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helaelaemond · 9 months

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To Be Strangers

gif by @barbieaemond

Pairing: Tom Bennett x female reader

Word count: 2.6k

Summary: You're standing on the dock overlooking the ships in the small hours, and a certain new recruit notices you - he can't help it. He charms you - or at least that's what you want him to think - and together you for a memory to keep him warm when the tides take him. Cunnilingus, penetration.

Content warning(s): smoking, public sex

Rating: E

Ao3: here

The stars pop out overhead as the clouds clear above the harbour, and you take in a deep breath. Your coat flaps in the sea breeze, and you pull it tighter around you. It's peaceful here, even with war looming on the horizon. There's a slender figure just ahead of you, and you see the spark of a match. God, you need a fag.

Your heels click on the pavement as you slowly walk towards the stranger. He looks up, and in the light of the yellow streetlamp, you notice his sharp jaw, his sparkling eyes. There's a small grin on his face, and you try not to return it.

"Got a spare?" you ask.

The young man - a boy, really - nods and holds out the packet for you to take one. "No filter in them."

You take one and hold it between your lips. "I don't mind." In your pocket is a little pack of matches, and you strike one to light the cigarette. You take the first draw, and a wave of relief washes over you.

"Bit late for a nice girl like you to be out, in't it? What brings you down to the docks?"

"I like watching the ships." You shrug. You can feel his eyes roaming over you without shame. "And the sailors."

"Why's that then?" He turns slightly to face you and he shifts his weight from one leg to the other, bringing himself closer.

A small breeze rolls in from the sea and you close your eyes, enjoying the coolness of it. You take another drag. "They never stay for long."

That makes him chuckle. "So let me guess; you never found Mister Right?"

"Or maybe I never wanted him. Maybe I only ever wanted Mister Right Now."

His grin is cocky. "I see. You're that sort of girl, then?"

"And what sort of girl is that?"

He takes a long drag on his own fag and lets the smoke pour through his nostrils, his parted lips. "The kind who sees the value in short-lived fun."

You bite your lip and laugh, your gaze never wavering from his. "Maybe. What if I am?"

"Then I think you and me might get on alright." He takes a step closer and leans against the railing next to you, so close that you can feel the warmth rolling off his body. "What's your name, miss?"

"Whatever you want it to be, sailor."

He chuckles and tilts his head to the side. "Want to know my name?"

"I already know your name."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. You're Mister Right Now."

His grin widens. "What if I've already got a girl?"

"Have you?"

"Might have."

"Oh, well in that case-" and you turn as if to walk away.

He catches your hand without missing a beat and pulls you back to him. "Hey, where d'you think you're going?"

There are butterflies in your stomach as he towers over you, his young face handsome, sharp shadows thrown across it by the light overhead. "To find someone else."

"You're not going anywhere. I'm the best you'll find."

Instinctively, you rest your hand on his chest, almost like a barrier between you. It doesn't feel like a barrier. "Most cocky, maybe."

"I can't make any promises on that front, but I've never had a complaint."

You bite the inside of your cheeks to try to hide your grin, but it doesn't work. "But have you had anyone come back for more?"

"Once or twice, yeah. I'll have you back for more."

"You've only just met me! You've got an awful lot of confidence."

The way he's looking at you makes you feel naked, as if he's ravishing you right here on the dock. Half of you wants to push him away and into the water. The other half... well, the other half isn't rational and isn't to be listened to. It's the half that wants to pull him close and strip him as bare as he's making you feel.

He leans closer until you can smell the coffee and cigarettes on his breath. "Yeah, and it's all for you."

"You're full of it, sailor boy."

He looks you up and down again, sizing up his prize, before leaning so close his lips graze your ear. "Do you want me to show you how full of it I am?"

"You're not impressing me," you lie, but the whisper against your skin has covered you in goosebumps, sent electricity down your spine. You don't even notice how it's made you bite your lip.

"No? Then why have you stopped breathing?"His long fingers grasp your chin, and he turns your face to look at him. He's so close that your vision of blurry. It makes your eyelids heavy. "C'mon. Why do I have to beg?"

Your hands find their way to his slim waist, and the curl in the fabric of his tunic. "Because there's nothing prettier than a man on his knees."

Mister Right Now looks up the dock one way, and then the other. Still wearing a broad grin, he sinks to his knees in front of you, right there on the concrete. The fag drops from his fingers, and he looks up at you. "Like this?"

You wind your hand into his short, soft hair and drag your nails across his scalp. He closes his eyes in bliss, and it's his turn now to bite his lip. You hear him sigh, and watch as his chest rises and falls with it. Every nerve in you is aflame. "Just like this."

Sure hands find their way up the backs of your calves. He is stroking your skin, and his touch glides up, up beneath your skirt, up your stockings, and before you have time to think, one hand winds to grasp your backside. The other presses firmly between your thighs, and you let out a sigh of your own. "Is this what you want?" he asks.

You open your eyes and see him staring up at you. He's cocky, arrogant - and practically begging. You nod, teeth digging into your lip.

"Right here? Where anyone could see?"

"You'll all be gone by morning. Why should I care?"

He laughs, and leans closer. He presses his face against your skirt, just over your stomach, and you feel him bite. The hand in his hair pushes him away slightly but he surges forward. He grabs the hem of your skirt and lifts it up. You thank God that you're not wearing a tight pencil skirt, and that the soft wool is loose and swinging. He ducks his head under it.

When he disappears from your sight, you can only feel. He tugs at your underwear and without even thinking of resisting, you step wider for him, you let him drag it down, and you relish his mouth upon your thighs. Above you, rain begins to drop slowly and lightly from the sky. The stars have disappeared behind inky clouds. The streetlight had blocked them out before, anyway.

You feel his fingers first. The young sailor glides two up the inside of your thigh, and he runs it slowly along your folds, not yet dipping in. It's obscene, what you're doing, but you're quickly forgetting to care. Anyone could see you, anyone could see the young man under your skirt, but it doesn't matter. He seems to know what he's doing.

"What's your name?" you ask with an unsteady voice when his fingers slip against your cunt.

"Tom." His voice is muffled under your skirt. He presses his lips against the sensitive skin where your thigh meets your hip. "Tom Bennett."

"Alright, Tom Bennett." You grin, and your head drops back. Thank God for the railing behind you - it's the only thing you can cling onto without worrying about falling into the harbour. "Keep going."

You feel him more than you hear him chuckle. His fingers press against your entrance and you bring up a hand to press against your breast, but he doesn't sink them inside. You whine softly in protest, but he drags them up to spread your folds wide, and then he does something that brings you to your toes.

The firmness of his nose touches your cunt first. He runs it along the sensitive skin there, and he breathes through it to both cool and warm you. It must be glistening wet, you think in the back of your mind, for even just talking to Tom Bennett has had you hot and ready. His tongue follows the line his nose makes, and then he presses it against your clit.

"Fuck." You breathe the word lowly, and without realising, you grasp his head through your skirt. "Just there."

As his lips seal around your bundle of nerves, he chuckles again, and the vibrations make the stars reappear in your eyes. He sucks gently at first, but then it gets firmer, harder, and you have to lean more heavily against the railing. He knows what he's doing. God, does he know.

At last his fingers press inside you, and it feels so good, so right. The digits twist and curl in time with his tongue higher up - when his fingers stroke, his tongue stills. When his tongue strokes, his fingers still. But it's so smooth, so practised, that it feels like one long and fluid motion. He dines on you like it's his last meal.

"Tom!" You sigh his name as the tension in your stomach builds. "Yes, don't stop." It's difficult to keep quiet.

In the moments that you climb the precipice, the young sailor stops, and he stands up suddenly. In his eyes is a wildness that you can't escape. He stares into you with an impossible fire, and it's only when you hear the clink of his opening belt that you realise why he stopped.

"You taste like the sea."

You can't help but grab him close. "Show me."

And then he kisses you. One hand fumbles with his trousers, and the other grasps the back of your neck, and he kisses you. It's rough, and he parts your lips without a second thought, and then his tongue is sliding against yours as if he is tasting for the first time. He's right - you do taste like the sea. You can taste yourself on him, and it makes you whine quietly. He grabs your hips and lifts you to sit on the railing, before his hands return to his trousers. They're barely pushed to his knees by the time his grasp is on your hips.

