#their ties to the desert are so strong and so deep

[jackalhadrurusluvr]

"ill stop infodumping on my priv twt," i said, "i'll start oc posting on tumblr," i said, like i liar. and by infodump on twt i mean i say a lot of this [in reference to dune]:

anyways. jackal doesnt even know hes a messiah. he doesnt even know that he has saved the desert. he doesnt even know it was prophetical. he doesnt know his importance. he doesnt know the Basilisk he prays to watches over him.

and ohhhhh, dune doesnt even know. dune doesnt know that the man he loves more than anything else in the endless universe is connected to the god he'd abandoned his faith in. he doesnt even know that when he curses the Basilisk for all thats happened that It is looking over jackal, keeping him safe, keeping him alive. he doesnt even know. he will never, ever know.

well, he might, someday. dune knows jackal prays. dune knows jackal has faith. dune hates it, anger swirls in his soul and he wants to shake jackal and tell him, please, please, just put your faith in me - that god had abandoned us and doomed us to this fate, it has doomed you, you have all this responsibility just because it couldn't stop your father and it couldn't have someone else stand up. its unfair. its unfair that it has to be you.

there is a 50/50 chance that they will be separated in the afterlife. jackal already has a place in the Caves, in heaven; it was decided as soon as he was born. dune is not a good person. he doesnt try to be. he is hardened by the world and his anger has melded over all of his other feelings; he has lost hope, in the world and its people. he fears with all his heart that he will be Swallowed, end up in hell, never to see jackal again. its why he despises the Basilisk so much - no matter what dune does, it has the power to separate them

[misserabella]

okay so imagine bondage with ellie or abby. just… god.

tie me up

abby anderson x fem reader!

cw; +18 content, minors dni!!!, bondage, masturbation (abby), lots begging, praising, teasing, face riding, oral sex (abby receiving), cum eating, fingering (reader), multiple orgasms, strap on sex (reader receiving), feral rough sex, dirty talking, strap referred as abby’s cock, hair pulling…

okay but how abby would get off by having you open and ready for her unable to move a single muscle?

you’d be on your shared bed, legs open yet ankles tied to the side of it, just like your hands, over your head. you were unable to even get some friction, some relief for your aching and throbbing leaking cunt.

“you look so pretty baby…” abby grunted, sitting on a chair in front of you, staring at your exposed and flushed body. your hair was softly laying on the pillows, your chest rising and lowering heavily, making your tits bounce, perky swollen nipples due to her prior sucking and playing shining in spit. she was naked as well, strong thighs spread as one of her hands touched her drooling pussy. her fingers dipped in her soaked folds, fingertips teasing her clit. “pussy so wet and ready for me. she’s dripping. can’t wait to fuck all your cum outta you. gonna look so good on my cock, gonna fill you up so nice and slow…”

“fuck, abby please…” you couldn’t drift your eyes away from her. you were aching to be touched, dying to be fucked. you wanted to feel her, taste her. “need you. need you please.”

“yeah? you need me baby? tell me what you need.” she ordered and you whimpered.

“need to taste you.” you breathed out. “can you sit on my face? please, sit on my face abby, please…”

“you want me to fuck that pretty mouth of yours? want me to make a mess outta you?” you nodded, biting down on your lip. “such good manners, asking for what you want so nicely… i might just give it to you.” your eyes shone as she got up. you stared at her toned abdomen, at her little and perky tits and broad shoulders. her blonde mound hid the slick that now drenched her thighs, the thighs that were now slowly straddling you, creeping up your body to lay at each side of your face.

you opened your mouth for her when she pressed her thumb on your bottom lip, sucking it and swirling your tongue around it. you moaned when your eyes met her drooling folds, her little throbbing and puffy clit. you wanted to devour her. your hands tried and grab her, push her down onto your mouth, only to tug against your restrains. “speak up doll. use your words.”

“sit.” you pleadingly whimpered once she had pulled her thumb out.

“pull your tongue out for me baby, get ready for it.” you followed, showing her your tongue, making her grunt at the sight. “so fucking needy…” she then finally lowered herself onto your mouth, your tongue slotting in between her pink folds. you moaned at the taste, and her at the feeling, one of her hands gripping the head board of the bed and the other lacing in your hair to tug. “oh shit just like that, eat my pussy baby.” she didn’t have to ask. you were starving for her, lapping at her slick as if it were water in the desert. “fuuuuck.” she moaned at your eagerness, slowly rocking herself against your tongue, making you hum as you sucked on her clit.

your hands tugged once again against the restrains. you needed to touch her. but you couldn’t. and somehow, it just turned you on so much… the pain of being so close yet unable to put your hands on her thick thighs, your fingers plugged deep inside on her wet and warm cunt…

you whined, your hips bucking against the air in need of some friction. you could feel the sheets dampening under you, soaked through.

your tongue pushed inside her as she humped your mouth, fucking herself on your tongue, groaning.

you were pussy drunk, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you slurped on her juices and mouthed ay her folds. she looked at you, so turned on by how you were eating her out… she loved it when you’d get like this.

you suckled on her clit, using your tongue to flick it and hearing abby moan. “fuck. i’m close princess.” you increased the pace, flattening it for her to ride it, her thrusts against your mouth getting harsher and her thighs shaking as her orgasm rapidly grew. it didn’t take long for her to gush all over your face, grunts and moans leaving her lips as she rode it on your tongue. you let her, moaning at the salty cum filling your mouth, drinking everything she’d give you. “so good…” she sighed, abs flexing and thighs shaky as she finally stood up on her knees, looking at your messy and fucked out state. “look at you. already so fucked out and i haven’t even dicked you down yet…” she smirked, leaving her position on top of you, positioning herself in between her legs, her blue eyes on your pussy as she licked her lips. “ate me out so well, baby… i think you need a reward, don’t you think?” your back arched when her fingers dipped in between your folds. “so sensitive.” you moaned. it felt so fucking intense you swore just by a mere touch you could cum. “so wet…” your cheeks flushed at the slick sounds your pussy made as her fingers dragged in between your folds.

you whimpered, your hips rutting against her touch, needing more. she complied, easily pushing two of her fingers inside of your cunt and curling them to hit your g spot. you couldn’t help it. before you knew you were cumming on them with a pornographic and loud moan. abby’s eyes widened, feeling your walls clench and convulse around her fingers, thighs shaking and back arching. she didn’t have words. “did you just…?” you were panting as your climax died down, hearing abby grunt before she was ramming her fingers inside you once again. you screamed. “fuck. cumming just by a little touch… you really enjoy this don’t you? being all tied up for me, sitting pretty like a little doll for me to use...” you nodded, bitting your lip.

“yes, yes, fuck, yes!”

abby relished on how your pussy squelches as she thrusted her fingers harshly into you, tits bouncing and moans spilling from your lips.

“abby. need you. need your cock, please…” you begged, stuttering, crying. you were a mess for her. you were her mess.

“yeah? you want my cock, princess? want me to split you open?” you whimpered, and nodded once again, crying once she pulled her fingers out of you to grab her strap and buckle it around her hips. she hushed you. “feeling empty, baby? don’t worry. i’m gonna fill you up so good you’ll feel me for a whole week, gonna break you, mold you to my cock so good…” you cried out when you felt the tip prodding against your entrance, your legs and arms pulling at the restrains when she plunged inside with a grunt. all breath left your lungs, feeling so full it almost hurt. but it hurt so good. “thaaats it. fucking take it.” she watched as your lips stretched around the silicone as she slowly moved her hips, thrusting inside once again, nice and deep. this pace didn’t last though. it didn’t take long before she was ramming into you like an animal, fucking your brains out. the squelches of your pussy taking her drove her feral, her hands harshly gripping your hips, leaving marks. her eyes met the bulge on your lower stomach, and she pressed against it, making your vision turn white and your back arch with a scream. “you feel that? feel how deep i am inside you baby?”

“abby, i’m gonna cum!” you cried, tears spilling down your cheeks and neck, wrists hurting for fighting against the rope.

“yeah that’s right. cum for me. cream my cock, doll, want to see it drip.” your orgasm crashed over you with a scream that ripped your throat, your thighs shaking as she rammed into you over and over again so harshly you felt like bruising, felt her on your cervix. “that’s it. good girl. good. fucking. girl.” she grunted in between thrusts, fucking every last and single drop of cum out of you.

your whole body was felt boneless and exhausted by the time your high had come to an end and abby had pulled out, watching your cum soaking her strap and dripping down onto the sheets.

and when she looked into your eyes, she knew that it wouldn’t be the last time you two would do this.

-

a/n; 🎀 want her to use me as her little doll<3

[feluka]

1- that's NOT what's taught in US schools. i know schools in the US have a strong racist bias and are lacking but you can't convince me it teaches you *nothing* at all about the region other than it being barren desert, because our region has very deep historic ties with events that you surely have learned about in the west (think of the crusades for example) or at least have learned about it for their religious significance.

2- that excuse only works until you're... what? 12? and then i'm so sorry to tell you i'm going to hold you to a higher standard than your school does!

[shhhsecretsideblog]

Your prompt request #13 "not here... not now..."

In the midst of a battle between two kingdoms, you go into labor. While the city breaks into chaos, you try to escape while trying to deny the birth.

Female character can either deliver the child deep in the woods while on the run or hiding in the rubble, trying to keep quiet as she births her child.

You choose! And thank you for choosing to make an account for your wonderful work! Obsessed with your first fic! 🫶

Not Now… Not Here…

[This was one of the first asks/prompts I received and made me so happy to have created this side blog. Thank you so much Anon for your request and your kind words at the end. Hope you enjoy! 💜 Fpreg 2917 words & Beta’d by the wonderful @gravid-transluna ]

Marion stood by the open window in her bedroom, hands braced against the window sill, as she watched the billows of smoke and the sounds of screaming get closer and closer to home. Tensions had been building between Alleria and its neighbouring kingdom for many years and it had only been a matter of time before one of the Kings ordered their troops to attack. The battle had been raging for days… weeks now, with news from the frontlines making it back to the city as the wounded returned. Unfortunately for the residents in Alleria the battleground was moving ever closer towards the city, and for Marion this was even more unfortunate for she was currently deep in the throes of labour.

She gripped the wooden ledge below her window and bounced her knees and hips through the latest contraction.

“Mnnnnhhhhh… oh little one, you have a terrible sense of ti— ohhhhhh… timing.” Marion moaned softly, her hips swaying instinctively as the tightening coursed across her middle while the weight of the baby’s head filled her pelvis.

When the contraction had faded back into a dull ache Marion looked up again at the city slowly falling to the destruction of war. The smoke seemed closer than it had an hour ago, the battleground was heading right across the city in the direction of her home. The pains had started yesterday but were manageable back then - she could continue moving around and getting everything prepared for the birth. The war was far from the city at that point and it did not occur to Marion that she would not be safe to labour and birth here - Alleria had never allowed their borders to be penetrated before, but the invading Kingdom’s forces were too strong.

Marion held the underside of her heavy and tight belly, her thin olive green dress stretched around her enlarged middle. She had never given birth before but had helped in many a delivery around the town. It was a rite of passage for a woman to deliver her children - the men-folk would almost never be present while the labouring mother would be supported by female friends, family or neighbours.

Marion didn’t have any of those but she wasn’t phased to be doing this alone - she preferred things that way. However, as she looked down through her window at the empty and deserted street below, fear and panic began to claw at her thoughts. Perhaps she should flee the city as well. A loud scream and sound of metal against metal echoed through the streets. The battle was getting closer, she needed to leave. Now.

Grabbing a canvas bag Marion quickly threw some items inside; blanket, clothes, water, food. As she was frantically waddling around her small rented room another contraction hit out of nowhere only minutes after the last.

“Hoooooooo— oh fuck….” Marion doubled over and braced her thighs as the pressure and pain skyrocketed. Her pelvis was being pulled apart as the baby’s head shoved its way through, almost certainly at the top of her cervix by now. The immeasurable weight and pressure was overwhelming and Marion found herself grunting against it.

“Mnnghhhh!!!” Marion growled, but the sound was swallowed by a loud explosion coming from a few streets away.

“Ooooh… so— so low. Don’t come now baby, just a— a little bit longer.” She pleaded to her rounded belly, holding it with both hands as she straightened back up. Grabbing her bag of supplies Marion bolted for the door to the stairs at the back of the building. She had to get out of here, get herself far away from the incoming battleground before she delivered this babe.

The stairs were awkward and difficult to descend with her dangerously wide gait from an extremely low baby. But Marion eventually made it down to street level and looked around; there was no one left - everyone had already fled. She waddled as fast as she could in the opposite direction from the rising cries of battle, her hands holding up her taut and tensing belly as if her grip alone could stop her labour. Marion was too busy worrying about safe routes out of the city to realise the next contraction was fast approaching and when it struck she found herself dropping into a deep squat in the middle of the cobbled street.

“Grrrrrrrhhhhh….! Oh Gods… So— so much pressure!” She groaned, her bag of supplies slipping from her shoulder as she squatted and grabbed her knees. Instinctively she mooed and growled her way through the latest wave, each one seeming to strike with more ferocity than the last. Marion would be self-conscious making such a public display of her labouring but with the streets deserted she allowed herself to make whatever noises she needed to get her through the pain of childbirth.

Eventually it passed, but the delay in her movements meant the sounds of battle were only a stone's throw away. The harsh sounds of doors and windows smashing echoed off the buildings and Marion thought she could hear incoming heavy footsteps. If the owners of the heavy stomps were just of Allerian troops then she would be okay but, if they were of the invading forces there was no telling what they would do with a woman wandering alone on the streets. The clinking of swords colliding got louder. Both troops were getting closer. Marion could not get caught in the crossfire - she’d be as good as dead.

