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jinxedruby · 3 months

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Febuwhump Day Seventeen: Hostage Situation

Featuring Time, Warriors, and Wind. This is the conclusion to Wind getting kidnapped (day four: obedience and day thirteen: you weren't supposed to get hurt).

Well, this sure is long. Fun fact: I wrote this by hand and wrote so hard that my fingers were tingling by the time I finished haha

Heads up for some graphic injury and several minor character deaths (they're all bad guys and none are very graphic).

AO3

First part | <- Previous part | Next part ->

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Time stood beside Warriors, staring out at the river beyond the harbor. Water lapped at the numerous boats and ships moored at the docks, the fresh smell of the river filling Time’s nose. Sky stepped up beside him, peering out toward where the river stretched nearly to the horizon, only the slightest strip of land visible on the other side.

“Wow,” he said quietly. “Are we sure this isn’t an ocean?”

“Doesn’t smell like it,” Legend replied from where everyone else stood behind Time and the others.

“I didn’t know rivers could get this big,” Hyrule murmured.

“Which is why we need to find the sailor as soon as possible,” Warriors stated, turning to address the group. “There are a lot of ships. We should split up so we can cover more ground.”

Everyone paid the captain rapt attention as he split the group into pairs. Normally, that sort of job fell to Time, but his fingertips tingled and the roof of his mouth buzzed, millions of thoughts drumming against the inside of his skull. He could hardly focus on a coherent train of thought aside from save him, save him. He felt immensely grateful that Warriors could focus and strategize. He’d have to thank the captain once all of this was over and Wind was safe.

“Old man, you with me?” A tap on his shoulder snapped him out of his thoughts. Warriors stood in front of him, gazing at him with a carefully neutral expression. When Time nodded, Warriors continued, “You and I will search the middle few docks here.” He turned to point them out and Time nodded again.

“What about the watchman?” Four asked as the pairs began to split off. “Won’t he notice us poking around the ships?”

“If this is anything like my era, the watchmen are there to make sure no one shoves off in the middle of the night,” Warriors replied. “Just don’t do anything loud and they shouldn’t bother us.”

Four nodded before heading off toward the docks with Twilight. Warriors turned to Time again.

“Ready?”

Time nodded sharply, gaze hardening as he looked out over the ships. He set off toward them, Warriors beside him. Time had to consciously remind himself not to run, despite the angst and impatience prickling under his skin. They passed by one or two errant crew members but weren’t given a second glance. Time had remained out of his armor and Warriors had removed his spaulder and scarf in order to keep a low profile. They’d also left behind their shields as Warriors worried that the moonlight reflecting off of them would draw too much attention. With only their weapons strapped to them, they could pass off as generic guards hired onto ships.

The dock creaked beneath them as they stepped onto the wood, their footsteps joining in with the rhythm of the water flowing and pushing against the ships. Several of the boats were small enough that they could simply peer over the edge and see no one aboard. The other larger ones required boarding and therefore stealth. As Time slipped past a crew member watching the deck, he remembered sneaking through the Gerudo and pirate fortresses. These men were far less observant than the Gerudo, making sneaking onto and off of the ships unseen that much easier. The cover of night certainly helped as well. He and Warriors methodically checked every ship along the dock as quickly as they could while still being thorough. With every ship they checked and no sign of Wind, Time grew more anxious. When they searched the last ship with still nothing after an hour had passed, he felt close to exploding. Warriors squeezed his shoulder reassuringly as they walked back up the dock.

“There are a lot of ships, old man,” he murmured.

That hardly made Time feel better. He clenched and unclenched his hands, trying to control his breathing. When they began down the next dock, he blurted out what had been on his mind since Wind was kidnapped.

“They thought I was his father.”

Warriors half-turned to him, brow pinched.

“In… in the moment, I…” Time pursed his lips, digging his nails into his palms.

Warriors rested a heavy hand on Time’s shoulder. “We’ll find him.”

Time let out a slow breath and nodded. The second dock took just as long to search and proved just as fruitless. Another hour gone, daylight creeping ever closer. Third dock. Nothing. Time pounded his fist against the side of the last boat on the dock. Warriors shot him a concerned glance, but he looked almost as close to snapping as Time felt. When they began the trek to the next dock, Time glanced at the ones further away to try and get a glimpse of the others. He thought he saw a blond head over the edge of one of the ships, but it was hard to tell. In any case, he could see no indication that the others had found anything. He and Warriors started down the fourth dock and Time felt close to simply screaming for Wind and hoping to get a response. He clenched his jaw to prevent himself from doing that and spooking the traffickers into hiding even better. When only three ships remained at the end of the dock, Time’s heart sank. Two ships and a boat. He could see from where he stood that the boat sat empty. That left two ships. Cogs, he thought he remembered the captain calling them.

Warriors pointed to himself then to the ship on the right, just as he’d done at the ends of the last three docks. Steeling himself, Time headed for the cog on the left. A shadowy figure moved about on the deck and Time ducked down, hugging the side of the ship and moving toward the gangway.

“You sure we shouldn’t grab another one while we’re here? We paid that customs officer off.”

Time went still at a voice from the cog, heart thudding in his ears.

“I’m sure.”

Time’s eye widened, blood freezing. That voice. Evenin’, gentlemen, he could hear that voice drawl.

“If the kid’s father survived, he’ll be making a big fuss. ‘Sides, that officer will only look the other way for so much. He hears about kids going missing, he might decide to grow a conscience.”

Time’s hands shook. This was it. This- this- Warriors. He needed to tell Warriors. After several tries and with monumental effort, he stepped away from the cog, slinking across the dock to the ship Warriors had gone to search.

“Oh, shit- Hey! We got a problem!”

Time’s head snapped around at the shout, fearing he’d been caught. But the figures aboard the cog weren’t looking at him, they were running toward the center of the ship, vanishing out of sight behind the sides. Boots pounded on what sounded like stairs. Several exchanges passed back and forth, muffled below deck. Then Time heard the words ‘kid’s gone.’ His chest tightened, eye widening. Quickly, he turned back to the ship Warriors was on.

“Captain!” he hissed as loudly as he dared. Warriors appeared over the side of the ship after a few moments, eyes round. Time pointed to the cog and he heard Warriors suck in a breath. The captain raced toward the gangway with soft steps, hurrying down it and joining Time to head to the cog. The voices from below deck raised, Time catching words like ‘don’t know’ and ‘here somewhere.’ Did Wind escape after all? Time glanced around, noticed the captain doing the same, but he didn’t catch sight of the fluffy blond head or blue tunic. Time reached the gangway first, creeping up it with Warriors just behind him. He stayed low, cautiously poking his head over the side of the ship when he was close enough. Moonlight spilled across an empty deck, warm torchlight emanating from a staircase in the center, leading below. He carefully stepped onto the deck, heard the soft thud of Warriors landing behind him. As they moved toward the stairs, the conversation below deck became clearer.

“-tching the deck the whole night, I swear, he couldn’t have gotten past.”

“Which means, like I said, that he must be down here somewhere,” the man that first approached Time and Wind said. “Stop panicking and start searching. It’s a small space, he doesn’t have that many options. Go watch the stairs to make sure he doesn’t slip past.”

Hurried footsteps came toward the stairs and Warriors and Time quickly moved around to the back of them so they wouldn’t be easily spotted. A sharp thwack like someone kicked something sounded, followed by a chuckle.

“Resourceful little brat, aren’t you?” the first man called.

Footsteps thudded on the stairs, the head of a different man appearing below Time and Warriors. Time carefully withdrew his gilded sword from its sheath on his lower back, silently stepping around the side of the stairs, remaining just out of the man’s peripherals. The man jogged up the stairs and turned around with a huff, agitatedly scratching the top of his head. His eyes darted toward where Time crouched and he froze, going bug-eyed. He opened his mouth to yell but Time moved faster. He whipped his sword about, slamming the flat of it against the side of the man’s head. Warriors was there before Time could blink, catching the man as he crumpled before he could hit the deck and alert the other traffickers.

None of that mattered though, as the second man that had followed the first up saw everything.

Before Time or Warriors could move, the man put his fingers to his lips and let out a sharp whistle. Warriors cursed and drew his blade as footsteps pounded from below them. The whistler took a step back down the stairs, yanking a knife from within his coat. Three more men appeared behind him. Then they all rushed up the stairs.

Time blocked the first blow with his sword, returning it with a strike of his own. The tip of the blade nicked the man in the arm, who grunted, stumbling back down a step. Another took his place, slashing at Time. Time automatically lifted his right arm to block before remembering he didn’t have his shield. He caught the blade on his forearm, clenching his teeth as it sliced through his brown undershirt and into his skin. He resisted the urge to step back, parrying the next attack.

Warriors yelped and Time glanced at him out of the corner of his eye to see the captain fall to one knee. The man Time knocked out had already woken back up and sunk a dagger into Warriors’ calf. The moment the captain went down, the men on the stairs surged forward. Time jerked forward to block a blow aimed for the captain’s neck while Warriors twisted around to fend off the man behind him. In moving, Time left an opening for the men to slip past him up the stairs. He dodged a swing, stepped so he stood directly beside Warriors, turning to face the traffickers. They circled like sharks, jumping back when Time slashed at them. He tried to find a moment to switch to the biggoron sword, but the attackers gave him no respite. They traded strike after strike, forcing Time to go on the defensive as he tried to remain as a wall between them and Warriors so the captain could recover.

The deck lurched beneath him and he staggered back into Warriors. The other men lost their footing at the unexpected motion as well, the fight halting momentarily as everyone focused on regaining their balance. A loud clatter sounded behind him.

“What are you doing?!” one man shouted.

“They’ve got company!”

Time risked a glance over his shoulder to see a different man, one that must have snuck around the other four, dropping a long pole onto the deck. The gangway lay on the dock, presumably having fallen from the cog when the man shoved away from the dock. The ropes keeping the ship in place were cut clean through. Two figures sprinted down the dock and Time recognized them to be Sky and Hyrule, the two that had been searching docks closest to him and Warriors. By the time they reached the end, the cog had already drifted too far away and Sky had to grab Hyrule to keep him from running right off the dock, the traveler not stopping fast enough.

