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For the prompt any, any, there’ll be peace when you are done, for ravenlilyrose Later, much later, when their names have been recorded for the ages, their exploits immortalised in song and tale and ledger, when they have lived for so long nobody remembers they are still alive, or cares at all, Kip climbs the stairs to the room beneath the tower. He bats aside the fishing float and feels the magic in the glass briefly tingle in his fingers.“Fitzroy,” he says quietly, and his fanoa turns to him and smiles.
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for the prompt, The Old Guard/any historical fandom, Andy, new vistas in old places Andy sits on the edge of the fountain with Quynh, ears ringing with the sound of hammers and nose twitching from the smell of sawdust as new buildings rise around them.She first came to Constantinople (as it was then) in 1025 and every time she visits the city seems a little more battered; in 1509, the city smells of drying paint as minarets rise beside the towers of Topkapi; she’s pleased to see the Boukouleon’s old walls standing strong, but the Lauseion’s statues have long since been stolen and Venetian crusaders have bridled the Hippodrome’s horses and taken them to Venice to paw the air beside the Grand Canal. The man beside Andy coughs, “Safety and peace,” he offers, and looks a little disappointed when she does not answer but stares out across the city, remembering smoke and flames.
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For the prompt: Queen’s Thief, Gen’s mum, Gen’s mum becomes the Thief for elementalraven She likes to dance on rooftops, because the view is better from up there and the sky sparkles like diamonds in a handsome man’s hair, the gems so small she could trap them in her fingers. She turns her wrist so the tourmaline necklace in her hands catches the starlight and admires the way the colours change. She stole the necklace from the Attolian Ambassador’s throat as he attended the party still going on downstairs and though her father says girls can’t be thieves she vows to steal that title too.
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for the prompt, Any, any, the world has been changed, do you want to save it by runespoor The King in Red stands on Quechaltan and stares over the city’s smouldering ruins, at steam rising from the twisted ruins of towers and massive, shattered bones.The gods are dead, and something must be found to take their place. The King in Red is ready; he cracks his knuckles and a fusillade of snaps fill the air like bullets.
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For the prompt, the Queen’s Thief, any god, mortality, for scytale The rain falls from the sky like gods’ tears; water pools on the stone, pearls on the girl’s crumpled dress and fills her outstretched hand before trickling away between her fingers. An arm’s length away a fallen sapphire earring gleams like water and Eugenides wipes tears from his face as he bends and picks it up. Gods aren’t allowed to have favourites, but the thief’s daughter is one of Eugenides’, and though he knows that all mortals must die he weeps for her anyway.
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For the prompt, Any, any, cosmetics, for ruthchinn. The artist’s apprentice has a fine hand with a brush and he uses it now to trace long slow strokes over Buru Tovo’s shoulder-blades. He traces round, across Tovo’s ribs, and lower, and as the lines come into view Tovo admires the way the cobalt and gold paint gleams against his skin. The patterns the artists draws aren’t traditional finery; Tovo would chuckle if he tried that, but he laughs anyway, because the brush tickles.
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For the prompt, AC, Edward/Adewale, if you court this disaster I’ll point you home, for anonymous “She knows you’re a pirate,” Adewale says.“That’s why she wants me,” Edward says, preening slightly as he smooths his hair into a style that he probably thinks is rakish but Adewale thinks looks absurd, as if he’s sailing into the teeth of an invisible storm. He sighs, “Get yourself shipwrecked in some girl’s sheets, this time I won’t save you,” but they both know he’s lying.
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For the prompt, Hands of the Emperor, any, travel, for ruthchinn “You can’t sail to Kavanduru,” the boy tells him with eyes as wide as cowries, “That’s out of sight of land!”Buro Tovo finds the child’s concern endearing, if slightly misplaced. He hauls up his anchor-rope, unties the knots with some effort-the rope has swollen somewhat, he should have been more careful- and tosses the rock back into the sea, “I am a Wide Seas Islander,” he tells the boy, tasting the words on his lips like salt because it feels good to speak his people’s name after so long on the seas, “Sailing out of sight of land is what we do.”
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For the prompt, Redwall, any, Weasel necromancy, for shinon Long ago, when the mouse-lords still ruled over the valleys of Redwall, when the winter came from all directions with great frosts and keen winds, and the mouse-lords struck down any vermin they pleased with their swords, and called them evil, Cluny the Courageous, the last king that stood between the vermin and their certain doom, was at last struck down, and all the vermin trembled, for they knew that nothing stood before their families and the terrible sharp swords of the mouse warriors.Now, the vermin gathered Cluny’s body from beneath the bell where he had fallen and laid him out with his great sword Damage-twig at his side, ready for the pyre, when a weasel daughter stepped forwards and with her chin high said that she knew how to restore Cluny’s breath with a yellow flower which her folk used as medicine.Many doubted, saying that nobody should raise the dead, but the daughter did not tremble but stood firm, and she took the flower and applied it to Cluny’s many wounds and laid it on his forehead, and he rose from his grave, saying that he had walked between the worlds and vowing vengeance on the mouse-folk, and the vermin drove the mouse-folk from the valleys of Redwall, and lived there for many years in peace.