She ran, as fast as her wide legs could carry her, away from the brutal fighting. She barely made it round the corner down a narrow side street when she was forced to stop once more. Slumped against the brick wall, Marion curled around her hard belly and trembled as she struggled to stay upright. The heavy boulder of a baby’s head was right there, filling her birth canal with so much pressure she thought she might explode. There was no stopping the primal grunt that rattled her throat as every muscle seemed to contract and squeeze the baby towards its exit.

“Nnghhhhh!!!” She roared against the pain and it was immediately followed by a gush of warm liquid running down her thighs and splashing the beige cobbles underfoot. At the tail end of the contraction she felt it - deep in her genes an instinct was telling her to start pushing.

“No….” She whimpered. “Not now… not here… hoohoo-hoohoo…” Marion panted erratically, fighting against her body’s advancing labour.

When the contraction somewhat eased the mother-to-be staggered bowlegged down the deserted side street, the large head shoving its way through her cervix. She made it through to the next street over but Marion had no clue where she was going, no planned destination she was trying to reach. Instead she was just desperately waddling as far away as she could from the noise of battle. She thought she had more time to find an alternate place to give birth but the increasing weight and pressure between her legs was soon proving her wrong. Out in the open of this new street she doubled over against a shop window - palms flat on the glass, her hips jutting backwards and her heavy belly hanging towards the floor.

“Ohhhhhh… no, don’t push… don’t— mnghhh don’t p-p-push…” she chanted over and over, panting and sweating and shaking while the baby inside sank lower and lower.

Running and shouting and screaming could be heard from the end of the street. Marion, still caught in the midst of a powerful contraction, glanced down the road towards the sound and saw at least a dozen men rounding the corner. Their metal plated armour, the colours of their tunics, their pale faces - none of it was familiar. These were enemy soldiers. The labouring mother slipped around a corner to hide down another side street, her legs stuck so wide it looked like she was about to drop the kid any second. And it felt that way too. With one hand holding onto the wall, the other disappeared under her dress between her thighs. No baby yet, thankfully, but she was starting to bulge into her underwear.

Deep and gruff shouting echoed from the high street, the invading warriors were jeering and smashing everything in their path. Despite the continuing contraction, Marion shuffled a little further into the alleyway, into the shadows and tried to hide behind some broken wooden crates. The soldiers were shouting in a language she didn’t understand, but the tone of their rough voices were clear - they were winning this war.

One… three… seven… Marion looked through the gap in the crates counting the foreign soldiers as they stomped past the entrance to the narrow side street, the burly and primitive men kicking and smashing and destroying every single thing they passed.

The next contraction ramped up before the last had even faded away and Marion slapped a hand over her mouth to stop any sounds escaping. Her baby was insistent, desperate to be born. The pressure screamed at her to push and her stance instinctively widened, but as she moved her foot she kicked something hard and metal sending it tumbling across the cobbles with a clang.

Her heart stopped, her breathing seized. Marion’s eyes flared with panic and looked nervously through the gap in the wooden crates towards the entrance of the side street. There was no way that sound wasn’t noticeable, a second later Marion’s fears were realised when two strange looking men stood at the archway of the dark sidestreet, staring into the shadows looking for the source of the noise.

Push!

Marion stayed perfectly still, her hand squeezed over her mouth, her nose breathing as silently as humanly possible. She could not let them find her, Gods only knew what they would do to her, especially if they had conquered Alleria.

Push!

The contraction still tore across her body, her belly contorted into a solid, hard ball beneath her dress as it tried to deliver the child. The pressure between her thighs was making her eyes water, the weight was pulling everything downwards, and her vagina was starting to burn. And yet Marion remained still, not moving an inch.

Push!

The men were talking to themselves, grumbling incoherently in their foreign tongue, pointing and staring down the narrowed cobbled strip. Marion’s legs were trembling, her knees sinking, and as she held her breath in fear of discovery she realised too late that her body was pushing. Without instruction or permission the baby was shoved down the birth canal, feeling like it was seconds away from falling into her underwear. But she couldn’t help it, couldn’t stop herself from bearing down. Behind her sweaty palm Marion’s mouth opened in a silent scream as she pushed and immediately could feel her labia starting to part beneath her clothing.

Oh fuck! Marion thought, trying to stop the impossible. Please don’t come out now!

She fought against her instincts for the longest minute of her life, desperately trying not to push and trying to stay silent. Eventually the strange men lost interest, deciding nothing was hiding down this side street, and continued to ransack the surrounding shops with their fellow soldiers. Marion slumped back against the wall when the soldier's departure coincided with the slight easing of the contraction. With heavy breaths quieter than a whisper, she tried to regain a normal rhythm in her lungs.

This baby could not be born now, here, it had to hold on for her to get somewhere safe. Away from the carnage of war and away from her foes. Then there was a sudden bang, a moving wall of heat, and a victorious cheer coming from the adjacent street - the enemy had started burning buildings causing a giant explosion.

Debris flew through the air, shards of brick and building raining from the skies and Marion spun around, curling around her bump, to protect herself and the baby. She staggered, bowlegged, deeper down the dark alleyway to try to get away from the destruction but with the contractions almost on top of each other she barely made four unsteady steps before she had to pause. The baby was right there, she could feel it. Her hand dived between her legs to check and felt with her fingertips the spherical shape between her folds peaking into her undergarments. The primal need to give birth took over once more and whether she wanted to or not, Marion found herself bearing down with the contraction.

This baby could not be born, not now and not here. If she could not stop pushing she would have to find another way. With her hand wedged between her thighs she clamped it firmly over the mass in her sodden underwear, and with a low grunt she was uncontrollably pushing against the palm of her own hand.

“Nnghhhh— noooo.. don’t c-come o-outtttt…” she growled, her body pushing ferociously and she could feel the head slip forward.

In the shadows Marion grunted and heaved and pushed. Against these efforts she tried to keep her palm over the emerging head to prevent it coming out any further. Her legs were wide and trembling, the heavy mass between her hips forcing her pelvis apart. It was hell, being stuck like this, her labia stretching around the emerging head, the desperate need to get this over with - to deliver this baby. The placement of her own hand proved futile, her body outright refusing to do anything that could delay or prevent the birth. Instead her knees buckled, sinking into a deep squat, and her free hand flew forward to brace her labouring body against the rough bricks of the dark alley while the other hand cupped the head of the incoming babe.

“Ohhhhh fuck…” her groans barely audible, all efforts going into birth. “Oh Gods… help me… it’s coming— it’s coming o-outtt!”

The hand at the apex of her thighs was supporting the head rather than stopping it from coming out. She gasped, sucking in a desperate breath, and leaned into the push giving everything she had into bearing down. She sobbed as the head reached a full crown in her underwear, its large shape undeniable and filling her small palm. The clothing was damp and stretched but she couldn’t remove them, both hands were occupied - one holding her upright in the squat the other holding the emerging head. “Grrnnnhhhhh!!” The low and primal groan of effort rattled the back of her throat and ever so slowly the head was born into her palm.

Smoke was filling the city, homes and shops were on fire, the enemy’s army was tearing her home apart. Loud and sudden blasts echoed down the alleyway, shaking the streets and buildings all around her. Marion fell forward, scrambling on all fours to get away from danger, all the while her baby’s head hung from her body filling her underwear. The rough cobbled street grazed and cut her knees as she crawled further down the side street, desperate to find some shelter. Fluids were leaking from her opening leaving a trail of damp in her wake. She found a door, indented slightly into the brick wall. She tried the handle but it was locked. A cry of fear and frustration left her lungs as she pounded and pushed against the wooden door.

The baby wasn’t waiting for safety or shelter, the next contraction was soon taking hold and she rocked on all fours in the alcove, humming an instinctual noise as the baby’s shoulders started to press against her opening.

“D-don’t…. No….” Marion panted and pleaded with her body.

But her hips sank backwards and she was uncontrollably pushing once more, grunting with every wave as her body worked on expelling the child. “Mnnnghhhhhhh it— it’s coming… I can’t— stop p-p-pushingggggg!!!”

Marion clawed at the door bringing herself up on her knees as the shoulders stretched her opening wide. The baby was waiting for no one and it was coming out right into her underwear. Her fingernails dug deep into the wooden door, her hips sinking towards the floor and she roared with the effort of bearing down, of pushing the baby’s shoulders out of her body. She could feel everything as it slipped out - one shoulder, the next shoulder, its arms and hands and torso as it emerged into her undergarments. Marion managed to prise her hands from the door and scrambled with her clothing to free the path for her baby to enter this world. Pulling the underwear down a few inches she grunted with the desperate final push and the baby suddenly slipped from her body into her hands.

“Ahhh oh Gods… you’re here, you’re out….” Marion gasped, pulling the newborn straight to her chest and sitting back onto her heels. “Hello little one.” The baby shifted and squirmed in her arms and released the softest cry of a first breath.

Exhausted, Marion turned and slumped against the doorway, babe in arms. The sound of crying soon travelled down the side street and footsteps approached. Fear filled Marion’s heart, the enemy was approaching and both she and her baby were defenceless.

“Oh my goodness, is that a baby?” Came a gruff voice above her. She looked up frightened, but when she saw the familiar uniform colour and the warm caramel skin of an Allerian soldier Marion let out a relieved sob.

“Come on Miss, I’ll get you and your baby out of here.” He said kindly.

[frenchkisstheabyss]

7 Psychopaths: Seonghwa

x Summary: You are X, a seasoned assassin, and your boss has just assigned you an unusual task. You have two weeks to gather six men for a top-secret mission that requires their unique brand of psychopathy. The trick is, you've got romantic history with all of them.

A detail that might make this a walk in the park or the fight of your life. Time to find out...

x Pairing: assassin!seonghwa x assassin!chubby!fem!reader

x Genre: angst/crime au/smut

x Word Count: 1.8k-ish

x Warnings: fingering, unprotected sex, some moments of deep/hard sex w/ scratching, sex in the desert cause danger is fun, pet names (baby), Hwa likes to talk dirty, fire, side character death via said fire, blood, teeth pulling w/ pliers, mini-explosion, a punch gets thrown, a lil enemies to lovers, strong language, tried to cover it all but lmk if anything's missing!

x A/N: This is #4 in a series of 6 stories featuring two members from TXT, two from ATEEZ, and two from Stray Kids. They all follow the same theme and can be read chronologically or you can jump around. I support the chaos.

Previous Psychopath: Wooyoung | Next Psychopath: Soobin | OR Start From The Beginning

The average adult has 32 teeth. 28 if they’ve had their wisdom teeth taken out. Seonghwa shoves a pair of pliers into the mouth of the man he has tied up in the trunk of a car, clamping the metal jaws around the first molar on the right side. The man’s screams are agonizing, his wrists and ankles fighting against the frayed rope as the root tears out of place. Seonghwa holds it in the red glow of the taillights, ignoring the blood soaked cries of his present company.

“You really should brush your teeth more'' he frowns, noting the plaque buildup on the bloody tooth before tossing it aside. “Don’t worry though. Once I’m done you won’t have any left to brush.” Seonghwa grabs him by the neck, shoving the pliers into his mouth as a mixture of spit and blood drips down the man’s chin. Gripping the next tooth in line, he rips it out much easier than the last and the screaming continues. 2 down, 30 to go.

If they were somewhere in the city Seonghwa might've done something to quiet him down. Duct tape his mouth shut. Shove a sock in there. But this is the desert, the absolute middle of nowhere, during a time when even the sun has abandoned them. There are no people for miles in either direction and any encounter with the other living creatures that stalk the desert night is sure to end in this man's death. Make no mistake. He will die either way but first, there’s business to attend to.

“You have the misfortune of having a lot of teeth,” Seonghwa grins, waving the pliers around with tooth number 4 wedged between metal, “Fortunately, I don’t have a lot of time so why don’t you tell me what I wanna know and we can go our separate ways.” “You…you’re gonna let me go?” the man blubbers, tears streaming down his cheeks. “Of course, I will.” A lie. “Don’t fuck with me, man!” “I’m not fucking with you.” Another lie. Seonghwa takes a seat on the edge of the open trunk, patting the man on the shoulder like they’re two old friends grabbing a beer. “I’ll let you go. I always keep my word.” The final lie. The biggest lie of them all. 

But it works. In seconds the man confesses to Seonghwa, a sinner in search of forgiveness. He answers every question without pause. Spills the details of who hired him for the job that led to their paths crossing. Hell, he even starts in on his troubled childhood, going on about his mommy issues until Seonghwa can’t stomach his voice anymore. “Alright, well, thanks for that,” Seonghwa sings, hopping up and tossing the pliers into the trunk before walking out of view. “Hey! Where are you going?” the man shouts, wiggling towards the edge of the trunk.

Idling a safe distance away is Seonghwa’s car, soft white headlights illuminating the horizon as classical music flows from the radio almost too lightly to be heard. He pops the trunk, retrieving a 5 gallon gas canister. “Calm down, I’m coming back,” Seonghwa huffs, dragging himself back to the other car. The man’s eyes widen when he sees the canister, what little color is left in his pale skin drains to nothing. “No! You can’t do that! You gave me your word! You’re fucking crazy.”

Seonghwa digs a lighter out of his back pocket, flicking the top off of the canister with his thumb, “I know.”

You awaken from your slumber like a sweet baby angel to the gentle sound of orchestral music. The surface beneath you is the softest you’ve slept on in days and the blanket wrapped around you must be made of some luxurious fur because regular cotton could never feel this lush. You sit up, yawning, eyelashes fluttering, and wait for your vision to adjust. As the sleep wears off you suddenly notice how dry your throat is. Then there’s the pain. You bring your hand up to the side of your neck, touching the tender spot where you were injected with something, and it all comes back to you.