Time didn’t get a chance to see what they did next, whipping back around to defend against the men. One lunged forward and Time ducked under the swing. He shoved off one foot, driving his shoulder into the man’s gut and knocking him back down the stairs. The man tumbled with a series of thuds and yelps as the others dove at Time. He blocked one attack which left him unable to dodge the other, knife slashing across his shoulder. He forced the first attacker away and stepped backwards. His back hit something warm and solid. He stiffened, turning, only to find Warriors fending off both the man that had stabbed him and the one responsible for undocking the ship. He turned back just in time to intercept an overhead swing with his sword, riposting and leaving a deep gash in the man’s chest. One knife clanged against his sword, another deflected off his arm and leaving another deep cut. He gritted his teeth, trying and failing to find a moment to grab his biggoron sword. Between Warriors at his back, the four men surrounding his front and right, and the stairs to his left, he had very little room to maneuver.

One man made a clumsy swing, overextending. Time knocked the knife aside, throwing the man off balance. Then he followed up by running his sword through the man’s gut. The man’s eyes bulged before Time ripped his sword free and he collapsed. The remaining three hesitated. In a flash, Time swapped the gilded sword for the biggoron sword. He swept the massive blade out in front of him in a half circle. The first man in its path failed to dodge in time, receiving a devastating slash along his middle. The others leapt back with a cry as he fell, his blood pooling beneath him and mingling with the other man’s. Time pushed his advantage, stepping forward and swiping the claymore in front of him again, forcing the men further back. A sharp yell from behind him spoke of Warriors’ success and a thrill of adrenaline rushed through Time as he realized they could win this.

“Let’s everyone calm down!” a bellow carried across the deck. A yelp accompanied it that made Time’s blood run cold. He glanced back toward the stairs he’d moved several feet away from and his heart stopped.

The man that had first approached them stood at the top of the stairs with a smug grin. His fingers twisted into the sun-bleached blond locks of Wind, a knife pressed to the sailor’s throat. Wind writhed in his grip until the blade pressed against his skin hard enough to draw blood, a mixture of anger and fear etched into his face. Blood roared in Time’s ears as he watched, eye stretched wide, hands shaking.

“You two are going to put down your weapons,” the man said casually. He yanked Wind’s head back so more of the sailor’s neck was exposed, tilted the blade more directly against his throat. “Alright?”

“You won’t kill him,” Warriors spat. Time’s gaze darted over to see Warriors staring down the man with utter loathing, knuckles white around the hilt of his sword. “He’s merchandise.”

The man cocked his head to one side and flashed a grin at the captain. “You’re right.” Then in one swift movement, he pulled the knife away from Wind’s neck and plunged it into the sailor’s arm, dragging the blade along toward his elbow. Wind yelped, high-pitched and sharp, as Warriors and Time both shouted. Heat rushed into Time’s face as he watched blood soak into Wind’s sleeve. The man flicked the knife, blood droplets scattering from the blade, before returning it to rest against the cut, drawing a small gasp from the sailor. “Nothing a potion can’t fix.”

Time could barely see straight. Pure rage boiled in his chest and throat, flooding his head. Unconsciously, he took a step toward the man and Wind, but stopped as the man shoved the point of the blade into the gash again. Wind gave a strangled shout, digging his nails into the man’s arm in an attempt to free himself, but to no avail.

“I’ll repeat myself as many times as it takes,” the man said, smile dark. “Drop your weapons.”

Half a beat passed and the man stabbed the knife deep into Wind’s arm. He twisted the weapon and Wind screamed, the sound piercing Time’s very soul. Time tore his hands away from the hilt of his sword, the blade clattering to the ground at the same time as Warriors’. The man’s grin widened and Time’s blood screeched through his veins with a hatred stronger than any he’d ever felt before. His skin burned despite the cool air pulling past him as the cog drifted farther and farther down the river. He was so focused on watching the tears roll from Wind’s eyes that he didn’t see the shadow racing toward them across the water until the last moment.

The oncoming boat rammed directly into the cog. The impact sent everyone flying with shouts. A couple men unlucky enough to be near the edge sailed right over it, plunging into the river with distant splashes. Time tumbled across the deck, colliding with another body. He ripped himself away as pandemonium erupted around him. More men came from below deck, shouting about a breach in the hull. The man he’d crashed into attacked, launching himself into Time. They toppled back, Time sent a punch into the man’s jaw. His shoulders hit something hard. He recognized it as the side of the ship. The man wrestled his way on top of Time, aiming a blow at his face. Time let it hit, instead reaching to plant his hands on the man’s middle. Then he shoved, curling and kicking the man up and over his head. The man fell over the side of the ship with a yell. Time sprang to his feet before even hearing the splash, head reeling slightly from the hit. He glanced around for his sword, discovered Legend and Wild on the deck, coming from the boat they’d crashed into the cog with.

A holler from his right alerted him to a man running up in his blind spot. The man slashed, Time ducked under the swing. He dove forward, catching the man off guard, and shoved him over the side and into the river. He turned back, remembered the gilded sword, yanked it from its sheath. He heard a grunt and spun to his left to see two men pinning Warriors to the deck. All three were unarmed and the captain kicked at them as one fisted a hand in his hair and slammed his head back into the deck. Time darted up to them. He stabbed one through the back, the other noticing the fatal blow and leaping aside. Legend appeared behind the man and smashed the hilt of his sword into the man’s temple. Warriors stumbled to his feet, Time reaching out to steady him.

“I’m- I’m good,” Warriors panted as he regained his footing. His injured leg gave beneath him but he managed to catch himself before falling. “Get the sailor!”

Time nodded and darted away, head swiveling as he looked around for Wind. He vaguely became aware of water burbling underfoot, but he couldn’t care about that. Wild fired arrows from across the deck but switched to his sword when a man got too close. Legend leapt back into the fray with a cry, tempered sword gleaming in the moonlight. Then he spotted Wind, the sailor clutching a knife in his good hand and fending off a trafficker. Time took off toward him. He made it two steps before a body collided with him, bringing him to the ground. The impact knocked his sword from his grasp, sending it skittering across the deck. He twisted, managing to knock the pair of hands away before they could wrap around his neck. He punched man in the gut then shoved, pushing him over and sending them rolling so Time was on top. He grabbed the man’s head and slammed it against the deck. Then he did it again, and again, until the man fell still. He scrambled to his feet, gaze darting to where he last saw Wind. He located Wind just as the sailor sank the knife into a man’s gut, sending him down. Wind slumped forward with a gasp, staggering slightly. He didn’t see the first man approach from behind.

A red haze flooded Time’s vision. Before he knew what happened, he sprinted across the deck, careened into the man, and brought him down. The man’s shout cut off with a gag as Time grabbed his throat, pressing all his weight down into his hands. He’d kill him, he’d kill him, for everything he’d done to Wind, to his son. Everything the man would’ve done, everything he would’ve allowed to happen, everything, everything-

Something popped under his hands then all at once someone grabbed his shoulders, trying to pull him back, shouts filling his ears.

“-dead, he’s dead, Link, please!”

Time blinked and his grip loosened. Warriors yanked him back with all his strength and pulled him back off the body. Neither expecting the sudden motion, they fell to the deck in a tangled heap, Warriors ending up half beneath Time. Legend appeared above Time, grabbing his hand, pulling him up. He said something that Time didn’t register, Time glancing back almost numbly to make sure he hadn’t hurt Warriors. Then he caught sight of Wind. The sailor staggered toward him, arm drenched in blood, bits of flesh jutting out of the wound and through the hole in his sleeve. A cry tore itself from Time’s throat and he wrenched his hand out of Legend’s grip, lunging for Wind. Wind’s expression crumpled just before Time collided with him. He gathered the sailor into his arms, shaking as he clutched the back of Wind’s head and held him tight against his chest. Wind’s body hitched with a sob, arms coming up to hug Time in a death grip. Time rocked back and forth, arms shaking as he stroked Wind’s hair, tucking the sailor’s head beneath his chin. Wind was here, he was safe, and Time felt quite certain in that moment that he would never let him go ever again. Then Warriors appeared at their side, squeezing Time’s shoulder saying they had to go, ‘I’m sorry, we have to move, now.’ Time stared at him for a long moment before sound came crashing back properly into his ears. He’d hardly noticed its absence until it returned. Water roared below deck, rushing in through whatever breach the ram caused and filling the cog.

“The ship’s got a raft!” Wild yelled. Time looked up to see the champion standing at the back of the ship, one leg up on the ledge. “We can take it to shore, but we have to go now!”

Warriors shook Time’s shoulder. “Come on, Link, we have to move.”

Time nodded jerkily, unsteadily getting to his feet and keeping his hold on Wind. The sailor made no comment on being carried, hiccupping and burrowing deeper into Time’s shirt. Time, Warriors, and Legend hurried to join Wild. Warriors stooped to grab Time’s gilded sword as they passed it while Legend darted away to grab the biggoron sword where it had slid across the deck. Once they approached, Wild turned and jumped off the back of the ship. Time’s heart fluttered with panic before he reached the side and saw Wild standing on a dinghy lashed to the back of the cog. Time secured his hold on Wind before jumping the short distance down. Wild had already begun attempting to untie the dinghy by the time he landed. The champion cursed, fumbling with the knot as the cog let out a loud groan, tipping slowly to one side. Time stumbled and quickly sat down, taking one hand off of Wind and bracing it against the thwart to steady them.

Just as Wild gave up and reached for his sword, Legend jumped forward, deftly undoing the knot. The dinghy plunged and Time’s stomach fell away. The boat slammed into the water with a splash, water jetting up the sides and raining down on the heroes. Legend snatched oars from beneath the thwarts. He sat at the dinghy’s bow, stuck the oars in the water, and rowed. Two powerful strokes had them gliding across the water away from the cog. Another loud groan reverberated across the water. Time looked back just as it rolled belly-up. The boat Legend and Wild had rammed into it got pushed beneath it, sinking below the surface. The river slowly swallowed the cog, bringing the bodies of the traffickers into its embrace.

