow. “I’ve seen you in the lake at camp before.”

“I don’t know, I guess I haven’t given it too much thought until now. Normally, I can’t move through running water like this. Don’t ask me why, it’s one of those idiotic vampire laws dictated by some ancient devil with an infuriating sense of humor. I can bathe, sure, but I haven’t been proper swimming since… before.”

You stayed quiet as he moved further into the water, letting the waves wash over his ankles.

“I have to imagine I knew how to swim at one point,” he said quietly.

“I could teach you,” you offered. “I was going to teach Shadowheart at some point too. You’re welcome to join us if you want.”

Astarion snorted. “And look like a fool in front of the cleric? I’ll pass.”

“You don’t need swim lessons to look like a fool,” you clarified. 

“Ha ha,” he said humorlessly. 

You got up and joined him in the ankle deep water. “Do you want to try right now?”

Astarion thought for a moment and clicked his tongue. “I have a better idea, actually.” He gave you a sideways look, his lips quirking up slightly. 

“What?” you matched his smile.

Rather than answering, Astarion reached for the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head. 

You furrowed your brow. “Looks an awful lot like you’re preparing to swim.”

He started fiddling with the clasps on his pants and groaned in your direction. “Swimming is not the only thing one can do while submerged in water, dearest.” He gave you a sensual smile that sent heat to your cheeks. 

“Oh,” you said, stiffly watching him undress. “Should I-?” you awkwardly pulled at the collar of his shirt that was currently resting on your shoulders. 

He straightened, naked but for his underwear. He frowned a little. 

“You don’t have to do anything, my love. I just thought we might have some fun while watching the sunrise.”

You bit your bottom lip, thinking it over. “I do like fun.”

“I know that about you.” Astarion walked towards you and reached for the hem of your shirt. “May I?”

You nodded and lifted your arms to help. He took the shirt and tossed it over to where he’d discarded his own clothes. He stepped closer to you, pulling you to him so that you were chest to chest, and nuzzled his nose into the area where your neck met your shoulder. He placed a slow, gentle kiss there that had you inhaling sharply and exhaling unevenly. He groaned with need before pulling back and readjusting to kiss your lips. He came at it with more force than you were expecting, causing you to stumble back a little, but his hands firmly gripped your biceps, keeping you steady. You suppressed a giggle and instead smiled against his mouth before opening up for him and allowing his tongue to meet yours. Astarion hummed with pleasure, moving his mouth against yours and bringing his hands up to tangle in your hair. When he finally pulled away, he left one more chaste kiss against your lips before fully pulling back. 

His eyes were alight with something that morphed into joy when he saw the gooey grin on your face. He rolled his eyes affectionately before looking you up and down and exhaling a laugh.

“You are perfect,” he said, almost in awe.

You smiled. “When?”

Astarion pulled you closer, his eyes narrowing seductively. “Every time.”

You snickered and pulled away from him, a teasing grin plastered on his face. You bent to remove your own pants and watched to see what Astarion would do next. When you saw him reach for his underwear, you averted your eyes and heard him laugh.

“Nothing new over here, darling,” he said, and the soft splashing sounds that followed indicated he’d walked into the water.

“I know,” you replied, embarrassed. You turned back towards him and shrugged. “Habit, I guess.”

“Well, cut it out,” he called, now knee deep in the water. His body was rigid from the temperature, his shoulders rising up to his ears. He turned back to look back at you, still standing on the shore. “Illmater’s blood-stained RACK, this is cold!” 

“I don’t know what you expected,” you called back, hugging your arms to your chest and trying to convince yourself to brave the frigid waters and join him.

“I rather expected you would be in here with me to keep me warm,” he said, turning back towards the sunrise ahead of him.

You quickly pulled off your underwear and started walking into the water, tensing at the cold, but willing yourself to keep going. 

“If you wanted my blood, you could have just asked,” you said when you finally reached him.

“There you are, darling,” Astarion said and grabbed your hand. 

“Hi,” you said softly.

“Brace yourself,” he tipped his head forward a little.

“What?”

Without warning, Astarion lowered himself into the water so that it was just below his shoulders, and pulled you down with him. You hadn’t expected to be yanked so forcefully and unsurprisingly lost your footing. You plunged downward, reaching your free hand out to break your fall and ended up dunking your face below the surface. You were submerged for less than a second, but you came up sputtering and made eye contact with a gleeful vampire. He sucked in his lips to keep from laughing.

“And what was that?” you asked blandly, flicking wet tendrils of hair out of your face.

“Apologies, darling, I didn’t mean for you to get your pretty hair all wet,” he pouted at you and sounded less than sympathetic. 

“Uh huh,” you narrowed your eyes at him. You crawled closer to him, made weightless by the water, and sat beside him, the water level reaching slightly higher on your chest than his. You scooted back a little and dragged your arm out behind you. You pushed it forward quickly, creating a splash that soaked the back of Astarion’s head. He instantly hunched forward and yelped. 

“How dare you?!” he exclaimed, his curls flattening and falling partially into his face. 

“Whoops,” you shrugged. Your eyes widened when you saw him wind his own arm back in retaliation and quickly dunked your head below the surface to avoid his onslaught of water.

When you reemerged, you heard Astarion snicker.

“Look at that,” he said, his tone mocking, “you’re all wet for me.”

You wasted no time in splashing him directly in the face.

“Let’s not do this,” he said flatly, his eyes closed. He brought his hands up to wipe the water off his face, even though his hands were equally wet.

“But now you’re all wet for me,” you teased. 

“I’ll show you what I am,” Astarion growled and took your hand underwater. He pulled you closer and led your hand to his cock, which was already rigid with desire, despite the temperature of the water. 

You made eye contact with him as you started pumping your hand up and down his shaft and he hissed out a breath. 

“Easy, darling,” he said shakily. 

“What’s the matter?” you asked, close to his ear. “Don’t you want to cum while watching the sunrise?”

Astarion groaned and you moved your hand up to swipe your thumb across his tip and then back down to continue pumping. You lifted your weightless body up and swung your leg around so that you were sitting between his legs, facing him head on with the sunrise at your back. 

“I know what would make you even harder,” you cooed, wiping wet hair out of his face with your free hand. Instead of finishing the thought, you tilted your head to the side, offering up your neck to him. 

Astarion’s eyes, half lidded with lust, went wide and looked at you. You nodded to him, and he pulled you closer to his chest, kissing your throat feverishly upon contact. Your hand was still wedged between your legs, twisting around Astarion’s length. He moaned as he nosed along your throat for where your pulse thrummed the strongest.

“Thank you,” he said before sinking his fangs into you. 

You let out a moan of your own, your mouth falling open as goosebumps broke out along your arms. The cold water mixed with the ice in your veins created a delicious mixture of pleasure and pain. The hand pumping Astarion’s length started to slow as you felt yourself focusing instead on the satisfyingly dull thrum that came with him drinking from you. 

“Don’t stop,” he murmured against your skin, kissing your throat and licking a few wayward drops of blood that had escaped before returning to his meal.

You made a noise of affirmation and squeezed his dick before continuing to twist your hand up and down, from base to tip and back down again. 

Astarion whined lamely and dug his nails into your scalp and shoulder, which in turn made you moan wantonly. You rolled your hips, trying to find some relief of your own and ended up brushing your clit against the base of his cock. You both groaned in pleasure and you brought your free hand up to tangle into his hair as you continued rolling your hips. 

“Hah,” Astarion huffed sweetly as he pulled himself away from your throat, his cool breath made warm by your blood. He licked at the wounds he left behind and kissed them gratefully before angling his head to kiss your mouth deeply.

The metallic tang of your blood on his tongue sent a chill through your body and you opened your eyes when you felt Astarion’s hands make their way to your hips. You broke the kiss to give him a curious look. 

He returned your look with a blissed out smirk. “I want you to ride me,” he drawled. 

Your eyes widened and the hand that was still working his cock slowed to a stop. 

He surged forward to kiss you again and moved his hands to your ass, where he lifted your weightless form to position you over his length. 

“Are you sure?” you asked. “I thought I was close to getting you off.”

“You were, sweet girl, but I’d much rather finish inside, if it’s all the same to you.”

Your lips quirked up. “I think we can make that work.”

Taking his cock into your hand again, you guided the head to your entrance before sinking down on him slowly. Astarion’s eyes closed in satisfaction and he tipped his head up to the sky, golden light painting his beautiful face into something ethereal. You sucked in a breath and rested your forehead on his shoulder, taking a second to adjust to this new sensation. You hadn’t ridden him yet, nor had you ever fooled around in water, by yourself or otherwise. 

Astarion kissed your ear before encouraging you: “Use me, my love. You’re deliciously warm.”

You nodded and tested lifting yourself up a little and bringing yourself back down. Your mouth dropped open and you adjusted your legs so you were resting on your knees, making it easier to bob on his dick. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you lifted yourself higher and brought yourself down with more force.

“That’s it,” Astarion cooed, “take your pleasure from me.”

“Touch me,” you whined, rolling your hips and picking up the pace of your bouncing.

“With pleasure,” he bent forward to kiss your neck, bringing his hand down to circle your clit. His other hand came up to squeeze your breast. 

“You make me feel so good,” you sighed, raking your nails over the ridges on his back.

“The feeling is mutual, d-arling,” his voice caught when you brought yourself down on his cock. “And I’m the only one who can make you feel this good,” he grazed his fangs across your collarbone. 

“I don’t know,” you said, your body shuddering with euphoria, “Halsin seems like he could give you a run for your money.”

Astarion raised a disbelieving eyebrow at you.

“Teasing, my love,” you kissed him softly before letting out a loud “Ah!” when he started raising his hips to meet yours.

“Oh really?” he asked, his voice coming out like a growl. “You think Halsin could fuck you as well as I can?”

“Hah,” you half laughed, half moaned. “I think technically, in this position, I’m fucking you?” A lopsided grin graced your lips. “But I don’t know, I’m new to all this.”

“Funny,” Astarion remarked sarcastically and pulled his hand away from your clit, making you whimper in protest. 

“Hey!”

“Take it back.”

“Take what back? I already said I was teasing!”

“Say I’m the only one who can fuck you like this.”

You smiled, panting and still riding him beneath the surface of the water. “Are you jealous or something?”

“Hardly,” he rolled his eyes. “But you’re mine and it wouldn’t kill you to remind yourself of that.”

“Sounds an awful lot like jealousy to me.”

Astarion groaned in what sounded like frustration and pleasure. “Do you want to cum or not?” 

You leaned forward and kissed him deeply, moving your mouth slowly in time with the rhythm of your hips. When you pulled away, a string of saliva connected you to his lower lip. 

“Astarion,” you said softly, “I don’t ever want anyone else to fuck me. Only you. For as long as you’ll have me.”

The smirk on Astarion’s face was smug. “Because?”

You rolled your eyes. “Because I’m yours, you stupid bat.” You kissed him, then whispered conspiratorially, “And I like you the most out of everyone at camp.”

“You flatter me,” Astarion said, immediately returning to his ministrations on your clit. You gasped at the contact, which quickly morphed into a moan of delight as you rested your forehead on his shoulder again. His hips rose to meet yours once more and the moan he let out as a result sounded as if he’d been holding it in for a while. Perhaps it was to sound eloquent during your back and forth, but the noise was music to your ears.

“Am I making you feel good?” you asked a little shyly.

Astarion opened one of his eyes to look at you. “My sweet, you’ve only ever made me feel good.”

“I know that’s not true.”

“It’s not, but it is true about the sex.”

“Thank the gods,” you laughed, though you shut your eyes tightly when Astarion hit a particularly pleasant spot inside you with a roll of his hips. “Whatever you just hit felt heavenly,” you relayed to him.

“Good to know,” he said mischievously, and repositioned you on his lap so he could rise to meet that spot every time you sank down on him. 

“Oh, Astarion,” you sighed, a grin overtaking your features.

“You like that, love?” he nipped at your shoulder. 

“Yes,” you sighed again.

Your bounces on his cock were starting to become sloppy as the knot of your climax began to build low in your stomach. You moved your hand to his and reversed the direction he was currently circling your clit.

“I’m close,” you confessed.

“Thank the gods, so am I,” Astarion’s voice was strained.

You opened your eyes to watch him as he approached his own peak and exhaled dreamily at the sight of him, bathed in the orange glow of the sun which was now halfway risen. 

“You’re so beautiful,” you whispered, “and I like you so much.”

“Don’t make me throw up when I’m trying to cum,” he opened up an eye and smirked at you. “You’re not half bad yourself, gorgeous thing.” He groaned when you sat back down on him forcefully. “Now, would you cum for me already? I’m dying here.”

“Almost there,” you laughed. “And you’re dead already.”

“You’re making this very difficult, darling.”

“Let me help you then,” you said, reaching a hand forward and lightly caressing his balls.

Astarion’s mouth hung open in silent pleasure, his fangs glistening in the emerging sunshine. He watched you wordlessly as you leaned forward.

“You’re so powerful,” you purred next to his ear. “You make me feel so good, and you’re the only one who can fuck me this well. The others will never know how good I feel because I’m yours and I’ll only ever be yours. You’re the only one who will ever be inside of me.”

“That’s right,” he groaned. “Your cunt is mine and I love the way it feels around me. The way it grips me so tight. You filthy thing, letting a vampire take your innocence. I could have killed you and instead I brought you the most pleasure you’ve ever felt. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes,” you moaned. “Astarion, please. Need to feel your cum in me.”

“You want this cock forever, darling? Prove it. Prove you want it by cumming for me and screaming my name.”

His command brought you to your peak and you wailed out in pure ecstasy. His name fell from your lips like a prayer, over and over, and your cunt gripped him like a vice, as if claiming it for itself. In return, Astarion groaned loudly and spilled inside of you, moaning your name repeatedly and throwing his head back in rapture and delight.

As you came down from your high, you leaned forward to place sloppy kisses on his exposed throat. He brought both his arms around you and pulled you closer as he returned from his climax. 

“You are-” he didn’t finish his sentence before crushing his lips into yours, moaning pathetically and you giggled in response. He bit your bottom lip with his blunt front teeth before releasing it and peppering kisses along your cheeks and jaw. 

“Go on,” you teased, encouraging him to finish his thought.

He looked as if he wanted to argue, but instead gave in and said, “You’re wonderful.”

The words caught you off guard and you bent forward to kiss him in a way that you hoped conveyed your gratitude. 

“I think you’re wonderful, too.”

“Obviously,” Astarion smirked.

You pushed him backwards, causing him to slip and submerge his head fully underwater briefly.

“My hair was just starting to dry, you wretched beast!” he sputtered, looking appalled. 

“Aw, but you’re so pretty like this!” You brushed some wet hair out of his eyes.

“Um, hello? I’m always pretty, darling.”

“Ah, you’re right, how could I forget.” You gingerly lifted yourself off of Astarion and floated yourself to sit beside him, facing the sunrise. 

“Perhaps you’ve had the lovely head of yours hit in battle one too many times.”

“That must be it,” you agreed jokingly, resting your head on his shoulder. 

He leaned his head on top of yours in return. You sighed happily, enjoying the vibrant hues of the sky above, still filled with the euphoria of your high and the presence of the man beside you.

“I really do like you, so much,” you said softly, accompanied by the quiet lapping of the waves on the shore nearby.

“Ugh,” Astarion groaned. “Let’s not get sentimental, darling. After we just had such an excellent time together.”

You laughed. “Pardon me for wanting to express my feelings.”

“You are pardoned.” He gave you a sideways smile. 

“Thank you, Mr. Magistrate.”

“Of course, beloved citizen.”

You both laughed quietly and returned to a pleasant silence. The sun rose steadily up into the sky and you knew you’d have to head back to camp soon to help pack up, but for now, you were content to sit and watch the horizon with your favorite traveling companion. 

“How are you doing that?” Astarion asked, breaking the silence.

“Doing what?”

“Tickling my thighs. Did you cast mage hand or something of the sort?”

You sat up a bit more to look and snorted. 

“Astarion, my love, I think it’s a fish that’s tickling you.”

“Ah,” he said calmly. Then he shot up, flinging you backwards and underwater. When you came up for air, he was rushing towards the shore, barreling through the water.

“At least it had the decency to wait until we were finished!” you called after him.

Astarion ignored you. “Slimy, disgusting, vile creatures!” He shook out his entire body as if he couldn’t rid himself of the sensation.

You watched him with adoration as he muttered to himself about how irredeemable that particular fish was as he pulled on his pants. It was then that you felt your heart swell with something big and alarming.

Oh no.

You were in love with him. 

Fuck!