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For the prompt: Greek myths, Hades/Persephone, climate change, for ruanchunxian “Do you have to go so early?” Hades asks, taking Persephone’s hand and running his thumb over her knuckles, “It’s barely Anthesterion.”Persephone sighs, because she can never resist Hades and he knows it, “Love, you know I have to go when my mother makes the first field sprout.”“Your mother,” he says, pouting, “You know she never liked me,” and Persephone smiles but leaves him anyway.
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For the prompt Mass Effect, any, And as far as you have gone, someone will go beyond, we are many now with even more to come, for Be_themoon They say krogan can fight anything, quarians can fix anything, and humans will fuck anything, but Liara never believed the stereotypes before she boarded the Normandy.“Please don’t tell me you slept with a Collector,” she says, as Shepard grins.“Not just one Collector, they’re a hive mind; it’s like doing all of them.”
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For the prompt, Assassin’s Creed, Edward Kenway, the past is never dead, it’s not even past, for anonymous He hears voices in his dreams, and beneath closed lids he sails in his mind to shores he’s never seen; far Egypt where pyramids and palms cluster round water more precious than diamonds, a long gone England that he does not recognize, where fur-clad warriors war on wolves and slay white bears with shining blades, a hard dry land of mosques and minarets worn thin by war. In every land the wind is full of whispering voices that repeat the same words endlessly; nothing is true and everything is permitted.The dream means that the world is his to take, Edward decides as he rises, and though, as usual, he’s picked what he wants from his prize and discarded the rest, the Creed remains, a stowaway in his subconscious mind.
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For the prompt, The Mandalorian, Din Djarin/Bo-Katan Kryze, blood is running deep/some things never sleep, for vialethe She knows the Mythosaur is down beneath the city, the great horned skull sliding past skyscraper foundations, knows it the way she knows the way her blood beats through her veins, the way she knows that her and Din will build a new Mandalore together.The first Mandalore rode the mythosaur, and Bo-Katan is not so bold, but in this new fallen age the sight alone has marked her in a way she doesn’t fully understand and perhaps never will.“Did you see it?” she asks him, “It must have been what dragged you down,” and though Din runs his fingers over the teeth marks in his armour he shakes his head and says, “It could have been anything” and Bo-Katan shivers as she looks into the water and remembers.
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For the prompt, Nine Worlds, Artorin Damara, isolation, for ruthchinn The rituals end in later afternoon and begin again once night has fallen. This gives the young man a fleeting few hours to himself in the brief golden hours around sunset, and he licks salt from his lips as he stares out the window and dreams. He listens to the wind as it moans through the reeds, tilting his head to hear the sand singing as it cools, drifting, grain by grain, into a myriad of mandala-like dunes, the sound nearly inaudible beneath the crash of waves rushing from the ocean to rend themselves against the rocks.
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For the prompt, Marvel, any media type, Loki, god of stories Loki knows that history is written by the winners, and so he ensures his name is on everyone’s lips before he even reaches Earth. ‘Loki Lives’, ‘Loki Rules’, and even just ‘Loki’ appear scrawled in scarlet fireworks during New Year celebrations on Sydney’s Harbour Bridge, branded on the stripy hide of a rather surprised newborn zebra calf in Tanzania, engraved in hieroglyphics upon the wall of a newly discovered Ancient Egyptian tomb, spelled out in vapour trails by a pilot hired to celebrate a proposal over Nijmegen and scraped out in stony lines in a remote area of Peruvian desert. Because humans love stories, and there’s no better story than a whodunnit.
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For the prompt, Star Wars, any, the Jedi as a religious organisation for anonymous Q: How did the dissolution of the Jedi Order benefit Emperor Palpatine?A: Palpatine seized the Jedi’s land and assets; the Jedi Knights themselves were slain, and the goods inside the temples were sold off. Much of the money gained was used to fund the war against the political organisation that would be later be known as the Rebel Alliance or wasted on intimidating yet hopelessly impractical weapons such as the Death Star, indirectly leading to Palpatine’s defeat and eventual death at the hands of Darth Vader in the year 4 ABY.
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For the prompt, Any, any, Lady of the forest house, for anonymous “I should have known,” Sarkan says when I show him my cottage in the Wood, “that you’d choose this when you could live like a queen in my tower.”It’s autumn and the old oak tree has scattered golden leaves across the thatch, the blackberry thicket by the door is heavy with fruit, the cellar stuffed full with gleaned preserves, the woodpile tucked in beneath the eaves has enough fuel for two bad winters, and the windows and doors are chinked up tight and cosy for the winter.“We don’t all need a tower to proclaim to the world how perfectly upstanding we are,” I say, and watch him blush.
