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santajp · 2 years

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Lynx TF - "Dreams"

I looked out my window, eating the last chips I had brought. They barely were enough to surpass any discomfort I felt. Being cramped into a seat for hours of the morning was already bad, but being trapped with someone who wouldn’t shut up was worse. Their babbles on the greatness of being stuck in the middle of nowhere and taking me along for that “experience” filled my ears better than any song could. Even listening half-heartly, I found myself asking Yule, “When will we get there,” more frequently. I got my phone, which only sat at half battery, before he spoke to me.

“I’ll make sure to show you everything I can, cousin! You’ll love it!”

“Yep, yep. I’m sure...”

My screen lit up to show it still on their website. “Pawfore Preserve: Where Dreams Live,” was centered with a slew of reviews and icons of many animals they protected. There were simple comments, complimenting the forest as a great place for photos, and weirder ones, that would go in length about how they loved being lost in it. Though each ladder comment always had one of an animal icon beside it, most likely to show some sort of membership status. Over them was the last text from my parents, saying to have fun and not be a bother. Though they clearly didn’t know how much of an uphill battle that’d be.

I saw the forest while we drove pass and dropped my head onto the door rim. The only dream I had was this trip not being such a pain.

After a few minutes, we reached wooden gates to a cabin sitting on the roadside. It reminded me of a movie, being run down with lanterns hanging near its door, and when mixed with the forest’s falling leaves and thin mist, made me only gaze until Yule’s door slammed shut. I put my coat on and begrudgingly walked out, trying to follow him past an official sign for the preserve. If that or the cabin wasn’t there, I would have called it wilderness.

“Yule, you are you certain this place isn’t closed?”

“I’m sure. There just aren’t many people yet, especially not on a weekday and this early. Everything we need to see is twenty-four seven!”

I nodded awkwardly, seeing him open the cabin door for me and a few stray leaves. Smells of sweetness almost like cinnamon hit my nose alongside gripping warmth. Though nearly broken from what I saw, the returning conveniences inside made this feel close to home. While I rushed for the AC, Yule moved to speak with a woman behind the counter.

“Welcome! What you here for?”

“I’m Yule. I booked for the two next days.”

She smiled and got to work, getting what seemingly was his files. He didn’t tell me this was an appointment or that this would be for more than this one day. “No wonder he brought that tent along” , I thought. He wanted me to almost die out here with him.

Yule got our papers managed and pulled me further into the cabin. We walked through a main hall to an opening at its end. The place looked small outside, but whatever large section was next got Yule jumpy. I looked to him, almost telling him to stop before turning around to suddenly jump myself. The sight of a large cat gave me goosebumps, how real it looked not helping any return to relaxation.

“W-what is that thing!? And why is just around the corner like that!?”

“This is where they have fake models of the animals! That one is a lynx. I’ve always wanted to see one, and they’re pretty common around here, just not at this time of year.”

I recomposed myself, quickly moving to the others with him. “Good, whatever it is better not scare me again.” I lowered my voice. “I hate this pla-“

A gust of chill air hit my back, making shivers run through me. I was going to slam whatever open door or window caused it shut. The only thing stopping me was seeing nothing when I turned around. Everything was closed with that creepy cat still behind me.

Running to catch up, I passed information and maps above each model. They had small paths and areas doused in red alongside information about each animal. Though Yule didn’t need to read them to begin his ramblings, talking about them in length from memory alone.

“Why do you know all of this?”

“I always like going here. I have since I was a kid. You don’t have a place like this?”

“No, because we have things to do instead. I’m surprised you’re given time to remember.”

“Well, maybe you should try it. You won’t be so grumpy all the time,” he chuckled.

I tried to retort, but Yule already started moving away. Once out the back door, he moved down the path and said nothing. I couldn’t tell if it was spite or just how much he knew this place compared to me. Though I wasn’t going to question it, especially if this was the person I’d be with for a night. I just had to make sure to keep everything close to me.

Walking to our campsite was a balancing act, of thinking and not trying to step on something alive and ready to bite. Yule’s remark stuck in my head with the steps. I found myself wanting to be distracted from it, putting on my headphones for that exact purpose, but it still rose to the forefront of my mind. Maybe I wasn’t the most enthusiastic, but he had to see where I was coming from. Going crazy over everything wasn’t better. I understood that I was not much, never did much, and couldn’t even muster much. His hope was annoying, but it somewhat made me think of if I could care. It made me think of the what if’s and…

…made me wish I did, for a moment.

Though I snapped out of it when a gust of wind went right over my skin. “Dammit! Yule, when will we be there!?”

I looked around, stopping to feel my shoes slide on sudden mud. There was only the path, covered in a dense fog that I didn’t think was there before. I pulled off my headphones and called again.

“Y-yule? Where are you!?”

The ground almost looked the same as I walked backward, tracing my steps.

“Did I take a wrong turn? How did I get here?”

My mouth was quickly covered by my hands. I thought I only- thought those questions, but now they were being spoken without my effort. Even as I began to ramble to myself, I could hear Yule somewhere through that. He said something in repetition, too far away for my ears to grasp. I ran forward, yelling out his name and hearing the words become more clear with a light in the distance.

“I’ve always wanted to see one…”

“Yule, what are you saying!? Forget the cat! This isn’t funny!”

The fog grew deep enough for me to not see my hands and legs. I only felt that I was moving towards something and knew of it until I tripped to the ground, thankfully slamming into a pile of leaves.

“…such a pain…always wanted to see one…what if…”

It was our voices, me and Yule’s speaking those words. Even his off-hand comment slowly mixed into them before then came another and another. They interwove and mended, strung into endless sounds that I knew were connected. Subsumed into times I was mentioned, perhaps with intent of not knowing, and brought to doubted feelings, perhaps too deep for showing, the stream of consciousness grew until it was silenced by a single thought.

“I wish my cousin loved me,” Yule said.

Then it went silent for a moment. The first sound that hit my ears was cracking leaves as I pushed myself up, my hands slowly rising to hold my head and grip it to stay quiet. All the thoughts mattered little to the last, one that caught me off guard enough to freeze me to the spot. I never liked this. I couldn’t like this. I thought of what made me tense up when Yule began to speak, the passion that made my gut react. It was always pushed onto him to alleviate, but now, where nobody else stood to take the blame, I laid alone to bear its bluntness. A mix of regret and apprehension came to me, questions of why I could not do the same or of why he had things I didn’t. Like the thoughts of before they began to surrounded me. My ears were filled with their words and any thought out of them would only be consumed. All paths of my ideas led to judgement or my lack of not having something to fight against it. For each person I saw seemed to show things I hated, things I spited with bated breaths and words, unable to release them until whatever force this was pulled them out of me. Hearing them all out loud made my blood boil at no one but myself.

I sounded pitiful. I couldn’t even control my own head. Though I knew something made me still focus on my anger. Though I felt that I couldn’t, though the apprehension froze me before, I couldn’t bring myself to ignore it any longer. I didn’t want this. I didn’t want this for anyone. I wanted to live for whatever this feeling was, even if I knew I had never done what I should’ve before.

My thoughts came back and were spoken in the same manner as before.

“I wish- I wish to make Yule happy!”

I heard the silence come back before a tingling sensation emerged around me, fomenting at my tense hands. I could hear myself breathing. Though it sounded different, attuning more to a low growl.

I looked up to see sky emerging from the fog, feeling that tense nature flowing around me, before pain forced a glance to my hands. Their fingers shook as small, pale hairs grew out. Thickening rapidly, managing to cover the wide brown pads that came onto my skin, I saw my nails sharpening towards the central pad on my palm. Though it too was quickly covered by that same softness.

“W-what is going on!? Grrr-“

I jumped at hearing my own growl intensify but felt my hands relax into their new form, the cold mist no longer getting through their layers of fur.

A sudden snap behind me, pushing the front of my body and forepaws back onto leaves, confirmed that. The sensations grew further away from my arms. I could see my shoes raising their heels, stretching to something inside that already made a clear indent. It tightened until shoelaces snapped alongside black fabric and plastic reaching their limits, letting my hindpaws rip out to slide across the grass. Their pads gripped the ground better than any shoe could, giving a rush that pushed my new hackles to quickly rise. With them broken, I stretched out my body, moving my back upward as something small sprouted from it and my clothes felt less fitting in way that permeated any feeling they had on my skin. It became less about how oversized they were and more about why I even had them at all. It wasn’t just a small inconvenience; it was entirely unnecessary; and a instinctual reactions came out of me. Gone was the focus on my legs contorting into a digitigrade or the clear loss of my masculine features as my forepaws began to claw at my shirt and coat relentlessly.

For moments at a time, I’d see the world brighten before dimming, colors intensifying before being reduced to a clear back and white. The world became larger by the seconds, my head sliding into the shirt and coat, where I could see every seam and bit of fabric to scratch at. It also made the heat of my thick fur became too much to ignore. While pulling myself out them, I could feel my head pulsing, shifting inside the darkness while I struggled. First was the smells, which yearned for the nature caught in their dry nostrils. Then was the sounds, which stopped before coming back with an unearthly force that was almost painful. I gritted my teeth as I tried to keep my emerging snout closed, taking the sounds until one caught my attention. Hearing Yule, clearer than I ever had, brought me back from my natural trace.

“Yule!?”

The words only came out as quick mew, but my thoughts were finally enough for me to focus. I felt my whiskers rub against the cloth as my head finally poked out, showing its furry sides and defined eyes that scoped the area in single second. My ears shifted to listen until I heard his voice again, a single word from him being all I needed to start running. Going into the fog as my layered paws traversed the ground via an intuition I never knew I had, the once menacing trees became stepping stones of scents and positions, their density lowering as I reached the edge of the forest. My nose twitched to a sweet smell and my eyes gazed upon a familiar hue. I felt my heart pound faster than it ever had once I lunged over a grey stone to slide into something after landing.

“Woah!? Are you alright?”

I looked up to see Yule, who stared at me in awe in front of the cabin’s back. I jumped to paw at his leg, trying to explain what had happened.

“I’m so sorry for everything! Though you gotta help! This is…” “…Mew! Meoo! Meow! Mew!”

“It’s alright! You don’t have to do that. You shouldn’t even be approaching me like this…”

“Crud! H-how could I explain? I can still spell! I just need something to wriii~” *purr*

His hand was on my head, moving around thick fur softly. Something about it made my ears lower and the rest if me move on its own. I pushed into his hand and looked up, seeing his smile while he scratched the underside of my chin. It was the final thing I saw before I stopped thinking as hard, just accepting the pets until the woman stepped out of the door.

“Hello! You seem to have found a friend.”

“Well, I’m not sure if I can call it that. It just ran up to me. Got any idea why?”

Her eyes did a quick glance, taking note of my blissful face and the small hops of my paws. Though she looked especially at my eyes, which were the same color as when we arrived.

“I just think this lynx likes you. You should play with her a bit!”

“Wait, really!?”

“Yep, feel free. It’s rather rare to see them at this time of year, as you already know.”

She quickly walked back inside after a wink to my blissful face, right when Yule began to try asking about something else too. His attempts to follow were stopped by me wrapping around him and asking for more attention, which he gave with little resistance. I loved every second of it. The slight nagging in my head to contest what she said grew more silent. I had nothing to do. Whatever it was different didn’t matter, not as much as pets clearly!

His smile made my own widen and perfectly sat into the smallest things that I could now notice. Though unknown to me, that feeling of wanting to wander those small aspects made me feel like I was home, it changing and telling me that I could always do the same.

I rolled onto my back and raised my paws, letting out a small and happy meow.

#sfw furry #clean furry #transfur #transformation #gender transformation #short story

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wellshitididntthinkidenduphere · 19 days

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Ummmmm first post? Probably won’t post that often lol

Anyways here’s a poem I won second place for at school, got a cool little badge and everything, and a £10 amazon gift card, the guy that got first didn’t even know what he was there for omg- I accept any and all criticism :D

I don’t really like this but I think that’s just I’m the one who wrote it, it’s also in Scots so sorry if you cannae read it properly :( hope anyone who sees it likes it though! Xxx

Very unimaginatively called “Scottish Poem” god I hope no one I know figures out this is me—

Runnin’ up the glen, whaur we gaun?

A dinnae ken, but Scotland’s bonnie glens sae fair,

Whaur bens rise wi’ grandeur rare,

Wi’ every step, a tale appears,

O’ clans an’ warriors through the years,

Echoes o’ their hopes an’ fears,

The legends that they share,

In misty moors an’ heath’ry hills.

Nature’s beauty rugged, wild,

In every scene we’re beguiled,

Fae Loch Lomond’s tranquil waters,

Tae Skye’s grand skies, aye, they’re sae divine!

Glencoe’s deep an’ haunted pass,

Whaur shadows o’ history amass,

Brave Highlanders stood tall and bold,

Their stories we can all be told.

Amangst the peaks an’ valleys high,

Magic fills the air, oh my,

The spirit o’ Scotland lingers here,

A legacy strong an’ clear.

Highlands an’ Lowlands, hand in hand,

A symphony o’ beauty, ancient meets grand,

A dinnae ken whaur we’re gaun,

But the journey’s worth every dawn.