[the-moon-files]

So I have tried to request this prompt from someone else but I don't think their blog is that active anymore. If your willing I'd love to request the following.

Prompt: Reader is bisexual and gender neutral.

Reader is considered fairly attractive and gets flirted with pretty often by basically whoever gender wise. And maybe reader and Zelda even end up flirting a little bit. Reader would have a similar lackadaisical flirty personality as Warriors has.

I wanted to see how each of The Chain would react to this with the context of them having secret feelings for the reader.

2nd official request, woo look at me go 🏃💨

Sun: Gender-neutral Reader (”you”/they/them)

Orbit: Headcanons-ish

Stars: Zelda (Assuming they meant BOTW), + the classic Chain of Links <3

Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: mild cussing, mild typical loz violence, Mildly Suggestive, & Trigger Warnings: none known.

Please comment if I missed any. /gen

so i like to think that modern flirting is radically different than their medieval flirting,

like mayyybbeee Wild can handle it, but even then, they have royalty/knights still, so hes still gettin flustered lol

and i like to think u learned that difference the first time Wars complimented ur new/strange modern fit, and u returned the energy?? except 10x stronger (to them)??

youve played the player, and beat him at his own game, the Captain of the knights is sputtering and shit LMAO

(he said smth like, “their beauty is god-like in this otherworldly clothing“ and YOU said smth like he’d “thank you, youd look better in my bed than in armor 👉 😎 👉 ” lmao)

funniest part is, bc its so natural, i can see u immediately shooting off smth and forgetting it instantly, much to the Links collective shock 😭

u go to towns and notice theres always 1 hero around to steer u away from shopkeepers, townsppl, etc so u wont flirt w/them LMAO

(when u finally notice, u just, “ohh i get it now, so im only allowed to flirt with someone named Link, ohhh, okayy” and they just, “NO we didnt say that-!” “No its just their bold flirtations are not for the weak of heart-!” “Yes.” “CAPTAIN-”)

the only one who they cant steer u away from is Zelda.

afterall, they kinda have to inform the Princess/now Queen of the kingdom, whats going on w/them traveling with Link (Wild) around time and space

the sheikah tablet had been disconnecting + reconnecting to Purah’s both fascination and worry

so as theyre invited to eat dinner and explain in the rebuilding castle, everyone’s absorbed in shadow talk or smth, and u can see Zelda’s struggling to follow along, u just casually bring it back to her, as she’s also trying to write notes and theyve moved on too quickly w/o her

“wowww, all these men and not a single one’s gonna offer the lady any, ‘hi, hello, how is the most beautiful girl in the world today?’ “

and the gapingggg from the links shut them right up, while Zelda goes all pink and coughs, and agrees that they should move on to more chill topics lol

and u can crack anybody tbh, Zelda giggles at ur compliments all the time, even in work mode, u can deffo get Wars to blush to his ears, and even Time to look away first in a flirty + staring contest lol

Legend might actually put his hands up like he’s prepared to fight u anytime u try to flirt at him when its just you two, before he realizes what hes doing and stops LMAO

oh and u absolutely get a lot of mileage out of that one lol

the best reactions have gotta be, in order of most to least extreme: Hyrule, Sky, Wild, Four, Legend, Twilight, Wars, Time

Rulie, Sky, Wild and Four fall into that classic, shocked-heart-eyes, full blush up to their pointy ears, etc category when u get them,

they are also very easy to get lmao

Four is the best at recovery, or ducking away, but if its the Colors, its this type of obvious lol, w/the obvious ones like Red and Blue, Green takes a little more to break, and tbh Vio could go toe-to-toe w/u better than Wars tbh before he crumbles under the pressure lol

Legend, Twi, Wars, and Time faces may not change a lot, bc theyre trying to save it lmao, but the way their cheeks go pink and ears twitch is how u know ur gettting to them (along w/legend’s defensive reaction to getting cornered LMAO)

Twi has caved and covered his face w/his hands before lmao

one day youll get Time to break more than an ear twitch, and looking away, One Day.

(Wind is in fact, having the time of his life, watching you absolutely hilariously wreck these otherwise v serious heroes, hes glad u got them to finally relax a little, but also its hilarious seeing Wars and Legend red faces, and occasionally stealing Wild’s tablet to take funny pics of them all to blackmail later lol)

☆

idk how good that was, as im kinda bust at flirty banter between characters, so i hope this suffices ur need to flirt w/everyone lol

also i feel i should apologize for not rlly including pronouns? it just kinda comes w/writing reader stories to put them in 2nd person to both make intimacy for readers w/their little avatar im controlling for them, and to purposefully remove the need for gendered pronouns :/

so im sorry i couldnt quite figure out how to make it where “they/them” got used much, i promise i love all pronouns, its just a skill issue tbh lmao

btw

send any prayers, blessings, or good vibes u got my way tomorrow bc im getting wisdom teeth surgery and i am intimidated✨

ill post more asks (i have multiple asks!! <33) after im lying in bed lamenting my painful fate,

mostly just worried ill react badly to the drugs, also the idea of being knocked out during surgery is a little scary so what can i say

have a great weekend guys!! thanks for reading if u did :)

Peace out,

🌙

[neonluardon]

An Uncanny Dream

Now, I have dreams, some of which tend to involve a character or two. I am a Genshin Impact fan, and I especially like Kaeya. But the dream I had about Kaeya was so uncanny and equally majestic that I never wanted to forget about it. So, I prepared some visuals. I will be using the notes I took the moment I woke up. These notes help me a lot, as I have already forgotten almost all of the details.

Plot: I was the player but instead of controlling the Traveler, I was controlling Kaeya, the story itself was from his perspective. Because of a reason, I cannot remember, Kaeya ended up stuck between the line of truth and delusion.

Kaeya was aware of his existence, his world was pitch black and white. Everything he used to find beautiful now looked horrible, all voices were gone but a music that kept repeating over and over. As Kaeya, I was supposed to run around and ask for help. But no matter where we went, we couldn't interact with a person.

I remembered I had some resin (even in a dream I'm worried about not using resin lol) and decided to fight in a domain. Somehow, although we couldn't interact with humans and animals, Kaeya could harm Hilichurls and other Abyss-related creatures.

Upon defeating the enemies, Kaeya got an artifact. But this artifact didn't have relic bonuses.

The artifact's name was changed to "Memories From Afar". When I tried looking at the description of the artifact, instead of writing a story or giving an explanation, it simply said:

"You cannot go back now. Memories are out of your reach."

It said "Fatal error." too in very rare cases, because I was panicking so much that I kept reloading the screen and expected something else to come. After obtaining this artifact, I never managed to earn another one no matter how much resin I used.

I decided to use this artifact on Kaeya, but when I opened the character screen, all of my characters were gone and only Kaeya existed. And, well, he didn't look very well.

All of his talents were set back to one. His name didn't exist, instead, there was something akin to "X" but not exactly the same. He was a shadow, an "absence" on the game's screen. And his profile icon didn't exist as well. During this moment, I noticed that Kaeya couldn't interact with the others because he literally didn't exist anymore. He was conscious, he tried everything, but all that was left of him was his absence. And for some reason, no one in Mondstadt seemed to notice his sudden disappearance either.

Did the Irminsul Tree get corrupted and erase his information or was he not cared for at all? This was the question Kaeya asked. I was shocked since I didn't expect him to know about the tree and information could get erased from there.

I kept controlling Kaeya but the vision was so vague that the map barely helped, and no, the main menu wasn't opening either. No Paimon, no settings, just Kaeya and his absence.

Then, I remember seeing Dragonspine. Kaeya was here for some reason, lost and confused. But since he didn't exist anymore and all he could talk with was me (the player, not the traveler, he broke the 4th wall) he suggested taking some pictures.

This especially crept into me a lot because, in one of the fics I wrote, Kaeya went so insane that he needed pictures to make sure he did things right. I can somehow feel that by telling me to take pictures, he meant it in a way to "make sure everything is real."

He got mad when he saw the photos and how even they were colorless. He thought that by using an object that "exists" he could get rid of the terrible darkness. The photos also proved that what we were seeing was correct since not even the player could outrun the colorless screen. Yes, he said that. If even I can't change things, there is nothing Kaeya could do, according to him.

This was one of the scariest scenes, to be honest. The map was there but I couldn't understand a thing, everything looked too dark, once the elegant and magical Dragonspine was now sheer nightmare material. We fought multiple monsters. Kaeya was trying to find his way into reality, thinking for some reason that someone could bend his curse, and bring back the colors. It felt cold, too cold. I could physically feel the sheer chillness hitting my face. I remember moving in my bed as the dream continued.

But it came to an end. Kaeya was attacked by a Mitachurl with a cryo shield. We tried outrunning it but the cold killed Kaeya before the monster. I woke up after he died, the "sheer cold" screen was the simplest but most uncanny thing I have ever seen. It doesn't look that terrifying in the gif but imagine seeing this in a dream.

And a silence followed, Kaeya said nothing. I clicked the revive button but it simply said "Fatal error: Character files missing"

But as I stared at the screen, I could also think of a way that could have saved Kaeya. It was Diluc. For some reason, Diluc's flames could cut through Kaeya's corruption and the tides of reality itself. That little cut between truth and delusion could be his escape. But we never found Diluc, and it was already too late when I realized what we could have done. I felt guilty, knowing that he died because of me. And it wasn't a simple death either, he was deleted or his information in the Irminsul Tree got corrupted beyond fixing, erasing him from existence altogether as the only remains of his presence were his consciousness. He died in darkness, in the sheer cold he despised so much.

I woke up. I was mesmerized by this dream and wanted to write it down. But now that I looked at my badly written notes and the scenes I tried recreating, I feel terrible. This dream was one of the greatest things I have ever experienced, it showed just how creative my brain could get but also... how horrifying it can be. I will never forget the sheer cold screen and the artifact of "Memories From Afar".

[saradika]

— WASTELAND, BABY

vi. like the bonfire that burns, that all words in the fight fell to

[masterlist] | [part v]

boba fett x f!reader

rated E - 3k

tags: fallout au, post-apocalyptic, canon-typical themes, mentions of violence & wounds, some reconning of mando s3, flirting, (f) masturbation and lewd daydreams

You never thought you’d want to go outside the city walls, but you find a trip into wasteland isn’t quite so scary the second time.

If you thought you understood busy in this new world - you were wrong.

The last few days had been a blur - setting aside rations, helping pack up supplies. Getting things ready for a long trip, trying to anticipate anything that would be needed.

The settlement just to the east had finally reached out for help, using the last of their caps to pay off the Gunners. Who had promptly disappeared, leaving room for the Raiders to descend like vultures.

The locals had kept them at bay for now, but it was only a matter of time until they grouped in larger numbers, and wiped out their food and supplies.

There had been hours of discussion, something you had not been privy to, but you'd soaked up details from all your running around.

That Boba had agreed to help them, in exchange for absorbing some of their assets into Mos Espa.

The settlement was rich with farmland, pockets of rich earth where the radiation was not as strong. Much better suited than the fields of sand that the Palace looked over.

To not have to travel and trade for crates of mutfruit and tatos would benefit many. And so, you helped prepare.

You had volunteered, even, to help with getting the settlement fixed up. You'd gotten good at that lately - at fixing things.

Carefully watching Din tinker, enough to where he'd been asking you questions more often than not. Armed with your books from the Vault and your Pip-Boy, there were all kinds of schematics to pull up and adjust.

And - and this was something you kept to yourself - the thought of being left alone in the city for a few weeks seemed too much to bear. You'd gotten too used to seeing your few friends, afraid you'd want to stay in your room without them.

That it would feel like being in the Vault, again. Just left to wait.

Funny that being left in a bustling city would make you feel so alone, but for some reason - it did.

Even funnier was the thought of you wanting to leave the city for the Wasteland - something that would have seemed absolutely impossible, all those weeks ago.

And so, you packed your own things. The tools and some clothes, and one of your books. An old quilt, something you had traded for - a prized possession.

Figuring if they didn't allow you to come with, you'd hang back - sneak in with some of the group in the back.

Something you had been right to anticipate - a shadow passing over you, so much like that first meeting. As you had sat on the bottom set at the base of the Palace, adjusting the leather bag, the pouches at your waist.

Boba - always seeming to find you. Thick arms crossed over his chest as his boot tapped against yours, grabbing your attention, "And what do you think you're doing?"

You hand shielded your eyes against the sun as you peered up at him, "Just doing a last check for this afternoon."

"You should stay here with Djarin." His voice was flat, one that he uses in the Palace.

Leaving little room for dispute.

Din - who was also not happy at being left behind.

You hadn't understood the meaning when Boba had told him "it would be good practice for you to look out for Mos Espa", but you had caught the crinkle of amusement around his eyes.

"I want to go. To help." You had insisted, anways. "I've been training with Din for weeks now. I can handle myself."

Unable to help but smiling, "Besides, you'll be there, right? I'll be safe with you."

There had been something in his eyes when you said that. You had meant it light-heartedly, an attempt to ease his worries. A call back to the beginning, how you had clung to his shadow.

It was true - it was something that you trusted. That whereever he went, you wanted to go, too.

Sharp words had cut into your thoughts, "I'll be too busy to keep an eye out for you, sen’ika."

Old you might have backed off. Old you might have just agreed - but taking the first offer isn't something you did anymore.

In the Wasteland, that led to you getting dicked over by traders, those looking to make as many caps as you can.

You had pushed yourself up, the bag slinging over your shoulder. His eyes followed you, that mark still carved between his eyebrows.

"If Din isn't going, you'll need another set of hands that can fix things." You pointed out.

His head had tilted, "I can fix things just fine."

Your lips quirked then, catching him.

"Even if you're too busy?"

It's had been a stalemate, a low creak of his gloves as his fingers curled into fists.

Reluctantly, he agreed.

Not so much in words - still frowning as his gaze had swept across your face, and then down to your bag. Before he gave a curt nod, and you were off and following behind him again.

Joining the group of now five, heading off into the Wasteland. Fennec shooting you a smirk when you pulled up next to her side.

Knowing you’d try to come, not bothering to dissuade you. Knowing that in this traveling party, you’d be fine.

In the rear of your group had been more muscle, two more newcomers to Mos Espa. Returning with Boba some weeks ago, soon after you first arrived.

Rescued from the Combat Zone. An arena of dread, of fighting to the death for caps. Working towards a freedom that was always just out of grasp.

Though you’re not sure if that term recused is accurate. Liberated might be more accurate.

From your quiet eavesdropping while shadowing Fennec, they seemed loyal enough. Given it willingly to the man who had broken those heavy doors down, had rid the room of the Raiders and filth boxing them in.

Bringing three survivors back with him, when it was all over.

Another Ghoul - tall and proud. Charon, with thatch of red hair that matched the visible muscles and tendons at his cheeks. Dressed in dark leathers and who spoke in a rasping growl when he must.

Standing even taller was Black Krrsantan, covered head-to-toe with black fur. It was hard to resist peeking at him in the Palace - you had never met a Wookie before - but the angry scar across his eye and the growling dialect in a language you didn’t quite understand had you nervous to get caught.

The third gladiator had stayed in Mos Espa. A red-haired women you hadn’t officially met - complaining for a moment about missing the fun before moving on. Already forgetting her disappointment, by the time she reached the bar.

That had been over a week ago. After almost a full afternoon of walking to get to the settlement. Less than 15 miles - another thing that had thrown you off about this new world.

No more gas-powered vehicles. Almost everyone travelled on foot - going a little bit slower that that, even, with Boba's power armor.

Something that was needed, if the Gunners or Raiders decided to stop by again.

The trip would have taken 30 minutes, in your old life. Now, it took 6 hours to reach Pika Oasis.

Another name you hadn't remembered from before. Another place that had changed and become its own, in the last 200 years.

A name that you felt was a little exaggerated, when you had finally arrived. Not an oasis, not at all. Barely 20 people, in a place that might be considered a village at best.

It grew on you, though. After the sprawling Mos Espa, the open landscape of Pika Oasis feels like a breath of fresh air. Spanning no more than a mile or two, from end-to-end.

A single, wide dirt road running through it, a splitting off here and there and leading to a nest of houses. Everything building out from an old main street - the remaining storefront set up to sell the local produce and necessities. An old, chrome diner bumping up against it.

If you followed the path out of town, the northern edge met a natural border against a river, emptying out into a lake.

The water was clean there, for the most part.

Generators purifying it further. A tidy field of mutfruit trees tucked off to the side. A much larger field of tatos and carrots that took up an acre of the town, each.

It reminded you of the Farmhouse, on your first week. The thriving farm it had been in your old life. Good people just trying to survive.

