#(I don’t know what her survival chances are but she was still resting-but-definitely-alive when I checked a couple days later)

[arachnophanatic]

SALTICID SATURDAY: adult female Phidippus californicus

[solelifauna]

Definitely NOT Invincible (Yandere Invincible & Reader) Pt.2

Of reunions, both good and bad. Nonetheless, still heartbreaking for our dear (Y/n).

It all hit you at once. You hadn’t just survived somehow. You had fucking time-traveled. You were back. Back before everything went to hell. Before Omni-Man and Mark, Invincible, revealed their true selves and shattered the world.

You crumpled to the floor, knees hitting the soft carpet as the enormity of the situation weighed on your chest, crushing the air out of you. It felt like someone was squeezing your lungs, and no matter how much you gasped, you couldn’t breathe. Your head spun as you tried to fight off the oncoming panic attack. Tears welled in your eyes as your trembling hands gripped the edge of the bed for support.

You had died. You had felt your father—your own father—kill you. And now, somehow, you were alive again, thrown back into a time when everything was still normal. But it wasn’t normal.

You were back in your house, back with them. With your family. With him.

God, you were going to throw up.

How were you supposed to face them? How could you go on living with this knowledge, with this horrific future looming over you, knowing that in a few short months, everything you knew would come crashing down again?

Then, another thought enters your mind sending you spiraling. Your friends;  Haymitch, Hallie, Connor, Weston, they were all dead. The realization hit you like a truck, ripping through your chest as more tears spilled down your face. You had fought side by side with them, bled with them, and now they were just gone. No warning. No chance to save them. You had been ripped away from that reality, thrown back here, and the loss of them left a gaping hole in your heart. Sure, technically they’re still here, they weren’t dead yet, but it wouldn't be the same. It wouldn't be the same, knowing they were all dead.

Pain and panic bubbled up inside you, making it hard to breathe. Your chest heaved as you tried to calm yourself down, desperate to get a grip. You couldn’t afford to lose it, not now. You forced yourself to take deep breaths, each inhale shaky and uneven.

In and out, in and out.

You had to calm down, you had to breathe.

You were doing your best to regulate your sobs when a knock came at your bedroom door. You froze, panic flooding through you again.

“(Y/n)? Is everything okay up there? I called you down for breakfast ages ago!”

It was your mom, Debbie. Her voice, one you hadn’t heard in so long, since Omni-Man and Invincible had declared themselves the rulers of the planet. They had whisked her away, somewhere safe, away from the destruction and rebellion that ravaged the rest of the world. You never knew where, but she was kept out of harm’s way, untouched by the horrors you lived through.

And now she was here, standing just outside your door, in a time before it all fell apart.

Tears welled in your eyes again as the sound of her voice hit you like a tidal wave of emotion. You hadn’t even realized how much you missed her. How much you missed the normalcy of this time.

But the sound of her voice also sent another surge of dread through you. Shit. You couldn’t go down there. You couldn’t face her, them, not now. How could you sit at the table and pretend everything was fine? Pretend you didn’t know that in just a few months, your father and brother would tear the world apart? How could you look at their faces knowing what they would become?

You had faced so much, Demogorgons, the Viltrumites, the rebellion—but this? Going downstairs, sitting at the breakfast table with your family, knowing everything you knew? It felt impossibly cruel.

You stayed silent, biting your lip to keep the sobs from spilling out, praying your mom wouldn’t come in. 

‘Please, don’t come in.’

‘Please.’

‘I can’t do this right now.’

But your mom knocked again, the concern in her voice growing stronger. “(Y/n)? Are you okay? I’m coming in.”

Your heart raced. No, no, no. You weren’t ready. You weren’t ready to face them, to pretend like things were fine.

You scrambled to your feet, wiping the tears from your face as quickly as you could. Your voice came out rough and desperate as you called out, "No!" You winced, hearing your mother startle from the other side of the door. Crap.

"God–sorry, mom. I'm just super tired this morning. I'll be right down," you added, trying to sound more gentle, more normal. There was a long pause, the silence stretching between you. You knew she was mulling over your odd behavior.

It wasn’t like you didn’t have nightmares before, waking up crying in a cold sweat wasn’t anything new. Even before the world went to hell, you had fought off Demogorgons, and those battles were nothing short of traumatizing. Your mom had seen you like this before, but this was different. You weren’t just waking up from a bad dream. You were waking up from death.

After what felt like an eternity, your mother finally called out, her voice laced with concern. "Okay…" she said, her tone hesitant, but she turned and made her way back down the stairs.

You exhaled sharply in relief, the tension momentarily releasing from your body. But that relief was short-lived. You stood there for a moment, staring at your reflection, trying to get a grip on yourself. You had to prepare. Your family was waiting downstairs, and you knew that your father and Mark would be there too. Just the thought of seeing their faces again made your stomach twist into knots.

You quickly washed your face, brushed your teeth, and changed into fresh clothes, anything to make yourself feel more normal. All the while, you tried to mentally prepare for what was to come. You can’t let them know. Under no circumstances could they figure out that you knew what they were going to do. That would only lead to an earlier grave, and you weren’t planning on dying again.

You needed a plan.

Your mind raced, thinking of everything you needed to do, warn the Guardians of the Globe about the incoming danger, keep fighting the Demogorgons, and somehow protect your loved ones without tipping off Omni-Man or Invincible. You had to play your cards carefully. But first, you had to survive breakfast.

With a waning resolve, you steeled yourself, locking away your fear and emotions the best you could. You took a deep breath and opened your door, stepping out into the hallway. Each step felt heavy, like you were walking toward your own execution.

The familiar smell of fresh pancakes hit you as you descended the stairs, and you almost choked on the emotions that welled up inside you. Pancakes. Your mom always made them on weekends. You hadn’t had them in what felt like years. The simplicity of it, the normalcy, hit you like a punch to the gut. You felt the unwelcome sting of tears in your eyes again, but you blinked them away furiously.

Gods, how you missed this. It was something so mundane, so ordinary, but it felt like a memory from a different life. You couldn’t even remember the last time you’d sat at the table with your family, eating pancakes like the world wasn’t about to end.

You can do this, you told yourself as you headed toward the kitchen. You walked into the dining area, every muscle in your body stiff, as if you were bracing for impact. You knew there was no point in trying to hide your anxiety—Omni-Man and Invincible could probably hear your heart hammering in your chest, the scared pitter-patter that betrayed you the moment you stepped out of your room. Even from the other side of the wall, they likely sensed your presence long before you made yourself known.

Calm down, you reminded yourself. You had to be careful. The last thing you needed was to give them any reason to suspect that something was off.

Your mother stood by the stove, flipping pancakes, and the familiar scent of butter and batter filled the air. When she noticed you, she looked up and smiled warmly, as if nothing in the world was wrong. As if everything was just like it had always been. “Morning, sweetie,” she greeted, her tone soft and motherly, oblivious to the storm raging inside you.

You tried your best to smile back, but judging by the way her own expression faltered, it was more of a grimace than a real smile. Her brow furrowed slightly, her eyes searching your face for a moment. “Are you okay? You look… tired.”

You froze for a heartbeat, trying to find the right words. “Yeah, just didn’t sleep well,” you managed to say, forcing your voice to sound casual, though it came out more strained than you’d intended.

She nodded sympathetically, her face softening. “I figured. We’ll talk about your work habits later, okay? But for now, let’s get some food in you.”

You nodded back, feeling a knot of guilt twist in your stomach. She had no idea what was coming. None of them did. You swallowed hard and turned to face the table.

There they were.

Your father—Omni-Man—sat at the head of the table, reading the newspaper like this was just another normal fucking Sunday morning. His face, strong and unreadable, gave nothing away. His eyes flickered up to meet yours, and for a split second, you swore you saw something shift in his expression. But then it was gone, replaced by the stoic calm you’d grown used to.

Mark gave you a small nod.

“You finally made it,” he said, but the usual playfulness wasn’t there. It was more of an observation than a joke. There was no grin, no teasing remark. You missed your brother.

You took a seat, your hands shaking as you reached for a plate. The weight of both their eyes on you was suffocating. Usually, you’d be vying for their attention, seeking out their praise, doing anything to connect with them. But not today. Today, you could barely keep it together, and the tension in the air was palpable.

Omni-Man lowered the newspaper slightly, his gaze sharp and focused as he looked at you again. “Late night?” he asked, his deep voice carrying a weight that made your skin crawl.

You swallowed, trying not to let your voice shake. “Yeah,” you replied, forcing the words out. “Stayed up too late studying.”

He hummed, his eyes narrowing just enough to make your breath hitch. “Don’t make a habit of it,” he said, his tone neutral but carrying a warning. “You need your rest.”

You nodded quickly, your heart thudding in your chest. “I won’t,” you mumbled, reaching for a pancake, trying to avoid his gaze. You could feel him analyzing you, taking in every nervous movement, every strained breath. He could sense that something was off, and so could Mark.

Mark wasn’t as oblivious as he had once been. He was more serious now, colder. He watched you from across the table, the way your hands trembled as you cut into your food, your elevated heart rate, your nervous energy. Usually, you’d be trying to get their attention, proving yourself, seeking validation. But now? You were barely able to hold a conversation.

Mark exchanged a brief look with Omni-Man, both of them silently acknowledging your strange behavior. But in their minds, you were just a weak human—this weirdness would pass. They had bigger things to worry about than your nerves. Still, Mark’s eyes lingered on you longer than usual, suspicion creeping into his gaze. He wasn’t going to say anything now, but he’d decided to keep a closer eye on you. Something wasn’t right.

But they had no idea how much you knew. And you had no intention of letting them figure it out. You forced yourself to eat, every bite tasting like ash as you tried to block out their presence and focus on what came next.

Things took an odd turn halfway through breakfast when a loud chorus of knocks echoed through the house, followed by muffled voices outside. The sudden noise cut through the awkward silence at the table, and you could feel the tension immediately shift.

Omni-Man grunted in annoyance, folding the newspaper with a sharp flick of his wrist, and Mark let out an irritated sigh, his fork clattering on his plate. Your mom just sighed tiredly, clearly not interested in whatever disturbance had interrupted her peaceful morning.

“I’ll take care of it,” you blurted, the words tumbling out faster than you intended. Anything to get out of that room, away from the suffocating presence of your father and brother. Without waiting for a response, you shot up from your seat and made your way to the front door, your heart racing for a different reason now.

When you opened the door, you froze.

Standing there, right on your doorstep, were Hallie, Connor, and Weston.

Your friends. Your dead friends.

They stood before you, each wearing a different expression—Hallie’s face lit up with a gleeful smile, Weston’s eyes glistened with unshed tears, and Connor, usually so stoic, looked like he was on the verge of breaking down. They looked so real, so alive, and that’s when it hit you: they were here. They had come back too.

Before you even knew what was happening, tears began streaming down your face, your vision blurring as the flood of emotion overwhelmed you. You barely had time to register it before they all enveloped you in their arms, pulling you into the tightest group hug you’d ever experienced. The weight of their presence, their warmth, the feeling of being held by them again—it was too much. You sobbed, your chest heaving as you held onto them for dear life.

“Y-you’re here,” you choked out, your words barely comprehensible through your tears. “Oh my god, you’re here. I’ve missed you so much. I’m so sorry, I—” You couldn’t even finish the sentence. Everything you wanted to say was trapped between sobs as you clung to them, the reality of the situation slowly sinking in.

You weren’t alone. You weren’t the only one who had come back.

Hallie laughed through her tears, squeezing you tighter. “We thought we’d lost you,” she murmured, her voice breaking with emotion. “We thought… we didn’t know if you made it.”

Weston chuckled softly, though his voice was thick with tears. “Turns out we all got another shot, huh?” he said, resting his head against yours in the embrace.

Connor didn’t say much, but his grip on you was tight, as if he wasn’t willing to let go anytime soon. It was a reunion you never thought possible, a second chance none of you had anticipated.

For a few moments, it was just the four of you—crying, holding onto each other, grateful beyond words. You hadn’t felt this kind of relief in years, the weight of loss finally lifted from your shoulders. You were all here, together again, and for a brief second, it felt like everything was going to be okay.

In the middle of the emotional reunion, a thought hit you hard. You pulled back slightly, your breath still shaky as you wiped the tears from your face. “Have you… have you seen Haymitch?” you asked, your voice quiet but urgent. “Did he… did he come back too?”

Hallie, Weston, and Connor exchanged looks, their expressions sobering. For a moment, the joy of the reunion was dimmed by uncertainty.

“We–We don’t know,” Hallie finally said, biting her lip. “We haven’t seen him. We’ve been trying to find him, but… there’s been no sign.”

Connor nodded, his voice low. “We’re hoping he made it, but so far, it’s just been us.”

You felt your heart sink. Haymitch had been your mentor, your rock through the chaos of the resistance. The idea that he might not have made it back, that he could still be gone, was almost too much to bear.

