#i don't need better armour i just need ALL THE GUARD IN THE WORLD

[crossdressingdeath]

Jaws of Hakkon update: my entire main party (me, Dorian, Blackwall and Cole if you're wondering, I typically prefer Varric to Cole but I am determined to get Cole and Dorian's romance banter before I finish the game) now has guard on hit. We are armoured up and ready for anything, I fucking love the guard on hit masterwork materials. Especially combined with Energy Barrage, which is basically a magic machine gun that now makes my mages tanks. Also both Alaris and Dorian have ludicrous amounts of heal on kill now so they're basically unkillable. Also getting into those tier four crafting materials, very high damage output for everyone. I love endgame weaponry.

[edenesth]

The Key Keeper

Pairing: royal guard!Mingi x keykeeper!reader

Word Count: 1.3k

'Crazy Form' Comeback Special Series | Hongjoong | Seonghwa | Yunho | Yeosang | San | Mingi | Wooyoung | Jongho |

ATEEZ Masterlist

"Mingi, you're injured!"

Your eyes widened in horror as the head of the royal guard shielded you from an oncoming arrow, taking the hit in his back. Gritting his teeth, he reassured, "I'm fine. You go first; I'll catch up with you soon."

Panicked tears welling up, you shook your head and protested, "No, how can I leave you behind?!"

He softened at the sight of your tears, realising that your distress hurt him more than the arrow in his back. To assure you, he smirked teasingly, "What's this? Are you worried about me? I thought you hated me."

Clenching your fists, you resisted the urge to hit him, "Stop, this isn't funny! We need to get out of here together!"

Against his better judgement, he cupped your face and pressed his forehead against yours, "Listen to me, you're the royal key keeper, and these keys should be your top priority. Protect them with your life, and I'll protect you with mine," His heart ached as he saw your teary eyes tremble, "I promise I'll be there with you before you know it. Now go."

Left with no choice, you clutched the palace keys tightly and ran as you were told. Your heart broke as you threw one final, painful glance back at Mingi to see him forcing himself back onto his feet.

Everything happened so quickly. Just moments ago, he had approached you at your workstation, clad in full armour.

"Why are you here, Song Mingi? Don't you have better things to guard?" He rolled his eyes at your sarcasm, "In case you missed the memo, word got out that the pirates are heading for the King's blade."

Your eyes widened at the revelation, "The King's blade? Are they out of their goddamned minds? How ambitious can these fools get?"

He sighed, "As much as I agree with you, we don't have time for idle chatter. We need to secure the blade and move it to a safer location. On your feet now, keykeeper."

Shaking your head in disbelief, you hurriedly gathered all the keys that held access to every corner of the palace, following him as you both navigated a secret passageway leading to the King's treasury.

Just for now, you had to set aside your disdain for Mingi. Despite being longtime rivals in your respective roles – him holding the highest position among male palace staff and you, his female counterpart – the urgency of the situation demanded cooperation. While he focused on the palace's security, your responsibility lay in safeguarding all the keys.

You did your best to remain civil, but his incessant commands were testing you, "Could you move a bit more quietly? It's almost as if you're trying to tell the whole world where we are." He hissed, shooting a frustrated glare in your direction.

Suppressing the urge to retaliate physically, you scoffed, well aware that engaging in a physical confrontation would be futile given his status as the strongest guard in the entire palace, "If my presence is such a burden, why not assign someone else to guard me? You could be safeguarding the King himself, but no, here you are..."

He halted suddenly, causing you to collide into his back with a yelp, "Hey! Why'd you—" Your words were cut short as he turned around, casting you an intimidating gaze, "Wishing the general was here with you, huh? Dream on; he's happily married."

Your jaw hung open at his victorious smirk as he continued on his way. Battling the surge of embarrassment, you reminded yourself that your crush on the renowned general was merely a passing infatuation. After all, he was currently deployed in the war zone, accompanied by his devoted wife.

How dare Mingi bring up that old crush? It was just innocent admiration, and you certainly weren't the only one captivated by the formidable military leader.

Before you could reprimand him for his unprofessionalism, the unexpected attack unfolded. It all happened in the blink of an eye; the only memory etched in your mind was him swiftly wrapping a protective arm around you, turning you away just as he jolted from the impact of an arrow piercing his back.

Now, tears streaming down your face, you fought the urge to run back to him. The sight of him being hurt affected you more than you had anticipated. You never knew you would ever be capable of feeling this way for him, considering how you were constantly at each other's throats for as long as you could remember.

He always found a way to get on your nerves, and you couldn't stand the sight of him. So, it bewildered you why your chest now throbbed with worry for him. Perhaps, in the face of his sacrifice, you realised that there was more to your daily banter than met the eye.

If only you knew how much jealousy flowed through the royal guard's veins whenever he thought about your stupid crush on the general, how much he enjoyed watching the fire in your eyes during your endless silly exchanges, and how much it scared him to think about the danger you were in when he found out about the pirates.

Yes, he could have assigned someone else to protect you, but he didn't trust anyone to keep you safe. The mere thought of anything bad happening to you before you were aware of his affection haunted him. He couldn't fathom forgiving himself for such a failure.

When he saw the genuine concern you displayed for him, a glimmer of hope kindled within him. Perhaps, hidden beneath the surface, you felt the same.

Before reaching you, Mingi made sure to eliminate every single trespasser; he would die before allowing any of these imbeciles near you. A sigh of relief escaped him as he recognised that these were merely amateur pirates; the situation might have taken a perilous turn if the notorious pirate king had been involved. Fortunately, the captain wasn't foolish enough to attempt robbing royalty.

"Hey, it's safe now. You're safe."

Springing up from your crouched position, you dropped the keys in your hands without a second thought, rushing to throw your arms around the royal guard's neck as soon as he entered the treasury. He held you close and wondered if you could sense the rapid beating of his heart.

You sobbed miserably against his shoulder, "You idiot, you could've died out there!"

He chuckled, feeling his heart melt at your worry, "Why? Would you miss me if I was gone?" The question left you momentarily silent, prompting you to pull away slightly and face him.

"I..." You blinked rapidly, attempting to change the topic, "H-how's your injury?"

Dismissing your concern, he shook his head, holding you firmly when you tried to check his back, "I told you I'm fine; my armour shielded me. I'm not hit directly."

"But still—"

Cupping your face with both hands, he made you look at him, "Stop pushing me away! I'm in love with you, okay?" Your movements stilled, and he reached to wipe away the tears you shed for him.

Frowning, you protested, "That's a lie... if you were, why'd you annoy me all the time?"

He broke into a smile, "I thought it'd be the only way to get your attention."

You scoffed, "Well, that's just stupid."

He grinned, retorting, "But it worked, didn't it? You can't fool me; I know you care about me too."

Left speechless, you felt your heart race when he leaned closer. Your breath hitched as your noses touched, and he whispered, "I was afraid of losing you."

You nodded in defeat, finally admitting, "Me too, Mingi. Me too."

That was all the confirmation he needed. Without hesitation, he finally kissed you, just as he had wanted to for so long.

While you were engulfed in each other's embrace, some of the royal guards arrived just in time to catch both of you in a flustered state, grinning knowingly. Unbeknownst to you, the entire palace staff had been placing bets on the two of you all along. It appeared that everyone would have a lot to celebrate soon.

✨ Bonus ✨

"You know, you may be the keeper of all palace keys, but I'm the only one with the key to your heart."

"Oh, shut up, Mingi."

Aaaand that's a wrap! Hope the final part's decent! Also, damn, Mingi's been wrecking me lately like what the actual frick. Man definitely knows what he's doing to us.

From the bottom of my heart, thank you for reading every part of this series! Do let me know which member's part is your favourite! Don't be shy, I'd love to hear all about it!🤭

Tag list: @aurasblue @marievllr-abg @itsvxlentine @minghaoslatina @huachengsbestie01 @evidive

All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.

[emotionallyattachednerd]

Firefly | RotB Bumblebee x f!human reader | NSFW 18+

Word count: 1200+

Warnings: Smut ( size difference ) and human on top of her bug. NSFW 18+.

Notes: Bumblebee is my favourite autobot. Trying to keep my requests within 1000+ just so I don't get too carried away or burn myself out too much. So far so good I think, maybe. Lets see how I go with the others. Thanks for sending in @lemon-and-lime-hq. Enjoy. 🥰

I found this very useful and I highly recconmend to check it out. They have done amazing and useful work. ❤️

☕ Coffee

"Bee! Look at them all! An't they just beautiful?" You beam brightly as you lay against Bumblebee's chassis, snuggled up against him on this beautiful night with the unexpected yet alluring visitors.

It's date night for you and Bumblebee. He's been staying with Noah and Mirage while taking a break from missions, and he gets to be closer to you as well before he needs to meet up with Optimus again.

Now, on this night together, the fireflies we're all out and lighting up around you. You don't see them often, so this was a special treat.

"From ten thousand lightning bugs." Bumblebee sings through his radio making you giggle gently from one of your favourite songs.

"With so much shit in this world you've got to admire its beauty as well, what lives here, the innocent lives that bring such an amenity to us. So pretty." You coo in delight while leaning into Bumblebee more, admiring the surrounding glowing insects.

"Your smile makes me happier." Bumblebee always admires your alluring smiles, they bring such warmth to his spark, seeing you calm and happy.

Turning your head you face him on a better angle and lean closer, softly kissing the side of his mouth guard and savouring his soft vibrations of delight. He might not use his voice, but you enjoy his radio chatter and his ability to find everything through that.

Moving your hand you lift the shirt off your head, tossing it aside and wiggling out of your skirt and settling yourself back down.

"Daaaaaaamn." Bumblebee admires the black lace you wear as he traces his thick digits across them and against your skin.

His reaction makes you blush while leaning your body against his touch, letting out a low moan as your body breaks out in goosebumps. Your fingers trace over his yellow plating, up over his chassis and gently curling against both sides of his neck cables, earning you a satisfied rev from his engines.

Moving your hands you reach behind and unhook your bra and sling shot that across the grass. Your breasts are in view and your perk nipples harden under his eager touches. The fireflies hovered around and some landed against your skin making Bumblebee coo gently.

"Heavens above." He praises. They do tickle your skin a little but you decide to allow them to hang around during your coupling. Above all, despite his size, you have been able to take his spike before. The very thought makes your heated core throb under your panties.

Your hand descends and you start to rub yourself inside your panties, circling your clit with your thumb while pumping your fingers into your depths, curling against your walls and stretching yourself while planting kisses against his armour.

Bumblebee responds through lingering revs and moans, optics flickering through the growing pleasure that was boiling through him. He retracts his panel and you gasp as you feel the long throbbing length drag against you.

"It's been a while, huh? You're so eager." You whisper through your heated breaths before removing your hand from your core and slipping out of your panties.

"So fricken eager baby."

Now naked, you knew you were perhaps rushing slightly, but you can't help yourself as you take hold of his throbbing spike and position yourself on him, pressing down against his tip before feeling yourself stretch around him.

Gasping you slowly take inches at a time, feeling the ridges drag past your lips and against your inner walls, every throb sending gentle shockwaves through your body. The intense arousal that blooms through you only grows hotter as you take more of him, feeling his metal frame quicker before stopping half way and letting out a long moan as you give yourself a moment.

"Fucking hell. Bee, so big, so good! You're so fucking huge!" You cry out in bliss as you rest your hands against his chassis, clenching down on him as his servos hold you steady around your smaller body on him, wanting to be careful and not hurt you.

"So tight!"

Letting out a wide smirk, you caress your hands across his face before taking hold and slowly start to rock yourself on him, letting out short whimpers with each aching fill provided. You feel every throb and ridge rocking through you, your depths accepting more of him each time you sink back down, your hand moving to your belly where you feel his spike pressing up against you over again.

Feeling the lump gave you such a high, a desire to be filled by him always, to feel the lump and to be filled with his fluids so deeply. You're not crazy, you're simply in love with your robot boyfriend who you wanted to be with forever and always.

Most of the fireflies still hang around, not minding what was happening at all as they land on you and Bumblebee to join the fun. You can't help but giggle through the burning pleasure and glee, loving the glowing sight they provided on each of you.

Bumblebee's optics flicker more, his moans increasing as he holds back his overload. Again, it's been a while, so you're not too far off either from cumming around his twitching spike buried deep in your core as you ride him eagerly.

Your juices flood over him, leaking out onto his armour as you feel the warm leaks of his trans fluids soaking your channel. Moving your hand again you rub your clit gently, whimpering more followed by a loud mewl as you toss your head back, riding him harder and panting through your hammering heartbeat.

"Oh fuck! Bee! I'm close...so close!" You chant your warning to him as you feel yourself about to break loose on him.

"Come crumbling down!" You hear him answer, seconds before he jerks his hips up into you, spike twitching and erupting thick ropes of fluids deep within you, filling your belly where there's a small round lump formed. His sounds were so mechanical, machine like, and you are freaking addicted to it.

All the fireflies suddenly burst off your both during your orgasim and overload, leaving it just the two of you than on this beautiful night. Guess you both kind of scared them away.

Unleashing yourself you cum around him, clenching hard and crying out in bliss as your body convulses against him, planting yourself against his chassis where you pant heavily, breasts rubbing against his warm metal as you catch your breath while letting out soft murmurs.

"I just had sex!" He sings, making you snort a giggle.

"That we did. So good Bee, you're always so good. I'll love you forever my yellow bug. Will you love me?"

"Loved you yesterday, love you still, always have, always will." Bumblebee speaks a quote fondly that makes you blush more.

Gently, he helps you off him, laying you against his chassis and soft blanket he had brought on your date. You lean up and kiss his cheek plating, before nuzzling yourself against the blanket and his warm metal, silently thanking whatever gods were real for making you so damn lucky.

"I love you, Bumblebee." You whisper fondly.

"I know." He answers that silly famous Han Solo quote that you can't help but giggle lightly through your tired state.

You are very lucky indeed.

[cozycottagetarot]

First Impressions Reading

Notes--

Hey, it's been a while!

I've been MIA for practically a year due to work, poor health, and school. Thankfully, I've recovered from the aftermath of working that job, I'm still figuring out my health, but my studies are almost officially over leaving me with time to get back into tarot reading once again (yay!).

I've kind of changed up my reading style so if you're familiar with my old readings I'd love to know what you think of this style vs my old style. I don't think it's that different, but who knows.

Anyways, I think that's all the housekeeping for today. The usual disclaimer is at the bottom, enjoy your reading!

Pile One

Hi Pile One! So just an fyi, I feel like what I’m picking up on in this reading is multiple first impressions? I know that doesn’t sound like it makes any sense. But your reading I feel picks up a lot on your person’s past at first and then a romantic/companionship first impression later? Like a friends-to-lovers kind of thing.

Right off the bat I feel like your first impression of your future spouse is startling. As I’m shuffling the cards are jumping out, I’m get startled, I’m trembling. But it’s not necessarily in a bad way. Looking at the cards, the ‘vibes’ are complex. The cards flip over but stay hidden in the deck. Oddly enough, it’s not the cards with negative connotations, but positive ones. Like your person hides the better parts of them… maybe in the name of vulnerability.

When you meet you can sense they're healing from something upon first impressions. Your person may have walked away from a lifestyle that many would desire or some kind of association with wealth that was actually killing them from the inside out. From your first one-on-one interaction, you can tell that the wild inside them that’s had to escape and survive gets triggered easily. It may show up in their work or their self-talk. You can see they’re trying to fight their inner battles, but they may need a friend to help them do so.

You may meet them at the end of a significant period of healing for them when they have to face the heavy stuff of their past. You may feel like their perspective of life, be it all of it or one aspect, isn’t very fair. I don’t want to say they have a pessimistic view of life in general, but maybe their life in particular. To you, one bad thing happening doesn’t mean the end of the world but for them it does. Initially, you might not think they care to hear what anyone has to say but that is untrue. They might simply be off in their own world as most of the people on the cards are looking down or turned away, yet their cards symbolise openness and communication. For some of you, your person may just be shy and it’s easy to pick up on in your first meeting.

When the time comes to show interest in a romantic/companionship relationship, they might approach the subject gently. They’d want to be your knight in shining armour (as in they want to take care of you even though you can handle it yourself), but they recognize that as much as they’ve made progress, they still have some healing to do. Once they’ve gone through the darker stuff, they have a much lighter energy to them. You can see it in their appearance, habits, speech and general demeanour. You may notice that they are more spiritual (by your own personal definition). For some you may drift apart briefly (a couple months) and when you reconnect you gather that they’ve become dedicated to growing and nourishing their peace. You may also pick up on a wisdom that they’ve gained from their healing journey.

Pile Two

Pile two, I am loving you person’s energy! This person is calm, cool and collected. They’re not one to tell out all their secrets and they are 100% in their power. There are a lot of hands in the cards as well as imagery of fencing to enclose something. Your person may quickly and easily give off vibes of being guarded as people may chase after them and what they offer.

Your person gives off vibes of being hardworking and they definitely are. However, you can tell they work so hard one of the first thoughts to cross your mind will probably have something to do with “they’re gonna burn out if they don’t relax”. Them burning out isn’t something that happens often tough and when they do, they hide it well. People, yourself included, may wonder how this person can juggle so many things at once so well. They’re resilient and indulge in their many tasks in moderation, even when it means pissing someone off. They know their limits and that’s something that will be evident to you when you meet.