Let us tread this sacred land,

Whaur others stood, we’ll understand,

Oor heritage immersed in this soil,

A love for these lands we truly toil.

For in these hills an’ glens we find,

A nation’s heart an’ soul sae kind,

A tale o’ strength an’ resilience,

Oor souls uplifted in spirited brilliance

I hadn’t really liked this at all, but since writing it a couple months ago I’ve come to the realisation that I didn’t only write this to get an Amazon gift card.

I feel that Scottish culture is definitely overlooked and dying, only like 1% of Scots still speak Scottish Gaelic, and that makes me really sad, when you hear the language spoken it just sounds so amazing, the amount of history and traditions(despite how bloody)that my people have is already or is in the process of being lost to the wind that so consistently batters our coasts.

As a person with a vampiric complexion(I’m so white I’m blue lol) I sometimes feel I have no right to feel bad about my heritage being lost, I know it’s not right but I hope I’m not the only one who feels that way. I’m hoping to learn Gaelic to hopefully teach any future children I may have (I live in the Lowlands tho so there’s not many people to speak to here) and I’m in love with the idea of moving to the middle of nowhere in the Highlands, hopefully one day that’ll happen :)

Every single culture is precious and unique, I hope I haven’t offended any one with this! Idk how it went from poetry to this but whatever ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ first post whooh!!

*insert httyd Scotland Forever meme cause idk how*

#scotland #poem #idk how to tag this #sorry

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phanfictioncatalogue · 11 months

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Ghost Phil Masterlist

A Day in the…Life? - diannagaygron

Summary: A day in the… er, life of Dan and his ghost boyfriend, Phil.

being a thing immortal as itself (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: Phil is a ghost looking for purpose. Dan is a reaper looking for Phil. Death doesn't have to change everything.

Don't Be Afraid, Just Believe (ao3) - TsingaDark

Summary: There was a rumour on campus that someone had died in the East Wing and had been haunting it ever since. Dan, for his part, thought it was utter crap. Even if someone had died there - which he highly doubted - they would not be haunting that place because ghosts didn’t even exist.

Ghostly - fiction-phan

Summary: Dan Howell has been able to see ghosts his whole life. Things have gone from bad to worse now that his mother remarried and he finds himself sharing his new room with Phil, avery good looking guy. A guy, who happens to be dead.

Ghosts Like Riding Elevators, It Raises Their Spirits (ao3) - abriata

Summary: Phil has a ghost, a roommate agreement, and a deliberately willful blindness to the practicalities of Life.

Hold Me In Your Cold Arms (ao3) - Edgy_Trashbag

Summary: A suicidal Dan moves into an old so called 'haunted' house. But the ghost is cute, and amazing.

Middle Of Nowhere - dxnhowell

Summary: Dan is heading towards his family house when a storm hits, causing his car to break down. Dan finds a hotel in the middle of nowhere, while staying at this hotel, Dan meets the manager named Phil Lester. But, not everything is what it seems to be when he talks to one of the employees.

Rain and a Dead Guy (ao3) - singing_to_empty_caves

Summary: Phil died in the 19th century. He had nothing to do with his home getting bulldozed, or another house built in the same place, or a man named Dan moving into that new house, or with his unbreakable ties to that particular spot of land. However, Dan still thought he should've been more tactful about popping into the kitchen out of thin air.

Reel Around the Fountain (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: Dan and Phil are dead. They’re in heaven. They’re playing chess.

Runaway Poltergeists (ao3) - kittycatrin (orphan_account)

Summary: Dan Howell dissociates, and Phil Lester is a ghost. Somehow, Phil still seems more real than Dan does.

The Doorknob (ao3) - kae_karo

Summary: Dan moves to a London flat, after dropping out of Uni. Some strange things start happening (Dan POV)

The Ghost of You - auroraphilealis

Summary: Dan keeps seeing the ghost of Phil, but he doesn’t know who it is, so he keeps asking his friend who it is. Turns out Phil saved Dan and died instead, and Dan had temporary amnesia from the accident. None of his friends wanted to tell him as they thought it was better he couldn’t remember.

The Haunted Nightmare - jilliancares

Summary: Dan doesn’t know what to do when a ghost by the name of Phil starts haunting him.

Watching You - phantasyxo-blog

Summary: Phil is a ghost and watches Dan everyday.

welcome to lesterville (ao3) - ravels (orphan_account)

Summary: Once upon a time, there was a filmmaker named Phil Lester. Lester was a creator of some of the most magical and whimsical tales, but he died too soon. Years later, a mother fond of his work made her wide-eyed, rosy-cheeked son a promise: if there were ever to be a theme park dedicated to the late legend, they would go and have the time of their lives. This is the story of that promise.

We're Not Who We Used to Be (ao3) - 2amphan

Summary: Dan and Phil are dead, they meet in the afterlife and reminisce on the lives they left behind.

#phanfictioncatalogue #phanfiction #phanfic #phan #masterlists #au #ghosts #ghost!phil #ghost!phil masterlist

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fmp2wendyread · 1 year

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FMP Final story - in detail.

It all started when my main character Hoshi turned 18 years old her parents bought her first spaceship for her birthday because it was her dream to be the first youngest female space explorer to discover s new planet. She left with her alien pet ferret Fuyuko which she has had since she was 8 years old and found the ferret lost going through some bins and so she took it in and took care or it. Fuyuko is like a normal ferret but he is from another planet and can change colours like a chameleon and doesn’t age. Ever since Hoshi found Fuyuko they’ve been everywhere together so of course Fuyuko had to come with Hoshi when she was traveling. Hoshi and her family lives on earth, but not like how we know it. It’s much more advanced and it’s normal for people to go to other planets and it’s also normal to have aliens from other planets visit earth. People on earth developed this device that translates any language into their own and makes it so when the person wearing this device speaks it will automatically get translated into the language of the person they’re speaking to. This makes it much easier to communicate with each other and to other alien species. When Hoshi was first beginning her travels through space she had to stop off at the planet Emotavia because her spaceship was braking down because it was quite cheap because her parents didn’t have much money and even the cheapest spaceships are still very expensive. She had also run out of supplies because she didn’t pack enough. Once she stopped off at this planet she met Takeshi who helped her fix her ship, they became instant friends and he asked if he could join her in her travels and because she would prefer to travel with someone so she had someone to talk to other then her pet ferret she agreed to take him along with her. Normally when they are traveling in space they take it in turns on falling asleep so they don’t get too lost in space, but one day while it was Takeshi turn to stay awake, he didn’t because they were both so tired so they both fell asleep while their space ship was traveling very fast so when they did wake up they were in the middle of nowhere and got hit by an asteroid causing their spaceship to crash on this unknown planet. This planet had no sun and no moon all there was to light up the sky was billions of stars. Luckily this planet didn’t need a sun or a moon, because all the plant life on this planet was glowing and and all the animals here had at least one thing glowing on them and the rivers and water was glowing also. It is truly a beauty planet and they both stay here for many months studying the animals and plants that live here while also making their own brand new space ship. Hoshi is good a coming up with plans and drawing out maps and instructions and Takeshi is good at following those instructions and is really good at making things so together they made the ultimate spaceship called ‘The Jellyfish Spaceship’ original right? These guys aren’t very good at coming up with very imaginary names. The SAN’AKU have been living on this planet for a few years now because they got lost from their old planet and have no idea how to get back, so they stayed in this planet. They got lost from their home planet because the SAN’AKU were coursing a bit too much trouble. The SAN’AKU are pranksters and one of their pranks went too far and all the other creatures living on this planet has had enough of their jokes and they got into a lot of trouble. They felt bad, but they also felt misunderstood because all they wanted to do was have some fun, but nobody understood that and thought they were just dump, stupid or evil. So they left their planet to try and find somewhere they can have all the fun without consequences, but soon enough got lost in space with no way of getting back home. When the SAN’AKU saw Hoshi and Takeshi, they found them very interesting and being the curious creatures they are they followed Hoshi and Takeshi when they left the planet to tell others about their discovery, not knowing the chaos that was following them.

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pxrtalchopped · 2 years

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So Shell Feed

three: ✧ the lair

summary: you dropped the pizza. and these dudes weren’t lying?!

parts: One || Two || Three (you’re here!) || Four

WHOOPS I’m so terribly sorry I’m doggie doo-doo at posting on tumblr. I have an easier time publishing on AO3, Wattpad and Quotev because I’m more used to those platforms omfg HI GUYS WELCOME BACK TO THE STORY!

April looked back at her phone, rereading the conversation she just had with Donnie.

She sighed as she locked her phone, turning towards you with a crooked grin.

"Well, they're okay with you stoppin' by for a repair! We just gotta get some pizza first and then we'll be on our way to the... well... their home!"

Her voice was wavery, similar to a tone you'd use to convince someone of a lie.

You couldn't say you were excited to meet these guys. They were funny and charming, but they were a little bit cooky. And although you lived in new york, you knew life was not as exciting as these five made it look.

"Oh, goody, I'm starving!" You responded back with the same unconvincing tone. "Uh... just - clarifying, I'm not buying, right?"

"Oh no, I can pay!" she laughed. "I work at Albeartos, we can head there! I get a 50-cent discount! Yayyy..."

Sheesh. Poor April. But, she did choose to work at Albeartos, so you couldn't feel too bad.

You ended up ordering two pepperoni pizzas since it was a general favorite for all of them, including you. And although you sounded a little sarcastic earlier, you weren't lying: you were absolutely starving.

You hadn't had a single bite since lunch! You even forgot to bring a snack for after school! You were just hoping you could sneak a slice right as you walked through the doors of the apartment before your stomach made it known just how hungry you were.

"Are we getting close?" April was in front of you, pizzas in hand, and muttering to herself quietly with tense shoulders. The only reason you asked out of the blue (apart from nearing the 'starving to death' stage) was because she had quite literally led you two down an alley, and your red flags were blaring.

"HUH?!" She snapped out of her nervous daze and turned to you quickly. "Oh! Uh... yeah! Yeah, we're super duper close! Actually, um... we're here!"

You looked at her with a forlorn expression. You felt betrayed - not because you thought there was an ambush about to pounce on you or anything, but because you figured out another pathetically embarrassing excuse for her behavior.

This all must have been some stupid prank on you. Leading you to the middle of nowhere like you're about to hang out with a group of friends who'd taken you in so suddenly.

Of course, they wouldn't have welcomed you with open arms! This friend group must've been built for years and you just pop into their group chat and shake things up?

You're such a buffoon! They're probably huddled against the windows of the buildings beside you, recording you with bellowing laughter.

Your face reddened in humiliation. "Seriously...? You went all this way for some stupid joke?" Your voice broke a bit, which caused you even further grief. Now she knew you were actually hurt by the joke. How pathetic.

But she looked shocked, then confused, and then came her grin again. Wavery, but not pitiful or mockingly.

"What? No, there's no joke sweetie, I'm being serious! It's just that... well... the entrance is a bit unconventional."

Her voice trailed down, as well as her gaze, leaving you to follow. She stepped back from her spot, revealing a manhole.

Living... under... New York.....

They couldn't have been... serious, right?

"No way," you whispered.

April gave you an unsure laugh. Now it was her turn to be embarrassed, though it was only because of your response terrifying her.

She could literally see the chances of you being her future friend plummeting to the ground.

"Um... you're fine with ladders, right? It's a bit of a climb down."

Okay, so here you were. Climbing down a long ass ladder while simultaneously balancing one of the two pizza boxes on your head.

You could already feel soreness creeping into your neck, so you spent the time down coming up with choice words to say to these lunatics living in the sewers of New York.

'Why in the WORLD are you living down here!? Isn't it smelly? I mean I haven't smelt anything horrible yet but I'm sure you'd have to acquaint yourself with the neighboring rats and cockroaches which is already a dealbreaker! Sure, there's no noise from the traffic outside, and you don't exactly have to pay any tenant because no one knows you're down here, and I'm sure this place has some crazy acoustics..... actually, can I move in?'

Okay, internal dialogue, maybe we should stop thinking ahead and remember you're supposed to be viciously salty right now.

'They're fixing your phone for free?? Wtf???'

....Internal-dialogue has been making a lot of good points, actually.

You took a few deep breaths as you neared the bottom of the ladder, and as your feet finally touched the ground you immediately took the time to crack your back and neck, and stretch your body.

Jesus, that was a workout.

"Alrighty! Sorry, that was a lot of work, but just stay here for a second and I'll go round up the gang," April picked up both boxes of pizza and started to head towards the entrance of the lair before sharply stopping and turning back to you from the heels of her feet.

"Um," her voice raised, and she gave you a squint.

"Even though I've been told you're already aware of the... 'situation', try to keep an open mind and uh... don't freak out, 'kay? They're good people, trust me. The best people you'll ever meet."

'Even though they aren't exactly... people...' mumbled April's mind. And then she left.

The only noise that filled your ears was quiet. Quiet except for the slight ringing of your tinnitus, or maybe the occasional drips of water puddling onto the floor. You could hear a muffled hum of music coming from a room far from you.

This place seemed a lot more lit up than you figured the sewers would look. You couldn't see much from where you were, as the ladder ended with a tunnel leading out to the rooms April ventured off to, but if you peered through enough it seemed a lot more... spacey than you would have imagined.