And you adapt to the days spent there, just like you had in Mos Espa. Welcoming the change of pace from the busy city.

Enjoying that the help you gave actually made a tangible difference. Seeing the green sprouts poke up the days following your afternoon in one of the tilled fields.

Homes patched up and walls repaired. People feeling safer, with door that shut and floors that are sturdy.

And at night - you're stuffed like sardines among the few structurally-sound houses. Sharing the space with the families that already live there. Bed rolls tucked wherever you could - in a kitchen, or if you were lucky - on a couch.

Splitting watches that run from morning to evening, keeping an eye on the edges of town that are unprotected by the river or the long chain-link fence that follows the far field. Shared with either members of the town, or with those you travelled with.

Morning were spent stopping by the cantina, trading a few caps for a warm meal. Deeply discounted - with how much you're all doing to help - but you always try to give a little extra from what you have saved up. It's your second-favorite part of the day.

Your first-favorite is the evenings.

When the sun dips below the range of hills, when it gets too dark to work. When everyone meets up again, grouping in small pockets, huddling around fires. The warmth from the day turning into a chill that reminds you of autumn, though you aren't even sure what month it is, anymore.

Sharing both food and stories. News from across the Wasteland, whispers traded from travelers passing by.

Descriptions of things seen that feel unbelievable. Some sort of armored crustacean - two stories tall and spitting deadly acid. Mutated bears with razor sharp claws.

And sometimes - in the evening light of the fire, you have your own stories to tell.

Not from before. You don't have the heart to voice those. Preferring to keep the wrapped closed, tucked away in your chest.

But you have the ones that brought you comfort. The ones you know by heart.

Curious eyes peeking over your shoulder as you read one night. Unable to read the words themselves, so the few children had asked. Enamored by the embossed gilded cover, the carefully and colorfully illustrated frontispiece.

Fingers running over the letters and hands pressing into your shoulders to get a better look. A little girl seating herself in your lap with the confidence that only a child has, waiting expectantly for you to share.

And so, you do.

With a wavery voice that slowly but surely grows strong.

Spending more time explaining things than actually reading. Drawing crude outlines in the dust of pumpkins, castles, dragons. Weaving stories of love and revenge and heartbreak, and soon - they aren't the only ones.

There's more faces around the fire. Ones you've been working with, during the day. Your cheek burning as the kids insist on voices - which you do your best on. Deepening your voice for the handsome knight, small squeaks for the mice that come to help the maiden.

A small moment of peace and solace, after a long and hard day.

It’s the beginning of a slow routine. The children gathering around for the next fairy tale as you crack the long volume open. Carefully shooed away by grateful parents as the story winds down.

Night after night, until your spot becomes a fixture.

But he lingers, tonight. With dark, watching eyes as you laughed and smiled - still feeling a bit foolish under his gaze.

Waiting until you're alone until he comes to slip into the rickety chair next to where you sit. Sun-bleached wood with uneven legs. Your head tips up and you smile, as he tilts forward - elbows resting on armored knees.

"It's good of you to do this." Boba tells you, as you shift.

Uncurling your legs to stretch them out on the stone, your back resting against a crate. Preening from his compliment, as you shrug, "It's nothing. It's fun to see them so excited."

"Did you bring that with you from Mos Espa?"

"I did." You tell him, your nose wrinkling with embarrassment, as you rest the book on your thighs, "I couldn't resist bringing it. Especially to somewhere new."

He doesn't say anything, his thumb rubbing thoughtfully over his lip as he hums in acknowledgment. Your eyes drop down to watch the small sweep, before they dart away.

"I'm sure it sounds silly, but these stories are comforting." The flicker of the fire draws your gaze, as you turn to face it. Drawn back into remembering, "My mother used to read similar ones to me when I was younger."

You smile then, a burning ache in your chest, a half-laugh.

"I used to get so sucked in. She'd wind up so upset with me because she'd be talking, and I wouldn't even be listening." The memories of then meld with the ones you have now. A fuzzy figure with hands on her hips. Lying still in her sleep, years of waiting ahead.

Your voice softens, "I was already gone, and in whatever world I was reading about. Used to want a life like that so badly. Like in the stories."

His smile is small, thoughtful. No more than a curve of lips beneath softened eyes. The expression is tender, one you're not used to seeing. One that sends your stomach into somersaults. Your breath catches as he leans closer.

"So, you wanted to be a princess?" He husks, that small smile growing wider as your head snaps back.

"Oh, nothing like that. I’m not-" Your hands come to cover your face, shielding yourself with them as you lean against his chair.

He interrupts you with a soft rumble of his laugh, thick fingers finding your own, and then peeling them back. His hand is so much bigger than your own as he grasps it, for just a second.

“Mmm. Aren’t you?” Boba asks, as his fingers linger - so close to you face.

You don’t have an answer. Well maybe you do - but it catches in your chest, where your heart seems to flutter. A flex of your fingertips where they press down into his skin.

He’s close from the way he curls down towards you - a twist of broad shoulders dipping towards his spread thighs. You face still tipped up, unable to look away.

That moment hovers for just a second, before he's letting go. Hands folding in his lap, but you can still feel the warmth. Lingering, like the way your eyes still are.

A question in his - a moment, before he asks it.

"Are you on watch tonight?"

That tension persists, as your head still rests against the edge of the chair. The light from the fire warms his eyes, and for a moment, you forget what he asked you.

There's the quirk of his lips and a small tilt of his head. A stretch of his legs bumps his thigh against your shoulder, as you blink.

"Uhm, no." You manage. "Not until tomorrow. I was on the morning shift today with Charon.”

Up long before the crack of dawn - the sky still a worn, weathered grey. Time passing quickly even with a near-silent companion - still running through the rest of your duties when you had finished.

"Ah," Boba's eyes flick up to the dimming sun - dipping over the hills. Sounding almost disappointed, as he estimates the time, "You should get some sleep then."

You fight off a yawn at the mention of rest.

Aware again of the bone-tiredness that these full days of work had brought. Not thinking as you use his leg as a support to haul yourself up, until you feel the muscles flexing beneath your fingers - his hand resting on the small of your back to steady you.

"Thank you," Your smile is shy, "I will."

Starting to head back to the old house where your bedroll is - before you're turning. Seeing how his eyes still linger, as he watches you.

"Are you on watch then, too?" You ask. Wondering, hoping that maybe, you might see him.

He regards you for a moment, as if he wishes his answer was different, "No, just tonight. Need to check the full perimeter, there's a spot I've been keeping my eye on."

You wilt a little at that - before wishing him luck.

"Be careful out there."

One that he returns with a smile - a white flash of teeth in the dark.

"Always am, Princess."

Your cheeks burn with the nickname, as you set off towards your room again.

Unable the fight back your smile, once you’re alone.

———

Sleep doesn’t come so easily tonight.

Even with the long morning and longer day, you find yourself tossing and turning.

Moments flick like pictures in your mind. Eyes closed as memories of Mos Espa morph into just memories of him.

That day when Boba first found you.

The Power Armor, when he had stepped from it.

The way he sits on the throne, thighs spread wide.

Eventually idling, on the conversation you just had. On his smile, the way he called you Princess, with that pretty accent of his.

More than aware of how your heart kicks up a beat at just the memory. A twist in your belly that drifts lower, pooling between your thighs.

The name repeating in your mind, the look in his eyes as he had said it. Your hand drifts unconsciously to the place where you throb, the press of the heel of your hand against your clit.

Your hips flex into the touch. A quick glance around to make sure you’re still alone, before your fingers dip beneath.

Muffling a whimper when you slip between your folds, finding yourself already so wet. Dragging it up to circle the sensitive bud, over and over.

There had been no real time for this since you’ve arrived, and now the images from before turn filthy in your aching desperation. Unable to deny the desire any longer.

Kneeling between his thighs on the dias, your mouth open and waiting.

Grinding yourself against the thigh of his Power Armor. His praise low and modulated through the helmet.

The way he filled your doorway that night, wishing that he had just come right back and filled you instead.

Your teeth grit, as you whine. Turning on your side to press your face against the pillow. So worked up, so deprived that your release hits you more quickly than ever before.

Stealing your breath as you tremble, a soft gasp breaking free into the night. Eyes sliding shut as the pleasure pulses, fingers pressing and circling greedily until it becomes too much.

This time - your brain is clear, as you settle down into your bedroll. Those images softening, turning into dreams instead.

Sleep comes quickly, then.

thank you for reading 💚 part vii will be out thursday, the 13th! and if you’d like to get tagged, please fill out the series taglist here!

(0-pressure tags 💕: @spaceydragons, @luladoll, @obiknights, @wingofshadow, @bobathirstaccount, @reluctant-mandalore, @ohheyitsokay, @floral-force, @valentine-tx, @ri-a-rose, @dreamlandcreations, @vellichormybeloved, @writeforfandoms, @winchestershiresauce, @monada43, @rescuethewretched, @thegalaxys-edge, @honeydjarin, @ray-rook, @dumfanting, @bedky, @thirsty-boba-fett-posts, @dukeoftheblackstar, @lifelikefae, @pentaghasm, @izbelross)

[adrift-in-thyme]

This a prompt idea but got 2 paths it could take or just make it 2 sperated prompts.

After wild totk adventure it took 6months or longer a Portal shows up either for the chain to show up there or takes wild to them. If portal take wild to chain they could be in middle of a big fight of monsters and wild shows up and taking out monsters. When battle over twilight the first to recognize wild by his scent hugs and potions go around and they sit up camp and take a out what been going on with shadow and wild new adventure over one of wilds dinner they sorely missed. Now if the portal take the chain to his world they wander around abit trying to find stable or a village mostly heteno where they know that's where link house is so they can try to find wild. While walking on the path to somewhere one of those stone talus with the bokoblins camps on it shows up and some strange contraption fighting it with someone on top of it they can tell who it is yet. The chain joins in fighting the talus and bokoblins after the fight things clam down and the person jumps off the top of the contraption standing stun for a minute not believing his eyes and the chain standing there confused for a minute trying to figure out where they know him from. Twilight broke the slient saying wild name breaking them out of there slients and chain dog piles on wild with hugs after all that's done they past out potions for healing and wild calls on his horse and carriage so they can go to hetano to link house to catch up on the shadow and can talk about wild new adventure.

Thanks for the prompts! <33 I took the “Chain travels to Wild’s Hyrule” route. I hope you enjoy it!

Fic beneath the cut (also on Ao3).

CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR TEARS OF THE KINGDOM

———————-

A parting has always been inevitable.

Twilight has known that from the start. Fate brought him and his companions together—well, fate and the machinations of the Shadow—and fate will someday separate them again. He just didn’t think it would happen so quickly. Or last quite so long.

It’s been six months since the day Wild hugged him goodbye. 

It was supposed to be a simple mission, merely a bit of investigating into the mysteries of Hyrule Castle. Flora had wanted to unlock the secrets of her kingdom with her loyal knight by her side, and Wild had been more than happy to venture into the unknown with her. 

“I’ll be back so soon you won’t even know I was gone,” he had assured him with that familiar, dirt-eating grin. And then with a wave, he had stepped up to Flora’s side, and in a shimmer of blue, they’d been gone.

But Twilight had known his absence, felt it in every bone in his body. Even now he hears his cub’s footsteps or his laughter; sees a flash of long, blonde hair or blue eyes that sparkle with mirth. Even now he waits for the sound of inevitable chaos that follows the champion wherever he goes.

He never thought he would miss that. 

(He never thought he would miss him this much at all. He thought he would be prepared, he thought he would be brave enough to face this. After all, he has coped with untimely partings before. Somehow, past experience doesn’t make this any easier.) 

Six months and not a single sign that he’s even alive. 

Something must have gone wrong. That’s the only explanation Twilight can come up with. No one can say what horrors lie beneath the castle, no one can guess whether or not a mission will go smoothly. The life of a hero is to expect the unexpected. 

Though Twilight knows Wild has had that truth ingrained in him from the start, he also knows that doesn’t make him invincible. Neither does the strength and courage he has seen him display, nor his skill with the blade.

Wild is more than capable. But if something went drastically awry, well…even heroes can bleed. 

Even heroes can die.

There’s little time to fret, however, and even less to entertain visions of his cub, broken and bleeding. (Save for in the dark of the night when there is nothing except the hoots of owls and howls of wolves to keep him and his dreary thoughts company.)

The Shadow has doubled down on his attacks and it’s all the heroes can do to fend them off. 

And then, at the end of a particularly difficult battle, a portal appears.

“Oh, wonderful, another portal!” Warriors exclaims with fake joviality. He grins as he wipes at the stream of blood dribbling down his chin. “This should be fun.”

While Twilight is inclined to agree with the sarcastic sentiment (goddesses know he’s more than a little tired of walking through these things by now), he also can’t deny the spark of hope that ignites within him at the sight. Maybe, just maybe, this one will take them to Wild’s Hyrule.

He’s not the only one thinking that either, he can tell. Tension hangs heavy around the group as they walk through, hushed hope mingling with the usual discomfort of traveling through time and space. 

But when they step out into the dazzling sunlight the weight of their apprehension is shattered.

Rising before them are the unmistakable forms of the Dueling Peaks, silhouetted against the rising sun. Twilight gazes up at them, a small smile lifting his lips. 

Well, I’ll be. We’re actually here.

It doesn’t look much like it did the last time they were portaled there, however. Large chunks of what look like ruins plummet out of the sky, streams of turquoise trailing in their wake. And when Twilight cranes his neck he can see their sources — hundreds of islands suspended in the heavens. 

He frowns, that old worry spiking anew. Those were definitely not here before. 

“Who dumped Skyloft in Wild’s Hyrule?” Legend asks, from beside him. He cranes his neck, peering at the odd shapes with curiosity in his gaze. 

“That isn’t Skyloft,” Sky replies, quietly. “These islands…they look different.”

Wind looks from the sky to his companions, a frown creasing his brow. “So, what happened here?”

“Nothing good, that’s for certain,” Time says, somberly. He gestures toward a spot in the distance where a purple substance oozes from a chasm in the ground. “That looks like Ganondorf’s doing.”

Twilight swallows, clenching and unclenching his hands. Wild has told them of the malice Ganon spread throughout his Hyrule, described the violet strands of pure hatred that had spelled his doom. Could this be that same stuff?

“We should pan out, ask around,” Warriors pipes up. “The people in the nearby villages likely know what caused these changes.” 

Twilight drags his eyes away from the hole to peer at the river winding between the Dueling Peaks. 

“Kakariko is the closest, I think. We can head there first. Then, Hateno next. He has a house there.”

Time nods. “We’ll go to Kakariko, then.” Turning to Twilight, he sets a hand on his shoulder. “Perhaps, they’ll also know the whereabouts of our champion.”

They start off immediately. There’s no need to wait, after all, and Twilight is certain he’s not the only one feeling a sense of urgency. It’s only exacerbated as they travel. Every tale from those they meet along the road tells of trouble. 

Islands appearing in the sky, Hyrule Castle raising from its foundations, chasms opening everywhere throughout the kingdom…and worst of all, a princess and her loyal knight lost to the abyss.

“No one has seen him at all since that day?” Warriors asks a man selling mushrooms.

“No,” he replies with a shrug. “Well, there have been stories, of course, rumors, but I wouldn’t put much stock in those.”

They garner little information in Kakariko either.

“I’m sorry,” says Paya, wringing her hands, “but Link has not visited us since the Upheaval. No one knows where he is…or if he even still lives.”

And so, with worry clawing its way through him, Twilight turns toward Hateno. 

They are still a ways away from their destination when he detects the scent. 

It smells like his cub — woods and rain, soft earth, and fresh new leaves — and he pauses mid-step to peer in the direction it weaves.

“Found something, Twi?” Wind asks, from beside him.

Twilight looks up at him with a slight start. Even now that the wounds the Shadow bestowed are healed and the conversations they spurred long finished, he’s still growing accustomed to his companions knowing his secret. 

He recovers quickly, though, and nods, jerking his nose toward where the trail leads.

Time gestures for him to take the lead. “Then, take us to him.”

Twilight doesn’t have to be told twice. He follows the scent at a jog, stopping every so often to ensure he hasn’t been distracted by the other smells hidden amongst the grass. 

It leads straight to a monster camp.

Twilight stops short as the scent changes direction, abruptly veering upward. It crests a gigantic — and for all appearances living — boulder that stands a short ways away, sporting several platforms of bokoblins. If he squints he can make out a distinctly Hylian form balancing atop it, both hands wrapped around an odd-looking claymore. 

“That’s him, isn’t it?” Legend asks, drily as the person begins pummeling the boulder with a string of repeated spin attacks.