“I hope he’s out there,” Weston added, his hand resting on your shoulder in comfort. “If anyone could survive… it’d be him.”

You nodded, swallowing hard. “Yeah.  I just hope we can find him.”

For a second, it was just the four of you again, clinging to the idea that maybe you could find Haymitch, that maybe this second chance would let you set things right.

You hadn’t realized it, but your family—your father, Mark, and your mom—had followed you to the entrance, likely wondering what was taking so long. The hug ended abruptly as you turned, wiping your eyes hastily, and your friends straightened up, suddenly aware of the looming presence behind you.

Omni-Man stood in the doorway, his expression unreadable, but you could feel his suspicion. His eyes scanned the scene, analyzing everything with that sharp, detached gaze you knew all too well. Beside him stood Mark, arms crossed, his brow furrowed as he watched the reunion, clearly picking up on your uncharacteristic behavior. You were a mess—holding onto your friends like your life depended on it, tears streaking your face. That wasn’t the version of you they were used to.

But it wasn’t just your behavior that had thrown them off. Omni-Man’s expression hardened, and Mark’s eyes narrowed slightly as they exchanged a brief glance. They had overheard parts of your conversation, not that you were aware. 

Back? What did you mean by “came back”? And more importantly, who was Haymitch?

Omni-Man’s voice cut through the thick tension, calm but laced with an edge that made your skin prickle. “Who are these people?” he asked, his gaze shifting from you to your friends.

Your mind raced, scrambling for an explanation. You had to play this carefully—one wrong word and the suspicion you already felt simmering beneath the surface could explode into something much worse. “They’re–they’re my friends from school,” you said, your voice still shaky from the emotional reunion.

Omni-Man’s eyes narrowed slightly, his gaze sharpening. “Friends from school,” he repeated, the words hanging in the air like a challenge. His attention flicked to your friends, and you could practically feel him assessing them, weighing every detail of the situation. He just sighed, whatever was going on with you would be resolved eventually. He's heard about the hormones and “teenager” talk from Debbie, so he wasn't too concerned. He knew you were hiding something, most likely something non trivial, but if he needed to find out he would. 

Mark, however, wasn’t as quick to dismiss you. He kept his eyes on you, watching closely, the wheels turning in his head. He didn’t say anything, but you could tell he wasn’t convinced. Something about your behavior had struck him as off, and he wasn’t going to let it go. He’d be keeping a closer watch on you from now on.

Unbeknownst to you, you’ve already doomed yourself and its hasn't even been 24 hours.

Taglist: @plsfckmedxddy, @marsmabe

[daylesspax]

Hi dayless. I remember you posting about your OC Nightshade. Do you have any idea of how she would interact with both Autobot and Decepticon, or how she feels about them?

Yes! Nightshot pre-war was part of a Seeker group directly under Starscream’s command and still respects him now.

In general, Nightshot is much more willing to interact with Decepticons due to their ability to hire her with their resources, although, she is adamant about not joining a side.

Nightshot, despite her stoic personality and sense of honor, quite likes Knock Out whenever they talk. She is a good listener and enjoys talking about ways to still take care of herself in war. Her partner also likes sparring with Breakdown. Nightshot herself doesn’t talk much to Breakdown, but they also talk.

Nightshot’s interaction with the rest of the Decepticons is limited, but she respects most of them, including Megatron, but avoids interaction.

Starscream, in his rouge phase tries more than once to leech off Nightshot and her partner. Nightshot is as much of an energon hoarder as he is and is steadfast in her response. “No.”

Nightshot dislikes Airachnid. She’s ‘Neutral’, but self-serving and more than willing to hurt anyone regardless of sides. Nightshot views her as a particularly loose cannon.

Nightshot gets along with Dreadwing. They are quite similar. They don’t fight each other unless necessary, otherwise, their interactions comprise of complete silence and an air of respect and understanding.

The Vehicons adore her. Nightshot treats Vehicons with equal respect and doesn’t give them unnecessarily brutal deaths if she needs to fight them. More than often, she leaves Vehicons alive if they decide to run or surrender.

Nightshot’s dynamic with the Autobots is a bit more cat-and-mouse.

Due to the few times she works with the Decepticons, she isn’t friendly with Arcee. Arcee thinks it’s distasteful to keep switching to the side with the most money, Nightshot says she isn’t picking sides, just surviving.

Most of her interactions with Autobots are hostile or neutral, however, she makes an effort to not hurt Bumblebee and Smokescreen due to their youth, no matter what. She respects them as capable warriors, but Nightshot also doesn’t want to compromise the few left of Cybertron’s last generation (if she figures out Megatron’s direct involvement with Bumblebee’s voice box she would definitely be more hostile to Megatron).

Nightshot doesn’t interact much with Ratchet, Bulkhead, or Ultra Magnus.

She has a respect for doctors and medics in war and won’t attack Ratchet unless in self-defense. Nightshot finds Ratchet’s distrustful nature harrowing, but understandable.

Bulkhead is more likely to go head-to-head with her partner, since he’s much more tanky than she is. Nightshot doesn’t enjoy his more bloodthirsty attitude.

Nightshot likes Ultra Magnus’s straightforward, by-the-books attitude, and sense of duty that makes him easy to interact with. She knows what to expect out of him. Ultra Magnus attacks Nightshot on principle and Nightshot doesn’t begrudge him for it.

Wheeljack doesn’t waste his time (or bombs) going out for the two mercenaries. They’ve encountered each other once or twice while travelling the universe before ending up on the same hunk of rock. Nightshot and Wheeljack only fight if she’s been hired by the Decepticons, otherwise, they don’t try to fight. Wheeljack sometimes spars with her and her partner for fun, but he does get more distrustful when Nightshot keeps taking Decepticon jobs…

Optimus repeatedly tries to convince Nightshot and her partner to join the Autobots, but mainly Nightshot due to her similar attitude to Dreadwing. Nightshot continuously resists his advances, but they avoid fighting. Optimus respects Nightshot’s wants to remain Neutral. Both of them immediately get into philosophical conversations/debates whenever there’s a chance. They share a love for history.

I’m so sorry this ended up super long, but thank you so much for asking 😅 I almost forgot I posted her on here! Nightshot’s dynamic with Autobots and Decepticons do change in the future as she lets her energon hoarding tendencies get the better of her morals…

[roxtron]

The candy cadet story won’t leave my head so I wanna take some time to analyze it and go through the ways each character we know could fit it. While I don’t have a solid opinion on which character it fits into best, I definitely have some takes on who it could be. But first that comes with a transcript, so you can read past that if you don’t care for a re-read of the story I’m talking about.

“Now let me tell you a story about a young woman who, when she was little, was led into a dark forest by a witch and almost eaten.

She had fallen for the friendly voice without discernment, and was led astray. She had escaped before being thrown into the oven, but would have a scar for the rest of her life.

When she had grown, she sought revenge on the witch, and entered the forest again willingly, this time with the confidence of age and experience.

She was greeted at the mouth of the forest by a young boy who offered to help guide her through the darkness. She welcomed the help, and followed the young boy over the river, through the jagged trees, and toward a small house.

“Come.” The boy said. “Rest here before killing the witch.” The young woman was tired, and would kill the witch in the morning.

She followed the boy into the house. The oven door closed. The witch would finally have her meal.”

The biggest question I have about this story overall is when it was written, and when it was intended to be shown. I think some of it could connect with cut content, or could have potentially been intended to be viewed before other media was out. I’m not sure. 

But first I wanna go through the two characters people connect this story to the most, Vanessa and Cassie.

Vanessa I could definitely see fitting the story through the setup of course, being freed from Glitchtrap and going back to the pizzaplex to tie up whatever loose ends makes sense for her character. Even more so if we consider the mimic being sealed away, with the possibility Glitchtrap was the mimic. I’m not gonna go into that argument, don’t worry, just bringing that up as a point. The biggest hole in this theory to me is that ending, the witch having her meal seems to imply whoever this story is talking about is dead. And sure, there’s a chance Vanessa could’ve died, but I just don’t think it would work very well with the story so far. If Vanessa were to die in the pizzaplex, post-security breach, maybe even pre-ruin, it’d probably annoy a lot of people if she were potentially killed off-screen. Considering how little character development she has, it would definitely be nice if we could see more of her in the next games. While this could technically fit, I doubt it pretty strongly. With all the hints towards princess quest being canon, and Vanessa being with Gregory in the Brazil ending, I feel like Vanessa would still be alive. After all, when Freddy’s in-game excuse for not being called in certain areas is that you don’t have a map to that location, wouldn’t it make more sense for Vanessa to be the one giving Gregory instructions? With him mentioning that in Ruin, I mean. Overall it has potential, but I have doubts. 

Cassie, the biggest hole in that theory for me is the setup. It would fit her well, being lured by the mimic and all, but having her “go back for revenge” implies it would’ve happened once before. So what would that mean? Setup for the next game? The first time she’s led astray is Ruin, and the second time is in the next game? It could work with that setup. After all, the latest Candy Cadet stories seem to be more foreshadowing than anything else. Which leads to a bit darker theories. Considering the post-credits scene with Roxy calling out Cassie’s name, most people seem to agree Cassie probably survived the elevator crash. As depressing as it would be for Cassie to go through all this, only to be manipulated again and end up dead, or under the mimic’s control in some way.. It would be interesting, but I’m not sure if they would go that route. I just can’t think that this story would be referring to current events, it has to be referring to future events, that’s the only way I see it fitting. 

The worst result I can think of is fitting Gregory. In one of my other posts I go through all the evidence I can come up with that Gregory didn’t drop the elevator, and personally I think if that’s true he’d probably go back to save her in the next game. If that theory is correct, considering I like the character it definitely worries me personally if it fits in the way I think it might. With the setup of the story, clarifying the character ‘barely escaped, but would have a scar for the rest of their life,’ it fits with the mimic being sealed. Considering all the hints with the vent collapse, items left behind, the backpack placement, a lot of people believe Gregory was the one who trapped the mimic down there, and was used as bait to do so, barely escaping through the collapsed vent. Needless to say that probably would leave him with scars, physical or emotional. So if he went back after Ruin, to ‘get revenge,’ potentially attempting to re-capture the mimic while trying to save Cassie, there’s always a chance the mimic could try to manipulate him the same way it manipulated Cassie, by copying her voice. Which could lead to the same result I theorized for Cassie. Being killed by or under control of the mimic. Obviously I don’t want that, but specific lines stand out to me in a way that kinda scares me, so I think it’s worth considering.

What I personally find the most fitting is that the story fits the same way Candy Cadet’s story fits in Ruin, it fits the player character of HW2. Considering most people’s theories, Cassie’s dad. With the lines in Ruin of him not telling her what happened to Bonnie, and some other clues, it’s likely he was looking into the pizzaplex the same way other characters were. While it’s left unclear what events would’ve led him to HW2 in the first place, I think it might be a safe assumption to say that if we do play as him, his investigations went too far, leaving him in a dangerous situation he barely escaped. But with some of the off-mask minigames implying in between Ruin and Security Breach, the note in Ruin implying he left and may not have come back, he could’ve come back to the pizzaplex to investigate further. Or even brought back trying to repair the animatronics after the events of SB, considering the Roxy minigame, some tools and supplies hinting technicians were at the pizzaplex in between SB and Ruin. Whatever brought him back, both endings seem to imply he went too far down the rabbit hole.

The detail that leads me to believe this the most is being led there. While yes that usually connects to the mimic, and again we’re unsure if the mimic and glitchtrap are connected in the first place, regardless of which character/entity is causing it, there is something leading him down there. While in the final game there’s small glimpses of the Helpy on the screen trying to lead you to the Maskbot ending, getting all the toy collectibles, that’s a pretty small example of being led, since it’s so subtle and easy to miss. So what if this story was written before content was cut? With the files referring to a “voice” guiding you through the game, leading you to the Princess Quest 4 ending, what if that’s what they meant? After all we’re still unclear on who this voice was going to be, but considering how many lines they had with specific instructions, I’d definitely say it fits being led astray.

Overall there’s not a lot of backstory for Cassie’s dad, making a lot of this incredibly vague. But with such little information, and with HW2 being as vague as it is, I think it’s definitely a possibility this could have been the intended reading of the Candy Cadet story.

Regardless it’s definitely fun to think about, but I find it really interesting none of these characters seem to fit perfectly. They all have some issues with how they fit into the story, and most seem to imply the story is talking about events that lead into the next game, not information we currently have. 

[bookloveravenue]

Empyrean (book 1): Fourth Wing by Rebecca Yarros

Enter the brutal and elite world of a war college for dragon riders from USA Today bestselling author Rebecca Yarros

Twenty-year-old Violet Sorrengail was supposed to enter the Scribe Quadrant, living a quiet life among books and history. Now, the commanding general—also known as her tough-as-talons mother—has ordered Violet to join the hundreds of candidates striving to become the elite of Navarre: dragon riders.