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For the prompt, Any, any, narwhals and belugas, for anonymous Eivor is riding hard beside the fjord when the whale surfaces, snorting a plume of steam into the air that makes her mare shy.It’s midsummer but there are still icebergs in the fjord this far north; if the whale hadn’t spouted she might have mistaken it for an iceberg itself, its skin is the same pure hue as glacier ice, the white of polished ivory, of freshly stripped bone.The beluga swims easily beside her for a while, breaching the surface with a huff as it keeps pace with Eivor’s horse, who swishes her tail but tolerates the creature for the few moments before it flicks its tail up in a muscular curve and vanishes into the fjord’s freezing depths.
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For the prompt, Any, any, paper, gunpowder, silk, bronze, compass, for anonymous Edward steals the sea-chest and prises off the lock, hoping for goods to sell, but the contents make him hesitate for a moment. A rolled map, the paper worn greasy by handling and smeared with something that surely can’t be blood, a pouch of soft leather that reeks of gunpowder, a bolt of fine silk so water-stained it’s worthless, a tiny bronze statue of a many-armed goddess gripping a dagger in one upraised hand and a severed head in the other, and a compass that stubbornly points west no matter how he shakes it; individually the goods are worth nothing but together they speak of something greater, a life of adventure that sings in his blood and whispers seductively in his ear.Edward hesitates but he has debts that must be paid so he tucks the chest beneath his arm and goes to pawn it anyway.
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For the prompt, Greek mythology, Amphitrite and Thetis, we are all the seas that circle the world, for anonymous They say that there are seven seas, each with its own goddess, but really there are only two that matter; Amphitrite, wife of Poseidon, queen of the sea, and Thetis, called Seaborn, goddess of water. Thetis rules the island-studded Adriatic, the Black Sea and the landlocked Caspian; Amphitrite takes the Mediterranean, the Red Sea and the bitter Persian Gulf. They share the Aegean, birthplace of civilisation, between them, because neither of them can bear to lose it.
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For the prompt, Any, any, dagger and cloak, for anonymous “You look ridiculous,” Malik says.“I look stealthy,” Altair corrects him, drawing the hood of his new cloak around his face and turning on his heel so the cloak flares out dramatically.Malik snorts, “Go dress as a beggar and sit in a muckpile, you’d be surprised how many people don’t notice you then.”
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For the prompt, Any, any, Jurassic Park AU, for araknifae “Oh, really,” Malik says as the Jeep judders to a halt and all the lights go out, “I can think of at least seven possibly ways this could go horribly wrong.”The rain hammers against the windows as the goat bleats frantically, then falls silent in a crunch of bone as the tyrannosaur crushes the fence beneath one clawed foot and stalks out into the road. “Ten,” Malik says, “I’ve thought of three more just sitting here.”
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For the prompt, Anastasia, Dmitri, the scent of violets, for anonymous Not all adventures are balls in grand palaces or daring midnight train rides, and they’re down on their luck one cold winter in Paris when they step into the perfumers for a little taste of luxury, all cut-glass and roses and their stolen finery just grand enough that the assistant curtsies to them when Dimitri waves her away.“My favourite,” Anastasia says, her hand hesitating on a tiny crystal vial, “Violets, but we can’t afford it.”“We don’t have to,” Dimitri says, taking the bottle and slipping it into his sleeve.
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For the prompt, AC, Kassandra, night is now falling/so ends the day/the night is still calling/and I must away, for be_themoon The moon is orange as a cat’s eye and it’s closer to morning than night, but the party till continues inside, long past the abilities of the people there to celebrate the guest of honour or even watch her leave.The stable boy stifles a yawn as he saddles Kassandra’s horse, he’s been up all night with a foaling mare, “Lady,” he asks, no doubt anticipating questions if she is found vanished in the morning, “do you have to go now?”“I’m needed,” she says, “I must go, that’s what heroes do.”
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For the prompt, Mandalorian, Mandalorian/Bo-Katan, troubled relationships, for vialethe “The helmet,” he says and she stops him with a hand held to her lips.He’s naked, lean and hard against the bed, but he still wears his helmet and she cats her eyes over the line where the metal touched his skin, where flesh and bone gives way to shining, unyielding armour.“Leave the helmet on,” she says, and kisses every part of him that she can reach.
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For the prompt, Mass Effect, Shepard, I’m sorry, I don’t take orders, I barely take suggestions, for be_themoon. “Put me down” squeaks the Volus, but Shepard only leans forwards and the Volus only dangles further out over the drop.“I don’t take orders from you,” Shepard says softly while Liara tries not to look nervous. She knows Shepard won’t really drop him but there’s a glint in Shepard’s eyes that the Volus probably thinks is pure evil but Liara knows Shepard well enough by now to know is mischievous, “Besides, I’d advise you to think very carefully about whether you want me to do that.”