Communication seems to be a big factor in how they make an impression. For pile one *spoilers* it appeared that one of the ways they get their impression from their person was based on what their person was saying. For you, it’s how they say it. Your person has excellent communication skills and has prominent leadership vibes. They may work in a position that requires them to lead multiple groups or teams, or at the very least, you can see they have the qualities of a good leader.

First impressions for you most likely show this person is well off, and honestly a bit of a person of desire. They don’t pay people much mind though. You can tell if you want their attention you have to show you’re genuine. People either want them in a romantic sense or for the material things they have to offer. For some of you, they may work in finance as a manager for company accounts.

Some way somehow, you may be able to tell they’re crafty… in a clever sense and/or as in literal crafts. They’re creative but in a practical sense. This person is the type of person who gathers ideas from EVERYTHING and can make an inconvenience work for them. You may also gather that they’re someone always looking for a way to improve themself.

From the first conversation(s) with them you can tell they think about their legacy and what kind of impact they want to leave behind.

Pile Three

Your first impression of your future spouse is less about them specifically and more about the general feeling.

I think for many of you, this person might come into your life when you’re least expecting it. They feel fated… You’ve got the Wheel of Fortune so it’s like meeting this person was going to happen regardless. They most likely will feel like the start of a new beginning. It’s not a prominent feeling, but you will be able to recognise that something inside you shifts.

Your person is someone who upon first meeting changes your perspective. For some, they may spark the desire to improve in some format. They may be older and/or wiser, but you can tell it came from hard work and hard life experiences. Yet there’s a gentleness to them, as though all the things they may have endured only made them softer. They may seem too good to be true. You or they may be going through a transition in life. An unbecoming, I hear. Some of you might need to make a decision and this person helps influence it.

Your feelings/impression of this person— You can tell this person is respected. They’re level-headed and a good communicator. They’re someone you can connect with on many levels instantly.

I feel like there’s not much to say about this person. It’s kind of a 'when you know, you know' type of situation. Meeting them is like an exploration of yourself as well as them. Generous and gentle, they may do a lot of volunteer work. There’s a homeliness to them and an unspoken strength. They’re someone you can lean on.

I know I’ve said it already but the energy of this person feeling like & being a fated new beginning comes through very strong.

They could also signify a fiery romance, adventure and passion. The energy they exude resembles letting loose and not caring what someone thinks. They may influence you in this way, inspire you to be authentically you. From the first meet, they’re a leap of faith.

No specific thing comes to mind because last minute I got the lovers. Just a heartwarming feeling for you all about this person.

Also, they’re physically attractive, not just by your standards though. Most people would see them and agree they’re pleasant to look at. (Someone tell me if that’s how they interpret physical attraction as well lol).

Pile Four

*Minor Language

Okay so meeting in a kitchen or the medical area immediately jump out at me. Of course, that’s not the only scenario in which you could meet but it definitely comes through the strongest. For some of you, this is someone you know and have been trying to outrun for a lack of a better word. You may think you’re polar opposites but I don’t think you are. Taurus energy comes through strong, so they may have strong Taurus placements. You and your person may be similar. But there’s definitely that vibe of ‘oh great, you again.’ kind of enemies to lovers.

Brief story time to help you paint the picture. The 'polar opposites but not really' remind me of my sisters. Both of them are a Taurus. They always clashed when they were younger. Sister A would complain about Sister B as if she didn’t do the same exact thing Sister A was pissing her off with. It was equal parts annoying and amusing. However, now that they’ve kind of ‘separated’ and both reshaped themselves in new environments, they’re closer than ever… but they’ll never admit it willingly. If you’re still with me, hopefully, this will help make the rest of the reading make more sense.

So I had to redo your reading because I couldn’t interpret the cards clearly the first time around. However, I was definitely picking up on the whole enemies or at the very least ‘mutual nuisances’ to lovers first time around. I had also picked up that this could be an LGBTQ+ relationship for a few of you.

You most likely have a prior impression of this person or you two just don’t click upon meeting. The first scenario comes through strongest so that’s the one I’m reading, but of course, interpret as you would like. In the situation where you meet again, you may be frustrated with them initially, but you two have to come to peace, most likely for a business endeavour or something career-related it seems.

I see you keeping your eye on them though. They seem trustworthy but you know what they were like in the past. If it’s a completely new person, you can pick up that they may be a bit of an ass. You might be very in your head about them after your ceasefire and at some point have to take a step back and assess yourself. Some of you might know this person from as far back as childhood. You might notice this person has actually grown a lot and come to the realisation that you have to hold them to a new standard.

Some of you, you may be jaded towards this person because they broke your heart. You may be exes or there may have been a third-party situation where they chose something else over you. It could be a person that was the third party, but it feels like it was you or an opportunity and they picked the opportunity over you. Maybe the same opportunity leads to them coming back to you better.

Your new forming impression of them seems to be one of reluctant admiration. Whatever successes you see them with now, they’ve worked hard to earn and you can see it. It’s in their work ethic the effort they make in how they carry themself. You’ll notice how intuitive this person is and/or how fast they think on their feet. They’re mentally agile and can handle what is thrown at them quickly and with ease. They could be very creative and adaptable or they may inspire creativity in you.

Disclaimer: All readings and tarot/blog games are for fun and entertainment purposes only. It is in no way meant to act as or replace professional advice of any kind. You know yourself and what’s going on in your life best so I ask that you trust yourself above all else. Finally please take only what resonates from the reading which may be some of it, all of it, or none at all.

[gomzdrawfr]

[oc x cannon rambles]

OKAY. Continuining from this.

New Au that originates from Royal AU -> Isekai Royal AU

more rambles/lore/fic/explanation/art below (compiled it into one post so i dont spam yall's tl with my bs LMAO:

[wARNING: big sad, MCD(Raven), angst, death, violence, injuries]

In the ending of Royal AU, King!Price married another Queen and had a kid, Royal Guard!Raven got promoted to Commander, they go their separate ways for the sake of the nation

The kid, aka the Princess, has everything Price had, the exact blue eyes and all except she was blonde like her mother.

She was rather fond of Raven, and always sneaked out to find Commander Raven despite Raven warning her not to.

Raven's still a softie though, so in the end, she ended up growing soft for her.

Until it all falls apart.

First it was a scream, and before she could register it she was bolting towards the voice.

It was the lil girl's scream.

She regretted not wearing armour that day, but somehow she managed to escape with the Princess in hand, stumbling down to the deeper part of the woods that was safe for now.

"Shhh...don't cry Princess....you're safe now"

Raven coos the trembling young Princess, her poor face pale from the shock and bruises on her delicate skin.

Lost count of how many arrows were on her back, she knew it was only a matter of time before it will take its full effect.

Poison arrows, the fletching bearing a black greenish gradient.

It was an assassination attempt on the young Princess.

"R-Raven...Raven I'm scared...."

"It's okay, it's okay...don't be scared....help's on their way..."

"Papa...I want Papa!!"

"......"

She sighs quietly, it stings, not from the arrows itself, but...from the weight of it all.

"I want your papa too....Princess"

She mumbled in a dazed, blood loss and her dizziness making it hard for her to decipher if she was thinking, or talking out loud, one thing she is certain was she can no longer hunched forward as she slumps to the ground.

"R-Raven? Raven!"

"....listen to me well...lil one..."

"...your papa....the Emperor...your majesty...is a great man..."

"he was a man who loved with all his heart...."

"your papa loves unconditionally....and the one thing he loves most in the world...is you"

More sniffles were heard from the lil girl, who were shaking worse than before, Raven reaches her hand out in an attempt to calm the young lady, only to smear some of her blood onto her pretty pink dress, she frowns at that...but...she was tired...

So so tired...but she kept going.

"....papa may be scary sometimes...and he scolds you...or punish you...but it's for your own good"

"....papa is also very kind...when he needs to...he bought you the tiara you really wanted...remember, Princess?"

"y-yes...I love it..."

"that's right...and you are a pretty girl...pretty eyes like your papa...yeah?"

Raven smiles, the pain subsiding into a blur

"and you have the brightest smile...don't cry...Princess...because a smile suits you better...please?"

She knows this is all wrong, that the poor princess will be traumatized forever because of this.

But the Princess was obedient, and smiles through the snort and tears.

Raven chuckles quietly, nodding weakly.

She'll be alright.

"...treasure your papa...Princess..."

Her eyes closed once, twice...and it was getting harder and harder to open them, or to hear anything else, not even the sound of horses gallop that was getting closer and closer

"...do it for me..."

And then she was swallowed by darkness

In her last moment, she watched a couple sitting side by side, she knew this scene.

The last time they were allowed to be with each other.

"Maybe in another life..." "I'll look for you in every single one of those lifetime" "yeah...you'd that for me, birdie?" "mhm..." "just remember...I love owls" "pretty vague if you ask me..." "you'll know it when you see me" "....that I can guarantee..."

The scene before her morphs into nothingness when she tried to reach out for it, a blinding light forces her vision to go white as she struggles to move.

When she does open her eyes again, she was heaving, sweating and....grabbing the air?

She blinks a few time, this doesn't feel like dying, wait-

She quickly sat up, and realise she was in a room, dimly lit but there were light at the balcony, she dash towards it, opening the windows only to be greeted with something she wouldn't expect.

She recognise this place...the ocean, the city, the flags, the castle- this castle-

How the hell did she end up in the Umbralis Citadel? [bear with me here i literally cannot come up with names of places LOL]

She quickly strolls back to her room, stopping before a mirror as she glanced at her reflection.

A Princess.

She has reincarnated as the Veil Princess.

=================

anywyas yeah thats sort of the fic SO the premise for the first art itself is moreso Princess Raven who managed to finally see King!Price after some careful planning and such, took the opportunity and meet him.

At first she gaze from afar, because she got emotional seeing him after...after everything they went through (she didn't even get to say good bye to him before she died).

Her attire choices was deliberate, although she was already rocking the modest, simple look since as the Veil Princess, no one really pay attention to her (she's the youngest in the royal family).

So she finally approaches him...AND THE STORY BEGINS-

[justarandombrit]

36. “I'm lost without you.” - Curtwen (Spies Are Forever)

Owen had had a lot of partners in his line of work. Or, depending on how you want to look at it, he'd had none.

If you'd have asked Owen how many he thought he'd had, he'd have, a, grilled you on who you were working for and why you would need that information, and, b, told you he'd only had one.

Sure, he may have worked with some of the most talented agents from a dozen countries, but there was only one man who Owen Carvour ever considered a partner, in both senses of the word.

Agent Curt Mega of the American Secret Service, with his confidence and charm, and the self-assured swagger that would usually tip Owen off to an egotist, was the one man Owen ever truly trusted.

Where Owen was sharp and brusque, Curt was witty and charismatic. Where Owen was disconnected and reserved, Curt was proud and extraverted. Where Owen was meticulous and calculated, Curt was hasty and reckless. Where Owen was cold, Curt was warm.

They were the ying to each other’s yang, and who could blame darkness for falling for light? As it turned out, quite a lot of people.

Owen shook off all thoughts of his and Curt’s secret, and the potentially disastrous consequences of it getting out. He needed to focus on the mission at hand, besides, that would never happen.

Slipping soundlessly past a couple of security guards, Owen ducked behind swords with blades the width of his forearm, and edged around various maces and antique guns. He didn't even entertain the idea of taking one with him, he knew his own pistol packed a punch far greater than any he'd find in this museum.

He also knew Curt definitely would've. In fact, due to the gap on a table a small dagger should definitely have filled, he suspected that Curt already had. Right. Curt. He was supposed to be rescuing Curt.

Owen blinked as hard as he could, he knew Curt was waiting for him, and he desperately needed to snap back to reality.

He pulled up his watch, yet another piece of tech far superior (and more top secret) than any other in the building, maybe in the world.

He'd spent enough time perusing through the floor plans for the museum that he didn't really require the map MI6 provided him, but it never hurt to check.

After a few seconds, he'd verified his route, and from there it took no time at all to make it to the room he assumed Curt, and, incidentally, the secret weapon plans he'd stolen, were located.

Ever melodramatic, before slipping into the room Owen applied a quick fake moustache, just for the hell of it.

He took a deep breath and flung open the door.

Half an hour later, Curt and Owen were careering down the corridors and halls of the museum, dodging cabinets full of anachronistic firearms, and occasionally pushing the occasional suit of armour behind them to shake off their pursuers.

Curt had taken about three wrong turns in the span of ten minutes, which Owen thought was less a reflection of Curt’s intelligence, and more of a testament to how few resources A.S.S supplied its agents with.

However, he couldn't be too mad with the organisation, as it did mean Curt kept having to lean over his shoulder to check Owen’s map. Or, even better, rely on him for directions.

“It's the–” Owen glanced at the floor plan. “– second left!”

Curt fired a bullet over his shoulder, causing the man chasing them to fall to the ground.

“Thanks, O, you're a lifesaver… literally. God knows I'm lost without you,”

If Owen had been the type to get flustered, he certainly would have been now. Instead, he set his jaw and pointedly avoided eye contact.

“You can say that again,”

18/5/24

I don't know how I feel about this one. It was a bit long, and my first time writing from Owen’s perspective so it's kinda clunky, but it's not the worst. Also, THROWN IN BACK LIKE A BURLAP SACK-

[slugdragoon]

RPG Role Analysis Series #5 - Dragon Quest III vs. Final Fantasy I vol.I

It's time to do a bit of compare and contrast! I want to talk about Dragon Quest III, but I think we need to compare it to Final Fantasy I, because they have such a similar structure, and together are so foundational in the JRPG world.

Dragon Quest III was released just two months after Final Fantasy I, so I don't think they influenced each other much. The Wizardy series was already on IV around the same time, and Ultima IV had come out years earlier, and many of the classes in Final Fantasy and Dragon Quest III are analogous to those games, which in turn are taken from D&D.

Despite this, the chosen classes for each game have so much overlap! FFI has six, which each have a promoted class, but each class promotes only to that advanced class and can't change mid-game. There is also no main charater, your four party members are equal and your party composition can be anything. DQIII on the other hand allows you to choose your three party other members at will mid-game, but you always have to have Erdrick, the protagonist.

Warrior (FF) / Warrior (DQIII) - The damage-dealing knight in both games. Both Warriors are tanks that wear the best armour and swing the strongest weapons, their job is to hit things and stay alive long enough to push through damage. In DQIII however, the Warrior cannot learn Magic, whereas the FF Warriors' promotion, the Knight, can learn low-level White Magic, making it a bit more of a paladin sort, actually. There is no further distinction in FFI of access to spells than the level of spells a job can access, so all low-level White Magic is available to the Knight, meaning they can heal (single or multi-target), deal holy damage to a group of undead, increase allies defence and evasion, or reduce incoming fire and lightning damage, making them have a role in supporting the party as well as dealing damage.

Monk (FF) / Fighter (DQIII) - FFI monks and DQIII fighters are more similar than the Warriors in that in both games, neither can learn spells, including The Monk's Master promotion. Both wear no armour, and no weapons (except claws can be used in DQIII without penalty), and hit hard weaponless, but are left as glass cannons due to their lack of armour. FFI monks emphasize being faster than other classes, and DQIII fighters have a higher critical hit chance, but the main draw of both is that they save the party money by having one fewer member to buy expensive items for. In addition, they can reach their maximum potential better than two Warriors who would compete for the same rare/unique swords. This is especially useful in DQIII, as a Hero-classed Erdrick will always need this gear. These early games don't have monks do especially monk-like things, like have any special fighting abilities, their job is to be low maintenance, above all.

White Mage (FF) / Cleric (DQIII) - Both classes have low physical stats, but aren't as helpless at using weapons as the Black Mage/Mage. They won't deal your main damage, and have to be carefully guarded, but it won't be completely worthless to attack normally when no one needs healing (which is great, as their magic does not focus on damage either), and won't necessarily crumple instantly, but should be carefully guarded. Both types can heal, revive, do multi-target damage for a large MP cost, reduce incoming magic damage, buff (evasion and defence for White Mages, agility for Clerics), and heal status effects. The DQIII Cleric can cause sleep status and debuff enemy defence, wheras the White Mage can only dispel defences (not truly a debuff, which is the realm of the Black Mage). The Cleric also has instant death spells, where the White Mage can protect against the same from enemies.

Black Mage (FF) / Mage (DQIII) - Both the DQIII Mage and the Final Fantasy Black Mage have pitiful weapon attack power, as they are meant to only attack using spells. In DQIII, items exist to cast spells for free, which gives the Mage something to do without blowing all their MP. The Mage can buff party defense, the Black Mage can caste Haste, and both can buff party attack, both cast elemental damaging spells, and slow enemies. The DQIII mage get a lot of the dungeon traversal utility spells that carry over from the protagonist of DQI and the Prince of Cannock in DQII (and some new ones), as was as a magic reflecting spell and some polymorphing. The FFI Black Mage has instant death spells and status effects like blind and stone.

The DQIII mages have more of a mix of spells probably influenced by the roles of the Prince of Cannock and Princess of Moonebrook. The result is that the Cleric feels more like a D&D Cleric, with about the same level of offensive options, and the Mage feels more like a D&D Wizard who learns a variety of spells with different functions, including niche utility cases. The Final Fantasy ones really focused down on having the White Mage do purely beneficial effects to the party and the Black Mage do purely detrimental effects to the enemy (exception:making other people hit them harder), and fully exclusively own those roles.