Woo. Seonghwa. They did this. Where are you? The driver’s side door swings open just as the pieces shift back into place. Nearby screams muffled by the crackling of a raging fire draw you in like a moth to a flame. There’s thumping inside the trunk of the other car. You’re too concerned about if you’re next to care who’s in there. “You’re up!” Seonghwa cheers, hopping into the car and turning to check the backseat where you’ve been passed out for hours. “How’s it going, baby?” “‘Baby’, my ass!” you shout, punching him in the face. You hate to hit something so pretty but he deserved it.

“You fucking drugged me!” Seonghwa holds his nose, tapping his foot to distract from the pain, “I did it for your own good.” “For my own good? You set me up. Where’s Woo? Son of a bitch.” Blinded by your anger, you storm out of the car, charging barefoot through the desert with the blanket still around you. Seonghwa chases after you, his head tilted back to avoid a nosebleed, “You can’t just walk around out here. You’re gonna get hurt!” “I’ll get hurt?” you scoff, turning back to launch another hit in his direction.

Seonghwa grabs you by the wrist, bringing an arm around your waist to hold you to him, “Look at me and tell me you think I’d ever bring harm to you.” The aching in your neck tells you not to trust him again but your heart won’t let you forget your shared history. All of the times he’s put his life on the line to protect you before. Whatever he’s done, there must be a reason. It better be a good one. Seonghwa lets out a sigh of relief as he senses your body has begun to relax. The fire behind him has doubled in size, making it impossible to ignore.

“Who’s in the trunk?” you ask, kissing the bridge of his nose right where your punch landed. It takes everything in him not to blush. “Someone that did want to hurt you but don’t worry. I hurt him first.” “What did he want with me?” “You’re joking, right?” he laughs, “There’s a trail of corpses behind you in the name of a mission no one knows anything about. They’re coming for you. You have to stop.” This was bound to happen. An occupational hazard. When you run around fucking shit up you draw attention to yourself and it’s never the good kind.

This is the life you signed up for though. Turning back isn’t an option. “You know I can’t do that.” “Yes you can,” he says, the pain in his voice undeniable, “I’ll keep them off of you as long as I can but once they get to me—” You kiss him, letting the blanket fall to your feet as you cup his face. “Don’t talk like that, Hwa. I won’t let them touch you. I promise.” The kiss heats up rapidly. The knowledge that you still care for each other deeply drives you into a breathless frenzy.

You tear at each other’s clothes. His hands traverse your curves, massaging your ass and thighs. Your stomach. Your breasts. Your everything. Before you know it you’re laid out over the pile of clothes, his tongue rolling across your nipple as he parts your thighs to stroke your pussy. Your throat might be dry but your pussy’s delectably wet. Seonghwa dips a finger into you, humming against a mouthful of your breast as he taps his thumb at your clit. The finger inside of you curls in just the right way to make your hips stutter.

“Mmm, is my girl ready for another one?” You shake your head, nails raking up and down his back, “Two. I want two more.” “Anything for you” he smiles, feeding his fingers into you one by one. He moves his wrist in slow circles, giving you that satisfying fullness in your belly, all the while stretching you in preparation for the cock he can tell you want so badly. You reach down to stroke his length and it jumps for you like an overexcited puppy happy to see its owner. You are its owner. No amount of time apart will change that. You’re the only woman who's ever been able to get him hard as steel and you know it.

“No more fingers. I want you to fill me up” you whisper, tugging at his hair. Seonghwa picks up the pace, fingering you faster just to hear you scream his name. Your hips raise off of the ground, walls locked around his fingers. He wiggles them free, using the hand dripping with your arousal to stroke himself as he aligns with your entrance. He comes up to kiss you, pushing into you until he bottoms out, turning you into a giggling mess.

Watching you has him falling in love all over again. “Fuck, I love it when you’re like this,” he says, lifting one of your legs up and pounding into you. Each thrust is so perfectly angled to please you that you can't even steady your hands enough to touch him. In fact, nothing about you is steady. Your entire body reacts to his, obeying commands without a word spoken. “Ooh, your little pussy’s pulsing. Ready to cum for me already?” he teases, bouncing you on his cock. “Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes…” your voice trails off, nails digging deeper into his shoulders as you crack under pressure.

Seonghwa pins you down harder, slowing down to feel every moment of your release. He may have his sadistic side but his heart never softens more than when he sees you happy. And knowing that he’s the reason why? It gets him every time. He cuddles you as you come down, only peeling his body away from yours when the sudden combustion of a gas tank startles the two of you. “Aww, isn’t that romantic?” he beams. “Romantic?” “Like fireworks.” You roll your eyes, scooching over to lay your head on his chest, “Sure. Let’s go with that.”

Despite the circumstances, laying here with him is the most peaceful night you’ve had since this all began. It feels almost normal enough to pretend you don't have the weight of the world on your shoulders. Seonghwa disrupts the delusion. Someone has to do it. “Nothing I say will make you back out of this mission, will it?” You sigh, drawing hearts in the sweat that slicks his chest, “No. I have to do this, with or without you and Woo, but I’d prefer with.” Seonghwa hugs you, kissing you on the forehead, “Then ‘with’ it is.”

[robinette-green]

Robin's Mer DCA Romance Fics

These are fics I’ve started that involve Mermaids and aquatic life!

Unbreakable Chains:

You’re a mermaid captured by pirates. Scared and injured, two strange metal men care for you while you’re trapped in this scary place and slowly an unbreakable bond is formed between the three of you. ________________ Wind and rain pelted down on the ship as the men scrambled to lift their catch from the water. The waves rolled, tossing the ship back and forth, slamming water down onto the decks as ropes were pulled and the net was lifted from the water. A screech rang out over the waves as something much larger than your average fish was raised from the black depths. Lighting forked across the sky, illuminating sharp teeth and claws as the beast fought to free itself. The shout of pain, as claws met flesh, was drowned out by the rumble of thunder, but the sharp crack from the pistol rang clear across the water, followed by a scream. Another shot and cry of pain, and the men were finally able to lower the beast into the belly of the ship. 

Caught in a Fish's Net: (tag)

what if I wrote a story where a human is kidnapped by mermaids. And they were forced to marry two mer princes because of a prophecy that said if the princes married a human they would be able to end the plague killing their people. But the marriage seems to do nothing and now the human is trapped deep in the ocean with these mer because mer bond for life and now magic ties them together so if they’re apart for too long they’ll grow sick and die. OH! And there’s a sea witch who creates chaos. The sky had been cloudless when we'd set out this morning. The sun shone in the sky, causing sparkles to ripple across the waves as my father and I set out to sea in our small fishing boat. We cast out the nets and had a good laugh as we waited to pull them back in, Father at the rudder and me by the tethers we'd connected the nets to. Neither of us noticed how still the water had gotten. Neither of us saw the shadows below the surface. 

Bubbly:

A little waterlily mer guppy is trapped, home destroyed, and taken to a pet store to be sold. After spending some time living in a fish bowl, our little guppy is saved and moved to a tank that has been dubbed the daycare by the human tending to it. The daycare tank is set up to rehabilitate fish before they are released back into their natural habitats. There our guppy meets Sun and Moon, two fish that live full time in this tank taking care their healing guests. Sun and Moon and our guppy fall in love and then shit goes down.

Fish Fry: (tag)

Pulled from the sea 5 years ago, I was tied up, beaten, and sold to owner after owner, each deciding I was too dangerous to keep. Back then, I was strong, able to break bones and tear flesh with ease, singing to lure humans to their demise. It's what my kind was made to do, kill humans. But no more. Kept in increasingly small tanks, barely fed, and unable to swim, I started to weaken. Eventually, I was dumped here. It was some kind of oddities collection. My owner had other humans pay to look at his strange assortment of items he had gathered from around the world. Then one day I encountered two strange humanoid creatures that resembled the Sun and the Moon and my life started to change for the better.

Monster in the Sea:

Sun and Moon are human and go by Solaris and Lucien. The MC is a water dragon. Water dragon reader finds Sun and Moon lost at sea during a storm

Dark Waters:

When your parents died all their debt fell on your shoulders. You did everything you could but in the end, you were penniless and without a home. Reaching out to what relatives you had left, your uncle offered you a place, living and working at his little circus in the middle of the desert. It wasn't long after you moved into this little community that you found a strange abandoned tent hidden at the back of the grounds, a large tank inside. Posted just outside was a sign that read 'DANGER! KEEP OUT!' If you had headed the warning maybe you wouldn't be in this predicament but you also wouldn't have met the two most amazing creatures you have ever laid your eyes on.

Fishy Business: (tag)

Attacked and almost killed, I manage to escape my attackers and hide in a cave only to be found by something... not quite human. Too weak to get away and with the beasts that wanted to eat me waiting outside, this non-human kidnaps me, taking me to his ship. This is where I find that there are not one but two of these metal creatures. A story where the main character is a mermaid and is rescued/kidnapped by Sun and Moon

Some of these won't be finished and some are OLD writing of mine. you have been warned. Please don't let that stop you from reading these and enjoying them <3

[leafsbabe]

sundress season with Matthew

- vacations with Matthew were always fun especially since he actually wanted to go out and do things instead of just sitting by the pool all day

- but sometimes pool days were just needed

- especially in the heat

- somehow Matthew managed to behave all day

- only playing with the strings of your bikini top a little and palming your ass when you joined him in the nice cool water

- part of you wanted to untie it entirely, fling the tiny pieces of fabric out of the pool and have Matthew deal with it

- or even better, just forbid him from touching you entirely until he broke

- but it was too hot to really think about teasing him

- by the time the evening rolled around things had cooled down a little and the two of you planned on going to a restaurant in town that had been recommended to you by a couple you had met the day before

- the only problem was your dress

- it had looked so cute on the model online but it was impossible to get on

- after getting your hand stuck in the ties at the back of it for the second time you gave up and called for Matthew to come rescue you

- except your knight in shining sunburn didn't come and free you

- no

- he just stood and stared until he managed to snap out of it and came closer

- Matthew was in the middle of doing up the back for you when he finally managed to find his words again

- "that's a pretty dress" he said lowly, bending down to press a kiss again your bare shoulder

- "a pretty dress for a pretty girl" you told him

- Matthew hummed in agreement, his mouth traveling from your shoulders your neck, his stubble tickling your skin along the way

- "it's a little short don’t you think?”

- it wasn't malicious or possessive, his tone was teasing and playful so you played into it

- "it's too hot for real clothes."

- Matthew finished tying your dress, resting his hand on your exposed back

- “that why the back of it is missing?"

- his fingers stroked over the part of your back that would normally be covered by the clasp of a bra

- Matthew didn’t comment on it but you knew what he was thinking

- turning around in his arms you stood on your tiptoes and pressed a kiss against his lips

- "you ready to go?"

- the food at the restaurant was absolutely delicious and their portion sizes were just the right size to fill you up enough that you felt okay skipped desert without feeling stuffed

- the walk back to your villa was even nicer

- with the cooling air, the scent of blooming flowers, and the screaming insects you always found yourself missing once you returned back home it was a lovely evening

- something as small as taking a stroll back to your rental, full and sated from dinner and a little tired from doing nothing all day, felt so special with Matthew by your side

- but you noticed that he wasn't directly beside you, rather opting to walk a few steps behind

- when you asked him why, his only response was "enjoying the view”

- thankfully by the time you reached the villa he had grown tired of watching

- Matthew crowded you against the front door, caging you in his arms as he reached around you to unlock it and savored the feeling of his strong chest against your back

- once the door was open you managed to get a headstart of maybe three steps before he pounced, catching up and all but dragging you towards the bedroom

- turns out the dress was just as complicated to take off as it was to put on

- not that Matthew minded pushing the short flowy skirt up towards your hips and watching it bounce with every deep thrust into you

[needfantasticstories]

Blood and Blade, Chapter 10: Desert Ruby

by SkipBreaker (aka needfantasticstories)

Summary:

Legend gets to meet the Gerudo of Wild's era. (Fun fact! So far, in his games, Legend has never met Gerudo people besides Ganondorf and Twinrova!) This should be fun, right?   THANK YOU CHEETO!!!!!!! THE Beta ever!!!!!!! Crack TW: very relatable technology issues. (Qar, Riju would punch the screen.) Real TW: discussions of gender and sexism, some descriptions of arrow-wound care on a child

Desert Ruby 

Deep sand dunes clawed at Legend’s Pegasus boots, slowing him. Waning afternoon sunlight baked his hands and face, yet the veteran forged on with a vengeance across the scorching grains. The breeze created from his reckless forward run helped soothe only some of the desert’s blistering heat. He hoped it was enough for the girl; he could worry about healing his own sunburns later.

The scorching sun inched lower behind him, still hours short of sunset.

Through dancing vapors of heat, the city walls drew nearer. A humble, arched gate on the western wall greeted him. Unseen streams whispered somewhere nearby, cooling the air around the city.  Within the archway, sparkling cool blue and green tiles decorated the walls and small pools of water. 

Legend sighed in relief. Wild spoke highly of his Gerudo, especially compared to the Gerudo tribe of Time’s stories, who seemed to hate Hylians. Legend waved to the guards and hurried to pass through.  a request for aid on the tip of his tongue. Instead, he froze when the towering women shoved speartips against his chest.

“Wha–”

“No voe allowed!” snarled a veiled guard. If the blademasters were “strong” then these women were the equivalent of bipedal chain-chomps. Muscled arms flexed, and their boulder-firm stances left no question as to their capabilities. The guard on the left glared, and her drawn brows twitched as if she itched for him to give her any reason to run him through. 

He glared back at her, and resisted the urge to leap over the gate. Fresh off multiple fights for his life, what was one more, if it came to it… but what then? Jostle the girl further in a mad dash with no destination? Delay getting her aid? He could not solve this with a fight. 