You thought about the movie 'Meet the Robinsons,' particularly the scene where the blonde kid was told to stay put in a strange area he knew nothing about - and completely ignored the command.

Should you do the same? How much trouble would you be in for just taking an innocent peek at the place?

You hadn't realized you were thinking about this while you were already moving out of the hallway, and a soft gasp escaped your lips when you neared the entrance to what looked to be a living room.

You looked to your left and saw a projector, a recliner, and a large screen laying flat against the wall. Next to that was a shelf littered with trinkets, and in the middle of the room was a bunch of bean bags, lounge chairs, and a coffee table littered with empty cans and boxes of aging Chinese food.

Yuck. You went through the doorway on the right and it took you to the kitchen, where you found opened cabinets, some more drinks left unfinished, and the pizzas you and April brought in, not yet opened.

You quickly hurried to grab a slice, first looking around for a napkin or paper plate to use, which you successfully found without rummaging through the shelves.

You didn't want to overstep too many boundaries, after all.

Taking a bite of the pizza, you hummed delightfully in relief. And the pizza was soooo good, too! There's nothing better than eating delicious food, especially when you're starving and you're ready to just take what you can get.

"What?! She was just here?! I don't... where did she go? I TOLD her to stay right where she was!"

"Ring ding ding, add a point to the 'Donnie was correct' board, that's tally mark number 24 to 15, boys: one more and you all have my chores for a week!"

Oh. You heard April's panicking voice as well as another... fake-sounding, nerdier voice faintly coming from where you just left.

Not wanting to get in trouble, it was probably best for you to return to the hallway from before.

.....Buuuut, maybe bringing the pizza would do some good with your apology. You grabbed a box and headed out of the kitchen.

As the voices got closer, as well as the entrance to the hallway, you peeked around the corner cautiously only to be met with the backs of four tall monsters and April, who seemed to be extremely calm for the insanely startling appearances of her company.

You meant to start off with a greeting, as no one was able to notice your quiet appearance yet, but you choked on the pizza in your mouth, and in your hand...

....Well, you dropped the box, accidentally letting the remaining slices jump out and fall around the floor.

But a greeting nonetheless, right? Everyone turned toward you with a shocking jolt, and from there you could make out faces that were just as inhuman as their backsides.

The four green humanoids all wore bandanas and matching color schemes.

The tallest of the group was sharp, more angled, and brooding.

A snaggletooth peeked through his pointed, and smaller, snout - and he wore a red bandana covering half of his entire face.

To the left of him was a purple-clad creature, adorning a mask similar to the red ones except for this time he had what looked to be... drawn on eyebrows?

Disproportionate goggles rested atop his head and a bulky backpack or... shell, hung from his shoulders and down his back. His magic staff was pointed cautiously towards you.

Then there was the smallest of the four, almost reaching April's height and wearing stickers and graffiti on his (what you wanted to call) costume.

He was waving at you with three fingers and a bright, tooth-gapped grin on his face. He wore tangerine hues on a thinner bandana along his eyes.

It reminded you of those vigilante superheroes.

The last creature had a bit of sass and character to him. There was a way about his stance that alluded to nothing but confidence and charisma, his hip jutting out to rest his hand against and in the other, a sword that he lazily draped over his shoulder.

He wore blue, with a bandana pointing upward and eyes that squinted at you mischievously.

"Well, someone's a whole lot cuter than I expected. And let me tell you guys, I definitely expected her to be cute."

"Leo."

"Whaaat? The silence was killing me. Someone had to say something!"

You wanted to scream but your throat hurt from almost dying on chewed pizza. So instead, you stayed put, completely frozen in fear.

"Guys, I think she's scared of us?" The smallest creature spoke gently, noticing your frightened nature and giving you a look of worry.

His statement made the eyes of the tallest's soften, and he slowly walked up to you.

"Uhh... You're MC aren't ya? I thought you knew by now, we told you...?" He stopped talking, voice trailing off in confusion.

They told you what? That they lived in the sewers? Yes, that's fine, something that isn't entirely crazy you supposed. They definitely did not tell you that they were sea monsters!

....Monsters.... mutations....

"....You're.... turtles....!" Your revelation caused a gasp to leave your lips, and your eyes widened comically. "You were being serious! I didn't... of course, I didn't think that - it's really true!"

"Actually these are costumes we expertly crafted for the nearest science convention. I rested in a bath of green sharpie water for several hours to give my skin this natural swampy luster," the purple commented sarcastically.

April walked up to you with her hands in her pockets, nervously grinning. "Welllllll... I did say to keep an open mind. Uh.... Surprise?"

You couldn't say you were scared anymore now that you realized you weren't in any real harm.

They were being honest with you from the very beginning, and the only thing that made sense to you right now was that nothing made sense to you, at all. And it was supposed to be that way!

You had so many questions. So many things to say all at once that it honestly made your brain hurt. No wonder they were suspicious of you, they were in the sewers because they were hiding! There wasn't a single human in sight except for April!

"MC, I'm so glad to finally meet you! It felt like ages waiting to see what you looked like!" The youngest one marched up to you with arms spread out in a hug, completely forgetting to ask if you were comfortable with him even touching you.

"It's me! Mikey! I'm the one that added you to the group chat!" He grinned, squeezing you excitedly.

You could hear April from behind him quietly shout, "Hey, Mikes, give them some space!" but the youngest turtle decidedly ignored it.

"....You know what, I totally forgot that we didn't introduce ourselves," mumbled the blue one, nudging red with a bashful blush.

It gave Red the courage to step up to you only slightly (he knew his size must be intimidating, especially with first appearances), and held out his arm, gesturing to everyone in the room. "I'm Raphael, or Raph for short. I'm 'like_a_boss' in the group chat. I wasn't sure if you could tell or not, haha."

Suddenly his mannerisms became very shy when he realized his name wasn't his user, and a pink hue grew under his mask.

"This here's Donatello, or Donnie for short, he's... um." The red continued introducing everyone else, but he seemed evidently embarrassed to say the word 'booty' to you, so he took a detour.

"He's the mean one in the group chat."

Donnie's arms crossed and he rolled his eyes, "I have every reason to be protective over my inventions, thank you. It's nothing personal, except for the fact that it ENTIRELY IS..."

At the end of his sentence, he glared a sharp, accusatory look at you.

You gave him a guilty frown. Mikey nuzzled his head along your cheek.

"No need to introduce me, I'm the best at my own introduction, mkay?"

The last to be introduced swatted an arm past Raphael, sauntering his way over to you in catlike strides that shuddered with only a hint of underlying nervousness.

He turned his body to you from the side, giving you an angled look, packaged neatly with a dazzling, half-lidded smirk.

"The name's Leonardo, but you can call me Leo." It took absolutely everything in his power not to say 'you can call me anytime,' but again, for your honor, he held himself back.

He knew this must've been overwhelming for you, and he was right guessing so.

"Um... Okay, you guys already know me as MC..." You shuffled awkwardly, nervousness slipping from your chapped lips.

"But, um, you can call me ____."

"Okay, ____, I hope that wasn't the only box of pizza you brought, because although the three of them are totally game for eating floor pizza, I am very much not."

"Don't expose us so early on, Donnie!!!"

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sitp-recs · 2 years

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Wireless 2022 Recs

Another year, anther fantastic H/D Wireless collection with so many treats! We got spoiled with 58 gorgeous art and fic works across all kinds of tropes and lengths. I wanna give a special shout-out to the sexy shorts celebrating friends with benefits and fuck buddies - two of my favourites tropes! - and the gorgeous long fics full of aching and healing for our Chosen One. It was impossible to pick only a few works among so many beautiful, evocative creations, so here are my 17 favourites including art! Keep in mind that my picks are 100% based on my personal tastes and the intention is to celebrate this Fest and to spread some love before the reveals. I hope you guys enjoy these as much as I did, and on that note make sure to also check the amazing recs @the-starryknight shared! Happy readings :)

Shorts

Bright Side by @floydig (T, 2k) ☄️ - brilliant short, sharp and atmospheric, with a gripping sense of space and an impressive amount of story and character packed within. Harry is Draco’s parole officer and they’re both a bit sad and broken but bonding over heat and music and shared trauma, they might find a bit of hope together.

It’s been one year since the war, and Draco is on probation. He lives in a shitty muggle flat in the middle of nowhere in California and delivers pizza. Harry is Draco’s probation officer who visits far too often. Read my rec here.

Mens Rea by @lqtraintracks (E, 3k) 🦊 - BAMF Draco being brilliant and bossy while topping from the bottom, yes please 👏🏻 Harry and I have no choice but to enjoy the ride. Thrilling plot, A+ dialogue and excellent characterization, charming & hot!

Mens Rea: the mental element of a person's intention to commit a crime; or knowledge that one's action or lack of action would cause a crime to be committed.

Nothing Compares by @maesterchill (T, 3k) 🚲- be still my heart, this combines perfect Amsterdam aesthetics and casual-not-so-casual melancholy pining that will leave you soft with aching. A gorgeous take on Auror partners with all the feels packed within 3k.

Working in the International Auror division doesn't exactly lend itself to Harry finding love or having any sort of relationship, what with all the unsociable hours and catching bad guys and never being in one location for more than a few days. Not to mention the permanent fixture of his partner, Malfoy. So, how does a song about lost love end up being the thing that helps Harry find love, in the location he least expected it? Read my rec here.

like freedom by @softlystarstruck and @babooshkart (M, 4k) 🏜 - sweet road trip romance with photographer Harry and a gorgeous and soothing desert scenery. Quiet, intimate and contemplative, this is a perfect comfort read with sublime art pieces that will take your breath away.

Harry doesn’t know the exact moment his life changed. Maybe it was the day Draco Malfoy unwillingly turned up at his front door, or the moment the plane’s landing gear went up and London-Heathrow fell away below them. Maybe it was in the dusty swirl of red rocks and motel rooms somewhere between Tennessee and California. Maybe it wasn't a single moment at all, but a whole series of them, captured with Harry's camera. Read my rec here.

if the world was ending by @saltwatergarden (M, 4k) ☕️ - end of the world angst, that’s what I’m talking about baby!!! Tragic and bittersweet but in a very gentle and hopeful way that makes all the hurt worth it! I’m living for this protective Draco, he pines so beautifully…

The world is ending again, but it's far less dramatic this time. Harry Potter tries to save the day. Draco wishes he wouldn't.

Closer by @pennygalleon (M, 5k) 🛋 - give me all the roommate pining!!!!! I can feel Harry’s gentle yearning running through my body, their dancing around each other infuriatingly charming and sweet, plus a satisfying resolution!

All who know them are convinced that Harry and Draco are a couple. But that's just ridiculous.

To Make A Way by @cavendishbutterfly (E, 5k) 🎥 - movie nights + fwb to lovers, this is peak romance with poetic prose and so much tenderness my fragile heart can barely take it. I don’t ever wanna leave this verse.

When Harry finds Draco in the back row of the cinema, he doesn't mean to accidentally befriend him. Or fuck him. Or catch feelings. The thing is, Draco only does casual.

An Emerald In The Sky by @corvuscrowned (M, 7k)⏳- unfollow me now, this time travel AU is gonna be the only thing I talk about for the next month fuck, what the fuck!!!!! Literally obsessed with this, my favorite fic of the year so far. Get ready for my screaming after reveals MA

The hardest part about shagging an Unspeakable is that they’re not allowed to speak of anything. All Draco knows is that Harry works in Time. Harry works in Time, and while he’s out there in all of that time, it is as unforgiving to him as it is to anyone. Somewhere along the way, Draco realizes he's been thinking in lines, when he should have been thinking in circles. Read my rec here.

You Know the Feeling by @sorrybutblog (M, 12k) 🌯 - such a special fuck buddies to lovers, organic and refreshing with hot smut and lots of physical intimacy. I love the casual summer-y vibes and the whole soft clueless boyfriends realizing how smitten they really are with each other.

Harry’s not sure why he’s started hooking up with Malfoy. Boredom, or the heat of the summer, maybe. Whatever it is, it’s nothing too complicated. Right?

Take the Moon by @tackytigerfic (M, 15k) 🪢 - FAMILY FEELS all around, my heart is bursting with love for these soft dads who are also best friends who are also in love! Complex marriage bond dynamics perfectly executed and a touching arc with autistic Scorpius, who brings two idiots together through their unconditional love for him.

Harry Potter has always wanted a family of his own, and when a deadly blood curse forces him into a marriage bond with his best friend Draco Malfoy, it looks like he might just have found one. It's just a shame they’d always planned to break up after a year. Read my rec here.

Longs

Paper Rings by @lettersbyelise (E, 50k) 💼 - break up make up journey with hot daddy divorce lawyer Draco and the gentlest 8th year romance nostalgia! I loved the parallel narratives and the slow burn full of gentle remembrance, so wistful!

When Harry’s in need of a divorce lawyer, he has no choice but to turn to the best in the trade. Draco Malfoy’s reputation for discretion is flawless, and his track record for winning cases is close to perfect. But he’s also ruthless, passionate, and as infuriating as ever, and the brief relationship he and Harry had in Eighth Year still feels painfully fresh despite two decades spent apart.