Damn my posts are so long, I'll do some of the more divergent/interesting classes in another post (Red Mages/Sages, Thieves, the Merchant, Hero and the Jester).

[miss-3625]

Soooo I got all the Assassin's Creed games for the XBox360 (AC1 - AC Rogue) and because I can't talk to anybody about my new fandom, I'm gonna post my thoughts during my plays on Tumblr, because maybe someone can relate :D

SPOILERS (obviously)

Assassin's Creed 1

(25.12.22)

- I like the trailer :) Altaïr is looking BADASS

- kinda confused about the colours (social status icon), but I guess I'll figure it out as I go

- I like how they made the eagle vision (the way you just get teleported into them and see the world from their eyes)

---

- sorry Malik and Kadar :(

- You dare attack Masyaf?! >:O YOU'RE GONNA REGRET IT!!

(Maaaannn, I'm bad at fighting...)

- I'm dead?!

---

- "The Farm"?! O.o What happend to the Assassins?

- Warren is a creep

---

- Oh no, I'm not dead.

- Why am I losing my learned abilities when I get deomoted? Like I get why I lose my armour (health) but my abilities? :/

- Why are there just women in the garden? (And why is it closed if there is a flag?)

- FLAGS!

- 20 Flags? Where?!

- I like Masyaf :)

- well, that's a clear interrogation I guess ...

- Oh your students don't know how to wield a blade? Do I look like I can it better?!

(-> I couldn't do it better...)

---

- why am I suspicious when I'm galloping my horse? O.o

- I kinda hate the guards ...

- who are these 60 Templars?

---

- Damascus look very pretty :)

- YOU DARE HARM INNOCENT PEOPLE?! >:O

- Awww the people I save, help me in return <3

- I should've gone to the Bureau first, before "starting" the pickpocket mission ...

- I just need 2? I'LL DO ALL 6!

- woah Tamir is ... aggressive....

- AHH THERE'S A CITY ALERT! THEY'RE CHASING ME! :O (man they are very persistent)

---

- Warren is losing his things all the time? Why is that so relatable...

---

- ohhhh new knife :D (and more lives)

- the garden is open! I have all 20 flags! :D

- You again, with your students?

  (-> Oh, I was better this time ^^)

---

- aahhh, the 60 Templars are the lonely ones, that wear white and protect a chest you CAN'T EVEN LOOT

---

- Acre is not looking good from the first glance ...

- Those people are just SLEEPING! Right?!

(26.12.22)

- the Rafiq of Acre kind of looks like Al Mualiam .... doesn't he?

- archer's on the roof - I repeat ARCHERS ON THE ROOF

- it's funny that I'm surrounded by dead people, I'm the only person around who wears weapons, but the guards still can't see me, because I look down... but I'm definitely not complaining

- the parkour is satisfying :)

- I can jump through those lonely market stalls? O.o

- Altaïr can't swim...

- An Informant? I'LL HELP YOU :D

- I hate those beggar women - CAN'T YOU SEE I'M TRYING TO ESCAPE?!

- the people who hold their hands weirdly in front of them, just push you away for no reason?

- another Informant :D

- I NEED TO RACE :O

- I did it with 1:56 to spare B)

- his information was pretty unhelpful.... but thanks anyway

- the guard with a helmet can jump away from your attacks

- I hate Garnier >:(

- Bye Acre, I'm not gonna miss you

---

- Throwing Knives :D

- Oh so this time I'm not supposed to show my new skills to anyone?

---

- Helloo Jerusalem, you're looking better then Acre :)

- archers!

- 100 FLAGS?!

- the guards are wearing AMOUR

- MALIK :D

(27.12.22)

- those 60 Templars are also in the cities! (So far, I've seen 2 in Jerusalem and THERE IS AT LEAST ONE IN THE FORTRESS OF WILLIAM IN ACRE :O)

- I really hate archers -_-

- I'm sooo baaad at fighting, help

- THEY HELPED ME CHATCH HIM! I LOVE THE CITIZENS

- Bye Malik :D

---

- the closet is open O.o

(-> code: helps you unlock the door)

- well there is the pen of Warren

(-> time to stalk Lucy's e-mails :D)

- I STOLE HIS PEN :O

(-> he's so distracted by his coffee he forgets everything - relatable)

- fun fact: he gets annoyed, if you don't immediately get into the Animus ^^

---

- aannd the guards are more suspicious - nice -_-

- NEW ABILITIES :D (and life)

- aahh so now I'm supposed to help you(r students) again .. OKAY I'LL DO IT

- THAT WOULD HAVE BEEN HELPFUL IN THE FIGHT AGAINST TALAL'S MEN >:O

---

- I can immediately travel to Acre/Damascus/Jerusalem without having to ride through all of the Kingdom?! AMAZING:D

- I guess I'll go to Acre first, so that I'll never have to see the city again

- How many guards are here?!

- HELLO ACRE (I didn't miss you)

- those people are still just sleeping

- ARCHERS

- why can't I see where I'm supposed to go? O.o

(-> I'm supposed to go to the rich district)

- why are all the people in the rich district white?

- it is always day (there is never night)

- William's hair is UGLY

- BYE ACRE, HOPE TO NEVER SEE YOU AGAIN

---

- as an Assassin you're supposed to ask questions, but also to not ask questions and trust your master (without question)...?

- "no true peace without order"

- NEW ABILITIES :D

- and of course I'm helping you(r students) again ^^

- the fast travel across the world is so nice

---

- HELLO DAMASCUS, you're looking as gorgeous as last time :D

- "Altaïr my FRIEND HELLOOO, whose life do you come to collect today? :D" .... O.o (I like the Rafiq :))

- Awww Altaïr thanked the Rafiq! :)

- and again, I don't see where I'm supposed to go

(-> It's the rich district again)

(--> at least they're not all white this time)

- ARCHERS >:/

- I was so distracted by the skyline of Damascus, that I jumped from the view point without synchronizing first...

(-> and it was the biggest tower of Damascus...)

- killing 2 guards with TIME?! :O

- I did it! (Also I love the informant :))

- MAN RUNNING! MAN IS RUNNUNG FAST :O Abu'l is a fast man!!!

---

- Altaïr is asking QUESTIONS DEMANDING ANSWERS! HE SPEAKS AGAINST THE MENTOR!!! THE BABY IS GROWING UP :D

- more throwing knives :)

---

- HELLOO JERUSALEM (and hello Malik :))

- where are all those people going? O.o

- Malik is nice :) (he is slowly forgiving his bf ;) )

- and again, I don't know where to go...

(-> this time it was the poor district)

(28.12.22)

- I love this informant and if something happens to him, I will kill all responsible :)

(-> even if I already knew his information)

- "Novice" :D

- I have to save a BROTHER?! :O no pressure, right?!

- well that was the fastest assassination ever XD

(-> I tried to blend in with the scholars, but a man pushed me right into the arms of the guards. They of course became alert and attacked me. Addin walked right into my arms..)

- BYE MALIK :D

---

- the Assassin's are trying to save me

- Abstergo is a Templar Organisation

- everything is normal, I'd say :)

- "the answers [...] are right in front of you"

(-> time to stalk Lucy's e-mails again :D)

- naw. someone (Warren) is grumpy >:)

---

- why is he petting the Apple like a super villain would a cat?

- ACRE AGAIN?!

- they fear me >:D

- NEW ABILITY (and live - just one more and I have all) :D

- Oh and again I'm not supposed to help you(r students) >:/

---

- HELLO ACRE, I STILL HAD TO COME BACK BUT I SWEAR AFTER THIS, YOU'LL NEVER SEE ME AGAIN

- still as ugly as ever

- and those people are still just sleeping

- hello second Al Mualim

- Altaïr thanks the Rafiq! He is growing up :)

- THE GUARDS DRESSED IN WHITE ARE STRONG

- I LOVE the ability to grab/hold onto ledges (so you don't fall)

- I also love the throwing knives (sadly there are only 10 :/)

- GUARDS! A LOT OF (ANNOYING) GUARDS! >:O

- full synchronisation! :D

- so much water! Altaïr hates water! HE DIES!

- I don't want to tell you how long it took me to finish the informant mission (5 targets in 4 minutes) - I HAD TO RESTART AGAIN, SO.MANY.TIMES

- "William and Garnier were too confident" - well you're too scared

- naawww the Rafiq is concerned :)

- and Altaïr is feeling things

- I love the bonds between Altaïr and the Rafiqs <3

---

- damn Altaïr is getting poetic

- he has grown so much <3

- NEW ABILITY

- and again I'm not supposed to help you(r students) ... :(

---

- HEELLLOOO DAMASCUS

- STILL AS BEAUTIFUL AS EVER

- AND I LOVE THE MUSIC!

- it's so adorable that your horse follows you (at least until you actually get into the city) <3

- "the Hero of Damascus"

- They're burning all the books! The WISDOM!!

- and now I did all the 5 targets on the first try ...

- OH YOUR back hurts?! I've been running around all day, fighting dozens of guards! And I'm supposed to kill the boss! What about MY BACK? MY EVERYTHING?!!

(just joking, I love all the informants - they're SO definitely going to be in a fanfic)

(29.12.22)

- on my way to kill the last person before de Sable ^^

- THE BOOKS! THE WISDOM >:O

- I found him on the second try :)

---

- "Oh Desmond, you have no idea." YES, I DON'T, SO WHY DON'T YOU TELL ME SOMETHING USEFUL LUCY?!

- ok not gonna lie, the advertisement e-mail caught me off-guard, but I get it - "we will be there soon" (I felt like a spy - or should I say, like an assassin ;))

- OH I CAN ALSO LOOK AT WARREN'S COMPUTER! OF COURSE I CAN, I STOLE HIS PEN! HOW STUPID AM I!??! (Well If I were an assassin, I would be a novice...)

---

- NEW ABILITY :)

- MORE THROWING KNIVES :D

- and for the last time I'm not supposed to help you(r students) :/ Ok then...

---

- ON MY WAY TO THE LAST TARGET OMG

- WHERE EVERYTHING BEGAN

- HELLOOOO JERUSALEM

- Hi Malik :3

- ARCHERS!!

- the informants are scared of Malik XD

- "Just to be in your presence is a gift from god" <3

- ALTAÏR APOLOGIZED!!!! 

- AND MALIK FORGAVE HIM!!!!

- <3

- Well, time to kill de Sable I guess...

- SUPRISE SURPRISE - SEEMS LIKE ROBERT CHANGED GENDER

- Awww Malik is concerned

- FIGHTING! A LOT OF FIGHTING!!!

- the fight with Robert was easier then all the fights I had to do before XD

- NO AL MUALIM, NOO

- "Why? Why travel all this way? Risk you life a thousand times, all to kill a simple man?"

-> because he is a good man, a man that does everything for freedom and his believe

---

- Desmond haven't had any contact with the Assassins for YEARS. How is it his fault, that they come to rescue him? (Even though, at this point we know that it was Lucy (from her e-mails))

- NO MORE ASSASSINS?! WHAT O.o ("in the last YEAR" WHAT?!)

- Warren: Desmond you're gonna die soon, all the assassins are dead, you are completely alone and after we're gonna put you in the Animus tomorrow, we'll kill you. Sleep tight :)

Me: O.o ... >:(

Lucy: It's not as bad as it seems :/

Desmond:  >:O

---

- the village is looking so dark and sad :/

- HE HAS BEWITCHED THEM

- AL MUALIM IS A TRAITOR >:O ALTAÏR (and all the others) TRUSED YOU

- I HAVE TO FIGHT MY BROTHERS :O

- AHHH I'M SORRY

- AAHH NEARLY DEAD

- MALIK! :D

- "Your presence here will deliver us both" <3

- oh shit, here we go

- the doors closing behind me and a group of (innocent) people staring at me - welcome to the new horror game

- what did he do with all the women?!

(and why is the guarden called "Paradise" O.o)

- OH GOD, NICE TO SEE YOU ALL AGAIN I GUESS?!!

- AAHH HE MULTIPLIES (he glows golden!)

- HE TRIED TO BEWITCH ALTAÏR?!!!

- me the whole time during the end boss and after I killed him:  :O

- the apple is a giant compass? O.o Ah it shows where all the Pieces of Eden are (but it is weird that the Apple shows them a map from our time. (I don't think, this is what the world looked like in the 12. century (at that time they thought that the earth is flat)))

- Malik :D

---

- strange people watching Desmond behind the glass!

- Lucy saved me :)

- O.o What is happening? Invisible inc?

- 12212017 ? Is it gonna be important? We'll see..

- the door doesn't close behind me!

- nothing interesting in the bathroom

- blood?!

- THAT WAS IT?! O.O

---

- hey someone from the gameplay integrators is also named Malik :D

- a lot of testers

- Philip Shahbaz you did a great job in voicing Altaïr :D (they all did)

(-> even if it's weird that Altaïr doesn't have an accent)

- so Nolan North, the voice actor of Desmond, is also the voice actor of Abbas AND also the voice of Nathan Drake of Uncharted (seriously look at how much he has done!)

---

- "We are all books containing thousands of pages and within each of them lies an irreparable truth"

- "I've entered the Abyss and never returned"

- new e-mail at Warren's computer...

(-> subject 16, bleeding effect, THE WHOLE PUPULATION OF AFRICA IS NEARLY GONE?!)

Feedback:

- I liked it :) It is rather simple, but I like that. I liked the (way they did the) cities and I loved the parkour. There were times where I would get from one side of the town to the other just with using the rooftops (or the beams and poles sticking from the roofs), which I greatly enjoyed. I don't know why, but Damascus especially was a beautiful city form me. I spend many minutes on top of towers just looking across the city and remembering the rooftops.

Also, I liked the way they portrayed Altaïr's "road of forgiveness" - In the beginning Altaïr is an arrogant man, who assumes that everyone will do as he says, because he is better then them. That shows in the way he talks to the people in the beginning and the way he demands the answers of the Rafiqs and Informants at the beginning. He doesn't ask questions and simply follows orders blindly. In the middle of the game, Altaïr is beginning to see his mistakes and his arrogance. He begins to question, rather than demand and he apologizes. He is getting respectful. At the end of the game, the arrogant man from the beginning is gone. In his place stands a man, who questions things and wants answers, but doesn't demand them. He sees his mistakes and even begs for forgiveness. He is respectful to those around him and he is showing emotion (before the fight with Al Mualim, he said that he had to be careful not to hurt the innocent people). He is an honorable man now.

(Also I like the way, how the people around him, basically show his process. In the beginning they are rather short with him (especially Malik). Than in the middle, they begin to become friends (even Malik is getting nicer, but still isn't friendly towards him). In the end, all the Rafiqs and Informants respect Altaïr again and even Malik considers him a friend and brother again.)

I also appreciate the fast travel option. While I liked the horse riding, it annoyed me greatly that simply riding my horse can make me suspicious to the guards. In the cities, I could understand the near constant suspicion of the guards (especially towards the end), but that was it.

Another point towards the guards: you have to give it to them, they wouldn't give up. You either have to me miles away from them or hide.

All in all, I liked the game. It has it's points that frustrated me, but in general I really liked it. Can't wait to play Assassin's Creed 2.

THE END OF ASSASSIN'S CREED 1

[romelle]

how you act and what you dare romellura | 3k words 

the title is from this song and the fic was inspired by this princess mage and knight art made by kenzie! i got a slight bit carried away by the sunny weather while writing, though, so i’ll probably also make a short sequel that matches the vibes of the drawing a little better :-) hope u enjoy!! 

As someone who has been a knight for four phoebes (and a hopeful romantic for many more), Romelle truly isn't as loud about her disappointment over not yet meeting the crown princess as she perhaps could be. 

Except, of course, when she is.  

"Why is she out of the kingdom, anyway?" 

It is hard to understand why one would wish to leave during Altea's most delightful seasons. Spring has come and gone, but it did not take all its treasures away as it went. The fragrance of juniberries is still carried on the gentle summer breeze, and the sunlight travels joyously through the dancing leaves, settling on the bare skin of Romelle's arms. After the day's training, she has abandoned her knight armour, and her simple trousers are rolled up to her knees as she cools herself by dipping her feet into the stream. 

Despite the lack of armour (or perhaps precisely because of it), her battle axe still lays in the grass beside her. As it turns out, being childhood friends with a guy who carries a dagger to sleep will leave you with some habits of your own. 

"Studying alchemy, probably." 

Romelle turns to look at Keith, who is leaning against a nearby tree. The boy has rid himself of his chest plate as well, but he still appears to be much more on guard than Romelle is. She tilts her head and furrows her eyebrows, only the slightest bit sceptical. 

"So it is true, then? About her having magic?" 

Whispers spread fast in the castle walls. They spread especially fast in the walls that contain Hunk. Romelle is still relatively new to the mysteries and intrigues of royal lives, but it took little time for rumours of the crown princess's ability to manipulate quintessence to reach her. It was a delicate matter if true, and therefore kept under the wraps by the royal family.

Romelle thought that the magic was fascinating, but she cared more for the stories Allura's friends told of the princess, and the ones she'd heard even before becoming a knight.