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For the prompt, Any, any, enemies to lovers, but still remaining enemies, for jigglygrlcarrie “Be quiet or they’ll hear us,” Burr says, but he hauls Hamilton up against the wall anyway.“They won’t believe it,”“I don’t believe this,” Burr says, his voice muffled by Hamilton’s mouth, but Hamilton just rolls his eyes and kisses him harder, “I don’t hate you, I just hate your principles.”
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For the prompt, Any, any, these two guys, for Galadryels There’s always trouble when the market closes, everyone heading home with coin in their pockets and wine on their breath, and so the gate guards aren’t surprised when a trader reels, drunk or fume-addled, and lands an elbow in the ribs of a one-armed beggar who retaliates with maybe too much enthusiasm.Curses and fists fly and the guards roll their eyes as they leave their posts and cross the courtyard, swapping their swords for staffs as the crowds scatter.The guards have already decided just how much force will be needed to break up the fight and so they’re surprised when Malik and Altair turn as one and fall upon them, leaving them stretched out and stunned, alive and breathing but unable to resist as the Assassins head towards the now unguarded gate.
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For the prompt, The Old Guard, joe/nicky, everyone here has loved and lost, for be_themoon “You know what they say,” Nicky says, looking mournful. His sad expression reminds Joe of a particularly sensual Renaissance statue, Saint Sebastian perhaps, pierced by arrows, or perhaps the one of Satan that got thrown out of church for being too erotic, “It’s better to have loved and lost than never have loved at all.”“Bullshit,” Joe says, “It’s better to love and keep on loving.”
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For the prompt Mandalorian, Din Djarin/Bo Katan, and he closed his eyes and hear no sound/but her breathing warm against his mouth, for vialethe “Will you take the helmet off?” she asks and he nods, though his fingers fumble over catches he has loosed a thousand times. It takes him a few attempts to pull the helmet over his head, the metal suddenly heavy in his hands as years of tradition and dogma peel away with his armour. He sets the helmet aside, keeping his eyes on his reflection in the metal; questioning dark eyes, tousled sweaty hair, stubble badly in need of a trim, and then he turns to Bo-Katan and sees her for the first time, not through the helmet’s visor but with his own eyes.
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For the prompt, Any, any, I will break their will, their faith their soul, their hearts, for anonymous. The villagers are already dead when Joe and Nicky reach the farm, snow crusting on their open mouths and outstretched hands, their blood freezing on the ice in scarlet spatters all around them.Nicky goes deep inside himself as they hunt through the buildings for survivors, coldly furious with fate, with the gods, with the soldiers who did this, with whoever is listening. Joe knows better to speak to him in this mood but when they have scoured the whole valley and found nobody living he grips Nicky’s shoulder and says “Love, don’t take it so hard,” and Nicky snarls at him “What are we made for, then, what is all of it worth is not to save them?” and Joe has no answer.
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For the prompt, any, any, lucky opals, for anonymous. Hytham hoped to hide the stones from Randvi until the Midsummer feast, but he’s undone by his own pleasure in the gift when Randvi discovers him one day holding the opals up to the light and admiring the way the jewels sparkle in the wan northern sunlight. He took the stones in trade long ago, attracted by the way they splinter light into tiny knifelike rainbows, pointing the way to a miniature Valhalla, but he never found any use for them until he saw that one of Randvi’s brooches was dented in the last battle and he spent several weeks and more coin than he should finding a blacksmith who would mount the opals into a matched pair of brooches.“What are they?” she asks him as he gives them to her, “Opals,” he says, “they’re lucky, you know.”
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For the prompt, any, any, kelp cathedral, for anonymous Light lances through the depths like a spear, shining through the grove of kelp that rises to a high arch over a circle of pure white sand; the sunrays flickering far over Ariel’s head as the kelp writhes and twists in the currents of the cold northern seas.The kelp’s patterns are planted far too regularly to be natural and Ariel wonders if the hall was once a cathedral of some far northern mer-kingdom, but seals and sleek-furred otters are the church’s congregation these days and there’s no trace of any gardeners.Ariel stays as long as she can before she kicks towards the surface and the ship floating there, because Eric will worry and though Ariel can hold her breath longer than anyone born human, nowadays she still needs air.
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For the prompt, any, any, red beet, saffron, spinach, squid ink, for anonymous Malik doesn’t want to be a mapmaker but if he’s going to be forced into this fake job he might as well be good at it. Today he’s experimenting with inks; bowls of red beets, saffron, spinach and foul liquid the seller swore was squid ink but Malik suspects is fermented fish guts crowd the desk. “What is this stuff?” Altair asks when he visits, leaning over the desk, and Malik jogs the table and manages to spill the whole mess all down Altair’s robe.