But when you’re smaller than everyone else and your body is brittle, death is only a heartbeat away...because dragons don’t bond to “fragile” humans. They incinerate them.

With fewer dragons willing to bond than cadets, most would kill Violet to better their own chances of success. The rest would kill her just for being her mother’s daughter—like Xaden Riorson, the most powerful and ruthless wingleader in the Riders Quadrant.

She’ll need every edge her wits can give her just to see the next sunrise.

Yet, with every day that passes, the war outside grows more deadly, the kingdom's protective wards are failing, and the death toll continues to rise. Even worse, Violet begins to suspect leadership is hiding a terrible secret.

Friends, enemies, lovers. Everyone at Basgiath War College has an agenda—because once you enter, there are only two ways out: graduate or die.

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/61431922-fourth-wing

********

June 5, 2023

My Review: 5/5 Stars

Oh. My God. I've been seeing this book EVERYWHERE. Didn't get what the hype was about. My first thoughts were oh well that is a pretty cool cover and oh, do I spy a dragon?? Read the back cover copy and thought huh that is right up my alley. Fantasy, dragons, magic, romance. And after again seeing everywhere (and also seeing it sold out everywhere), I decided to read it. And again. Oh. My. God. I get the hype. I really, really do. And trust me you don't want to miss this!! An action packed adventure filled with magic and dragons and high stakes and dragons and a very hot enemies-to-lovers romance and again dragons!!! This had everything I could have wanted in a story and has to be the best fantasy I've read in a while. Definitely this year. So what is this story about? Not gonna spoil because trust me, you don't want this story spoiled. Especially with an ending like that, that has been demanding for book two right now.

Our heroine, Violet, has been studying to join the scribes basically all her life. But her mother, the commanding general, has other ideas. Not child of hers will be a Scribe. Her husband was one before died, but she won't have her daughter. She rather risk another child than see Violet not follow in her steps. Violet hasn't had it easy. Her body is frailer than most people. She has dealt with it for a very long time and knows how to handle pain. And her mind more than makes up for her lack physical strength. So with no choice, she goes to the Riders Quadrant. Where students are trained to be warriors and will have to endure a series of tests and challenges that will lead them to claiming a dragon. Dragons in their world work side by side with humans and bond to only the strongest. They work together to protect their home against all threats. Violet will have to work extra hard and survive using her mind to stay alive. But she'll face challenges every where she turns. Every one has it out for the general's daughter but no one like Xaden, the son of the Great Betrayer and the strongest warrior this college has. When a rebellion broke out years ago, it was Xaden's father who led the charge and died for it. And Violet's mother who saw his death met out. Especially when he was the reason for her son's death. Violet and Xaden have every reason to hate one another... but that still doesn't stop the chemistry and attraction between them.

There is so much going on in this story and saying too much will spoil. But there are so many neat threads going on. I love Violet and Xaden. They are awesome characters and their chemistry is through the roof. It's a slow burn enemies-to-lovers that is so worth the wait. We have some other great characters as well that include the dragons. Wait until you how the dragons and the bonds between their riders work. It is one of the coolest and most unique things I've seen in fantasy in a while. I love the whole set-up. We have some great plot twists and story threads going on. We get the whole package. I really cannot wait for book two after an ending like that. This has the promise to be a great series.

[moemammon]

Since you're open for requests, how about a MC who cannot die no matter how much you try? The anime my sister was watching yesterday (I think it's Rezero or Re:zero, I'm not sure which one) had a character like this, apparently she comes back out of nowhere each time you kill her, no matter how. It's kinda creepy, but I think a MC like this would be very interesting!

MC Just Can't Be Killed! (Feat. The Demon Bros)

(Took some liberties on this one and tweaked it so MC just conveniently manages to escape with their life-)

Lucifer

He knew something was up the moment you first avoided being killed by Levi-

He thought it was dumb luck and pure chance that you could always talk your way out of things, or how you were always rescued by someone. But then he started getting suspicious.

How can you, a human, possibly survive so long? Not that he’d allow you do die while under his care, but even HE was impressed when you managed to bounce back from being clapped into the shadow realm by Belphie.

And then you just... kept narrowly escaping death. You crawled out of the jaws of Cerberus, completely unscathed. You tripped on a path (with Mammon) and went tumbling down a hill... and off a cliff. Yet when he went to get you, you were fine. You ate Solomon's cooking and lived to tell the tale.

What are you.... he demands answers...

Mammon

Probably?? Doesn't notice for a REALLY long time how many brushes with death you've had. Literally thinks your survival is all thanks to his great supervision skills.

When in reality, he's sometimes the cause of a few of your mishaps. Like the other day, when he playfully tripped you on your way out, and thought he fucking murdered you.

And the time he let you help him advertise a shady 'youth potion', and a couple of demons thought you were part of a promotional sampling platter.

How you were still in one piece after all of this was beyond him but hey, he's not asking questions! As long as you're alive, Mammon is a-ok!

Though, he seriously wants to know how you survived that thing with Cerberus. Can you give a guy some tips on how to avoid teeth-induced puncture wounds?

Levi

What kind of infinity lives glitch are you exploiting and how did you implement it in real life-

Levi knows a hacker when he sees one and he's NOT letting you off the hook. The moment he realizes that you haven't died despite being manhandled in every sense of the word, he's watching you.

But also hella thankful?? He wouldn't know what to do if you ACTUALLY died.

It's probably because you're so amazing that you keep managing to do impossible stuff, huh? As expected of his best friend!

Still lowkey worried though, and tries convincing you that you're less likely to die if you just stay in his room with him all the time.

Satan

Inch resting....

Satan would definitely notice right away that you seem practically unkillable, considering how you walked away from every single brother completely unscathed.

You were a human, attending a school for demons, sometimes completely unsupervised, and you were STILL alive?? Yeah, some thorns me not adding up.

He would purposely lead you into dangerous situations, just to watch in awe as you get out of it without so much as a paper cut. Until he starts catching feelings, of course.

As interesting as it is to test out your lucky abilities, the anxiety that swells in Satan's chest when he sees you doing something dangerous is enough to make him want to protect you. Isn't it safer to just sit down and enjoy a good book?

Asmo

Asmo literally tried putting you in Lucifer's way in the beginning so you'd get hurt, so he definitely notices how not hurt you are after a while.

But now that he loves you, all's well that ends well! He's sooo glad Lucifer didn't tear you apart like he thought he was going to! Mwah mwah, no hard feelings ❤️

Seriously though, how the hell are you managing that?? You keep being tricked into eating things they're poisonous to humans, and the most that happens to you is bad indigestion. And that time Asmo forgot the hot springs were too hot for you? Yeah, somehow you didn't die that time, either.

What were you made out of??? Were you secretly magical like Solomon and didn't tell anyone?? Or maybe you were super lucky???

Does that mean you're especially sturdy? If so, then maybe he could introduce you to a few "activities" that are bound to keep you out of trouble~

Beel

What have you been eating that's making you so sturdy?? Actually, what HAVEN'T you eaten at this point..? The fact that you didn't die after eating Solomon's cooking is enough to tell Beel that you might not need his protection.

Though, that doesn't stop him from following you around. Even if you miraculously bounce back every time, he's getting kind of worried for like.. your overall health?

At this point he's tempted to just zip you up in his jacket to keep you safe. You're like a danger magnet and it's giving him anxiety.

He doesn't mind your adventurous side, but can't you slow down a little? At least make sure he's with you when you decide to do something risky.

If he feeds you enough, you'll get tired and just want to rest. That'll keep you out of trouble. So get ready, because Beel's bringing over a ton of desserts from Madame Scream's.

Belphie

Yeah uhhhhh he was fucking SHOOK when you came back from the dead after he clearly sent you to heaven with his bare hands??

So yeah. He's convinced you're unkillable for now. But as curious as he is to test those limits, he's realized that you're off limits as far as killing goes. And he might.. like you a little too much to try anything.

Just kidding. He makes it known that he likes you, and once you're comfortable with it, he'll make jokes about how you're immortal. Maybe you're a demon in disguise? Or an angel even?

Doesn't make it known, but he quietly watches over you to make sure you don't kill yourself through one of the millions of ways to die that the Devildom offers for free. Might not be the best bodyguard since he falls asleep all the time, but he's doing his best.

You know what would really keep you out of trouble? Napping with him. So every time you even think about something risky, he's dragging you off to the attic for some quality z's.

[halcyon-girls]

Stella meeting Beatrix's sisters?

So basically I got ridiculously invested in this idea and took a while to write it all out so this is part 1 of 3 See parts 2, 3 ------------------ Stella is terrified that Beatrix won't wake up after what happened in the fight with Sebastian. It's been four days. Four agonising days. When she does wake, there are months of feelings to unpack and a journey filled with mysteries to find Beatrix's sisters to uncover ------------------ It’s been four days. Four days since Bloom left. Four days since Beatrix had almost… Stella loathes to think about it but, four days since Beatrix had almost died. With the way she had crumbled, her blood free-flowing, Stella had assumed she was gone. She had cried until her lungs burned and her tears fuelled the magic that shaped her transformation. 

She’d helped defeat Sebastian and when she turned back, Grey was cradling Beatrix’s head. He had one hand pressed to her chest which was weakly rising and falling. Stella’s wings faded and she had ran faster than ever before, quickly taking Grey’s place.

‘Beatrix,’ she had whispered, her tears falling once more. ‘Bea,’ she repeated when the girl had offered no response.

‘She’s weak. She needs immediate medical attention if she is to have any chance of surviving,’ Grey had informed her, his hand still pressed against her chest, keeping her alive. She wanted to force his hand off of her. He was as equally responsible for Beatrix’s condition as Sebastian. Her fear that she’d lose Beatrix through that anger kept it there.

Terra and Flora were quick to join them, getting Beatrix stable enough so that Grey wasn’t required. They transported her to the greenhouse, which had most of the remedies they required to treat her wounds.

Beatrix had slept for days. Stella took each meal in her room, her hand cradling Beatrix’s limp one. She had begged for her to wake, to say her name, even sarcastically or full of anger. Anything that would indicate she’d be okay.

That day came today, the fourth day. Beatrix wakes and with bleary eyes and a tired smile, and she croaks out Stella’s name.

Stella feels her tears fall as Beatrix finally squeezes her hand. ‘I’m here.’

Beatrix coughs. ‘I thought you hated me.’

Stella sniffs, ‘The only thing I could hate you for is that self-sacrificing attitude you have. Don’t you have sisters to meet?’

Beatrix rolls in the bed, turning to face Stella. ‘I realised there was no point in finding them if I lost you in the process.’

Stella wipes her eyes, knowing she looked absolutely undignified. She was wearing a blouse with sweatpants and her makeup was definitely running from all of this crying. ‘You haven’t lost me.’

Beatrix takes an unsteady breath. ‘Good, because in the however long I’ve been unconscious, you’ve seemed to have lost all sense of fashion again.’

Stella rolls her eyes with a laugh. ‘Of course that is the first thing you’d notice.’

Beatrix pushes herself up on her elbows, wincing from the effort. ‘Did you really expect anything different?’

Stella smiles and rises from her chair. She places her hands on Beatrix’s waist and helps push her up into a sitting position. ‘I suppose not.’

She watches Beatrix’s face flush as she looks down at Stella’s hands. A small sound escapes Stella as she pulls away. ‘Sorry.’

Beatrix shrugs. ‘It’s, uh, it’s okay.’

Stella swings her arms around awkwardly before sitting back down, resting her hands in her lap. ‘How are you feeling? I can get you some water. Some food? I really should probably call Terra-’

She feels Beatrix’s hand on top of her own. ‘Some water would be nice.’

Stella looks down at Beatrix’s hand and tries to ignore the feelings that stir up inside of her. It was just a touch. Yet… the past few weeks had built up and broken so many feelings around what their relationship had meant. She scarcely had the time to process them before, and was certainly lacking the time now.

Stella squeezes Beatrix’s hand before releasing it. Even if she couldn’t process what it meant, at the very least she knew she wanted to hold her hand. ‘I can do that,’ Stella rises from her chair and walks to the door. ‘I’ll be back in just a moment.’

She walks down the hall and knocks on the door to the suite. 

Terra opens the door. ‘Stella! You’re not with Beatrix?’

Stella nods her head with a smile. ‘Give us a few hours but, she’s awake.’ She feels her smile widen. ‘I’m just grabbing her some water.’

‘She woke up?’ Terra repeats.

Stella places her hand against the doorframe, looking at her suitemates as she confirms it. ‘She did.’

‘Some good news!’ Aisha cheers. She lulls her head back against the couch she was sitting on with Musa. ‘We definitely need it.’

The suite grows solemn. It was true. Good news right now seemed nothing short of a miracle. The school was in disarray, Bloom was in the realm of darkness in who knows what condition, and they’d lost two headmistresses in the period of a few terms. 