He looks you in the eye again, and his cocky grin is back. All teeth and determination. "You want this?"

You pull at the hair on the back of his head and return his grin. "Yeah. Fuck me, Tom Bennett."

"You don't have to say my whole name every time."

You reach one hand between you and it finds his cock, heavy and leaking. You squeeze gently, and in your grasp you can feel his heartbeat racing. Maybe he felt yours, too, when he pressed his mouth against your cunt. The noise he makes is deep and whining and it rumbles in his chest, and you wish for a fleeting moment that you were looking at his naked body, admiring him in the light of day. But no, this is good, too. On a rainy dock in the middle of the night, where anyone can find you. There's a thrill in that. He wants you so bad.

With your hand guiding him, he slides easily into you. You wrap your legs around his waist, already halfway to bliss, and hang onto the railing for dear life. The sounds of your fucking are obscene - wet and slapping noises echo along the dock and across the water, and you bury your face into his neck to muffle your sounds of delight.

"Shit!" He laughs quietly, his voice punctuated by moans with every breath. "Do you know how good you feel?"

"No!" you laugh in reply. The peals of delight devolve into moans again. "I've never fucked myself."

"You're missing out, then. Hey!" He slaps the hand away that reaches between you, and looks at you in mock indignation. "I'm taking care of you, aren't I?"

Your mouth hangs open in delight when he presses his fingers back against you. They trace just above where his cock slides in and out of you, and then they set a firm and fast rhythm against your clit. It feels better than anything you've had before, you've never had someone take care like this before, it's so good, it's so-

"Oh, Tom!"

"Fuck! Yeah, like that?"

You nod, and he kisses you deeply again. It's all heavy breaths and strained expressions now, but when your lips part, your foreheads stay pressed together. Sweaty, damp from the drizzle, it doesn't matter. It pushes you higher and higher.

"Tom, yes, yes-! I-!"

"Good girl, keep going, I-! Oh, fuck!"

What little sense remains to you reminds you to stay quiet. When he rips the orgasm from you, only the smallest squeak escapes you, but your eyes roll back into your head as heaven explodes through you. Your thighs, still locked around his narrow hips, tremble and shake.

"I'm gonna-!" He looks at you with wide eyes.

"Inside, Tom!"

His face scrunches up as he follows you over the edge, and his hips stutter while he comes. He buries himself as deep as he can, leaning forward on his toes, knees slightly bent, and you meet him with a few final grinds to release all the pressure. He pants, and rests his forehead against your shoulder. You wrap your arms around his neck and hold him close.

Eventually, your legs are too tired to hold him close, and you let them unwind from him. The ground rushes up to meet them, and then you finally land back on Earth. Bliss does not leave you, though.

It seems not to leave him, either, and even when he pulls out, does his trousers and belt back up, he looks satisfied. His grin won't fade. Even when he kisses you again, he is grinning.

"That was alright, weren't it?"

You can't help but laugh quietly. You pull up your underwear and sort out your skirt, and when you look at him, you're pleased to see that he's still looking at you like a prize to be won. "Yeah. Yeah, that was alright, Tom Bennett."

"I already said you don't have to-"

"But how else will I remember, if not by repeating it?"

He steps closer to you again, and he's towering over you again, and he's close enough to kiss again. "You want to repeat that?"

"Maybe. Come back from war alive, and maybe I'll be waiting here for you."

"Nah, not here."

You raise your eyebrow. "Oh?"

He's grinning. "Next time, I wanna fuck you in a proper bed. And next time, I'll be moaning your name."

"You don't want to be strangers next time?" It's a tease, nothing more. All night has been a tease.

"No. Next time, I want you to be mine."

#tom bennett x female reader #ewan mitchell #Tom bennett x reader #tom bennett x y/n #tom bennett smut #world on fire fanfiction #tom bennett x ofc #mine #first time ive written reader fics................... SHAKING NERVOUSLY #mine pwp

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ludinusdaleth · 2 months

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i feel like the mere idea of bringing up orym & ludinus and their entwined threads of fate is taboo, but i cant stop thinking about it.

orym is a rare, nearly impossible kind of protector - a guard, somehow not attached to a corrupt, brutal system. he just wishes to protect his home, his leader. but ludinus, via otohan, attacks this peaceful place. he turns the ashari cautious & agrieved. he turns the society of air into the eye of a hurricane. orym is turned into a widow. his title as guard is marred; he failed. maybe zephrah is forever marked as a battleground & graveyard, now.

orym walks across tal'dorei & marquet, slowly healing beside his friends, protecting them as best he can. but then he learns who killed his family, and she kills his friends, too - and him, for a moment, giving him visions of his dead husband, reopening the wound. he is in the eye of a sandstorm, tinged red by the moon. he is a pilgrim no longer. his attempt to be a guard has once again been thwarted. maybe you cant have peace if you're a protector.

orym is at the center of the goddamn planet, the leylines aligning as he witnesses his leader fall at the hands of otohan, again at the center of his home's wound, and ludinus, again pulling the strings. a protector far stronger, more capable, than him, adorned in feathers, alight with divinity, falls worse. his friends are flung to the far sides of the world. he once again fails as a guard. maybe a guard is too small in the scale of this world's forces to impact the tide at all.

and so, orym nods to laudna as she rips bor'dor's life from him. he shears his hair ever more, adorns tougher armor. he makes a deal with a hag, desperate for any chance someone he cares for could maybe fucking make it out okay - even if his vastly increased sternness to keep them safe pushes all of them farther into fear of their own. he sneers with unfathomable anguish as he sees ludinus at the volcano and wastes every one of his action points to rip his soldiers apart. he uses ludinus's harness. he takes the willmaster's power. he keeps pushing into the bloodred storm. he could never be a guard right. so it is time to be a soldier. to truly protect must mean to run to the source of all of it and end it once and for all.

all of the bells have been forged by ludinus, a horseman of war, but orym takes it most viscerally. he does everything in his power to stop ludinus, but in a way the elf has already won - or perhaps, in his need for exandria to be "saved" (as he percieves his actions will do), he's failed, but the bells have still lost. because this new generation isnt at peace. they arent even heroes. they are soldiers. orym more than anyone else has accepted that is his life, his death, his fate. there is no goal of his that doesnt end at ludinus. ludinus, who just like him, lost everything in a war involving gods. who has felt the way the world keeps turning, unbothered by what destroyed his society. who uses that accursed harness to take power for a cause. who doesnt want to force someones mind to get what he needs, or kill, but does, because it is necessary. who has pushed himself to the point he is a means to an end more than a person, willing to rip himself apart because he doesnt matter, his goal does. who cant see anything but war on the horizon anymore.

when the two are mentioned together it causes folk to bristle. the idea orym could be in ludinus's shadow is seen as a suggestion that orym is evil as him. but, thats not what i intend. it is a terrible thing, watching someone's gaze harden after tragedy. once a long time ago, as the gods fought across exandria, ludinus saw his world destroyed. and so he enacted a plan to ensure that would never happen again. that they would suffer, and mortals would thrive. but his plan was a god's foot, trampling mortal society upon society. and so orym saw his world destroyed. and he knows killing ludinus is how to let it mend. as the two march forward, in a second calamity, i can think of nothing but the first scene of exu: calamity, when pelor & asmodeus fought as avalir fell below them. despite ludinus's raging, incredible hatred of the gods, the biggest tragedy of all is that mortals really are crafted in the gods' image: and he, & orym, are most representative of that endless cycle of war, of this war, a failure of the past generations, of ludinus, to ensure a "true" freedom of mortals. of peace.

willmaster edmunda was a terrible person, but i fear she was on the right track when she spat at orym "some would like to live in harmony [with Exandrians]. some... know the nature of violence, that others like you carry."

he would never have carried it if ludinus had not dropped it at his feet.

#critical role meta #critical role #campaign 3 #orym of the air ashari #ludinus da'leth #long post #van speaks

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tastelessskin · 1 year

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Bowuigi Fic List

A Bowuigi Fic List I made for a friend! Every new fic is a gem, and every fic out there deserves to be appreciated! These are just some that matched my personal taste in fics!