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For the prompt, Claudia Auditore, precious like starlight, she’ll bring in a murderous price, for schoolsasaint. Claudia might have been raised a noblewoman but she followed her mother to the market from the time she was tall enough to hold a basket without it dragging on the floor. The Auditores had a reputation for good bargaining before her brother gave them a name for something else; she can weigh and measure with the best of them, she knows all the tricks and turns, the chalk dust in the flour, the yellow thread replacing costly saffron and even though it has been many years since she last purchased groceries, she still knows to the nearest coin how much to pay for milk.She does not disagree that the Templars need to die, but she also knows there’s a price for everything and wonders; how much will their debt be, when payment finally falls due, and who will have to pay it.
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For the prompt, Nine Worlds series, adding salt to tea, for adaeze Tovo isn’t thirsty but he takes what is offered and so he nods and says thank you when the Emperor’s attendant offers him a cup. He’s already tasted all the tiny boxes on the table, licking his fingers with gusto as the attendant’s expression freezes into a mask of horrified curiosity, and he knows after the first sip just what this drink needs to turn it into something he might actually enjoy. He opens a box of bone white china and drops a pinch into his tea, drinks, and sighs with satisfaction as the salt on his lips reminds him of home.
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For the prompt, Any, any, So, a mariner, I long for a land-fall, for anonymous It’s a short voyage and a profitable one. Edward knows he should be happy they’re cruising on a fair wind but at least once a day he turns to speak to Adewale and finds his first mate gone.He resists as long as he is able, but after a week he sighs and sets a course for shore.
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For the prompt, any, any, Amazons and Valkyries, for anonymous “What’s your name?” Eivor asks, and the woman says, “Kassandra.” She’s dressed too lightly for the weather, in a short tunic belted at the waist, and her armour is fashioned from bronze rather than iron, which Eivor thinks would be a poor protection in a fight. They could not be different but they share a certain economy of movement Eivor recognizes, a look in Kassandra’s dark eyes Eivor’s seen reflected in still water, and when Eivor holds up her hidden blade and unsheaths the dagger Kassandra smiles and produces a similar gauntlet.
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For the prompt, Any, any, I think we’re like fire and water, I think we’re like the wind and sea, for anonymous. “Sometimes,” Nicky says, his voice a little rough and dreamy as he threads one hand through Joe’s hair, “I think you’re a djinn sent to taunt me.”“At least you got the mythology right this time,” Joe laughs, as Nicky has a tendency to slip back into Christian stereotypes when he’s distracted, “What does that make you, a mermaid or something?”Nicky laughs back and nips Joe’s ear, “A siren,” he says, “You’d hear me calling on the wind and dive right into the sea.”
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For the prompt, Any, any, on your third broken window with your hair full of glass, for mkrobinson Seifer runs his hand through his hair, dislodging chunks of glass that tinkle to the floor to form a sharp mosaic at his feet. It’s not the first time he’s been grateful for his gloves. He glances up, curling his hands into fists so they don’t shake even a bit, wincing as a splinter as he’s missed bites deep, and sees his Sorceress watching him with violet eyes sharper than the glass, her mouth tight in a disapproving line that never falters as a voice in his head says Don’t disappoint me again.
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For the prompt, Any, any, to meet your soul mate in a fight to the death is the cruellest irony, for mkrobinson They’ve killed each other in a dozen different lands, thirteen if you count the Kingdom of Jerusalem, which Yusuf never does. He’s fled the scene a dozen times before, running from vengeance or fear or himself, but now he waits in silence until the Frankish soldier groans and rises to his knees.“Why’d you wait? he asks Yusuf, voice still raspy and Yusuf says “You know why,” and kisses him.
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for the prompt Treasure Planet, Captain Amelia, soft though these stars seem, for schoolsasaint The stars are like many things, beautiful but they’ll break you if you let them, get too close and they’ll shatter you on their rocks or burn you with their flames.Amelia has sailed the stars for years and knows herself their equal, knows how to ignore their siren song. She gives the black hole a wide berth, feeling the tension in her arms and back as the gravity well drags at them, and her claws flick out to grip the wheel.
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For the prompt, Henry 5 or Hollow Crown, Henry/Katherine Henry doesn’t die young, for ruanchunxian “Je t’aime,” he says and Katherine smiles and says “I love you too.”She still retains a trace of her French accent, which secretly pleases Henry, it never harms them to remind the court that the bonds between England and France are strong enough to be nigh on unbreakable, more than forty years after Agincourt.As he smiles at her it occurs to him that in his younger, rasher days, he never thought he’d be remembered as the king who achieved more with kisses than he ever did with a sword.