‘We can only go up from here, right?’ Flora offers, nudging Aisha’s side.

Aisha smiles, nodding her head. ‘Here’s to going up.’

Stella pushes away from the door. ‘I should go and get that water. I just wanted to share the news. I shouldn’t be leaving her alone after everything.’

Musa waves her off and winks. ‘Go get your girl.’

Stella huffs and shuts the door behind her. She tries to ignore the heat in her cheeks as she walks towards the kitchen to get Beatrix’s water. Her girl? Beatrix wasn’t hers. At least not right now. Perhaps in some ways, if Beatrix was ‘her girl’ she wouldn’t be opposed. But now was hardly the time for such thoughts. She knew deep down, that the final words they threw at each other still left a dull ache.

With a few words to the kitchen staff, she manages to procure the water and makes her way back to Beatrix’s room, gently nudging the door open.

‘I thought you weren’t coming back,’ Beatrix teases, though Stella can see the worry in her eyes.

Stella moves back to her seat and offers Beatrix the glass. ‘I fear you can't get rid of me that easily.’

Beatrix takes a sip of the water. ‘The princess that keeps returning.’ She lowers the glass. ‘A horror story of the ages.’

Stella rolls her eyes. ‘Yes, yes. How I horrify you with clean water.’

Beatrix lifts the cup again. ‘Well, now you have me worried it’s poisoned. Are you planning to become the wicked princess and break all those fairytale tropes?’ 

Stella bites her lip and pulls her chair closer to Beatrix’s bed. ‘Only for you.’

Beatrix presses her lip to the rim of the glass, a smirk on her face. ‘Now that’s an absolute honour.’

Stella laughs and they fall into a comfortable silence. Beatrix observes the room idly as she drinks, her eyes flicking over to assess Stella before returning to some other part of the room she seems to find interesting.

When the glass clinks against Beatrix’s nightstand, Stella speaks. ‘So-’ She frowns. Where does she even start? She remembers the piece of paper in her pocket she had taken from Beatrix, having spent much of Beatrix’s sleeping days researching. More than anything, she thinks of the bitter words she had thrown at Beatrix. Her hurt had fueled them.

She rubs her thumbs together and looks up at Beatrix. ‘I know that your first action will, ah, likely be searching for your sisters.’ When Beatrix opens her mouth she raises a hand. ‘But, what I want to say is you still have me. I want to help.’

She watches a myriad of expressions dance across Beatrix's face until one she couldn't decipher is all that remains. ‘You want to join me? What about your mother?’

A small smile forms on Stella’s face. ‘She’ll be too focused on the thrills of bureaucratic control to care for what I do.’ When Beatrix leans closer, Stella takes a chance and reaches for both of her hands. ‘Besides, Bloom told us all a few things about Aster Dell.’ She sighs. ‘About what my mother had done.’ She lifts up their joined hands. ‘I believe the archives of Solaria is our best start.’

Beatrix frowns, looking down at their hands. ‘You believe me about it?’

Stella lowers their hands and rubs her thumb idly against the back of Beatrix’s. ‘I-’ she grits her teeth. ‘I know firsthand what my mother is capable of with her light magic. She is quite willing to use it against-’

‘You?’ Beatrix finishes, worry in her eyes.

Stella bites her lips and nods. ‘Yes, after what happened with my best friend, well, my mother started to use her magic more often. She told me fear and strong emotions would bring out the best of my magic.’ Stella sighs. ‘Strong emotions blinded my best friend.’

Beatrix sits in silence and Stella wonders if she had said too much. Telling your new friend that you blinded your last does not go over well. 

Beatrix releases her hands and shuffles on her bed, making space. ‘Sit with me?’

Stella bites her lip, wriggling in her chair. ‘I am.’

Beatrix laughs. ‘You know what I mean.’

She did. She was just avoiding overstepping their already incredibly delicate relationship with her desire to be near Beatrix. When Beatrix pats the bed, she’s given little choice. She rises from her chair and sits on the edge of the bed.

Stella doesn’t have time to situate herself. Arms wrap around her waist and tug her further onto the bed, her head falling into Beatrix’s lap.

Beatrix smirks, running her fingers through Stella’s hair. ‘Much better.’

Stella splutters and pulls her head out of Beatrix’s lap, moving to sit beside her. ‘I, well, okay, this works.’

Beatrix leans her head against Stella’s shoulder, not giving her a second chance to pull away. ‘I’m not afraid of you.’

Stella feels a smile quirk at the corner of her lips. ‘Nor am I afraid of you.’

She feels one of Beatrix’s arms wrap around her waist. ‘Well then, princess, what are two not-afraid girls going to do?’

Stella tilts her head, leaning her cheek against to top of Beatrix’s head. ‘Well, one of these not-afraid girls is going to rest and get better.’

She listens to Beatrix’s laugh and feels it against her side. ‘I hope you enjoy your rest.’

Stella sighs, a fond smile on her face. ‘You’re insufferable. Did you know that?’

She feels Beatrix’s grip tighten. ‘I’m more surprised you didn’t.’

Stella hums and runs her hand down Beatrix’s side. ‘Well, now I know.’

Beatrix yawns, ‘Now you do.’

Stella doesn’t answer, content to hold Beatrix instead. She closes her eyes and settles against the other girl, feeling the way Beatrix’s breathing evens out and her arms slacken. She must have fallen asleep.

Soon after, a quick knock echoes on the door and Terra and Flora enter. She looks down at the girl in her arms. It would be a shame to wake her when she’s so peaceful.

Terra moves to Stella’s side and whispers. ‘Bring her to the greenhouse later, please?’ 

Terra waves over Flora to their side, who places a small pouch with a vial in it into Stella’s hand. ‘Make sure she takes this when she wakes.’ 

Stella agrees and the two girls filter out the room, not without throwing a few surreptitious glances at Stella and Beatrix, wide smiles on their faces. Stella just knows they’re going to tease her endlessly when she returns to the suite later than night but can’t bring herself to care. Not when she has Beatrix asleep in her arms like this.

After a few hours, and a nap Stella may or may not admit she had taken, Beatrix wakes and they make their way over to the greenhouse, an empty vial in hand.

Beatrix accepts another few vials that she takes with a grimace before handing them back to Terra. ‘Can I leave now?’

‘No. We have to assess the way your body responds to it..’ Terra places a hand on the bandage resting against the back of Beatrix’s head. ‘Especially this wound.’

Stella watches as Beatrix glares at the wall while Terra removes her bandage. Stella flicks her head to the door before gesturing back to Beatrix.

Terra is quick to catch on. ‘I suppose Flora and I can leave for an hour and Stella can keep watch on the wound.’

Beatrix’s glare falters. Her eyes shift between Stella and Terra. ‘You’re leaving?’

Terra moves, allowing Stella to take her place beside Beatrix. ‘Stella will know what to do. Besides, she’s helped us with more than a few of Bloom's scrapes when she tries something new with her magic.’

Stella feels her smile tighten. ‘We’ll definitely have lots of patching up to do when she comes back.’

Terra’s lips twitch and Flora places a hand on her shoulder. ‘I hope so.’

Flora leads Terra out the door, sending them a wave. ‘Don’t do anything I wouldn’t!’

Stella rolls her eyes and focuses her attention on Beatrix. Her nails graze the nape of Beatrix’s neck as she moves her hair out of the way. Beatrix gasps and Stella pauses her motions. ‘Sorry, my hands are cold.’

Beatrix tilts her head, leaning into Stella’s touch. ‘It wasn’t that.’

Stella bites her lip. Oh. She suddenly becomes very aware of the intimacy of her actions, and the way Beatrix’s eyes seemed to close when she slid her fingers down her neck, looking for a better position to assess the wound. ‘May I?’ she asks. Her voice is low, almost a whisper.

She listens to the sharp intake of breath Beatrix takes as she responds. ‘Yes.’

Stella gulps, her hands becoming less certain in their path, cautious of drawing out reactions from Beatrix that she wouldn’t be able to come back from. Reactions that would have her desperately and earnestly wanting to break down the dance between them. She yearns to turn the slow steps of their waltz into a sharper tango. Their bodies close, their lips closer. She shakes her head. She feared what it meant to hasten this.

Instead, she parts Beatrix’s hair and conjures a small ball of light magic to check on the healing progress. ‘It looks good,’ she comments, gently pushing Beatrix’s hair over her shoulders. ‘I’m certainly no expert, but perhaps by the end of the week it’ll be little more than a dull mark.’

She lowers her hands and pulls away from the other girl, sitting back at her side.

‘In a week?’ Beatrix questions, turning to face Stella.

It was practically a crime how pretty she was. Perhaps it was more of a crime that it had taken Stella so long to realise. ‘Yes, then we can visit Solaria and start looking for answers.’

Beatrix drops her hands into her lap and leans her back against the pillows on the bed. ‘I hadn’t questioned it before but truly, why Solaria? Why not just go straight to the source? We have their address.’

Stella purses her lips. ‘We have an address from Sebastian. The man who almost-’ She hates the way her tears well. ‘Who-’

Beatrix reaches over, placing her hand on Stella’s knee. ‘Okay. I understand. Solaria, then. I suppose I’ve always wanted to annoy nobility.’

Stella snorts, her tears forgotten. ‘Have I not been fun enough?’

Beatrix smirks. ‘Nowhere near as fun as the stuffy kind. Their noses are tilted up and they get all huffy about status. I’d love to frustrate them.’

Stella places her hand on top of Beatrix’s, keeping them in that careful waltz. ‘Well then, in a week you’ll be able to fulfil that.’

Stella redresses Beatrix’s wound, keeping her hands steady as Beatrix shuffles against her touch. Just as she completes the job, Terra and Flora enter the room, handing Beatrix some more vials. They give her the all-clear to leave for the day,

So begins the week leading up to their next venture. It’s a Saturday when Flora performs the last check-up, confirming that Beatrix’s wound had healed correctly and she wouldn’t need to do the daily check-ups anymore. 

Which meant they needed to find a way to actually get to Solaria. All solutions pointed to one person, her mother, Queen Luna. Not only that, but she also needs enough truth in her lies so that her mother would agree to their departure. 

Later that day, she finds herself with Beatrix in the headmistress’s office that Queen Luna has taken occupancy in and starts to speak.

‘Mother,’ she greets.

‘Stella,’ her mother responds, looking over at the person at her side. ‘And Beatrix,’

Stella taps her hand against her thigh, working up the courage to ask the question. ‘Well, you see,’ she takes a breath. ‘As Alfea is in the process of repairs and appointment of the next headmaster or mistress, I believe I could do better work at home.’ She squares her shoulders and stabilises her expression. ‘In Solaria, researching how to prepare ourselves against the blood witches.’

Queen Luna narrows her eyes, but nonetheless, smiles. ‘I had no idea you were so driven towards our foreign affairs.’ She smacks her lips. ‘Especially not with a friend.’

They had prepared for this. The next part of the debate. ‘Would you not think someone who worked so closely with Rosalind is the perfect companion for this investigation?’

Queen Luna drums her fingers against the desk. ‘Indeed. You are quite right. We need to strengthen our ties and our minds for the battle to come.’

Her smile turns cold. ‘But do not take me for a fool, Stella. I know not of the game you plan to play, but I do know that the guards will be ordered to be on high alert around the two of you.’

Queen Luna holds up a hand, cutting off any further words from the two of them. She picks up the phone on the desk and makes a call. ‘I need a driver, immediately, to drive my daughter and her,’ she pauses, ‘acquaintance, to Solaria.’

Within the next five minutes, Queen Luna receives another call confirming the driver’s arrival. ‘Go, gather your things, the driver will wait only for the next half hour.’

She wouldn’t expect anything else from her mother. Bend to her deadlines and whims or you won’t receive what she has offered you at all. Stella had practically become an expert at knowing her craft.

She controls her frustration at the way her mother spoke to her and departs from Beatrix halfway to their rooms and starts packing. With some quick explanations to her remaining suitemates who were understandably worried but supportive, she leaves to meet up with Beatrix at the car. 

She looks down at her phone as she arrives, seeing a ping from the ‘Stella updates’ chat that her suitemates had demanded she set up with daily updates.

They make it into the car with only a few minutes to spare.

Once their luggage is in the boot of the car, the driver greets them. ‘Hello, Princess Stella, and companion. I will be your driver.’

Stella forms a polite smile. ‘My companion's name is Beatrix.’

The driver holds the tip of his cap and bows. ‘Of course, princess. I will let the palace know of the arrival of you and Beatrix.’

Stella bows in response. ‘Thank you, that will be all.’

The driver adjusts the rearview mirror and with the press of a button, raises the divider separating the front of the car from the rest of it.

They sit in relative silence for the drive, with Stella admitting in a whisper she wasn’t certain about exactly how soundproof the divider was. It was best not to risk it, considering their plans.