Long Fics -

Infiltration of the Heart - A Bowuigi Fic by vespera832 | read here

.:Same Man I Was Before:. by DarkwingSnark | read here

strong and delicate by ValentineRunaway | read here

Medium Fics -

. Green Bean & Koopa King by Drizzelite | read here

Secret Admirer by NonbinaryCookie | read here

my handsome, my dear by MrsLuigiVargas | read here

Short Fics -

. Castle Surprise by DuxInteritio | read here

First Date by candlelightning | read here

Your Eyes Are Tired But Keep Them Open (I Should Be Sleeping) by Phonetic_Inconsistency | read here

Nerdy Robot Fanatic flirts with Lizard King, more at 10 by Royal_Knightmare | read here

Cold Hearted by luiigis | read here

Dear lord, someone teach Mario how to give gifts. by poiesis_thegayone | read here

Unfinished Fics (that are an absolutely amazing read) -

Wicked Game by Jayyydez | read here

Fireflowers in the Sunshine by HiddenDirector | read here

Bravery Training by CircuitryDemon | read here

oh i'm so broken and hot please save me daddy by YoshisSecretBoyfriend | read here

The Tide of Peace that Brings New Horizons by KI56 | read here

Reconciliation by fox_with_a_pen | read here

An Unusual Situation by eeveelotions | read here

KoopaMingle by DangerDoggins (has suggestive themes, also has negative characterizations of Mario & Peach) | read here

#bowuigi #bowser x luigi #fic list #bowuigi fic list #luigi x bowser #luigi #bowser #green shell

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crookednachogalaxy · 11 months

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Bowuigi Fanfic List

alrighty, considering that i like reading and re-reading bowuigi fics every once in a while (read: daily), i figure it's about time i curate a lil list of fics i enjoy so i don't have to wade through ao3 everytime i wanna re-read something. and im posting it so that anyone else can enjoy it as well!

i will try to keep it regularly updated, but no promises heh

i want every mentioned author here to know that i absolutely adore your fic(s)!!!!! thank you for putting your creativity out there and sharing the worlds and stories you've created with the rest of us. the amount of joy i feel getting lost in your worlds is indescribable.

kinda goes to show with how long this list ended up being...

disclaimer: these are all fics that i personally enjoy reading. as such, sensitive or triggering topics lirke homophobia, medical trauma, etc. may be a part of certain fics. please always check the tags and read at your own discretion!

One-shots

My Husband, Bowser by LonelyMarowak

Falling in Love by candlelightning (series)

Bowser's Sacrifice by MyHeroZero

Important Gift by DeckofDragons

Castle Surprise by DuxInteritio

Days by Useless19 (series)

Stalemate Series by loudmouthraccoon (series)

Dancing Decisions by DuxInteritio

hot and crispy pill bug. by elastic honey (infernoconcealed)

Dream Sweet, Dream Deep by timeslippingdownyourspine

Bowuigi's Christmas by CircusSparkles

Bowser is Too Big (But Not for Luigi) by ink182

my handsome, my dear by MrsLuigiVargas

Nerdy Robot Fanatic flirts with Lizard King, more at 10 by Royal_Knightmare

Unpredictable by CheeseCakeParty

Lullaby for Junior by Lady_B20

A Quiet Night by DamianTheGamian

Under the Stars by KI56

The Discovery of the Past Shows the Truth by KI56

Love Potion - Bowuigi by trih

The Haunting Princess by Llamaal

Love & Live by soukeye

Princess Luigi by whispersoftheraine

Sleepwalking by wogwoman

Eggs Don't Lie by Llamaal

Unexpected Love by usxuk

Eyes So Bright by BlueBerryOatmeal

Completed Fics

A Love to Die For - How This Love Became by LonelyMarowak

arrivederci by ValentineRunaway

strong and delicate by ValentineRunaway

Share your heart to the Koopa King by BeanieRocket

Secret Admirer by NonbinaryCookie

.:Same Man I Was Before:. by DarkwingSnark

Infiltration of the Heart by VesperOfRoses

When kidnapping goes very very right by TeamRocket9

Why? by AngelXD2

Left Behind by LadyZephyr2019

Captured Luigi Captures Some Attention by Ckatmyla

Bowser's Flower by CherylTiger

A Dream of Sunny Skies by Skippy_Watts

Chained Together by LoveSamanta

Shadows by Dumpsterfiredude

An Egg in a Trying Time by MrsLuigiVargas

Sitting On A Curb by ZoiIsSomehowHere

Going Against the Current by CreativeSnek314

Ongoing Fics

.:Come Be Lonely With Me:. by DarkwingSnark (sequel to .:Same Man I Was Before:.)

it's hard to take a gamble by akiko

It was only a kiss (How did it end up like this?) by Anonymous

True Love's Kiss by Rawrpeep

The Tide of Peace that Brings New Horizons by KI56

Diamond Eyes by AngelXD2

Impurities (Bowser x Luigi) by bowuigiiscannon

Princess Protection Program by TheSilverSpy

Stella Stellina by GimmieSmoreSin

Invasive by batneko

herbes de provence. by elastic honey (infernoconcealed)

The One In the Green Gown by Lady_B20

As Told by Junior by GimmieSmoreSin (my current favourite!)

A New Shade of Green by LuluWolffy

Cooking Mama (Luigi)! by Little_RedHots_Riding_Hood

Lost and found by Vamaji

Strange and Interesting by o_utrecht

The Baddest of the Badlands by supermollio (ngm)

Luigi and the Beast by DracotheDeathEatingCupcake

Super Bowuigi Odyssey by ProtoChan

The Missing Half by MetalProphecies150

How to Take Care of Your Pet Turtle by galactic_goose

A Nutcracker and the Beast by MeiBone

You Can Do It, Bowser! by lexthecryptid

Wishes by Dumpsterfiredude

bad habit by astronout

On hiatus

To Break The Bonds Within Two Kingdoms by MyNameisNickname

Why Him? by Omido

#bowuigi #luigi #bowser #bowser x luigi #luigi x bowser #bowuigi fic list by robyn

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falling-heights · 1 year

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☆ Arthur Morgan ☆ - I gave you all

[pt. 1]

Summary: You meet a ghost from your past several years after splitting ways. Only, he isn’t as kind as you remembered him being. And perhaps, it’s been too long for him to still forgive you.

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: violence, gun use, graphic scenery, injury, blood

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

“Y o u c a l l i t h o p e-- t h a t f i r e o f f i r e!

I t i s b u t a g o n y o f d e s i r e.”

Trees rushed past in a blur of green and brown. Small patches of wildflowers added a splash of color every now and then. The sun was setting.

It'd been at least 9 hours since you'd entered this train car, and your fatigue was beginning to form a pulsing headache. The idea of sleeping now greatly outweighed your initial excitement.

It wouldn't be long now, you thought, perhaps only a few more hours before you arrived at Blackwater. How long had it been since you'd stepped foot in that town? It would never seem to be long enough. The last image you had of it was stained an ugly red, and you along with it.

But still, through Blackwater, you had a one-way ticket to a new life, to leave this god-forsaken country behind, to shed your wolf-skin and live amongst the fold again.

With one last glance towards the dimly-lit horizon, you watched the last few golden streaks retreat behind the mountains before sinking into the red velvet seating and resting your head against the glass. Feeling the chill of the oncoming night breathing through the window and fogging up the glass, you let the gentle shaking of the train lull you to a peaceful haze; Your last thoughts were of what the coming times might bring.

But that's silly, isn't it? To always be certain of the future-- or better, to think that anyone can change the rolling tides once they've already reached the shore.

It was dark when the train lurched to a shaky halt. The brightest source of light came from the lanterns hanging on the exterior of the train. Thinking that you may have arrived, you glanced through the window, only to be met with a wall of trees and thick foliage. The train was still a ways off from civilization-- at least a couple dozen miles from what you had to guess, and from the nervous whispering of your fellow passengers, it was clear that something was off. They fidgeted with their watches and sleeves, trying to catch light of why the engine died so far from it's intended destination. It didn't seem this stop was scheduled.

Sitting up, your mind flashed with a number of possibilities. Maybe the train had broken down, maybe a stowaway was just being thrown off, maybe something had fallen onto the tracks just up ahead.