It was seeing her fight at one of the tournaments, after all, that made Romelle consider this path in the first place. She has always been quite self-aware, and so she can admit that fancying a princess she never met is not her most original move, but it doesn't trouble her.

Surely, there are worse vices to have. 

Keith shrugs. 

To an untrained eye, he might seem partial about the topic- but Romelle knows just how much he likes a mystery. 

"I don't know," He admits. "But it'd make sense, right? She'd need to travel to the very outskirts of Altea to find someone who can teach her how to control it. And she'd probably want to make sure that she can use it properly before letting the world know. We all saw what happened the last time someone failed at manipulating quintessence. Unless she seems entirely sure of herself the first time she showcases her magic, the people might get restless." 

"You have given this a lot of thought," Romelle teases. 

"I'm just saying," Keith defends, "That's what I would do." 

Romelle huffs a laugh.  

Keith is one of their best knights, certainly. He's a good swordsman, agile and highly courageous. Patience and subtility, however, are not some of his many virtues. 

"No, it isn't. You'd probably last two lessons before you'd have enough and try to fight Zarkon all by yourself." 

"You're in no position to talk about impulsivity," His arms are crossed, but he's smiling, so she knows he didn't take it as an insult to his character. "Like you don't have detailed plans of proposing to a girl you've never met." 

"We've met," Romelle says, sending him a purposefully ridiculous grin. "In my dreams." 

Keith rolls his eyes. 

"Here we go." 

"Did you know that she once defeated four Galra knights armed with nothing but her hairpin?" 

"Did you know you shouldn't believe every song you hear at the tavern?" 

"Then I'll write one of my own." 

"Don't." 

"Of course, I'll have little to write about if I never get to meet her," She mumbles, kicking at the water and watching absently as the droplets fall back into the river. "You've been on quests with her before, though. Maybe the next time she calls on you, something might happen." 

"Like what?" Keith's voice is filled with justified uncertainty. 

"I don't know. Maybe and you'll slip and break your leg, and then I'll have to come in to save the day." 

"You know, I think that threatening a knight might count as petty treason." 

"Treasons, schmeason," She mocks, letting out as sigh when she notes that Keith does not seem very impressed. "But fine. I suppose I'll just write tragically romantic ballads about her eyes, or something of the sort. Like the ones you write about Sir Lance." 

The velocity at which Keith straightens his back is really quite amusing. 

"Don't call him Sir. And I never wrote any ballads about him." 

"Oh, maybe not wrote. Reluctant spoken panegyrics seem to be more your style." 

"You're a pain." 

"See, if this were anyone else saying that, I might be offended," Romelle muses. "But knowing who else you called such names lately, I'm starting to think it might just be your way of expressing affection." 

With one more burning glare, Keith swiftly pushes himself away from the tree he had been leaning against. "I'm leaving," He announces, always so resolute in his decision making. He leans down to pick up the discarded pieces of his armour, which is how Romelle knows that he's serious. 

"Don't leave," Romelle insists. "I'm sorry."  

There, she makes a pause- because she did make a pledge to be true upon becoming a knight, and this seems like a silly way of breaking it.  

And pointless, too, since Keith most definitely sees through her. 

"You're not," He says, as though he's reading her mind. 

"I'm not," She agrees. "But I'll still stop if you stay." 

Keith smiles, a slight quirk of his lips to let her know he isn't genuinely agitated. His hair is tied back today, and his bangs stick to his forehead from the water he splashed his face with when they first arrived. Romelle is glad to see him finally unwind a little, and she'd hate for it to end so soon. 

"Relax. I'm just going to see if there's something to steal from the kitchens. I'll be back in half a varga." 

Romelle does relax. This, after all, does sound like quite a reasonable ground for departure. 

"In that case," She says, granting him a small, jesting courtesy by means of bowing her head. "Good luck, noble knight." 

"You too," Keith says, "Don't fall into the river." 

Romelle frowns. 

"Why would I-" 

Interrupting her train of thought with direct action, Keith gives her a push, shifting her slightly off balance and towards the water. Once she grounds herself again, she moves to slap his hand away- but he gets out of her reach easily, like the quick, slimy eel that he is. 

"Now who's a pain?" Romelle shouts after him, splashing water at his fast-retreating figure. 

Once all the commotion has calmed, she leans back on her arms. There is a small white mouse sitting on the grass, looking up at her outburst with curious eyes. She smiles in an attempt to convince him that she's usually really quite nice, before outstretching her palm. The mouse climbs onto it readily.  

"Why hello little cutie," She coos, and then nods her head in the direction Keith ran off to. "Can you believe that guy?" 

The mouse doesn't seem to be particularly interested in her troubles. Instead, he looks towards the river longingly. 

"Would you like some water?" Romelle asks him, as though she truly is expecting an answer. She doesn't quite get one, but the mouse's stare doesn't waver, and so she assumes she was correct in her assumption. She sets the mouse back onto the ground, and gathers some cold water into her cupped palms. "Here you go, fair sir." 

The mouse drinks gratefully, and Romelle smiles. It's a tranquil scene, with the birds chirping in the branches above them, and the soft sound of the river's flow whirring through the forest. 

That is, until a voice from behind her causes Romelle's heart to leap out of her chest. 

"He hardly deserves such titles after the scene he made." 

Ever the one to be easily startled, Romelle loses her balance with a high pitched squeak of distress, happily mirrored by the little mouse still sitting on the shore. The river is relatively deep here, and she sinks in way over her head, freezing water enveloping her entirely. 

Thankfully, it isn't so deep that she can't stand.  

Regrettably, once she sees the person the voice belongs to, she nearly loses her footing all over again. 

"Oh dear," princess Allura says. "My apologies. I didn't mean to frighten you." 

Frozen both literally and figuratively, Romelle finds that words might be above her current abilities. All the paintings painted and all the songs sung were splendid indeed, but none seemed to truly covey the grandeur of Allura's mere presence. In her rich purple gown and with the white curls gracefully framing her face, she looks a sight that would make any woodland fairy green with envy. 

Yet Romelle is only human, and so she turns pink instead. 

With some delay, she does eventually remember herself, and drops into a clumsy courtesy. 

"Your highness." 

It is a hard thing to do in the water. Although she's only wearing a light tunic and some trousers, the weight of the wet clothes still pulls her down considerably. 

"You mustn't bow. Please get out before you catch a cold." 

Romelle looks down at herself, only just registering the fact that her teeth are chattering.  

She stops that immediately. 

"Right, yes, smart," She rambles, rushing to climb out of the river while still preserving some dignity that she still has left. "I wasn't aware that you're coming back today, your highness." 

"Allura is perfectly fine," The princess assures.  

"Allura," Romelle repeats, careful with the way the name sits on her tongue.  

"It was supposed to a secret until tomorrow's ceremony," She explains. "But the summer heat made Platt rather thirsty, so I took him out the carriage to get some water at the river. And I do admit I wanted to spend some time outside before they coop me up in the room for the evening." 

A dreadful thought dawns on Romelle. 

"How long have you been here?" 

The corners of Allura's lips tug up at the question. 

"A while," She answers vaguely, though her mischievous smile implies what Romelle fears. Then, she lifts her chin slightly to drive attention to the knight's wet clothes. "Are you uncomfortable that way?" 

Romelle shakes her head. 

"Not at all. Is there a better way to fight the heat than going for an impromptu swim?" 

It is not quite the truth. The water itself might be a pleasant refreshment, but the breeze that once felt soothing to her heated skin now sends a shiver down the line of her back. The same breeze runs its' fingers through Allura's hair (softly, as though even it knows that this is a privilege) while the princess furrows her eyebrows, as though she's debating her following words. 

"Would you like me to help?" 

Romelle blinks at the now outstretched hand before her. She isn't confident what the offered help would be, but the proximity is too much for her to stop and wonder about it.  

"Sure?" 

Allura smiles encouragingly, before placing the hand on Romelle's shoulder. It takes a few ticks for Romelle to realise what's happening; to rationalise that the tingly feeling rushing through her body isn't merely a cause of being this close to the princess. She can see as the drops of water separate themselves from her clothes, floating instead around Allura's form. 

Once done, Allura opens her eyes with a satisfied smile, and the drops of water fall apart like shattered crystals. Romelle feels her throat go dry at the display, but that, she supposes, isn't a cause of the magic. 

She raises her hand up to her shoulder-length hair to make sure what she saw was true, twirling a strand around her finger in astonishment. 

"So it's true? You do have magic?" 

Allura's smile broadens. Romelle realises this might be the first time she showcased her powers to anyone outside a small circle closest to the royal family, and suddenly feeling incredibly honoured.  

"You must keep it a secret until the ceremony," Allura warns, with a conscious effort to control her excitement and sober up a little. Then, she sighs wistfully. "Though I do wish I didn't have to stay in my room until then. Altea's beautiful at this time of the year." 

She turns her face up to the sun as she says this, and Romelle physically feels the last of her composure crumble into a miserable heap on the ground. 

"You can still go outside," She suggests, just a touch too thrilled by the idea for it to be inconspicuous. With quick and wide motions, she points at her things lying in the grass. "I could lend you my armour for disguise. They've set up the fair in the old town, there's so much to see! There's an entire display of Balmeran crystals, and the most gorgeous flowers from the Bakku gardens, and Olkari merchants brought these wonderful-" 

"Armour in this heat?" Allura asks, voice lit by amusement. "I don't think it'd be quite practical." 

Romelle quickly lets her arms drop down to her sides.  

Of course, this would happen. She only just met the princess, and she already made a complete fool of herself. 

"You're right," She says, with a curt nod. "I apologise; I'm sure you're very busy, in any case." 

Allura, though, merely shakes her head. A small smile is still present on her lips. 

"That wasn't a no." 

"It... wasn't?" 

"Well, no to the armour, sure," Allura allows. "But I always wanted to see the Balmera crystals. And I certainly have lighter disguises in the castle, if you'll accompany me." Her grin becomes boarder now. "No knights have to break any bones." 

Oh no. 

Romelle clears her throat, quite obviously embarrassed.

"So. You heard that." 

"Maybe so," Allura admits, "It's still a bit early for a proposal, but it'd only be responsible that I take a knight with me to the fair." 

The knight in question only looks at her, thoroughly confused.  

"But you shouldn't be at the fair in the first place?" 

"I am attempting to flirt with you," Allura clarifies, and the words barely conceal the chuckles threatening to fall out. "But perhaps all that time spent in the forest has made me a bit rusty?" 

"Oh," Romelle says, head whirring at the realisation. "Oh! No, you're doing great. Wonderful job. Please, do carry on." 

Allura does chuckle now, and Romelle swears that all the birds in the forest stop in their song.

"Thanks." 

"No problem," Romelle says, before gesturing to her things. "I should pick these up before we go." 

The princess gives a slight, regal nod of her head. As Romelle leans down to pick up her weapon and armour, she speaks up again. 

"By the way, the rumour about how I took out four Galra knights with nothing but a hairpin is entirely untrue. There were at least seven of them." 

For a few ticks, Romelle is very much silent. 

Then, she looks up at Allura with exaggerated solemnity.

"I don't care if it's too early. Please marry me." 

Allura laughs, eyes shining with mirth.

"Let us see how the evening goes," She plays along. "And then we'll decide."

- 

As far as wake-up calls go, rising out of bed at small hours of the night to answer the furious knocking at your door ranks relatively low. Still, after the evening she has had, Romelle's good mood is near impenetrable.

She taps barefoot to the door, her white sleeping gown slipping down one of her shoulders, likely because of how hastily she had tied it. Though her eyes are bleary and the smile she answers the doors with is tired, it is also almost blindingly when bright compared to the darkness surrounding it.  

"Hi, Keith!" 

Keith does not answer with a smile of his own. His eyebrows are furrowed in what could be either anger or worry, face lit up only by a candlestick in his right hand. Despite such late hours, his left hand rests at the dagger that he keeps at his side.  

"Are you alright?" He asks, examining her state hurridly. "You weren't there when I came back, and at first I assumed that you just got bored waiting, but then you weren't at dinner either and-" 

He pauses. 

Romelle yawns. She does feel slightly guilty for making him so worried, somewhere in the back of her sleep clouded mind, but she's also not nearly awake enough to process that feeling as she knows that she should. 

Thankfully, Keith seems to have moved on to other revelations. 

 "What is that on your neck?" 

Romelle looks down, as though seeing her own neck would be possible even in board daylight. It doesn't quite matter, though. She knows precisely what he's referring to, and when she answers, she is perhaps just a tiny bit too smug about it. 

"So. I've met the princess." 

Keith looks at her. Removes his hand from his dagger. Drags it down his face instead. 

"Romelle. Tell me you didn't." 

She's definitely too smug about it. 

"Some of us don't waste time on pining," She says, offering him a lazy side shrug. Her sleeping gown falls further down her shoulder at the movement, revealing two more similar marks.  

Through the fingers covering his face, Keith sighs defeatedly. 

"Should I even ask for your first impression?" 

Romelle's smug look instantly melts into something much softer. She thinks of the way Allura's eyes lit up upon seeing the Balmera crystals, and the way she gleefully sought to find the loveliest fabric among hundreds, only to gift it to Romelle. She thinks of how gently she kissed her, how cleverly she talked, and how being the reason behind her laughter might be the sweetest feeling of them all. 

There is no hesitation present in her voice. When she speaks, it is only affection that colours her every syllable. 

"That it's true, what they say." 

"What is?" 

Soft hand in her own, quiet whispers in her ear. 

Romelle smiles. 

"She's definitely magical." 

[giorno-plays-piano]

Treasure hunt Part 2

Pairing: dragon!Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, kidnapping, mentions of breeding, non-con.

Words: 2035.

Summary: No knight would dare to save a sacrificial bride of the dragon.

Part 1

______________

Stepping on the cold stone floor of the cave, you carefully circled around the mountains of gold and silver and moved forward. Navigating in the dark was incredibly hard, but the soft glow of gems and shining armours here and there helped you to get through. 

You were in your old torn nightgown again, the fancy garments Steve had gifted you laying on the bed along all those necklaces, earrings, cuffs, broches and rings finished with precious stones. You didn't need any of those as you run towards your way out of the deep cave. The only thing you craved for was your freedom.

Almost tripping over the golden spear, you finally saw the moonlight coming from the entrance of dragon's dungeon. You held your breathe. You were so close.

In a second you sprinted towards it with gleeful abandon, thinking of the dark night sky, huge fields and mountains surrounding the cave. It was scary to think you would have to fend for yourself from now on, but you were a traveler. You could make it as long as no one tried to seize you like those villagers, now all gone thanks to the dragon's wrath. You gulped. You prayed he would sleep soundly while you sneak out in the darkness of the night.

A part of you felt guilty for leaving him after everything he had done for you, but being his little pet because he deemed you too feeble to leave was humiliating. Maybe you would find some other way to thank him for his generosity later. As of now, the only thing on your mind was getting away from this place.

You could already feel the slight chill in the air when you got closer to the huge entrance of the cave and rushed towards it, thinking of nothing else but the cool wind blowing outside. Your lips curled when you saw the moon and stars high above you. However, before you stepped on the grass, you felt a push so strong you ended up thrown far back at the rocky floor and yelped in sudden pain - you crushed your elbow, blood seeping from it on the cold stone beneath you. Tears sting at your eyes as you hugged your arm and bit down on your lip to stop screaming.

What was that? What had pushed you so hard it sent you flying? You saw nothing in front of you, no scary creatures guarding the entrance of the prison you were locked in. Yet something didn't want you leave.

... or rather someone.

In a few moments you heard a distant sound of flapping gaunt wings and stilled. You had awoken the dragon with your cry, and now he was coming for you. You had failed terribly.

His blue eyes were glowing in the dark brighter than gems as he flew to you in his true form, big as a mountain, while you stared at his scaled golden wings with horror. His monstrous shadow covered you from above before he started landing, his gaze disturbing, anxious. A flap of his wings set off a little tornado, and you pressed yourself to the floor in panic. He was going to eat you. Burn you. Make you suffer for your disobedience. You had to stay in the cave instead of opposing his wish to protect you.

You sobbed quietly once the dragon had partly changed his form in haste - although his body was human, his sharp claws and long tale belonged to the dragon, his new appearance strange and frightening. He hurried towards you, his eyes on your blood-stained arm.

"What happened to you, my love?" Steve asked, bending over and reaching for your elbow. "Why did you leave your bed?"

What could you answer? With eyes full of tears, you kept your mouth shut, watching him growing with worry at your silence. You had betrayed his trust. 

"I will heal your wound, stay still." He sighed when you chewed on your lower lip, afraid to look at him.

The ointment suddenly appeared in his hand as if by magic, and Steve had torn the cotton fabric forcefully to look at the blood seeping from your arm. He said nothing at all as he wiped the wound and applied fresh-smelling balm on your skin. You felt disgusted at yourself: your savior had been so patient and kind, yet you preferred to escape without expressing your gratitude.

"You gave up all the gifts I brought you, my love." The dragon stated calmly as he finished. "Why? Don't be silent, sweetheart. I demand you to speak."

Desperately wiping the tears falling again and again with the back of your hand, you nodded. You could not bring youself to open your mouth.

"Why?" He asked one more time, his eyes the same color as the dark sky again. "Why do you want to leave me, my love? Have I not treated you kindly? Have I not given you everything you wanted?"