Wind shivered in Time’s arms. Time looked down at him, suddenly aware of something warm and wet seeping into the front of his shirt. He gently pulled Wind back to see the sailor’s arm curled between them, blood soaking into both of their clothes.

“Potion,” Time said, voice raspy. His head snapped up to look at the others frantically. “Potion, he needs a potion!”

Wild and Warriors both reached into their pouches, withdrawing bottles.

“Drink yours, Captain, you’re hurt,” Wild said, holding his out to Time. Warriors didn’t argue but he didn’t drink either, watching as Time grabbed the bottle. Time pulled the cork out with tingling fingers, holding it to Wind’s lips. Wind lifted his good hand to it and tilted it back, gulping it down. The others all watched, making sure he drank it all. As he did, the flow of blood from his arm stemmed, the wound closing. He finished it with a gasp, sitting up a bit straighter in Time’s lap as he did.

“Alright, Sailor?” Warriors asked softly. Wind nodded a bit unsteadily, sinking sideways into Time and resting his head on the old man’s chest.

“Captain, drink,” Wild gently reminded him. Warriors watched Wind for a moment longer before knocking back the potion and sighing with relief. Since the dinghy moved along at a steady pace, Time wrapped his other arm back around Wind, enveloping the sailor in warmth. Wind wound his arm around Time’s waist, pulling himself closer.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

Time’s heart squeezed. The exhaustion of the battle, the pain of the cuts in his arm, the stress, the panic, the rage, everything came crashing down all at once. A wave of dizziness struck him, chest and extremities tingling. He exhaled through his nose and rested his cheek on Wind’s hair. He held Wind close, feeling the sailor’s little torso expanding and contracting with each breath. He closed his eye and held Wind just a little tighter.

#linked universe fic #linked universe fanfic #linked universe #tw death #ruby writes #febuwhump #febuwhump2024 #lu time #lu warriors #lu wind #another fun fact: it was legend's idea to steal a boat (he was also the one that sailed it in) and wild's idea to ram the cog with it #I know so much about medieval boats now

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fastcardotmp3 · 1 month

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22 32 and 36 🥰

let's go anon!!! <3

💛 writers asks! 💛

22. What is it about watching the same two idiots fall in love over and over again?

It's about the I will find you in every universe of it all, but it is ALSO very much, for me, about the way you get to look at a character you're enamored with from a thousand different angles. Who are they at their core and how do those traits transfer across time and location and genre and plot? How do you get to the meat of who someone is? Who two people are together?

You do it by giving them a new scenario in which to express themselves to you and you do it by giving them free reign over a brand new world, filled with new people or places or circumstances or hurdles! and it's! so! good!!!!

32. Do you have a word/ expression that you always use in your writing?

god like a trillion? i'm honestly so annoying about it i'm a doll with a drawstring and five catch phrases but to name a few:

He's [adjective], and unbearably so.

"...and god, god, isn't that something?"

... positively [enamored, fond, overcome, etc].

"There's something [adjective] about it..."

"It's not an easy thing, [situation they are currently in], but [narrative device that states theme of story]."

"Fuck."

"She stills."

Literally just a very long internal monologue followed by two staccato sentences that end a scene

etc.....

36. How do you come up with fic titles? What's the one you're most proud of?

It really depends fic to fic! Like, I generally don't prefer to go the song title route, but when it came to Febuwhump, I simply did not have it in me to title 14 fics fjsadflkj

Otherwise, though, I think my favorite part of picking a title is in finding the place in the fic where its meaning becomes clear. I think it's genuinely fun to find the overarching meaning of a story and cutting it down to a single descriptor. for instance!

I'm really proud of METAMORPHOSES because it's a metaphor until it's not; I really like the spot where wish on an eyelash becomes an actual conclusion/ thematic statement; and my favorite is maybe still someone else's favorite song because I think the click moment of what it means still lands the best of any I've written <3

#ask #wip game #thank you anon!

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genuineformality · 1 year

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I posted 1,210 times in 2022

That's 1,178 more posts than 2021!

115 posts created (10%)

1,095 posts reblogged (90%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@taralkariel

@marycontraire

@totchipanda

@elle-rosewater

@saritasoyyo

I tagged 1,036 of my posts in 2022

Only 14% of my posts had no tags

#fanfic - 142 posts

#six of crows - 142 posts

#kaz brekker - 90 posts

#vitally important bird content - 72 posts

#please keep bird tags coming - 61 posts

#inej ghafa - 59 posts

#about the author - 54 posts

#writing - 39 posts

#febuwhump - 33 posts

#kanej - 31 posts

Longest Tag: 107 characters

#no shit i spent my first decade of bird watching with a pair of $40 binoculars and an inherited field guide

My Top Posts in 2022:

I posted my second SOC fanfic yesterday and I have been gauging the response of this one vs the last. Acknowledging that I have a sample size of two and making some assumptions based on time and date of launch, word count, and changes in POV, I have come to the following conclusion:

The Six of Crows fandom greatly prefers stories involving the main character performing a grisly murder and does not prefer noodling about the realities of launching an anti-human trafficking nonprofit in a modern day Ketterdam.

Which, okay. I can see that.

I’m still 100% going to keep writing about Inej’s anti-human trafficking NPO progress, but maybe I’ll try to work a few more grisly murders into the plots. Goodness knows, as an NPO professional myself, I’ve certainly fantasized about being able to solve problems with murder, so maybe this will be cathartic for everyone involved.

28 notes - Posted January 7, 2022

Old Gods of Appalachia continues to do a fascinating piece of storytelling, where the listener is introduced to something bone chillingly terrifying as the preamble and then introduces something that is significantly worse and scares the bejeezus out of the haint whom we have just gotten to know. It is both a brilliant way to introduce multiple types of creatures and also show the relative hierarchy of the things that go bump in the night.

38 notes - Posted July 4, 2022

Me, working on my SOC Modern AU: “What would a city created by nearly unfettered capitalism with an actual prosperity cult look like in the modern day?”

Also me, someone living in USA: “OH.”

44 notes - Posted January 9, 2022

There is nothing that makes me feel as connected to my ancestors as being on my weekly Shabbat call and forgetting which prayer I’m doing in the middle of it.

“…Asher kidshanu b’mitzvotav-“ look down at the bread in front of me, “-FUCK.”

49 notes - Posted January 7, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

I have finished Season 2 of @thesiltverses and I am deep in my feels about the nature of faith and how we incorporate it (or not) in our daily lives; the pervasive perniciousness of capitalist propaganda; how the only good cops aren’t cops anymore; the incredible storytelling at work to showcase a world that is both incredibly alien and yet entirely familiar; and how to write people who are Not Good in such a way as to make them extremely sympathetic and relatable. (There’s a longer maunder about the nature and relativity of good and evil in the context of worlds that have significantly different cosmologies, which I’m likely going to have a lot of feelings about later.)

Absolutely incredible work. If you are into horror radio dramas (and don’t mind a *lot* of body horror - like *a lot*), I 100% recommend. Please join me in this absolute obsession. Just cannot get over how good it is.

86 notes - Posted October 22, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #I've been on tumblr for ages #but this is the first year in many that I've actually been active #these tags tho #real birds #fake crows

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runbymachinesandclones · 2 years

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Reading my year away: 2021 Edition

This is a day late but you know me, I’m the queen of procrastination. But I have spent some time doing this and it would be a shame if I just deleted it because of timing. So, here you have it.

I’m what you could call, an avid reader. A few years ago, I used to devour books each year but it has been a while since I have been motivated enough to pick a new book (hope I feel like it this year, tho). But recently, fanfic reading has become a form of comfort for me and an activity I do daily (sometimes to the point of messing up my sleeping schedule 😅).

I got curious about how many words I managed to read this year so, I started making some numbers this past week. Turns out, I somehow read 3,422,988 words this year… For perspective, that’s almost 10 times reading Don Quixote by Miguel de Cervantes, the most read novel in my mother tongue. And that is without counting fic rereads (which were plenty this year) and fics that I liked but didn’t save on my phone because I’m not planing to revisit them in the future, so the number might be a bit closer to 5M) I don’t know if it is a lot but I enjoyed every single one of them. Their different combinations reminded me about how much I love stories and reading.

I have rambled many times via tags about how much fanfic meant to me last year (seriously, thank you again fanfic writers of the world, I owe you my sanity this year 💜)

So, now it’s time for me to share my favorite fanfics that I read in 2021 and also my favorite WIPs that I look forward to seeing more from in 2022. They are all from The Old Guard fandom, which is my latest obsession, as many of you know.

List under the cut:

2021 FAVORITES

White Sun Summers by davaia

A beautiful post-canon fic in which Joe and Nicky heal from what happened at Merrick’s. It is full of hurt/comfort which I love and the flashbacks of their past are very well interwoven throughout the story. It is a lovely story and one that I have reread many times.

What Wise Men Fear by itsmylifekay & velociraptorerin

As a fan of Patrick Rothfuss’ novels, this one caught my eye because of the title. The quote fits Nicky so well and the shifting POV is perfect to explore how Nile, Nicky, and Joe experience the events of this fic.

So close that your eyes close (as I fall) by No_Illusions

This one destroyed me but I loved it. I remember I bawled my eyes out and even said so in the comments. I’m only able to read Joe “losing” Nicky if the author promises it is not permanent. And thankfully, that’s the case in this one.

When the Scorched of the Earth Come Back By Sea by BecauseWhateverAtAll

This is a sequel to By a Time to Rise and a Time to Fall, which I read in 2020. I really enjoyed it.