Meet Me at Midnight by @the-starryknight (T, 57k) 🧚‍♂️ - one of the best fics I’ve read this year, soothing, inventive and atmospheric, an ethereal fae tale with craftsman Harry and his beautiful healing journey with Draco’s help. This Harry stole my heart with his talent, strength and vulnerability. Bonus points to the immersive dream aesthetics and the political subplot!

Harry was beginning to wonder if he’d ever make anything again when Malfoy stormed through the door of Harry’s furniture shop. Now Harry’s got an impossible Ministry commission to finish, and even less energy than ever to deal with his elusive muse. That is, until he stumbles upon the surreal and beautiful world of a mysterious fae creature. Read my rec here.

Kept in Cages by @sweet-s0rr0w (E, 77k) 🐦 - forget Fantastic Beasts, this is the movie we deserve! A touching and deeply immersive romance with fascinating creatures, organic slow burn full of UST and longing, and a moving healing path for these lovely down and out Harry and Draco.

Deep in the heart of the Ministry lies the Beast Division: a hidden room where ancient beasts roam, and winged creatures soar, and grumpy giant ferrets eat all your biscuits unless you keep them well hidden. Draco Malfoy would know – he’s been working there for five years now, after all. Meanwhile, on Level One, ex-Golden Boy Harry Potter is stuck in another interminable policy meeting, completely unaware of the mysterious comings and goings just three floors below. Read my rec here.

A Case of You by @epitomereally (E, 97k) 🔮 - another break up make case fic with glorious UST, Unspeakable Draco and a great slow burn. Loved Harry here, mysterious and authoritative, and Draco is equally capable and good while embracing his vulnerability. Thrilling, romantic, emotionally satisfying!

Draco was doing just fine working as an Unspeakable in Paris, hanging out with his living and ghostly pals, inventing new spells, and definitely not thinking about Potter. Then, Lucius just had to break out of prison and turn his world upside down. Now, Draco has to return to England, where he is forced to confront how family ties bind us—and one infuriatingly fit Harry Potter. Read my rec here.

ART

close to fine by @getawayfox (T) 🌉 - sunset romance! Such a pretty art style, I felt like I was right there feeling the soft pull of those summery vibes

The thing about summer is that the clock that rules the rest of our lives is temporarily turned off.

Every Feeling That I Get by @sugareey-makes-stuff (T) 🤜🏾🤛🏻 unique style and intense gritty vibes full of tension and want! H A N D S

The events from their malicious past somehow bring Harry and Draco together in a new way.

Eternal Refuge by @ihopeyoubothstaysafefromharm (T) 👾 - the COOLEST concept, and perfectly executed! I love all the tiny details and interactive format, really intriguing and creative.

Draco Malfoy has been through so much already that there's no point in dreaming about someone whisking him away on some kind of adventure. The future has other plans. A concept sheet for a video game.

#drarry reclist #drarry fests #h/d wireless 2022

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elysiadjarin · 3 years

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Day 2: Breeding Kink

Day 2 of Kinktober and… I got carried away with this one. The others are not going to be nearly as long as this one, so you guys are gonna be spoiled with this. I hope you enjoy it! Find my Kinktober Masterlist here.

Warnings: Minors DNI, this is 18+ only content. Some warnings for violence and blood mentioned, though nothing too graphic. PinV sex, unprotected, consensual, nonhuman character, exophilia, slight hint of biting kink

Tags: Dilf!werewolf x reader, exophilia, kinktober

Moonlight Through Colored Leaves

When you’d first moved to the tiny Irish town in the middle of nowhere, you’d originally hoped to escape the family drama that haunted you back in America. Thanks to your grandfather’s Irish immigration, you’d been able to get an Irish citizenship and move relatively easily. So, you’d packed your bags, only told your grandfather where you were going, and boarded the first flight to Ireland you could catch.

You’d quietly made your way to your grandfather’s tiny hometown far out in the countryside, and moved into the long-since abandoned house that had belonged to your ancestors before. Though it had been run down and you’d had to do some major repairs and cleaning, you’d finally made a cozy cottage on the outskirts of the small village-like town.

The town had been quite welcoming and friendly, and you’d quickly found a job working at the local town pub as a waitress. Your boss had been very welcoming, and you’d earned favor from your coworkers and boss for your hard work and quiet, unassuming diligence. The pay was good, and you found yourself growing comfortable in the sleepy town life, meeting your neighbors and getting familiar with the town dynamics.

You’d just gone in for your shift of the day when conversation caught your ear. You put on your waitress apron, pulling your hair up into a ponytail and walking out to the bar to grab your tray.

“Did you hear about the news?” Jaina asked, arms propped on the countertop. “I mean, about that Romanian vamp that landed on Scotland the other day. Word is that he’s headed this way.”

“Well why would it want teh come here?” Sean snorted. “We’re out in teh middle o’ nowhere, Janie, t’ere ain’t not’in’ here t’at it would want.”

“Well didn’t you hear that apparently they’re expecting Agent Blue to be chasing it down with the Dullahan?” Jaina hissed. “Why wouldn’t they come over here?”

You hid your discreet grimace, instead walking out in front of the bar. To your delight and surprise, you found yourself facing a familiar little figure sitting at the bar in a corner. The little girl caught sight of you and squealed, waving.

You went over to her giving her a hug. “Well hello there, Miss Morrigan,” you greeted cheerfully. “How are you this fine evening? Having a drink?” you teased, noticing the glass of juice near her notebook.

She giggled, nodding. “Yeah! I’m with Daddy today,” she answered, feet kicking against the bar. She turned her head to see the bartender approaching. “Daddy!” she said excitedly. “Look, it’s the nice neighbor lady I told you about!”

You looked up to see Lysander Sullivan standing there, polishing a glass with a cloth. He gazed down at his daughter with a fond look deep in his eyes, then turned to look at you, his ice blue eyes meeting yours.

“Is that so?” he asked, his deep voice a low rumble in the relatively quiet bar. It hadn’t gotten to heavy traffic times, so there weren’t many people around yet. His grey-flecked hair had been swept back into an elastic band, and his beard had been neatly trimmed.

You gave him a small, shy smile, a little embarrassed. Though you knew that the man lived next to your property, you’d been a bit timid about approaching him. He was a kind enough gentleman from everything you’d seen and heard, and he’d watched out for you as you worked, but you didn’t see any reason why he’d be interested in any further contact with you. After all, you were a younger woman in your mid-twenties that lived alone.

“Yeah! She helps me with homework sometimes,” Morrigan prattled on, “and she lets me water her flowers!”

You laughed a little, feeling the color splash across your cheeks. “Well, I certainly enjoy the little Queen’s company,” you admitted. You’d heard some of the other workers gossip about Lysander, saying that he was a single father to nine-year-old Morrigan and that her mother had died in a tragic accident. You didn’t really know, and you’d tried not to pry or overhear too much. The man had a right to privacy, just like you had things you were running from as well.

“Thank you for looking out for the little cub,” Lysander said, a small smile crossing his face. He mellowed out around his daughter, his love clear in how he interacted with her.

“Of course. It’s a delight,” you said, smiling at Morrigan. “She’s a smart little cookie, aren’t you, Queenie?” you asked, tugging at her pigtail teasingly.

She giggled. “Yeah!” Then she tilted her head at you. “Are you working with Daddy tonight?” she asked curiously.

“O-oh, well, sort of,” you stammered, taken aback a little. “He works behind the counter, but I serve people out there,” you said, motioning to the tables. “So I guess we do, in a way.”

Morrigan nodded sagely. “Ohhh, so you do the food and Daddy does the drinks.” She nodded, satisfied at her conclusion. “Oh, I’m making a drawing! I want you to see it later, when I’m finished,” she said, tugging at your sleeve.

You smiled. “Of course, Queenie. You just let me know and I’ll pop by when I have a moment, alright?” you promised.

She nodded, turning back to her notebook and picking up her crayons again. Tongue poked out, she diligently returned to her masterpiece. You gave her a fond smile, noting the way the soft lights made a halo in her blonde hair.

“She’s such an angel,” you murmured, grabbing some straws from the bar to stick into your pocket.

“Aye, that she is.” Lysander’s comment almost startled you. He glanced at you across the bar, the sleeves of his crisp maroon button-up rolled halfway up his arms. “I apologize for not bein’ a better neighbor,” he remarked.

You blinked, then reached up to brush a piece of hair behind your ear. “Oh, no— not at all,” you blurted, then gave him a chagrined smile. “I’m the one who should be apologizing. I’d met Morrigan when she was coming back from school, since I was in the front yard. She just… hopped on over, so I said hi. Honestly I should have introduced myself better, but…” You bit your lip. “I just kept putting it off because I didn’t want to bother you…”

He blinked, then chuckled slightly, as though surprised. “An’ here I thought it was ‘cause you didn’t really like me for some reason,” he said, amusement laced in his tone.

You gave him a horrified look. “Oh! Not at all!” You shook your head with a sigh, tugging mournfully at your ponytail. “I’m… notoriously bad at meeting people for the first time,” you groaned. “I just get nervous and tongue tied and I don’t know how to interact and… ugh.” You winced. “I am sorry, Mr. Sullivan. I should be a better neighbor, especially since I somehow got to know your daughter.” You half-laughed at yourself.

He waved you off. “I’m just glad you get along with Mor,” he chuckled. “She speaks endlessly about you. Seems like you’ve impressed her.”

You looked up at him, genuinely surprised. “Really?” you wondered, glancing at the girl. Then you smiled. “Well, I’m flattered. She’s such a smart, curious girl. I’m rather honored that she’d find me interesting.” You breathed a laugh, then glanced up at him. “I should get to my station, but… if you don’t mind, would it be alright if I swung by tomorrow to say hi and properly introduce myself?”

He nodded calmly. “Of course. She gets back home from school at three, if you wanted to catch her as well.”

You nodded, propping the tray on your hip. “Thank you! I’ll do that. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll stop procrastinating and actually start working,” you laughed, and walked off with a wave.

The night progressed relatively smoothly, customers rotating in and out with regulars stopping by. The crowds ebbed and flowed, sometimes more rowdy and sometimes more calm. Still, you enjoyed the atmosphere and the liveliness of it all. Despite it being a pub, and an Irish one at that, the town was small and most people knew everyone else. Plus, Lysander was the bartender for more than one reason. Everyone knew that making trouble of any sort was not tolerated and had force to back it up.

You occasionally popped by Morrigan’s place at the bar, either to have a chat or to admire the progress she’d made on her drawing. And throughout the night, your worries started to mount the more gossip you heard around the pub. Some of them had heard confirmation that the Romanian vampire gone mad was making a beeline for Ireland, though no one seemed to know why. There were even more rumors that Agent Blue, the famous Will-o-the-Wisp, was after the rampaging Pricoli. And still others said that the Scott Pack would be making a reappearance.

Once you’d finished your shift and helped close up shop, you started the trudge back to your cottage down the road. It wasn’t a far walk, really, and it gave you some time to think and clear your head from the smells of the pub. Reaching up, you pulled your hair free from the ponytail and sighed, shoulders slumping.

You’d come to Ireland to escape your problems, but it felt like they were all closing in on you as the days went by. As you got home and got ready for bed, you wondered if it was asking too much to hope for some peace.

Instead, you distracted yourself by trying to think of something to make for the Sullivans the next day. You didn’t want to go empty handed, after all. Maybe some bread-?

You fell asleep thinking about it.

You’d just lifted your hand to knock when the door flung open. Morrigan practically tackled you, wrapping her arms around your waist with a shriek of greeting.

Laughing, you balanced yourself and wrapped an arm around her. “Well hello, Queenie,” you greeted. “It’s wonderful to see you.”

She grabbed your hand and dragged you in, chattering happily about her day at school. “Oh, and you should have heard how everyone laughed!” She interrupted herself as she led you into the kitchen. “Daddy, she’s here!” she called.

Trying to balance the homemade sourdough in one hand while still holding Morrigan’s with the other, you looked up to give Lysander a helpless smile. “Hello, Mr. Sullivan,” you greeted, a little breathlessly.

He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching up in amusement. “Well hallo, Miss,” he greeted back, wiping his hands with a towel. “Mor, why don’t you let her set the plate down before anything drops,” he said, shaking his head.

Morrigan let go of your hand, bouncing up and down. “Ooh, what is it?”

You offered it to Lysander, a little flustered. “I… well, I didn’t really want to come without an offering, so… I made some homemade sourdough,” you offered, a little awkwardly. “I hope you like it, it’s a fresh batch, still warm.”

He took it from you with a nod. “Thank you. We love sourdough, don’t we, Mor?” He seemed far more comfortable in his own home, less stoic and stern than in the pub.

Morrigan nodded, throwing up her hands with a cheer. “Yeah!” She danced around. “I love bread!” Then she grabbed your hand again. “Oh, oh, you gotta come see my room! Daddy just made me a new desk, and it’s really nice and shiny!”

Lysander waved you off as you turned to him. “Go ahead. Oh, I was going to invite you to dinner,” he added. “If you’d like. The food is almost done, actually. Your bread will be a perfect addition.”

You smiled. “I’d be honored. Thank you.” Then you let Morrigan drag you away.