But then the rear-facing door swung open, and a guard crept down the aisle. The man was dressed in plainclothes of a brown suit and matching pants-- not policemen. This was the type you would hire to protect cargo from thieves, not to commune with passengers, or by any means to help them. He held a well-worn rifle in one hand, and with the other, he loaded bullets. On his belt hung a singular revolver, visibly in worse condition than the rifle. You only heard three bullets being loaded.

"Ladies, Gentlemen, there's no gentle way to explain our situation," He was sweating, never sparing a glance towards anyone. His eyes remained trained on the clearing of the other cars ahead, flashing at each and everything that moved. He sounded beside himself, yet still attempting to keep everyone else calm. "We are facing a robbery, it seems."

The whispering quickly evolved into panic, elicited even more so when an array of gunfire went off just up ahead. The guard raised his arms, commanding silence from the travelers.

"I know this might be a very alarming situation for all of you, but please, try to stay calm," He was hardly calm himself. The grip on his gun was tight and trembling. And with only three bullets, he must have already known what his terms were. "The best thing you can do is stay quiet and comply. I don't wish that anyone here suffers to something like this, but if I am unable to keep you all safe, then it's a better bargain for you to lose your valuables than to lose your lives."

A familiar feeling sunk in-- despair. As though a past life was coming back to haunt you. You hadn’t felt such harsh degrees of terror like this in years. As panic set in, painful memories clawed their way from your head. Of the money you'd burned. Of the scars left beneath your garments. Of the guns left buried in Rhodes. Of anything, leaving those guns behind hurt the most. They had been a gift after all, from someone once special. But times like those were far gone in the past, left behind by what you'd sought to bury and destroy.

The guard opened the side door toward the front of the car. Visibility was finite through the pitch-black air. What light the exterior lanterns did provide was meager and a garish orange. He took a final breath and stepped forward.

His head ended up hitting the ground faster than his feet could.

A bang.

A splat.

And then a thud.

The gun misfired as it landed, startling you from your seat. All within three seconds.

His body collapsed in the mud, and the entire side of the train car's windows was mottled with blood. Someone behind you screamed. A woman. A few more followed her. Someone started to cry, clutching their pearl-lined purses, and silver coated rings. Yet, you had nothing to hold, nothing to give. Nothing to pray you don’t lose. You had nothing left except the ticket in your hands and your life.

Had this man really been the last one left? Nothing but a hired escort? And yet, knowing this, instead of playing the docile part that could have saved his life, he stepped into death's hand.

What man could ever be such a fool?

Now standing, an arrangement of ideas rushed through your head, with one message shared among them: 'Get out. Leave.' Your feet carried you, eyes guiding each step. The rear-facing door was still swung open. It could very well be your only chance.

Quietly backing away from the front, ignoring the pitying pleas of others as you passed through them. How scared they seemed-- how helpless to their unfortunate circumstances. You wanted nothing to do with their situation, however, a small sight instilled a small pause in your movements-- a little girl, saddled in the lap of her mother, who tried in these moments to comfort her child. A fleeting thought went to her, perhaps of a sort of sympathetic appeal, and then you continued to move. Perhaps if you did not already know how things would end, you might have offered to help. But you would not make the same mistake as the guard. You were no fool.

Small dapples of light began to spread from the front of the train, quickly approaching. Time was against you. A hand went to your hair, tacitly removing the hair pin keeping several strands pinned up. A knife would have been preferable, perhaps even a gun, but a thin needle would have to do. The pointed end barely stuck out much farther than your palm as you held it closely.

Just a few more steps now.

You let out a breath once you felt your free hand hit the handle to the wooden framing. Turning, you were just about to make it when--

The barrel of a gun stared you down. Behind it, a masked man. It seems you weren't quick enough. They had gone around the side, closing any exits.

"Going somewhere, little lady?" You didn't recognize the voice, but there was a snideness in his tone, thinking he'd just caught a little bird trying to escape. He stepped forward, onto the car, and you mirrored by taking a step back. "I suggest you turn back around."

The gun's hammer was cocked, a death sentence if you chose to disobey. You would have to wait a moment more. Sitting in the closest empty seat, his eyes gleamed in satisfaction. He made his first mistake in moving the gun away from you. The second mistake was taking steps past you, leaving himself open from behind. And thus, the moment had arrived.

Suddenly lunging back up, your arm swung down, piercing the skin of his neck. Digging it further, you kept pushing until all that was left of the hairpin was the decorative gold head.

"Fucking bitch!" He hollered, his hand defensively starting to swat at his neck. Giving him no chance to rebut, you turned heel and ran back to the door, giving it a singular, hearty shove, and jumping down to the muddy ground. The gun fired, lodging itself into the wooden frame of the train, but its damage was dealt. Four men, all armed, one with a lantern, immediately became aware of your presence on the opposite end of the car.

The lantern was of a kind you had seen only used by watch-men and hunters, except for the few times that you had used one during your more active hours. The kind that blocked most of its light, except through a small glass sight, allowing for handlers to focus a solid beam in any direction. Right now, that light was focused on you, a quivering form, half-crouching on the muddy tracks.

Behind you, an open meadow sat, its own invitation laced with bad omen. The only hope of getting through such an exposed field would be to run, and though the grass may be tall, hiding would never be an option. Ahead of you, the trees loomed, almost screaming at you to break from your spot and find solitude in its foliage. Through the trees, you would at least have the chance to lose them.

So, truly, what were your choices? To hide, or to run?

Hiding surely. You doubted your body could outrun 4 grown men, none of which seemed to be any less athletic than men in their prime. Their were a few eerily moments of silence. Everyone was deciding what to do next, including you.

With an unstable breath, you quickly gathered the ruffled layers of your dress, hoisted the heavy fabric, and took off towards your only chance at freedom. There would only be a minute head start before they would the chase. Every moment counted. Every second decided how this would end.

Your shoes were not made for running, evidently, as the heels dug further into the mud with every step, causing a shot balance and a slow start. Some indistinct yelling sounded from behind. Three of the four men followed in pursuit of you, the other likely told to continue operations with the other passengers. Six pairs of feet quickly crept up on you, pounding into the ground heavily, the forest floor was practically quaking beneath you. You were correct in choosing the forest over the meadow. These men were apt, keeping a steady pace on you, like bloodhounds hunting down fresh game.

The ground was uneven, hardly visible. You would find yourself falling for brief moments with sudden dips in the ground, and crawling when it rose again just as swift. The farther you went, the more you prayed that the moon would continue to guide your eyes. But, the forest grew thicker with every step. And soon, the canopy overhead of Elms and Alpines would completely consume what little help you had left.

The sounds of footfall faded, first six, then 4, and then just 2, until ceasing altogether, and for a moment, you were hopeful that they'd given up. Taking a quick glance, you almost froze in place, still slowing down significantly. They had indeed stopped their chase, however it wasn't from a lack of interest. From the small glance, only one had managed to stay on your trail, however, though he longer chased, the outline of a well-worn rifle was clear. He was watching your form retreating. It was obvious their intentions weren't to let you live, and instead of wasting their energy, they must have decided a quick and steady aim would be more efficient.

He missed the first shot. The bullet struck the ground just by your ankles. It would take him about 4 seconds to reload the gun. There was doubt he would miss again. Running wouldn't do you any good anymore either. Your energy was on reserve, and the heavy dress dragged your body down. But what could you do in just 4 seconds? There wasn't time to think, no time to escape the scope of range.

The tree's trunks were thin and narrow, but it was all you had. Running to the closest stump, your back slammed into the bark, skin pulsing with adrenaline. Bracing for the sound of another misfire, but the trigger wasn't pulled. For precious seconds, you waited, catching your breath, eyes flying wildly around for any sign of movement, but your panic was met with silence.

And then you realized, he was waiting for you. Why should he waste another bullet? You would eventually need to leave your spot, and he would wait until you did. Better make it count, then.

Around, you could barely see. Various pillars of other trees and bushes was about all you could make out. But just ahead, was what looked like a large divot in the forest floor. Perhaps a ditch or a small creek. You couldn't hear any running water, but the blood hammering in your ear-drums would surely deafen a small creek. Still, it was likely your best shot at survival. If you could just make it into that trench, you might be able to avoid any further gunfire, and you could follow the channel out of the area. If you could just make it from this tree to that ditch.