When the sun starts to set, they arrive at the Solarian Royal Palace, the gates opening upon recognition of the royal flags attached to the vehicle. 

They’re sent straight to Stella’s room upon entry. With an hour to unpack and dinner quickly ending, they return back to her room in the later hours of the day. The sun has completely drifted, leaving only the night sky.

She sends a quick text to her suitemates informing them that yes, she was still alive, and pushes her bedroom door open.

Beatrix settles on one of the many armchairs scattered around the room. ‘You know, with this being a palace I would have thought they’d have set up a guest room.’

Stella tucks her hands behind her back, trying to hide the way she was nervously fidgeting. ‘I can get one for you if you wish, I don’t want to force you to room with me.’

Beatrix smirks. ‘I’m not against sharing a room with you, princess.’

Stella looks down at her bed. The one bed in the room. Was she really going to fill that cliché? Here she was, sharing a room with the girl that had her completely rearranging her view on what it meant to truly yearn for and want someone. 

Stella chews on her lip. ‘I fear there’s, ah, only my bed in my room.’

Beatrix slings her legs over the armrests of the chair she’s sitting on. ‘I feel like we’ve already slept together. It’s hardly an issue.’

Stella squeaks, a panicked sound escaping her. ‘Sleep together?’ She places her hand against her mouth. That’s when, amidst her flushing and panic, she realised what Beatrix had meant. She’d napped with her only a few days ago. In a bed. Together. ‘Oh, yes, that.’

Beatrix’s smirk gets impossibly wider. ‘Yes, what were you thinking about, princess?’

Stella waves her hands in front of her, knowing she was doing an absolutely dismal job at hiding her feelings. ‘Nothing, nothing, exactly and completely just that. Two friends sharing a bed.’

‘Then it’s no issue?’ Beatrix questions, wrapping one of her arms around the back of the chair.

Stella sits on the edge of her bed, facing Beatrix. ‘None at all.’

She runs her hands through her hair and claps her hands together. ‘Now. I believe we’ll need to make our archive trip one or two careful attempts.’ 

Beatrix’s smile turns contemplative. ‘Why’s that?’

Stella sighs. ‘Well, the only way I know to get into the royal part of the archives is either with my mother or,’ she rubs her eyes. ‘With the Ring of Solaria.’

Beatrix sits up in her chair. ‘The Ring of Solaria? We’re never getting in there.’

Stella pushes herself back slightly on the bed, getting more comfortable. ‘That’s where you’re wrong. Its protections are rather basic. I assume my mother believes no one would dare face her wrath upon its theft.’

Beatrix places her index finger against her lips. ‘That doesn’t make it sound any easier.’

Stella rises from the bed and walks over to her jewellery box, pulling out a ring. ‘No, we’re go tonight. I have worn it and the weight is familiar. I have the perfect ring to sit in its place.’

Beatrix looks at her in a way that has her taking a few steps back. She remembers the waltz. Keep waltzing. Stay distant. 

Beatrix pushes herself out of her chair and walks over to Stella. ‘Bold. I like this Stella.’ She plucks the ring out of Stella’s hand. ‘How are we going to do this?’

‘I use my light magic to make us both invisible and you use your air magic to gently lift out and replace the ring.’

Beatrix grins, tapping a finger on Stella’s cheek. ‘Sounds like a disaster waiting to happen. Normally I would say no, but, it looks like we haven’t another option.’

They leave Stella’s room and put their plan into action. With both of them invisible, the guards are none the wiser. Surprisingly, none surround the ring, it’s almost too easy to replace it with the fake.

As they leave, ring in hand, Stella catches a guard deliberately walking the other way. Or perhaps, they wanted them to find it. She’d have to store that thought away for another time.

With a few turns down some painfully long halls, they arrive at the Solarian Royal Archives and Stella drops their invisibility. 

‘That was too easy,’ Beatrix comments, shifting her gaze to look down the empty hall behind them.

Stella slides the ring onto her finger and presses it to the door, listening to the mechanical sounds of each lock clicking out of place and sliding out to the edges of the door. ‘I agree.’ She pushes open the door and shuts it behind them. ‘Perhaps there is more to this than what we believe.’

The locks slide back in place, securing the door behind them. Each cog spins, pulling the large rods into their original position.

Stella conjures a ball of light and pushes it towards the ceiling. The light fixtures respond and one-by-one they light up. 

Beatrix laughs. ‘It’s painfully obnoxious of your family to create lights that only turn on with their magic.’

Stella smiles, nudging Beatrix’s side. ‘Tell me about it.’

They walk further into the archives and finally arrive at rows of bookshelves. 

‘Do we start here?’ Beatrix questions, thumbing the corner of the closest book.

Stella shakes her head. ‘No, embarrassingly.’ She lifts up the book, showing Beatrix the cover before placing it back on the shelf. ‘This is just the part of the archives my mother enjoys showing off to visiting dignitaries. Those books are little more than tales designed to show the brilliance of Solaria.’

She walks over to a bookcase and presses the ring to the sixth book across on the second row. The bookcase slides to the left, offering them entry. ‘This is where the actual archive and I believe, a map of Solaria and its neighbouring kingdoms are.’

In the centre of the room sits a large circular object, slightly risen from the floor, with sand brimming at its edges. 

Stella rubs her hand against her chin. ‘I’m not sure of the exact method to get it to display. But I remember my father showing me this map when I was younger.’

Beatrix waves her hands across the map, sparks of her air magic pulling at the sand. ‘I saw one of these at Alfea. I know how they work.’

Stella raises a brow but chooses not to comment on it, instead allowing Beatrix to bring the map to life. Piece by piece the map is formed and expanded until it’s spanning the entirety of the room, floating above bookcases and into the deepest of corners.

Stella slides her fingers through the map. ‘Wow.’

Beatrix stands back, her eyes widening as she takes in its size. ‘The one at Alfea was tiny in comparison to this.’

Stella tilts up the corner of her lips. ‘My mother was always fond of making things grand.’

Beatrix pulls out the paper with her sister’s address from her pocket. ‘9A Tewksbery, Diamond Hill.’ She walks around the room. ‘How we’ll find something so otherworld sounding in this thing is a mystery.’

Stella shifts her eyes around the room, pointing to each corner and muttering to herself. It had been a long time since her father was around to show her this, but… the pattern was still familiar. To the east, the larger kingdoms of trade. To the north, the smaller but partnered kingdoms. South, Alfea, and its neighbouring towns. That just leaves west.

She walks over to the westmost corner of the room, trailing her fingers through the sand as she searches.

‘What are you looking for?’ Beatrix questions, moving to lean against the wall across from Stella.

‘In the west are the kingdoms that Solaria has very little control over if my memory serves me correctly.’

Beatrix pushes off the wall and tilts her head up, to try and see what Stella was seeing. ‘And?’

Stella continues moving her finger until she stops at a small town pressed against the edge of the otherworld. ‘Where else would you hide survivors from Aster Dell, other than in the one place my mother cannot reach?’

When Stella looks down at Beatrix, she can see the furrow of her brow and the worry in her eyes. ‘They’re basically in the otherworld.’

Stella places a hand on Beatrix’s shoulder. ‘Isn’t that good? Doesn’t that mean they’re safe?’

Beatrix looks away from the map, her voice painfully small. ‘What if,’ she huffs, crossing her arms. ‘What if they’re just human? Completely devoid of magic?’ Her voice becomes a whisper. ‘What if they’re just another dead end?’

Stella places a hand on the back of Beatrix’s head and pulls her to her chest. She feels Beatrix’s arms immediately wrap around her. She lowers her hand down to Beatrix’s back and rubs it. ‘Then we will keep looking and digging until there’s no dead end left to reach.’

She hears Beatrix sniff and feels her collarbone grow slightly wet. ‘I’ve already reached so many of them, Stella, I’m tired.’

Stella sniffs, controlling her own tears. She wasn’t wrong. They’d reached endless moments of failure, regret, and pain. Perhaps it was never-ending, a punishment for daring to defy someone as powerful as her mother. Yet, she still hoped. She’d defied her mother, Beatrix had survived, and their leads, however precarious, were stronger than they’d ever been.

‘I believe they will be magical.’

Beatrix presses her face further into Stella’s chest. ‘I thought princesses’ were supposed to use logic instead of belief.’

Stella hums, a small laugh escaping her. ‘Is it so wrong of me to assume that someone as brilliant as you would have a family of equal talent?’

Beatrix pulls away from Stella, a smirk forming. ‘I would say that’s awfully presumptuous and seems more of a tactic to get me to like you.’

Stella bites her lip and leans down. She feels her resistance towards Beatrix crumble. Each moment they spent together was a moment that their dance hastened in pace, matching the way they grew closer ‘Is it working?’

Beatrix reaches out, gripping the front of Stella’s shirt and pulls her down further. ‘Well-’

Her words are cut short by the sound of doors opening and closing. Wait… There was only one entry into here.

‘Shit!’ Stella hisses out, pulling away to wave her hand at the sand. When nothing happens, she starts to panic. ‘Oh no, no, no.’

Beatrix places her hand on Stella’s shoulder. ‘Hey, hey, what’s wrong?’

Stella takes a deep breath. ‘Who else has access to here?’

Beatrix tilts her head before realisation dawns on her. ‘Oh shit.’

[my-mt-heart]

TWD 11x09 “No Other Way” Review

And so once again, our ship is saved thanks to…CONTEXT! I’m going to get into the specifics of the *dreaded* reunion further down, but I just wanted to say up top that if you were concerned it would tread too closely to familiar territory, don’t be. Terminus it is not, my friends. Not at all. As it turns out though, there is a lot more ground to cover in this episode than that ten second shot, including a very subtle Caryl moment that I caught, so here we go. 

The reviewers weren’t wrong about the amount of action. There’s a lot of fast-paced intercutting between Reaper and walker battling and it’s almost dizzying. The gore and the suspense were definitely overhyped (like certain other things). To me, the scenes played out like a live-action comic book, cheesy dialogue and convenient time cuts included. Not my cup of tea, but that’s okay. I’m in it for the characters anyway.

As we already know, Daryl will seize any opportunity he can to try to save someone to the detriment of his own self worth if he fails, but right off the bat, he seems to be coming around to the idea that Leah is a losing battle. When he suggests using Carver as a bargaining chip (how did ninja Carver lose that fight?), Maggie even asks him if he’s “doing this for her,” and he says, sounding sincere, that he’s doing it for their family because it’s the only way they get out alive. Unlike Maggie or Leah, Daryl has reached an understanding that survival doesn’t always have to mean killing each other and offers Leah and the three or four other Reapers still breathing (the rest either got blown up or stabbed to death in very comical ways) the chance to head north and to never be seen again. Leah’s not budging, still maintaining that “whatever it takes” attitude and orders a sniper to kill Maggie and co, but the episode’s MVP, Gabriel, turns the tables on her when he kills the sniper and threatens to shoot the remaining Reapers. 

Both groups renegotiate with the intention of letting each other go their separate ways. A very injured Elijah doesn’t like this because he wants revenge on Carver, who is in fact the one who killed his sister. Maggie doesn’t like this either, unable to forget what the Reapers had taken away from her, so she shoots them all down while the entire time, Negan remains a casual observer to a hilarious degree. The only one who survives is Leah, and Daryl basically sentences her to a life of solitude, telling her she could’ve had a second chance. The sentiment is very close to what he’s said to Carol multiple times about starting over, and there’s a juxtaposition to be made between Leah's refusal to do so and Carol’s increasing determination to do so, which Daryl is bound to pick up on if he hasn’t already.   

I know many were eager for Leah to just be killed off, the sooner the better. Personally, I’m of two minds. On one hand, I think it’s laughable that Kang rarely kills off characters even when the number of characters to service continues to rise. A highly controversial character like Leah should theoretically lead to major payoff, but so far she (and the entire Reaper arc in general) have mostly just fallen flat and as it stands, I’m wary of how much she can contribute to the story moving forward aside from seeking vengeance for her family. Pause. Let’s take a beat to digest that. Who else nearly lost themselves trying to get revenge on someone who took their family away? These juxtapositions are juicy as hell to me, but are they worth the limited screen time at this point? That’s the question. 

Now the reason I’m not mad about Leah being alive is that as long as she is, there is still a chance to make up for what’s missing. It’s no secret that I want Leah to meet Carol. They both share a strong connection to Daryl, which is reason enough for them to cross paths at some point, but the similarities (and differences) highlighted between them present an opportunity for them to learn a lot about themselves, much like looking in a mirror. That is my humble opinion on the matter. That will always be my opinion. I’m fully aware of the likelihood that they’re going to shift focus to a Maggie and Leah rivalry instead, which as I’ve said before is far less interesting given their lack of personal history.