Missed You By a Few Minutes, a Few Centuries by just_another_tinker

This one is widely known and I saw it being recommended here so I gave it a try. Oh boy… The feels, the angst, the pining, the secrets, the found family. Everything about this canon divergence is perfect. I laughed, I cried, I cheered. I also enjoyed the rest of the works of this series (Missed you, in case anyone is interested).

Take me instead by Fuinixe

Febuwhump saw many great entries made by the writers in this fandom but I think this one is my favorite. Nicky protecting Joe from the Spanish Inquisition with the art of deception.

Your Kiss by spacewitchqueen

This one is ultra special to me! I prompted Brielle to write “Kisses when they’re mad” for Joe and Nicky and she came up with this beauty. It takes place in Mexico City (it isn’t outright stated but all the little clues she wrote drove me to that conclusion) and basically has Joe kissing Nicky after the AWFUL day he had while shadowing their latest mark. I still think about this one all the time when I have bad days on the subway. Wish I had my Joe to kiss the troubles away!

I Found Peace in Your Violence by Kiaya

I think this one is the first AU I read in this fandom. I don’t usually do it because I’m not that much of a fan of changing everything around the characters I’m invested in but I have become obsessed with Joe/Nicky to the point where I would read AUs and actually enjoy them. This one was really good, especially a scene in the last chapter that is full of delicious angst between them. I recently reread it because I remember how my heart was crushed by all the fic but that scene in particular and I felt the same way the second time around. It is super well written and oozing yearning!!

Saltwater Sonata by pinstripedJackalope

Another amazing canon-divergence in which Nicky is the one who was thrown in the Iron maiden instead of Quynh. Loved Joe and Nile bonding with each other as they sailed the seas to find Nicky. My favorite chapters are the ones set after they find him and we watch Nile and Joe help Nicky through the aftermath. Planing on rereading this one soon.

On the Threshold of Eternity by Ailendolin

Nicky looking out for Andy through Nile’s POV. As much as I love the Andy&Joe and Nicky&Quynh relationships, I also have a soft spot for Nicky&Andy. And this fic delivers. Family feels ensue.

Time Flies by firbolg_boyfriends

The domesticity and fluff are strong with this one. I think it is one of my favorite fics depicting the Guard in their down time, just doing things for the joy of it. Basically, Nile spending quality time with Joe and Nicky in Spain while she processes the changes in her life. Andy joins them for a lovely scene in the terrace toward the end! It is also one of those fics in which you learn things, so I really loved it!

What God Gave You, He Gave to Me by LittleRedCosette

Where do I even start? This one broke me. It is soooooo well written. It is another canon-divergence, in which Nicky is captured by Merrick Sr. way before Nile becomes immortal. With the help of her dreams, they search for Nicky. Angsty as hell but with a happy ending. I sobbed many times. It is so perfect and it has a sequel (prequel? To Turn From Following) in which we see what was going on with Nicky through the most recent years he was taken via Keane’s POV.

Our Lives Are Colored The Same by DjDangerLove

Yusuf and colors and Nicky helping him find his way back when his memory fails him for a few terrifying moments. It is so soft and speaks volumes about how well they know each other because of everything they have been through together.

Endless Ocean by Isabelle Hemlock & LumusWinter

The longest fic I read this year by far (almost 250k words of my final count come from here). I started this late and also at a time in which I didn’t quite looked out for AUs but I gave this a try because I got curious about what Bodyguard!AUs were about and I do not regret it one bit. I had such a great time reading this fic and I remember waiting impatiently for Wednesdays to see the newest update. I also left some of my longest comments ever after many updates, I just had so much to yell about. It has some great Joe/Nicky moments but it is also very whumpy and angsty, which I really love. I do believe people can heal but it takes time and the people around you to get there.

Sword and Scimitar by TheUsagi1995

Canon-divergence in which Nicky makes Merrick angry with some comment, so he is tortured and brainwashed. Joe frightened for him after they escape made my heart hurt so bad. I could feel his desperation through this writer’s telling of this story. Really good angst all around.

Fight ‘til the day that i die by incurableromancer

This one and its sequel Rendezvous are chef’s kiss when it comes to dialogue and the language used in the writing. I think I haven’t read anything that feels like this before. This AU has Joe as a vigilante and Nicky as a thief who fall in love. Includes some dramatic scenes that seem to have come out of a comic. Super enjoyable from start to finish.

Everything Hurts by Twi_Writes_Sometimes

I always feel lucky when I find a fic that gets Andy right and this one is one of those few. Andy getting used to a body which is no longer immortal and all the conflicting feelings that entails is beautifully explored in this piece and something of which I wish we had more of. The characterization is on point, imo.

The space where things have been by kaydeefalls

After a mission goes slightly wrong, Nile and Joe are left behind. They do a lot of talking with each other on their way to regroup with the others. It is wholesome to read about Nile trying to make peace with her new life and having the others there to offer her counsel. I love them together (my favorite platonic pairing!) and I love them eating huevos rancheros for breakfast on their way to a safe house where they’ll meet the others.

Nowhere i wish to stay crooked by Prevalent_Masters

Lots of things to love in this AU for someone like me who enjoys reading about people with secrets they are unable to divulge to their significant other which causes everything to end up blowing up in their faces. Joe and Nicky fall in love in this one but neither is completely honest about who they say they are. It is angsty, whumpy, kinky, and has very good team dynamics with the rest of our characters. Waiting for each chapter was painful.

Wistful is the rain by dana_norram

Who could have thought I would finally find an A/B/O fic which I actually liked? This one follows the events from the movie, but with extra feelings in every sense of the word. I’m so glad it had such a satisfying and happy ending because my god, I suffered with them because of the dangling axe over their heads, too afraid about it falling down on their hopes like it had happened to them many times in the past.

Make It Last by in_agony_and_ecstasy

It is time for IronMaiden!Joe and woow, the feels are very real. I loved Joe spending time with Booker while learning with him about the new world. The angst between Nicky and him was so good, too. Also, this is the first fic written in first person that I have ever read and it positively surprised me.

Digging in the Sand by Seethedawn

Cute fic exploring Joe’s birth family and how they used to search for crabs in the sand, just like his father had taught him and his sister. It has several time jumps in which Yusuf and his sister reminisce about it.

Empty as that beating drum by raedear

AU in which both Joe and Nicky are spies working for an agency. This whole series is a pining fest but this one is the pinnacle. While on a mission that goes wrong, they find their way to each other. Lots of misunderstandings, declarations, angst, and comfort by the end. I’m starting to feel the need to reread it because it is amazing. Joe using verses from poems as code phrases and Nicky asking him not to because he didn’t want him wasting them on him because he didn’t feel worthy of them makes me feral.

In the sky of a million stars by dolphin_ring

Post-canon fic in which Nicky takes Nile away for some stargazing to help her decompress. Filled with sweet and fluffy feelings.

L’immortalité dans les jardins des Éternels by Eilisande

The first fanfic I ventured reading in French without turning to Google Translate while doing so. It is a Sandman crossover and is a Nile POV fic in which she meets Death. The other immortals share some insight with her and at the end, Death makes her silent promises to them. ‘Ensemble, promit Death à Nicolò di Genova et Yusuf Al-Kaysani’ lives rent free in my mind.

Homeland by addyke

It’s 2005, Joe and Nicky fly to New York to meet with Andy and Booker but prejudices hold them at the airport for a few hours. Joe is patted down, questioned, and held by airport security while Nicky is unable to do much for him. There’s a beautiful scene at the end in which we can see Joe reflecting about the event and what it means for people who look like him, speak the same language as him, and have the same faith as him. It is poignant and so very real to the point it is disappointing but, same as Joe, I have hope in humanity.

Arrows and Bullets by paupaupi

I’m really enjoying this series (Forever & Always) in which Nile doesn’t go back to rescue the others and is approached sometime later by Quynh, who wants Nile to help her rescue the others from Merrick. It follows these two women in their efforts to track down the team while spending time together and teaching each other things. I think this installment is my favorite so far because it has such a feel good feeling to it while also having some deep conversations. Looking forward to more of this series.

Walk Me Through the Fire by Bedalk05

Canon-divergence in which Joe is the newest immortal. It is filled with angst and has some great family moments as Joe starts his life with the Guard. Plus, it is always good to read getting together fics for these two.

Right where you left me by dreamtiwasanarchitect & liadan14

I read this after it was completed and I so regret not giving it a go earlier. Why? Because it had me guessing all the way through and I love experiencing that in the form of regular updates in which I have the time to theorize and feel the cliffhanger’s force. This canon-divergence, in which Joe and Nicky part ways with Andy after helping her search for Quynh only for her to send Nile their way when she becomes immortal a few years into the future, is really well balanced (BDSM also included). I don’t want to say more, in case someone is reading this and wants to be surprised by the twists and turns the authors managed to pull but, it is such a good read. Also, Joe has a fish pond!

My Dearest, Nicolò by LumosFiatLux

This fluffy one shot is one of my favorites because it involves books and Joe/Nicky being saps in front of Nile. Finding things you lost can be cute! It is sweet and funny and I wish it was longer.

The Most Special Beast by beepbeepsan

I swear, this one checks all the boxes in my book for what I love being explored in fics in terms of characters going through horrible stuff. Happily, I was on board since the author started posting and I could experience it with cliffhangers and all. Andy, Quynh, and Yusuf try to track down Nicolò after he parts ways with Yusuf sometime after his first death. The angstiest and whumpiest thing I read all year, without a doubt. The chapter in which Yusuf spends time with Nicolò in his cell while waiting for Quỳnh and Andromache still makes me get goose bumps. It has such a hopeful ending and I wish we get to see another part in the future.

Wounds such as this by BeesKnees

I’ve read countless post-Merrick fics, but I think this one might actually be my favorite. The angst comes in the form of Nicky losing his memories after the shot to his head. Everything comes back to him slowly, hitting him and Joe with full force. Some very good points were made by the author in this fic. All in all, a very good read.