By the time Lysander called for you both, you’d been given the official tour of her room and had happily listened to her tell stories of what she’d done at school and the projects she planned to do in the coming days. The little girl always cheered you up with her bright and cheerful presence. If anything, it eased your heart to see the little girl clearly so healthy and happy with her Father. She openly adored him, quite the Daddy’s girl.

As the three of you sat down at the table, you realized with a slight start that you’d never felt so comfortable in Ireland as you did in this moment. It felt… right, like you’d finally come home.

“Thank you for the food,” you said, giving Lysander a grateful smile. “It looks amazing.” The soup simmered in the bowls, while the sourdough bread had been cut into slices and set by the butter.

He nodded. “Thank you for the bread.” He passed the steamed potatoes, and everyone dug into the meal.

You let out a soft hum of contentment as you ate, enjoying the rich flavors and the homey comfort food. Clearly Lysander was a good cook, and you almost envied Morrigan for being able to come home to this every night. Not that you weren’t a good cook yourself, but you supposed company really did make a difference.

“The bread is so good!” Morrigan chirped, taking a giant bite of the bread slathered in butter.

You laughed softly. “I’m glad, Queenie. Take it slow,” you warned, worried she’d choke. “The bread isn’t going anywhere.”

She nodded, scarfing down her food. “Oh, oh, Daddy, cartoons are on soon! Can I please go watch? I did all my homework!”

Lysander nodded. “Alright. Go take your dishes to the sink.”

“Thank you! Morrigan cheered, sliding down from her chair and carefully taking the dishes. She trotted to the kitchen, then got herself a glass of juice and went to go to the living room.

You realized with a slight start that this was the first time you’d been alone with Lysander. Looking down at your spoonful, you wondered if you should maybe ask him the questions that pressed on your mind. Perhaps he would know. Then again… it’s not as though he were related to your grandfather’s clan… and not to mention, most of the people in the town didn’t even know that you were aware of the nonhuman community. In fact, you were rather positive that your coworkers thought you didn’t.

“If I may ask, what brought you to this small town?” Lysander asked, his voice calm and mellow. His blue eyes glanced up at you, and the question died on your tongue.

“Oh… family history, actually,” you admitted with a smile. “And, well…” You shrugged lightly. “I needed to get away for a while. I wanted a fresh start, somewhere where people didn’t really know me.”

“Understandable.” He nodded. “I essentially did the same with Morrigan when we moved here a few years ago.”

You hummed, reaching for a piece of bread. He handed you the butter, and you gently grasped the sleeve of his flannel for a moment. “You’ve got a bit on your clothes,” you said, wiping the smeared butter off with a napkin. You’d just let go when your fingers brushed across his briefly as you took the butter. You didn’t notice the way he froze, his movements jerky as he pulled his hand back.

“Thank you.” He cleared his throat. “Do you— I mean, does any of your family still live here?”

You shook your head. “Not exactly. But technically, my extended family is here. My grandfather immigrated from Ireland to America, where I was born, but through marriage there are still people here I’m technically connected to.” You shrugged. “I haven’t really gotten in contact with them, though. They probably don’t know me that well,” you laughed with a rueful shrug. You glanced at him for a moment. “I bet it’s even harder when you have children.”

He glanced toward the living room, where the faint sound of the cartoons floated through the house. “Well, I suppose,” he admitted thoughtfully. “Still, I wouldn’t trade it for anything. She’s my life, really.”

You lowered your eyes to your plate, unable to deny how your chest tightened at the way his voice softened when he spoke of his daughter. You’d always tried to forget how much you’d been attracted to the older man. You’d only ever dated once, and while he’d been nice enough and it had ended cordially, you still hadn’t been able to forget the lingering feeling of disappointment you’d had from the experience. You’d known, after that, that it would either be a long time before you ever tried dating again or it would have to be to someone whose maturity at least matched yours. And, unfortunately for you, that tended to mostly apply to men past their forties.

You really did try to forget how Lysander ticked all the boxes.

“I can see why.” You smiled. “She’s really precious.” Your eyes slid toward the living room. “Does she… inherit from you?”

Lysander looked up, his gaze suddenly piercing as he stared at you openly.

You gave him a faint smile. “I don’t talk much about it, but my grandfather comes from the local O’Connor Faoladh Tribe,” you said calmly, taking another sip of the soup.

His shoulders relaxed, the hard edge in his expression melting away. “Ah. Yes, she does. But she hasn’t fully shifted yet. It will be another year, we think. Are you-?”

You shook your head. “Oh, no. It’s funny, really,” you said thoughtfully, motioning with your spoon. “My grandfather is Faoladh, and my mother’s side of the family is a lycanthrope pack.” Your lips twitched. “And somehow, I got the recessive genes and ended up a simple Seer.”

His eyebrow raised. “Not so simple, I’d think,” he remarked. “Aren’t Seers rather uncommon now?”

You shrugged. “For a reason. There’s plenty of potential but not many who actively practice anymore. The price is heavy for knowledge like that.”

He gave you a discerning look. “Is that what you’re running from?”

Your silver spoon clinked softly as you set it down on the edge of the plate. “I suppose you could say that,” you murmured. Your eyes closed as you shoved away the memories of distant screaming, the crackle of fire, crimson splashed across stone floors— “Or maybe toward something.” After all, you mused, there had been a reason you’d felt drawn to your grandfather’s homeland, and town in particular. And of course, you’d never been one to fight Fate too hard.

“Perhaps so,” he conceded. Then he stood. “May I take your plate?”

“Oh— please, let me help.” You stood, taking your dishes and starting towards the kitchen. “At least let me wash or dry.”

When you finally got back home, you sat down on the couch and buried your face into your hands. Seeing Morrigan and Lysander together had stirred up old memories you’d long since tried to forget. Old desires that you’d thought you’d given up on: hopes and dreams of a family to call your own.

You crawled into bed, everything inside you aching. After all, what could a Seer with a cursed fate possibly offer anyone?

The night the Dullahan rode into town, you’d just started closing up the pub on night shift duty.

They’d ridden in, followed by the famous Agent Blue clad in his dark robes and carrying his lantern over his shoulder. He strode in the door, followed by the Dullahan. At first, you hadn’t even noticed the other figure trailing behind them.

Your Boss, Dorian, had walked out of the back room to greet them. He, of everyone in the town, was the only one to know of your heritage, as the elected leader of the supernatural community in the town. He nodded to the group as they entered.

“Welcome, Dullahan, Agent Blue.” He nodded at them, shaking the Will-o-the-Wisp’s hand.

“Greetings in return, Chief Dorian,” Agent Blue replied, his face still covered by the hood. “Apologies for the intrusion. I’m sure you’ve heard of the Pricoli that’s been running amok all over the Isles.”

Dorian nodded. “We certainly have. I assume you’ve come on a hunt.”

“We have. And I’ve brought someone with me.” Agent Blue turned, motioning towards the back of the group.

You’d been distracted, still working on trying to finish clearing up and getting out of the way. If your boss had asked, you were ready to offer to serve the new guests as well, giving Lysander a glance that he returned with a small nod.

It wasn’t until you straightened and turned around, finished, that you heard a familiar, startled voice call your name. Turning, you looked up and saw, to your shock, a very familiar face staring at you. You froze as the figure lunged forward, wrapping you in a tight hug. After a moment, you awkwardly hugged him back, mind whirling.

“What are you doing here?” Your younger brother stared at you incredulously, holding your arms. “I didn’t even know you left home! Last I heard you were still there.”

You grasped his sleeves, disoriented. “O-Oh. Ray,” you gasped, processing. “I—“ You suppressed a flinch. “I just… moved into grandfather’s old cottage,” you stammered, then looked down. “I had to get away,” you said quietly. “It was too much.”

Of all your family, you knew that Ray would best understand. He’d been the only one to really stand up for you back home, try to support you as best as he could, being a younger sibling. When everyone else constantly reminded you of your Fate, your Destiny, Ray had been the only one who had encouraged your personal hopes and dreams, had listened to your fears and worries.

He sighed. “I mean, I can’t blame you,” he said, shaking his head. “Still… does anyone know?”

You scoffed slightly, turning your head away. “Only Grandfather ever cared about me besides you, Ray. There’s no one else who probably even asked.” You shrugged. “How is school?” You’d been the one to support him when he decided to move to Scotland to attend University. He, too, had wanted to escape home.

He grinned. “Pretty great, actually!” Then he glanced behind him. “Turns out my best mate is actually one of Agent Blue’s sons, so when the whole Pricoli thing went down, I offered to be his in to the Faoladh Tribe here. For formality, y’know.” He shrugged. “I remembered what Grandfather had always taught us about how picky Faoladh are about tradition.”

You nodded. “Yeah…” You huffed slightly. “Technically only the people in here right now even know that I’m a part of the supernatural community,” you said dryly.

He raised an eyebrow. “That’s some dedication to keep it quiet. How has the local gossip train not found you out yet?”

You snorted. “Maybe because I’ve always been quiet and kept my mouth shut.” You rolled your eyes at him, though a smile twitched on your lips. “And we both know who never can.”

He playfully cuffed your shoulder. Then he grinned. “Oh, but guess what?” His eyes sparkled. “I found my Mate!”

Your eyes widened. “Really?” Your heart lightened for him, happy that your younger brother had finally found his Mate. “Does she know yet?”

He shook his head, face falling a little. Well, not yet. I mean, I’ve kinda only just met her and all, so… and it’s kinda awkward, cause…” He winced. “Well, she’s my best mate’s younger sister.”

You gave him an incredulous look, then sighed, shaking your head. “Well, good luck with that one, Ray,” you snorted. “You’ve gotten yourself into quite the situation with that one.”

He shrugged. “I know, but…” His grin turned goofy. “She’s so pretty. You should see her. She’s even pretty sassy, kinda like you are with me.”

You laughed softly, patting his arm. “Well, I’m glad I was able to catch up with you. If you need a place to stay, you know my house is always open to you.”

He nodded. “Thanks, sis. I should probably head back. I don’t know what else they might want me for.” He paused, then gave you an odd look. “Have you… found anyone?”

You blinked at him, startled. “What? Ray, you know what my Fate says.” You frowned.

An odd expression crossed his face, then he shook his head. “Yeah, I know. Just… don’t forget the promise you made me.”

You sighed. “I won’t, Ray.” As if you ever could, you thought with a hint of bitterness. He wouldn’t let you.

He squeezed your hand, slipping a piece of paper into your grasp. “Text me. I wanna keep in touch.”

You nodded, pocketing the note. “Thanks. Good luck, Ray. Stay safe.”

He nodded, then jogged back to Agent Blue with a wave. You were left to stand there, your heart sinking with every step he took away from you. Everything was lining up far too well. Though you’d vainly hoped to escape from the Fate that had hung over your head for so long, it seemed as though you’d just walked right into it instead.

Turning back to the bar, you quietly packed up your things. Bidding Lysander goodnight, you checked to make sure Dorian didn’t need you and headed back for home.

It was only a matter of time.

Rain splattered against the ground, heavy and thick like a curtain. Shielding your eyes from the drops, you pushed yourself to run, faster, as fast as you could. There was no time left to think.

The vision you’d had kneeling under the large Fae Maypole tree you’d found in the forest nearby kept flashing through your mind, insistent and horrific. Your Fate loomed, past and future meshing into the present in ways you could hardly stand. You’d thought you’d been running, cowardly but maybe safe from the Sword of Damocles—but now here you were, fallen headlong into the trap of the Fate you’d known since childhood would claim your life.

And yet your feet would not stop running, pushing you forward without hesitation. Was this not worth it? Was this Fate—this Fate that you’d feared for so long, hated and loathed and tried in futility to escape—was it truly so horrendous? Now that you were here? In this moment of truth?

You barreled up the steps, slamming your shoulder against the door without a pause. It broke, sending you headlong across the threshold to skid across the carpet. Ignoring the burn on your arm, you looked up as you heard a scream. Morrigan’s face stared at you, sheet white as she curled up in fear by the foot of the couch.

Jacking yourself up, you didn’t take time to glance behind you. “Mor, into the safe room,” you gasped, “your Daddy sent me, okay? I need you to get in the safe room, now.”

She nodded shakily, bravely scrambling to her feet and running towards the safe room that Lysander had made for her. Nothing would get through the doors, you knew, once they locked. You waited until you heard the lock click, then turned and scrambled back out the busted door.

In the empty area between your houses, out on the outskirts of the town, everything seemed oddly distant yet crystal clear. Your memories nudged at you, whispering about the deja vu that filled your every pore at the sight of the green, rolling grass and the relentless rain that poured over everything. In the distance, the red glare of a fire fueled by gas and undaunted by rain began to dominate the color of the sky.

It didn’t surprise you when cold fingers wrapped around your throat, leaving mottled bruises to bloom against your skin. You stood still, knowing that any movement might crush your throat. You may have been Fated to die, but not until you’d finished your task.

The enraged Pricoli snarled, hissing in your ear. “I know he sent you to hide her,” he sneered. “You helpless, pitiful Seer. For all your preeminence, did you not find a way to best me?” he barked a laugh, maniacal and loud. “You useless Seers and your cursed fates—and for what? A single moment of ruined glory?”

Your breath shallowed, airflow restricted. Agent Blue, several Dullahan, your brother, Dorian, and Lysander all emerged from the tree line, pausing as they saw you being held hostage. You closed your eyes for a moment as the icy hands constricted around your throat even further.