"I want to see the night sky." You muttered under your breathe, looking at the torn hem of your nightgown. "I want to feel the grass under my feet and listen to the chirping of the crickets."

"You are not my prisoner, sweetheart. I can bring you wherever you want me to."

A whine rebounded from your chest at his words.

"I don't want to be a sacrificial lamb." You sobbed, shaking your head desperately. "I don't want to be a pet. I don't want to ask for permission every time I step outside the cave."

"You are not my pet." The dragon whipped his huge sharp tail with such force it ruined one of the mountains of gold close to it, and you squeezed your eyes shut, terrified of his temper tantrums. "You are the one I've chosen to keep by my side, shield from the dangers of the world and share my treasures with you so you would share yours. Why isn't it enough? What else do I have to do?"

He pressed his lips together in a thin line, his claws dangerously close to your body as if he were going to sank them in your sensitive flesh and tear you apart. He would kill you, oh he would, you felt it in your bones. 

"I have nothing to give you, Steve, Sarah's son." You uttered and finally raised your head to meet his darkened gaze. "And I want nothing from you. Why do you want to keep me? You won't profit from it."

His eyes softened at the sight of your flushed face, wet from tears still streaming down your cheeks and chin. You looked so pathetic in front of him in your old nightgown, degraded bloodstains covering once white fabric, yet so beautiful, so lovely it enraged him to think he could lose you despite all his efforts. It bewildered him how fast he had grown used to your calming presence, your smell, your voice. You said you had nothing to give him, but you were so wrong. He wanted you. He wanted to feel you close, see your pretty face, touch your tender body heavy with his child, your breasts full of milk... He wanted you like no other treasure of his. No one but you could give him what he desired the most.

All of a sudden, he jumped at you and covered your trembling shoulders with his callous palms, his hungry mouth devouring yours while you were frozen on the spot. His hot tongue had poked at your lips, and you gave up to him, granting him access and barely recognizing what you were doing. It felt like a shock jolted him, followed by a pleasant tingling, and the dragon slammed his mouth down against yours with a groan.

"You have a lot to give me." He crooned when you were left gasping for air, astounded and confused. "You have something no one but you can grant me, sweetheart."

You gasped once his clawed hands cupped your soft belly through the thin cotton fabric, watching the man panting and looming above you. You realized just how wrong you were, thinking of him as your protector, a knight in shining armor while he was exactly who villagers told you he was - a hungry monster craving for his bride's warm flesh, just in a different way. 

"No, no." You tried pushing him back, and his sharp tail hit the ground loudly, making you shiver. "P-please, I'm only human. I can't do it."

"My mother was human too." Letting out a chuckle, Steve lowered the nightgown on your shoulders while you desperately clenched the fabric in your arm, your other palm on his chest to prevent him from coming closer. "Why are you afraid? I won't harm you. In the end, this is the destiny of all women, isn't it? To become a good wife and mother. Surely, it is better to belong to me rather than any filthy peasant?"

You couldn't keep arguing, knowing your words would fall in deaf ears, and tried breaking free from his grip only to make the dragon more excited as he climbed on top of you, lifting the hem of your nightgown as his hands trailed upward. His palms were burning your thighs when you whimpered, shaking and moving beneath him like a snake. Why was he doing it? Did he force himself on each and every bride of his and got rid of them later once he got bored?

"Please, please let me go." You pleaded, feeling him leaving hot kisses down your neck and shoulders, his lips dry but soft. "Let me leave, I beg of you!"

"Oh you can't leave, sweetheart. You've eaten the dragon fruit, remember?" His toothy smile made you feel sick. "Now you are bound to me."

"Like all of them were?" You yelled in disgust and despair, staring at the dragon's hollowed blue eyes. "Did you truly let them go as you said? Or did you eat them when you no longer loved them?"

Your words made him laugh as he bared your breasts, ripping the fabric apart with his claws but avoiding touching your skin before his hands fully tranformed into human ones. Dragon's enourmous tail layed close to you, its razor-edged tip reminding you Steve could kill you within a few seconds.

Then he stroked your wet cheek with his fingers and cooed softly, his gaze darkening at the sight of your angered face. "None of them deserved to stay, sweetheart. I let them go. I don't know why you insist I eat humans as if I were a lowly beast, but if you're so eager to see me doing it, I will eat you."

Your mouth tasted like copper when you bit on your lip too hard, missing the mischievous look in Steve's bright blue eyes as you flinched from his touch, his tail now pressing you to the cold stony floor. The dragon backed down a bit, and you saw how he hungrily looked at your thighs and belly. He prepared to devour you, tear your flesh apart, and you were to die at his hands for your stubbornness and stupidity. Trembling like a leaf, you shut your eyes, preparing for the end.

Then you winced from a tender touch, Steve caressing your naked mound with his hand lovingly, his eyes watching you intently. What was that? Was he going to sank his teeth into?..

You covered your mouth with your palm as you felt his long wet tongue on your gentle folds. Gods, it would be even more painful than you had ever imagined. This perverted monster wanted to devour your womanhood. But before you could cry out in pain, you suddenly mewled from his pleasurable kitten licks and squirmed, trying to get up to see what the dragon was doing.

"W-wha..."

"I'm sorry, my dear." Steve smirked, raising his head a bit and pressing a shameless kiss to your mound. "But this is how I like to eat cute little girls like you. So, keep this pretty hand away from your mouth and let me show you how good I can make you feel."

_____________

Tags: @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @kawairinrin

[kirkwallgremlin]

I know you said you don't need more prompts buuuuuut...."57 secretly dating" from the intimacy prompts list (for whichever pairing you want)?

@playwright-fate thank you all for asking <3 (and thank you anon ;_;), even if it did take me almost a month. I have to say though, I laughed when I recieved exactly the same prompt 3 times in a row 😂

Here’s some Isabela/Fenris <3 1520 words, rated M for brief discussions/mentions of sex and featuring the DA2 companions

Isabela didn’t know exactly when it had happened. When Fenris had started to mean something, when she had started spending as much with him as she did alone. 

She knew when it had started of course. The night when all of the teasing, the suggestive jokes and comments she never expected to go anywhere, and the increasingly bold flirting she received in response had reached boiling point and she and Fenris had ended up in tangle of limbs and messy sheets in her room in the Hanged Man.

They’d been so rushed he hadn’t even fully removed his armour. 

She was the one who raised it again a week or so later, a casual comment about how she couldn’t stop thinking about that night. It was almost true. She could have stopped if she tried but did she really want to do that? 

“Well, then I’ll see you later,” he’d told her in response and she’d appreciated his sudden boldness. 

Then that night had turned into another, then another, and somehow they had found themselves here, with this undefined thing between them, growing every day. 

“Do you think the others know?” he asked her one night as she sprawled sleepily across his bed, the pale sheets a stark contrast against her skin. “About us? About this?”

She wrinkled her nose at him. 

“What is there to know?” she said. “If we talk about this, it becomes a thing. I don’t want it to be a thing. Things are complicated and messy and feelings get involved. And I’m not good with feelings.”

She pouted, shifting to push her bare breasts towards the elf’s serious expression. 

“It doesn’t have to be a thing,” Fenris said, reaching for her, and just like that, the conversation was over.

They didn’t talk about what this was anymore, and they didn’t make any plans to tell anyone. 

She didn’t want it to be a thing, as much as it was starting to feel like one.

 - - -

“Come on, take a risk for once,” Isabela giggled, the door to the Chantry storeroom partially open behind her. She wasn’t sure Fenris believed that she’d found it open - she could hardly believe the luck herself - but she wasn’t sure it mattered as she pressed her lips against his throat. 

“Please?” she added, the words murmured against his skin, pressing closer against him. “It’s only a storeroom and I’m sure the Maker won’t mind. You can ask for forgiveness later.”

Fenris gave in, letting her pull him into the empty room. But as Isabela pressed him against the wall, something clattered and they jumped, realising they weren’t as alone as they had thought. 

“Mage,” Fenris snapped, standing straight as Anders stared at them, wide eyed and shocked. He clutched a large sheet of crumpled paper against his chest. 

“I won’t tell anyone you were here if you do the same,” he said quickly and Fenris nodded. She was close enough to see his cheeks burning red as he awkwardly excused himself. 

She looked back at Anders. 

“Do I even want to know what you’re doing here?” she asked and he raised an eyebrow at her. 

“Do I want to know what you were doing here?” 

“I was trying to do the handsome elf but somebody interrupted that,” she muttered under her breath. Anders heard anyway. 

“Are you sure that’s wise?” he asked.

“If I want your advice, I’ll ask for it,” she snapped. “So far though… it seems to be a very wise choice. But you can go ahead and keep that to yourself.” 

Anders knowing didn’t need to make it more of a thing. Lots of consenting adults had sex, after all. 

- - -

“How long have you been sleeping with Fenris?” Merrill asked one day, the words slipping out with such casual ease that Isabela nearly tripped down the stairs to the dock. 

“What?” she spluttered. “We’re not…? How did you...?”

“He watches you when he thinks you’re not looking,” Merrill said simply. “And your face lights up when he’s around, when you think nobody is looking.” 

“It’s just bedroom eyes, Kitten.” 

Merrill frowned, a small crease forming between her eyebrows. 

“Isn’t that the point?” she said. “You wouldn’t have bedroom eyes if you were sleeping together. But they’re outside the bedroom too.”

Isabela sighed. 

“It’s complicated,” she said. “It’s been a few weeks but it’s just sex.”

“Oh.” Merrill continued walking for a moment, silent, the empty bags she took when shopping hanging limply from her arms. “It doesn’t look like just sex. He looks like he cares. You do too.” 

Isabela just shook her head. 

“Just sex, Kitten,” she said. 

As much as Merrill might be convinced otherwise, it was just sex. It wasn’t anything more than that, and it definitely wasn’t anything more than that, not like the elf was implying. 

- - -

“Aveline, my dear friend,” Isabela said, her most charming smile plastered across her face as she breezed into the woman’s office. “I was just wondering, for no reason at all, if there ever happens to be any spaces left… unattended around here. Alternatively, if you ever leave your office for prolonged periods of time.” 

The woman raised an eyebrow at her. 

“Who are you sleeping with now?”

“You wound me, Aveline,” she said, doing her best to look innocent. “I’m simply concerned about your wellbeing.”

“It can’t be Hawke, they’re with that mage.” Aveline continued as though she hadn’t spoken. Isabela rolled her eyes, planting her backside firmly on the captain’s desk. 

“Believe it or not, I do have a life outside of Hawke,” she pointed out. “I have other friends, just like you do.”

“Did Fenris finally give in to your pestering?”

“It's hardly pestering when he’s the one initiating” she muttered. “And some people enjoy being flirted with.”

“I’m not helping you have sex somewhere in my guard headquarters,” Aveline told her, tone flat, and Isabela pouted. 

“You never let me have any fun.”

Aveline just shook her head as Isabela excused herself, looking back as the guardswoman called her name. 

“I hope you’re happy with him” she said. 

Isabela smiled, but it didn’t quite meet her eyes. Of course she was happy. It was easy for sex to make you happy. And that was all it was, right?

- - -

“So, Rivaini,” Varric said. “I’m going to need some details.”

“What are you talking about?” she snapped at the dwarf standing at the top of the stairs as she exited her room. 

“You and the elf. You’re not exactly doing a good job sneaking him in here. Unless you’re not even trying to hide it. If not, I’m hurt you haven’t told me already.”

“You’re getting nothing from me, Varric,” she told him, adjusting the jewelry that hung around her neck in the mirror he’d hung in the hall. Better lighting, or so he’d claimed. 

“Oh come on. The pirate and the fugitive? Star crossed lovers, finding each other despite their circumstances? Now that’s a story worth telling.” 

“It’s not a story,” Isabela muttered. “It’s just… sex. Sex between two people who happen to both be very attractive and can both appreciate that.” 

Varric laughed. 

“That’s just an added bonus,” he said. “Sex sells. But, not a problem. I can make up your tragic love story if I need to.”

“Go ahead,” she told him with a cheery smile. “Because there’s no real story here. We’re not star crossed lovers or going to give you a real love story.” 

Varric could do his best but he wasn’t getting any real details to write about. Not from her. And this wasn’t going to really be a lasting story worth telling anyway, right?

- - - 

Fenris was warm under her skin as she lay against his chest, one finger tracing ever so gently across one of the scars on his chest. He had a lot of those, marks from his past, marks that had become so familiar to her over the time they had spent together. 

“So I’ve been thinking,” she said. “About us. About this?”

“This?” Fenris asked, and she didn’t need to look to know that he had raised an eyebrow at her words. She knew him well enough by now. Just like he knew her well enough to know the comment was unusual. 

“This,” she confirmed, forcing her breathing to remain steady. “Don’t get me wrong, this is not a thing. I don’t do things. But I’ve been thinking. Maybe…” Andraste’s ass, why was this so hard? Lips pressed against the top of her head, a familiar, reassuring feeling. “Maybe it wouldn’t be the end of the world if people knew… that I… care for you. Just a little.” 

Fenris’ lips curved into a smile against her hair. 

“I care for you too, Isabela,” he said. “Just a little.” 

Safe and warm in Fenris’ arms, in his bed, in his house, where she had spent so many of her nights lately, Isabela smiled. 

She wasn’t the kind of person who did things. But whatever this was, maybe she just needed to enjoy it. And if that meant everyone knowing, that maybe that was how it needed to be. 

[one-boring-person]

What Kind Of A World Are We Living In?

The Lost Boys x The Walking Dead Crossover

Warnings: blood imagery, death, some very vague TWD spoilers, bad language

Context: So @browneyes528 , @lostbetweenvampiresandmusic and I kinda came up with an idea for a crossover between these fandoms, and it basically entails David meeting Negan for the first time.

A/N: This is my first time writing Negan, so I hope it's not too bad! I enjoyed writing this; it's quite fun to combine the things I enjoy 😂😅💛

Masterlist.

Originally, David had made it clear that he wanted no part in joining any groups they came across on their travels, impressing this on the boys on multiple occasions, especially when "food" was scarce. Even before he'd turned, he'd never been a particularly social person, so the outbreak of "biters" as one group they'd encountered had called them was perfect for his naturally guarded personality, as it meant he never had to interact with people he didn't like as much as he used to, back in Santa Carla in the good old days. Only one problem came with the outbreak: the amount of available people to feed on was slowly decreasing, and the biters do not taste nearly as good.

However, this changed when he came across a rather interesting character, whose name he had yet to figure out, whilst on a hunt, the others having spread out through the area to find possible sources of blood. For once, David was walking through the dense forest rather than flying over it, avoiding the biters wherever possible, easily decapitating those that stumbled too close to him with the machete he "borrowed" from a previous victim, though in theory there was no need to do so, seeing as they didn't seem to care about the taste of vampire flesh, and their bites wouldn't do anything to them anyway. He'd started to give up hope of finding any source of life, until he picked up the sounds of voices a little way off, interest spiking as he headed off in that direction, hunger growing as the familiar scent of fresh blood reached him, the smell clearly emanating from a large area ahead of him. Following with more vigour, he soon came across the odd gathering of people; a semi-circle of sorts was formed around an old RV, a number of them kneeling on the floor in front of a horde of armed soldier-type men and women. Vehicles surrounded them, a collection of armoured trucks and pickups, as well as a couple of motorbikes (which he greatly envied, seeing as he and the boys had had to leave theirs back in Santa Carla for lighter travel) solidifying the would-be intimidating group into an almost impenetrable wall. Normally, he'd signal for the other boys to join him, there being too many for him to finish off alone, but something stopped him in his tracks. Or rather, someone.

A tall man went to the RV, having said something relevant to the kneeling people, opening the door to reveal another man, who stepped into the light with a large grin on his face. Instantly, David's focus was on the newcomer, eyebrow raising at his choice of attire - a black leather jacket, red scarf and dark jeans, though what really caught his eye was the baseball bat, which was wrapped in barbed wire, a deadly weapon he wished he could see in action. Despite the circumstances (it being an apocalypse and all), the newcomer was clean and undirtied, as if he had somewhere to return to where he could shower and change into clean clothes, and his entire attitude around the gathered people only proved to David that this man was the leader.

His eyes remained fixed on him, taking in the laid-back, yet clearly authoritative stance and movements, not listening to what was being said until the familiar sound of an old song floated up to him from the leader, each line punctuated by a point of the bat at a kneeling person, all of whom appeared terrified.

"Eeny, meeny, miny, mo, catch a tiger by his toe..."

The black-clad leader's voice was taunting, his fingers visibly clenching around the handle of the bat as he came to a halt in front of a thick-set ginger guy, who stared up the length of the weapon with a confidence only bred in the military.

David could only watch with grudging  appreciation as the leader then proceeded to beat the hell out of the guy's head, spreading the ginger man's brains all over the dusty tarmac with a brutal finality.

It only took the sight of this to change David's mind about joining a group, his mind made up as he watched the leader tease and taunt the rest of the group, nearly rising in anger when a dishevelled brunette sprung forward to punch him in the jaw, smirking to himself when another guy had his head smashed to pieces in retaliation. This guy knew how to demonstrate his ultimate dominance over his people.