Twilight transforms for a better look. An exasperated grin tugs at his lips as his eyesight clears, revealing a slim figure with a mop of golden blonde hair, dressed in a tunic the same color as the sky. 

“It’s him alright.”

Thank Ordona.

He closes his eyes for a moment, allowing relief to wash over him. And when he opens them once more, his cub is still there, living, whole…and currently in the process of knocking a bokoblin to its death.

“We should help him!” Wind pipes up, already drawing his sword.

“Well, he doesn’t seem to be in need of aid,” Warriors says, smirking. He unsheathes his own weapon with a flourish. “But it certainly wouldn’t hurt to lend a hand.”

The battle is a blur, over before it even really begins. Wild had already been well on his way to defeating the monsters before the heroes had arrived. And it isn’t long at all before the boulder vanishes in a puff of purple smoke, it’s bokoblin riders along with it.

Twilight straightens, brushing off the dust from his trousers, already searching for his cub. 

“Rancher?” Comes a voice he would know anywhere. He turns and sure enough, Wild is there, looking far more haggard than he did from far away (and why does his right hand look so…wrong?), but real and alive. 

“Guys?” His eyes roam over the group, cautious hope within them. “Is-is it really you?”

“It sure is,” Twilight says, already walking forward. He envelopes Wild in a hug and his cub practically melts into him. “We’re here.”

“I can’t believe it,” he chokes, voice muffled by Twilight's pelt. “How…”

“A portal. It appeared and brought us here.”

“We’ve been so worried about you!” Wind exclaims. “It’s been months and we-we didn’t know…”

Twilight holds out a hand to him and the sailor joins the embrace.

“We’ve all missed you, champion,” he murmurs and Wild shudders slightly. He wonders how long it’s been since someone touched him, since someone hugged him.

(He wonders why he is alone once more, why Flora is no longer beside him.)

But there’s no time to ask the countless questions he has. The others are rushing over now to join the embrace. It’s a messy bunch, all limbs and hair and the sound of eight voices vying for attention. 

Twilight closes his eyes and soaks it all in. 

It ends too soon. There are tales to tell, explanations to give (Twilight, in particular, would like to know how his cub lost an entire arm), and the night is coming fast. So, Wild calls his steed.

“I can take you the rest of the way to Hateno,” he says, motioning for the heroes to pile into the cart. “We can spend the night at my house. There’s not much room, but it’s better than sleeping out here, trust me.”

Twilight watches as the others settle in, then turns and puts a hand on the champion’s shoulder.

“It’s really good to have you back, cub.”

Wild grins. The tears he had allowed to fall earlier are now little more than stains on sunburnt cheeks. “It was pretty boring without me, huh?”

Twilight shakes his head with a chuckle. “You wouldn’t believe it.”

Someday, he knows he’ll have to miss that chaos again, and the excitement, the fervor Wild has for life, the joy his presence brings. Someday, he and his cub will go their separate ways. But that day is not today.

For now, he can breathe a sigh of relief knowing a parting is not yet here. So, he sits back, with his eyes on the road ahead, and prepares himself for the crazy tales Wild will soon tell.

[nebbyy]

Hello! I simply adore your writing!! It’s so sweet and the way you write about love is so captivating and beautiful! If you are able to take requests, I would like to make one! Please do not feel pressured to take it if you are busy, take care of yourself first and foremost!

This may be a slightly longer ask, so I do apologise for that! I’ve recently fallen into the Kingdom of Heaven rabbit hole and I do not see a way out, and this is purely going to be a self-indulgent ask based on a rather strange medieval themed dream I had.

Once again, please do not feel pressured to take this request! If you just want to enjoy reading this snippet of an idea, please do so! And I hope your day has been wonderful!

☀️ Strange dream anon

-

The newlywed wife of Baldwin, who is rather quiet and shy at first, the daughter of a lord or a king from a distant country (completely up to you on this one! It wasn’t clear in my dream), who has been taught how to wield a sword and is quite proficient with a weapon in hand after her father realised he would not be able to protect her his entire life, and defence against a weapon is a skill that she would need in a land foreign from her own.

It is a mere handful of months after the marriage that Baldwin has to leave the castle for a matter regarding politics that would take at least three weeks, if not more due to travel. While he is away, the new queen is left without a large number of the knights, who have gone with their king and thus, the palace is very still and quiet. There are of course enough men about that she would be safe, but it is still has a starkly different aura to when it is filled with people.

It is during this time that a group of assassins sneak into the castle at the dead of night, their intent is to murder the queen and her guards to leave a message for Baldwin that no matter how hard he tries, he would never be capable of defending his people (especially those closest to him). A tactic, to weaken him and make certain his enemies and subjects know he is a weak king.

They do not expect however, that the queen whom they’re attempting to kill can wield a sword in each hand and has been prepared to fight to the death from the moment a sword was placed into her hands years ago.

(In my dream I saw the queen silently running through the hallways knocking out the assassins, hiding in the shadows to strike, climbing out a window to get to a higher level of the castle, it was both awesome and rather funny). She gets the rest of the guards to help her, and together they manage to subdue most of the attackers.

Baldwin returns home the next day, exhausted and drained from the travel and stress, he simply wants to spend some time with his wife to forget about the world around him for just a moment, yet when he enters through the gates one of the guards informs him of the attempted assassination on the queen.

Imagine the surprise he felt when enters the castle to see half of the assassins knocked out, and the other half gagged and tied up, ready to be questioned.

And his wife? The worst of her injuries is a bloodied nose that stopped bleeding hours before he had arrived.

-

I’m not certain how to end it, my dream unfortunately stopped here, however I imagine there would probably be a rather sweet ending, Baldwin fretting over his wife after learning from the guards what she did, and his wife becoming more open with him, a much more relaxed and bubbly version of her coming out of her shell.

Thank you for reading!!

Hi anon, thank you so much for sharing your story! I myself find a lot of inspiration in my own dreams, so I'm glad to hear I'm not the only one lol.

As of now, I've been taking a break from writing, but your story is so interesting!! I might just save it up in my drafts for when I start writing again.

I honestly looove the idea of a strong and independent Queen to rule beside Baldwin, he just seems like the type of man to appreciate having such a woman by his side.

Also, thank you so much for your sweet words, it really means a lot more than you can imagine to hear them (or better read them)🫶🫶

Feel more than welcome to share other ideas in the future, I'll be more than happy to read them and eventually save them up in my drafts for the future!!

[thedivergingpaths]

Time is Not Linear

Lucina and the other children are split apart further than they could have imagined, but they still do their damnest to make a good timeline.

Lucina and Laurent are the only ones who make it - Laurent is still thrust five years prior to Chrom and Robin finding each other, ans he hides in the desert, and Lucina emerges as Marth with the Risen invasion.

But the pair begin to see traces of their friends in an already altered timeline.

Cynthia was flung far into the past, further than the rise of the Grimleal, but after Grima's released. To the current citizens of Ylisse and surrounding kingdoms, she is a fable.

Oh, she hunted for the dark dragon, to find who he was ensnaring. She never did, but she was remembered fondly through song and story, and she was a tale of hope to sleeping children.

Inigo landed in Valm a couple of decades before Lucina lands in the past. Ylisse has not invaded Plegia - this invasion is still a few years away - and Valm has not yet been re-consolidated under the conqueror Walhart.

Inigo finds his way into Walhart's inner circle, creating a Valm that is strong but not on a tenuous thread of fracturing and being blinded by the Grimleal. Inigo had Walhart's ear - Walhart knows Validar is a threat who is bringing Grima back.

The Grimleal murdered Inigo a couple years before Lucina landed. Laurent is distraught they missed him, because Laurent could have tried to find any others (and gods, his feelings get worse when they discover the fates of other comrades).

But Inigo created a Walhart willing to be an ally to Ylisse, to Chrom and Robin, in the shadow of a coming monster.

But there are more travelers, more children missing. Where have they gone?

Not all were flung far enough into the past to be on the same path as Lucina. Lucina barely made it to the right timeline, because their lives have splintered the coming future.

Owain landed in a peaceful Ylisse, where he is but a baby without dreams of heroism. He takes the name Odin, and bears the burden of prophecy.

The Grimleal start tearing apart the world with Risen and their workings to fully revive Grima, but there is a hero who knows what they want. A hero who will do anything to prevent the dark future.

His story branches on its own. He is alone. He never finds his family and comrades - and they never learn he is the past and the future. Odin is a name remembered forever when the ashes settle and flowers grow again, however.

Yarne is flung far enough back that there are other Taguel, and he has a choice. He could join them, and possibly die when his mother is a sole survivor of a genocide. It could be peaceful for a time. Or he could hide with his head in the sand, away from Taguel and people. This is a crueler time to be a Taguel, after all.

Yarne could also decide to save his people. He could be brave like his friends have encouraged him to be. He could do it - for the honor of Taguel, for his own pride, and to show his mother long gone he can be a brave rabbit boy.

Lucina and Laurent are dancing around Ylisse in preparation to fight Grima, and Valm has sworn to fight the Grimleal on Ylisse’s - Chrom and co’s - side when a small but mighty army appears made entirely of rabbit Taguel. Yarne could not save his mother’s nest, and Panne had believed she was alone in the world, but Yarne emerges a man leading an army of Taguel ready to defend the Exalt with their lives.

Yarne weeps when he sees Laurent and Lucina, and they embrace him. There is still a chance to find their other friends - they can do it together.

They can kill Grima once and for all.

Morgan appears, amnesiac and from another, darker timeline. They join the fight, and Robin begins to plan how to end Grima once and for all. Robin may also be amnesiac, but they know in their bones they are the key to Grima’s awakening and Grima’s slumber. Even if it is just one timeline, one place in the greater universe, Robin could turn the key the other way.

(In secret, Naga confirms Robin’s musings, and they begin to plot behind Chrom’s back when the fire emblem is restored to glory).

When Grima revives with the soul of a future Robin, Lucina thinks the fight is over. When the future Robin releases three thralls to keep the army grounded during Grima’s flight, Lucina knows they have lost.

Kjelle, Gerome, and Severa are bound to Grima now. Chrom and Robin, and a select entourage go to fight Grima. Lucina leads the fight against her thralled friends, even as it breaks her heart.

Severa is the first brought down by Lucina’s sword. There is a moment of lucidity. Lucina had been convincing herself that they were Risen, they were dead and gone.

But they’re not, and Lucina just killed her friend.

“Thank you,” Severa sighs as she dies. Lucina stops in the fight.

What sort of future is worth doing this?

Kjelle is taken down in a pile of Taguel, and Yarne hears her last words. She begs to remembered for her strength, for her mother to know she didn’t choose this. Yarne holds her as she dies as herself.

Gerome goes to strike down Lucina, when Laurent brings him down with wind magic. Bones crack and shatter. Gerome’s body is tangled with Minerva the wyvern’s. His last words are not heard, but his face isn’t twisted in the pain Laurent would have expected for such a violent crash.

It is not peaceful but there is almost a satisfaction there. A release.

Grima falls from the sky. Robin turns to ash on the wind. The Grimleal fall apart.

Chrom, shoulders heavy, leads the world into a new era of light.

Yarne takes his new Taguel family and disappears into the woods. His mother and her human lover follow.

Laurent and Lucina disappear from the public eye, and then the historical records.

Nah reappears generations later to make sure history remembers what they sacrificed to bring down a monster once and for all. And then she disappears again, fading into her own myth.

Brady and Noire never fall out of the time stream. They clasped hands, and they are desperately afraid to let go. It may release them back into existence, or they will be alone in the endless fall.

They fall, and fall, and fall.

--

Check out my previous post, Macedon’s Twist of Fate, if you like these “what if” scenarios

** DO NOT USE AI ON MY WORKS **

[dk-wren]

Buddy Daddies Headcanons (pt. 2)

Apologies for having to split this post into two parts, but this is how Tumblr works apparently. If you missed part 1, click here. Enjoy the remaining hcs!

8. While being one of Rei's main teachers/mentors growing up and when training, Satoru Kaji had a soft side that he would sometimes show to a young Rei. In certain ways, Satoru acted as more of a father figure to Rei than his actual father. On his 20th birthday, Satoru gifted Rei a knife and anklet band. Satoru explained to him that Rei should always be prepared and have a backup attack/weapon for his backup, and he hoped that this knife would be of use one day and save his life. It just so happens to be the one Rei used to fight him on top of the cargo hangar at the docks.

9. Somewhere in the Kurusu-Suwa-Unasaka household, there's a shadow box that was made after Miri's first Sports Day, filled with all sorts of mementos. It includes Miri's gold medal, the family photo Miss Anna took of the three of them, the scrap of paper that has "かずく" (family) written on it, and once she outgrows it, Miri's cap. After moving out of Rei's apartment, it sits on a shelf for some decoration in their temporary home. But once Kazuki, Rei, and Miri move into their new home above the Diner Nest, it begins to travel from Miri's room, to a hallway, and eventually down to the actual diner. Whenever a customer compliments or asks about the shadow box, Kazuki or Rei will break into a big smile and begin telling that person all about that day and how it truly solidified their relationship to each other as nothing less than "family."

10. At the beginning of the epilogue, the photo of Miri and Misaki is shown framed and sitting on Miri's desk. In that first year they spent all together, Rei and Kazuki never mentioned or showed Miri that photo. It's only after Miri leaves with Misaki (between ep. 10 and 11), that Kazuki brings it back out and puts it in a frame, reminding him and Rei of all the good times they had with Miri and how her returning to Misaki's care is for the best since she can grow up happy (and presumably away from danger). The framed photo is put away once Miri returns to living with Rei and Kazuki, and she is finally given it when they reveal the truth to her of Misaki's passing.

11. The first time Miri sneaks out of their house, she is immediately caught. Kazuki and Rei aren’t necessarily mad at her, just concerned about her safety (getting in and out, as well as while away) and why she needed to be secretive in the first place. Kazuki may or may not also have a slight panic attack that Miri has entered her rebellious phase. Just wanting to meet up with friends (after she’s supposed to be asleep or studying), Miri decides to enlist the help of Uncle Kyu to distract her papas and/or cover for her while she’s away. He does this by paying Rei and Kazuki a visit, calling them, giving Miri tips on how to make it look like she’s still in her room, and on the rare occasion, driving her to and from where she needs to go. While Uncle Kyu gets to be the “fun uncle” in these moments, he loves Miri and knows how much Kazuki and Rei care for her, so even if she doesn’t call on him to help out on one of her escapes, she promises to always text him updates as she leaves her place, meets up with people, and returns home. This goes on for a while before Kyutaro is caught by Kazuki and Rei as he is talking on the phone with them and they overhear Miri’s voice in the background as she gets in his car.

12. Even though they left the organization and that world behind, Kazuki and Rei know they should be on alert for any potential attacks for the foreseeable future. After moving to their new home, above their family diner, and Rei has grown accustomed to mainly using one arm to do stuff, he asks Kazuki if they could get up early one morning and practice sparring with each other. Understanding that it is a way for Rei to build/maintain his stamina, and still unsure if the organization has truly left them alone, Kazuki agrees. They grab some mats and push their couch and coffee table to the side, giving themselves plenty of space to move around. At first, Rei practices his punches and doing reps, then, he and Kazuki begin to spar. Kazuki tries to go easy at first, not wanting to hurt Rei, causing him to complain and tell Kazuki that he can handle it, even after Rei is beaten multiple times. After several more weeks or months of periodic training, Kazuki thinks he's about to pin Rei down again, but Rei surprises him and flips their positions. It's the first time Rei has won one of their fights and they both couldn't be prouder.

Bonus: (This is bonus because I personally consider it more of a musing than a headcanon)

What if the house that Kazuki, Rei, and Miri move into after the main events of Buddy Daddies but before the epilogue, and is featured in the 4th audio drama, was Kazuki's original place (or at least the one he was staying at in the 1st audio drama). Perhaps this wouldn't be the most logical since the organization likely knew where Kazuki lived, especially if Kazuki and Rei were concerned that the organization might eventually come after them. But it's just a thought since it's mentioned in both how much smaller of place Kazuki's apartment was compared to Rei's. I also like the idea of Kazuki finally being able bring his family into this space, somewhere he'd probably given up on that dream.

Kyutaro helped to secure the apartment, not going into too much detail with Kazuki and Rei about how it happened, simply telling them not to worry about it. In reality, Kyutaro quietly let it slip to the former residents that a member of the criminal underground lived there before them, but was forced to flee the apartment after a shoot out, and who knows if there are still people after them, looking for them, and thinking this apartment was still a hideout. Now frightened of what they might have fallen into by staying in this apartment, the residents packed and quickly sold the place. Rei and Kazuki eventually catch word of this and are a little unsure of how to respond. While not completely untrue, and appreciative of finding a new home fast, they both feel a little bad for the unintentional panic and fear they probably caused the former residents.