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For the prompt, Any, any, I keep all your secrets by the dozen, you know where my skeletons sleep, for raisedbymoogles Harrowhark hides skeletons everywhere; locked in closets, tucked away in corners or stitched into her clothes; even her skirts are patterned with beads made from ossicles, metacarpals and delicate phalanges, probably with sinew for thread, Gideon thinks, sewn with a bone needle.Gideon amuses herself when she is bored by tracking down all Harrow’s bones and smashing them to pieces, and on especially dull days she grinds the shards to dust so Harrow will have no idea where all her skeletons have gone.After a particularly tedious weekend Gideon returns to her cell to find all her dirty magazines torn to shreds and topped with a note in spiky handwriting that says I WILL END YOU and as she pieces the pages together she wonders what she can do to up her game
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For the prompt, Assassin’s Creed, any, Bronte crossover, for caroline “I don’t see how I’m meant to fight in these clothes,” Altair grouses, pulling at the tall, starched points of his collar.Malik rolls his eyes. “Don’t complain,” he says, raising his cane to rap on the door of the Haworth parsonage where their newest recruits reside. “At least you don’t have to do it in a bonnet.”
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For the prompt, Any, any, go turn your back to the cold, face the raging storm and carry on, for anonymous (Assassin's Creed, Altair) The soldiers chasing Altair gave up long ago but he keeps going anyway because he's high enough into the mountains that if he stops he'll freeze to death. The clouds towering above his head shred themselves to pieces on the peaks as the wind howls at him in dead men's voices.The nearest safe house Altair knows is half a day to the north and he half-hopes to see the village as he crests the mountain's saddle, but the horizon is a storm-shrouded icy maw without buildings in sight and no man can kill a storm so he leans into the teeth of the wind and continues down the ridge.
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For the prompt, Star Wars, Obi-Wan, I believe in forgiveness but I don't know if people can change, for evanui On bad days he thinks that Darth Maul won when he killed Qui-Gon. Nobody else in the Jedi Order was capable of dealing with Anakin’s problems, not Yoda, not Mace and certainly not him.He would forgive Luke and Leia's father anything, but Anakin is gone as if he never existed, without even a grave, and Obi-Wan wonders if someone changes that much, can they ever change back?
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For the prompt, Final Fantasy, any, any potions or magic used in BDSM, for juushika (Seifer/Edea) She scores lines into his back with her nails and kisses him deeply before drawing back to whisper Fira just loud enough for him to hear. He jerks his head back and spasms against the ropes, pupils widening as she pours magic into his wounds. First fire, then ice, just enough to sting, enough to show him just how much he wants to submit.
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For the prompt, Final Fantasy, any, revives or phoenix downs used in BDSM or dub noncon, for juushika (Seifer/Edea) Ultimecia's claws around her mind loosen, just a bit, fingers flexing as they pull free, and Edea shivers and looks around for the first time in days.The room smells pungently of blood and sex, and she's wearing something tight made from leather and holding a bloodstained knife which falls from her hand as she rushes forwards to where Seifer hangs on the frame. When she touches his cheek his head hangs limply and when she wipes blood from his lips she feels no breath on her fingers, so she summons all the strength she has and casts phoenix downs until her palms sting and he lifts his head, fear fighting with arousal in his eyes and as Ultimecia's hold on her tightens she knows he won't remember that she killed him, only that she saved his life.
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For the prompt, The Old Guard, Andy, I think hell is something you carry with you not somewhere you go, for be_themoon “What's it called?” Andy asks abruptly, still staring at the painting. The burgher standing next to her gives her an odd look for being so direct but answers anyway.It's the most extraordinary thing she's ever seen and she's seen enough to believe that he'll is no imaginary place but something you carry with you, and whoever the artist was they got the hopeless horrified stare in the eyes of the damned just right.
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For the prompt, Any, any, faith is my pillar, for mkrobinson “God sent you,” the farmer says.“I sent myself,” Malik replies although it's not exactly true, the Assassins had word from a trader who saw the Templars heading out from Acre a week ago and carried news to a village where they kept Alamut trained pigeons, and a bird small enough to hold in Maliks hand spent half a day flying against the wind to reach Alamut, where three Assassin masters made a best guess at the route and sent Malik who spent three days of hard riding through rain soaked hills and a day of trudging through the mud when his horse threw first him and then a shoe in quick succession, not to mention years of training, of running rooftops and midnight practice just so he can wield a blade when he needs to and kill three Templars in time to save the man’s family from dying.“It was God's work,” repeats the pious man and Malik pinches the bridge of his nose and wishes it was that simple.
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For the prompt, Bo-Katan Kryze/Din Djarin, I'm wanting your anger/ I only want to see if I can shake you out of sleep /and bring you out under this flooded sky/ at any price, for vialethe It's not the first time they've fought but it's the first time they've done so with words and not fists and neither of them pull their punches, fighting with the same deadly economy as they duel.“We're meant to be together, she tells him, “A community, watching each other’s backs, otherwise the first time we fall asleep, get wounded or sick we die.”“It doesn't have to be you,” he says, “You don't have to rule them,” and he shakes his head like he knows she won’t understand, that streak of stubborn independence surfacing like the mythosaur she can't forget.