Unfortunately, he had to wait another few weeks or so until he got the chance to meet this guy again, at which point he'd already informed the others of this new group he had found, eager to figure out what this guy's reaction would be to finding a coven of vampires asking to ally with him. To say the boys had been surprised was an understatement; Paul nearly fell from the roof they were perched on, Dwayne only just managing to pull him back up again, Marko staring, wide-eyed, at his leader. Unsurprisingly, they had all wanted to see this guy for themselves, not quite believing that a human could be as brutal and remorseless as David made him out to be, thus starting a search for the base of these people, though it was mostly unsuccessful, until one summer night.

The four of them hovered over the decrepit motorway below, eyes searching for any signs of movements, each of them as bored as the others, having had less luck finding food in the last few weeks, seeing as everyone seemed to be letting themselves die in ways that meant they would become a biter, which was not helpful at all. By now, they'd been out for a good four hours, their hunger levels through the roof - they'd only found a group of two loners the day before, meaning that they hadn't eaten nearly enough to satisfy them. At his point, Marko and Paul decided they needed to start acting dramatic, theatrically dropping from the sky every now and then, only to catch themselves after a few metres, complaining about how tired and hungry they were the entire time, neither of them letting up, even when Dwayne threatened to stake them both. They were whinging so much they never noticed the little band of people on the motorway below them, the tiny group having just emerged from the trees lining the side of the road, until David pointed them out, licking his lips in anticipation, his vampiric features contorting his face as he led the dive down.

Whooping in triumph and relief, the four of them descended on the group of five, each of them claiming a victim right off the bat, tearing into their chosen person with a vigour born of deep-rooted hunger, blood erupting in macabre fountains from the newly made wounds. The rich fluid coated their chins and fangs, staining their already filthy clothes further as the screaming people writhe and struggle in their respective grips, each one gradually dying in full view of the fifth, who had yet to race off in the other direction, which would've been the smart thing to do. As it happened, the horrified girl never stood a chance, swiftly being taken out by David as he took his fill from her, passing her barely alive body on to an eagerly waiting Paul, who was only to happy to sink his fangs into her skin, tearing her throat out with a grim efficiency.

In their feeding frenzy, none of them had noticed the envoy of vehicles slowly approaching from the north, a familiar RV amongst them, until the beaming headlights were focused on them, drawing the vampires' attention. Dropping the corpses, each vampire moved to stand beside David, who stuck his gloved hands in his pockets and watched the cars approach, smirking at the realisation of who it is, glad that their first encounter involved him covered in fresh blood from a victim he just spent a few enjoyable minutes tearing to pieces, knowing that his appearance must be horrifying. Beside him, the others stood their ground, Marko moving to bite at his thumb, only to swiftly think better of it, hooking it in the belt loops of his jeans instead. Ahead of them, each vehicle came to a halt, a group of armed people stepping forward with rifles and shotguns aimed at them, a sight which brought a slight grin to David's lips, the door to the RV opening to reveal the guy from before, a somewhat confused yet confident expression on his face.

"It's nearly two in the morning and I have to sort out a bunch of cannibals on the road? What kinda world are we living in?!" The leader joked with one of his cronies, eyeing the motley group of blood stained boys with no trepidation at all.

"A dying one, I reckon." David called out to him in way of response, their eyes locking, almost as if challenging each other.

"Well, then I guess it all depends on who you ask, don't it?" A wide grin appeared on the guy's face as he looked David over, clearly impressed by what he saw, "Damn, you are creepy as shit! You look totally badass!"

David's eyes narrowed a bit at his words, suspicious of the guy's odd compliments.

"If that's what you think, then sure." He responded, choosing his words carefully.

"What I think? Hell, no, that's not what I think. It's what I know." He confirmed, leaning back on his heels, his bat resting over one shoulder, "I'm Negan."

"David."

"David? Your name is David? I'm gonna have to figure out something better than that, something more badass."

For once, David chose not to let his offense at the statement determine how he acted, instead remaining in place with a neutral expression.

"If you must." He bit out, deciding to get straight to the point, "We've been looking for you."

Surprise seemed to cross Negan's face at this confession, eyebrows momentarily drawing together in confusion.

"You've been looking for me? Why in the hell would you do that?"

"I saw you beat two people's heads in a few weeks back, and you left a good impression on me. I thought you might like the help of four vampires in your group, who have no qualms about killing anyone." David informed him, nearly rolling his eyes at the disbelieving look on their faces.

"I left a good impression on someone like you because I beat the shit outta two people? Damn, you are messed up, I'll give you that." Negan smirked, pointing at David with his bat, "But I cannot give you the vampire bullshit. Who in the hell still believes in them?"

"People with sense." He grinned in reply, his features changing into their vampiric forms, lips peeling back to reveal his razor sharp fangs.

For a long moment, everyone is silent, Negan's eyes fixed on David's face, clearly taken aback by the turn of events, though the smile is quick to return.

"I owe you damn apology, David, that is terrifying. Like real, pant-pissing, shitting-yourself terrifying." He complimented again, seemingly considering something, "You still up for helping me out? Because I have a job that I think will suit you guys just fine."

"Sure thing, as long as the price is decent."

Negan stepped forwards, bat back on his shoulder, a conspiratorial smirk on his lips.

"There's a certain group of people who need the shit scaring outta them. Their leader is a prick named Rick, or Rick the Prick as I call him, and he needs an attitude adjustment."

[vurlix]

The Druid of Mothem

### I started working really hard on this one AI Dungeon campaign mapping out the whole world of Xaxas that the game offers and putting it all into World Anvil (an online world builder) So i can better track places and people since the AI in AI dungeon can only remember so much. The majority of this story is created by GPT-3 (if I had to make a guess I’d say ~85-90%. I also used the website Art Breeder to generate the pictures for the characters and landscapes. ###

### AI is coming a long way. I plan to continue this story since I love playing a druid in 5e. ###

### I also added the new AI Dungeon feature which allows the gaining of stats so every time I try to do an action, it rolls on stats that continue to grow. ###

### But besides that, I also rolled out a Druid Wood Elf and have a character sheet to follow

I’ll link everything after the story, other than that I hope you enjoy!! ###

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You are Goodaquazi, a male elf druid who lives in the town of Morthem. You are new to the town though rarely actually visit it. Being a druid you're the most comfortable being outside the town in the forest with nature. The town of Morthem consists of a few large buildings and many smaller ones surrounding it. Humans and elves make up the population of this small farming town. A large deep forest surrounds the farmland as far as the eye can see. It truly is a beautiful forest.

When you're not spending time in Morthem, you can be found deep in study at a small nature temple located somewhere away from Morthem deep in the forest. This temple is where all druids or those with an interest in nature and druidism spend time in study, meditation, or prayer.

The day to day life of Morthem goes on with or without you and that's OK. The people are content and that's all that's in your heart. It's a simple life, and you're happy with that. 

You are in a forest somewhere far from any civilisation. This is your home and you feel comfortable here with the animals, plants, and nature. You were taught by the master druids to harness the natural magic energy that exists in all things. You practice this skill every day for there is always more to learn.

 You lie down on the ground, stretching out your arms and legs along the lush grass and closing your eyes. The sun is high overhead, its light filtered through an unblemished blue sky. A cool wind blows through the field, carrying with it the rich scents of soil and nature. The grass is damp from last night's rain, and you can sense the life force of the land, almost as if it were a living creature itself. The scents and sensations are almost overpowering after your time in the city, but feel refreshing now that your senses have been reawakened.

You slowly open your eyes. All around you, plants grow and animals live in a perfect state of harmony with the land. You vanish from their sight, though creatures with greater senses might still be able to detect your presence if they were really looking.

However, it is not upon the ground that you wish to be. You feel cramped and bored lying there, so you take a deep breath and rise up into the air, levitating several feet above the ground. You are weightless, able to drift through the air with only a thought.

You have many hidden conversations with animals as you move through the forest and they, curious about this friendly stranger. Different types of animals, each with their own unique personalities, sizes and abilities. There are fighting animals able to kill even the largest of beasts, and others that are solely for transportation or, in some cases, purely companionship.

You drift along atop the wind, smiling and laughing as you fly. This is how you move from place to place when you are outdoors. Eventually, you begin to get a splitting headache from all the sensory input and decide to head back home for the day.

You approach your cabin by nightfall. Made chiefly of wood with a thatched roof, it looks every part the fairy-tale cottage. An enormous oak tree towers over it and provides shade. You walk up to the door and unlock it with ease. Heading inside, you take off your shoes, as is custom in this land. The entire floor is covered by a thick carpet of grass which springs back up after every step you take.

Una, your girlfriend, is preparing dinner. Her long blond hair falls down to the small of her back and her sky coloured eyes pierce your very being. By her feet rests Zane, the cutest puppy you've ever seen who can someday grow up to be a fierce guard dog if given the right training.

"Hey, Una," you say.

"Uh-huh," she replies, engrossed in the cooking.

From another room, you hear a baby boy giggling. The newest member of your family, Behan, lies in his cradle. You fly through the door and hover over his crib, looking down on his innocent features. Through your son, you have discovered the true joys of fatherhood. All younglings go through an insane rebellious phase, which Behan will eventually go through too, but for now he is really sweet.

"You look tired," remarks Una, suddenly standing beside you with a bowl of strawberries in her hands.

You take one out of the bowl and eat it, relishing the sweet taste as it enters your mouth. "I had an interesting day," you reply. "Why is Zane outside?"

Una blushes. "I wanted to surprise you. Turn around."

Curious, you do as she says and spin on the spot. You hear Una squeal with delight before her arms embrace you from behind and her head rests itself upon your shoulder. "So?" she asks, a mischievous smile evident in her voice.

You turn to face Una and are faced with the image of her clad in a tight, midriff showing black dress and knee high stilettos. Your jaw drops and you stare with awe. "Wow," you utter, staring at her beauty. "You... look... amazing!"

"I thought we could go to a friends' house to eat. They're having a party, do you want to go?"

The constant sensory input has given you a monstrous hunger, and as much as you love Una, you need food. "Absolutely," you say.

The two of you fly to your friend's house. The manor lies on a hilltop which descends into a plain, which lies on the edge of a dense evergreen forest. You are faced with the grandest house you have ever seen. Dozens of little windows peer at you like wandering eyes. Hundreds of lights create the illusion that the house is glowing. The manor is at least four stories high and has a tryst swim among trees behind it. The entire setting is like something out of a fairy tale. You land beside a golden pathway that leads up to the manor. The evergreen forest towers over you on both sides and a soft, cool breeze passes through it, sending chills down your spine. You take a deep breath through your nose as you enter through the heavy wooden door.

You are faced with a giant hall, with several corridors branching off it. The walls are lined with suits of armour, which glare at you with iron eyes. Black and white tiles line the floor, and a giant chandelier made up of antlers hangs from the ceiling. You both walk past the hall and down one of the branching corridors. Tiny flickering lights dance along the corridors' walls. You peer into a room and see a grand piano and several pieces of classical music written in notes on sheets of music. You enter the room as you sense somebody there. An old man with a goatee sits in the corner of the room, playing the piano. The music is slow and rhythmic.

You remember this man. He was one of Una's former boyfriends, a pianist that travels around the country and plays for people. You are about to call out to him when Una grabs your wrist. You look at her, meeting her fiery eyes. She motions for you to follow her and the pair of you bypass the man entirely. The next corridor weaves back and forth and has the same black and white tiles as the last corridor. Finally, the corridor brings you to a set of stairs. You climb the stairs slowly, and as you do you see someone at the top. It's the host of the party, Judge Beckery.

"You came!" he says, smiling. "I can already tell this is going to be the best party ever."

"Who was that man playing?" you ask, motioning toward the room with the grand piano.

"Oh him?" says Beckery. "That's just Harvey. He's a bit of a weirdo."

You nod slowly.

"Anyway, I just got here myself," says the Judge. "I'll show you to your room."

The pair of you head up another flight of stairs and Beckery stops at the first door on the left. He opens it and ushers you inside.

"I hope you'll be comfortable in here," he says.

The room is small but comfortable. It has a double bed, a dresser, and a nightstand with a lamp. There's also a desk in the corner. The walls are covered with a deep blue wallpaper. You set your bags down on the floor and look out the window. The courtyard and forest surround the house.

You return to the party. Those few feet between you and Una seem like an endless distance, one that neither of you are willing to cross.

As you enter the room the crowd melts away before you and everyone stares in astonishment. You stand there, surrounded by a crowd of people. A fight seems inevitable.

Suddenly the crowd parts and Una comes before you. She looks into your eyes and gives you a small smile. It's a smile that says everything will be alright. You smile back, and then feel your face flush and your heart flutter.

Before you stands Una, a tall and willowy young woman with long blond hair, gray eyes, and fair skin. Her beauty takes your breath away--more than that, her presence does, the way she stares back into your eyes timidly yet still willing to meet your gaze for as long as you like.

"I love you Una, thank you for bringing us here but I'm starving! Why don't we go into the dining room and get something to eat?"

Everyday your craft keeps you occupied and your spare time is spent with Una. As the years pass your personal life and druidic life begin to overlap one another. Your love for Una only deepens and your son Behan grows in strength and wisdom. You tell him stories of the old lands of Tuatha, and promise that when he's old enough you'll return, if only to visit.

"I saw the strangest thing today," Una says to you as you eat dinner. You are eating roasted duck at this party and Una has been watching you and Behan with a faint frown on her face.

"What's that?" you ask.

"I saw one of the peasants run over a fox and kill it." she says.

"That's terrible, why would someone be so careless about a living creature. What if that fox was me Una? Did you see who the peasant was that ran over the fox? " you respond.

"I did," she says, "It was Chris."

"Are you sure it was him?"

"No. But the man I saw was a barbarian and he's friends with that barbarian."

Knowing Una, this must have bothered her greatly. You've never been a fan of Chris, it seems that even if you are wrong about him, you still have to tell him to apologize to Una. As the sun disappears over the horizon and night falls, you head over to Chris's room.

You rap on his door and he bids you come in.

"What the hell do you want." Chris grunts angrily. You can tell he's clearly been drinking and not to mention his room smells awful. You also notice that there are various bottles filled with assorted types of Liquid.

"My wife is pretty upset with what happened at the party earlier, and I'd like to apologize if I could." You lie.

"Alright?" He says to you as he lights his pipe, the lighter producing a small blue flame.

You quickly chant a short incantation and the flame on his pipe flares up as smoke billows into his face, he has been incapacitated by the flames and he begins to scream as he desperately tries to pat them out.

You rush over and smack him in the head with your palm and he's out like a light.

You then look for Una to make sure she is alright, you find that Chris' alcohol and medications have finally kicked in and he has gotten some sleep.

You reassure Una and tell her not to worry about anything.

The next morning you both wake up and start to gather your equipment together.

You hug Una close and tell her how much you care for her.

"I told you everything was going to be fine." She says to you with a smile, "Let's go home, I miss Behan...and you need someone to do the shopping and cleaning."

Slowly the two of you head home. You start to reflect on the events that have occurred and realize that your life is finally calming down. You open the door of your home to find Zane making Behan laugh by chasing his tail. You watch your family with a smile on your face, glad that everything has worked out for you. You take a seat and call Zane over to join the family for a group hug.

“Good boy” you say to Zane as he begins to wag his tail happily. He gets up and goes over to Behan who is attempting to crawl away to no avail. Zane begins to lick Behan in the face, you watch them both laugh and occasionally look over to Una. You feel truly happy just watching them all. This is real happiness, this must be how Father felt. Time passes and it's nighttime before you know it. You tell Una that you're gonna cook dinner for tonight so she can relax and enjoy her night. With the nightly routine of cooking, cleaning and putting Behan to bed you soon find yourself heading off to bed as well.

As you both lie in bed with Una's hand wrapped around your arm you feel truly complete. There's nowhere else in the world you'd rather be, you have everything you need right here.

Your eyes start to get heavy as you fall asleep with a smile on your face. Your mind drifts from one thing to another as you find yourself entering the druidic realm of dreams. Several hours later you drift back into consciousness and remember the events that have led you here. You open your eyes and slowly sit up, the sun is already high in the sky outside and Una is nowhere to be seen. Knowing that she's probably out hunting, you get out of bed and look out the window. You take a deep breath through your nose and smell the scent of trees, nature, earth, and wild animals. You feel truly at peace in this moment.

With a smile across your face you walk over to Behan's bed and pick him up.

"Come on Behan!" you shout excitedly "Let's go play outside!"

You look outside and everything looks great. The forest, the trees, the earth, everything is perfect. This is your life now, and you wouldn't have it any other way. You set Behan down on the floor and go over to your dresser to grab your clothes. Nature is perfect, yes, but there are simple things in life that make it better. And one of those things is clothes. You put on your typical outfit, nothing too fancy, just your typical wool pants and tunic. With that done, you walk outside to play with Behan in the fields.

Zane wakes up and comes to join in the fun running around in circles and making Behan crawl after his tail. Every day is a happy day when you're with those who matter to you .

As you look out across the fields to watch Una returning from hunting with freshly killed deer, you realize that those that got you through hard times are the ones that matter most.

You will continue life as it is now. There is nothing else you could desire.

You greet Una with a small smile and hold out your arms for the deer carcass.

"Good work Una." You say smiling at her as you lift up the deer.

"Thank you." Una responds looking down at Behan who crawls over to her legs.