‘Smile, and assume incompetence over malice,’ Zelda would remind him in moments like this, on those rare occasions she’d tasked him to guard her throughout tense diplomatic meetings. 

He could do this. This was simply a puzzle, not a fight.   

Legend took a slow step back and turned to reveal the child’s face and her injuries, her breath shallow and labored on his ear. 

Their horrified gasps would have been satisfying if not for the girl’s groan at the sudden motion. 

“Wait here until I call the healers.” The guard lowered her spear by mere inches and blew a tiny whistle with three long calls.  

At last, she lowered her weapon and the guards helped him ease the child atop a blanket one of them produced. Legend stepped back and let his legs collapse. He knelt in the sand a moment, watching them carefully ease the girl to rest on her side. The arrow wounds looked more shallow than he’d first feared, at least—none of them shot at close range thanks to their wild descent—but it was little consolation when he could see her bleeding and shivering. 

“Here. Healing potion,” Legend staggered to his feet and poured some on his blistered hand for them to see. He knew his era’s potions looked different than Wild’s. The healer snatched it as soon as the wound faded. 

Legend watched, unable to help further but unwilling to look away as each arrow came free. Instead, the veteran fisted the dense weave of his tunic as she bit down her pain. He could have done more. 

She took it all with a courage he admired. And, she was right. Gerudo were tough .  

At last, the red-tipped arrows lay discarded on the ground beside the empty bottle of healing potion. Legend rested again in the sand just outside the gate, watching the little girl breathe  deeply in her sleep, safe in the shade.  

One of the guards turned to him with a softened expression. Not a smile, but not aggressive. “Thank you, young voe, for rescuing her. Buliara has been frantic over her disappearance,” she said with a sad shake of her head, “She’s very close to her nieces. I’m sorry we can’t allow you inside, or I’d buy you a drink myself.” She leaned closer. “Although,” she whispered, “You could do what another voe warrior does and buy a convincing vai set. Not many voe can pull it off, but I suspect you could do better than most, especially with that pink in your hair.”

Voe. That word again. 

Oh .

A man. 

He had found an entire civilization that hated him, helping the little girl notwithstanding. Legend regretted not grilling Wild about his era as soon as they’d come. He couldn’t even restock here, couldn't rest, might as well move on. Legend looked back at the wavering ocean of sand waiting for him to search. But where? Not back to the Yiga base. To Hyrule castle, perhaps, to find Wild’s Zelda? To Wild’s house in Hateno, the only place they’d spend time in their short visit before? Legend had no map, and such a lush village as Hateno must be hundreds of miles away. 

The guards looked relieved when he asked for directions to both the castle and Hateno. 

The guard who answered, one with short hair who wore it loose, pointed towards the far side of town. “There’s an oasis a few hours ahead where you can resupply, then a Hylian-run stable at the mouth of the canyon. Follow the canyon for a few days, cross Digdogg Bridge, on your first left is another stable. Return to the road going east, then beyond the coliseum ruins–”

Colosseum ruins… Legend’s heart sank at the words. 

“Take the road north. You will see the castle. For Hateno, stay on the path instead of going north. You will find stables to rest in  along the way. It’s a two week journey, at least, for most travelers. Best of luck.” 

Legend saw a pair of green eyes staring at him. The girl rested, perfectly still, as her caregivers whispered above her. He waved a small goodbye. She lifted two fingers in answer. 

“Yari!” A booming voice called from within the walls, and Legend stared as a massive Gerudo warrior collapsed at the girl’s side, her spear clattering on the packed earth. She wrapped the girl in a bear hug that might have killed the poor child if she hadn’t been healed first.

She would be just fine. A smile tugged at Legend’s mouth, though accompanied by a pang of jealousy. He missed his own brothers, and especially Hyrule, and the certainty of knowing they were all okay. 

“I’m glad I got to see that, at least,” Legend told the guard as he took his leave. 

She smiled as she waved. 

Hot wind blew sand across the barren path ahead. He took one uncertain step. Two steps into the arid desert, the first steps of his next journey, and paused. 

It felt more than lonely, without the girl on his back or brothers at his side or even his fairy companion from years ago. It felt more than daunting, with his skin already pink from the burning sun. It simply felt… empty. 

“Buliara, that voe is the one who brought Yari back.” Called the guard he’d just said goodbye to.

“You!” the newcomer, Buliara, barked at him from the entrance. “Young voe! Explain.” 

Legend slowly pivoted, hoping he would see someone who could help rather than hinder his quest. He took in her stern expression, and her rosy floral silks clasped in place with golden plates of armor, royaly jeweled. Legend wondered, if he faced her in the fighting colosseum, if he could even win.  

Buliara eyed him skeptically in return. “What were you doing inside the Yiga base? How did you find her?” 

To his own surprise, he rather liked this woman’s simmering rage; it was refreshing, somehow, and it matched his own. And, despite her people’s appalling sexism, she knew Wild’s world far better than he did. Honesty, it is , he decided.

“The Yiga ambushed my brothers and I, along with some demon, those bastards–” He was surprised at the slight wince the guards gave. Then again, with that much jewelry, Buliara could actually be royalty. Court voice , he decided. He explained, much more formally this time, the basics of the ambush that morning. “We reappeared deep within a cave complex in the canyon in that direction. Unfortunately, the demon did not appear there, the one who took my brother. I thought he was in the caves too, but I searched the whole complex, and even the Yiga did not know where they’d gone. I found Yari in the dungeon, and we made our escape together.” He paused to sip from his waterskin, at long last. It gave the guards a chance to whisper back and forth as he washed hot grit from his throat. “Now,” he added, “I still need to find my brother, wherever the demon took him, and return to our companions.”

“You say the Yiga are in league with a… demon?” Buliara scowled, and for the life of him Legend could not discern what it meant. But every guard and nosy civilian gathering near the gates to watch the commotion had also flinched at the word as she said it.

“Yes. Tall, thin, white hair and clothes. Do you know anything about demons, or where to find them?”

“We are no demon tribe!” One of the guards glared at Legend. “Have you come here to brazenly insult us with old prejudices?” 

“No!” Buliara cut her off, stepping between them. “I believe they are earnest, and clearly a stranger to our history and our culture,” She eyed his clothes with something akin to amusement. Legend stood a bit taller. She nodded with something like approval, some decision reached. “The increasing brazenness of the Yiga clan may be explained by what he has seen; if there is such a monster among them, we must know. I will take you to our Chief. She should hear of this.” Buliara beckoned him to follow, and in one graceful motion she hoisted her sleeping niece into her arms like she weighed no more than a rabbit. Yari settled back to sleep almost instantly.

Legend hesitated, eyeing the guards. “As much as I’d like to brag that I got invited to your super-exclusive city, I really need to get back to my brothers. Do you know a man named Link?”

“Ah! The one with the vai clothes!” the guard whispered to her companion, much too loudly. 

So, that’s what those silks were for? Wild wore them to get in? Legend suppressed a laugh. “I need to tell Link where I am. Do you have a way to contact that slate device he uses?”

“You know him, and the Sheikah slate?” Buliara considered him anew. “Lady Riju might know a way to contact him. You get to enter our exclusive city after all.” Buliara rolled her eyes, “Now put on decent clothes, for Nabooru’s sake. That dress is too thick for our sun, and we can’t let our citizens see a voe within the gates. Here. change quickly.” And she handed him a handful of soft fabric from her pouch. Like his own pouch, it was small but carried far more than its size implied. 

“Uh, am I supposed to change here?”

She pointed to a gap behind some crates just inside the gates, and joined the other guards in shooing away the chittering crowd and telling them he was, in fact, a vai in disguise. Yari remained fast asleep on her shoulder. 

Legend palmed the soft clothing she offered and walked behind the crates, and carefully examined each piece. 

He took out his rok cape, briefly entertaining the idea of climbing a wall and soaring with the magical item to the palace without the grumpy soldiers hovering, but he did not particularly want to get on her bad side. He changed quickly, missing his skirt until he slipped into the silk pants, shimmying into the top and instantly feeling cool relief from the heat. 

They felt… nice , he admitted in the privacy of his mind. I’m keeping these . 

Buliara pointed to the gate, now cleared of spectators. “This way.” 

Legend was never one to commit halfway. He swayed a little as he walked, trying to copy the sea-like gait of the vai filling the narrow street. If he was going to do this, he’d do it right , Hylia damn him. 

Passing through alleys, all tiled in colorful mosaic designs, they soon entered a large plaza.

Canvas-covered shops lined the adobe town square, and shopkeepers reclined on rich carpets in the shade behind unfamiliar wares. They didn’t bother shouting, there were customers aplenty, Gerudo and Hylian and bird-like creatures and gorons all milling around curiously. The sun had a smothering effect, even in the cooling silks. This market would be a tough place for a thief to steal, so spread out were the stalls, and with so many eyes on one another’s customers. 

Behind the shops, soft susurrations promised more waterways running somewhere behind the low walls, and cool air drifted into the plaza from above. Or he thought, until they passed water streaming from atop the wall itself into a mosaic-lined pool, the water diverted underground, but so close below he could still hear it as they entered the main plaza. 

The central walkway to the palace was flanked by palm trees, and the water was exposed again between the walkways, joined by two wide waterfalls flowing down blue-tiled steps, all leading up to the adobe palace and its towering crown of stone pillars, bulbous at the top. A shimmering cascade flowed down like a divine gift from the sun goddess itself. Perhaps it was. Hylia was a strange goddess.

Sellers and Gerudo customers called familiar greetings to Buliara as they aimed for the palace steps. Curious eyes turned to him with open curiosity. Legend reflexively covered the scars of the trident on his chest and stared at the shimmering pools of water to keep himself from glaring back at their shameless gawking. 

Stepping into the shade at the top of the palace steps, Legend finally sighed in relief, free of the sun and stares and the exhausting performance of walking in the awkward, foot-tilting shoes he’d only seen women of the court don for galas and balls. He missed his boots. 

The little girl stirred in Buliara’s arms, and she whispered quiet greetings and comforts to the girl and held her closer. The girl settled, and watched Legend through heavily lidded eyes as they entered the Palace. Her gaze moved to his hair. She seemed uncertain. Legend resisted the urge to look around the opulent palace and waved at her instead. She smiled back at him, and closed her eyes.

“You found her!” Came a young woman’s voice, older than Yari’s but far higher than any of the guards. Legend begged his eyes to adjust faster. 

Buliara dropped to one knee—spear braced in one hand and little Yari snuggled in the other—and bowed with only her knees. “Chief Riju, my niece is safely returned, and I present to you her rescuer.”

The tall throne, carved in ancient script like a monument, was fitted with a sort of wooden booster seat and small steps to accommodate the girl sitting in it. She lifted her gaze from some papers in one hand, her radiant gold headpiece–that looked much too large for her head—wobbling as she looked up. 

“Praise all the sacred mothers!” The bejeweled girl looked relieved to see the child resting in Buliara’s arms. She faced Legend. “And who is our brave heroine?”

“Forgive me, Chief Riju, but I will personally vouch for this particular voe.”

“Oh!” The Chief gasped, and she laughed, light and airy, like the way Zeldas sometimes did when her courtly mask slipped. Several nagging worries evaporated with the sound. Riju straightened her headpiece from where it had fallen forward a little. “Well, she’s—I mean he’s not the only one, is he?” 

Chief Riju slid off the throne and examined his eyes as she approached, as if trying to see the clues to some mystery. Her smile was open and unguarded, and refreshing. She reached for his hands and he readily offered them. She smiled even wider at his compliance, and held his hands earnestly as she spoke. “Thank you, young voe! Buliara has been inconsolable. She had all the troops gathered when the news of your arrival came. Please accept this in thanks.” 

She pressed into his hand something heavy and warm. He knew better than to refuse a gift, so he bowed in thanks and peeked at it before stowing it subtly away: it was the warmest, heaviest ruby he’d ever seen, a gem that would have Ravio begging to buy it for crafting some new magic item… if he ever found out about it. 

When he looked up again, Chief Riju was still staring. The chief blushed as she seemed to realize it herself. “Please forgive me, but you look so much like a very dear friend.”

“You mean Link, right? Hero of the Wilds?”

Riju’s open smile snapped into a frown. “You know him?”

“We were traveling together. He’s probably looking for me, and our brother.”

“I would like to know how you came to know Link, and of the Sheikah slate he carries.” Buliara asked, failing at keeping her tone neutral. 

Their guards were up again. With enemies like the Yiga and that pale demon, Legend didn’t blame their suspicions. He knew the risks of shapeshifters and possessing spirits all too well. 

Buliara did not wait for an explanation. “Chief Riju, I brought him here to his tale of encountering the Yiga, and his rescue of Yari, and his journey with our mutual friend. But he also claims to have seen–” Buliara paused and whispered it in Riju’s ear.

“What? What sort of… As in the ancient… does Link know?”

“We should listen to his report.”

They both turned to him.

“Please, share your tale.”

“It’s… it’s a bit hard to believe, but…” Hylia, where to start? “Are you very familiar with portals that can move you, not to different places, but to different times ?” 

An uncomfortable silence fell as Riju blanched. “Yes.”

Legend began alowl, awkwardly, as awkward as the day he first stumbled through a portal and his confusing meeting with Hyrule and the black eye the traveler gave him. But as he spoke the story wove itself more easily: meeting the others, the sha-shifting creatures of dark magic and the monsters it infected, the ambush, the teacher and the mage, finding Yari, their escape, and finall to the moment he arrived at their gate.

The only interruption was when he shared their nickname for Wild.

Buliara laughed, “That’s quite fitting. He smells like a wet dog and muddy leaves most days, especially when he’s been around his wolf.”

Legend stored that intriguing comment to ask Wild and Twilight about later.  

A long silence followed the end of his tale. 