Planning Makes Perfect by mekana47

This one flew under my radar on 2020 but I found it while checking out other works from this author. This thriller sees Joe and Nicky captured while on a mission and highlights the grave mistake of underestimating Nicky. It is one of those rare Outsider POV stories that works perfectly because it is fun to know more than what the outsider knows about what’s going on.

There’s an ache in you (put there by the ache in me) by pittdpeach

AU filled with so much yearning that I’m surprised it didn’t crush me. I think what makes this one a great story is how very real and raw the characters feel. I know we sometimes turn to fanfic to escape reality but I enjoyed reading the messy relationship Joe and Nicky have in this one. I read it in one go because it was so good I couldn’t put it down. The time shifts score this fic bonus points as well as the impeccable writing.

To leave the warmest bed by Squintern

Another poignant AU in which Nicky and Joe are the epitome of idiots to lovers (and not necessarily in that order). Nicky, a travel journalist, comes back to his hometown for Christmas and spends time with Joe, a romantic artist who’s always there for him while wishing the love of his life will finally choose to stay with him. The phrasing of some bits and the writing overall are exquisite.

Because the night by liadan14

I never thought I would enjoy a courtroom drama AU this much but woooow. This one is filled with angst all the way through and I loved the enemies to lovers trope happening between Joe/Nicky because the circumstances they were thrown into made them get closer. This one has it all: Family drama, cliffhangers, twists, betrayal, friendship, shifting POV, great sex scenes, a beautiful ending. All of this while happening during the pandemic (probably the only fic I’ve read which managed to pull that off by entwining it with the story).

Canticum by ishandahalf

My first time reading Nicky as the newest immortal. It was a delicious slow-burn between Joe/Nicky spiced with Nicky having an existencial crisis over his feelings toward Joe and her new place in life. I also loved reading Joe wanting them to be together so bad after so long being alone while not pushing Nicky before he could process the changes in his life. This one also features great found family moments, especially between Nicky and Nile and there’s a scene between Nicky and Andy that I cherish. The writing was just superb, I left many comments stating my favorite lines from each chapter. Bonus points for stained glass maker Joe !

Home again by demonicneonfishy

This one gave Andy and Quynh the soft reunion they deserve and I really enjoyed how Andy thought she was dreaming/hallucinating Quynh while she was sick only for Nicky to tell her it wasn’t a dream and that she is really there. Beautifully written, too!

TOG Round Robin 2021 by beepbeepsan, dana_norram, goldheartedsky, mekana47, Zephineange.

The last fic I read last year. This is a beautiful exploration of several winter holidays celebrated by the members of the Guard through the years in the form of stories told to Nile. I enjoyed how diverse it was and how close these characters are to each other. It is always good to have some down time.

WIPs I want to read more of in 2022

Because this is getting ridiculously long, I’m just going to list them but know that I have a lot of feelings about them:

The Vanish Zone by Waid

Nor Earth Nor Boundless Sea by Anonymous

See you in your dreams by flightofwonder

If Never Again, If Every Day by gallifreyburning, takiki16

Scene by Scene by mekana47

A Cold War by just_a_winchester

Elevator Song by just_another_tinker

Until the End by ManicRavingsofaLunatic

It Takes An Age by deanniker

Lights Out by Avelera

Shine a Little Light by pavlovee

As certain dark things are to be loved by demonicneonfishy

The Old Guard-Rhyme Time by OldGuardianNewTricks

#tog fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #reading #2021 year in review #i’m still surprised by how many fics I read this year #thank you from the bottom of my heart fanfic writers of the world 💜💜💜#it was a blast!#nara reads #tog fandom #the old guard

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hellowkatey · 3 years

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Febuwhump Day 10

Prompt: “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

Read on AO3

Ghosts of the Past

"And med supplies?" Obi-Wan asks, glancing up from his datapad. "How are our bacta levels?"

"Good, sir," Cody nods.

"Yes, I suppose we've had a good streak going. Okay, now fuel levels?"

"Half tank."

"Weapons?"

"Forty units short, I believe."

Obi-Wan nods and types the order into the datapad.

"Alright, then the last things on the supply lists are..." he trails off as a strange feeling washes over him. He looks up, his eyes scanning the hanger. Troopers mill about in the usual bustle of days where there are no battles, just some administrative duties, and down-time. He can feel Cody staring at him, and is about to ignore the feeling when he spots a non-military ship on the other side of the hanger.

It's a modest ship, but it's not the vessel that is bothering him. Two mechanical troopers talk to a man standing next to the ship. From this distance, Obi-Wan can't quite see the man, but he can feel him.

In the Force, this person is familiar in a way that causes chills to run down his spine and the distant sound of bombs exploding to echo in his mind.

"Sir, is something wrong?" Cody asks, and Obi-Wan's head snaps back to him. He points across the hanger to a ship and a small group of humans talking to the mechanic clones.

"Do we have visitors?"

"Uh, diplomats I believe. Requested to land for maintenance on their cooling system. Is there a problem?"

Obi-Wan doesn't answer him, just hands him the datapad with the supply orders and starts to walk in their direction. He doesn't know what he hopes to accomplish he just... has to find out.

He weaves through the various groups of troopers, only giving himself time to nod as they salute in his presence. The closer he gets to the man the better his view gets and the greater the buzzing in his stomach grows. Though Cody described him as a diplomat, he isn't dressed as so. He wears modest travel clothes and boots that are nearly as beat up as Obi-Wan's. The only true indication that he is some sort of political leader is the golden pin that secures his dark green cloak.

The man brushes his fingers through his short brown hair, pushing it off to the side, his dark eyes flickering up to meet Obi-Wan's.

And he stops dead in the center of the aisle, his entire body feeling numb and his throat tight. He must look like he's seen a ghost because a moment later he feels Cody's hand gently touching him at the elbow.

"General?" Cody sounds worried, which is enough to get Obi-Wan to tear his eyes away from the face of a man who might as well be a ghost. He doesn't know what to say to his commander, who is looking back and forth between him and their guest.

A guest that just handed his datapad to the mechanical clones and now approaches them.

Obi-Wan generally considers himself well prepared for most situations that may be thrown at him. War has taught him a lot about always being ready for a fight or a hasty retreat, and how to properly read a situation to decide which is appropriate.

But now, Obi-Wan is at a loss. All he can do is stand there as a piece of his past he never thought would be dug up again walks right up to him.

"I take it you're the Jedi General," he says in a thick Outer Rim accent. "I thank you for your hospitality in allowing us to get repairs."

"It is fortunate we were on your route, I suppose," he smiles weakly. "Where are you coming from?"

"Right, I haven't introduced myself, apologies," he bows respectfully. "I am Representative Nield of Melidaan."

Nield. Oh, Nield. No wonder the Force felt so familiar and so heavy. He hardly looks different than he did three decades ago-- just a bit older, but time has been kind to him.

"Melidaan?"

"Outer Rim. We've avoided this war so far so I'm surprised you haven't heard of us... though that's not an invitation."

"Of course not. I just..." It's obvious Nield doesn't recognize him, and a part of him is hesitant to reveal his identity. They did not exactly part on friendly terms, and Obi-Wan doesn't have the same face he did when he was thirteen. But there is a curiosity there he can't help. He wants to know what happened after he left the Young in their victory. "I hadn't realized the name was changed."

Nield blinks. "What did you say your name was, general?"

The moment of truth. "Obi-Wan Kenobi."

Now Representative Nield looks as though he's seen a ghost. His jaw literally drops, eyes growing wide. He reaches out, looking as though he is going to cup his cheeks before resting on his shoulders and Obi-Wan sees Cody flinch out of the corner of his eye.

"Obi-Wan?" Nield says, barely above a whisper. Suddenly it is like they are thirteen again, two of the oldest among a group of children fighting for peace. "How the hell did they drag you into another war?"

__________

Cody watched as the men embraced-- Nield, he called himself. A political leader from Melidaan. Cody has never heard of that planet, but General Kenobi appeared to be familiar with it. Somehow he is also familiar with this Nield despite looking uncharacteristically petrified by his presence. It made Cody nervous that maybe this would be some sort of old enemy that they mistakenly cleared, but now that he examines the men talking quietly to one another, he realizes they look at one another in the same way his brothers do.

How the hell did they drag you into another war?

He didn't know General Kenobi had been in another war-- in fact, nothing in his knowledge of recent Republic history indicates there were any other major wars fought unless he found himself in a small scale one. Though, General Kenobi is often talking about how foreign it is to be a soldier when Jedi training is to be a peacekeeper. He has given no indication that he has a history of being a veteran, but it would explain how he is so skilled with battle strategy.

Cody thinks about this as he heads to the mess to find a cup of caff. It's late in the evening, but new orders have come in that he has to prepare for.

Unsurprisingly, General Kenobi seems to have come to the same conclusion. Cody finds him pouring his own mug.

"We seem to always be on the move," the general says with a weak smile as Cody walks up next to him to grab his own mug.

"Did they mistake us for General Skywalker again?"

He chuckles, moving out of the way so Cody can pour his own mug. "I believe Anakin and the 501st will also be joining us."

"Yes sir, I saw. Rex sent me a comm as soon as he found out."

"It's been a while since we've seen them, I'm sure the men will enjoy the reunion. Hopefully, we can get some more reprieve after as well."

They start walking back toward the briefing room, caff and a few ration bars in hand. Speaking of reunions...

"Was your visit with Representative Nield... enjoyable, sir?"

"I did not expect to see him again. The last time I saw him he was quite adamant about how much he hated me."

He looks at the Jedi with surprise. "I wouldn't have guessed, sir."

"We were young. Headstrong and passionate about what we believed in."

"You met him on Melidaan?"

"In a way," General Kenobi's pleasant disposition clouds. "Back then it was called Melida/Daan, though. I assume you heard him marvel at how I ended up in another war?"

Cody nods, suddenly feeling as though he is impeding on the privacy of General Kenobi's past. He opens his mouth to assure him he has nothing to explain and it is none of his business, but then the Jedi is talking.