Funny, you thought for a moment, that despite how much you tried to bury it, you still ended up on the end of a gun. Perhaps, not the end you would have preferred. There was nothing left to do. Death would meet you regardless of what you did now. Stay, and he would eventually lose patience. Move, and likely be shot before you could make more than a few feet. But only one option had any chance. With a deep breath, you stepped out.

You thought to your mother then. Of her, you really couldn't remember much, but her words have lasted far longer than any other memories. In this moment, as your foot met the ground, digging in to the cold mud an old warning of hers slowly drifted to your cerebral thoughts.

"Such a little dreamer, such big ideas.... . Some day, you will need to face the world, for how it works, and not for how you wish it to.”

Your other foot foot kissed the ground, Of your mother, and her words, one thing you knew was certain about life. Death would one day meet you. Of course, this was inevitable, but to think that it would have come so soon.

Your third step was your final. Finally, the bullet's target was found. It lodged itself snugly in your upper calf, ripping through muscle and tendon, completely eviscerating the lower half of your leg. A strange sort of yelp, like an injured dog left your lips. Your body turned parallel to the mud, half falling, half diving into the sticky muck. The rough impact caused your neck to snap down, snagging your upper lip on a root, and many more dug into your skin roughly. The taste of blood was strong, but the pain was almost numb compared your shredded leg, which now felt like it had been caught in a meat grinder. You didn't need to look to tell that you were losing blood. There were little droplets of blood spattered along fallen leaves, mixing into the brown sludge. The warm, sticky liquid could be felt leaking down your leg.

Wheezing, trying to lift yourself up, your body was crying itself along the ground. Unwilling any mobility, your blown leg shook involuntarily, muscles trying to constrict despite no longer being connected to each other. The feeling of shock was starting to creep up the rest of your leg, spreading through waves of heated chills. But still, despite the inability to stand, you tried dragging yourself. By now, from the pain, and the exhaustion that you felt growing, your breath sounded more like shrill, desperate wails. Frustration and despair ebbing with every exhale. The tears couldn't be restrained any longer. Letting out a sob, your head pressed against your outstretched arm, fingers clawing against the mud, filling the underside of your nails with mud.

Footsteps quickly approached.

A string of blood infested saliva hung from your lips, stretching thickly to the ground. The man towered over you, the lantern hanging from his hand, a poorly-taken care of rifle supported by his shoulder.

"Thought we'd let a pretty little bird like you get away, did'ya?" Your wheezing suddenly broke. Familiarity. The Irishman set the lantern down, letting the light bleed into the proximate area. "Let's see what good of a catch you are."

A gloved hand, reeking of gun oil and tobacco, snatched your cheeks, squeezing your face, forcibly making your lips pucker. He raised your head sharply upwards, causing you to grimace in discomfort. Clearly, despite the tears and sweat that clouded your eyes, Sean's face was unmistakable. But despite the pain, and the misery, you glared defiantly.

"Are my eyes deceiving me...?" For a rare moment in his life, Sean sounded faint, equally shocked at the possibility at such a reunion. But, it was brief, for after a moment of quiet, he began chuckling to himself. "Been awhile, hasn't it, Sweets? Thought'd we'd see the last of each other after what happened. I almost can't believe this."

Choosing to remain silent, Sean hummed and allowed your face to fall.

"Can't say I haven't missed you, though. Can't say I'm the only one either..." His voice changed again, seeming a bit more dull, as though the thought of your absence all these years held genuine weight. "Oh, I'm forgettin' my manners... A lot's changed, y'know."

"Sean, please listen to me..." He circled around you, kicked back the ends of the dress that covered your leg.

"Agh! I really did a number, didn't I? " Sean knelt, gently grasping the lower half of your leg, turning it from one side to the other to discern the damage he'd dealt. "Sorry 'bout that there. But, well, uh, I guess thank god it wasn't some poor innocent girl, right?"

"Sean, I need your help." It was pathetic, begging to someone who was once a friend. Someone who knew many secrets, and shared even more. He stood up, circling back around to face you. The other two grunts finally caught up, though neither spoke up.

"Oh, do you now? Here, I wanna see your face all proper." He smiled to himself, rustling through his coat pockets before presenting a small handkerchief that was partly matted with dried sweat. He offered it to you, and hesitantly, you accepted. "Well, I don't know. Seems like you were just fine with leaving all us so suddenly. If I didn't know any better, I'd say's you might just be trying to appeal to my soft side. But not you, right?"

"This isn't funny, Sean." Using the rag to clean your mouth and face. "I don't want to be any part of this."

"So, we ought to just leave you here then, that's your solution? Poor little thing bleeding out? Hand me another rag, pal." After being given a small rolled bandage by one of the other men, Sean dropped to the ground next to you, and began to lowly unwind the roll. "That just don't sit right with me. You can't even stand at this point. But that's not really what's so concerning. You caused a bit of a mess behind you. Don't you want to see the rest of the group? One last 'fare-thee-well'?"

He wasn't being genuine, it should have been clear from the start that trying to barter with him would be a waste of time. The last few words dug especially deep, almost as though he was finding your helplessness a tad too funny. You fell silent, opting to guess how this would go. Sean said a few words, none of which you really listened to, until he picked the lantern back up, conclusively.

"Tie her up. I'm off to get tha' Big Boy." They complied, Sean flashed a wide smile. When they finished their binds, Sean flashed another look that screamed with excitement, "Don't run off now, we're all in for a real treat."

Bitterly, you waited for his return, expecting perhaps Dutch to be in tow. However, when the light of the lantern pierced through the tree line once more, it was evident that Dutch was not the man returning with Sean. Another figure sat broadly on a black shire.

You thought you'd seen a ghost.

Perhaps you had.

The one tiring you couldn't bury, the sole reason that you tried to leave. Upon you, the sight of an early grave closed in. you felt hollow through your chest, like your soul was trying to leave you then, but both body and soul were trapped, unable to flee from this horrid sight The man you once thought had the prettiest eyes, and such a gentle face.

All of that was gone now. It had been long before either of you had last seen each other. Trees whispered to each other, gossiping with the wind. All wondering what would happen next. Upon his horse, he descended, Adjusting a pair of riding gloves as he did. A dirtied facecloth hung from his face, masking his current emotions from the outside world. Silence lay, as though the forest itself lay uneasy with such solemn presence.

"Leave us."

{The gif provided is actually the Arthur from my own save file}

#arthur morgan #yandere #yandere arthur morgan #rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic #yandere rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan x reader #yandere x reader #yandere red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan fanfiction

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hamunnyii · 1 year

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Me EATING UP BOWUIGI CONTENT keeping up with 1 fanfiction with 20.000 words and still unfinished (The Tide of Peace that Brings New Horizons by KI56 on Ao3), 3 comics in which one Bowser and Luigi are f.cking obvious with their feelings (@/pigdemonart on Tumblr), one where they're already together but there are 3000 other dynamics and story plot (@/jelixpo on Tumblr), and a third one where there's Mr. L (@/batneko on Tumblr)

They're all so amazing Istg I loose my head every time I read them and I think about them at least once every day (more than once)

#bowser x luigi #luigi x bowser #luigi #bowuigi #bowser #mario movie

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minecraftdreamer · 2 months

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The sun dipped toward the horizon, bleeding warm gold into the cobalt sky. It was a quiet ending to a day that had known the simple labors - the chopping of wood, the carving of earth, the gentle placement of stone upon stone. The waters, brushed with strokes of light, shimmered beneath this vast dome, a world waking and sleeping in the ceaseless cycle.

On the shore, the trees bore witness in their silent vigil, their leaves whispering tales only the breeze could comprehend. No sails marred the ocean's canvas; the boats lay anchored, resting like dozing turtles by the scattered isles. The grandeur of the sun's retreat played before an empty theatre, save for the lone traveler who stopped and watched, acknowledging the day's quiet exit. Here was life, block by block, a testament to the craft and toil - and in the end, the simple beauty of a pixelated world, constantly renewing under the watchful eye of the setting sun.

It was a place of peace, of endings and beginnings, of relentless tides that washed the shores, bringing with them the promise of a new dawn, a new canvas to mold and shape. The traveler turned away, the light dimming against the squared horizon, carrying only the memory and the anticipation of the next day's creation.