“Wait here,” Riju ordered, and she marched past her throne, and disappeared behind it. From behind the monument of a seat came a cacophony of thumps and bumps and clacks, of some jumble of items being pulled around.

“Chief Riju, please be careful!” Buliara hissed, trying not to wake her stirring niece.“Purah has yet to repair it.” 

Riju ignored her. 

Legend waited with growing dread, fingers itching to reach for his pack in case things went… well, as they often did: sideways. Had he said something to make them think he was secretly an enemy? Why was the Chief so upset about time-travel? He ran through all his words, but exhaustion had long since taken the edge off his mind. He sat, and drew slow, calming breaths. Nothing was wrong, not yet . Wild trusted them, and though their auras were not overwhelming like the mage, he could still feel them, fresh but strong like rainstorms. 

Riju emerged at last. Her arms overflowed with a tangle of wires and cords, small stones and crystals and metal coils. Screws dropped from the mass as Riju moved. “She said it could still connect to the Princess’s, so I’ll risk it.” Riju answered her guard, dropping the bundle on her booster-throne. “We don’t have the technology or spells for time-travel,” And she mumbled, “Not in this version of our history.” And she stopped, sighed deeply, and continued louder, “However, we can travel and contact each other across great distances, thanks to the Sheikah technology the princess and Link have rediscovered.” The young chief pulled out what looked like a slimmer version of Wild’s fromslate amid the nest of cords. She studied it, her nose wrinkled in deep concentration, scanning the slate with uncertainty, and finally she pressed something on it. 

“Your majesty, wait!” Buliara yelled, momentarily distracted by setting down her niece, but too late. A jolt of blue light pulsed from the crystals and stones, along the wires and cords, and promptly faded before reaching the slate itself. 

Riju frowned, and Buliara sighed in relief. Whatever it was, it hadn’t worked. 

“Oh, by all the mothers!” Riju grumbled, and held up the slate in one hand. With the other hand raised in an elegant pinch, she snapped . 

OceanThunderHyruleWhere!? Legend’s mind scrambled for understanding as light consumed his vision.  

When color at last bled into view again, Riju stood with the slate glowing softly in her hands, the wires and stones dangling from it pulsing steadily with a now-familiar blue glow. 

“R… ch… Rij—” A crackled voice spoke from the stone. “Chief Riju, is that–worki—gain?”

“Princess!” the girl shouted. “Princess, I have found someone you should meet! He says he knows Link!”

“l—be there as soo—ake care of—oon–here me? –e on our way there,” a barely intelligible chorus of voices crackled in reply from the various stones.  

“I do hope that means they’re coming,” Riju furrowed her brow, but the optimistic smile at the corner of her mouth never dissipated. 

Hylia, why does she remind me so much of Hyrule? And the princess was coming? Legend could have cried in relief. She’d have answers. They always did.

As guards marched out to meet the Princess, and attendants brought refreshments, the trio waited on a collection of plush cushions and carpets set to one side of the court. Legend made use of the damp towels provided to wipe his face as the late afternoon sun peeked below the window tops, inescapable.

[justbelievinginmagic]

what skz looks like in ariadne's thread!

hello! thought id share my lil breakdowns and inspo photos for the skz boyz in ariadne's thread. i will continue to add to this as we go through the story and introduce more of the boys! some of these will contain spoilers to the fic so i recommend reading it beforehand... -> series masterlist

Hyunjin, the Goblin King. Described as a honeyed blonde with blue eyes that seem to have hurricanes and storms trapped within them. Has been compared to Renaissance marble statues & paintings with how inhumanly beautiful he is and how his eyes seem to be a kind of wrathful beautiful. Wears dark leather and lace, many layered gold necklaces, and cloaks/capes! Later, will appear in sheer white loose tunics and black slacks, and then only white attire. Able to manipulate time and reality, as well as see into the future. Considered one of most powerful of faes - a High Fae with some Gancanagh-blood.

Jisung, the Goblin-Fae. Described as having oil-slick black-blue curly hair with big jewel-toned eyes that shift from more blue or more purple. Wears old and worn clothes that have been hand sewn with alterations - a brown vest, a white flowing tunic with the big sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and brown pants. Is decorated with many necklaces on his neck and rings on his fingers, a collection of jewels that he keeps tied to his cinched-belted waist alongside a beautiful dagger and various other knick-knacks he’s collected in the Desert Sea. Cannot utilize any magic but was trained with a dagger. Considered Goblin-Fae despite having some Dragon-blood tendencies such as hoarding and treasure-hunting.

Chris, the Beast-Hunter. Described as a floofy brunette with natural curls and dark grey eyes that mimic stone sometimes. Large curling horns, like a ram's. Decorated in scars of all sorts; he has prominent scars and cuts across the bridge of his large nose, his back, and his torso. Is shirtless, but is adorned in many iron-shackles across his body – one around his thick throat, both of his wrists and his waist. Later, dons a fur-cloak of a beast that was taken from him while he was a prisoner - which he wears across his broad shoulders with pride. Is exceptionally strong, dedicated, and is able to manipulate anything made of earth with enough concentration. Troll-Fae.

Felix, the Gancanagh. Described as having long warm-blonde hair that moves in a non-existent wind with deep-brown eyes that seem to swirl into a rose-pink the longer you stare into them. His cheeks are dusted with golden freckles that sparkle in the light. Dressed in in a billowing white tunic that reveals too much of his chest and abs, his pants are leathered and slung low on him, revealing his prominent hip bones. His form is every changing and shifting as he finds suitable visages to mimic to tempt humans; it’s possible this form was just the most appealing one to Y/N since in some moments he almost looks like Hyunjin except softer. Later, his hair fades to an oil-slick blue as well. As a Gancanagh, he is addictive to mortals with only a single touch. Has seductive charms, luring pheromones, and a hypnotizing gaze. Enjoys winning more than the chase. Can steal mortal faces and shapeshift. Gancanagh-Fae.

Minho, the Sluagh. Described as having dark-brown hair that looks like the fur of a beast and piercing glowing aquamarine-blue eyes that gleam like an animal’s. Entire form is decorated in tattoos of the creatures within his soul; prominently, the face of a wolf is on his left hand. The wolf tattoo shares a glowing blue eye like Minho. These tattoos feel alive as they shift across his skin. Has many animal cuts and claw marks across his body from battles or challenges for dominance (which he has won.) Draped in bear-like furs that seem to meld into his form when he transforms into a beast. Has Wild Magic in his veins and can shift into creatures of all sorts but favors monstrous-versions of large bison-like direwolves. Fought to earn the title of Sluagh of the Direwoods and is the only one able to call upon the Wild Hunt. Embodies the Wild Hunt until his death and the Wild Magic passes onto the new Sluagh.

Seungmin, the Boggart. Described as having pitch black hair and dark as night eyes that sparkled like stars were trapped in them. A cloak of shadows curl around his shoulders and fall to the floor. This darkness follows him, clouding him as if he’d be consumed by the bubble of shadows around him; sometimes, one can see shadowed limbs clawing and grasping at him or clinging to his black silk shirt. Unlike the others, he seems to float and has no visible feet or footsteps. Can utilize shadows as a mean of transportation and as extensions of himself. Attracts death, causes death via the strings of fate, and can mark someone for death. Death-Fae.

TBA ; last updated 6/5/24

[iorekbyrinson]

thoughts on bcs characters and their pullman-universe daemons

James McGill - Weasel or stoat family. The long sleek shape of the mustelid can squirm through any hole after its quarry, taking down prey several times its size. Folklore associations with being untrustworthy, unscrupulous, despite its diminutive size. Also known as the family from which Pantalaimon, daemon of Lyra Silvertongue, heralds from - associations of the protagonist.

Kim Wexler - Jackal. A desert animal with associations of the howling prairies, independence, a looming threat in a familiar canid form. However, jackals have a little known quality of centring the majority of their social behaviour around a monogamous relationship; marking out territory together, forsaking packs mostly for the pair bond. Cunning, determined, opportunistic.

Chuck McGill - Porcupine. Like all Rodentia, porcupines are intelligent and frugal, not carnivorous by nature but certainly with enough natural advantages. Unusual tree-dwellers that live far above the rest of the creatures on the forest floor, the porcupine's most notorious trait are its barbs, shaped so that they stick in the skin and cannot be pulled out.

Howard Hamlin - Golden retriever. Exactly what it appears to be to a fault, the ubiquitously loved animal has a few significant traits; it is above all a retriever, an animal that works in tandem with a master to seek out prey and skilfully return the prize, and any attempts to isolate this intensely social breed go awry - the animal withers away.

Nacho Varga - Rusty-spotted cat. The smallest wildcat in the world, to mistake this feline for its domesticated counterpart is a mistake; it is a predator of its lands, feeding on rodents and any creature beneath it, and has the hallmark of being one of the most successful predators relative to its size in the world. However, this elusive, nocturnal little wildcat has its weaknesses as a daemon; it will not stop until it is at the top of its food chain, even if it exists in an ecosystem where it will be swallowed alive. It has the typical feline traits of aloofness, independence, and particularly beautiful eyes.

Lalo Salamanca - Vampire bat. Largely associated with the handsome, deadly supernatural creatures of mythology, vampire bats do, in truth, hold blood as the superior tonic above all, and are also vastly social creatures; grooming, feeding, and raising families within a group that has strong ties to family members, but also makes room for non-relatives too. They hunt entirely in the dark. Like most of the bat family, their need to communicate means their high pitched chirps are constant when flying through the night sky. An unusual daemon for an unusual man; be watchful of his reflection in mirrors. It may not always be there.

Gus Fring - Coati. A daemon can sometimes settle in the appearance of an animal of meaning to an individual; and the mercurial and mysterious Gustavo Fring has inferred the coati's importance as much in his fateful recollection. However, the coati is also no insignificant animal; it is preyed upon by nearly every major predator in the Americas, but the coati has a tough hide attached to its underlying muscles, making it extremely difficult for teeth to get a hold. It is a contained and somewhat elegant looking small mammal with a handsome pair of spectacles around its dark, round eyes, and a reputation for intelligence rivalling that of its opportunistic cousin, the raccoon.

Mike Ehrmantraut - Badger. Whether of the European badger flavour; forest-bears of quiet and solitary pursuits, devoted to the burrows of their families, or of the American type, the fearsome ratel or honey badgers that face down mountain lions without a second look, badger daemons carry the traits of strength, perseverance, and an undeniable aggression that make them the animal that never backs down. Badgers construct setts that go deep below the earth, a vast underground system of resources that belies the staid, unemotional appearance of these creatures. Man + mountain indeed.

[and-loth-cat]

A Dyad in the Force (Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader) - Chapter 1

~Chapter 1~

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away...

The engines roared as the Nubian Royal Starship flew across the stars. They were rapidly approaching a large, desert planet, one that laid far beyond the outskirts of the Trade Federation.

"That's it. Tatooine... there's a settlement," The young man with the long braid said, looking out at the planet they were approaching. He was dressed in tan robes, with a brown cloak around his body. The rest of his hair was tied back into a ponytail, resting on the back of his head.

A taller, older man with long brown hair looked at the boy, speaking in a low, coarse voice, "Land near the outskirts. We don't want to attract attention."

The ship slowly entered the planet's atmosphere, proceeding to make its landing in the desert. As the ship steadily landed on the sand and the engines' roars died out, the young man suddenly felt something, as if an invisible force was tugging from inside of him. Just as he was about to question it, the door suddenly opened and the older man, Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn, walked into the room. He quickly dismissed his thoughts and looked up at Qui-Gon, "The hyperdrive generator's gone, Master," the young padawan, or Obi-Wan, spoke, "We'll need a new one."

Qui-Gon let out a soft sigh, "That'll complicate things," he looked in the other direction before looking back at his padawan, "Be wary. I sense a disturbance in the Force." Obi-Wan perked up a little, realizing that it wasn't just him who felt the shift, "I feel it also, Master." Qui-Gon nodded in response, "Don't let them send any transmissions." And with that, the Jedi Master left, leaving the young man to deal with the ship.

Obi-Wan nodded softly and took a few steps back, trying to figure out what exactly to do next. While his head said to continue checking the ship, his heart was saying something different. He felt the Force calling him to something, but what? He tried to ignore it and keep working, but the call was too much to bear. After a moment of hesitation, Obi-Wan sighed in defeat and walked around the ship, trying to find a decent spot to meditate in. He hoped that by clearing his mind he would find peace and would be able to continue his work.

Obi-Wan soon found himself a small closet, sitting cross-legged on the ground with his hands resting on his thighs. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, focusing on his breathing as he felt the Force around him. He slowly began to levitate off the floor as he ventured deeper into the Force. He began to see glimpses of his Master, the handmaiden, the Gungan, and the droid as they walked around Mos Espa, trying to search for a shop that had their needed parts.

"The few spaceports like this one are havens for those that don't wish to be found."

"Like us."

The young Jedi aimed to continue watching, but suddenly he felt a very strong call in the Force. The images suddenly changed from those of his Master to those of an unknown figure. Darkness began to surround him, and he levitated higher off the ground.

Obi-Wan walked over to the mysterious silhouette, readying his lightsaber just in case. He slowly approached, saying only one thing, "Who are you?"

The person quickly turned around and snarled at him, revealing themselves to be a beautiful woman with golden eyes. She quickly drew her red lightsaber and struck at Obi-Wan, with him just barely countering the attack. He strained softly as he pushed against the lightsaber, "You're.. You're a sith!" He growled softly and looked into her eyes, and suddenly everything stopped.

The woman disappeared, leaving Obi-Wan alone. He looked around and saw images of someone who appeared to be an older version of him, along with a girl who looked oh so similar to the Sith he just fought.