"The Melida and the Daan were two groups on this planet stuck in a bloody civil war. They hated one another so vehemently they couldn't decide on a name for their planet, so the Republic eventually gave up and hyphenated. A Jedi was sent there to try and facilitate peace, but she was captured. Qui-Gon and I were sent to extract her."

General Kenobi stops outside the briefing room, leaning his back against the wall. "The Master was taken by a third group-- the children of the Melida and the Daan who were fed up with the fighting. They called themselves the Young. Nield was one of the Young, which is how we met."

"So the Jedi stayed to help?"

He tucks his arms into the billowing sleeves of his cloak, exhaling deeply "Not the Jedi, no. Qui-Gon had to get the injured Master back to the Temple, and we had no jurisdiction to fight their war. I was given a choice, and I felt my place was to help the Young."

There's a tightness to his words that doesn't go over Cody's head. His time in the war is obviously not something he has talked much about-- he's never even heard it referred to, and they are certainly in the context in which it would come up. Cody has learned General Kenobi isn't usually keen on talking about himself. He seldom mentions his master, and talks even less about his apprenticeship. He doesn't want to push the subject, but something is nagging at him...

"How old were you, sir?"

General Kenobi looks from the spot he fixated on behind Cody's shoulder to making eye contact. He doesn't say anything for a moment, and Cody has a horrible feeling about the answer.

"Thirteen," he mutters. Were the corridor not empty, he may not have heard it at all.

"Thirteen? They left a kid alone to fight a war?"

"I was one of the oldest among the Young, actually."

He says this as though that doesn't make things all the more horrifying. Cody feels bad enough when the shinies come through, barely ten standard years, but at least they have the bodies of grown men. But true kids? An army of children younger than Commander Tano?

"Pardon me for speaking freely, sir, but the Jedi allowed this? Your master let you stay in a war zone?"

"Well I..." he looks at Cody in a way he has never seen General Kenobi look before. There is this deep sadness behind his bright eyes that reminds him that he is not just a High General and a Jedi Master. "Cody, the choice I made was between going back with Qui-Gon, or leaving the Jedi Order."

Cody's throat goes dry. Suddenly his vague references to choices and the Jedi not being involved make sense, and dammit, he shouldn't have been so dense to make him spell it out. "I'm sorry. I didn't know..."

"Cody," General Kenobi says with a kind smile that Cody doesn't feel he deserves. "You couldn't have known. To be honest, and I'm not proud of it, not even Anakin or Ahsoka know."

"Sir, then why tell me?"

He shrugs. "I trust you with my life, commander, why not with my teenage war stories, too."

Cody is relieved to see a glimpse of the usual dry-humored General Kenobi coming back through, but he still is at a loss of words from all of this.

"In all seriousness," General Kenobi continues, "I don't often think about my apprenticeship. Anakin has me to remind him about all his embarrassing moments, but I usually don't have to face my past like I did today," he pauses. "Can I ask your advice, Cody?"

"I'm not sure what help I could be, sir, but sure."

"Should I tell Anakin about Melida/Daan?"

Cody is certainly not qualified to give padawan parenting advice, but the general doesn't seem to care. He tries to consider if he has any relatable experiences in his short life, but clones were not raised with such individualized instruction. But he does remember nights spent with his batchmates, talking about anything and everything to pass the time. And when he sees Rex again they will try to find a time to sit down with glasses of brew, talking about every dumb plan Skywalker implemented and how it somehow worked out for the best and continuing their count of stupidly self-sacrificing things Kenobi does that threatens to give the entire 212th a heart attack.

He always considered the Jedi to be like little families-- families that train each other to be excellent warriors, but families nonetheless. In a way, the clones have adopted that familial mindset as well. With the galaxy unsure of what to do with them, they at least have one another to get through it all.

So maybe he does know a thing or two.

"It can't hurt, sir. It's probably something Skywalker would want to know about."

"Oh yes," the Jedi Master muses. "He was outraged when he found out about the time got to ride a varactyl for a royal a hunting party."

Cody raises an eyebrow. "Sir?"

He smiles, shaking his head. "A story for another time, Cody."

#febuwhump #febuwhumpday10 #im sorry i didn't know #really going for the last minute aren't i #obi-wan kenobi #commander cody #i wrote as gen #but feel free to consider it codywan if you so desire

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sola-whumping · 3 years

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Febuwhump: Mind Control Essay

Introduction

One of the best methods of whump, in my opinion, is mind control. There’s so much you can do with it and so many ways it can be used. When people think of mind control they might think of the normal blank stare and unfeeling protagonist being controlled like a puppet by the villain, but there is so much more that can be done with it. So today, we will be getting in to all mind control has to offer, or at least a few methods.

Introduction 2

To begin I’ll be going over some of the ways you can induce mind control in a whumpee. The four main ways (that I can think of) would be superpowers, tech, manipulation, and magic. Each come with their own uses and strengths and have a slightly different style of putting your whumpee under. Rather then going though each and every way you can use it in detail like I usually do with Whumper Weekly, I’ll instead list a few that would work well with each style and make a series on mind control later since it is such a big topic.

Body Paragraph 1

The first method of mind control I’d like to start with is using super powers. There’s many ways to go about this, looking your whumpee in the eye to activate it, having your power be activated by touch, or even being able to induce a trance by being in close enough proximity would make your whumper powerful and fluid enough in the use of it that they can pull it off without anyone else noticing. This method is the easiest to use for kidnapping your whumpee on the fly by convincing them to follow you or to alter their mind and memories to become a hazy fog, letting you control their actions. I find that this method is the best for making your whumpee betray their friends since it provides a disconnect between them and their actions.

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Tech is what we see in a lot of sci-fi movies. It’s the mind control buttons or the pins or clips. Things that stick to skin and clothes and take control of the neural network and use it. They are always built by someone clever, you perhaps, and used on those beneath them. Sometimes that tech helps the creator to advance to something akin to a God, controlling cities at at time. And other times it’s specialized to control one specific person, which in and of itself is an art. It’s a form of complete control that can shift loyalties or change a person completely, or even just suppress who they once were to reprogram their thoughts and opinions. Whatever it’s used for, it’s sure to be clever.

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Manipulation is a tactic almost anyone can use- if they’re good enough. For this method inducing the trance is key, you must have a good introduction and a fluid transition to pull your whumpee under, as well as the right word choice to lull them into a sense of security or to trick them into giving up control. This is the kind of mind control street magicians will use for shows and tricks but it can also be used to slowly alter someone’s perspective. There’s a bit of psychology behind manipulation and whether it’s conditioning or something else it can be very useful to develop behaviors and beliefs in other people.

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Magic is very similar to powers but it can also be vastly different in its uses. Any kind of magic needs either an item or a person to work and direct it, though, there have been cases where it has come alive on its own. An enchanted stone necklace could be used to control a whumpee as an example of an object. Or a sorcerer could enchant an enemy into bending to their will, an obvious example of a person controlling magic. Magic can even reside in a place that causes anyone to enter it to be subjected to control which is a lovely portrayal of sentient magic on its own. It can even be triggered by touching a magic gemstone that takes control of the protagonist, though this sounds a bit more like the game holds magic in itself and can be linked to our first example. Whatever method of magic you use make sure you read through the books on it and study it’s art well. Magic can be dangerous, wild, and untamed. Make sure you control it and control it well or it can kill you.

Conclusion

The creativity of any of these methods is up to the user and the user alone, the mind is infinite and has no limits aside from the ones you set for yourself. Be free and make sure to use your control over others well. Just make sure you don’t lose yourself in the process. Absolute power corrupts absolutely- though, that is a problem for the future. For now you are young and powerful with the world at your fingertips. Make sure to use it. (Call to action)

@febuwhump

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#febuwhump #febuwhumpday1 #mind control #whump #whump prompts #whump trope #in this essay i will #manipulative whumper #whump essay

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suttttton · 3 years

Text

The Mage of the Castle and the Mage of the Cavern

Written for Febuwhump, Day 3: Imprisonment

***

The guards come for Jon while he’s sleeping, and it’s only when he is gagged and bound and slung over one of their shoulders, being carried down an endless staircase, that he starts to stir. Even then, awareness comes to him slowly, his mind sluggish. It won’t occur to him until much later that he has been drugged.

Still, Jon does eventually realize what’s happening. He fights against his captor’s grip, but the man’s arms are strong and unyielding. Good thing, too—Jon realizes belatedly that breaking his captor’s hold on him would only lead to a bad fall and bruises for him.

“He’s awake,” the man carrying him grunts.

“Stay sharp,” a second voice answers. Jon looks up, and there is a second guard walking behind them. The staircase is dimly lit, but Jon can just make out Jonah’s crest prominently displayed on her uniform.

Jon tries to ask her what’s happening, where they’re taking him and why. But his words are hopelessly muffled by the gag in his mouth.

The woman’s mouth crooks into a smile. “Told you the gag was a good idea.”

The man shifts Jon on his shoulder. “I still think we should have followed our orders exactly.”

Orders? What orders? From who? These guards are wearing Jonah’s crest, but surely their ‘orders’ didn’t come from him. They must be traitors, then, or, or spies. Taking him hostage, to be held for ransom.

(Or tortured. Or killed. Jonah has plenty of enemies who might want to enact vengeance by harming his beloved.)

Jon doesn’t let himself think of that. Instead, he focuses on taking in as many details as he can. It’s not an encouraging sign that the guards chose not to hide their faces, but Jon resolves to make them regret that fact. He’ll escape this, make it back to Jonah.

(How did they get him out of Jonah’s private rooms? How did they get past Jonah’s wards? Is Jonah alright, is he safe?)

It doesn’t matter. Jon has to believe that Jonah is fine. There’s no point in keeping Jon, otherwise. Unless—No. Jon refuses to waste his energy on idle fantasies. He watches the guards. He watches the stone walls, twisting down deeper and deeper into the ground. He counts their steps, and when he loses count he counts the torch sconces on the walls. When he loses count of those, he pays attention to the quality of the stone, which is getting less and less impressive as they go deeper.