After settling in for the most part, their neighbors stop by to introduce themselves and welcome them to the building. They inform Kazuki and Rei about what they heard from the previous tenants before they left and to be careful. Both of them laugh and try to convince their neighbors that it is nothing to worry about. In reality, they both know exactly what happened, but are now a lot more prepared should anyone, from the organization or a common criminal, try to enter their home or harm any of them.

[writer-of-various]

ABO AleRudy – It's Always Been You

Note: The request that got the most votes on my latest poll, hope you enjoy!

An omega in the military was rare in many countries, and forbidden in the rest, as they were seen as inferior and weak. Rodolfo Parra didn't let his secondary gender ruin his dream of serving, of getting revenge on those who killed his mother, and perhaps it was revenge on his abusive father and maybe some guilty revenge on his older brothers who left him to fend for himself.

The Mexican Government forbade omegas from joining the military, being part of the government, and even omegas had limited job opportunities. They were seen as housewives, they were to bear children and take care of the home. Rodolfo spent enough of his life doing that, and his best friend Alejandro Vargas, an alpha, has sparked a rebellious stage in him. They had a friend in high school, Valeria Garza, also an alpha, who always managed to get her hands on illegal things, much to the pair's dismay. She was a bully, big and mean but a real sweetheart to Rudy and her family, who she was the last standing alpha of. She managed to get her hands on scent blockers from the US that were illegal in Mexico due to them completely hiding a scent of a secondary gender and even being able to alter it so it conceals the scent and can make someone believe a person is another secondary. Valeria gave them to him for when he's enlisting in the military, and kept supplying him with the scent blockers even after she betrayed him and Alejandro for the cartel.

Rodolfo stayed undercover as a beta until he and Alejandro became Special Forces and they were assigned their own unit– Los Vaqueros. After months of getting to know one another and being stuck in Las Almas, fighting against a common enemy, Rudy trusted them enough to reveal he's an omega. Alejandro always knew and has always supported him, and everything seemed content. Until news came in that the cartel, El Sin Nombre, was hiding an international terrorist in Mexico, planning to smuggle him across the border. Los Vaqueros were given reinforcements by two members of an elite English task force, and the help of an private American military company. They needed all the help they could get with Alejandro and Rudy jumping the border, traveling internationally, finding this son of a bitch and putting an end to a potential third world war.

One small briefing sent trouble to Rudy. They have just let in the Americans, Shadow Company, into their home, their beloved and sacred base, and Rudy felt unnerved with the amount of alphas in the company. Omegas were starting to get bigger careers in the US Armed Forces, but Private Military Companies, Special Forces, and even the Marines still refused to let in omegas. The meeting was simple, just discussing battle plans and back up plans for anything they set into motion, and while Rudy was typing away whatever they wanted him to take note off, a new scent filled the air. Sweet, hints of flowers and cinnamon, fruity overall but there were hints of distress, making the fruity smell sour and bitter. Rudy and Alejandro recognized it, for fuck sakes it was Rudy's scent! He put a hand up to his lower neck, where the scent blocker patch hid under his hoodie, and he noticed that everyone's noses were perked and eyes were slowly, one pair at a time, landing on him.

"Go," Alejandro whispers, eyes wide but his teeth were bared and sharp, ready to protect him at all costs if any men stepped out of line. The rest of their Vaqueros also stood, hands going to their holsters, prepared to kill their guests if they threatened their beloved sergeant major. Rudy left, a fast, ranger walking at first before it turned into a quick jog, then he was full on sprinting to his quarters, breathing heavily and his scent wafted around, hoping to attract an alpha to calm him down. Shame and self consciousness warmed his body and pressure began to build up against his eyelids, and he only broke down when he was in his quarters, door locked and he threw himself into his closet, curling up in a small ball and sobbing quietly. The base had no trace of omega besides him, and with guests he still didn't trust (besides Soap and Ghost, the British Special Forces agents sent to help them.)

Rudy stayed there, his sobs having quieted down to small whimpers and he had no more tears to shed, for now at least. There was a knock on his door, and Rudy figured it was Alejandro checking up on him, so he crawled out of the safety of his closet and went over to unlock the door and open it. The person on the other side wasn't Alejandro, but the commander of Shadow Company, Phillip Graves. Alpha.

"Hey, Sergeant Major, just wanted to check on you. I hope my men and I didn't make you uncomfortable, and we certainly don't give, excuse my language, two fucks if you're omega, alpha, or beta. We're a team, we stick together." Phillip says softly, his bright blue eyes sincere and Rudy can feel his heart beat fast at the small smile tracing the other man's lips.

"Um, yeah, yes, I'm fine. Just...I worked hard for this job, and no one besides my men know about me being an omega." Rudy says, looking ashamed and Phillip bristles at that, hesitantly placing a hand on Rudy's shoulder.

"Hey, don't be ashamed or anything. I've seen you fight, you're a fucking badass. Screw secondary genders, they don't define us." And those words drew Rudy in, he felt that rebellious spark ignite once again and he nodded at Phillip, smiling softly. Before he can say or do anything, Alejandro appears and gives Phillip a glare, stepping closer to Rudy to shield him away from the American.

"Is everything okay?" He asks Rudy, his eyes piercing through his soul, trying to read him, and Rudy rolls his eyes. He doesn't notice how Phillip shifts at that, his blue eyes trailing down his face and down his body, stopping at where his hips are and wanting to reach out and touch. But Alejandro would cut him up, would kill him, if he touched the sergeant major.

"Sí, Ale. Lo siento" Rudy keeps his words short, not wanting to explain any further and Alejandro shakes his head, grabbing his hand and caressing his palm.

"Don't be sorry, Rudy, this isn't your fault." Alejandro notices Phillip's presence and looks at him, trying to remain calm and not scare Rudy off by being aggressive to Phillip. Thankfully the American senses this and gives Rudy a charming smirk that makes him swoon before leaving down the hall, the two best friends standing there with mixed feelings. "Did he do something to you?"

Rudy looks up at Alejandro in surprise, eyes wide before he shakes his head, "No, he didn't. He's our ally, why would you say that?"

"He's an alpha, Rudy. You know alphas outside of me and our Vaqueros are different, they are traditional pendejos." Alejandro says, and Rudy crosses his arms over his chest and his soft features settle into a frightening glare.

"Our secondary genders do not define us. And that's fucking bias, you are traditional, Alejandro. You want to settle down one day at your ranch, with a nice omega by your side with your own pups running around and maybe a dog or two. You have dreams, you just don't act like a dick about them." Rudy slams the door in Alejandro's face and sighs, his fingers fidgeting as he feels anxious and angry. Alejandro may be looking out for him, but sometimes he can be too much. Rudy needs a small break from his colonel, he takes off his hoodie and removes his belt, setting them neatly on his dresser before going over to the bathroom and staring at his neck, where the skin colored scent blocker patch sat. He gently eased it off of his skin, biting his bottom lip and panicking. He'll try another one later on when he goes to the mess hall, but if they don't work, then he's screwed. He can't ask Valeria to sneak him some, she's too busy pushing Alejandro over the edge and he's mad at her for letting an international terrorist into their home. He knows Valeria, she is better than what she's trying to turn herself to be, but was it all just naivety? Was Valeria always this power hungry? He can see her as a teenager, tall and menacing, picking on other teenagers and even younger kids, stealing their money, and her introduction to drugs and alcohol. She never did that stuff in front of him, she and Alejandro were always careful since his father was a drug addict and alcoholic who loved to abuse Rudy in any way possible. But she always protected him, she was always there to hold him and keep him together when it felt like he was falling, she felt like the older sister he never had. So why would she give all that up for the cartel?

"Fuck" He whispers, turning off the bathroom and light and going over to his bed, throwing himself on it and hiding over the covers. He didn't feel like making a nest to comfort him, and he was too mad at Alejandro at the moment, so he opted to try to fight this inner battle alone. He's losing everyone he loves, and he just wishes for once, it's him who dies first to avoid that pain.

~~

After a much needed nap, Rudy tried another scent blocker but it wasn't working, and after a few frustrated attempts at a whole box of them, he gave up. He threw on his hoodie and left his room, barely noticing how his Vaqueros seemed to follow him, making sure he didn't get hurt. They didn't need to be told twice by Alejandro, they were already planning on how to ensure Rudy is safe at all times, and some were volunteering to stay behind during missions to watch Rudy. Rudy is loved by everyone in Los Vaqueros and many civilians in Las Almas, they remember the small boy with big fearful eyes that is older now with a determined expression, determined to bring justice to Las Almas.

Rudy walks into the mess hall, grabbing a tray of food and looking around him, trying to find an empty table he can sit at. He isn't sure if he wants to sit with Alejandro tonight, he still feels angry that the colonel would accuse one of their allies of hurting him.

"Rudy, over here!" A voice calls out, a southern accent lacing it and Rudy smiles, walking over to the table where Phillip and a few of his Shadows sat at. One of them moved away, giving him space to sit and Rudy murmurs a soft thanks. "How are you doing?"

"Good, I just took a small nap." Rudy says softly, smiling up at Phillip who nods, also smiling down at him. The Shadows share a look, knowing smiles on their faces, each one slowly leaving the table to give their Commander and his new interest some space. Phillip leans back in his chair, turning his body towards Rudy and discreetly sniffing the air, his inner alpha going crazy with Rudy's sweet scent.

"I'm sorry if I made you or your colonel upset earlier. I just wanted to make sure you were okay" Phillip feigned innocent worry, his blood rushing south when Rudy put a soft hand on his arm and smiled at him, those doe eyes beautiful and naive– they begged to be tainted.

"Don't worry about that. Alejandro is just...protective of me, we've been friends for a long time." Rudy says, looking around the mess hall and surprised to see Alejandro staring at him. He jumps when a hand touches his knee, blushing furiously as he turns his gaze back to Phillip, wondering if they were seated this close before.

"You smell...amazing" Phillip compliments him with a sly grin and Rudy averts his gaze, his whole face and body feeling warm and there's something else he can't describe. He felt it sometimes with Alejandro, a while ago, but those feelings left when Alejandro seemed desperate to chase females, never a male, regardless of the secondary gender. Alejandro does seem like a straight man, so Rudy knew to just give up in order to not get hurt. Valeria always warned him about Alejandro.

"T-thank you" He mumbles shyly, and Phillip knew he had Rudy just where he wanted him. He let a conversation fall between them, his hand staying on Rudy's knee, occasionally caressing it, sometimes his hand went a bit further up teasingly before returning to its original position. It made Rudy stutter and blush and feel so warm, his stomach holding butterflies that flapped their gracious wings against his tummy. It felt nice to have a conversation with someone besides Alejandro, and when he looked up to where he remembered seeing his friend sitting, he frowned a bit when he found the seat and table empty. In fact, the mess hall was empty of soldiers besides them and the cleaning staff.

"It's getting late, I should get some sleep. We have a mission tomorrow." Rudy says, standing up, smiling when Graves stood and grabbed both their trays. He sets them away so they can be cleaned and Rudy begins walking out of the mess hall, surprised when a large hand grabs his wrist and turns him around, his body falling flush against a much taller and broader one. He looks up, gasping softly when his lips are captured in a soft kiss, arms snaking around his waist and Phillip is lulling him impossibly closer, their heat combining and Rudy moans softly in the kiss. They lean back to catch air, and Rudy isn't sure what came over him. He just knows he was in his room the next minute, his clothes ripped off and Phillip staring him down, calloused hands teasing his chest and mouth sucking marks on his fair skin. Then another minute came and he was moaning behind his hand, eyes rolling back as the alpha fucked him into oblivion, and then he was riding Phillip's large cock, his head thrown back and he shamelessly let his lewd noises fill the room, dancing together in a beautiful melody with Phillip's grunts and low moans.

He only wished he knew what would happen in the next few days, so he could have kept his virginity for a better man.

~~

Phillip betrayed them, all of them, and conducted a blue on blue attack. He ordered his Shadows to capture Rudy, and they almost did when Rudy managed to slip away and ran away into the forests behind the base, not stopping as he ran to a safehouse only he and Alejandro knew of. He couldn't leave his Vaqueros or Alejandro, but he was injured and dizzy, and so close to his heat, he knew he needed supplies and help. He was surprised to see Soap and Ghost sneak in, the latter almost succeeding in stabbing him with a throwing knife, but was thankful nonetheless when they proved their loyalty and helped him plan on how to take the base back and get revenge.

Taking the base back was hard but wasn't impossible, and Rudy could barely contain his scent when he opened the cell door of where Alejandro was being kept in. Soap went in first, which Ghost knew was a mistake since the Scot is an alpha and Alejandro would be alert and triggered. Alejandro indeed was triggered and nearly pounded Soap's face into the ground when Rudy stepped in quickly and stopped him, his soft voice calming the alpha and Alejandro didn't hold back. He picked Rudy up and kissed him, missing the warmth of the omega, the sweet scent, the love and admiration thrown his way when sometimes it shouldn't be.

"Ale" Rudy whispers, eyes wide but full of love and Alejandro nuzzles against his neck, nipping at his scent gland, wanting to leave his mark, but Ghost coughed and gestured down the hall.

"Sorry to break this lovely reunion up but there are more Shadows to hunt down." He says and Rudy nods, gently easing himself out of Alejandro's arms but the slightly older man doesn't budge, instead he sniffles the air and anger begins to make its presence in his scent.

"You're hurt" He says matter-of-factly, and Rudy curses himself for not dealing with his wounds before. Ghost and Soap appear by his side in a blink, the Scot hesitantly touching his shoulder and Rudy hisses, the pain from being thrown around coming back to him. He was running on adrenaline, he couldn't afford to be weak and not able to help Alejandro and his team.

"I'm fine. I need to kill him." Rudy pleads to the three alphas, and Ghost nods, hanging him back his gun, ignoring the glare Alejandro and Soap sent him.

"He's all yours, Rudy." The tall man says quietly, like a whisper of a promise, and Rudy smiles up at him. Soap smiles, knowing a great friendship would break out between the two, but Alejandro felt a twinge of jealousy bubble up. It was all put down when Rudy grabs his hand and leads him out of the cell, handing him a gun as well.

"Let's kill that gringo" He says with a wild grin and Alejandro returns it, a dark gleam in his eyes.

"Let's go."

~~

Killing Phillip was easy, Soap blew the tank up and when the American tried crawling out of the hatch, Rudy went over and beat him brutally to death, curses leaving his mouth in mixes of Spanish and English, his heart, once shattered into millions of pieces, being rebuilt by revenge. Soap had to pull him away when Phillip's head caved in and Rudy made sure to shoot him three times in the chest before letting the Scot guide him back to the others. Valeria, who had been their prisoner for information on the terrorist, nodded at Rudy and he nodded back at her. Her eyes gleamed with pride, her strong alpha scent reflecting her emotions and Rudy's bottom lip quivered but he refused to cry. The knowledge that Valeria Garza would always be there for him, despite them having to be enemies and hunting each other down, made his heart grow with love. He felt loved, by Alejandro who confessed his feelings in one breath, by 141 as they welcomed him and his boys with open arms, and by Valeria, who would always protect him no matter what.

~~

Later that evening, when 141 left for the US, Alejandro had dragged Rudy to his quarters and embraced him tightly, letting out his scent. Gunpowder, leather, whiskey, with a hint of the spring rainfall that would freshen Las Almas for a few weeks. Rudy let out his scent as well, nuzzling against Alejandro's chest, trying to keep his tears at bay but Alejandro knows him. He leans back and guides them to his bed, sitting them both down and Rudy clasps his shaking hands together, a few tears falling as he inhales shakily.

"I...Graves and I had sex the day he and the others found out I am an omega." Rudy whispers, looking away from Alejandro, not being able to see the look of disgust on his friend's face. "I thought he was d-different, I wanted him t-to be different but..."

"Rudy..." Alejandro mumbles sadly, trying to grab his friend but Rudy shakes his head, wrapping his arms around himself.

"I was stupid, I was a stupid omega. I let him take my virginity...I let him make me believe he'll always love me. But he just used me to get to you," Rudy wipes away his tears, letting Alejandro grab him and hold him tight, kissing the top of his head.

"I love you, Rudy. I always have, but I was too much of a coward to tell you anything. I should have, I should have told you so I could have protected you from Graves and anyone who wants to hurt you. I want to be with you, I want to love and cherish and protect you, mi amor." Alejandro says softly, and Rudy looks up at him with wide eyes.