Maggie has a really powerful scene in the church where she finds Alden’s walker and breaks down crying, but other than that I find myself frustrated with the direction of her character and that’s really hard for me to say because I do love Maggie. I’ve always been and always will be Team Maggie when it comes to the conflict between her and Negan, which has unfortunately been wishy washy the whole season.  Not that I think there was ever a chance for much resolution between them, but for Negan to just end up exiling himself, landing in the same position as we saw him in the bonus episodes, I’m just struggling to see the point of it all. What have we gained from it? What have we gained from watching Maggie carry out her vendetta against the Reapers? I understand the show is trying to do right by Lauren Cohan and wrap up what is presumably her last arc in a big way. I understand that means Maggie has to be a big presence. What I don’t understand is why Kang and co want to resort to making her ruthless/reckless, especially after seeing it backfire so hard with Carol, Michonne, and Daryl to a lesser degree (because men’s actions are easier to forgive I say sarcastically). What I also don’t understand is why supersizing Maggie’s role has to mean minimizing Carol’s. 

My biggest criticism of this episode and the whole season so far is that Carol has barely had any significant screen time.  She had a few lines to Aaron during the rain storm, but nothing memorable whatsoever. I don’t need her to be the badass hero every time. I’d gladly take a good heart-to-heart if it means helping her move past certain emotional obstacles. A conversation between her and Connie about what happened in the cave is the first thing that comes to mind. To clarify, I’m happy other characters are getting their time to shine. I’m happy to see Connie and Kelly tell each other to stay safe to showcase their unbreakable bond, I’m happy Judith gets to have her own adventure without being in the shadow of one of the adults, I’m happy Aaron gets to be super dad, rescue Judith and Gracie, and tell Lydia that he would do the same for her. But if Daryl’s not taking a back seat until he rides off into the sunset, neither should Carol. I want to sit in her perspective while she’s supposedly experiencing personal growth the same way we get to with Daryl. 

After all the action winds down, Daryl confides in Gabriel that he’s been wondering if choices even matter and Gabriel, who’s own struggles are depicted through the Reaper priest acting as his mirror image, advises Daryl to just have faith. I think this represents a small turning point for Daryl, who has always carried the weight of the world on his shoulders and is now realizing that not everything is in his control. There was never anything he could do for Leah, and that’s okay because life has given him something much better. 

It’s curious that right off a shot of Daryl by the fire, we transition to Carol who is peering over Alexandria’s walls, just staring off into the distance. I can’t help but wonder if this is hinting she might be thinking about Daryl, just as he may have been thinking about her. Obviously she has good Daryl radar because moments later, there he appears with Dog, the others following behind him with a cart full of food. 

Daryl immediately seems really happy to be back in Alexandria and I think it’s worth noting that Judith, RJ, Lydia, and Carol are the first wave of people to greet him, representing the family he’s been blessed with due to circumstances outside of his control. Yes, his hug with Carol feels brief and undercuts where they started at the beginning of the season, but I think this could be because Daryl is heeding Gabriel’s advice, having faith that he and Carol are strong enough to get through anything together. Of course I would have liked to see more after waiting patiently all this time, but I don’t believe Angela Kang is neglecting Caryl necessarily. She tends to place emotional conversations where they count the most and she may have thought placing one here, since it’s too early for canon, would retread what we saw in 10x16. Do I think it’s absurd that their emotional breakthroughs with each other can’t be interspersed or built upon? Do I think Kang is overestimating the power of silent communication? Yes and yes. I absolutely do. Don’t get me wrong. The only point I’m trying to make is that just because the gratification doesn’t come here, doesn’t mean it’ll never come. 

Meanwhile, the Daryl and Connie reunion feels like a more timely emotional beat to hit because it’s probably going to launch Daryl and Carol (yes, Caryl) into their next phase of conflict i.e. Carol assuming Daryl would be better off with Connie romantically. As for the tone of it, the same score playing over the simultaneous family reunions continues here, emphasizing joy and relief on top of the joy and relief Daryl is already charged with. The “run” is more of a short hop/skip, there’s no nuzzling, there’s no lifting anyone off their feet. It reads very platonic to me, especially Connie’s bro punch to Daryl’s chest. 

The camera does pan over to Carol who is smiling, observing Daryl’s happiness from the sidelines. Not a literal POV shot, but the intent is still to give us Carol's POV, which I think is twofold. For one thing, it shows that Carol no longer has to carry the burden of potentially killing someone’s sister and friend. Better yet, it reinforces that anything between Daryl and Connie she may later claim to be romantic is a product of her own imagination. From an outsider’s perspective, it looks completely innocent. No other character beside Carol is even watching. Not even Dog, who is busy eating an apple. 

Some will undoubtedly interpret Carol’s smile as an absence of jealousy and therefore a lack of romantic feelings for Daryl, but here’s the thing. Carol’s love for Daryl – yes that love – is so strong, she is compelled to place his happiness above all else. Just like Daryl had done when she told him she was marrying Ezekiel. But unlike Daryl who felt “saudade,” Carol doesn’t feel like she’s suffering a personal loss because she’s convinced herself Daryl has never been nor ever can be hers to lose (in that way). Part of Carol’s journey is finding her worth again, and in many ways she is starting to do so on her own, but when it comes to Daryl specifically, I think he himself will have to set her straight, and I think it’s going to come as a big shock to Carol (and the audience!!) while she’s still expecting him to move forward with Connie. I have a lot more to say about that, about Carol’s headspace, and how it all ties into hers and Daryl’s story at the Commonwealth, but it’s probably best to save it for episode 10 (assuming it still makes sense after I see the episode). One last thing to mention is that while Eugene and Lance are doing their spiel, we see Dog sitting close to Carol, and in my head, it’s because he missed her most of all. 

Overall, I found this episode to be particularly anticlimactic and am curious to see how things shake out at the Commonwealth. We are indeed getting a Caryl scene per the episode trailer so there’s that. I’ll admit, I’m a little nervous to be confined to this new environment because of how starkly different it is from the ZA world I fell in love with, but we’ll see. We got a glimpse of Daryl’s and Maggie’s opposing philosophies while dealing with the Reapers and it seems they are the two close friends who are going to be facing off with each other (while Daryl proceeds to look silly in his armor). To sum up my feelings about this possible conflict…meh. I’m assuming it’s probably not what it looks like. Also, it just further positions Daryl and Maggie as the two biggest protagonists, which irks me. 

Welp. We weathered the first storm, babes. Seven more to go. (Wow I’m pretty sure watching my favorite show is not supposed to feel like this.)

[roystory4]

i’m getting back into the swing of things w/ art but ive definitely been more active on twitter in the past than here... so i guess quick recap on tua. if ur here and dont know about tua here’s your chance to have an ounce of context for the sheer wealth of OOC shit i’m always posting about

ok so whereas fallout 4 has you starting in sanctuary as nate and nora w a newborn, tua’s story (weary exile, bright heart/webh) starts w her living w her sister in an apartment in lexington. tua’s sister, miriam, is a military vet working as a pharmacist, and tua is a legal secretary for defense law office in south boston (in the general area of where the federal public defenders office is IRL). tua is also four months pregnant - it was kind of a surprise pregnancy from a past relationship, and she experiences a lot of dysphoria from it. they don’t really have a maternal instinct and have never really wanted kids.

tua had just recently started living w miriam, who she did not grow up with. shortly after miriam was born, their mother took her and moved back to california to be closer to her family (they are originally from oaxaca, and is mixteco). tua then grew up w her dad - who had been in the process of relocating the family to upstate new york to have his own farm - who also eventually just disappeared. after leaving active duty in alaska, miriam sought out tua and found them living in boston, and the two of them reconciled. shortly afterward tua found out that they were pregnant and miriam offered to raise the baby as her own with her own partner (yasmin) who was still on active duty. this was kind of a relief for tua but also not really - the whole experience was really isolating and uncomfortable. at that time you could be fired for being pregnant and tua’s job is their whole life.

at some point they win a lottery with vault-tec to be admitted to vault 111. miriam entered the lottery without telling tua because tua has a lot of distrust of vault-tec (she works in criminal law but the corporation is Very much involved in civil law) and, as they are to find out later, sanctuary was the social experiment and they were the wild cards of it. (what would be inferred upon entering vault 112 is that tranquility lane was basically the follow-up to sanctuary’s real-life, actual setting)

because they were added on, tua and miriam were listed at the end of the roster, and placed away from the group as part of the experiment. however, this just meant that when the institute was hunting around for viable DNA to use for the gen-3 project, they made their way through the rest of the neighborhood - taking some back to the institute, while selecting “samples” from the remainder before disposing of them - before making it to miriam first. as it worked out, miriam fought back, was murdered, and the institute retreated to re-evaluate the  test. around this time the brotherhood of steel made an assault on the institute, won (barely), and so the institute never came back for tua. the power failed in the vault, quick-thawing tua, and she was able to escape - sick, weak, but alive

so then tua has to try to figure out what happened to her sister (she assumes miriam fled) while also dealing w the stress of pregnancy alone. theres a couple reasons i decided to go this route instead of making tomás miriam’s kid... one, i like the idea of a post-apocalyptic marge gunderson. two, i like the idea of having a non-cis pregnant character thats not steeped in weird “feminimity/womanhood” shit. and lastly i just think its a cool concept to have a post-apocalyptic, cryogenically-stored individual who is pergerant and has to learn to survive in this brand new world, helped along by an old robot. i just think thats a neat sci-fi concept.

this is all kind of fucked later when she has to undergo when in rome/vault 112, because braun - drawing on her memories - knows that tua had a child, but cannot reconcile her experience w/ his prewar ideals. so hes sticking them into tranquility lane/sanctuary as a happy doting housewife and its so bizarre tua consistently figures out that its a simulation. tua is probably at a better point then to handle the discomfort of it all - but then there’s the added element of nick being adjacent, so when braun’s forcing them along the plot of “get to diamond city to find out who murdered your husband!!!!!” and nick’s there going to bat with anything that even looks at tua weird, tua’s kind of having to cope w the fact that. nick’s kind of living out his wish of being able to help her during a really shitty part of her life.

there’s a lot of drama w that au but yeah here we are. tua’s post-apocalyptic marge gunderson but its not all wood chippers and violent mercs and homicide. there is also a doting fella who jumpstarts her car and makes sure they eat breakfast and brings them arbys

[idiotwhotalkstoomuch]

I have another question: Have you read the demon slayer manga by any chance? If so, how far into it are you? like have you eat all of the chapters already? Cause I got the idea where even after MC is sent back to their original world, the boys are still able to check up on how MC is doing through the mirror from the opening ceremony. That way when MC eventually participates in the final fight against Muzan they get the chance to truly see MC in action which brings me to my actual question (Assuming you've read everything to avoid spoilers) how would they react to the severity of MCs injuries against Muzan or even some of the upper moons? Based on their personalities who do you think would be cheering for MC, begging them to live another day so they can have a chance to meet again since they're absolutely working on a way with Crowley to bring them back. Since this is the battle against the big boss,it means demon slayers won't be necessary and it'll be fine for MC to live the rest of their days in peace at NRC or in the world of NRC right? on the other hand, who do you think would instead be hoping that MC will stay down and receive medical treatment, let the other slayers handle the rest of the battle because they're already so badly injured they really shouldn't push themselves any further and they can't bear to see their friend hurt so badly (Considering what happens to a majority of the cast, if MC is a pillar, Ooooooh boy.)

I also found an absolutely amazing demon slayer video that's fan made but I don't want to risk spoiling anything cause it's way later on in the series, hence why I asked earlier.