They reach a door, and the guard holding Jon lets go with one arm to open it. The door is bolted shut with a beam of heavy iron, and the second guard has to help him lift it. Dread pools in Jon’s stomach as they carry him into the room.

It’s a vast cavern, dimly lit, although not by any natural means. It’s largely empty, nothing but a stone floor and blank stone walls. At the center of the room is a massive rock, with two iron shackles connected to it by long chains.

Jon fights the guards as they attach the chains—his pride will allow nothing else—but he knows it’s fruitless. Either of the guards could handle him on their own, and there are two of them. They untie his hands, and the woman holds him down easily as the other places the shackles on his wrists.

Only when he’s so restrained do they untie his feet, allowing him to stand. And then… They leave him there, chained to the rock. The door closes behind them, and he hears the iron bar swing down with a loud thunk.

He’s alone. Still gagged, more trapped than he was before. His breath begins to come faster as he starts to panic. He doesn’t know why he’s here, he doesn’t know what to do, he—

No. Panicking is not going to help. He has to hold on to his composure, no matter how difficult it is. He takes a deep breath. Another. His breathing is still shaky, but it’s better.

He sits down for a little while, thinks. Takes everything he knows about what is happening, and arranges them, negatives and positives.

Negatives: There is most likely nothing he can do for himself in this situation, chained and trapped as he is. He is hidden far underground, in a prison that is likely shielded from magic. He is entirely at the mercy of the traitorous guards that brought him here, as well as whichever party gave them their orders.

Positives: Jonah will look for him, if he hasn’t started already, and he won’t stop until he’s found him. If Jon can stay calm until that happens, he’s in a perfect position to obtain information about Jonah’s enemies. And… Maybe his captors made a mistake in chaining him to the stone.

The chains are heavy, but if Jon can break them, he will have a decent weapon to attack the next person that opens the door. They’ll have to come back, if only to give him food. And when they do, Jon can swing his chains at them and escape.

Jon examines every inch of the chains, but they are solid. Even the place where they are driven into the stone is magically fused. There is no way to break them.

Jon sits down again.

(Jonah will come for him.)

***

It’s two days later, as far as Jon can tell. Jon lays on the cold floor, too exhausted to even shiver anymore. He’s thirsty, and hungry, and it seems increasingly likely that he’s been left to die in here.

The door opens, and Jon’s eyes snap towards it. He sits up, heart pounding with something between hope and fear.

And then he sees who has entered his prison, and Jon forces himself to his feet, feeling the most acute relief he’s ever had. It’s Jonah, of course it is, Jonah.

Jonah approaches him, and as soon as he’s close enough, Jon throws his arms around him, careful not to hit him with the chains. He buries his face in Jonah’s shoulder, torn between laughing and crying. He’s so happy, so relieved. (He’d been so scared.)

Jonah’s hands go to Jon’s hair, softly carding through it. Jon melts with it, letting himself relax. He can’t wait to go home, for this nightmare to finally be over.

Jonah pulls away, unties and removes the gag. “There now,” he says, tracing his thumb softly over Jon’s cheek. “I did ask them not to gag you.”

“Jonah, I—” Jon stops, his heart stuttering as he realizes what Jonah just said. “What?” his voice sounds faint.

“I was hoping to avoid this, to be honest. I wanted you to Ask them, for them to explain all this to you.” His hand slides down to Jon’s wrist, over the shackle there. “I really hate seeing you like this. But I couldn’t leave you down here without an explanation.”

Jon can’t—think, his heart is too loud, his breath is too loud. He can hardly hear himself say, “What are you talking about? Jonah, I haven’t done anything!”

Jonah looks fond. “Dear Jonathan. Of course you haven’t. This isn’t about you at all.”

“Then—then—” What’s happening? Why is Jonah doing this?

“Ask me,” Jonah says.

“Jonah, no, I—” Jon doesn’t compel Jonah. He doesn’t. He loves Jonah, he trusts him, there’s no need—

“I want you to know that I am telling you the truth,” Jonah says. His voice is gentle.

Jon swallows. When he speaks, his voice is shaky. “Why are you doing this?”

Jonah closes his eyes, feeling the compulsion wash over him. He inhales, breathing it in deeply. He opens his eyes again, looking straight at Jon and they are still fond, but there is something—cold, in them. Something that sends a spike of fear through Jon’s stomach, that causes his chest to tighten.

“I find myself in a precarious position, Jon,” Jonah begins. “I have many enemies, and few resources to prevent those enemies from encroaching on the few holdings I possess. Given my disinheritance, I also don’t have any bonds of family loyalty to rely on in case one of my enemies gets greedy.

“I need power. Not the kind that comes from a massive army, because I simply don’t have enough subjects to throw into military service. I need the kind of power that an individual can possess. The kind of power that can only come from magic.”

They’ve discussed this before. How to consolidate power through magical means. It’s been the center of their studies since they’ve known each other, but—

“I know you’re confused,” Jonah says. “I’ve been working on a theory, recently, based on our studies of various kinds of emotional magic.”

Jon remembers those studies, but they didn’t yield anything conclusive. Emotional magic in general is more powerful than non-emotional magic, but as far as they could tell, no particular emotion was stronger than the others. And all forms were much harder to control.

“There’s something you don’t know,” Jonah says. “Since we began that research, I’ve been running my own experiments. I had this room constructed in secret, and I confirmed what I already suspected to be true—fear is by far the strongest emotion with which to cast magic. The tradeoff, however, as I’m sure you already guessed, is wild unpredictability. So, I began a new experiment: Is it possible to cast magic fueled by the emotions of another?”

Some kind of despair rises in Jon’s throat as he begins to see where Jonah is going. But he refuses to believe it. Jonah can’t—Jonah wouldn’t—

“The experiments were a success, with a single caveat: the strength of the magic I could cast with another’s fear directly correlated to the strength of the magic they could cast themself. I could become the most powerful mage of our age by far, but I would need another strong mage to act as a sort of... battery. And, well—” Jonah looks around the room, then back at Jon. “Here we are.”

“Jonah, that—What? You can’t be serious.”

“I am serious,” Jonah says. “This room is charmed, to keep you alive, no matter what. You won’t die for lack of food, or water. Any wounds you sustain will heal quickly. And age won’t be able to touch you. In spite of that, however, I’m afraid this will be a rather unpleasant experience for you. In order to be an effective battery, you must spend most of your time afraid. You’ll be alone, for the rest of your life, trapped here with nothing and no one to save you.”

Jon swallows, a hard lump forming in his throat. “You’re just—you’re just leaving me here? How—” How could you? He wants to ask, but that sounds horribly naive, now. He doesn’t know if he should laugh, or cry, or scream. He’s split between heartbreak and fear, and he can’t—

Jonah looks at him for a long moment as Jon tries to think of anything to say, and then he turns away. “Goodbye, Jon,” he says. And then he starts back toward the door. Leaving Jon—here.

“Jonah,” Jon says, starting after him, his voice breaking. “Jonah, don’t—Please, please Jonah, don’t leave me here, don’t—”

The chains clank, reaching their limit, and Jon strains against them. Jonah is leaving, and he can’t, he, he, he—

Jonah turns back, and something like hope stutters in Jon’s chest. His arms are pulled back behind him by the chains, his chest heaving with his too-fast breaths, desperate fallen tears wetting his cheeks. Jonah comes back to him, cards a hand through Jon’s hair. He places his hand against the back of Jon’s head, one finger scratching at his hairline. Then he leans forward, pressing his forehead to Jon’s.

“I will miss you,” he says, and then he lets go.

“Jonah,” Jon says, but Jonah doesn’t react in the slightest. “Jonah, don’t do this,” Jon tries again. Jonah reaches the door, and something in Jon breaks. “No, no, no, no, Jonah, please, please Jonah, no—”

Jonah opens the door, and Jon is screaming now. “Jonah, please—”

The door swings closed, and Jonah is gone.

Thunk.

Jon is locked in.

Forever.

It’s silent now, except for Jon, whose stuttering breaths sound very, very loud. They’re coming too fast, and he knows that, but what does it even matter?

Jon falls to his knees, his entire body trembling. His arms ache where they’re pulled so harshly behind him, but that doesn’t matter either, does it?

Jon is alone. No one is coming to save him.

Jon lets himself panic.

***

It’s intolerable, being trapped all alone in the dark. It’s intolerable, but after the first few days, after the thirst and hunger and aching cold and heartbreak all fade, it becomes a numb kind of intolerable. Jon lays on the floor, staring at nothing, drifting in and out of sleep.

It’s peaceful, in its own way. He thinks this might be what death is like, and he finds a bit of solace in the thought.

Then Jonah starts sending him visitors.

The first time the door opens, Jon’s heart surges with a manic sort of joy. Perhaps Jonah’s had a change of heart, perhaps he’s being rescued from this prison.

But the man who comes through the door is not Jonah. And he is not here to rescue Jon.

The visitors are all different, but they all hurt him. Slowly delivered cuts and deep, painful burns, and bruises upon bruises upon bruises.

His wounds heal quickly, but the fear remains. His dreams are unpleasant, his waking hours no better. He watches the door, constantly fearful of the next moment it will open, bringing some fresh pain with it.

No one comes to save him.

***

The visitors stop, and Jon doesn’t get an explanation. They have stopped, Jon is sure about that. For a long time, he thought Jonah was just letting him fester for a little while. Giving him a break from the pain while Jonah himself rested between battles, between campaigns.

But it’s been months now. Years, maybe. And no one has come.

He isn’t less afraid. He keeps wondering if Jonah has something worse than the visitors planned, something that Jon can’t even imagine. Even that is better than wondering if Jonah has just forgotten about him.

The thought brings him to tears, and Jon hates himself for it. Hates himself for missing Jonah, hates himself for how often he fantasizes about curling up beside him in the early morning, Jonah’s fingers combing through his hair, their bed soft and warm.

It’s so cold in the cavern.