#sunset #Minecraft #virtual landscape #serene #pixel art #digital world #ocean #trees #tranquility #adventure #AI Art #mineblr #Minecraft Dreams

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ao3-bookmarks · 10 months

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After enduring a brutal defeat, Bowser has seemingly turned over a new leaf. The citizens of Mushroom Kingdom are wary of this, but a peace treaty has been signed between the Mushroom and Koopa kingdoms and a celebration will be held to commemorate the alliance of the once opposing kingdoms.

Luigi has been tasked with personally delivering the invitation for Princess Peach’s ball to celebrate their newfound peace to King Bowser. During his time at the Koopa King’s castle when the chance to get to know each other better arises, a shift happens between them. Unintended openness, kindness, the telling of secrets, and more is revealed, and they realize that perhaps there is more to the other than meets the eye.

I don't know much about Mario. I didn’t grow up on the games or anything. Because of this, I am sure there will be many things that aren’t accurate in this fic, but I am writing this for fun so I hope others enjoy it too even if it is inaccurate.

#Bowuigi

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hosannan · 6 months

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repose of a heartbeat

reply to [this post] that got interrupted by legacy editor: @diadic

He'd messed up somewhere, hadn't he? The prickly tone in Nanna's voice doesn't go unnoticed, thorns in an otherwise stunning rose. Just what about the conversation had made it turn that direction wasn't the clearest to Leif however. Maybe he had imagined it. The topic of Julius's revival (or escape?) was enough to inspire any Jugdrali with fear, and Nanna herself surely had felt it when choosing to bring it up to Leif. After all, just a moment ago, he had started to become consumed by it himself. It's not until Nanna's voice begins to break, a shimmer of hope in that well of darkness causing it to warble ever so slightly, that Leif realizes he's missed something utterly crucial. “ Right. If Jugdral found out, then everything we'd worked for would disappear. Everyone would be afraid again. ” Right when the emancipation of Agustria, Verdane, and Silesse had started to bring the continent into a new era of peace... they couldn't afford to let that shatter. “ Is that so? That's good. I was worried... if we can keep him like that, that'd be good, but he has Loptous's blood. There's no saying how fast that might help him recover... Or if he's working on recovering by training here. I just don't know where he could be... I've been here a year and I haven't seen him at any classes or anywhere in the monastery. ” Where could he be hiding? How did he manage to not come across him or hear of him by now? And if Nanna had discovered him, had Deirdre discovered this by now too? “ Worse comes to worst, we have Lord Seliph here and Ares too... but who we'd really need is Julia. ” For the only thing that could bring the mighty Dark God down was Naga's divine light. They all knew that, but right now, the Tome of Naga was an ocean away... The deep despair blanketing the conversation only grows heavier and heavier, the burden of what information he had remembered he should tell Nanna growing in equal measure. If he told her now, would it make her happy? Or would it be cast in this same oppressive air, tainted by the subject of the Scion of Darkness?

"I think the greatest thing he has on his side now is the fear he's reaped in the past..." She shivered, finally, finally letting her guard down in its entirety. Remembering the fear was somehow far more detrimental than the devil, himself. Here, he was just his mother's lament, but his past reputation had grown into a god in its own right. "Yes, you're right..." A sharp inhale ticked away at her lungs, making her ribs feel all too small for the feeling inside her chest.

"We do have many here at our call. I consider our numbers a glad tiding, to say the least..." Her hands spoke a different tongue, holding onto the side of his arm for a brief repose. Nanna sickened herself, in this weakness of hers, but for all this time, she had forgotten her fear in place of anger. And now that the anger had subsided, there was a spindly seed that still had its roots half-planted in the ground. It wouldn't matter. This fear, this anger, much of it would have to be second to whatever came next.

"Lord Seliph and Julia... I had heard that they were here." A small exhale released from her nose, fondness coming through very evidently. "I really should take some time to sit down with them and ask if they know anything, themselves."

"I've also come across your family and Sara, of course. Ah, and Scathach and Larcei, too." Her eyes seemed a touch distracted, as she began to scour her mind for anything she could have missed. Suddenly, she found it a bit odd that everyone had been gathered in one place. And even odder, still, that many had revived without the usage of the Valkyrie Staff. Whatever greater power had gathered them all here could only spell one of two things for her lord: a great, new hope for their future or... trouble brewing over the horizon.

"Forgive me, Leif."

It's abrupt, but her irises ache with guilt—dull gems to their usual luster. "I should have done more."

#repose of a heartbeat #{ this one's on the tail end I think! give or take a reply or two?#{ also i love how they are constantly being bombarded with new information

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petri808 · 2 years

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1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

@thenaluarchive Nalu Week 7-part story

With almost a week and a half under their belt, the four friends decided to have a lazy day with each doing their own thing. Levy’s boyfriend Gajeel finally had his day off from work and had driven over from Hilo to visit. So, he and Levy took off after lunch to cruise around the west side of the island. Maybe take in a movie at the Keahou theaters and dinner at one of the Kona restaurants. Around the same time they left, a friend of Gray’s named Loke picked him up to hang out and go surfing at a beach called Magic Sands. It wasn’t always the best place to surf, but it was king tides season so the waves were a little bigger than normal.

That left the newly established couple to their own devises.

“That’s a loveseat.” Natsu remarked at the theater’s seating. “A leather loveseat!”

“Well,” Lucy chuckled, “it’s called a luxury cinema for a reason.”

“And they bring our food to us?!” He plops down on the leather chair. “Sweet!”

Why do a Netflix and chill at home when you can get restaurant quality food and a movie theater experience combined? Waikoloa Luxury Cinemas at Queen’s Marketplace and their restaurant The Bistro offered such an experience with meals delivered during the previews. As the lights came down, and food been taken care of, Lucy snuggled up to Natsu. He put his arm around her shoulder and leaned his head against hers, settling in for the movie.

Although things still felt a little awkward, in truth… it really wasn’t. They’d been friends for two years, close friends for almost one, so spending time together was nothing new— just the cuddling part… which had been getting easier over the last couple of days. Lucy’s heart would still skip a beat at his touch, but she didn’t lose her composure as badly. Natsu for his part never pushed and allowed her to gain confidence in their new relationship on her terms.

After the movie ended, they walked back towards the condo. It wasn’t too far of a walk along tree lined sidewalks. They’d passed King Shops, another small shopping center. A golf course on one side of the road, condos and hotels on the other. Every so often Lucy would point out any historical sites, such as a field of ancient petroglyphs that had survived. When they reached Anaehoomalu beach park, the couple decided to take a detour.

Natsu took hold of Lucy’s hand as they walked the sandy white beach between the Hilton Waikoloa and the Waikoloa Marriott. Visitors were sparse on this work day, giving them a peaceful time just listening to the waves and enjoying each other’s company.

“I don’t remember the name,” Lucy pointed to an area between the beach and the Marriott, “but those are ancient fish ponds that the hotel helped to restore. It’s like the Hawaiian version of aqua farming.”

As they got closer, Lucy continued pointing out different features such as wooden slats that allowed water and baby fish to flow in from the ocean, but trapped the fish once they’d grown bigger in the ponds. “If you look closely there’s always eels,” she explained as they leaned over the rock wall that lined the pond. And sure enough, after a couple minutes Natsu could see a few popping they’re heads out of cracks.

They spent some time on the beach before heading to the condo once it got closer to dinner time. When they arrived back, no one had returned yet, so they stayed out on the patio to watch the sunset. It was a partial view of the ocean from the condo, but enough that one could watch the day slowly turning into night. The skies turned reddish orange, while the sun gained a slight greenish hue as it slowly sunk below the horizon.

“You’re hair looks like it’s on fire,” Natsu commented as the suns darkening rays bounced off of Lucy’s golden blonde hair.

Lucy blushed and tucked her hair back out of nervousness. “Really?” She asked sheepishly.

“Really,” Natsu smiled and squeezed her hand.

“I um…” Lucy started to speak, then stopped and kissed him instead. Just a quick one, as her eyes continued to communicate something else and her body leaned in closer.

Taking the hint, Natsu moved in, turning fully towards her while pulling her almost onto his lap. His fingers tangled into her crown as Lucy made moves of her own to wrap her arms around his neck. They’d forgotten all about the sunset. Their lips too wrapped up with one another’s in a full-blown make out session.