“Tell me where she is, and you get to live, Seer,” he snarled, his face nearing your ear. “She is my perfect match, my BloodSong. She is fated to be mine, my apprentice!” he howled. “Give her to me, my right!” His nails started to lengthen, turning into claws, digging against your skin. “Or I’ll drink you dry first and use you as fuel to take these maggots down.”

You brother’s face had gone ashen in horror, staring at you as though trying to deny his own eyes. His face twisted in despair.

“I’ll never give her up to you,” you answered, aware that everyone could hear you despite the rain. You tilted your head up, letting the rain wash over your face. “I am a Seer,” you declared, loudly, proud of it for the first time in your life. “And I embrace the Curse of my Fate. I pay the price gladly, if it means the power to make sure you never lay a finger on her.”

The Pricoli snarled, the rage almost audibly warping his voice into something demonic. “Then meet your Fate, Seer.”

Your knees gave out the moment his fangs ripped into your jugular. Strangely enough, the pain wasn’t even that bad, you mused hazily. Your eyes—were they blurred by tears or the rain?—rolled up to see your brother, mouth open as he reached for you. Even Lysander, white fur matted and soaked, had his maw open as his snout pointed to the sky.

Distantly, you could hear screaming. A roar, loud, tumbling through your chest, rattling into the ground. The crackling of fire. Everything started to get.. so… cold. Vaguely, as the hand shoved you forward and you landed against the ground, you could see out of the corner of your eye the Pricoli hunch forward. Despite the pain, the numbness… your lips curled in a vindictive smile.

The crimson eyes turned to you, a horrified anger sweeping through them as they landed on your twisted grin. A cold hand went up to his throat, and the Pricoli started to choke. His body lurched, tongue lolling as he gagged on your blood, his veins starting to light from the inside out with a toxic green. Slowly, agonizingly, he fell to his knees, his face contorted in a paroxysm of agony as he choked on your blood, your concentrated inherent magic tearing him apart from the inside out.

Your limbs felt sluggish as you forced yourself up, your ears ringing. Reaching up, you pressed your hand to your ruined neck and staggered to your feet, starting to lurch away from the destroyed corpse of the Pricoli. Warmth smeared across your skin, and every breath sent needles raking down your throat and into your lungs. Your feet stumbled, and before you realized it, you were leaning against something broad and firm.

Two icy blue eyes stared down at you, claws wrapping around your arms. Strangely enough, though, you didn’t fear that grasp. Lysander’s maw moved, you noticed faintly, but all you could hear was the persistent ringing in your ears. Vaguely, you reached up, your fingers clumsily landing on the side of his snout. Red smeared his fur, and your arm dropped down numbly to your side.

With the last of your strength, you forced your mouth to form the words that your shattered throat couldn’t say. Tell her goodbye.

The world spun into crimson.

Shivering, you shook your head as you curled into the corner that you’d pressed yourself into. Tears burned behind your eyes, and you heard your breath start to rasp and wheeze, rattling your throat.

Your brother’s face crumpled as he stared at you. “Please,” he begged, his voice wavering. “You need to drink.”

Agent Blue rested his hand on Ray’s shoulder. “Take it easy, son,” he said, voice firm but compassionate. “She’s understandably frightened. Even though she’s successfully gone through the change to being a damphyr, she’s had quite the scare and probably doesn’t want to feed.”

“But she needs to!” Ray exclaimed, frustration lacing his voice. “She’s already hurting.”

It was driving you insane. The pure power of the Will-o-the-Wisp’s blood was calling to you like a tempting beacon, and your brother’s hot blood practically screamed at you. The thirst flared in your throat, an ache so powerful you wanted to gag. It was like sandpaper. But you didn’t want to feed from them. You didn’t want to risk losing control, didn’t want to didn’t want to didn’t want to—

“I’ll take care of her.” Lysander stepped into the room. He turned to Ray. “She gave her life to save my daughter. This is the least I can do. I promise she’ll be in good hands.”

Your brother paused, then sighed, shoulders slumping. “I know you will, Sir,” he said, defeated. “I just…” He glanced over at you, eyes reflecting his misery.

Lysander reached out, squeezing Ray’s shoulder. “I understand,” he said quietly.

Ray nodded, then approached you again carefully. “Hey.” His voice softened. “I know you probably don’t want me around. But you have my number. Please, just… contact me when you’re ready, ok? You know I’ll be here for you, like I always have been. I’m gonna go back to Scotland, but you know how to reach me if you need anything. I won’t tell any of the family that you’re here.”

Swallowing back the drool, you tentatively reached out and barely ghosted your fingers against his cheek, hoping your eyes would convey your thanks. You just… needed space. Away from him, to control yourself, get yourself together.

But his expression turned a little more hopeful, and he nodded. “Love you, sis,” he said quietly. “Please… live.” With a small smile, he stood and followed Agent Blue out of the room.

With a quiet whine, you squeezed your eyes shut and tried to push past the unbearable, insistent pain scratching down your throat. Your throat roared for a drink. Your eyes snapped open when you heard Lysander approach. Though you didn’t know why, his presence always sent you into an absolute panic, though not of fear. Your thirst around him seemed to impossibly skyrocket. Like something about him drove you crazy.

He knelt, his blue eyes fixed on yours. He reached out slowly, giving you a chance to move away. Instead, your body froze, entirely fixating on the way his plaid shirtsleeve pulled tight around his arm, rolled up to his elbow. You swallowed thickly, his blood an absolute siren call. You could smell it, practically taste it. Dripping down your throat, into your veins, ambrosia sweet and thick— Drool slipped down the corner of your mouth, past the pressure of fangs against your lips.

Lysander’s eyes strained. “I know what it does to you,” he said quietly. “Just the fact that you’re not lunging for me right now is…” He sighed, his other hand raking through his hair. “I don’t know if I’m impressed or-“ His lips twisted as he cut himself off, as though conflicted. “There’s a reason why my blood calls to you.” He settled himself in front of you, making you want to scream as both relief and a frenzy of want roared through you.

“Of course, Mor is my daughter,” Lysander said, his voice low as he looked down at the floor between you. “But her Mother was… not my true Mate.” He sighed. “I didn’t really care, because I loved her. But she… well, she left me. Didn’t want Mor, didn’t want… me.” A self-depreciating smile passed across his face. “But it was okay, I had Mor and I only wanted the best for her. But still… somewhere inside me, I knew that my true Mate was out there somewhere.”

You almost couldn’t focus, his proximity almost painful because he was too far, and yet not close enough—

“And then you appeared, and Mor started to love you, and I—“ He sighed, hand reaching up to cover his face. “And I didn’t know if I wanted to run or stay.” His shoulders slumped. “Seeing you with Mor, working with you, talking with you… every moment I spend with you near is like agony, but when you leave it’s like you take a part of me with you and I can’t breathe.”

Abruptly, your mouth went dry, shocked almost clear out of bloodlust. Wait, was he saying-?

“I told myself that you’d be better off without me,” Lysander admitted, voice thick. “I’m… not young any more. You’re beautiful and— and you have so much more promise, a whole life ahead of you… I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. I’d gone for so long without my true Mate, I thought I’d be fine. But when I saw you lying on the ground…” He turned his face away, jaw ticking, a wild, feral light in his eyes. A low snarl rumbled through his chest, dissolving into a whine he quickly cut off.

He looked back up at you. “I’m not telling you this to make you feel… obligated to do anything. But you deserve to know the reason why my blood calls to you so strongly, and why— why I want you to drink from me. Why I don’t mind.”

Your mind whirled. The permission. The heady scent of his blood. The warmth he promised. The realization that he was calling you his true Mate. The way he looked at you, like you were the only thing he’d ever wanted.

Reaching up, you clapped your hand over your mouth with a half-sob of desperation. You wanted it. You practically ached for it, the kindness and love he offered. The promise of a family, a home, someone who had seen you at your worst and still somehow wanted you.

“Please,” Lysander rasped, his eyes laced with that same desperation roiling in his gut. “You don’t even have to accept me as a Mate. But you need to feed, and I—“

You were at your limit. You’d already taxed yourself as a newborn damphyr somehow trying to resist the frenzy of the first feed, and now that your Mate was in front of you, offering freely, practically begging you to feed from him, you could only take so much.

You lunged, a snarl dying on your lips as you lunged forward, the strength of your desperation actually knocking the seasoned werewolf down onto the floor. And still, even as you straddled his waist, your fingers curled around his shoulder, eyes fixed on the tempting expanse of his neck… you still tried to fight. Still tried to fight it, to control yourself.

But Lysander’s broad, warm hands gently wrapped around your waist, not fighting or pushing you off. The scar slashing across the left side of his face seemed to glow in the light streaming through the curtained window, and he gave you a smile.

“It’s okay,” he said, voice low and soothing. “I can handle it. I know you won’t hurt me.”

You shuddered, drool dripping down your fangs. Leaning forward slowly, you tried to keep yourself paced, tried to force yourself to some modicum of control. Mouth opening, you lowered your head until your fangs just barely grazed the crook of his neck and shoulder, not too close to his jugular but just enough.

The moment your fangs sank into his throat, Lysander’s fingers went weak around your waist. A deep groan pooled into the air, and a tremor ran through his body underneath you.

Heat pooled in your stomach, even as his blood slid down your throat with a satisfaction unparalleled. He tasted sweet and dusky, like fresh bread and sunshine, and freshly-cut grass after the rain. The pure heat and warmth he radiated soaked into you, and you felt the bloodlust slowly slake as you drank. Finally, you forced yourself to let go, vaguely aware with your instincts that you’d taken enough to not hurt him but probably still leave him a bit lightheaded for a moment.

The bite wound almost instantly healed over, and his grasp on your waist tightened again, fingers flexing as he regained his bearings.

You leaned your head against his chest, the gratitude and shame warring inside you. Grateful that he’d been so kind, so understanding and gentle. Ashamed of your own arousal, the way your entire being reacted to him.

Your name slipped from his lips, and a moment later his face pressed into your hair. His voice ached with the same torn desire that roiled through you. “I shouldn’t—“ He sucked in a sharp breath as you pressed your body flush against his. You could feel how tight his pants were, could feel the lines of his bulge pressed up against your thigh. A choked groan accompanied the way his hands spasmed around your waist.

“Mate.” The whisper slid from your mouth, the first thing you’d said aloud since your change. Your fingers clenched in his flannel shirt. “Mate… wants me?” Your voice cracked with your fear. Fear that he wouldn’t want to deal with you after all, that you weren’t worth it—

He pulled you closer to him, hand sliding to your hair. “So damn much, sweetheart,” he rasped, cradling your head to his shoulder. “You’re so goddamn beautiful and fierce— I don’t care if you’re human, Seer, damphyr. You’re my true Mate, my love.”

And you buried your face into his shoulder and let yourself shed a few tears of relief. He wanted you. Accepted you, in spite of everything.

“I know it’s not fair to ask you to stay,” his voice strained. “You gave your life for Morrigan, and I’m so much older—“

You reached up, your hands sliding up to cup his jaw as you slanted your lips over his, tears slipping down your cheeks. His mouth opened, kissing you back with a fervor as he splayed his hand over your lower back, pressing you into him. He let out a low growl, the sound rumbling through his chest and straight into your body. Your entire body flushed, and you let out a quiet whimper.

Almost before you could register it, he flipped you over onto the floor, hovering over you. His teeth bared, and he stared down at you with a heat in his eyes that scorched through you. His hands clenched around your waist, pulling your hips flush against his.

You whimpered, tilting your head to the side and exposing your throat to him, sprawled against the floor. Your chest heaved with breath, and a moment later his teeth closed gently on the arch of your neck. A soft breathy moan escaped your lips, eyes fluttering closed as his scent washed over you, his mouth marking your neck, replacing the memory of the Pricoli’s fingerprints mottled against your skin.

With an effort, Lysander wrenched himself away, though he half rutted against you. “Darling, I’m going to need you to tell me if you don’t want this,” he rasped, voice thick and half a snarl already.

“Lysander,” you whispered, lips caressing his name.

His hips stuttered, and he pulled you up against him before heaving himself up and staggering to the bed. He lowered you onto the bed, wasting no time before he practically yanked you to him, his hands hot and greedy. He kissed you, somehow still gentle and yet needy enough to take your breath away.

“May I?” He tapped your shirt.

You nodded shyly, letting him slide it off of you. You lifted your hips in an invitation, and he lowered his mouth to your neck as he slipped your shorts off. He groaned, hands sliding across your bared skin. His skin felt so hot to the touch against your chilled body, wholly satisfying. You practically melted into his hands like putty, malleable to however he touched you, moved you. He made you feel safe. Loved. Cherished. Wanted.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, voice hoarse. “So beautiful, leannen.” The Gaelic spilled naturally from his mouth as he slid his hands under your back, unhooking your bra. You let him slide it off, too desperate for the warmth of his hands to process embarrassment. His hands cupped your breasts, callouses rasping across your nipples in a way that left your breathless and aching.

You whimpered, a little encouraged by the way you felt his bulge throb against you at the sound. Fingers tangling in his shirt, you tilted your head for air, arching into his hands.