One day, one of Jon’s chains breaks. One of the links just… crumbles to dust, leaving him with a heavy shackle connected to a rusty chain that isn’t attached to anything.

The other chain breaks not long after that. It doesn’t matter. The door is still bolted shut. Thunk. Jon tries it, just to be sure, and he works himself into a panic attack trying to force his way through the door. He didn’t think he had any panic left in him.

Still, it’s… better, sort of, being able wander the cavern at will. He wonders idly if Jonah will send someone to fix the chains. He remembers his plan, from so long ago, and practices swinging the chains around, trying to make them as lethal of weapons as possible.

He can only practice for a short time before he needs to rest, but it’s nice to be doing something. It’s nice to have a plan.

Then he swings the chain badly, carelessly. It hits his knee hard, and he falls to the floor, seized with fresh, sharp pain. Broken. It heals quickly, of course, but he’s still lying there for hours (days?) waiting for the agony to end.

He gives up practicing. It’s obvious by now that no one is coming.

A few weeks (months? years?) later, the iron has degraded enough Jon is able to pull most of the chain away from his shackles, leaving behind just a few useless links. It’s better, marginally, than dragging the long chains behind him.

He continues to be alone for a long, long time.

No one comes.

***

Voices.

Jon opens his eyes a crack, but the cavern is still just empty. The door is closed. Just his imagination, then. A dream, got too loud. He closes his eyes again, tries to get back to sleep.

The voices get louder, and now Jon can hear footsteps. Outside the door, getting closer.

His heart rate picks up, and he presses himself closer against the cold stone behind him. His hand drifts toward his chain, but by this point it’s so degraded that it won’t make much of a weapon.

If it’s a visitor, they’d probably enjoy watching him try to defend himself. It isn’t good, when they enjoy themselves.

But if it’s Jonah—

Jon dismisses the thought. It won’t be Jonah.

They’re more than one, judging by the noises outside. Grunting, straining. Struggling with the bolt on the door.

There’ve never been multiple visitors before. Jon swallows, shrinking into himself in fear. He should have known that this was only a break, that Jonah would eventually bring him more pain, worse pain.

The door swings open, and there are three that step through. He doesn’t recognize any of them, although they all look like people. Once, Jon would have taken comfort in that.

It takes a little while for them to spot Jon, hidden as he is in the shadow of the stone. They’re clearly impressed by the vastness of the cavern, talking excitedly to each other. One of them has a notepad that she is scribbling furiously onto.

The shortest one spots him first, followed by the one with a sword at his hip. They both nudge the notepad one, and then three pairs of eyes are trained directly on him. They look like he’s doing something wrong, by being here, and he shrinks deeper into himself, wrapping his arms tightly around his ribs.

All three of them move forward, and Jon lets out a sharp gasp of fear. He can’t do this, not again, he can’t take it.

They stop, and the shorter one murmurs something to the other two. Then he approaches, alone.

He crouches down a few paces from Jon, well out of arms’ reach. It’s meant to put Jon more at ease, but Jon knows that distance isn’t necessarily protection from the kinds of things that visit him. “Hello,” he says, his voice soft.

Jon doesn’t respond, just keeps watching him closely while also keeping an eye on his friends. When they decide to attack, it will not come as a surprise to him.

“I’m Martin,” he says. “What’s your name?”

Ah, so they’re that kind. The kind whose torment comes from names and identity, confusion. Jon isn’t going to make their game easier for them.

“Okay,” Martin says, if if Jon had actually given him an answer. “That’s Tim and Sasha,” he gestured to the other two, who both smiled when he looked over. “Um, we’re researchers?” Martin continued. “Well, Sasha is, anyway. We’re studying the ruins here, comparing the surviving architectural details to the extant descriptions of various homes that belonged to the Lukas estate. And uh—” he laughs, but not with humor. It’s higher-pitched, almost manic. “We really weren’t expect to find any living things, other than mice, so you’ve given us a bit of a shock.”

Jon just stares at him. What is he talking about? Researchers? Are they trying to get his guard down by—by confusing him?

“We don’t want to hurt you,” Martin says, raising his hands.

Jon can’t help it; he laughs at that. Do they really think he’s that stupid?

A complicated expression passes across Martin’s face. “Well, it’s at least good to know that you understand what I’m saying,” he mutters. He looks away, drums his fingers on his wrist a few times. Then he looks back at Jon. “It’s fine if you don’t trust us, but—can you at least tell us how you got here? Just, if there’s a group of, of bandits or something that hang around here, we’d rather be prepared for it.”

Jon narrows his eyes, looking from Martin to Tim and Sasha. What is the point of these questions? They know why he’s down here. They wouldn’t be here, otherwise.

“Right,” Martin sighs at his silence. “Listen, are you okay to walk? I mean, it’s a lot of stairs back to the surface, and I don’t want you to exhaust yourself, but—”

“To the surface?” Jon interrupts. His voice is rough from disuse, and he hardly recognizes it. “You, what—You’re taking me out?”

Martin nods. “I mean, not—Unless you’d rather stay here? We’re not kidnapping you or anything, but—”

Jon tunes him out, can’t listen anymore over the sudden buzzing in his ears. Jon—Jon doesn’t know what to do. What is this? A trap, or a test, or—

“Where is Jonah?” Jon demands, compulsion flowing from his mouth without him thinking about it, without meaning to. He didn’t know he even could, anymore.

But Martin is just blinking at him. “I don’t know. I don’t know who that is.”

Jon’s mouth is dry. “Who sent you here?”

“No one. I told you, we’re researchers. We came of our own accord, and found this cavern on accident.”

Jon’s heart is pounding, loud, loud, loud. “I don’t—Who is Lord of this castle?” Martin had said Lukas’ name earlier, hadn’t he? Was he the current Lord?

“No one,” Martin says. “The castle’s been abandoned for thirteen hundred years, at least. It’s not really even a castle anymore, just ruins.”

Jon stares at him, swaying slightly, feeling as if the entire floor has been pulled out from under him. Thirteen hundred years. He opens his mouth, closes it. What else is there to even ask?

Jon lets out a sharp laugh, then claps a hand over his mouth before it can turn to a sob. He muffles a harsh whimpering noise, then takes a deep breath, collecting himself. He feels fragile. He feels numb.

He pulls himself to his feet, and starts walking toward the door, chains still jingling around his wrists.

“Alright then,” he hears Martin mutter, getting up and following after him.

Tim and Sasha don’t stop him as he passes by them, although he does hear Martin stop and exchange a few words with them. Then he hears three sets of footsteps, following him.

Getting up the stairs is an ordeal. There are a lot of them, and he doesn’t have the stamina to get up more than ten at a time. At one point, Martin offers to carry him, but Jon doesn’t dignify that offer with more than a glare.

Eventually, they make it all the way up the stairs, and Jon sees—the place that once was his home. Except it’s different now. The tapestries are all gone, along with some of the walls. The soft, luxurious rugs have been replaced by creeping moss and weeds.

He finds the stairs, and begins the painstaking journey to the second level. The three start to follow him, but he stops them with a glare. “Please,” he says, and to their credit, they stay behind.

He goes to the bedroom, what’s left of it, where he would lay for hours, safe in Jonah’s arms. (Where Jonah betrayed him.) The bed is gone, of course, and tree branches creep in through the window where he once sat watching the sunset.

He lays down in the spot where the bed once was. Thirteen hundred years. Thirteen hundred years, plus however long before that he was already imprisoned. Thirteen hundred years, all alone, and Jon didn’t even know it.

Jon curls his arms around himself, arms that haven’t been near enough comfort for centuries now. He doesn’t want to see Jonah again, except for how he so desperately does. He wants warmth, comfort, safety. He wants his home back. He wants for none of this to have ever happened.

He lets himself cry, and for the first time in such a long time, it’s a choice that actually matters.

***

He wakes up, and it’s dark. Not the dim-dark of the cavern, but a new kind of dark. A moonlit darkness. He looks out the window, and through the canopy of trees overhead, he can see stars.

Oh.

He’s forgotten about stars.

He heads back downstairs, and to his surprise, the three are still waiting for him. They’re seated on the floor, a lantern lit between them. Tim and Martin are talking in a low voice, heads dipped together. Sasha is laying on her belly, scribbling on her notepad.

The conversation stops when he enters the room, the four of them all just staring at each other.

Jon feels awkward, all of a sudden. It’s been so long since he’s had to talk to people. He doesn’t know what to say, where to begin.

But Martin saves him from that. He smiles at him, says, “Hey.”

“Hello,” Jon says, trying a small smile of his own.

Tim stretches, yawning massively. “Right, well now that we’ve got this one, how about heading back to the hotel?”

“Sounds great,” Sasha says, flipping her notebook shut.

“Uh,” Martin looks at Jon. “How do you feel about that? Are you okay with leaving?”

“Not permanently,” Tim says. “Just to sleep somewhere where there are actual beds.”

“Yes, that sounds—fine,” Jon says.

They lead him outside, and he shivers in the cold nighttime air. He’s well-used to the cold by now, but Martin notices.

“Here,” he says, holding out the soft blue cloak he’s been wearing around his shoulders. “I don’t want you to be cold.”

Jon takes it, a little hesitantly, and wraps it around his shoulders. It’s warm, and more than that, it’s soft. Jon wants to sink into the feeling, revel in it forever. But they’re still moving, so he keeps following.

Jon expects that they will have horses, and is a bit shocked to see their ‘car.’ He swallows his questions about it, taking a seat beside Martin. He can’t stop himself from flinching when the engine roars to life, but after that it’s—nice. It’s warm, inside the car, and he leans against the window, bunching up Martin’s cloak to use as a pillow.

He drifts off, warm and safe and surrounded people who will eventually become a new home.

#tma #tma fic #febuwhump #febuwhumpday3 #my fic #jonelias #fantasy au #kidnapping cw #chains cw #emotional torture cw #violence cw #injury cw #broken bone cw #time cw #abusive relationship cw

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