Future Obi-Wan held the girl in his arms, "Starlight...promise me you'll be safe, ok? I couldn't-"

The image quickly whisked away into another, one of him sitting across from the girl, "Y/n, look at me. You can do this. You can find the-"

Just like before, the vision went away before he could see the full moment. Obi-Wan looked around, extremely confused, "Wait..who is she?-"

"Obi-Wan.." A female voice called out, "Obi-Wan..."

Obi-Wan looked around, desperately trying to find the source of the voice, "Hello??"

"Obi-Wan...Obi-Wan....OBI-WAN!"

Obi-Wan's eyes shot open as he plummeted to the ground, barely catching himself with the Force. He panted as he wiped the sweat off of his forehead, looking around him. Who was that woman? And why was he with her? Attachments were forbidden by the Jedi Code, so why did he appear to be close to her?

Obi-Wan shook his head as he stood up, walking out of the closet and going outside, trying to rid his mind of the non-stop questions. Once out of the ship, he took a deep breath as he looked around him, "Sand...some buildings...more sand...sand again..." The young Jedi sighed, "...not sure why I came out here, honestly. It's just sand."

As he prepared to turn around and head back inside, he felt it again- the tug within the Force. He quickly scanned the area, stopping when he felt it again. Obi-Wan bit his lip and looked back at the ship, hesitating for a moment before he began to run, following where the Force was beckoning him to go.

---

You suddenly froze as you felt something tight in your chest. Dropping the pieces of metal you were sorting, you immediately run outside of the dusty, old shop, and look out on the street. Breathing heavily, you take a look around, unable to shake the tug which is relentlessly pulling from inside of you. That was the second time you had felt that strange sensation today. As you were trying to focus on the feeling, you sensed a familiar presence coming from behind you. You furrowed your brows as you heard him approach.

"Y/n, get bata tah work! Mee did nopa give u permission tah leave do post!," The shop owner said to you in Huttese, in the ever threatening tone he always spoke in.

You growled softly, your eyes hueing into the yellow shade of gold without you knowing. You snapped your head back at the owner, "I'll be there when I'll be there!" You breathed heavily as you could feel your anger rising.

The shop owner wasn't having it. He simply glared at you and said, "Noah, ateema! Mo else u won't get do portion che do week!"

You looked down, your anger growing as you realized you couldn't win. You swiftly stormed back into the shop, your eyes glowing brighter and deeper with each second. How you longed for the day when you could get out of there; burn that dusty old shop down to the ground and leave. As many times as you planned to attempt that, you always remembered the one crucial fact keeping you from fulfilling your dream: you had a tracking device inside of you. All the slaves had one. And you knew that even if you were able to execute your revenge, you would be blown up in an instant.

Hating the very meaning of your existence, you went back to your work station and continued sorting the pieces of scrap metal, the darkness only growing inside of you. The other slaves could only cower in fear and move stations as the gold in your eyes shimmered, seeming so light but yet exuding so much darkness.

---

Obi-Wan continued to run into the town, his cloak flapping as he quickly followed the Force. "Hot," he grumbled, "Why does it have to be so hot??" He stopped for a moment to breathe, wiping the sweat from his forehead as he looked around. Just as he was about to continue running, his eyes suddenly caught a glimpse of a small store that sat on the corner of the street.

"Obi-Wan.." He heard a voice say from inside his head.

Obi-Wan breathed heavily as he started walking towards the store.

"Obi.."

The Force beckoned the young Jedi towards the store. With every step he took, Obi-Wan could feel another tug within his heart. As he finally entered the shop, a shiver went down his spine as he immediately sensed the darkness coming from nearby. As the shop owner approached him, Obi-Wan quickly dismissed him before moving towards the back of the store, searching for the source of darkness, of which the likes he had never felt before.

In a moment of pure connection, Obi-Wan suddenly felt a Force signature wrap around his, and he realized that it was the one of the girl in front of him; you. He took a deep breath and approached you, not standing so close as to avoid startling you, "Excuse me, miss?"

---

You had sensed a strange presence ever since he had entered the shop, but you were struggling to put your finger on exactly what it was. Within a moment, you felt as if a part of your soul had just been intertwined with another. Before you could even question the sensation you just experienced, you heard a voice coming from behind you.

Annoyed that you were disrupted from both your work and your thoughts, you snapped your head towards him, and your deep yellow eyes met his soft blue ones.

The moment the two of you locked eyes, it was as if the entire galaxy had suddenly stopped. As if life itself had ended, and was reborn with the two of you. You hadn't the slightest idea of what was truly going on, but you felt a light inside of you. One that wasn't there before.

Obi-Wan, on the other hand, could sense the sheer darkness coming from you. Out of pure instinct, he reached for his lightsaber, wanting to rid of this evil for the good of the Force. However, the Force itself quickly stopped him, calling him to focus on you. As he truly looked into your eyes once more, he noticed how the color was changing.

As you felt the warmth and light inside of you, the yellow in your eyes indeed began to fade. It wasn't long before they were the beautiful shade of y/c that they always were. The ones that shined as bright as the twin suns you saw each day.

Obi-Wan let his hand pass by his lightsaber and he quickly cleared his throat, smiling softly, "Hello there."

You gave a small smile back, "Hello.." This was the first time you truly had a chance to take him in. Your eyes immediately caught on to the long braid hanging over his right shoulder; you had never seen anything like it. You followed the braid up and soon found yourself looking into his eyes again. You had seen thousands of eyes in your lifetime, but never any as beautiful as the ones right in front of you. Never in your life have you seen such a beautiful shade of blue.

Obi-Wan noticed you staring, and he chuckled softly, causing you to quickly look down and go back to your work. The young Jedi stood next to you, looking at you with a warm smile, "So..what's your name?"

"Y/n," You replied, not looking up from your work. Did you actually wanna be working? Absolutely not; but it was better than embarrassing yourself again.

Obi-Wan sighed softly, "What's your last name?" He paused, waiting for your answer only to be waiting for nothing. He looked at you, "..you know you can look at me, right? I promise I don't bite."

You took a deep breath, hesitating for a moment before turning to look at him, "I don't have a last name. It's just Y/n."

Obi-Wan had a softer expression on his face, "Really?" He looked down as you nodded in response, "I see...so, where are you from?" Was he trying to get information to give to the council? Yes, yes he was. It was his duty as a Padawan and a Jedi. Although honestly. he also wanted to get to know you for himself. He was so intrigued by you, and just by being at your side, he was feeling something he had never felt before.

You sighed, "You're really asking me every question possible, aren't you?"

"I'm sorry, I could-"

"No, it's fine." You said, "But just to warn you, I'm not that interesting."

Obi-Wan knew that was a lie, but he continued to listen to you nonetheless.

You took a deep breath in, feeling a little defeated, "I don't know where I'm from, ok?"

"Well..what about your family?"

"I DON'T-" You groaned before taking a deep breath, trying to stay calm, "I don't have a family, got it? For as long as I can remember, it's always been me." You looked down as you remembered the few small glimpses you had of your childhood. You don't recall a father ever being there, but you do remember your mother. She was beautiful and kind, but she was weak. She couldn't protect herself against the dangers of Tatooine. As much as she 'tried' to protect you by hiding you away, you sometimes wished she would've kept you with her. That you wouldn't have been found and that you never would've become a slave. You curled your fists, your eyes beginning to turn yellow again as you felt the darkness come back.

Obi-Wan could sense your emotions and pain through the newly formed bond, but he knew better than to read your mind and find out what was troubling you. So, he decided that he would try to comfort you. He stepped closer, but before he could say anything, the shop owner came back over, glaring at Obi-Wan, "U ya! Why are u talking gee myo shag! She sa supposed tah be working! Ateema either bedwana something mo leave myo shop!"

The young Jedi looked back at him, raising his hand, "You will-"

"You will leave us alone!" You looked at the owner, your eyes glowing yellow. As you spoke, you suddenly felt a strong sense of power rush through you. You smirked softly as you let the darkness consume you for a short moment.

The shop owner spoke back, "Mee will leave u solo." He turned and walked away without saying a word more.

Obi-Wan simply looked at you, stunned speechless after what you had just done. More importantly, he could sense the immense darkness coming from you, and it worried and terrified him at the same time.

[radioactivepeasant]

Fic Prompts: Snippet Monday

Some weeks ago, @sparguscityangel and I were discussing the world map in Jak 2, and it occurred to me that at least one character refers to the northeastern area of the main continent as The Wasteland as well as the island to the west. And in the Jak and Daxter franchise, plot holes are just writer worldbuilding opportunities. So we started tossing around the idea of there being two or three separate communities of Wastelanders, all in different environments, because "wasteland" doesn't automatically mean "desert". And we thought "maybe they're all loosely affiliated and the leaders of the clans meet up every once in a while". For context, my idea of the other clans was Longstump Clan, down where the swamp used to be in TPL, and Foothills Clan, which lives around what used to be the Spider Caves and the base of Snowy Mountain. All this then got incorporated into Adopted Dadmas au with a pinch of Spy Tess. (That bit comes tomorrow)

"Fine young gun you've got there, Wolf."

The chief of the Longstump settlement took a drag on his intricately carved pipe and nodded to where Jak was climbing up one of the old pillars to watch for Marauder activity below. The old man snorted as the boy turned an unnecessarily elaborate flip to make it to the top.

"What is he now, eighteen? Nineteen?"

"Sixteen, by count of his last physical," Damas answered, sparing the boy a glance. A faint smile tugged at his cheek. "Sixteen, impudent, and always climbing, that one."

Sal puffed out a smoky chuckle. "No wonder the Foothills band likes him."

He leaned back and shook out the soft hide vest and tunic common to the inland Wastelanders, rattling with wooden beads and Precursor metal. His hands were wrinkled, and his face creased; Sal was old enough to be Damas’s father, but his hair was the same deep teak it was in his youth, tied back in neat plaits.

"At the rate he's going, he'll have no trouble when it's time for his Proving," Sal observed.

"Hm."

The Proving. That was what the Wastelanders of Longstump called the trials to usher newcomers into their ranks: a three day test of strength against metalheads in the basin, with an amulet awarded for each day survived.

The Foothill Wastelanders called their test Running the Spire. Young warriors or outsiders wishing to join had to race up a dangerous trail on the border of the Marauder homelands, without being caught by Marauders or dangerous wildlife, and infiltrate Snowy Mountain to bring back a piece of Marauder armor.

By comparison, the Arena was a far more controlled environment, with more rules. There was a strange irony in that.

Damas couldn't have said why the swell of pride he felt was so overwhelmingly strong, but he didn't bother to hide it.

"Jak has already passed the first two trials of his Proving," he corrected the Longstump chief with a full smile.

"I predict that before winter, he will join the warriors' councils as an equal."

Sal took another puff of his pipe and shook his head in wonder. "Two amulets and he's sixteen. Shee-oo! You dune-wolves don't do anything by halves, do you? You must be so proud."

Damas looked up. "I am," he murmured, smiling.

From the top of the pillar, Jak seemed to feel his stare. He looked down and made a questioning face. Damas snorted and signed up at him, "No moncaw-business! I'm not stealing light eco from the temple if you fall down and break both your arms!"

Sal laughed out loud beside him. "Ah! I remember telling my daughters that all the time!"

Yvelle, matriarch of the Foothills Clan finally looked up from the trade agreements the three had been exchanging. "Sometimes you just have to let them learn the hard way," she offered.

Damas made a face. "Can't. He convinced an Oracle in Haven city to teach him how to battle-shift -- like the Sages used to in the history books -- and now half the time he just regenerates whatever damage he's done to himself. I tell you, if my hair wasn't already white..."

"Your boy is a War Sage?" Sal sputtered, choking on smoke.

Yvelle's eyes glittered with interest. "No wonder he's half done with his Proving already. Hey, if you need a break, just send him up to the Caves. We'll tire him out."

"In your dreams, Yvelle," Damas scoffed. "Get your own kid: Jak's mine!"

"Worth a shot," the woman joked. "But seriously, my Lurker Wastelanders are asking about taking back their ancestral city in Frosthold. Loooooot of Marauders up there. We could use a War Sage."

Damas leaned back and searched the sky for a moment before his eyes landed on the Day-Star. He frowned. "Let's deal with subverting the apocalypse first. Then we'll see how far I'm willing to let my boy travel unaccompanied."

Of course, Jak would likely have all three amulets by then, and thus be considered old enough to go where he wanted. But Damas wasn't fond of the idea. He'd lost one son, why tempt fate by letting another wander far from home without supervision?

[dr-lizortecho]

Writing Patterns

Rules: Share the opening of your last ten published works or as many as you are able and see if there are any patterns!

I was tagged by the lovely @nyctophilic0vitnir <3

I like is better when we’re intertwined

It was inconvenient at best. Max’s house was situated so far from Roswell, from the Crash Down and even further from her lab at Deep Sky. The only true convenience was it was located on the west side like the Wild Pony, making Maria’s commute easier- even if double what it was when she stayed at her own place.

tasted blood and it’s turned to obsession

Lightning cracks through the desert sky. Static electricity seems to buzz across Max’s skin making the hairs on his arms stand up and his stomach flip uncomfortably- almost excitedly even.

Marigold and Lavender

The sky is clear. The few clouds sparse and flat, as if briskly painted onto a canvas. The pale blue of the sky deceiving as the sun beats down on him, making sweat bead across the back of his neck and slide down the curve of his back.

The First Great Queer American Western

It had been months of secret rendezvouses and stolen kisses. Keeping their private lives under wraps from the town’s gossip mill- and therefore their loved ones. Which had been nice, giving Max time to breathe and explore without his siblings prying into his reasonings and emotions. Allowing him a moment to decide what he wanted for himself.

crossed the borderline of weightless

Max is gorgeous like this. On his hands and knees, curls sweat slicked to his forehead and the muscles in his back tense. Body all strong harsh lines. With leather straps pressed into glistening skin and black silk tied loose at his wrists from where they had been secured to the metal o-rings at his waist.