“Fuck,” Lysander hissed against your jaw, his hips rolling into you. His hands slid lower, and his thumbs hooked in your underwear. “Can I?”

You nodded, fingers clenching against his shoulders as he slid them off. His shirt was already straining at the seams, threatening to rip. At your tug, he took a moment to reach down and practically rip his shirt off, tossing it uncaringly to the side as he opened his mouth against your neck.

You were already dripping, just his touch and scent enough to arouse you. Breath hissed through his teeth as his fingers dragged through your slick, just barely brushing past your clit. A whine escaped your lips as you shivered, fingers slipping against his chest.

“You smell so good,” Lysander groaned, one finger slipping into you as his thumb rubbed circles around your clit. “Fuck, sweetheart, you’re wet. Can I take care of you?” he rumbled, teeth nipping at your ear. “You already gorged yourself on my blood. How about I fill you up with something else?”

You flushed, fangs sinking into your lower lip. “Please?” you whispered.

His ice blue eyes flashed, and his chest heaved under your hands. “Oh, are we a little desperate?” He smirked, sliding another finger into you, stretching you. “Want me to pull your legs up on my shoulders and keep you here all night?” He chuckled, feeling you pulse around his fingers. “Mmmm, I think your gorgeous body is being pretty honest, sweetheart. Well. I aim to please my Mate.”

You only had a moment to wonder when he’d managed to get his pants off. His fingers slid out of you, only for you to feel his cock rest heavily against your entrance. He slid against you, and you could feel a dribble of precum smear across your skin. One hand went to your waist, holding you, while his other found your clit again.

“Is this alright, sweetheart?” he asked, voice low and suddenly soft. “I’m a bit of a stretch. I’ll try to go slow.”

With how wet you were, you sincerely doubted that he would find much of a problem. Still, you swallowed and nodded, grateful for his care and the way he tried, every step of the way, to make sure you were comfortable. Then again, you could already tell he wasn’t lying about how big he was. You could feel him resting against you, throbbing against your thigh. Slowly, he pressed just the tip into you, his breath shuddering.

Your lips parted in a gasp as he stretched you open, sliding into you. Compared to the chill of your body, his cock practically radiated heat. By the time he completely bottomed out, pelvis flush against yours, you’d already come so close to the edge, drool slipping from the corners of your lips. He seemed to completely fill you, pressing up against every spot inside of you until you swore he’d stretched you into his shape.

Lysander slumped over you, his head tucking into the crook of your neck. His entire body shuddered, and his hands clenched around your waist. His chest heaved against yours, muscles flexing as though he were physically holding himself back.

“Thank you.” The shaky whisper pooled against your skin. “For saving her. Giving your life for her. Thank you. For choosing me.”

Your fingers slid into his salt and pepper hair, relishing the stubble against your neck and shoulder. “I love you.” The confession spilled from your lips, quiet in the room.

He shuddered, letting out a low moan. His fingers clenched, just as he pulled you down further onto his cock, pressing up into you. “Fuck, sweetheart,” he rasped. “Say it again.”

“I love you, Lysander,” you repeated obediently, wholly truthful. Your core clenched around him, and he hissed, pulling out to thrust back into you.

“I love you,” he groaned, starting to thrust in a slow but steady rhythm. He reached down, then pulled your legs up around his hips. The new angle made you pulse as he seemed to reach impossibly deeper into you, angling up justenough to hit that one spot inside you that had you gasping and arching.

“You’re so tight,” he growled, picking up the pace. “Feels so good, sweetheart. So good.”

He suddenly reached behind you and grabbed a pillow, then lifted your hips up to prop it under you. Setting you back down, he shifted himself up and pulled your legs up to his shoulders.

A cry left your lips, utterly wrecked and broken. His cock completely filled you, fucking any semblance of coherence out of you, going so deep you swore you could feel it in your stomach. He seemed to know exactly how to read your body, adjusting to every whimper you let out, not giving you a break as he kept pounding into you with devastating precision.

“You feeling good, sweetheart?” he chuckled, the sound raking down your spine. “Is this what you want?” He thumbed your clit, pressing a kiss to your lips. “You gonna give Mor a little sibling? Taking me so well like this, spread open for me?”

The thought of adding more kids to your life, together with Lysander, proved to be the last straw for your poor mind. You came, stars bursting behind your eyelids as you cried out his name and the wave of heat and pleasure washed through your body.

And Lysander just kept fucking you through it, going harder as he pinned you against the sheets under him, not caring that your fingers raked against his shoulders. He bent to kiss you, murmuring your name in a husky voice that just wrecked you even more. He gave you no mercy, his gaze predatory as he stared down at you, soaking in your ruined expression.

“That’s right, sweetheart. Cum for me,” he murmured, coaxing you through your high.

Even when you rode it out, he didn’t slow down or let up the pace. “You gonna make me cum, darling? Can I cum inside you?”

A plea staggered off of your lips, followed by his name. Your jumbled, blissed-out mind wouldn’t allow you to do anything else, barely recalling your own name.

“Fuck— gonna cum, sweetheart— gonna fill you up—“ He let out a moan before his hips slammed into you one last time. He ground against you as he came, his bruising grip not letting you move an inch away from him.

You melted back into the bed, eyes closing as you soaked in the feeling of his seed filling you, pouring into you. Your fingers slid up the back of his neck as you lay there, docile and welcoming to his every move. Even when he’d finally stopped spilling into you, your stomach full and hot, he slumped against you.

His lips slid across your throat, soft and almost reverent, and he pulled you into his body. He murmured soft endearments into your ear, his hands running over you with gentle, loving strokes, soothing you.

“I promise I’ll do my best to protect you, treat you the way you should be,” he promised. “I love you so much, sweetheart.” Then he chuckled, hand running over your stomach. “I wonder if Morrigan will want a brother or a sister. She’s already going to be so excited to call you Mommy.”

You gave him a shy smile, accepting his soft kiss. “Thank you, Lysander,” you whispered. “I love you.”

Perhaps the price of your Fate had been high, you thought, but it had been entirely worth it.

#elysiadjarinkinktober #elysiadjarin #x reader #my writing #mywriting #nsft #exophilia #terato #monsterfucker #xyou #smut #kinktober

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phoenixyfriend · 3 years

Text

Anakin and the Jedi Babies: Where There’s a Whill, There’s a Windu

Context: original post, chrono

(Summary of the AU: Disaster lineage got tossed back in time. Anakin stayed 21-ish, but Obi-Wan and Ahsoka got deaged, took new names for time-travel reasons (Ylliben and Sokanth, or Ben and Soka) and have been officially adopted by Anakin.)

----------------------

“You’re attached.”

“You’re just now noticing?”

Master Windu eyes him for a few long moments, and then joins him on the ground. Anakin can’t help but smirk. There’s something gratifying about having respect from the man, in this life.

“The other members of the council are concerned.”

“And you aren’t?”

“I am, but for other reasons,” Windu says.

Anakin doesn’t meet his eyes, doesn’t even respond for a long minute. He just looks out over the Room of a Thousand Fountains, spread out below them like hundreds of jungles pieced together in a jigsaw of flora. It’s been his favorite room in the Temple since he was a child, and it’s always overwhelming.

“Most of them have accepted that you adopted them because of Mandalorian customs, and that you stayed where you were due to the will of the Force,” Windu continues. “But they are… uncomfortable with how blatantly your attachments show.”

“Mandalorians are loud and refuse shame. It rubbed off.”

“You said you would kill for these children.”

“I’m their father. That’s kind of expected.”

Windu’s expression is tired. A little tired of stress, but mostly tired of Anakin’s shit. “You know what I’m trying to get at.”

“Do I?”

“Skywalker.”

“No, I’m serious. I need you to spell this out. I’ve had a million slightly-contradicting lectures on this topic, and I’ve been told pretty clearly that I misinterpreted a solid half of them. If you want a constructive conversation, you can’t be vague. I’m thirty-three years old and a father of two, Master Windu, so yes, I’m attached. What you mean by that word is going to change where this conversation goes.”

It’s gratifying to see the Master actually think it over.

“Ylliben’s tattoos have been causing the most recent stir,” Windu finally says. “They nearly all relate to family, whether new or old, and the symbolism is concerning to those who are already upset about the Mandalorian upbringing. They worry that he’ll remain too tied to people he grew up with, and unable to maintain neutrality in future diplomatic ventures, or at risk of a fall if one of the people he’s seen fit to memorialize is injured or killed. The assume a similar state of mind may be applicable to your daughter and yourself, especially given the off-color jokes about how possessive your children are about each other.”

“They’re worried about emotional immaturity,” Anakin summarizes. He offers a wan, unimpressed grin. “They do realize he’s fourteen, right? Nobody’s emotionally stable at fourteen. The hormones are out of whack.”

“I’m aware,” Windu grinds out. “And I’m aware that your histories, of war and all such things, make your ties much stronger, but you can see why the Council worries, especially those who are wary of the memories your children carry but won’t explain. I’m the only one you’ve told, Skywalker.”

“Plo and Depa know.”

“Plo and Depa aren’t on the council.”

“Yet.”

“Skywalker.”

He relents. “It’s not about Mandalore, Master Windu. It’s about Tatooine.”

Windu lets that sit for a few moments, and then sighs. “I don’t know enough about Tatooine to parse that.”

“Shmi and I are former slaves,” Anakin says, as bluntly as he can. “I was freed at nine, she at eleven, and for all that we are free, we’re not freeborn. We were born slaves, and raised slaves, and we were freed too late to forget that life. The way we think is always going to be affected by the way we grew up. That applies to all sentients, more or less, but it’s… the slave mentality is completely at odds with Jedi teachings, because Jedi teachings can only be taught in a safe environment.”

Windu nods slowly, and says, “That does make sense, but it’s… forgive me, but that’s why we don’t normally take children older than four.”

“From the perspective of teaching cultural values, that makes sense,” Anakin allows. “Teaching a Jedi child that’s cared for with communal resources that they do not need material things to be happy is fine; trying to convince a slave child of the same, someone who grew up being told they do not deserve material things, and that their owner can take anything at any time, including family? I lived that life, trying to adjust to ascetic Jedi values that coincided poorly with slave rules. I know exactly how poorly that transition can go when the person caring for the child doesn’t know how to handle the points of conflict.”

“Do you regret joining the Jedi?” Windu asks.

Anakin shakes his head. “My Jedi master, bless him, cared, and tried very hard, but he wasn’t ready to handle a kid like me and in hindsight, I know that. He needed grief counseling, and I needed therapy, and neither of us was getting it. I don’t… I don’t believe anyone in the Temple would have known how to handle a kid like me.”

“But you don’t regret it.”

“I was meant to be a Jedi,” Anakin says, as firmly as he can without getting unnecessarily bitchy about it. “My struggles with the Code aside, I was meant to be here. But the Temple doesn’t have any resources for children who come older, and I think… I think you do need that.”

“You just outlined why a child can’t follow the Code if they come from a different enough background,” Windu says.

Anakin shakes his head. “No, that’s not—I think a kid like me can learn to be a Jedi, if a little unconventional, if they’re taught correctly. The desperation to cling to anyone and anything you have can be unlearned. It takes time and effort, but it’s possible. Soka and Ben are good at balancing Tatooine care with Jedi control. If you talk to Ben, you get an entire philosophical breakdown about it, but I’m more concerned with the child psychology, because that’s what could have broken me.”

Windu frowns. “You’re building up to something.”

“I think the Jedi need programs for children found older who can’t become full Jedi,” Anakin asserts. “Even those who cannot reconcile what they absorbed growing up with the Code and Jedi tradition… they, we, need guidance. The Council tried to reject me for being too old, and now that I’m grown I understand why, but… Master Windu, what do you think would have happened to me if I hadn’t had my Master to fight for me, and had been turned away?”

“We’d have looked into placing you back with your mother and, upon finding out that she was still enslaved, secured her freedom,” Master Windu says. “Qui-Gon Jinn had taken responsibility for you, and thus you were a ward of the Temple until such a time as you were safe again. It would have been cruel to keep you from your mother if we were not to raise you a Jedi, and crueler still to allow you to return to slavery.”

“And you think I’d have been safe with her?” Anakin asks. He needs Master Windu to understand this. “You think that would have ended well?”

“You don’t?”

“Ventress,” Anakin says. “Maul. Aurra Sing, even.”

Windu considers that. He looks across the grand, green room of the garden, and finally speaks. “You think you’d have been found and corrupted by a Sith.”

“I’d already helped Naboo win a battle. I was a powerful child with no support system in this respect, eager to please,” Anakin says. “Ventress and Maul both got twisted into Sith Apprentices. Aurra Sing was just a bounty hunter, but… even if the Jedi had never found me, and the Sith remained unaware, do you think I’d have ended up better than Sing? Or would the pressures of slavery have led to my Fall anyway, eventually slaughtering my owner, the Hutts, the entire system of Tatooine’s hells?”

Windu rubs a hand over his forehead. “I understand what you’re getting at.”

“It’s not just me,” Anakin says, as carefully as he can. “Even without the Sith, there are plenty of Force-Sensitive children in terrible situations that are liable to Fall just because of how power is wielded by those at the bottom. Refusing to take on students who are already at risk… the Jedi are meant to monitor Force users to prevent Sith and other dark-aligned people from harming the galaxy. It’s one of our primary duties. If the Jedi are allowing darksiders to rise just because of an age limit…”

“I get it,” Windu says, just a little aggressive. “I understand. Give me a minute.”