"You...I've always loved you too, Ale. I just, you always chased after women and I thought you just didn't like men in that way. I...I gave up, I didn't want to be hurt" Rudy whispers and Alejandro smiles down at him.

"I was a coward. But I don't want to be one anymore, Rudy. Please, let me love you." Rudy hesitates before nodding, a soft smile tracing his lips.

"Love me, Ale" Rudy whispers, and he lets Alejandro gently lay him down, hands caressing his face and Rudy purrs at the soft touches. Alejandro kisses his neck, removing his hoodie and Rudy helps Alejandro out of his jacket and shirt. He marvels at the sight of the strong, firm muscles Alejandro had, his abs and arms and broad shoulders, everything about Alejandro is strong and alpha. His body goes hot, slick sliding out of him and he mewls softly as Alejandro removes his jeans and boxers. Warm hands touch his inner thighs, Rudy flinching when a finger teases his entrance, rubbing small circles against his lips. He bucks his hips up, mewls leaving him as he gets closer, so touch starved and sensitive, and his mind screams "alpha, our alpha".

"Fuck, Rudy, you're all wet for me?" Alejandro growls out, leaning down to lap up the slick, groaning at the sweet taste. Rudy moans, cumming all over Alejandro's fingers and face, blushing furiously in embarrassment. Alejandro smirks, continuing to lap up his cum and slick, lips sucking on his lips and he shivers, grabbing fistfulls of his hair and tugging his head closer against his pussy.

"Oh yes, Ale, please!" Rudy's moans are music to Alejandro's ears, his dick so hard and he gathers some of Rudy’s slick in his hand and lathers it around his erection. He looks up at Rudy, who nods, a smile tracing those beautiful rosy lips.

"Fuck me, alpha" He says with a teasing smirk, and Alejandro grins, fangs out and he slowly slides his dick in the tight hole, grunting at the heat and welcoming muscle pulling him in. Rudy gasps, grabbing onto his shoulder as his legs spread wider apart, mouth agape as Alejandro continues sliding in inch after inch until he bottoms out, buried to the hilt. He breathes heavily, looking down at the omega to make sure he's okay, surprised when Rudy leans up and kisses him passionately.

"I love you, Ale" Rudy whispers sweetly against his lips and Alejandro kisses his cheek.

"I love you, Rudy."

The night was full of heated love, love they were so afraid of but now embrace, because they couldn't run from fate for any longer. They were destined, they were true mates.

[nesrinslittleworld]

The Most Beautiful Thing In The World Is Love. - Chapter 2

Book: Dracula A Love Story

Pairing: Mehmed x Lale / Mehmed x MC

Characters: Şehzade Mehmed, Lale Hatun, Sultan Murad,..

Important note:

In episode 5 of Dracula a love story season 4, Sultan Murad tells the story of Osman who marries Sheikh Edebali's daugher.

The names of Osman's wives were mixed up, as they refered to the Sheikh's daughter as "Malhun Hatun", when her name was "Rabia Bala Hatun".

Malhun Hatun was indeed Osman's first wife and mother to the future sultan Orhan, and Rabia Bala Hatun wed Osman later on, becoming his second wife. Together they will have only one son, Alaeddin, who will become Grand Vizir.

While I do not like discrepancy, I have decided to keep Murad's quote as it was in the game, so as not confuse my fellow players.

Still I wanted to provide good informations about Historical figures.

Chapter 2:

The past few days had been most tiresome for the troops. At first, they rejoiced at the surprise that their arrival made on the Hungarians. At loss, they didn’t have the time to gather enough supplies to withstand a siege. But then, both sides started to stall, neither wishing to engage the fight. This could soon cause a problem, as more reinforcements might arrive from Europe; and then, the Ottomans would be the ones besieged, surrounded by all parts. 

These thoughts were occupying Mehmed’s spirit as he regained his tent, the second night on the field. While the servants were preparing everything for his ablutions, he continued his train of thoughts, eyeing them absentmindedly.  

It was a good thing that the Hungarians suggested a duel: their victory lifted the spirit of the Ottoman troops, and now the Mehter march could be heard throughout the entire valley. This military music would always remind their enemy that the mighty Ottoman army was close, breathing down their neck, and ready to claim their victory on those lands, as they did on many other lands before.  Yet something was bothering the young prince: Aslan. He had chosen him for his excellent swordman’s skills, but his father had seemed too happy about his victory.

Mehmed took out his caftan, then his shirt, letting his fingers run along the scar on his lower abdomen. ‘Yes, Aslan is a good fighter’ he thought ‘but even good fighters can let their guard down once in a while.’ He stared at the former slash wound with a thin smile, thoughts of Aslan gradually fading away to be replaced by more pleasant ones. He tried to imagine how the days passed in the palace, while they were away. Her slender figure strolling through the gardens in an attempt to pass the time; maybe the sketches she would draw of the beautiful sceneries. Would she sit on the bench by the pound, in the very gardens he designed, to read some treaties? Or would she write letters, only to throw them into the fireplace in her quarters, unsatisfied with the words she would have chosen? Was she praying for them? 

A shadow appeared on Mehmed’s features as he thought. She would be praying for her friends, that was for sure. And write to them as well. His breathing became harsher. But for him, would she pray for him? Would her heart be sized in angst as the days pass without hearing any news from him?

The young man splashed some cool water on his face, not only to wash the sweat and dirt of the day, but also to wash away these thoughts. Thoughts of Lale would make him travel from Cennet to Cehennem in the blink of an eye; she would torment him without even uttering a word, even now, so far away from him.  

He quickly finished his ablutions then hurried to dress when his father got announced by one of his personal guards, before welcoming him with a deep and respectful bow.

The Sultan seemed very pleased with the events of the day, and immediately started to engage with his son about them. Mehmed humoured him by replying from time to time, and by agreeing on Aslan’s victory being a sign of Destiny. But his thoughts remained elsewhere, on Edirne, on her.

“Do you recall how everyone laughed at your dream of conquering Constantinople?” his father asked with a thin smile. “As it would turn out, they were mistaken.” This question alone brought Mehmed’s attention back to his father who, noticing the change in his son’s features, continued with a knowing smile. “You’ve surely heard about our empire’s founder, Osman the First…”

Osman Gazi, son of Ertuğrul; founder of the Ottoman Beylik, a small principality in the region of Bithynia that would soon expand into a magnificent Empire to which he would give his name, as well as the Dynasty that his descendants would create.

Of course Mehmed had heard of him; Osman turned a small principality into a flourishing empire, their empire.

“Little was known about him before. But some old documents were recently discovered.” His father continued. “An old epic poem, dating from the time of Osman. In it were described two of his prophetic dreams.”

“What were the dreams?” Mehmed asked with renewed fervour. “Please tell me.”.

Sultan Murad then started his tale of Osman studying under the wisdom of Sheikh Edebali, and falling in love with the Sheikh’s daughter, Malhun Hatun. 

Osman wished to marry her, and so, asked Sheikh Edebali for his daughter’s hand. But the Sheikh, judging young Osman unworthy of his daughter, refused.

Osman kept on studying with Sheikh Edebali, and one night when he was sleeping at Sheikh Edebali’s house, he had a dream. 

Osman saw himself and his host reposing near each other. From the bosom of Edebali rose the full moon, and inclining towards the bosom of Osman it sank upon it, and was lost to sight. After that a goodly tree sprang forth, which grew in beauty and in strength, ever greater and greater. Still did the embracing verdure of its boughs and branches cast an ampler and an ampler shade, until they canopied the extreme horizon of the three parts of the world. Under the tree stood four mountains, which he knew to be Caucasus, Atlas, Taurus, and Haemus. These mountains were the four columns that seemed to support the dome of the foliage of the sacred tree with which the earth was now centered. From the roots of the tree gushed forth four rivers, the Tigris, the Euphrates, the Danube, and the Nile. Tall ships and barks innumerable were on the waters. The fields were heavy with harvest. The mountain sides were clothed with forests. Thence in exulting and fertilizing abundance sprang fountains and rivulets that gurgled through thickets of the cypress and the rose. In the valleys glittered stately cities, with domes and cupolas, with pyramids and obelisks, with minarets and towers. The Crescent shone on their summits: from their galleries sounded the Muezzin’s call to prayer. That sound was mingled with the sweet voices of a thousand nightingales, and with the prattling of countless parrots of every hue. Every kind of singing bird was there. The winged multitude warbled and flitted around beneath the fresh living roof of the interlacing branches of the all-overarching tree; and every leaf of that tree was in shape like unto a scimitar. Suddenly there arose a mighty wind, and turned the points of the sword-leaves towards the various cities of the world, but especially towards Constantinople. That city, placed at the junction of two seas and two continents, seemed like a diamond set between two sapphires and two emeralds, to form the most precious stone in a ring of universal empire. Osman thought that he was in the act of placing that visional ring on his finger, when he awoke.

“Osman told the Sheik everything about these dreams. Sheik Edebali was amazed and interpreted them as prophecies. The first part of the dream predicted that Osman would establish a vast empire, and his descendants would rule it. The second predicted that one of his descendants would conquer Constantinople. 

After this” concluded the Sultan, “Sheikh Edebali allowed his daughter to marry Osman.” Murad eyed his son with a serious expression on his face.

“If we win this war, Mehmed… You, my son, have every opportunity to fulfil the second prophecy.” This was beyond anything Mehmed had ever hoped to hear from his father’s mouth. Finally, he was seeing him for who he truly was.

“I would do anything for that!” Mehmed heard himself reply immediately, his pulse accelerating at the idea that his father could finally envision such a future for him.

“But remember, Osman was not alone. If it hadn’t been for his wise wife, things could have turned out differently. She was an exceptional girl of remarkable intelligence and a pure soul. She had a significant influence on him and helped him become who he was.”

As his father spoke, Mehmed reflected upon an exceptional girl, who too, helped him change and become who he truly intended to be. The Sultan’s praises for Malhun Hatun echoed in Mehmed’s mind as praises fitted for Lale. 

“I hope you’re lucky enough to find a woman like her… Intelligent and pure-hearted, proud and noble. Not just by blood, but in every way.” Mehmed held his breath as he heard these words. He barely dared to move a muscle. Had he fallen asleep and this was just a dream? Could it be true? He looked away to regain some composure, but could not hide the gleam in his eyes. This idea was risky, but he couldn’t keep quiet about it any longer.

“Someone like Lale Hatun.” He finally turned toward his father, his gaze filled with hidden hope and his heart racing in his chest with excitement. Oh he could imagine her already, in her beautiful red wedding bindalli. Finally he had taken a step toward the dream that had long tormented him: marrying Lale. 

But the expression on the Sultan’s face announced to Mehmed that these hopes were not shared by his father. Like a man waiting for his death sentence, he watched as his father nimbled his lower lip, annoyed.

“Mehmed, I didn’t expect such a thing to cross your mind. After what happened between the two of you in your youth, I thought you knew there could be no talk of your wedding.”

And just like this, his father had crushed his hopes once more. He felt like the earth had opened underneath his feet; like fire was burning him alive.

No matter how much his father would praise his strength, knowledge and battle skill; he still deemed him unworthy. Once more, he was a little boy pushed away by his father; unloved by him. Unrespected by anyone. 

As if things weren’t already terrible enough, his father deemed it wise to add fuel to the fire.

“Besides, I already have a groom in mind for Lale.”

The rest of the conversation seemed like a far away echo that would resonate endlessly in Mehmed’s mind. 

Lale, his Lale, promised to Aslan. Aslan, a slave, was deemed more worthy of Lale than the Sultan’s own son! Mehmed clenched onto his collar, trying to grasp some air. But as soon as his father left the tent, his anger could no longer be contained. 

Wounded, he trashed the coffee table, the chests and all the furniture within his reach. Tears of rage and pain now ran on his cheeks as he unleashed this maelstrom of emotions. The pain was so deep that he wished to tear his treacherous heart from his chest to stop the hurting. 

He hit his chest repeatedly, until, out of breath, he sat on his bed; clenching his head in his hands.

As he rose his face from his hands, his breathing still uneven, he finally noticed something amidst the chaos that was now his tent. A few metres away from him, out of a silken bundle laying on the thick carpet covering the ground, was something resembling a shirt. 

Frowning, the Şehzade slowly rose from his seat and knelt in front of it. Testing the material between his index and thumb, he uncovered the rest of the shirt with the other hand. 

With wide-opened eyes, Mehmed realised that this was no ordinary shirt. And the scent that it carried was all too dear for him not to understand whom the shirt was from.

He religiously unfolded it, and while tracing the embroidery with his fingers, read the inscriptions.

“ We have opened up a clear victory for you. so Allah may forgive you for any offence of yours you have committed previously or whatever you may do later on, complete His favour toward you and guide you along a Straight Road. And that Allah may aid you with a mighty victory.”

There were more of it, embroidered on the talismanic shirt. The 29 verses of the Surat Al Fath were written, in golden threads, on his shirt. But Mehmed would discover them later, as he would read them studiously before deciding to wear the shirt for the rest of the night, and the following day, for the battle.

But for now, all he could think of was Lale, patiently threading every single word into a shirt, to protect him. 

His heart, that seemed wounded to death just a moment ago, was now beating with such joy as if it could jump out of his chest. And through the moisture now settling in his eyes, Mehmed smiled. A sincere and hopeful smile. 

So he was still worthy, after all.

---------

notes: Cennet and Cehennem are the Turkish words for Heaven and Hell.

https://en-academic.com/dic.nsf/enwiki/11865382 (I copied the legend of Osman's dream from there).

https://quran.com/48?translations=131%2C85 ( Surat Al Fath 48:1 - 48:3)

[bracketsoffear]

Hunt: The Most Dangerous Game (Richard Connell) "Big-game hunter Sanger Rainsford and his friend Whitney are traveling by ship to the Amazon rainforest for a jaguar hunt. Rainsford falls overboard while investigating the sound of gunshots in the distance and swims to Ship-Trap Island, where he finds General Zaroff and his manservant Ivan. Zaroff, another big-game hunter, knows of Rainsford from his published account of hunting snow leopards in Tibet.

Over dinner, he explains that although he has been hunting animals since he was a boy, he has decided that killing big game has become boring for him. After escaping the Russian Revolution, he purchased Ship-Trap and rigged the island with lights to lure passing ships into the jagged rocks that surround it. He takes the survivors captive and hunts them for sport, giving himself handicaps to increase the challenge. Any captives who can elude Zaroff, Ivan, and a pack of hunting dogs for three days are set free; to date, though, Zaroff has never lost a hunt. Rainsford denounces the hunt as barbarism, but Zaroff replies by claiming that ‘life is for the strong.’ Zaroff is enthused to have another world-class hunter as a companion and offers to take Rainsford along with him on his next hunt. When Rainsford staunchly refuses and demands to leave the island, Zaroff decides to hunt him instead.

Rainsford uses traps and cleverness to outmaneuver Zaroff, killing Ivan and one of the dogs before jumping into the sea. Disappointed at Rainsford's apparent suicide, Zaroff returns home, but finds Rainsford waiting for him, having swum around the island to evade the dogs and sneak into the chateau. Zaroff offers congratulations for defeating him, but Rainsford prepares to fight him, saying that the hunt is not yet over. A delighted Zaroff responds that the loser will be fed to his dogs, while the winner will sleep in his bed. The story abruptly concludes later that night by stating that Rainsford enjoyed the comfort of the bed, implying that he killed Zaroff in the fight."

End: Shadows from the Wall of Death: Facts and Inferences Prefacing a Book of Specimens of Arsenical Wall Papers (Robert Kedzie) "The book warns of the dangers of once-commonly used arsenic-pigmented wallpaper. The book also contains 86 samples of said wallpaper. Due to the dangerous amount of arsenic in the work, only five of the original 100 copies have survived. Most copies were destroyed by the recipient libraries. Doesn't even need to be a Leitner to kill you."

[ponds-of-ink]

Hypothetical FNAF World 2 Scene: “A Figure’s Ramble”

Got inspired by @pastelpink13’s idea of actually creating a monologue scene for Scraptrap. So, here’s a little writing warmup before I get ready for the big NaNoWrimo session.

Also, all other characters have been made vague on purpose. Mainly because of FNAF World’s pretty hefty roster, really.

-

The four travelers navigated the long alleyway. Their leader guided the others, offering some words of encouragement to those more skittish. And that uneasiness was understandable, due to the grunge and the overall terrifying atmosphere it gave off. Almost as if it was an outdoor lair for some madcap loner to call home. A home said madcap loner would be very easy to protect, maybe.