The carcass will feed your family for the next few days. You set it down near your home and bring Una inside to rest. She's a hero today and that's all that matters. She deserves to be treated as one.

You Kiss Una on the forehead and lift her in your arms to carry her into the bedroom.

You place her near Behan, and they both fall into a gentle sleep. They look like an angel and a demon sleeping together, but there's no malice in them at all!

You grab your blade and walk over to the deer carcass. You begin to butcher the beast using your vast expertise in limb severing. First, you remove the legs, then the head and then the torso. You work fast because you don't want the meat to begin rotting. With enough salt, you could eat it in a day or so.

Your family will eat good tonight and for the next few days!

Having finished the job you walk back into the house returning to Una's bedside to watch her sleep until dusk arrives.

Throwing in some pork for extra taste, you set out to make the deer meat stew.

The meat and bone will be used to make the stew and the offal fed to Zane who is begging by your side the whole time.

A blue flame envelops your hand and you slam your hand into the oven! The rich scent of flame-broiled deer meat fills the room in an instant.

"Zane! If you eat any more of my food, you won't grow up to be big and strong like me!" You joke at your small but ferocious dog!

Finally, the food is done, and you sit down with Una and Behan to enjoy an evening meal.

Master of fire you may be, but without the love and support of your wife and son you would burn out in a flash. Tonight you are happy and look forward to an amazing life with your family.

You hold Una's hand and thank her for being the amazing woman she is. "I have a goal set for myself tomorrow Una, I'm going to learn to shape shift" you explain. Una smiles and shakes her head fondly at you. "You'll never stop learning will you?" she asks in response. You both laugh and enjoy the evening meal.

[omgkatsudonplease]

yo i haven't seen pd2 in like YEARS but yuuri and victor in your little drabble had me weak and i don't even know what kinda factor they play in the movie or if there's anything else you can give us but i'd love to see more of them because. yes @ them being all over each other in front of everyone when people have shit to do, i.e. important ruling a kingdom stuff

well, the dynamic between the queen and joe in the movies (can’t say much about the books bc it’s been years since i read one of them lmao) is that they’ve got a will they won’t they tension going on and literally the entire damn country ships them (the friggin bishop or…. whatever religious leader officiating the wedding was like “finally” when they did get married in pd2 lolol) and yea that’s probably what i’d be going for. but with a couple tweaks since a lot of details have been shifted around in this au to make it work better with the yoi cast lol

Viktor’s never seen anyone as stoic as Mr Katsuki before in his life. He runs a tight ship, getting all the other security officers into line and smartly suited up. He obsessively goes over every possible breach or flaw at every venue, even drawing up blueprints and maps of the buildings Viktor sets foot in just so he knows the weaknesses of each wall, the locations of each ventilation shaft. He knows the precise details of Viktor’s schedule down to the minute, coordinating with Lilia, his chief advisor and assistant, until everything around the King seems to flow like clockwork, the well-oiled cogs of a machine designed to protect his every step.

“Why are you doing this?” he asks Mr Katsuki once, a couple months into his tenure as chief of security, and Mr Katsuki only smiles a tight, brittle smile that doesn’t reach his calculating yet sparkling eyes.

“I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if you were hurt, Your Majesty,” he replies.

Viktor laughs at just how earnestly serious the man looks. “My life is in your hands already, Mr Katsuki. You might as well call me Viktor.”

There’s a little chink in Mr Katsuki’s armour at that when his cheeks flush visibly pink. “I don’t know if I could, Your Majesty,” he says, his voice quiet, soft, and Viktor immediately realises he’d do anything to see this sort of expression on the man’s face again.

Mr Katsuki is a reassuring shadow at his side, watchful yet protective. Viktor values his work and dedication. Admires his bravery and honour.

But he doesn’t fall in love, though, until one fateful afternoon when he’s leaving his motorcade and a gunman opens fire, and Mr Katsuki is on him in an instant, tackling him onto the asphalt and shielding him with his body. As his heartbeat rings loudly in his ears, Viktor looks up into the wide-eyed expression on his chief of security’s face, and realises that the man is genuinely terrified of losing him.

“Yuuri,” he breathes, reaching up for him. The light haloes Mr Katsuki, making him almost angelic. The noise and commotion fade away with each blink of Mr Katsuki’s long lashes, and then the world fades to white.

When Viktor wakes up, he is in a hospital bed, and Mr Katsuki – Yuuri – has fallen asleep with his fingers inches from Viktor’s own. 

Falling in love is a problem when you’re a king. Especially when it’s with your chief of security. Each demonstration of concern, each command carried out eagerly, each reassuring smile – they could all be part of a careful facade crafted in the name of duty. Viktor’s familiar with careful facades; he lives under one each day even in the comfort of his own palace.

But around Yuuri, he tries to be himself. He gets him to dance (and finds out that Yuuri is quite talented at it). He gets him to play chess (and finds out that Yuuri is a brutal opponent). He gets him to agree to a skating trip on the frozen canals of the city, early in the morning with only the other King’s Guards for company. There, he finds out the sound of Yuuri’s laughter, the shape of his smile, the sparkle of his eyes. He also finds out that being lifted by Yuuri in some pale imitation of pair skating is the closest he’ll ever get to flying.

“What do you think about a ball for my ward?” Viktor wonders one evening in the middle of his paperwork. “He turns 16 in a week, and it’ll be time I paid him a visit and told him who I really was.”

Yuuri hums. “I’m sure that can be arranged,” he says. Viktor looks up from the law he’s reviewing and takes off his reading glasses, frowning.

“What would you do if I gave you the night off that evening, and asked you to come to the ball as my guest?” he asks.

Yuuri’s brows crinkle, almost like he’d never considered such a thing ever happening, and he replies, “I would be honoured, but I don’t usually attend balls.”

“No, you prefer to just lurk in the back in a suit, muttering things to other security guards for the entire evening,” Viktor deadpans, and earns himself a light chuckle.

“I’m not good at parties, Your Majesty; I would be a terrible guest,” insists Yuuri, now adding a pink flush to his smile, and Viktor wants to take a photograph of it and preserve it forever. 

“But you’re such a good dancer.” Viktor pouts. “Come on, just this once, for King and country?”

“If you wanted me to go to a ball for King and country, wouldn’t you just let me do it on duty?”

Viktor sighs. “Don’t make me order you.”

Yuuri’s smile is the widest Viktor’s ever seen on him before. He finds himself desperately wanting to kiss it. “As you wish,” Yuuri replies smoothly, and Viktor’s stomach flutters in response.

The ball had been simultaneously the best and the worst idea Viktor has ever had in his life. 

He knows he should be keeping an eye on the guest of honour, his ward Yuri Plisetsky, who had been raised by his grandfather with the patronage of the King. Tonight is when he announces that Yuri would be his heir and next in line for the throne, but all he can think about instead is Yuuri Katsuki.

Yuuri is radiant under the light of the chandeliers in the ballroom. He is dressed in navy blue, cutting a dashing figure through the whirling dancers. Viktor feels his mouth go dry and his heart race every time he locks eyes with the man, and he sincerely hopes none of it shows on his face.

The ceremonial aspects of the ball go by in a dream-like blur. Each minute separate from Yuuri feels like a year in a desert. But when the dancing resumes, and Viktor finally works up the nerve to ask Yuuri to dance, each minute feels more like a second, and the dance is over in four of them.

He asks for another, and another, even though there are other people he has to dance with, as per Royal protocol. But with each glass of champagne Yuuri gets friendlier and friendlier, and Viktor doesn’t want to lose any more of this night than he already had with all of the pomp and circumstance. With the conclusion of one more dance, he drags Yuuri with him out of the ballroom, onto the terrace. 

Hidden in the rosebushes, fuelled by the countless glasses of champagne, Viktor kisses a hungry line down the column of Yuuri’s neck. Yuuri gasps into the contact, but he doesn’t push Viktor away – only pulls him in to make their lips meet, and Viktor almost cries with joy.

“Oh god,” Yuuri breathes when Viktor pulls back, lips swollen and cheeks flushed. His champagne-clouded eyes are flashing with some emotion Viktor has never seen on him before. “Y – You have no idea how long I’ve – Viktor.”

“Shh,” Viktor whispers, leaning in to kiss him again, his heart leaping into his throat at how easily and beautifully his name rolls off Yuuri’s tongue.“I know.”

“Was I that obvious?” murmurs Yuuri. His hands, though slightly trembling, stroke down Viktor’s cheek with unerring tenderness.

Viktor chuckles. “You said once you weren’t sure what you’d do if I got hurt.”

“I’d do anything for you,” replies Yuuri bluntly.

“And I, for you.”

“Even…” Yuuri purses his lips. “Give up the crown?”

“If it would make you happy,” replies Viktor.

“I don’t want to marry the King.” Yuuri’s expression is earnest. “I want to marry Viktor.”

And that’s the most wonderful thing anyone has ever told him. Water blurs his vision as Viktor blinks rapidly, and then laughs, hugging Yuuri close. In response, Yuuri makes a low noise in his throat that sends heat coursing through Viktor’s veins. His lips are on Yuuri’s almost immediately after, and it doesn’t take long after that for Viktor to lose himself completely.

In the morning, Viktor finds himself fully clothed in his own bed. According to reports from the rest of the King’s Guard, Yuuri had to call for backup after Viktor had passed out in his arms while they had been in the garden, ostensibly from alcohol. The guards had returned him to his room fully-clothed and he had gone to bed almost immediately.

Yuuri doesn’t meet his gaze for a solid week after.

The years pass, and with each day things get worse. Yuuri continues to be loyal, dependable, stoic. Viktor continues to love him.

Yuri grows up, studies international politics at Georgetown in the United States. Once he graduates, he moves to Petersburg, begins learning the ropes of ruling the kingdom. Viktor watches his not-so-little ward all the while, his own heart aching when he sees him dancing with everyone at the annual Midsummer Ball. Yuuri, by contrast, is on duty at this event, sober and untouchable.

Viktor clings onto the memory of the warmth of Yuuri’s body and the perfume of the roses, and waits. 

He waits too long. “I’m thinking of moving on,” Yuuri admits to him after a game of chess one night, a couple months after Yuri has moved into the palace. “It’s getting too hard for me.”

“What’s getting too hard?” Viktor asks. “I can see what I can do to get you accommodations.”

“No, Your Majesty.” Yuuri’s eyes are sad. “That’s not what I’m talking about.”

Viktor doesn’t know how or why, but suddenly there’s something wet and hot rolling down his cheeks, and blinking only makes it worse. “But you can’t leave,” he says, plaintively. “I need you.” I love you, he adds, but no matter how hard he thinks it Yuuri would never be able to read his mind. 

“Petersburg needs you more than I do,” replies Yuuri quietly. “You are a King first. I’m just a coward who keeps letting my personal feelings get in the way of my work.”

“No!” Viktor reaches out, grabs Yuuri’s hand. “You’re the best man I’ve ever met. You’re so beautiful and brave and loyal and – and – you asked me once if I would give up my crown for you. And I said yes.”

“You were drunk,” Yuuri points out. “And so was I. I could barely remember anything from that night.”

“The answer’s still yes.” Viktor presses tearstained kisses to Yuuri’s hands, watching the way the man’s eyes widen in shock as he does. “Please, Yuuri, stay close to me.”

Yuuri swallows. “Your –” he begins, and then catches himself. “Viktor.” Quietly, he tugs his hands free of Viktor’s grasp. “I could never ask you to do something so selfish.”

At the sound of that, Viktor feels something hard crystallising around the pieces of his heart. “Maybe I’m not the selfish one this time,” he snaps, and watches in a strange pained satisfaction as Yuuri’s expression crumples.

“You’ll have my resignation by the end of the month,” his chief of security says simply, and leaves without another sound.

Yuri is halfway into the cathedral before he bolts, and Viktor chases after him, finding him in a smaller chapel in the same building, the stained glass windows casting coloured light across his pale, terrified face.

“You don’t have to go through with this,” Viktor says quietly, startling the young man from his reverie. 

Yuri’s jaw is harsh. “Who’s the one who herded me through all of this?” he growls, tugging hatefully at the collar of his starched military uniform.

Viktor sighs. “I’m sorry,” he says, and enters the chapel to sit next to his ward. “I’m sorry I’ve put all of this on your shoulders.”

Yuri rolls his eyes. “It’s not your fault there’s a stupid law about how I have to marry before I can take the throne,” he points out.

“Laws can be changed,” Viktor replies. “Most of Parliament is here, you know.”

He raises an eyebrow. Yuri gets it, nods.

“So you admit you were just doing this for vicarious kicks, huh?” he asks.

Viktor laughs, rubs sheepishly at his nape. “I admit nothing,” he says, and Yuri rolls his eyes.

And after his ward has successfully ended the engagement with Prince Chulanont and forced Parliament to get rid of the adoptive heir wedding law, he takes Yuuri aside. Moments later, and to everyone’s consternation, Yuuri reenters the cathedral sanctuary and heads straight for Viktor.

“I’m sorry I haven’t had the chance to hand in my resignation yet,” he begins. Viktor opens his mouth, wanting an explanation, but Yuuri holds up a hand. “So this is the next best thing – Viktor Nikiforov, will you do me the honour of becoming my husband?”

(Viktor’s not sure if he’s just hearing things, but it sounds like the entire congregation has just breathed a sigh of relief.)

His smile is so wide that it hurts. “Yes,” he says, and watches with butterflies fluttering in his stomach as Yuuri takes off his headpiece and offers them to Mrs Nishigori, his deputy. Yuuri then extends an arm, and Viktor takes it eagerly as they make their way up the aisle.

At the altar, Yuuri takes his hands with a smile, before looking to the Archbishop. “I would like to take this man as my husband,” he states, “if he would have me.”

“Well, it was about time,” the Archbishop declares, and Viktor can’t help but laugh.

[marcythewerewolf]

I don't know if you take requests for fanfics or not but I thought I'd ask: do you think you could write something like the aftermath of LoS with the blackthorns? Waiting 2 years is gonna kill me, and there's hardly any ff of them. If you don't though I'm sorry for asking!!!!

(I do do requests, thank you for asking so nicely. Been a while since I stretched my fanfic writing fingers.

It took me a while to get this out, mostly because it ended up a lot longer than I expected, so. 4k of post LOS Blackthorns (and the Wild Hunt) under the cut. Featuring funeral pyres, running from the law, shell shocked war children, Diana and Gwyn being lowkey cute in a highkey horrible situation, and Helen and Aline staying with their family.)

It was Helen who got them out of Idris. Helen who first realized how dangerous the situation around them was becoming, Helen who pulled them to their feet and pulled them together and saved them.

Julian refused to leave Livvy’s body, so Mark helped carry her corpse out onto the chaotic streets. Aline led, using force of personality and her mother’s name to force them through the line of guards around the Gard. Dru held up the still shivering Ty and Kit hovered trying to look helpful but instead just coming across as shellshocked. He kept running into people.

Diana and Cristina and Emma were running security, weapons out, keeping threats at bay, shielding the half faeries and the dead girl in their midst from view. If Mark and Helen had been getting terrible looks before, now they were the focus of undiluted hatred. The Blackthorns had brought evil amongst their midst, and they were probably going to be arrested as soon as everyone started thinking right again. It was best to get to safety before the hubbub settled down.

“We need to leave,” Julian whispered, “We need to get Tavvy and go.”

“Where?” Helen asked, “They’ll find us. We should go back to the Penhallows and wait for Jia.”

Emma snarled, sounding like a demon in the night. “Waiting for the Clave never works. Robert was our best chance and he’s dead. I don’t know politics, but I can’t imagine things are going to shake out well for us.” She jumped back, out of the way of a fully armoured warrior sprinting up the street toward the Gard

“Livvy…” Ty mumbled, and Julian reached over to wrap a hand around his limp wrist, the closest thing to comfort he could manage while keeping them moving.

“It’s okay, baby,” Julian promised, to the ashen Dru as well as his little brother. “We’re going to be fine.

Diana had been mostly silent up until that point, blood stained and contemplative as they traipsed down the streets, hurrying along to Diana’s Arrow where Tavvy and the Lightwood-Bane children were tucked away. Now, she spoke up.

“We are, because we’re going to call Gwyn.”

For a second, there was silence. Then:

“Gwyn the Hunter? Kidnapped Mark Gwyn?” Aline looked dubious at best. The events of the past few weeks had been so speedy, it was easy to forget how quickly they’d all happened.

“He’s on our side,” Mark said, absently. “Though he probably isn’t going to be happy about us misplacing Kieran. Turns out he’s super into tattooed Shadowhunter teachers.” The words sounded like they were coming from someplace else entirely. With his little sister’s corpse in his arms, Mark didn’t seem to be the most emotionally present. Still, Emma had to giggle, at him, and at Helen and Aline’s confusion, and at the whole situation. It was awful, it was all so awful. 

“It bet he’s really tired of hearing from us,” she said, as Diana’s Arrow came into view.

Julian was starting to come back to himself, starting to remember his instincts. “If we’re leaving Idris, we’ll want supplies. Money, weapons, clean clothes, food. We’ll need a sheet for Livvy’s body, before Tavvy sees her. I don’t want him getting scared.”

Kit stumbled into Emma and out of his reverie. Poor kid probably hadn’t seen a lot of death before. “I could probably keep an eye on Octavian and the babies,” he offered. “Since you guys are better at weapons and stuff than I am.”