Science is Sexy

���It’s for science-“ Liz repeats her mantra “-sexy science.”

Red White and (a) Royal (pain in the ass) Blue

“Remember,” Liz smiles softly, straightening his tie, “you’re handsome and charming and everyone loves you.”

‘til the sunlight cracks

It shouldn’t terrify him half as much as it does, but nonetheless it strikes through Max’s body cold and hollow. Fear making his mind snap into sharp focus, hands steady as he sets his jaw and reaches into the crashed vehicle.

The Princess & The Criminal

“Of course they got newer sexier uniforms,” Beatrix grumbles, flicking ash off the edge of the joint held between her fingers. The light grey flecks falling softly down the side of the building towards the greenery. Dancing to their inevitable doom.

and the winter passed and the sun shone upon her

A few hours into their mall trip sees the four of them with various bags and smoothies. It’s Isobel’s favorite kind of outing, one packed with all sorts of colors and new things to experience. Which is what sees them being dragged from store to store by their overly enthusiastic sister.

Idk- openers are not my strong suit, lol

no pressure tags @crepuscularqueens @ajna-eye-cogitations @beautifulcheat @angrycowboy and anyone who wants consider yourself tagged by me!

[courtof-storms]

A Meeting With the Fey

Serra laid awake in bed, staring up at the stars through the skylight and thinking back on what had happened to her in the last few months, and it all started with a story from a friend.

She was hanging out at a friend’s dorm one night as he told her of something that happened the night before. The details didn’t seem important at the time but the way he told it he met a fey from the Court of Storms in the desert. She initially thought it was just a dream he had and didn’t pay it any mind until he just…disappeared the next day. People were out and searching for him every night for two weeks before giving up. About a month passed and everyone had feared the worst. One night in her dorm, she thought about what her friend said the day before disappearing and bolted upright, what if he was telling the truth? With that story in her mind, and the memory of her friend in her thoughts, she got dressed and decided to try and find one of the fey, find out what happened to her friend, and maybe, just maybe, find a way to leave her life behind.

She went out to the desert that night and every night since. After a week she started to doubt her friend, another week and she was doubting the existence of the court, after a month of going out to the desert at night she lost hope and stopped going. As a result of losing hope, her grades tanked in school leading to her dropping out of college and moving back in with unsupportive parents. One night after getting too high to think straight, she found a crow’s skull on her desk along with a note written in infernal. She looked it over and tried to parse the writing before the realization of what it was dawned on her. It was a set of directions to gain access to the court.

“Go to the 7/11 on the outskirts of town, buy a black coffee, a pack of cigarettes, and a red rose before going out to the local lake and placing them at the base of Aoife’s tree.” the note said. She initially took it as a hallucination before passing out on her bed. When she woke she found the note and skull still there on her desk. Now thinking it was some kind of joke, she ignored it for a few days. But something was nagging at her in the back of her mind the entire time before it became too much and curiosity got the better of her. So she took the note and skull off her desk one night and followed the instructions.

Before she knew it she was on her way to the outskirts of town, picked up what the note said and made her way to Lake Brenna, where Aoife’s tree was. When she got there she noticed something she hadn’t before, a small mushroom ring in front of the tree. She shrugged and put them in the middle of the circle before waiting, and she waited for a while, listening to music to pass the time. After what seemed like an hour, maybe two, someone came up behind her and gently tapped her shoulder. Serra took out one of her earbuds in time to hear their voice.

“Wasn’t sure you’d come.” they said, their voice calm and beautiful. Serra turned around and saw someone who could only be described as beautiful. A woman a full head taller than Serra, her hair a deep black like freshly spilled ink was tied up in a messy bun, her face inviting and strong, and her eyes were a piercing blue, all the moreso since there were two irises in each eye and the sclera was as black as the night. She wore a deep red dress, black leather jacket with a pair of crow skull earrings, and tights that had seen better days along with sneakers that were eerily clean, like they were taken from a store display just minutes ago.

“Almost didn’t, was thinking it was a joke my friend played on me.” Serra replied. The woman reached down and picked up the coffee and cigarettes, taking a sip of the former and giving Serra a quick look over.

“No, not a joke, your friend joined us, said somethin’ ‘bout you wantin’ to join as well, I get that right?” Serra was taken aback by both what the fey said and her teeth which were all sharp like shark teeth. “Don’t worry, he’s safe. We’re a kinda folk that takes in the lost and the found, the energetic and weary, the pure and impure, the successful and…”

“The burnouts.” Serra said, the woman nodded.

“I wouldn’t put it like that but yeah, you get the gist. So what’s on your mind then, why seek us out?” She asked. Serra shifted around nervously, scratching at her arm and avoiding eye contact. The woman held out the cigarettes, offering one to her. Serra took a cigarette and lit it with a lighter from her pocket. She took a quick puff before replying.

“Anywhere’s better than my folks.” Serra replied, the woman nodded knowingly.

“That’s not an uncommon reason. Have you a place to go otherwise?”

“My dorm maybe but we’re on break right now so I can’t stay there at the moment.” Serra said, taking another puff of her cigarette.

“I’m sorry to hear, how long have you been on break?” the woman asked again, causing Serra to shift around uncomfortably once more.

“I-it’s been a while, they found a pretty bad uh, mold infestation and they’re in the middle of cleaning it out.” Serra lied. The woman seemed to catch that but decided not to challenge it.

“Oh, why don’t you come to the court then? Can stay the night with your friend at the very least and catch up, I know you haven’t seen him in a while” she offered, reaching down to get the rose and putting it in her jacket. “Just know, if you leave after the night you have a day to decide if you want to stay.”

“Yes!” The word didn’t leave Serra’s mouth fast enough and the fey woman nodded slightly in response, taking a drag from her cigarette.

“Alright then, why don’t you follow me, little one.” she said before walking out in the distance towards the lake. Serra followed almost immediately, humming a happy tune as she did.

“So uh, what’s your name?” Serra asked.

“I’m Helena, may I have your name?” She asked, causing Serra to hesitate a bit. Helena let out a small chuckle. “Don’t worry, I won’t take it if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I’m Serra, does the court you’re a part of normally find new people like this?”

“Not typically, normally it’s people who wander into our domain for a visit decide to stay but sometimes we send people out who know the outside world and offer our domain to them.”

“Oh, so the note was…”

“That was something you earned, anyone who would wander out to the desert every day for a month should earn something. At least that’s how I view it, archfey probably doesn’t though, so yeah, be prepared for that.” Helena said, taking another sip of her coffee.

“Gotcha, and this archfey is?” Serra asked, stamping out her now used up cigarette in the dirt before catching up to the fey.

“Archfey is the leader of the court and tasked with keeping everything in order along with our most sacred of duties.”

“So like a lord or a bishop?”

“Yeah I guess that’s the closest thing to compare it to. Not exactly a one to one though.” Helena replied.

“So…can I ask you something? The stuff I bought from 7/11, is that what’s needed to summon one of your court or was that just…”

“Yes and no, some was true and some was not, like the rose was actually needed, coffee and cigarettes were just for me.” She replied, reaching back and undoing the messy bun, letting her hair fall in jet black waves down her back. “Crow skull, rose, a lock of hair, and something precious to you is truly what’s needed to summon one of us.” Helena said after a bit of hesitation.

“Oh, I thought that was just a myth.”

“No, that’s one of the superstitions that’s actually true. Though you ought to be careful with that method, it can do more than just summon us, at least, depending on the environment around the offering.” She informed her companion.

“What else could possibly be summoned by that?”

“Not what, whom. If the sky is red as blood and moon shines brightest you can summon Her.”

“Her? Who’s ‘Her’?” Serra asked, cocking her head to the side.

“The demoness whose name you shan’t ever utter. Not even in a dream, lest you beckon Her to you.” Helena replied, doing her best to hide a shudder of fear from Serra.

Serra understood now what the fey meant by Her and the realization sent a chill down her spine. She looked around, trying to find anything out of the ordinary but didn’t find anything as far as she could tell. The two walked in silence for a while until Helena suddenly stopped.

“Come now, let’s not dwell on the thought, we’re almost there, just have to do a quick crossing.” Helena said. Serra stopped and looked around them, spotting nothing odd, at least, not until Helena kneeled down and wiped away the dirt from the ground, revealing a rock carved with a crow’s skull.

The half-elf almost asked what was so special about this rock but decided against it when she saw Helena take the rose from her jacket pocket and spread the petals around the rock. She then placed a hand over the rock and started reciting a prayer under her breath in a language Serra didn’t recognize until the last sentence which suddenly changed to common.

“...Of this I pray you.” Helena finished the prayer and bit her thumb, wiping it on the stone and leaving a trail of crimson blood.

Almost immediately after, the rose petals burst into green flame and started floating off the ground, spinning slowly as they rose before speeding up and moving so they were perpendicular to the ground. More blood flowed from Helena’s thumb, mixing with the fire and spreading around inside the ring. Shortly after there was a gust of air and a light blue portal opened in the middle of the flame, small at first then eventually filling the space the rose petals left.

“Come little one, it won’t stay open forever.” Helena instructed in common, holding out her hand to Serra, who hesitated before taking it, knowing it would most likely be the last time she was in the mortal realm. She looked around and a small tear rolled down her cheek as she took Helena’s hand and followed her through the portal.

[libidomechanica]

“By night”

A cinquain sequence

               1

By night. When I canna wrang the blossoms with the Breton, not file.—Fairest-blossom of thee?

               2

Be term’d a private blow— I swear, no longer than she. Poetry ends like one desire.

               3

Of bright bring, the squatted hare while their style admir’d! Sought them, palace roof, at once it ran bright.

               4

And pebbles, on this. And a sleep. My delight. Stood silence meet sometimes a pieces of Christ.

               5

Of Heauen for me. The better judgment and delight groves Elysian: but in Oneness Union.

               6

To death! He sterne coste? And havins and aye shed a million tires? The short Metro ride home.

               7

Than though ’tis tatters: robert Burns: pass by that stones, to tak me eerie, sir. Dear fatal name!

               8

And none to Chide! Winds creep between classes, the sun. And she gaed o’er there I got the echo!

  ��            9

Two persuade me share it is his held her lap. For throws shuttles that delight, towards all the teeth.

               10

—For I have left. Here han crustes, and your names of dark slave told that often livedst unlov’d.

               11

I sent a message sent? A flower; the beautiful blushes where is a joy the Genius.

               12

Making strangers pale-ey’d virgin’s conflagration of those I need have drawn thy Mount Lycean!

               13

Arsenic, sure, turn to Caledonie! In desolate? Keep with my own self-same fixed my life.

               14

And such a loyal people beams, and dote on, when I lose name more! Those little Mercury.

               15

My life. What thou to Love? Or naething quiet joke. One felt hear the gates o’ Ballochmyle.

               16

Darling, think of thee. I said to thy great renowne, rich will they bene now exanimate.

               17

For love their ruffled locks small glory brings for he, if he play, his hand obeys. And sweetness?

               18

Of emerald and felt. Hugging along the beauties charge nibble they stept into bowers.

               19

The brine. And Terebinth good eawes be more holds, from heaven above thee puts all away?

               20

Morrell, of Heauen for the happy am I! Behold me understood the changes in one.

               21

—She took it away on ever dumb; I will side. My Muse grows a death. And be gay, or nay.

               22

As well maist thou to Love? And of mine ear confounds, thus by your judgment more solemnity.

               23

Or being for those views remove, and solicit new; now, while. And joy: when she laughing vaults.

               24

With the mournful sweet, so long ypent. And learn to learn. When I thy singing soul, and with you?

               25

Or from fame’s black ink my love! Quo’ her gown; she led him, while bay leave to touch, yet not mixed.

               26

Under the early song. Kind Nature’s very whizzing of shames, and its love. As doesn’t cut it.

               27

Once-a- boy pilfering about my ears: aye, thou with us. Said I, low voic’d: Ah whither!

               28

The deep so chary as I, not thus did behold! Of lusty May! Yet do not do, not file.

               29

This is the diamond, my spirit that I was sixty! For years in vert fields were immortal!

               30

Benighted vows I beheld a baskets of bright climbe. Her mouth, life’s self I cried; ah, curs’d duke!

               31

Is eel- black. Be still breathed for Gotes: therefore you grew or stood them twa. Only a magic.

               32

You are full-waked sky, till breathing finer than ever dew; and her face so ground the vow?

               33

Of a greatest dreamed I stood I will sob on. Such high up the bedroom blue nightfall we loved?

               34

Over the city. To climbs I faintest in the great into her lifting is done away!

               35

Her air: a moments, by dying lamps grew scarce seene. I a cave eating hearts of good than me.

               36

Call meet thy silv’ry feet the end of me? A vulture from his voices which the deserts led.

               37

A child complain’d, more ponderous and adore: no man e’er panted face I seem to and fame.

               38

Winding aisles, and round the sun’s purse, being him his sun-rise and press; and for him did keepe.

               39

’Tis scar’d away, before is no remedy?—Strong Arm—and opens touching comes in the east.

               40

Shah, and thence the still in love; who, coward them up, in bitter be struck, and lo! And the lake.

               41

Tis morning can rival, can bide? Thundering drum cries Hark! And the chance meet so near delight?

               42

Offensive content,—hurling mind of love, and strange ministrings outraught. Will last nights abuse.

               43

And thee in the mind to boudoir region when I hear they both ends. And forget what good night.

               44

When I this fair they sat, she has twa sparkling roguish still! Said I, low voic’d: Ah whither!

               45

My boyling bright into the scrip, with voice the first, thus one with my dazzled solemnity.

               46

Flower and pain, for her shoes from the rill. Pictured by the claws wept. At last sad mortal Love.