So I just read some of the manga (not in order cause being orderly and me do not mix)

Decided to detail the fights more cause they can all be summed up to “worried as heck” with varying degrees

WARNING SPOILERS FOR THE MANGA OF DEMON SLAYER (I TALK ABOUT SOME OF THE UPPER MOON FIGHTS, WHO BEATS THEM AND SOME IMPORTANT STUFF ON THE TANJIRO FIGHT. ALSO A SPOILER FOR THE DEMON SLAYER MOVIE Y’ALL KNOW WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT)

The upper moon fights that MC likely participate in are the Hantengu fight and Douma or Kokushibo (I will cover both) before Muzan

Being a successor of a Hashira, if they were the flame pillar or the sound pillar’s tsugoku it’s likely they might even join the hashira if deemed skilled enough and since they joined in overblot fights, their skills definitely weren’t slacking so it’s likely they have

During the Hantengu fight they join Mitsuri in fighting Hantengu’s strongest clone so the others can go for the main body but since Mitsuri was the one to jump in and get the attack to the face and recalls her past, only she awakens the demon slayer mark

Douma has a past of pissing people off and ruining families and if they were Shinobu’s tsugoku alongside Kanao then they know full well what she plans to do and Adeuce and the others really wish they could go and comfort MC as the grief on their face at the idea of their master dying is clear

If MC is a girl and joins Shinobu in the fight, they might wind up getting eaten by Douma alongside Shinobu if they fight well enough and Kanao doesn’t make it in time, in this scenario Lilia and several other Diasomnia members have to calm Malleus down as his anger at watching his friend die while being helpless is clear as the others grieve

Luckily in this scenario, if the mirror keeps on to at least see Shinobu’s plan through then they get to see Douma’s defeat by his own gluttony with Kanao and Inosuke dealing the finishing blow

If they end up not being eaten or just don’t catch Douma’s interest (either by not being a female, them being saved by Kanao in the fight or other possible reasons), Grim really wishes he could join and melt all the ice created by Douma as his blood demon art starts to freeze them as they throw their own swords alongside Inosuke (or help in some other way) to assist Kanao in finishing the blow against Douma and ending him once and for all

Azul, Jade, Jamil, Leona, Lilia, Malleus, Riddle, Rook, Vil and the teachers have to applaud Shinobu for her suicidal yet extremely effective plan, they likely would not defeated Douma without her and hope she rests in peace (ngl her death broke my heart lol)

If they ended up fighting Kokushibo, they’re all pretty shocked to see the regenerative abilities of a demon both from Kokushibo and Genya, they had heard about it from MC but seeing the extent of how far it can go in this fight amazes them

The Kokushibo fight seems allergic to letting people under the age of 18 survive (Muichiro death was sad but Genya death animated may actually emotionally break me) so it’s very possible that they die in the fight as after all Kokushibo is the strongest demon moon that probably spits on Upper moon 6’s 22 pillars killed so it’s very unlikely that they could ever leave this fight unscathed or with their life

Jack has to help Adeuce and Grim who are breaking down as they watch their friend who they were hanging out with the other day like normal teenagers would, give their life to defeat the demon who has killed hundreds of people

The older members of the cast like the teachers, Malleus and Lilia all have moments of silence for the young lives slain by the man who was obsessed with being the strongest samurai

In the Muzan fight (if they make it there alive), since they’re stronger than many other members, the lower ranked demon slayers give their lives to protect them a gruesome sight that characters like Kalim have to cover their eyes to all the death and gore in the mirror

MC like Tanjiro and the hashira get poisoned by Muzan’s blood and all of them think it’s the end until Tamayo’s cat comes in and saves them, avid dog lovers like Crewel have to give props to the cat for saving their lives

It’s possible that at the memory of the twst cast waiting for them to win and the family they’ve lost yo Muzan, MC gets their demon slayer mark to help them in the fight against Muzan, luckily if they are aware of the demon slayer mark’s deadly condition from Kokushibo, the more experienced magicians and potions experts like Crewel, Vil, etc. believe that if MC gets through the fight they could create a way to prevent the demon slayer mark from ending their life at the young age of 25 something that brings hope to all of them

Of course optimistic thoughts like that can also be crushed at the end of the fight after Muzan disintegrates under the sun once and for all since they could’ve received fatal injuries in the fight until dawn and die with the kakushi trying to save them, while the others plead for them to be sent back to their world so they can receive immediate treatment and are reminded of the fact that they likely won’t make it and are forced to just let them die surrounded by their comrades

If they manage to survive the fight against Muzan (likely having one of their senses permanently ruined, having a lot of permanent scars on their body or even missing a limb or two) and are ready to just retire for the rest of their life and they receive a message from the twst cast are always welcome to have them back if they want to retire in their world

[princecharmingwinks]

i did the thing <3 and i'm back with a fail date that i'll leave open ended ;) was dating a chef and we went to a restaurant he wanted to try in the next town over. we order lunch, we're chatting, we're laughing, its going great. food comes out and he took one bite, he stopped smiling and whispered 'oh no...' XD

You did a thing!!! Hello!!! Welcome to the fold, fabulous to have you in the ranks. Hope you meet some nice beans :) Opened endings? Oh, we kicking up a notch haha.

--

Setting the scene - Derek is definitely the chef. No one should trust Stiles with sharp objects like knives. Derek is a werewolf and knows it's time to tell Stiles. They've been seeing each other for a few weeks and he's never felt this way about anyone. He wants to officially ask Stiles to be his boyfriend (why does he get butterflies everytime he thinks of that word?).

His family and pack (Laura and Erica in particular) have been dying to meet the human who has swept Derek off his feet. Not that he can blame them, Stiles is everything he has ever wanted and more. They just, click. But it was getting to the point that the women of the pack were threatening to stalk Stiles if they weren't formally introduced asap.

So Derek decided today was the day to ask Stiles to be official and start explanations of the supernatural kind. They'd travelled a town over to avoid the Hale pack's pesky eavesdropping. And to try out a new restaurant that's been getting rave reviews. The lunch was going well, they ordered and chatted and it was perfect.

The waiter places their food on the table and leaves. Derek swallows and is about to start explaining (how do you even start to tell someone that you have a desire to howl at the full moon?) when Stiles jumps in first.

"So are you finally going to tell me your secret?" Stiles asks, all big eyes and soft smiles.

Derek's heard of gay panic but is there such thing as wolf panic?

Derek is too caught up with the question to even register the mild but unusual scent of his meal. He takes a bite to try and calm himself...and internally curses.

"Oh no..." he whispers.

Stiles frowns and watches as Derek swallows his mouthful slowly and grimaces in the direction of the kitchen. He follows the movement as sees two stunning - like model stunning - women wave from the kitchen peak hole. One with dark straight hair and the other with blonde ringlets, both with predatory smiles.

"Do you know them?" Stiles cocks his head in confusion.

Derek looks like he ate a lemon, "This cannot be happening."

"What’s going on?" Stiles reaches out for Derek's hand which the other man takes and interlocks their fingers.

The women have left the confines of the kitchen and are walking over to their table now.

Derek gives a tight smile, "If we survive this, I'll buy you all the curly fries in the world."

"Oh Der-Bear, brother of mine!" The brunette is calling out in a sing-song tone.

It all clicks in Stiles' brain. He grins and gives Derek's hand a squeeze, "If we survive this, promise to marry me one day."

Derek doesn’t get a chance to answer that particular request when the women have reached the table. When first meeting someone, the usual custom was to introduce yourself and ask to join the meal. These women did not get that memo.

The brunette, Derek’s sister slides into the booth blocking Derek’s escape routes, the blonde does the same to Stiles, snuggling in close.

Derek sighs the way only a brother could, “Stiles, meet my older sister, Laura and my friend - although at this moment I’m not too sure why - Erica.”

Derek should have known something was up when he found the latest restaurant reviews magazine left open on the dining room table. He had assumed it was left out by his mum, the two of them often discussing the latest food trends. He hadn’t thought it was left as a trap by his manipulative pack mates. But the moment the ever-so-light sprinkle of wolf’s bane had touched his lips, Derek knew he was in trouble.

How the two biggest trouble makers in his life had managed to find out the exact details of his date and get themselves access to the kitchen was beyond him but he imagined it had something to do with their feminine prowess (or their intimidation tactics) both equally as strong. 

He was still trying to process how Stiles could know about his wolf and now he had to manage these two? 

“What are you two doing here?” Derek reluctantly asks.

Erica grins, a dangerous twist of crimson red lips, “You’ve been keeping Stiles a secret for too long, Derek. We had to take proactive measures.”

“And ambushing my date was the best way to do that?”

“We’ve gotta make sure Stiles can handle the unexpected.” Laura ‘helpfully’ supplies.

“I don’t mind thinking on my feet.” Stiles interjects. 

Derek is in awe of this man. How did he find someone so perfect?

“So are you all werewolves or just the Hales?” Stiles asks. The three wolves all stop and blink at him. 

“What, is that not the right terminology? Is lycanthrope more appropriate?”

Erica is the first to break the silence, almost doubling over from the force of her laugh. Laura is joining in too.

Derek on the other hand is just in plain shock. “You knew?”

Stiles shrugs, “I’m a curious creature. I research. And things didn’t always add up with you. Like you are way too good looking to be just human. And there’s the whole tendency to growl when things get - ah - heated.”

“We are so keeping you! Come over for dinner tonight so you can meet the whole pack.” Laura announces, not waiting for an answer. She kisses Derek on the cheek and rises up from the booth. Erica follows suit and throws Stiles a wink before the two of them walk out of the restaurant with linked arms.

Derek breaths a sigh of relief. 

“So did I pass the test?” Stiles asks, moving over to sit beside Derek in the booth. Derek lifts his arm and draws Stiles in. 

“You were perfect.” He kisses the human’s forehead. “You are perfect.”

“You going all soft on me now, Hale?” 

Derek smirks, “Do you like my last name?” 

Stiles crinkles his eyebrows in confusion, “Yeah?’

“Do you wanna keep it?" Derek is full-on smiling now, little bunny teeth and all. “That was the rule, right? We survive this and I marry you?”

Stiles blushes at the memory, “Only if you buy me all the curly fries in the world. And we are hypernating, Mr Old-School. I’m always going to be a Stilinski in one way or another.”

“Done.” Derek whispers as he leans in and kisses Stiles.

Derek wasn’t sure why he was ever nervous to make things official. Somehow he had gone from worrying about the title ‘boyfriend’ to this. They still needed to have a proper conversation and he knew the human would have excel spreadsheets of questions about the supernatural. But as Stiles’ hands cupped his jaw and pulled him in for another kiss, Derek thought those discussions could wait.

Now they just had to meet the rest of the pack - oh no...

--

Ta da! Hope you liked it my friend. This one was fun to write. Can you tell I like big happy Hale alive families? Because I certainly do. Also, my version of Laura will forever and always be played by Meghan Ory (just as a fun fact). Thanks for popping in!

[hogwartsfirebolt]

cw: wizarding war, and the violence it ensues.

The year bled.

It bled great gouts of wizards, beacons of hope shining bright red at the tip of their wands. Led them to their deaths, in the battlefront that had taken their friends and family, yet remained unsatisfied.

The year took his Hagrid, took his Ron, the year flung a sword into Harry’s survival instincts and turned them inside out — backwards, all wrong. He lived and breathed for his days on the front, inhabited the outermost trench for longer than anyone was allowed, his wand glowing green more often than red.

Voldemort’s tooth — sharp, a snake’s poisonous incisive — hung on a thread, rested against Harry’s throat, had for the better part of the season. Yet the war raged on.

There’d been a time when things had been simpler.

“Will you be resting this fortnight?” Hermione had asked him when she’d served, a few days earlier. She was at a safe-house, now, replenishing her core, drawing energy from the underground streams that pulsed with golden magic so she would be ready to return to the fight. It was was everyone did, every couple of weeks, what their warlord had ordered.

Harry’d not been to a safe-house in three months. He’d not known anything but carnage in all those days, was beginning to suspect that the inexhaustible nature of his core didn’t extend to his body, definitely didn’t extend to his mind.

“Where are they getting this strength? These numbers?” Ron had asked, the night before a Death Eater had torn his head right off his neck.

They still did not know the answer. It happened everyday, at the strike of dawn: dozens of Death Eaters arrived at the front, and it didn’t matter that Harry sliced right through their ranks like a sword, there were dozens more the next morning. And they still did not know the answer.

It was not simple. Nothing was simple.

“They must have found a way to clone their soldiers. It can be done — they have Voldemort’s knowledge on soul-splitting.” Kingsley had written, in the letter Harry had received two days earlier. “Soon enough they will press at their advantage. I trust you will know what to do. Do not fail me.”

There was no “soon enough”. The advantage was already being pressed, every waking second, on multiple fronts. Harry spent his days blocking them with his magic, with his body, and his nights fighting against their secret weapon, they one they seemed to reserve for him only — the mind games.

“They impersonate us?” Arthur had asked, when he’d brought health potions the previous week.

“They show up as you, or Molly, Gin, R-Ron. I’m not sure what they want, they seem to be trying to extract information, but not on our lines, not on our manpower. I don’t know what I have that they want.”

“Don’t trust anyone.”

The days cut him, and the nights suffocated him. He got approached by group after group of imposters, wearing a different face every night. People Harry loved and hadn't seen in months. Those ones didn't hurt as much. Not like it hurt when it was people he had loved and lost.

Arthur had told him not to trust anyone. Some nights, he didn’t even trust himself.

He was going mad, sending away whoever it was that wore Cedric’s body, that showed up in his mother’s face, that slipped into Sirius’ limbs like they would into a coat. People he trusted, people he loved, and whose memory would forever be tainted by this, in his mind.

The night Draco Malfoy showed up, Harry thought it was another mind trick. Then, he realized that it broke the pattern. He’d never trusted, never loved, never even tolerated Draco Malfoy.

But there he was. He showed up, nose bleeding, broken arm cradled against his chest, miserable, everything Harry raged against. His tears shone bright silver over his cheekbones, down his jaw, carrying magical energy, draining him.

“Please,” he said. “Please, I don’t know where else to go.”

Harry didn’t trust him, he shouldn’t help him. But he did. He mended the fractured bones, cut his own palm with a knife and gave him some of his magical energy, poured it right into his gaping mouth. Saved his life.