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for the prompt, Final Fantasy 12, Fran, outlaw, for shinon When the Queen outlawed Fran she told her that every hand would be turned against her, how humans would hunt her and how when they found her they would kill her; how she should find a cause to die for or die trying.Fran has done her best to fulfil her Queen's orders, but outlawry has not been what she expected. As she walks into the bar and sees every eye turn towards her, hears the humans whisper she wonders wearily just how many fingers she will be forced to cut off this time.
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For the prompt, Aladdin, Jafar what caused Jafar’s fixation on the throne, for MKROBINSON He was once a street rat too, skinny enough to slither through a window with shutters left carelessly open, and clever enough to realize as soon as his hands closed around the staff that the shutters were left open because nobody is crazy enough to steal from a sorcerer.Terrified, Jafar stands sweating, hands clenched on the staff because he's far too scared to drop its and a voice he does not yet know how to hate slithers inside his mind, “You have two choices,” it hisses, “Swear yourself to me or die screaming, thief.”“Why don't you just kill me?” he asks and it laughs snakily and tells him that souls freely given are worth much more than souls taken and only one of those options ends with him alive.
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For the prompt, The Little Mermaid, Ursula, backstory for MKROBINSON Really she was doomed from the moment she slithered from her mother sporting tentacles instead of fins.Octopus are too smart for their own good and they're not pretty like the fish folk, plus they can predict the future and everything she sees there tells her she's screwed.Ursula squares her shoulders and decides that if everyone expects her to be evil then they better watch out because evil she'll be.
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For the prompt, Greek mythology, Metis and Hera, a tough act to follow, for last_haven “I wouldn't mind him fucking human women, Hera says to Metis when they're lounging in a bar, a rapidly emptying glass in each of their hands, “but does he always have to do it in some strange form?”“I know,” Metis agrees, “A bull I could understand, that sort of beast has-” She pauses, “Connotations. But a swan, a shower of gold? It’s humiliating. You know the stories always get out.”
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For the prompt, Encanto, any, Encanto goes to war, for communi_kate It's about two weeks after Casita is completed and they're all settling into their rooms when Bruno tumbles downstairs in a flurry of rats and tousled brown hair, “The mountain!” he hisses, grabbing Mirabel’s shoulders, and shaking her until she whimpers and he releases her apologetically, “It broke open when the miracle failed, there's a way into the valley, they're coming, they're coming now, we have to go!”“The riders,” Abuela whispers, Dolores tilts her head, “Bruno’s right,” she says, “I can hear them now.”
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For the prompt, Encanto, Bruno, mochila or Columbian bag, for communi_kate The bag is bigger than it looks but that's not the reason Bruno always keeps it by his side. There's more than enough room for a comfortable nest of torn paper and rags that will hold one or two or half a dozen rats. The rats like to get out of the house occasionally, and they find it easy to stay hidden, peering through the eyelet holes punched through the top of the bag as they somehow manage to keep their balance on a shifting tide of Bruno’s possessions; he never has trouble finding things with the rats around, they always seem to know exactly what he needs at any given moment.
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For the prompt, Elizabeth Bear, Bone and Jewel Creatures, any, I can feel it in my bones, for communi_kate The creatures feel it first. Ambrosius clatters up to the rafters and twines along the joists, and even huge Hawti tilts her head to stare at nothing, Bijou’s old bones ache too but these days that never seems to cease.“Something’s coming!” Brazen whispers and Bijou shakes her old head and says “Trouble, that’s what.”
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For the prompt, Obsidian and Blood, Acatl and Acamapichtli, we both know you don't, for communi_kate “It has to be you, Acatl,” says Acamapichtli, “we both know you don't have any vices.”“I care about my family,” Acatl says, defensively.Acamapichtli sighs. “Acatl, that's not a vice, that's a virtue.”
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For the prompt, Obsidian and Blood, Acatl and Acamapichtli, frenemies, for communi_kate “You thought what?” Acamapichtli says in disbelief.The petitioner kneeling before him quails a little at the sudden sharpness in the priest’s voice but he repeats himself anyway with a barely perceptible pause, “I thought you could intercede on my behalf with Lord Death's priest, seeing as the two of you are friends.”Friends? Acamapichtli would and has risked his life for Acatl without a second thought while simultaneously finding him vastly annoying at times and he suspects the other priest feels much the same about him, “You can speak to Acatl yourself,” he tells the man, knowing receiving petitioners irritates Acatl far more than Acamapichtli does.
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For the prompt, The Road to El Dorado, Cortez, Jaguar God for communi_kate The deeper Cortez goes into the jungle the harder he finds it to hold it all together.Something savage in the swamp is stalking them, something heathen and unholy, so he orders the priests to march in front, holding a statue of Christ and a staff the priests swear contains Saint Peter’s finger, but by nightfall the golden crosses have grown tarnished and the statues chip on overhanging branches, revealing cheap plaster, and one priest falls into a mosquito infested swamp so deep it takes an hour to rescue him and dies babbling that night from a fever no amount of medicine can treat.That night Cortez hears something screaming in the jungle, an unearthly lost soul wailing that raises his hackles and is soon joined by other screams as the jaguars tear the camp apart.