“I could…” Natsu mumbled between the kisses, “stay like this forever…”

Lucy sighed, “me, too.” Once the floodgates had opened, she started to realize just how much she’d really fallen for the man.

But the sound of keys and a door opening, eventually broke the spell.

“We should stop before…” Lucy grumped.

“I know,” Natsu sighed. “For now.”

“Before they tease us.” Lucy added.

He placed a hand on her cheek and gently smoothed his thumb over the skin, “do you really care?”

“Mmm, a little…”

“Pfft.” Natsu stood up and pulled her with him. “Then let’s hide in the bedroom,” he teased with a glint in his eye.

That made Lucy giggle as she squeezed his hand in return. They quickly ran past a surprised Gray to the upstairs bedroom and locked Lucy’s door.

“Well, guess I get the room to myself tonight,” Gray chuckled as he headed to his room. “But keep it down!” He yelled as he passed by theirs.

“Too bad, snowflake!”

Eh, they’ll be fine…

#nalu #nalu week 2022 #simply nalu 2022 #fairy tail #natsu dragneel #lucy heartfilia #nalu fanfiction #part 5

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pyrasterran · 1 year

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In the 21st century, the history of Earth was irrevocably altered. The veil between reality and what is now named the Astral Plane shifted across the solar system, bringing beings and events of power, imagination, and nightmares, to life. It was known as the Astral Awakening, and its apex of disaster came with the rise of the Great Beasts. Across the world these giants targeted cities and were only angered by military countermeasures. Beyond the cities ruined by the Great Beasts' rampage, it was as if the planet itself had declared war on humanity: New deadly diseases tore through communities, earthquakes and volcanos brought havoc and the waters rose so high that a third of North America ended up permanently submerged under growing oceans, along with any nation below sea level. For a time, it was believed to be the End of Days.

The tide finally turned when the First Hero appeared. Through a ritual that would come to be known as Astral Drift, the First Hero was able to tap into the raw Astral energy of the Astral Plane, turning him into a god among men with superhuman traits, and a unique special ability to pilot an avatar of Astra of colossal size, allowing him to bring the fight directly to the Great Beasts. His victory against Stonehead was the morale boost humanity needed, and as more people started learning how to achieve Astral Drift, more superpowered warriors joined the world's combined military forces, using their abilities to both help on the battlefield as well as develop new countermeasures to repel or defeat more Great Beasts. Slowly, but surely, one could see peace on the horizon.

Defeated Great Beasts would go into hibernation or move to uncivilized territories and attacks lessened little by little, but the damage to humanity had been significant: Nearly half of the world's population had died from monster, disease, natural disasters, or other people in places where governments collapsed and rule came from the barrel of a gun, or the fist of an Astral Drifter mad with power. The moment of respite was wasted as Great Beasts began encroaching once more into human territory. It was then that unexpected aid came from beyond the veil between worlds. (edited)

The Astral Awakening was not only affecting one Earth, but many, and the shifting of the Astral Plane allowed the inhabitants of other Earths unexpected one-way passage from their dying worlds to this. These humans had taken on different evolutionary paths in their timelines, with physiology, cultures, knowledge and technologies unique to their worlds being brought with them. Some were able to achieve Astral Drift as well, another needed boon. With their combined resources, the "neo races" of mankind were able to finally achieve a newfound peace on Earth. With the threat of Great Beasts greatly reduced from what it once was, Earth's inhabitants could now looked to rebuilding a new society to live in harmony among not only the Great Beasts but themselves, as more radically diverse as they had become.

Across the world, new governments were formed and national borders redrawn as communications and new relations were established with the survivors of the Astral Awakening. Through diplomacy, ingenuity, and war, neo-humanity finally achieved the closest to a lasting world peace that they had seen since before the Awakening. But the bottle had been opened: Superpowered peoples with malevolent intent became a new obstacle, on top of the everpresent threat of Great Beast attack. The ENU (Earth Nations Union) established ADAPT (Astral Drift Analysis, Policing & Training) to train and lead a new generation of heroes to protect and serve the new world.

#astral drift #lore #comics #superheroes #kaiju #monsters #action #art #drawings

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arvend · 1 year

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blown by wind, chance coincidence, comes a paper. probably a letter meant for someone else. only a single sentence is on it thus far, a black ● of ink made on its stark surface.

" I'm really proud of you, you know. "

the smell of cranberry smoothies and the toasted bun of a roast beef-on-weck sandwich. fried shrimp. the air of the ocean. they all come carried over the hills.

the light glimmers ever so brighter.

It's a little chilly, but that doesn't stop him from walking barefoot along the beach, his pants pulled up around his knees, sleeves around his elbows, as he wades through the shallows. He's bent at the waist, his fingers digging into wet sand to scoop up shells. It's a quiet, peaceful activity, something to clear his mind. No one else is around but his team and the wild birds. Mabosstiff runs along the shore, followed by Greedent. Cloyster has ventured into the deeper parts of the water. Toedscruel and Garganacl have burrowed themselves into the sand and Scovillain is chasing after Wattrel. Tropius takes to the skies.

The sun is setting. They should leave soon.

Arven lets the tide wash over his open palm. It steals a few shells from him, but that's fine. He didn't really bring anything to put them in, anyway. It's mostly just the gathering part he likes. They're so old, older than he can even comprehend, thousands upon millions of fossils buried in the sand. It makes him feel so young.

He stands upright and a paper smacks him in the back of the head. A startled grunt leaves him and he reaches back, grabbing it and holding it in front of his face. It's a little wrinkled from being blown in the wind, and he thinks it might be litter until he sees the writing on it. Meant for someone else, most likely, and then the wind stole it away.

Still, he can't help but read it. It's only one sentence.

I'm really proud of you, you know.

It makes him pause. Mabosstiff barks, chasing the tide. He reads it again. It's a simple sentence that falls over him like a warm, comforting blanket. Part of him wonders if there was some force out there that wanted him to get this, or maybe it was simply coincidence.

The wind carries with it from the hills familiar smells from those fleeting times when things were okay. His father taking him to a restaurant as a child, and then buying him a smoothie later and telling him to be careful, don't make a mess! Memories from a later time, when Arven was teaching himself how to cook, meticulously following pre-written recipes, burning his hands, burning his food, but never giving up until he got it right. More recent memories of him making his favorite foods for his new friends — the fried, savory stuff. Not always the healthiest, but he liked to indulge sometimes.

Simple memories that bring him peace.

"Thanks," he says outloud, as if anyone can hear him. The setting sun seems to glow just a bit brighter, the sky awash in orange and pink and gold.

He releases the paper and it flutters away in a gust of wind that blows his hair from his eyes.

It flies far across the waters, far beyond the horizon, and he watches long after he can no longer see it.

Arven smiles.

#anonymous.#ask.#(SHAKING) NOUGHT

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ladypepperofdavenshire · 1 year

Photo

Takes place about ten years after the previous snippet~

Interlude

Waves brushed up against the shore, frothing onto the beach and destroying any remnants of footprints as the tide increased. The reddish sun crouched low on the horizon, hidden for the most part by heavy purple clouds that were creating a massive tower in the sky. There would be a storm come nightfall; it was already raining out on the ocean where the water and clouds blurred together. It was a peaceful comparison to the Capital that they had left hours ago. No one really knew about the little beach house except for maybe Silas, and now Ariadne and Ophelia. It was one of the few things that Judd’s late father had splurged on as a gift to his wife as a little getaway for the family. She had died before they could retire there together, and he had died shortly after in a skirmish on one of Andaseus’s outposts.

Judd felt he was at least fulfilling part of the intentions behind the gift by bringing Ariadne to the house that had sat there without anyone setting foot in it for the past three years.

He looked down as Ariadne stirred a little in her sleep. She was leaning against his chest, her hands folded over the growing swell of her stomach. She was relieved at being able to wear less bulky, concealing clothes with only the three of them at the beach house; the robot attendants weren’t prone to gossip. The gown she had on now was light, appropriate for a tropical setting and doing nothing to hide the advancing pregnancy. At twelve months, she was showing a lot more than she would if it was just one child, which had them both convinced she was carrying multiples. They’d cross that bridge when it came…sooner than anticipated if their joint research proved right about an early delivery.