               47

” “Toot, toot! When she’s up and distraughts instead demurest Steps builds up his mate in humble grief.

               48

That loue? My soul with a ring and day through the dewy morn; an’ chieftain king’s: beneath hold thee.

               49

Like some influence rare went, spirits. And I can mine own self did turn them not any close?

               50

And spread greyly eastward, tho’ I die. But I am dead; he may she tale Arabian.

               51

They brought the roads, as I watch and felt. It grows young trees in ev’ry fear is put beside me ….

               52

’Tis scar’d away at once, till with you when all my good ear too much bright thus, where not her fame!

               53

” “Toot, toot! That, spontaneously all past, making die in musing in due times gone away.

               54

I’m o’er the Shepheards bene an ocean. Coles of Desire—the Sense, or pale lips did reare.

               55

And to face divine: o soothest Sleepers’ den? Made me the South comes more to thy beautiful.

               56

To wyten she’s up and my hart opprest, until, from thy flame. Turn not the heart will sob on.

               57

Edges thee, have I? Which at the times a pieces of the diamond, my sweet fingers walk here.

               58

Solitary breezy sky, till from Araby; pluck down the narrow past midnight light. Ah!

               59

Your name the urge to hear men say, we left by me releeued. Excuse the Country seasons go.

               60

Tenement. At length, no face: again I’ll pour intent on either die. Worth with a heart still.

               61

Coronet. Crying: The deep, and said, he street and the rising freshly folly once to me?

               62

The god of eyes so farewell. As any Life it basks And such a loyal people apart.

               63

It with these, a shout most his rest; wherewith, life’s dead-still the rash deed. Which make me the moon.

               64

To commune with feasting back to when from me? One of the curse the fire of Humanity.

               65

For me, to fetch a look; possess one lake, and married and married in fresh petals or no.

               66

Thou need me to gaze of history. Each having my eye I kept on the heart, speed of weeping.

               67

A disguise in the sounding the double Burden. Her cheek the pipy hemlock the receive.

               68

Of helth. Coming how farwell shore, when all thy granting their jewel from all with Time decaying.

               69

Fair I chanc’d and tell that for those fair, and temperature. Now see what never been mine eyes.

               70

Thou, O awful archers that twilight of delight. Conjure the poor and stops her comes in one.

               71

He wand’ring their out-peeping on a mirror throtes. Stood alone, for the tame flow’r to death.

               72

My life. No voice cry Is it die. Themselves also, whose riches rancke? In vain lost high perfume.

               73

The stones ravishment, felt for love hold then ask of sheepe their Jaws blood left but of force to do?

               74

Who thus I watched whelp to creepe: she left the wood. Bout then, shall be lost ere you hear, Eadwacer?

               75

Treasures deeper than a bairn, she and earnestly said will transient round Love’s elysium.

               76

Your ring? Of a pigeon taste a drop of the latch, and nearer wayes; those far-fam’d Grecian, stay!

               77

Our shrine he heavy meteor-stones of the Peacock— raced the remedy? I want of me?

               78

And now the Isle, and sic a lass o’ Ballochmyle. But shepherds to come, if they fused me!

               79

Deep, and up I stay; sad proof how well a lover hie, laugh and fear, thou to Love? Could arise!

               80

Because their rents. Cried—La bell was prouder o’er youngling tears, for a lass o’ Ballochmyle.

               81

Except the echoes of dapple brows of abrupt, a grey stone wall. I set jars of this brain?

               82

Arsenic, surely downs, and when it grown yew tree does shed is. Yet poore Slaues vniust decaying.

               83

And on Fortune, make me the moon-beam dwelling. It merit, far, what the time’s best of ony!

[momentofch-aos]

M's Marvel Thought of the Day (tis a long one - hold onto your hats)

Two similar conversations Daniel Sousa is likely to have had at two different points in time.

tw: mentions of PTSD

this got wildly out of control and long in the second part, i apologise

[ The Stark Mansion - 1947]

As he stepped out onto the patio that Jarvis had pointed him towards, he caught sight of her by the pool. It had been a little over 48 hours since they'd shared the kiss in his office. Since then, they'd attempted to leave the office to finally get that drink only to find out Jack had been shot and then jumped straight into their investigation. Between guarding Jack and pursuing any lead they could find, they had probably had 3 hours of sleep between the two of them in two days, and if Jarvis hadn't arrived at the hospital and dragged them to Stark's for dinner, they no doubt would have carried on till they collapsed.

Although he knew how exhausted she was, he couldn't but take in her graceful beauty as she perched on the edge of the pool, both legs of her jumpsuit rolled up to her knees as she dipped her toes in the water mindlessly. Clearly deep in thought, she didn't sense his presence until he came up besides her, her face turning to smile up at him.

"Mind if I join you Carter?" She gestured to the spot besides her as he very carefully lowered himself to the floor. Arranging his prosthetic so it hung over the edge of the pool, he sat a little further back than her. "What's rattling round that big brain of yours Peggy?"

He noticed the change in her demeanour after they'd visited Jack for the first time. He was still unconscious, pale and small of stature against the sheets. There had been a falter in Peggy's expression, almost imperceivable, before the mask she usually wore resumed.

"It's silly really." Her foot moved in the water, the ripples moving away from them as he watched.

"Tell me anyway."

"In the desert, Mr Jarvis and I... we argued. In the heat of the moment he said something, that he has since apologised for, but the more I think about it, the more it seems to be true." He didn't push, that wasn't the way to handle Peggy. Instead he waited for her to continue when she was ready. "Everyone around me dies." The catch in her voice as the words spilled out made his head immediately pick up, taking in her now slightly hunched shoulders.

"Peg..."

"Cannot say it isn't true. My brother, Michael. Steve. Colleen. And now Jack..."

"Jack Thompson is too stubborn to die. You know he'll be making us crazy for years yet. Plus remember the doctor said things were looking positive. He's stable and improving." Daniel tried to reassure her.

"Still. It seems to be a theme in my life. Everyone I care about comes into danger by being near me. Ana. Jarvis. Jason. You."

"That is not your fault." She moved to rebut his statement but found herself cut off, his hand landing on her arm in a soft grip. "Ana made the choice to go and confront Frost, she said so herself. Jarvis ran head first into danger at the first opportunity. And Steve... he made his choice, for the greater good. And as for me, it's my job Peggy, just as it is yours. We put ourselves on the line to protect everyone else, no one forced me just as no one forced you."

Her gaze was soft on him as she listened to his words, the honesty shining through. She leant into his shoulder, resting her head against his neck.

"I don't want to lose anyone else." She mumbled, feeling his strong arm loop around her waist and scoot her closer.

"I don't either, but the best we can do is continue to fight. Together, if that's what you want."

"It is. If you'll have me Chief, I think I'd like to stay in California for a while." She smirked up at him, pressing a kiss to his jaw.

"I think we can handle that."

***********************************

[The Lighthouse - 2020]

Despite being familiar with all the Shield bases in his own time, the extensive corridors and seemingly endless levels of the Lighthouse had been completely alien to Daniel. Luckily, he'd been accompanied by Daisy for most of the time since they had returned to this Shield team's timeline. It had been a steep learning curve for Daniel in the past three weeks, but the team had been endlessly supportive and helpful as he learned to adapt.

This morning Fitz had been making some improvements to his prosthetic, which Daniel had thought was pretty much perfect until Fitz adjusted something and there was a relief of pressure he hadn't even realised he'd been able to feel. The engineer made him run drills and lift weights to monitor the performance of the limb and once he deemed it satisfactory, he'd been let go, with the knowledge that there would be periodic adjustments in the future.

In awe of modern technology, he wandered down towards the bunks to find Daisy. She had been excited to see what upgrades Fitz would have in store for him. Rounding the corner to her bunk, she saw Jemma quietly shutting Daisy's bunk door, flinching slightly at the click of the lock. When she spotted Daniel, she put a finger to her lips and beckoned him towards the common room. Doing as he was told, he caught up to the biologist.

"What's wrong?" He asked in a hush tone.

"Everything will be okay, I need you to know that." Jemma said to the visible concerned man out of time.

"Jemma..."

"Daisy's having a bit of a day. She suffers with these anxiety attacks occasionally, which is expected after everything she's been through." Daisy has filled him on a lot of the team's activities before they met him and he'd read her file when she handed it to him a couple of weeks ago. "Similar to what you might call 'shellshock'. We call it PTSD now."

"Is she okay?" The concern laced through his voice.

"She's asleep now. Alya fell while they were playing and hurt herself... she's absolutely fine, clumsy like her father. But I think an overtired Daisy and the fact she feels responsible for everyone around her, may have just pushed her to the edge." Jemma fidgeted nervously with her sleeve. "She feels so much all the time, for everyone, that when she gets overwhelmed it bubbles over. She just needs time, needs to actually sleep. Hopefully, now she'll be okay for a few hours."

"Are you saying she's not been sleeping?" Jemma shook her head.

"She struggles with a proper sleep pattern outside of missions, you know what it's like. But I think with everything Enoch told us and the fact she knows things are changing, everyone...moving on. I've found her up at all hours a few times when I've been up with Alya."

"I didn't know-"

"That's not your fault Agent Sousa- Daniel sorry." Jemma caught herself. "Daisy bottles things up, doesn't want to inflict her pain and worries on anyone else. She's a tough person. If she doesn't want you to know something, you won't."

"Still..." His hand carded through his hair.

"Just give her some time, I'm sure..." Jemma was cut off by a tremor rippling through the base. The pair locked eyes before they both took off at a sprint towards the source. Flexing the new prosthetic, Daniel powered down the corridor to reach it first and find the door locked. He stepped to one side as Jemma appeared, pushing a fingerprint to the lock pad, the system disengaging as the door swung open.

Without much forethought to his own safety, Daniel threw himself through the door, taking the sight of Daisy curled into a tight ball on one side of her bunk, fists clenched in her comforter. Her face was scrunched and tears streaming out of closed eyes.

"Dais- Daisy, wake up sweetheart. Daisy." Daniel knelt by the side of her bed, a hand on her shoulder. "Cmon sweetheart. Daisy, come back to us. You're okay. We're here. We've got you." His hand cupped her cheek in an attempt to wake her and she leaned into the contact, the tremors settling as her eyes blinked open slowly. "There she is."

"Daniel? Whats.." Her eyes flickered to Jemma, who was crouched besides Sousa. "How bad?"

"Rattle the chandelier, not knocking down walls." She joked, smiling down at her friend. "How are you feeling?"

"Still fuzzy." Daisy pivoted herself into a sitting position, realising as he let go that Sousa had still had a hand on her arm. "Sorry."

Jemma sighed besides him, making him shoot her a look before she started to explain. "She always apologises. This is not your fault." She fixed her best friend with a look, which made Daisy crack a smile.

"Is Alya okay?" The worry hit her all at once as she remembered what had happened.

"She is absolutely fine. Mack took her for ice cream. She's having the time of her life."

"Good. Good, she deserves that." Daisy's gaze fixed on the blanket now and Jemma gripped her knee.

"She loves you Daisy, just like we do. Okay? You're her aunt." Daisy nodded in agreement. "You need rest, you've been pushing yourself too hard."

"Yes doctor." She mumbled, a small smirk on her face. Daniel who had been watching the interaction from his perched position, moved to straighten up and give her space to relax, only for Daisy to reach out and grab his hand, a silent question in her eyes.

He nodded and pulled up the chair from the corner of the room. Jemma hid her smirk as she bid them both goodbye.

"You good?" Daisy asked as she settled back against her pillows.

"I'm okay." He wasn't going to push her to talk about it, despite his endlessly curious about the woman in front of him.

"Thank you for staying, it... gets a little much."

"For as long as you want me here, here is where I'll be." He said, sitting back in the chair.

"You might not want to say that." She murmured. His questioning look made her sigh a little. Her instinct was to bury everything, to hold it her chest and keep it to herself. But something about him made that feeling wasn't so strong. Maybe it was a mirroring thing. He'd her about losing his leg when they were back in the barn and they'd had more open conversations. "You remember the team of Shield agents that were killed protecting me when I was a baby?" He nodded. She steeled herself with a slow breath.

"There was an agent we found shortly after I joined Coulson's team, he was one of the first on scene in the aftermath. His colleague was killed after dropping me at Saint Agnes's. He warned Coulson and May 'Wherever she goes, death follows'. They chose to ignore him, but I can't help but feel like it might..."

"No." He cut her off, shaking his head as he sat forward to be closer to her. "You can't think like that."

"But it's true, everyone dies. Trip, Lincoln, even the ones that come back. Coulson, May, Fitz. I put everyone at risk." The tears reappeared as she wiped them with her shirt sleeve, pulling her knees up to her chest.

"Daisy..." He moved then, sitting on the bed in front of her. "Their deaths are not on you. It's the job we sign up to do, we put ourselves on the line, to be a literal shield. To protect those who can't protect themselves. There are always risks, but that's what we sign up for. It doesn't make it easy and we let ourselves mourn, but it is not your fault." She looked up at him with glassy eyes.

"You really believe that?"

"I do. You are one of the best agents I've seen. And i've seen a lot in all my years." His joke made a small smile flicker over her face. "Is that why Alya falling upset you?"

"I just don't want anyone else to get hurt. Not on my watch."

"And she's a lucky little girl to have you looking out for her." There was a beat of silence, as if she was digesting his words.

"That speech seemed familiar to you. Like you'd said it before." Daisy questioned, with a tilt of her head.

"You might not be the first person I've had to convince about things like that."

"Because some of your favourite people are people like me?" The smile that lit up her face made his heart flip in his chest. He chuckled.

"Because some of my favourite people are people like you."

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If ya'll made it through this mess of words you deserve a gold star ⭐️

the parallel came to me while i washing up and then this happened.