“I’ll help,” Cristina cut in quickly, clearly not trusting Kit alone with three small children. “I think one of the Lightwoods is with them, we’ll need to distract them. I can do that too.”

Diana glanced around the empty street thoughtfully. Not all Idris houses were always occupied, especially in times like these. “There isn’t much in the way of supplies in the store itself, however I think under the circumstances I could borrow food from a few neighbours.”

“I can run back home and grab clothes for the little ones,” Aline said smartly, already eyeing the distance to the Penhallow townhouse “It’s not far, and if I wear a glamour I don’t think anyone will notice me.”

“Someone should go with you,” Helen insisted, taking her wife’s hand. It was an unspoken given that Helen herself couldn’t. That would be asking too much of the world. They’d had enough luck already

Emma volunteered quickly.

It was amazing, how fast Shadowhunter instincts, drilled in since childhood, took over in a crisis. There was no time for tears when you needed to survive. Only Kit was still crying, and he was doing it silently, holding onto Ty’s arm tightly like the other Blackthorn twin might disappear too.

 Ty wasn’t a good Shadowhunter. He was never going to be. It wasn’t in his bones, or his brain. There were many things exceptional about him, but the pieces of his mind primed to cope with a crisis weren’t very high on the list. He looked like a dead man walking, pale as the grave, grey eyes flat in his thin, empty face.

They’d all seen him have meltdowns before, loud and catastrophic. This was the quiet period afterwards, where all systems were on minimal power, his entire head trying to recuperate from something so groundshaking it had hurt him at his core. Dru was holding him lightly, in case he needed to not be touching anyone, because she knew a little better than Kit did.

Within fifteen minutes, the Lightwood-Banes had been sent away, they had bags packed up, and Tavvy was being consoled by Julian. Livvy’s body was laid out on Diana’s kitchen table, wrapped all in white.

Diana was upstairs, talking to Gwyn, (Privately, she had insisted) and while she was gone, Julian did a headcount. It was more complex than it had once been. 

Once it had gone, Emma, the twins, Dru, and Tavvy.

Tavvy and Dru, check, sobbing quietly on the couch with daggers and their knapsacks packed.

Emma, right next to him, a steadying presence, so solid he felt he might start orbiting around her.

The twins… at the table, more or less. One of them at it, head bowed, one of them on it, still as the grave.

Angel help them, Livia. Julian still couldn’t fully process it without his mind turning to thoughts of fire and blood and Annabel’s hapless destruction and the Cohort’s endless cruelty. That wasn’t helpful. Revenge didn’t keep the children safe.

There were more now too. There was Kit, standing over Ty and staring at thin air with a slightly alarmed expression, face working with unspoken words. Poor boy probably hadn’t seen a lot of deaths before, certainly not of someone his own age. Livvy had liked him so much too.

Mark and Helen were standing together, their stolen siblings returned to them too late, curly heads bowed together, talking fast with their hands. Aline was nearby, sharpening a sword. She looked reluctant to abandon her mother, but if Helen was going, Aline was going with her, and Helen would not be parted from them again. That was an unspoken certainty. Julian had lost two sisters and gotten one back and he would never let anyone take her away again.

Cristina was by the front window, on lookout duty and doing a very poor job of it, because she kept checking her phone. She was worried about Diego and the missing Kieran, Julian knew, but the chances of two people last seen disappearing together into a portal getting in touch via text seemed slim.

Emma’s hand felt like a brand on the skin of his arm when she touched him. “Jules, Diana is coming.”

She was, descending the stairs like a movie star in a crisp grey tunic, with solid battle leathers underneath. There was a bag slung over her shoulder, and she was looking around the shop with regret.

Almost everyone, except the out of it Kit and Ty, looked over at her.

“I talked to Gwyn,” she said simply, “He’ll meet us in Brocelind forest. We’re going to need horses.”

The meeting place decided on was one of the blighted spots Helen and Aline knew of but the Cohort probably didn’t, hidden from angelic magic, but therefore vulnerable. Going there was an act of sacrifice. It meant they had little power except that they made themselves. They were putting their trust in Gwyn, utterly, but they didn’t have a lot of other options.

Cristina and Emma had secured a half a dozen horses from a Clave outpost on the edge of the city, through a combination of clever lies and flat out theft, while everyone else snuck out between the demon towers. That was one of the advantages to all being Shadowhunters, more or less. The wards weren’t made with them in mind.

Leaving Livvy behind was unacceptable, so they wrapped her in winding sheets and Julian and Emma cradled her stiffening form between them. She was heavy in death, but not especially big, even for a fifteen year old. If she’d lived, she probably would have grown. Now she was frozen, five foot even, petite, and bloodless with the handle of the Mortal Sword still lodged in her chest. (Another reason why someone was going to come after them soon. Julian increasing suspected there was a coup going on, because there the streets were empty and there was a lot of noise coming from the Gard, but that could only distract everyone for so long.) Taavy couldn’t even look at her. Helen was holding him close, and he was clinging to her even though he only remembered her from phone calls and Christmas letters.

They rode, doubled up where they needed to be. Shadowhunter steeds were sturdier than the faerie kind, made to carry fully armed warriors. They could handle a few teenagers and some luggage, at least for a short voyage. Mark proved oddly terrible at handling skittish mortal horses, made of flesh and blood and requiring saddles and other cumbersome things, but most of them had some riding lessons.

It turned out it felt a lot less like running away if you did it on a horse, with your little brother in front of you, shaking with fear but refusing to say a thing because Shadowhunter children never cried out in a crisis.

Gwyn had brought his hunters with him to the blighted place and they took in the assembled group with some alarm.

There were mutters, some calls out to Mark (friendly and derogatory alike), and, as they dismounted, a steady count.

“Eleven!” one of the hunters finally said loudly, once they were all down. “Eleven shadowhunters, counting our own dear Blackthorn. Gwyn, Gwyn, Gwyn, what a sight you have brought to our eyes.”

“Eleven and a body,” another faerie clear voice corrected. Ty flinched and Emma’s hand went for Cortana before Mark restrained her.

“Nine and two of our own kind,” said someone more charitably, “That girl has the look of the Lady Nerissa, for I knew her well.” Now it was Helen’s turn to pause, shrink back.

Gwyn silenced them all with a wave of his hand and dismounted on the ash that passed for earth. The place seemed haunted, even more so since it was so close to Lake Lyn. As soon as they’d entered the circle of ruin, they’d all felt the same unsettling chill in their bones.

“Diana Wrayburn,” he said, softly, kissing her hand. “Mark Blackthorn. Where is Kieran?”

“We, uh…” Mark said, looking guilty and terrified. He and Cristina had both sent fire messages to Diego and Kieran before they’d left, both had the same loving worry on their faces. Kieran was a knot of a person (faerie) but the affection they felt for him was clear and real.

“When conflict broke out in the Hall of Accords, my cousin knew it would be blamed on the fair folk,” Cristina said quickly. “We think he tried to get Kieran to safety. They were seen leaving, but we haven’t been able to get in touch with them. We’re still trying to figure out where they went, but it’s difficult. That’s one of the reasons we wanted to speak with you.”

Gwyn considered her with his serious, bi-coloured eyes, one as pale as the day and the other inky as night. “And what could I do, little rose bush, that a Shadowhunter could not?”

“If you are worried about Kieran,” Cristina said carefully, “You could check the Rosales family home in Oaxaca. It is where Diego and Jaime grew up. It has sheltered the hadas before, perhaps he hoped it could now. I am sorry to say, we don’t have a lot of resources at the moment. We’re kind of…” she gestured at their state, the panicking horses at the edge of the ring of ruin, the tangle of children- Dru and Kit and Tavvy and Ty and Julian- sitting exhausted on the forest floor, watched over by Emma. Aline and Helen looked barely any better. They were adults, but they had spent most of their adulthood in a prison. Now they were just tired and holding onto each other.

“Annabel Blackthorn killed the Inquisitor,” Diana said bluntly. “She did so in front of the entire Council. She killed her own blood as well, the Blackthorns’ sister.” Raw grief bled from Diana’s voice, but she at least had the self control to keep talking. “After that… fears for Kieran’s safety weren’t unfounded on Diego Rosales part, if that was his motive. Frankly I’m not sure if it’s safe back there for Julian or the rest of the children, much less Mark or Helen.”

“Shadowhunter politics,” Gwyn said coldly, but he did seem sad. “One of your own children is dead and all you can do is threaten more of them. Though I wish I could lend you all my strength, I am not sure there is much aid I can render here, Lady Wrayburn. Would that I could take you all into the Hunt… but I suspect my hunters might object.”

There were mixed jeers from the hunters behind him, weighted with a healthy dose of fear. They did not take Gwyn lightly, but they were fair folk and that meant they tended towards a sort of organized anarchy, where opinions had weight.

“Besides, as frightening as Shadowhunters are, I do not think your gaggle of children would do well among our number.”

“Mark was bad enough!” a hunter shouted. Gwyn rolled his eyes, a surprisingly human gesture from a faerie lord.

“Hark, I cannot keep order among them now. I fear Emma Carstairs might destroy discipline utterly. So, what favour can I lend you that is within my means and does not contradict the interests of my Hunt, my lady?”

There were more mutters now, a general sense that this was more blatant favouritism than Gwyn had shown in centuries and it was fascinating to watch. Somewhere inside the mass of bodies and hooves and inhuman features, people were taking notes.

The Wild Hunt was fanning out as well, moving closer and closer to the huddle of the Blackthorns and company. One of them smiled toothily at Helen, who didn’t pause before snapping back with her dainty, pearly teeth. In the moonlight, her ears seemed even sharper. A faerie on a gazelle whistled appreciatively.

The horses were starting to spook in the presence of all these not-horses, and Emma had to go and flex her limited equestrian skills to tie them to some of the less sickly looking trees. As she did, a faerie man with broad shoulders and a beard full of moss sidled over her her.

“Art thou Emma Carstairs?” he asked. All of the fey had a gift for tongues, but he had a distinct accent. Scottish, maybe, or something broader.

“I art,” she said, shrugging her shoulders until the uneasy cold lifted someone from them. If this was going to be a fight, she wanted to go into it swinging.

“You bested the Unseelie King’s champion?”

“I did.” Emma confirmed uneasily.

He clapped her across the shoulders so hard she stumbled forward. “Good on ye, girlchild! He’s a levereter, indeed.”

She retreated, unsure if the endorsement of a suspicious faerie in the courts’ equivalent of a prison gang was a good thing or not. Having seen the Seelie and Unseelie, she was inclined to say it was.

When she returned to Julian and his pile of Blackthorns (and a still distracted Kit), Diana was just finishing up her negotiations.

“The Los Angeles Institute is abandoned,” she reported. “The Hunt will take us there and then take their leave.”

“Better than Uber,” Emma whispered, and Cristina smothered a giggle.

Julian stood, hefting Taavy onto his hip even though he was too big really to be carried. “Wait! Before we leave, we- we need to…”

He was looking at Livvy’s body, laid out in the green grass the bordered the place where death began.

“We should burn her,” Helen finished, saving her little brother again. “We should give her a proper Shadowhunter funeral.”

Diana didn’t look convinced. “I’m not sure we have the time-”

“No.”

Ty’s voice was hoarse, as if he hadn’t used it in years.

“She was a warrior,” he told them firmly. “We have to burn her, now. Or else- or else-” Annabel’s haunted eyes lingered in their minds. The Black Book was missing, necromancy was a real and present threat.

Kit took his hand.

Gwyn coughed, politely. “I know little about Shadowhunter funerals,” he said, “But I agree. It does not do to leave the honorably fallen on the battlefield for long.”

It was settled.

It wasn’t fair, Emma thought, that they had to bury their Livvy so far from home. None of it was fair. She wanted to scream, for Julian, for Ty, for the little girl she’d taught how to throw knives.

They should have burned her on the beach by the Institute, they should have taken her back, but that was a variable they couldn’t afford. Better to do it here. 

Arthur hadn’t gotten a funeral with his family. The stupid Cohort had probably torched him in the backyard with barely an Ave Atque Vale for it. Andrew had been Forsaken, and the Clave had decided they shouldn’t give a proper funeral to him either. The Blackthorns didn’t deserve to go through that again.

The Hunt helped collect branches with a minimum of taunts. Helen and Aline took the body down the water, away from everyone else, and washed her. They came back with half the Mortal Sword and Livvy looking less bloody but still terribly, sickeningly dead. The white sheets stolen from Diana’s clung to her body, even after they’d been dried out and marked all over with runes for purification and burning and mourning.

There wasn’t the time for a proper ceremony, with white clothes and gold bands and runes sketched out. Mark and Julian and the Hunt built the pyre while Emma tried desperately to arrange Livia’s hair so she looked like a warrior who had fallen in battle and not a child in braids.

Ty was just staring. Dru had retreated, with a inconsolate Tavvy and Diana who seemed to be grieving in her own private way. Gwyn was with them, which was the only reason Emma wasn’t worrying. At some point he’d gone from an enemy to a stalwart ally.

Kit wasn’t looking at Livia’s body, but the air several feet behind Ty. He kept blinking away tears, but he was smiling. Emma thought maybe he was having an emotional crisis, but that was none of her business.

Julian came over from the edifice of wood being built just on the green side of the border between blight and Idris, where runes could be counted on to work. “It’s done as it’s going to be,” he said softly. He and Helen and Mark started to go to move her body, but Ty stopped them.

“A warrior is burned with a weapon,” he said steadily, tucking a knife between Livvy’s folded hands. He regarded his twin’s body for a second, looking at her blankly, like he couldn’t quite process what he was seeing. Then he leaned over, whispered something in her ear, and let his older siblings take her away.

The Wild Hunt wasn’t a traditional audience for a funeral, but it was clear they’d never seen a Shadowhunter one before and were behaving themselves out of curiosity, at least. Multicoloured, mismatched eyes, some glowing, some not, stared out at them from the woods.

Cristina had found wildflowers, Queen Anne’s Lace, mostly, for the bier in the living part of the woods. Livvy rested in a sea of lacy white, against which even her dead complexion had some tint. A double layer of sheets- only slightly pink with blood- covered up the ruin of her chest. Against that glimmered steel.

There were a lot of words you said at a Shadowhunter funeral, and then again there weren’t a lot at all. This wasn’t a Shadowhunter funeral though, it was a Blackthorn one.

For the third time that day, Helen took up her place as the eldest sibling, while Julian stood, helpless and shivering in Emma’s embrace. She stood up on tiptoes, kissed Livvy’s brow, and addressed the crowd.

“Most of you didn’t know my sister. I think, after so many years away from her, maybe I didn’t know my sister. You don’t need to know her to admire what she did. When her family was threatened, she was the first one forward. Older Shadowhunters shrank back, but she didn’t. She fought to protect the people she cared about, to protect the woman who stood with a sword in hand ready to kill, because she was family too. Livia Blackthorn was brave and she loved people so much. She died with the Mortal Sword in her chest.”

Helen held it up like a war trophy, shattered and shining. The Wild Hunt knew a good bit of theater when they were given it. They gasped appreciatively. Diana and Gwyn sighed in sync. Julian rocked back, holding Tavvy tight.

“She was fifteen. She liked lipgloss, and cute boys, and videos of kittens. She used to write me letters with pressed desert flowers in them and send Aline chapstick in the winter. Her name was Livia Blackthorn, she was brave, and she died.”

It was Mark who lit the pyre, when he got tired of the process of elimination. It went up with a dull whoomph of air being sucked in, and heat blasted everyone within ten feet. It was possible that Julian and Emma shouldn’t have put flammability runes on together.  

Julian did another headcount as they mounted up to go back to Los Angeles and relative safety. It was possible they’d have to barricade themselves in there, but at least it was home.

Emma was next to him, warm like a fire and twice as angry. He could feel it, pulsing through their parabatai bond, a development he was too tired to be worried about at the moment.

Tavvy was in between them, small and skinny and damp. Riding with the Hunt without letting him go was going to be an interesting challenge.

Aline and Helen were talking to faeries, and not yelling yet, which he was counting as a win. They’d put themselves in charge of the miscellaneous bags gathered before they left Diana’s house and they were piled up around them like a fortress.

Mark and Cristina were trying to call Kieran again, and were being hassled by the Hunt as they did so. Things seemed to get decidedly less polite when Gwyn’s back was turned and at the moment Gwyn was distracted with the Idris horses. Diana was with him. They were talking, quietly, and quite possibly holding hands in the rising darkness.

Dru had tried to talk to some Hunters, had fared poorly, and then retreated back to the safety of Helen’s shadow, since Helen seemed to scare most of them. They were definitely holding hands, with the desperation of sisters who had been separated and were now determined not to let go.

Kit and Ty were off by themselves, talking softly. Well, mostly Kit was talking. Ty was listening, with an odd expression on his face. It was somewhere between relief and disbelief. Kit really did make him act strangely.

Before Julian could puzzle that out further, and hand fell on his shoulder, heavy and gloved. It was Gwyn, and his face was… not unkind. “Young Blackthorn,” he said, “Gather your troops. We must away.”

He was a Shadowhunter. All he really knew how to do was troop gather.

As they left Idris, Livvy was a column of fire behind them, lighting up the whole night sky.