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For the prompt, Beowulf, Hrothgar and Grendel, blood feud, for communi_kate She was beautiful once, lithe and lovely as the fire that floats each evening above the peat-stained pools, and foolish enough to take a mortal man to bed, to lie with him upon a floating island in the Marsh and birth his litter, six strong sons.Years later, when Hrothgar wed his human wife, he killed them all but the last, the least, the youngest.Hrothgar told nobody of his island indiscretion, but the grieving mother whispered war into her last son’s ear until he was grown enough to vow vengeance, to take up arms and lose them, too, in Heorot Hall.
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For the prompt, Evita, Evita/Che, I’ll hold the pieces all together with my hands, for communi_kate “You don't know how hard it is,” Eva says defensively as they waltz and Che spins her a little too fast and tells her “Sweetheart, I know exactly how hard.”While she hands out holidays and cooking pots people are arrested for protesting, for daring to question the state’s generosity, for publishing newspapers that oppose Peron and his new bride.You could ask him to set up a department to do the same thing much more efficiently he says and she stares at him with huge dark eyes and says, “But they wouldn't feel heard,” and he scoffs and says, “You mean you wouldn't feel needed.”
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For the prompt, Peaky Blinders, Tommy, the past is gone but something might be found to take its place, for communi_kate. Grace was an angel, everyone agrees, and even though she betrayed Tommy she sealed the whole deal by dying while she was still young and beautiful, saving his life.Lizzie knows she'll never be Grace but she knows what Tommy needs and she does what she can. So she spends her savings on a green silk dress and some expensive perfume that smells nothing like the scent Grace used to wear and she sits and watches Tommy and sees his head swivel as he watches her back.
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For the prompt, Craft Sequence, King in Red, with you to the end, for communi_kate Sometimes he wonders why he kept the altar.It makes a terrible desk, he can't wedge his knees beneath it and the moment he drops anything it shatters on the stone.Then he looks past the photograph at the stain magically imbued into the granite, the only two things remaining of his lover on this earth, and he knows.
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For the prompt, Assassin’s Creed, any, you’ve lost your heart inside this war, for communi_kate “Duty and vengeance are all we have left,” Aya says, “The old gods would understand.”Bayek nods, but though he shares her thirst for vengeance part of him still yearns for their simple house in Siwa, for Khemu pressed between them both and Aya’s arms wrapped around him on cool nights, when he kept people safe and never hunted anything more dangerous than desert lions and the odd bandit.They will never have another son, he knows, and that's a heavy thought, even for the stone scarab his heart has become.
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For the prompt, Hexarchate, Jedao, you are the hunters we are the foxes, for communi_kate Jedao has never seen a real fox, but he knows their reputation, clever and sly.Seeing real foxes seems like something a Shuos would do, and so while he's on leave he finds a wildlife park and follows the crumpled paper map to the foxes’ walk-in enclosure.The fox eyes him warily and refuses to take food from his hand, and Jedao nods approvingly, He expected nothing less.
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For the prompt, Beowulf, Wealhtheow, one translation of her name means foreign slave She chose her chance well, wrested by raiders from her home hearth, hardly a woman when she was stolen as a slave.The ship that held them was raided in its turn, hauled up as a hoard by Helming heroes, treasures taken. Wealhtheow bound herself to Hrothgar’s bed before she stood revealed as Princess, a pretty peaceweaver, and Hrothgar brought her home and married her, how could he not?, weighted with gold by her father, an end to their war.
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For the prompt, Light from Uncommon Stars Katrina, bittersweet symphony, for communi_kate “Life isn’t all high Cs, you know,” Astrid says, sliding a bowl of udon noodles across the worktop towards Katrina and smiling as Katrina cradles the bowl and raises the spoon towards her lips.Katrina’s learning to have favourites even though she won't admit it, and today's broth is a hug in a bowl, something Astrid cooked up for when Katrina’s tired and hungry, rich with scallions and a poached egg and bursting with umami flavours.“You already know this, of course,” Astrid continues, “but you can't have the majors without the minor chords.”
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For the prompt, The Road to El Dorado/Hunchback of Notre Dame, Tzekel Kan/Esmeralda, shadow and the flame She sees him in the market, a tall, raw-boned man with a tail of long black hair and a tattooed stripe across the high bridge of his nose.“Don’t you go near him now,” a woman warns her, “the filthy heathen,” and Esmeralda tilts her head and steps closer, she's spent her life avoiding those sort of warnings and on the whole found her life a better place for it.A spotted cat twines round his feet, she crouches and calls the animal towards her but it ignores her and writhes ecstatically around his ankles as he bends down to rub its ears and Esmeralda wonders despite herself how those hands would feel against her skin.