Despite this, the four pressed on. “We should be close to our next boss battle,” the leader commented, holding out some list on a yellowed sheet of paper. “After that, we’ll be moving on to Downtown!“

A rattling sound caused the quartet to halt. They looked in the direction of the noise, spotting an empty trashcan knocked over. As they passed questions to each other, a heavily-dressed figure emerged from the shadows from the opposite wall. “You didn’t think your trip would be that easy, did you?” it asked in a hoarse voice.

The quartet looked at each other. To be honest, no one knew what to answer to that.

The leader stepped forward. “What do you want?” came the question. “We’re here to fight the mad scientist Dr. Scraptrap! Not some random creepy guy in a blue cloak!”

The figure chuckled darkly. “ I believe your assumptions are a bit misguided, brave one,” he sniggered, drawing himself up to full standing height. “Who’s to say that the one in the cloak isn’t the one you’re looking for?”

Again, the quartet looked to each other. “The guy might have a point,” quipped the toughest-looking one. “He does kinda sound like the one we’re looking for. Intimidating voice, pride as big as a house cat, an entrance that scares the pants off of any normal animatronic—“

“Then why is he wearing a cloak on top of his lab coat?” asked the most fashion-forward. “Wouldn’t he get too warm?”

“It beats having a bag over one’s head,” the rabbit cut in, alerting the group. “That’s one reason I can think of.”

“W-Why would you have a bag over your head?” asked the rookie in a quivering voice.

The rabbit assumed a more defensive stance. Its glowing pupils trembled. “You haven’t heard much about me, have you?” he questioned back, his tone dancing between pain and irritation.

All four party members nodded, this time in unison.

Scraptrap sighed darkly. “Then allow me to introduce myself properly,” he said, bowing low. “I am Doctor Scraptrap. Graduate of The University’s first-ever Mad Scientist Program and former bassist for the Salvage Gang. Alas, I am only renown for one thing in both achievements: my horrendous, mirror-shattering appearance.” He paused to re-adjust his cloak as he returned to his former position. “Never mind the accolades and breakthroughs done for animatronics and specters alike,” he continued in a sorrowful, melodramatic fashion. “Never-mind the band-impressing riffs on my trusted bass guitar, aiding in creating the most locally-acclaimed tunes in this entire city! No! The only truly standout thing is having a face that shatters ten washroom mirrors in mere seconds! Seconds that I timed for someone else’s joke experiment!!” He gripped his head with his hand, letting out a seething hiss through his teeth.

One of the other members timidly joined the leader’s side. “Are…you okay?” was the obvious question that arose.

Scraptrap’s entire body shook. “I will be once I’m done with you,” he growled, forcing himself to return to his battle-ready stance. “Maybe The Big Boss will be so proud of me for wiping you out. So proud, if fact, that the nickname ‘Peanut-Head’ will be erased from this wretched city’s lexicon in a matter of hours!”

The quartet shared one last exchange of expressions. All of them prepared their weapons. “As much as we’d like to help you out, we can’t let your boss win,” the leader explained after powering up. “You’re going down, Doctor.”

“So be it!” Scraptrap laughed manically. “Let’s have this gruesome face be the last thing you group of heroes will ever see!”

And so, the battle began.

[rikerxworf]

‧⁺✧ Worfriker Week 2023 ♡°‧

Day Six: Alternate Universe Title: doubt thou the stars are fire Tags: Library AU, Love Poems, Fluff Wordcount: 3,873

» also available on AO3

Worf’s steps rustle through the windowless canyons of the library like leaves through an alleyway. No visitors at this time of day; it is always quiet this late at night. Not even a raging storm could have been heard inside. Worf welcomes it – he cannot help but think that the books’ ghosts feel better in dimmed light and silence. He certainly does.

However, his steps are fueled by anticipation.

He tells himself he is not pacing, or procrastinating, but purposefully filling up time spent waiting until his human would arrive. There are many things to do, so he could just as well attend to them now. Battle Epos section VI needs dusting. Alternatively, he could clean up the visitant tables, in case his human would want to use them. Tip-top condition.

Worf fetches a cleaning rag to take care of them. As he does, his eyes ghost over the titles of the books he had already picked for his most favorite visitor. He has said he wanted to come tonight. So, Worf has prepared for him.

For his human – the tall one with the dark hair and the starlight smile. The broad shoulders. The wondrous stories and auspicious gaze. When he looks at you, it was as though you were his whole universe –

At least Worf likes to believe so. His hearts are blossoming and whispering sweet nothings to him, whenever his human smiles at him.

You are in love, dearest. This is what it feels like.

Worf knows it’s childish. He has never felt this way before, not for anyone who had courted him. No warrior, no singer has conquered his hearts, no matter their honorable efforts to build a life with him. A proper, dutiful, Klingon life.

And then, one day, this outworlder comes sneaking in here, smiles at him, and Worf finds himself wondering if after all it was a human who had dusted the sky with luminaries. A human who looks as though he knows Worf’s innermost worlds.

Worf halts. He knows that he should fight his hearts’ whispers and that all of this is just a ridiculous infatuation. With a traveler, a Non-Klingon no less, who surely would not stay on Qo’noS for too long. This will be over soon. Then he would no longer be his human. He can enjoy bathing in that smile as long as it lasts, and then forget about it.

He has been telling this to himself for weeks. Just on some nights, a romantic inkling itched him, and then he needs to remind himself. But it’s fine. With all these rationalizations, the situation is under control.

There are many who have wanted Worf before. Fellow Klingons. He supposes he would make for a decent spouse: he is tidy, has his priorities in order, and can make a nutritious meal without the use of a replicator. Some have even called him pretty.

Worf has only ever felt pretty once or twice though – and both times have been caused by a pair of human eyes lingering on him.

There is nothing wrong with being wanted by a human, Worf muses. As long as he would not openly reciprocate, he was in no danger of dishonoring himself so sorely. Humans are not built for a Klingon life after all. Those fragile creatures could never take the force of two Klingon hearts beating and roaring for them. There have been people trying to disprove this, but what had they achieved? Worf has no interest in aligning himself with those… unorthodox mavericks.

No, his path is a different one. The proper one.

His head turns when he hears steps on his left.

“Hi. Sorry if I startled you.”

There it is, that starlight smile.

Worf softens as his world comes to a halt. Finally.

He shows his human back to the visitant tables. Under his jacket, he is wearing a blue wrapped shirt tonight, Worf notices from the corner of his eye. Beautiful.

The sound of two pairs of feet in-between the shelf canyons is nicer than just one. All Worf has to say is, “Follow me,” and his human is bound to his side like a shadow. Worf likes his role as the guide. His human does not know much about Klingon libraries and their mysteries, and Worf enjoys showing him around and eliciting little sounds of awe from him.

There are times when he thinks of his human as a bit inane. There is something clumsy about the way he carries his otherwise graceful body, something that makes him look up at Worf from a tilted head, despite being the same height. With his arms always so weirdly positioned.

Like right now, as he observes Worf putting away some other books. Waiting for him.

It’s… charming.

Worf nods at him.

“All right. Here you go,” his human says and hands him the red leather-bound book from his visit last week.

Worf takes it carefully. “You finished it already?” he asks.

“Yeah,” his human says, “couldn’t put it away. Such an interesting read. Thank you for your recommendation.”

“You’re welcome,” Worf smiles. He has used that phrase more in the past few weeks than his entire life before. Human vocabulary.

Blue eyes shift in front of him. “I think I like this one better than the, uh, thirteenth century one.”

Worf gives him a smirk. His human has a peculiar taste, if you could call it that. Targ hunter comedies aren’t exactly highbrow.

The amusement does not escape his human. “Please don’t mock me,” he laughs.

“I don’t.”

Another smile. “Okay. I couldn’t have borne that!”

“I thought you would appreciate the… change in style,” Worf says truthfully.

His human gives him a shy nod.

Worf almost laughs. He adores this feeling, the playful movements around his hearts, like vines of flowers.

“I, uh, liked the landlady. She was fierce,” his human tells him.

“You will find many characters like her in that epoch. She has a long tradition of that fierce presence you are describing.”

“I see,” his human smiles.

Worf watches him closely, big hands folded so coyly in front of his body. He is large for a human. And persistent. It is a shame they have wasted so much time with Targ hunter comedies instead of –

Show him, Worf’s hearts whisper. Mingling with the voices of the ghosts inside the shelves, murmuring the secrets of the ancient books.

Be a man and read to him what you cannot say for yourself.

He will be gone in a few weeks, maybe even a few days, so what’s holding you back? No one will know!

“I picked a few more stories that might interest you,” Worf says way too loudly, making those nosy ghosts scurry back into their books. He puts his hand down on the table so hard it makes the lamp’s light flicker. His human grins and looks down at the books, then at the stool next to Worf’s. “May I?”

Worf nods. Watches as his human sits down, swinging his leg over the tiny backrest as if to mount an animal.

What a peculiar man he is…

Worf watches him run his big hands over the covers and inhales his tangy scent now that he’s so close. He smells so nice. Inviting, somehow. He smells like he looks, Worf finds as he traces the soft lines of his face with a careful gaze. The dark blue of his shirt makes his eyes beam like the summer sky as they skim the pages.

It takes Worf actual physical strength to keep him from complimenting his human. It would not be appropriate, and Worf did not want to send the wrong signals.

So, he just sits. And looks elsewhere.

Tell him!

It doesn’t work.

He should move away.

“I forgot one,” he proclaims, eloquently, half-gone from the stool. “A book. I will go and find it for you.”

He can hear the smile in his human’s voice when he answers, “All right. I’ll be waiting.”

Yes. He will. And that’s the problem.

The ghosts annoy Worf as he searches some faraway shelf for the false pretense he created.

He is wonderful! Handsome on top! Can you deny it?

Worf growls. For occasions like this, he wished he carried a mirror with himself, to be able to glare at himself.

He randomly picks another Targ hunter comedy from the thousand stories on the shelf. A large shelf, like all the others – walls in this marooned landmark that is the Fourth Library of the First City. A place with no one except him and this wondrous alien creature by the firelamp, Worf remembers with soft hearts as he returns the visitant tables.

The lines of his muscles are visible even through the thick fabric. Worf has dreamed of what it would feel like to have these strong arms wrapped around him – to melt into a touch without reserve or fear, to feel another so closely that he forgets where his body ends and theirs begins. A wonderful, warm security.

But a dream it remains.

He turns the book in his hands with unease. Ponders. Snaps back into reality when his human looks up from the table and flashes him another smile, full of blue starlight and glory and song.

Almost makes you wonder if humans invited smiles. Especially the ones that make it feel like you are the only other person in this human’s universe.

Where’s the harm in a compliment if they were all alone? Worf takes heart and says, “Blue suits you.”

The comment widens his human’s starlight smile even further, reaching to his eyes, his shoulders even. “Thank you. A friend of mine says it does something for me. She’s a Betazoid, so I guess she’s right.”

“She is,” Worf smiles, unable to look away. Those eyes – they shine upon him in a way he has never been looked at before. Like sovereigns one wants to be captured by.

So – ‘a friend’. That is the way Worf wants to speak to his human now too, not as a guide – not as anything but a friend. Friendship is what he will have with him after all, so he should nourish that instead of those… romantic frivolities.

“Here. I have picked this one for you as well,” he says, his voice warm and low to create comfort for his human as he steps closer to sit back down. Sliding right back into their affectionate familiarity.

“Thank you! You’re so thoughtful,” his human says as he takes the book in his hands.

The compliment warms Worf’s chest from deep within. “You’re welcome,” he replies quietly, trying hard not to stare at the long fingers handling this stupid book so carefully.

“What’s it about?” his human asks.

Oh, good question – maybe Worf should’ve read the title instead of staring. He hears the ghosts snicker in their bookshelves when he replies, “Another comedy featuring Targ hunters. I just… thought you might like it.”

Another soft smile. “Thanks.”

This time, Worf returns it.

They read a bit, side by side, just sitting in silence. It is nice. Now and then, Worf steals a glance. But nothing more.

It is different to read together in silence than reading aloud. Still, all of this feels dangerously tempting. But Worf can manage. This time, he will not give in to any impulses.

He will not read to him.

Once, when his human snickers and reads a passage to him, he just… hums. It is only when his human slides away the last book that Worf stars a conversation: “Did you get to see the tlhom chum fireworks?”

His human stretches in the chair. “I did! They were amazing. It’s hard to believe they’re putting on that show every single time. Felt like the finale of a huge festival, not something you do every month,” he says with a glint of conspiracy, appropriate to their solitary meeting. Worf could swear he could see the fireworks in those blue eyes right now. But they look a bit tired.

“I am glad you enjoyed them.”

“I really wanted to see those. Everyone kept telling me about them. Just like the Kannaga Mountains. I’ll be leaving for those tomorrow.”

Worf bites back an ‘oh?’ just in time, which causes him to just… fall silent.

See? See? He’ll be gone!

“I gotta try out those hiking trails, and then maybe pay a visit to the Central Plains. It’s just a three-day trip though, I’ll come back here afterwards for the last day, when my transport arrives,” his human says and smiles at him just a millisecond too long – then his eyes are back on the table. And the stack of books. “These all sound so interesting. If I had more bags I’d take them all.”

Worf breathes in deeply.

Take him there, the voices whisper – read to him, before you lose this chance!

As Worf still tries to rally his strength, his human looks up at him again. “What was it where I found you, the Battle Epics? Can you take me there again?”

Worf’s eyes need a moment to focus. “Um – of course. There are a few volumes in section nine that have been translated.”

“Excellent,” his human smiles, all soft.

Worf’s jaw moves sideways as he stands up, inhaling deeply. “Follow me.”

With the whispers gone, Worf guides his human back into the depths of the library in total silence. Except for their steps. This walk is less pleasant than the first. It leads him closer to the sanctuary, that place of temptation.

But Worf remembers where his human will be going: The Central Plains – where you had been able to see Praxis before its destruction, a beautiful white shadow in the clear sky – and the location of the qeylIS loS monastery, right under the star that Kahless has pointed to when he had promised his return. Many religious texts are held in the monastery’s library. Texts that emphasize the importance of Klingon virtues and traditions.

No outsider may see any hidden texts. Worf must not show them to his human. That is his sacred duty, both as a librarian and as a Klingon, no matter how ardent his desire to read him those stories is.

This was a battle against his hearts. A true Klingon does not dodge a battle or succumb to his enemies without a fight.

But it pains him, to think of his feelings as such – as enemies. What does that make him?

“Can I ask you question?”

Worf blinks, straightening his steps. He is back in the dusty half-dark, breathing in the cold air. It is always too cold in here at night.

“Of course.”

His human’s voice is all soft in-between the high shelves. “I’m not sure how much of it is just people talking, or a spiel for tourists, but… They say there are secret sections in Klingon libraries. That no one is allowed to see.”

Oh, Worf could’ve pushed over a shelf. Just great.

He clenches his jaw and says, “There are hidden rooms meant only for… those who are special. Not many are allowed to enter.” And then, once more for himself, “It is my sacred duty to protect what is held in those rooms.”

“I see. Then it’s true? You’re a warrior monk as much as you are a librarian?” His human’s voice is laced with… amusement, much to Worf’s annoyance. “So, if I were to, say… try my way in forcefully…”

Worf turns to find him smiling at him knowingly.

Oh, he wishes it would be as easy as that! “I would have to fight you,” he says.

“Huh. Better bring my bat’leth next time.”

How relentless this human is! And audacious! Can’t he see that Worf is in conflict? Maybe that is the way of the humans, so agleam with their smiles but so ignorant as to where they shine their lights.

“I cannot show you,” is what Worf settles on. Primarily to himself.

His human nods. “Of course, I can see that.”

Worf hates that he is so troubled while showing him the section in Federation Standard. He cannot enjoy the last evening he will have with his human. Whenever the whispers try to sneak back into his hearts, he growls to keep them away. It makes his human frown.

“I better leave now,” he says when they are back at the reception. “It’s past midnight already. Sorry to have kept you up this long.”

If he knew how many sleepless nights Worf has had to endure because of him, he would not apologize – he wants to say, I don’t mind. I enjoy being with you.

But all Worf does is nod. It is better this way.

“Will you be here next week?” his human asks.

He’ll come back, for you, the whispers promise him. He knows it’s just his own yearning talking, but Worf still cannot help but soften.

“Yes. I will always be here.”

Another starlight smile, weaving its warm light around Worf’s hearts. “Lucky me. Then I’ll be seeing you again, hopefully. If I can make the time.”