From the top of the cliffside where the beach house sat near the edge at his back, Judd could hear Ophelia tuning her tone-harp, then launching into one of her new arrangements. It carried down to the beach in crystal clear notes. It was soft with a melancholic touch, something he could only describe as nostalgic, which was fitting for the beach house. He idly brushed at Ariadne’s hair as she seemed to settle back into her nap, then lifted his gaze to watch the approaching storm.

It didn’t take long for his mind to wander away from the peaceful surroundings and back to the tumult that had been left behind for the short reprieve.

Silas didn’t say much, but it was heavily implied that the unrest across the Imperium caused by the man who was only known as “The Demagogue” was starting to gain momentum. He and the Imperial Spies had done what digging they possibly could, but The Demagogue had swept away anything that tied to his past. He was a walking enigma who seemingly sprouted fully grown from one of the temples one day, garnering a sudden following who were loyal to the point of dying for him.

Judd knew that the man was trouble, and he could see that The Demagogue’s influence was spreading across the temples at an alarming rate. What he said wasn’t inherently bad. He pointed out the corruption of the Empire and how the wealthy were only growing wealthier, the poor poorer, and those in between in danger of becoming like the impoverished if conditions persisted.

There was also an edge to him that said he would be more than happy to send his hordes out against the nobles and the Imperial Family to forcibly remove them from their wealth by whatever violent means necessary. It was like a bomb with a cracked casing ready to go off given the slightest jar. And the explosion would be decimating for everyone, not just those that The Demagogue denounced.

That was what Judd was waiting to happen, had been waiting to happen since the man began to crop up across news broadcasts, overshadowing celebrity events and the like. He coordinated with Silas to see that Ariadne didn’t hear much about the details of The Demagogue’s popularity. She didn’t need to know about the hundreds of priests and priestesses he had converted and how there had been several, suspicious, bloody deaths of those from the ruling class who spoke out against The Demagogue and his followers within the past few days. The Demagogue was quick to rule it as “Divine Judgment.” Judd was certain they were assassinations. Ariadne was publicly staunchly neutral about it all, which was probably what kept her from becoming a target.

Yet.

There was still plenty of time for the renegade priest to line his sights up on her, but Judd would be careful to prevent him from pulling that particular trigger, even if it meant jumping in front of the proverbial blaster.

That wouldn’t sit well with Ariadne, of course. She was convinced that they would have a long, happy life together with their children she was carrying. Judd wasn’t sure how well that would go since they were currently hiding the true nature of their relationship, including their secret marriage, and the fact that The Empress was with child from everyone but a handful of people. Keeping the children under wraps had proven to be more and more strenuous for her as they began to develop mentally. Maintaining a strong, overshadowing Empathic presence was required to mask them the more that they grew; this vacation was as much for her as it was for him so she could finally relax that solid, invisible veneer with no one around to mentally prod and accidentally sense the infants.

He screwed his eyes to a squint as he felt a slight throbbing batter from inside his skull. A hand snaked up to the side of his head, tilting it downward. Ariadne’s green eyes still had that tired look in them from her incomplete rest. It was a look that had become typical as of late with the infants in her womb doubling in size, along with The Demagogue problem. She smirked up at him as her fingers rubbed at his jawline.

“I thought we agreed not to think about work while we’re away?”

“How’d you know?”

Her hand shifted higher to rub along the spot where he felt the headache coming on.

“All your worrying woke me up.”

“Sorry,” he replied with a small grimace. Sometimes he forgot how much Empaths could tap into thoughts and emotions around them, even when unconscious. “Want to switch jobs?”

“I doubt you’d be able to handle the rigors of life as an Emperor,” she hummed. “It’s not as exciting. You’d die of boredom within a week.”

“You’re probably right. I’d rather go out fighting anyways.”

Ariadne’s brow puckered.

“What did we agree about that sort of talk too?”

“Not to say it out loud?” he replied cheekily.

She flicked the side of his head with two fingers before the offending hand grew less hostile and resumed easing away the oncoming migraine. Judd lowered his head as the tension started to relax the muscles in his neck and shoulders.

“Whatever is going on outside this little piece of property is going to be completely ignored until we go back,” she said, using some of that tone that came into play when she really needed to act like an Empress. “So the next five days will be spent not thinking about what we left in the Capital and whatever it is you and Old Silas have been discussing behind my back since the two of you think that you’re protecting me from whatever it is you’re being so cryptic about.”

“You catch on pretty quick.”

Ariadne’s expression turned coy.

“I have my ways. Maybe you talk in your sleep and that’s how I’ve been able to keep up with everything.”

“I doubt that,” he countered. “I’d have known by now how much you’d spill about my secrets.”

“Fine. But just remember that I’m not far behind when it comes to your little schemes. So you should think about telling me them sooner instead of later—“

Judd fixed her with a wry look, his tone mimicking her own she’d used on him just a few minutes ago as his voice lilted high to match hers:

“I thought we agreed not to think about work while we’re away, hmm?”

Ariadne squinted at him in response.

“All right, I won’t. I think I’m hungry.”

“You’re always hungry now.”

Something told him not to say it, but he knew he had to. She mock-gasped, though he caught a stifled laugh as her hands drew away from his face to rest on her round belly.

“You would be too if you had five babies relying on you.”

“Quit being so overdramatic,” he retorted with an eye roll. “It’s not five.”

He hoped to the heavens he was right. Ariadne’s head twisted down towards her stomach as she rubbed at the bump.

“Well it’s felt like five lately. Especially with all the kicking. If they’re getting into fights this early they’re going to be little hellions when they’re able to walk.”

“I can tell you it’s not five, and you know we’d know for sure if we got a doctor to–”

The frown that his wife gave him cut him off. They’d discussed that too, and he kept on insisting that they let at least one doctor in on the secret to keep them updated on the health of the infants–and the mother–now that the former seemed to be growing faster. Ariadne’s excuse was always that she didn’t know who she could trust with such a delicate matter, and that if he was as worried about what was going on with the unrest and everything, then giving “the enemy” another hand to play in what would appear to be the Empress having a child out of wedlock would shatter support for her.

He also seemed to give Empaths more credit than he thought. She couldn’t tell the babies apart yet due to how their brains were still developing, so it could have been two…or five for all they knew.

Judd bent down to peck her on the brow.

“Only for an emergency, I know. Your turn to stop worrying.”

The frown melted away from Ariadne’s face as she stretched her neck to return the peck on his jaw, sliding her hands down her stomach.

“But if it’s five…”

“You know I’d be the pushover. It’s up to you to keep them in line.”

“No, you’d have them trained to act like little soldiers in no time. I’m the one who would get run all over by them—you’ve seen me with children.”

Judd seemed to consider.

“You’re right. They’d hogtie you and take over the Empire by the time they’re toddlers.”

That earned him another flick against the head, though the roughness of it was countered by Ariadne’s laughter. Her eyes narrowed as she used both hands to gently pull his head down further.

“I’d be careful if I were you about the sorts of things you say to your Empress. You might face severe punishments if you go on with that kind of treasonous talk.”

Judd bent his head along with Ariadne’s pull.

“I don’t know. Depends on what sort of punishment we’re talking about—“

The distant rumble of thunder out at sea had them both looking to the choppy waters. A strong gust of wind drove a cloud of sand down the beach, colliding with the increasingly bigger waves that pounded onto the shore. Judd was already helping Ariadne sit up, positioning his back so the onslaught of sand peppered that instead of her face.

“We should get up to the house before that storm gets here,” he grunted, gathering the lounge blanket and tossing it over his shoulder. Ariadne was chuckling as he helped her to her feet, one hand sliding under her stomach as her dress flew around her legs.

“You and your terror of the rain,” she laughed. “At least we aren’t in danger of getting trapped in a cave this time.”

Judd dusted sand off her dress before wrapping an arm over her shoulders as they turned to walk to the glinting Lift that would take them to the top of the cliff, whispering close enough to her ear so that he had her giggling:

“Well I’m not the one who fell down that damn hole.”

“Yes you did”—she kissed him on the corner of the mouth—“after I did. It was very brave of you, even if it would’ve been smarter to go get help like I told you to.”

“And since when do I ever follow an order you give me?”

Ariadne looped an arm around his back as she pressed into his side.

“Not often. I should really fire you for being so insubordinate.”

“You really should. Any reason you keep putting that off?”

“I can think of a few…”

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