Anakin tries to wait. He’s older now, he can do that. He can be patient.

He tries to convince himself that it’s true.

“You have a point,” Master Windu finally allows. “And with the knowledge that the Sith are out there, still, it’s a more salient point than most would think. The EduCorps already has a subdivision for teaching meditative techniques to low-level force users who need to learn shielding but aren’t sensitive enough to be Jedi, or are just too old, but I see your point about encouraging a program for powerful Force-Sensitives that aren’t discovered early enough to integrate into the community in full.”

“And a more comprehensive Search pattern for the Outer Rim?” Anakin suggests. He shrugs at the look he gets. “What? You’ve seen my midicount. I was on Tatooine for almost a decade, and the only reason anyone found me was that Qui-Gon had to crash a ship in the middle of nowhere. I’m sure the Force led him to me, given all the coincidences, but that’s still a solid nine years that nobody did, despite how I apparently ‘shine like the sun’ or whatever.”

“Humble.”

“The last time I took a midichlorian test on a portable counter, it literally broke the device. That’s not arrogance, that’s just absurd.”

Windu looks exhausted by the comment. Anakin can’t bring himself to feel too bad about it.

“What about Jedha?” Anakin suggests instead. “Jedi find the kids, but if they’re too old to be Jedi, we could coordinate with one of the temples at Jedha to see about having them raised in the traditions of the Whills? They’re a little less orthodox, aren’t they?”

“In some respects,” Master Windu says. “More constrained in others, but… it’s a possibility. Most of the overlooked children, yourself included, are from parts of the Outer Rim that aren’t part of the Republic, Skywalker.”

Anakin shrugs. “And many of them would have been happy to be found and collected by a Jedi, even if they couldn’t become Jedi. Not the Dathomiri, since they’ve got their own thing going on, but… from what I know about Ventress, she actually did have a Jedi Master before the situation on Rattatak became… what’s the word… untenable? He died and she was left alone, and she’d been a slave already and it just… did not end well for her. But that was a planet overrun by pirates and warlords, and would have been approved as a planet the Jedi could help without it being a weird colonialism thing… if the Senate weren’t made up of cheapskates, at least.”

“Skywalker.”

“My name isn’t actually a reprimand, you know.”

“You’re not supposed to just say that,” Windu groans, running a hand over his face. “The Senate’s choice in funding is not optimal, but insulting them in that way, even in private—”

“They’re assholes,” Anakin says, and doesn’t let his humor show. “Except my late wife, but she’s not part of the Senate in this time, so I feel no shame in accusing the entire shitshow of being cheapskates.”

Windu looks about ready to push him off the ledge.

“You’re never allowed to go on diplomatic missions, are you?” Windu mutters.

“Unless it’s to Mandalore,” Anakin clarifies. “Also, never send me to Tatooine. Ever. Please. I kriffing hate that planet.”

“I’m going to assume you have plans to kill a Hutt if we ever send you to—”

“Yes.”

“Okay,” Windu sighs. “I’ll discuss this with the Council, see how they feel about reaching out to Jedha for your suggestion regarding the Whills.”

“And you’ll tell them not to worry about my kids?”

“Skywalker, they are never going to stop worrying about your family,” Windu tells him.

“That’s fair.”

#Anakin Skywalker #Mace Windu #Obi Wan Kenobi #time travel #de aging #Jedha #Jedi #Phoenix Posts #Anakin and the Jedi Babies

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esamastation · 3 years

Text

Breath of the Wild snippet

Link is bored. It's a little startling how easy it's to see – how easy he's to read these days. Where before, hundred years ago, he'd been as unreadable as a brick wall, a look of serious determination as though permanently etched to his face, now he's an open book, covers flung wide. The serious frown still makes an appearance, of course, it's his default expression, Link's face simply rests in a way that makes him seem as though he's almost scowling, but now, should an emotion cross his mind… he does nothing to hide it.

Like now, as his attention strays and his eyes wander and every so often he smothers a sigh or a yawn or a longing look directed at the door. It's in part painfully and in part endearingly clear how little attention he's paying to their meeting, and how much he wishes he could be elsewhere.

Zelda smothers a smile and then realises she's allowed herself to be distracted, and quickly turns her attention back to the meeting taking place in Impa's house.

"... a little difficult to test," Purah is saying. She's sitting cross legged in the middle of the floor, her seat cushion abandoned and papers flung about her – most of them about her anti-aging rune. "I can't even promise the test subject will survive the process, never mind that it will work even fifty percent of the time... so finding people to volunteer has been an issue."

"What, no old folks interested in regaining their misspent youth?" Robbie asks with a slight snort, adjusting his goggles. "I'd happily test it, if my work wasn't too important to risk!"

Purah gives him a look. "Well, duh. Most folk are the same," she says and shakes her head. "And besides, the population and age statistics don't exactly trend towards the elderly these days. The average life expectancy of both Hylians and Sheikah both trend about forty years younger than it used to be pre-Calamity. And the only way for people to reliably grow old these days –"

"Is to have a family or other support network, helping them," Impa muses, rubbing at her chin. "Which means they have things too dear to lose, for an uncertain chance."

"Just so," Purah says and folds her little arms, adorable in her seriousness. "I did post queries around Hateno village, of course, but I only had a couple of takers, and they all turned tail when I explained the risks. And we can't improve the chances without further testing. And we can't do further testing without candidates. And we're not likely to get more candidates with the chances being what they are - it's a vicious circle."

By the door, Link looks ready to nod off.

Zelda hums, looking at the papers Purah had brought, conflicted. It's incredible work, just as a concept, and Purah hadn't just left it at theory – and the results certainly speak for themselves! Purah is now, what, hundred and twenty, hundred and thirty years old? And she looks as though she is a girl of six, with all that time ahead of her and not behind. If the technology could be made reliable, it would no doubt change the future in ways Zelda can scarcely imagine… for the better, she hopes, for all the people of Hyrule.

But right now, she has more selfish reasons to make enquiries into the rune.

Zelda looks at Impa, sitting on top of a pile of pillows, her weathered, aged face thoughtful. Their eyes meet and Zelda steels her resolve. "Might there be any potential candidates in Kakariko village, Impa?" she asks.

"Hmm. I doubt it. Young Zain, maybe?" Impa muses. "Well, he's not so young. He's in his seventies, he has bad knees and no surviving relatives to support or be supported by. Bit of a sour grape, that one, though. Sceptic. Hard to convince."

"I'm sure if the Lost Princess and the Hero who stopped Ganon ask for it, anyone would be happy to give it a go!" Robbie says, slapping his folded knees. "Especially if they learn what it's all for!"

Zelda smiles, wincing, and looks down. Using her standing for such a thing… sure she'd done things of that nature before, pleading people to join their cause, ages ago… but never with the risks so high, and potential results so uncertain. She'd never liked asking people to risk their lives, for her or otherwise. Even with a cause so important...

"It would be a somewhat awkward thing to ask, though," she muses and looks down. "It is an awkward thing to ask. I'm… I'm sorry to have to ask it of you."

After all this time, all these years, all the service they'd already put in, to ask for so much more of them… but she had to. No one woman could rebuild a kingdom by herself. She needed help, she needed allies – she needed Impa and Robbie and Purah. With such a foundation, Hyrule might yet rise, better than ever, but for that to ever happen… Impa and Robbie needed to go through what Purah already had, and extend their already prodigiously long lives even further. They all deserved their quiet retirement, after all the effort they'd put in, but for Hyrule, Zelda would make this cruel request.

"Ha!" Robbie says, striking a pose. "Like I wouldn't do this without being asked! As soon as Purah can improve the odds – no, as soon as we can improve the odds –"

"What's that, you old coot, what do you mean by we?" Purah depends, bouncing to her feet. "If you think I will let you ever into my lab, mister, you're sorely mistaken –!"

"If we work together, combine the efforts of Akkala and Hateno tech labs, we're sure to succeed! With Cherry's incredible computing power and your Stone –"

"Your creepy ancient furnace is getting nowhere near my Guidance Stone!"

Link startles awake at the noise they're making and Zelda smothers a giggle while Impa sighs.

"I will ask Paya to check in on Zain, maybe he will be interested," Impa says and shakes her head. "But it's still a small test study, with only two subjects. I'm sorry, Zelda – as much as I wish to do this, I am with Robbie on this. The chances are too low and I have too much to lose, right now. Paya is nowhere near ready to take over for me here. There needs to be more candidate's, first, and I don't know where we can get them. But," she hums and looks away. "There might be someone who does."

Link yawns and then freezes, finding all of them staring at him. Then, clearly baffled, he points at himself quizzically, and Zelda offers him a smile.

Impa chuckles. "You've been all over Hyrule now, Link – you've traveled farther than probably anyone has in a hundred years. Better than anyone, you know the state of her people. Do you think there is anyone out there who might be interested in Purah's study – in regaining their youth, even at a risk?"

Link scratches the back of his neck thoughtfully and then takes out the Sheikah Slate, opening the map with an easy, well practiced wipe of his fingers over the screen. Zelda leans in, once more amazed – and a little jealous – of how far he'd gotten with it, how full of markers the map is. Hundred years ago, she'd estimated that there might be as many as a dozen sites of ancient Sheikah technology all over Hyrule. Link had discovered over a hundred. They now glow on his map, like glittering blue gems, the Towers and Shrines he'd seen and mastered.

Link zooms in on the map and then puts down three other markers. One in Zora's domain, one in Gerudo Town and last in Lurelin Village. Turning the slate around, he shows the map to everyone.

"Of course," Zelda breathes in realisation. "The Guardians never reached so far, so their populations were never so scattered or scarred. In Zora's domain, in Gerudo Town and in Lurelin, people can grow old peacefully, without fear of attack."

Link makes a face and a wobbling gesture with his hand and then shrugs. Zelda smiles, sadly. "Aside from monsters and other disasters and misfortunes, of course," she agrees. "But without fear of attacks by Guardians, they were allowed to prosper."

"Not the Rito, though?" Robbie asks, his goggles whirting and shifting like the eyes of a gecko as he looks between the map, Link and Zelda. "Or the Gorons?"

Link shrugs, rubbing at his neck.

"Gorons age like rocks, Daruk always said," Zelda muses. "And I suppose with Rito it can be difficult to tell their ages. If we send out invitations to the study, we should include them as well – assuming that the treatment by the rune isn't Sheikah exclusive…?"

Purah rocks back and forth on her feet thoughtfully, almost as though she's about to dance. "I… don't know? I calibrated the first version based on my own physiology, so it might be best to stick to Sheikah and Hylians for a start – but I can't see why it couldn't be adjusted. Gerudo are closer in structure to us than Rito and Gorons, or Zora for that matter. Might be best we start there, when we begin making modifications to include everyone."

"So, begin with Lurelin," Robbie says and nods. "How do we do that?"

"We'll make some posters and Link can zip in and out of Lurelin Village to post them," Purah says and strikes a pose. "It's just a snap for the Sheikah Slate."

Impa hums in agreement. "Best we make advertisements for Kakariko and Hateno as well, and perhaps some of the stables," she muses. "You never know who might take us up on it, and getting this technology to work at hundred percent will be a benefit to everyone."

"You're right," Zelda agrees, nodding. "Purah and Robbie, I suppose you two know best what should go on the poster. Can you make it?"

"It'll work much better, with your name under it," Robbie points out.

"We'll write a draft and you can copy it and put your royal touch and seal to it," Purah says and does an excited little dance. "This is so exciting! We'll get so many applicants and my little Guidance Stone will get to do it's thing!"

Zelda offers her a smile, all the while wondering, not for the first time… how much of a royal she even is, at this point. With the castle in ruins and the Kingdom in shambles, with no one to rule it for a hundred years… all that Zelda is now... is a story. The Princess that went to fight Calamity Ganon as the Kingdom fell asunder all around her. Not many even believe it. That might change with this meeting and the following cooperation, especially when they'd begin reaching out further, but right now…

Princess of nothing indeed.

"So much was lost," Zelda murmurs, carefully resting her hands in her lap to keep herself from wringing them. She shouldn't concentrate on the losses. Not when there's so much to do. "It will be good to build something for a change. To improve things."

"Indeed," Impa says, nodding her head, her heavy hat tilting. "But if Calamity Ganon taught us anything, it is that we should take all due caution."

"Yes. And speaking of which," Zelda says and lifts her eyes to Robbie. "Your research in Akkala – I would very much like to hear more about it. Link showed me the armour and weaponry you made, they're very impressive – how did you manage it?"

Robbie all but launches himself into the story of Akkala Ancient Tech Lab, the research he'd done there, the progress he'd made, enthusiastically recounting the creation of his Ancient Furnace, Cherry. Zelda leans in, allowing herself to be drawn in, and by the door Link settles down with a sigh and begins nodding off again.

Hmm hmm. Took me 3 years, but I finally finished botw.

I might continue this one and it might end up a Stargate crossover. Who knows.

#fanfiction #botw #loz #breath of the wild #legend of zelda breath of the wild #spoilers

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