Worf swallows. “I would be honored.” He gives him a sincere look. “Have a nice trip to the mountains.”

“Thank you.” His human nods, a glimpse of woe in his twinkling eyes. He holds up his bag of books Worf has given him and says, “I’ll be having it with these.”

“I hope so.” Worf bathes a few moments more in that starlight, savoring it, before giving him a nod. “Goodbye, then,” he says in the outworlders’ fashion.

The human, on the other hand, has a spark light up his face. He slams a fist against his shoulder and exclaims, “Qapla’!” with an anticipating grin.

Worf could’ve melted. Instead, he raises his chin and replies, “Qapla’.” And when his human leaves, it’s like the stars sinking over the horizon.

Worf turns around to put out the lights. But he is frozen in place.

Maybe, he thinks, his human is just another ghost from the dark recesses of the library. Always comes at night, always makes the sky jealous of his beauty. Whispering into Worf’s hearts.

He wishes it would just go away, this specter. To spare Worf of the heartbreak.

Or, even worse, to spare them both – all those smiles cannot be empty, Worf thinks to himself as he puts out the lights. Reading single lines to him in the half-dark. Maybe his human has given him all these yearnings to be held because he wants to hold him.

This is all so terrible. Worf has enough tasks to do in the library as it is. Martok will not be pleased by this week’s work. There is no time to swoon about someone who will be gone soon anyway!

So keep it together! Keep it together!

Worf tries keeping it together by flipping over the table. The fire crashes to the stone ground behind the wood, hissing. But it is unheard over his roar.

Heat rushes through him and settles in his chest. And like a flame, it flickers when he hears that voice again: “Um, sorry, did I…?”

His hair all wild, Worf whirls around to find his human ducking between the shelves with a nervous, raised hand. “I just – Are you all right?”

Worf cries out in frustration, looking away.

But his human’s eyes are relentless. “I’m sorry. I can leave. I just wondered if you… if you had another bookmark for me…?”

Worf grinds his teeth but fails to steady his flames. “Why are you testing me?”

His human’s eyes widen. “Pardon?”

“All this time, you’ve come back here to frolic around. Dancing around my mind!” Worf rushes into his personal space, glaring past the strands of hair that have fallen into his eyes. “You have no honor,” he growls, to the human as well as those ghosts of the night. Might as well say it now. He won’t see him again anyway.

Never again!

His intimidation works reliably. The Adam’s apple of his human bops as sweat gathers on his pale skin. His eyes flicker under the pants of rage from Worf’s nose.

Oh, but he does smell so nice…!

For but a moment, Worf falters. That is all the time his human needs to gain the upper hand: “Am I this obvious?”

Worf’s eyes narrow.

His human’s gaze flickers past him. “Did you flip a table just for me?”

Worf leans back – the audacity! “What? No, I” – he inhales – “You must leave!”

The human cocks his pretty head at him. “Or?” He licks his lips. “Will you kill me?”

Worf stares at him.

Now, you finally understand, the ghosts snicker.

As he averts his eyes, Worf’s jaw grinds sideways, just like his wrists. He must look terribly feral right now. In an attempt to calm himself, he sighs. “I will not fight you,” he lets his human know.

Disappointment shines from blue eyes. “No? That is the traditional way. Isn’t it?”

“No.”

“No?”

Worf growls. “Klingon women attack and roar without humor. Not like the ones in the hunter comedies.”

“I see.”

“Nowadays, many men try to copy their behavior. The traditional ways, as you call them, are getting lost.”

The human licks his lips again, then nods. “I understand. Poetry and flowers, hm? They could use a revival. I wish I could experience those courting rituals firsthand.”

Worf gives him a look. He couldn’t be that audacious. Could he?

But the ghosts beg to differ: Teach him the ways!

Show him the courtship!

Read to him!

The human shifts his large shoulders. “I’ll be out of your hair. Or, well – you know how I meant it.” He sniffs. “Sorry for intruding.”

He tries to shuffle away, but Worf thins his lips, then gives him a smile. “I will not fight you.” With a careful motion, he takes the bag of books from the human’s hand. “I much prefer reading. If you want to stay,” he adds meaningfully.

His human’s face rolls into an intrigued smile, like an ocean’s tide.

It is like a weight falls from Worf’s shoulders when he says, “Come on. Let me take you to the sanctuary.” He extends a hand, steadier now that he is certain they both want this.

His human takes it, warm and rough.

Not ‘warm’ if someone asked him – Worf simply guides this clumsy human through the sacred canyons, lest he’d bump against the ancient shelves. It is part of the touristic courtesy.

So now, there are two shadows crawling through the cathedral that is Fourth Library of the First City. Away from the gaze of the universe, since they created their own.

“I’m Will, by the way. William Riker.”

Worf scoffs. “Of course.”

“Sorry?”

“William. Like the Earth poet.”

“Shakespeare?” His human laughs, a hearty sound that Worf treasures in his hearts. “I guess so. If my memory doesn’t betray me, I could maybe recite a few of his lines for you.”

Worf strokes a tender thumb over his hand, gazing at him as they walk. “I would like that,” he growls.

“You would, big guy?”

Worf smiles. And when they exit the sanctuary at sunrise, full of song and glory, he tells him his name.

[truly-morgan]

[Monster & the beast]

NieYao | Mo Dao Zu Shi Cross-Over AU idea 25-06-2021

[#mingyao monster & the beast AU]

nmj is a demon/monster living somewhat peacefully in his forest. He's what most humans would call scary and ugly, hence why they always run away from him since he's very big and menacing compared to them (also why some try to come to hunt him only to back off when they realised just how large and strong he actually is).

Otherwise, it is peaceful in the forest, most other creature leaves him alone and he can easily find food around the forest.

There's no one else like him (maybe nhs got taken away because he looked somehow human enough, so someone "saved" him from the monster in the forest and nmj was never able to find him back, hopefully, he was treated well).

He did feel lonely at times, but he also knew all he would get from trying to reach out to people would be fear. Then one day, as he wanders around the forest to pass the time, he stumbles on a group of people surrounding and overpowering a man. He feels like he shouldn't get involved in the situation, but hearing the man making pained noises he can't help but act, saving him.

jgy is a man travelling around, finding and selling valuable herbs and treasures. He may or may not be running from trouble of his past, but despite being somewhat pursued he still lives life easily and without trouble, he simply doesn't attach himself to anyone.

then one day he needs some help to cross this dense forest, where it could take a long time without someone to shoot the shortcuts, so he does accept the help of these fellows who generously suggested their help (not without a piece obviously).

and then jgy realises they might /not/ be taking him where he really wants to go, each of them casually flashing weapons and how strong they are, taking great interest in the things he carries (which could get a lot of money too) This is how he ends up with them finally making their move, although jgy does try to fight back, they are a bit too much for him to handles correctly.

This is when nmj enters the game. saving him.

jgy isn't scared by him (to nmj surprise) and is instead rather friendly with him, treating him as if he was any other human. He ends up explaining his situation as he prepares to try and find his way through the forest (wouldn't be the first time he got lost somewhere).

but nmj ends up stopping him, actually guiding him on his journey to the town he's trying to reach.

It's refreshing and nice, to have someone who so casually talks to him, as if nothing was wrong. nmj ends up growing pretty fond of jgy on their couple of days of travelling.

When they finally reach the town, nmj wants to keep going with him, yet jgy says he should stay in his forest, where it is safe and no one (or nearly no one) will bother him. Plus, it would be hard for him to travel with him without being noticed.

But then nmj says he can hide in shadows! So he could always hide in jgy shadow if needed!

jgy ends up accepting since it is actually pleasing to travel with nmj (and teasing him by flirting is really funny, it so easy to fluster the large monster). and so they travel some more like this, going from place to place, never staying for long at the same place.

nmj is slowly falling in love with jgy, something he never did. While jgy suspects he might be getting too attached to nmj, something he never allowed himself.

but how could he not when he enjoys nmj company so much?

Eventually, things about what jgy did in the past do reach him, which he did think nmj would leave him ("I am sure jgy did what he did because of reason" he is told). I don't have any really built plot for that part, I just want monster!NMJ and traveller!JGY to travel around the world and fall in love with each other lajnfkjh

maybe jgy had to do some criminal stuff and fled, and now it pursuing him. Maybe he's not fully human himself. who knows

Original

[3d10fire-damage]

Colors That  Run Highlights 44

quack

After a nice mini-vacation, the party officially reconvened after their respective pirate lore-dumps. Light discussion of those few days took place before they left for Guild City.

(funny because Valor was also right)

In Guild City, Slim purchased a large amount of ginger tea to help with his current physical Predicament. Calypso revealed to the party (to Fea) that she had put in an order for a stained glass window to be installed in the cabin’s sleeping quarters, and the window was now done. It depicted a scene of the party camping out under a sunset. She did this because stained glass is the one type of art Fea can really see. (Also, the back of Calypso’s threatening note from the door had been used as a note for the window by Marlie at the Crafters’ Guild, so Calypso made a new note for the door.)

Valor went to the Hunters’ Guild to learn what it’s all about and ultimately join. Kattie played some music to pass the time, while Slim, Fea, and Calypso prepared some rations for the road, namely buns. Or rather, Slim and Fea prepared buns, and Calypso was a nuisance, as she was put into the world to do.

On the road to Norsom, Valor got distracted during her watch by her hundreds of skin care goos. Calypso slept with her tail curled around Fea’s arm. Shortly after Slim got up for third watch, Fea (gently) got up and informed him that she was feeling strange. Like she was... tired? Sleepy? Slim suggested she try to just sleep, and so she settled in next to her tiefling and... went to sleep. For the first time.

During Fea’s conversation with God, where the rest of the group was in a separate voice call, the joys of Discord’s new soundboard feature were discovered. There were many... many ducks in chat. It was unreasonably funny.

(She did, in fact, come back to ducks. The soundboard was then disabled for the rest of the session. This was probably for the best.)

Fea awoke with a jolt, startling Calypso awake also. She said that she had dreamed and spoke to Thedda (or someone like her), and she was told she could help usher people to peace with her blade. There was someone watching over her-- the gods had finally heard her. Calypso agreed that gods can take a while to get back to you.

ALSO, Fea had somehow produced a DOG made of shadows-- from behind her mask. The dog, named Augustus, would help her usher souls to the afterlife. Augustus can shift to different sizes but generally takes the shape of an Irish wolfhound. As one might expect, Calypso was Hyped.

Soon everyone was awake for breakfast. Calypso tried feeding some bacon to Augustus, and while it didn’t seem to actually work, the good boy seemed to appreciate it anyway. He also can’t speak like Egg can, but he can give kisses, which is just about as good. Fea was able to call him back into the space behind her mask once travel resumed.

In Norsom, the party’s Professional Door Knocker initiated contact with their... contact for the mission. After Calypso fumbled her intro (should’ve said something different from what she actually said), a seamstress named Serena invited them all inside and explained that they need to fight off some groups of bandits that kept harassing the town’s undead population. (Luckily, none of these bandits were associated with Daniel.)

Casvir had apparently gotten hurt during the last raid, so he was resting at his house. Slim went to talk to him (to tell him to stay out of the fighting, dammit) and Eve seemed excited by the prospect of defending the town with the rest of the party. Kattie however told her to stay out of the fighting as well, and it was noted that Eve’s time with the group was probably coming to an end soon, since this was the last settlement receiving a teleportation circle.

Eve wasn’t deterred, however, as she secured rooms at the tavern and then, with the aim of protection (and silliness) refused to let Kattie into the tavern because hey, she could’ve been suspicious, dangerous even! But then Calypso walked up and asked to go in, and Eve let her in without any fuss. Sucks to suck, Kattie

Also, Slim noticeably kept his distance from Casvir, who was smoking a cigarette as usual. Being polite, Cas put out the cigarette, but then Calypso, being a dumbass, lit her own cigarette. Slim scoffed and moved away from her, prompting her to wonder what was his deal. Fea gestured at her abdomen, indicating the gregnancy, and Calypso was like “ohhh, right.” And then kept on smoking.

During the night, the group took on the bandits and defeated them handily (though Kattie was a little distracted by Eve cheering from the tavern). In combat, only Fea could see Augustus (very much in the fashion of a dog) urging the souls from their bodies and off to the afterlife. Despite not seeing what he was actually doing, Calypso told him was such a good boy. Slim shot a bit more accurately than usual, since Casvir was in attendance.

The party let a handful of the bandits get away, with Calypso telling them to “tell their friends” so they’d know not to mess with Norsom anymore (the DM described it almost exactly as I would’ve). After the group had received their pay for the mission, Fea scooped up Calypso so she could go rest in the tavern, even though Calypso wasn’t even tired. Slim told Cas about the pregnancy, and Valor did a little exploring and found some ducks.

With a little bit of time to kill in Norsom, Kattie hung out with Eve while she worked on the teleportation circle. Fea interacted with Norsom’s undead citizens while Calypso, up on a roof, looked on. But eventually, the group went back to Guild City, finally completing the fast travel side quest.

The group vibed at home for a while, doing their usual things. Slim took up his position in the kitchen with his tea, and due to some joke about scissoring (it’s crossed over into the game world...), Calypso took a walk with Fea to explain scissoring to her. Also Kattie and Eve joked about getting a third gnomio for the yard to harass Slim further. 👀

Eve left to pick up the group’s payment for escorting her all around Ibera, and came back with a letter for Calypso as well. Calypso read through the letter, growing concerned, before giving it to Slim. Slim, also very concerned, then read it for the group. Andraya, who had previously been warned, wrote that an acquaintance in Magnin spotted Daniel at the casinos, along with a little girl... with an eye patch. Daniel was seen with a metallic horse and mechanical bulls as well, suggesting he may have paid a visit to Lavolis.

Slim went to tell Thedda about this development, telling her that group did plan on going after Daniel. After scoring some spare metal armor from her (to make more shotgun shells), he also wrote a letter informing the Rangers’ Cavalry about Daniel’s activity. Meanwhile, Kattie Sent a message to Corrin about the situation, since he did say he wanted in on it when the group confronted Daniel. Corrin beefed his replies though.

Slim reviewed bullet wound-treating, and taught it for the first time to Valor and Eve (who Insisted on joining the Breakfast Club for this, no matter how against the risk Kattie was. But hey, she does have high level spells). Fea wondered if Slim could somehow incorporate glass into his gunshots, though ultimately the mad science was vetoed. Calypso wrote a letter to Andraya, telling her that they’d be going after Daniel (but she insisted no one was going to die. For sure.)

That night, Fea offered to stay with Slim while he slept, since he was (understandably) really worked up. Calypso was annoyed (and plainly jealous) about this. No giant skeletal teddy bear for her that night 😔

In the morning, there was pounding at the door. Both Fea and Calypso rose to answer it. Thedda had run over, having just received word that Arepal had been attacked. Once everyone had been told this, they packed their things at the speed of sound and headed out. Slim was silent and grim. (Also I’m pretty sure Kattie kissed Eve “for luck”.)

Arepal did appear a bit worse for wear, though it could’ve been worse as well. There were a handful of covered bodies on the ground, and damaged buildings, though the remaining townspeople were in the process of cleaning up and preparing to rebuild. The group beelined for Maria’s house, where Maria greeted them gratefully. She took the group down into her shelter under a house, and recounted her encounter with Daniel.

Daniel appeared to be resistant to Maria’s bullets, and of course he also had his own guns. The mechanical bulls destroyed part of Maria’s home. Maria also said... that Teresa now appeared very young. She had her old doll with her and she was sitting in front of Daniel on his horse. Daniel had a lot of people backing him up, and when they left Arepal they were heading west. Maria did point out that some of the dead outside were Daniel’s men, not townspeople. 👊

During Maria’s spiel, Calypso grew anxious, and went back upstairs to keep an eye out the windows-- thinking that this might have been a trap. Hit Slim’s hometown, fake like they left, then jump back in when the guard is down. Luckily, Daniel did not make a reappearance.

Given that Daniel and his group were last seen going west, the party’s best guess was that he would be heading for Camon. Assuming that, the party tossed around ideas for how to handle this situation. The general idea was to teleport to Camon, getting there before Daniel, and set up some kind of ambush for him there. Evacuate civilians, prepare the fighters, maybe set up some spells or something.

Perhaps the trickiest part of the whole thing is the prospect of getting Teresa away from the fighting. It’s likely Daniel will try to use her as a meat shield, a hostage. Plus with her in the middle of everything, the party’s AOE attacks present the risk of harming her. But even the best laid plans can be disrupted or ruined entirely, so it was also suggested not to bother with the nitty gritty.

God I hope we don’t die.