Malfoy stayed.

Something like guilt, if he was still capable of that, draped itself across Harry’s shoulders as he fed him their food, let him drink from their goblets, gave him their healing potions.

He didn’t trust him. He didn’t trust himself.

Malfoy talked, at least, which was useful.

“Portraits.” He coughed, shivery from the core-loss. “They all have hundreds of them, their magical energy split. Not their souls, that’s not sustainable, it’s their magical energy. And they take them out, give them life. There’s an energy source, and an ancient spell, a rune ... I wasn’t told, but I saw, she performed it in front of me. Please, I’ll tell you. I ran. I need your help.”

Harry didn’t need to ask who she was.

“I can fight. I can help. Please. Please, they killed my mother.”

And there were the tears again, but crystal clear, no longer carrying Malfoy’s power. Harry had successfully stopped the drainage.

“I shouldn’t.”

“Please. Write to your general, I’ll say anything, I hate her.”

There had been a time in which Malfoy’s desperation would have made him feel at an advantage, would have made him laugh, prod at the wound. But that time was long gone, desperation was the only thing he knew now, as well, and there was no winning. It was a winless fight. Malfoy was too human, too scared, not an instrument of war.

“No. We don’t know he’s telling the truth, I forbid you from sheltering him.” Kingsley’s letter said.

There’d been a time when things had been simpler.

But the war raged, the weeks blended into each other, and the pain, renewed as it was every single day, numbed him.

Harry was human. Harry was scared. Harry was an instrument of war.

He sheltered him anyway.

“One wrong move, and you’re out. You have one chance.”

Malfoy nodded, weeping right there in the trench, in his blood-stained clothes. Harry couldn’t afford to distrust him, was too busy staying alive.

And Malfoy did not fail him. In the morning light, dozens of Death Eaters Harry had killed a million times marched into the battlefield, and Malfoy fought next to him. Harry’d not had anyone watch his back in months, and it made for a nice change.

At night, they fended off the imposters, and Harry fed him his own magical energy, watched him grow stronger with it. His core was inexhaustible, he knew. He didn’t have to send Malfoy away to regain strength, he gave it to him, every single night.

It was forbidden, but it was also the only thing that seemed right in the vortex of destruction he’d been living in.

“She keeps an artifact at the Manor. It looks like a prophecy, is kept under lock and key inside her chambers. I saw it, she made me clean it once. I think it’s the source of all this. I think if you destroy it, this will be over.” Malfoy said, three weeks after they’d been fighting side by side. He looked stronger, energized, and if Harry closed his eyes, he could feel his own magic inside Draco’s corestream, like an extension of himself.

“How?”

He felt Draco prodding back, felt him extending his energy so it circled back to Harry, so it flowed freely between them.

“There’s no time to look. Burn down the manor.”

The discovery that they could access each other’s magic should have been monumental, yet felt like nothing at all. They’d known, they’d experienced it every night for weeks. An intimacy unlike any other, between enemies, between allies.

“I thought I forbid you from taking him in.” Kingsley’s letter said, when Harry proposed the idea. It didn’t feel like a reprimand. It felt like a father, telling a child off for keeping a stray kitten. “I have sent reinforcements to the front, come to headquarters. Both of you. We’re burning the house this week.”

The plan was to march off to Malfoy Manor the morning after they arrived at headquarters. Instead, they slept for three days straight.

They were in different rooms, but Harry only had to close his eyes to trace his energy back to Draco, and it soothed him.

They’d been enemies. They were human, they were scared. Now, they were allies. Now, they were one, more than they were two.

“I think we can read each other’s minds.” Malfoy said when they woke up, except he wasn’t anywhere in the room. The voice had come from Harry’s head.

“So it seems.”

They found each other in the kitchen, had breakfast, made vague conversation, not a single word spoken out loud.

“Is the war ending?”

“Once they stop multiplying like crazy, we can beat them, and stop fighting. Live our lives, maybe. But I don’t think the war will ever end, Draco.”

He wanted to explain that he felt like he would carry it forever, but he didn’t have to. In the space between thinking it and wanting to communicate it, he already had.

“I know.”

For the first time in months, when Harry searched inside himself, he didn’t feel empty. There was energy, magic, there was someone else with him, in the space that had existed between his anger and his grief.

“Also, I can do wandless now," Draco added.

“Yeah, that’s on me.”

“Do you think this means we are …?”

“Yeah.”

They showered.

After, they apparated to Malfoy Manor, didn’t even have to touch to do it together, the crack of the spell going off in unison, turning heads once they arrived. The entire Order was there, and, in front of them, the house aflame.

The Manor bled. It bled tendrils of black magic that dissipated into thin air, screamed, called to the tooth hanging at Harry’s neck. He wrapped his fingers around it and held it tight — his trophy, his burden.

All that was left of the enemy army were twenty wizards that scuttled out of the blazing house like fleeing rats. She wasn’t amongst them. Somehow, Harry knew she’d died trying to protect her energy source. He knew that he would have, and soldiers weren't so different.

He and Draco took care of the survivors, both their powers pulled into a single explosion of green.

“Wow.” Hermione said, standing next to Harry.

“We think it’s over.”

“You two are …”

“Yeah.”

“Permanently.”

“Yeah.”

“You know that’s forbidden.”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

The year had bled, had been an open wound. Then it had been cleaned and stitched, messily, but closed. It ached. It bore the name of the friend Harry had loved the most, his other half. It would never go away, it would scar.

But it was healing.

Harry reached out with his magic, and felt Draco meet him halfway.

-

Written for @drarrymicrofic prompt "forbidden"

[plus-size-reader]

Forgotten

Thomas x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 2326 words

Warnings: none

Summary: WCKD isn’t the only one with secrets. The Scorch has a few secrets of its own

—————————————————————————————————

It would have been stupid of the gladers to think they were the only ones left.

While it was true that WCKD had taken to picking and choosing who got to survive, that didn’t mean there was no one else left outside of their domain. It just meant that the few of you that had survived were better at it than the rest.

Sometimes you called them the forgotten, those who WCKD couldn’t use that got left behind. In the beginning, it was like your own little maze, made up of all those who didn’t mean anything to anyone because they couldn’t use you.  

You were left for dead at the mercy of the scorch, and while some people had survived, as the time ticked by, fewer and fewer of those forgotten ones survived.

Most of them ended up as cranks, at the hands of the virus that had torn through the life  you once knew.  It was all you had now, and as treacherous as it was, the scorch was your home.

It was all that was left.

Which was why you were so shocked to see such a big group of them still alive out here, not deterred by the dust storms in the desert or the cranks who would surely tear them apart if they got the chance.

All in all, they were way out of their depth.

You had been staying here, in what was now little more than a bunker while now, keeping a close eye on the compound to the east. WCKD got shipments of supplies sometimes, which you had taken to ripping off occasionally.

Stealing from them was hardly the worst thing you’d done out here.

It was what you had to do to survive.

However, the last thing you’d been expecting here was a group of strangers, somehow still alive against every threat in this place. Though, from the looks of it, they hadn’t been out in it very long, which could have been the reason for that.

You watched them for a while, trying to figure out who or what they were, before eventually, you decided that you had to do something about it.

They weren’t going to survive out here on their own.

What you were doing went against your every impulse, of course, as you had learned not to trust anyone or anything, not even the other survivors that could be found bunkered down all over the scorch.

The only person you could trust was you, and even that was iffy sometimes, but for some reason, you felt differently about them.

Maybe it was because they were so desperately fighting for survival, ro maybe it was just because you’d been alone for so long but whatever it was, you had already made up your mind.

They needed your help, or they were going to die out here.

“I wouldn't do that if I were you” you called, just in time for one among them to flip the switch to the power grid. It may have seemed like a good idea at the time, but only if they knew even less about this place than you thought they did.

Both men in yoru view tensed at your appearance, but didn’t have any time at all to address you before the crank you’d loving been calling Doris for the past six months slammed against the bars of her cage.

She was here when you showed up here and once you’d decided that there was no risk of her getting out, it was easier to keep her alive than to put her down.

In your experience, having one around that wasn’t a threat to you, helped you keep tabs on what would draw in the rest.

“Follow me” you suggested, rushing off in the opposite direction of two of the other cranks, glad to find out that at the very least, the two of them could run. If they couldn’t, you would have been forced to leave them behind.

Just because you wanted to help them didn’t mean you were all of a sudden willing to die for strangers.

You would help them, or at least try to help them, for as long as you could. The actual survival was their responsibility, what they had to do out here because they wanted to. Everyone that survived out here had to want it.

If you didn’t, you died.

That was just how it was, and nothing was going to change that.

The pair of them shared a look, just one, before following your lead. The next few minutes went by quickly, more quickly than anyone could have predicted, as you raced toward the exit, meeting up with quite a few others in the process.

From the looks of it, the gang's all here.

You didn’t say anything more until you had made it safely, for the most part, out of the building, the door closed tightly, one metal door between you and them. All of you, with the exception of one, had made it out in one piece.

“What were you doing back there? What's going on? Who are you?” came the parade of questions as you walked, already sort of leaving the rest of them in your dust. While they clearly had no idea what was out here, you did.

...And you weren’t itching to see any more of those things tonight.

“Y/N, I was living there but I guess I’m not anymore” you decided, only looking back at them to answer the first of what you assumed would be a million more questions. The more ground you could cover before the sun went down, the better off you’d be.

If they thought one of them getting bit was bad, it was going to get so much worse in the dark. Those things thrived in the dark.

“Living there, with those things? You’ve gotta be mad” one of the scoffed, immediately forcing you to stop again.

Once again reminding you why you normally shied away from helping other people all together.

“You came out of a maze, didn’t you? Cause you definitely haven't been out here” you hummed, eyeing the blonde incredulously, though when an answer did come, it wasn’t from his lips. Instead, one of the original two you’d found, Thomas you thought you’d heard, spoke.

He was lost.

“Yeah we did, you didn’t?” he wondered, a genuine look of confusion dressing his face for a second. They hadn’t really considered an alternative, and why would they?

All this time, they had been under the impression that there was nothing out there in the scorch, but you were living proof that was a lie. It made him wonder that if that was a lie, there was a good chance other things had been too.

They just couldn’t be sure what.

“No, I grew up in the scorch” you shrugged, doing your very best to ignore the way their faces twisted up when you said it out loud. Of course they couldn’t understand what that was like, because no one could.

Only people who’d done it could even imagine what it was like.

The gladers weren’t exactly thrilled about this situation, but as uncertain as they were of you, it was clear that you were that much more concerned about them. Clearly, all this time out in the scorch had made you paranoid.

Rightfully so.

“You live out here? In this?” the blonde repeated, clearly missing the point of this conversation entirely. You wanted to make this as quick and concise as possible so as to not have to talk about it again but that wasn’t about to happen.

Not with all these shanks asking so many questions.

“Alright, I’m gonna need some names. Then I’ll tell you all about the forgotten ones” you decided, folding your arms crossed your chest, keeping as calm as you could be given the circumstances.

You didn’t have all day to sit around talking about this. From the looks of their friend, you didn’t even have till sundown anymore before you had at least one crank to deal with.

“That’s Minho, Frypan, and Teresa” he, Thomas, started, pointing each of them out in turn before moving on to the next.

“Over there is Aris,” the shortest of them.

“That’s Winston”  the soon to be crank

“This is Newt and I’m Thomas” he hummed, making it clear that there was some kind of connection between all of them that was much deeper than you would have thought, and confirming that was in fact his name.

At the very least, you had that going for you.

“There used to be more of us, out here, but as the time passes, there’s less” you started, deciding that a deal was a deal after all.

You told them you would explain this whole thing, after all.

“I’ve been on my own for a while, moving around to stay alive. Sometimes I stole from the WCKD supply trucks from the compound where you came from, but they aren’t even the biggest threat” you allowed, letting your eyes linger on Winston for a moment.

You knew that to them, he was family, but it was hard for you to see him as anything more than a ticking time bomb. You had just lost too many friends to cranks over the years to feel comfortable with him like that.

It was only a matter of time.

Thomas nodded as you spoke, thinking over each and every one of your words carefully.

After all, to the best he could tell, you had been living there all this time and when he stopped to think about it, it made sense. All those kids in the maze, they were there because they were immune, and they needed to be protected, but they weren’t the only ones left.

There was no way everyone else was dead.

Someone had to be alive somewhere, out there in the rubble, which wasn’t exactly wrong. There were plenty of people left, hiding out all over the scorch, just trying to survive.

“We’ll figure something out” he muttered, following your gaze to the male, who was currently holding tightly to Minho’s shoulder just to keep upright.

So far, it was just a sick feeling in his stomach and a dizziness clouding his thoughts, but soon it would be much more. You knew all the sighs, far too well, and you could have pinpointed exactly how it would happen.

It was a race against the clock.

“You can’t promise that. You don’t know this place like I do” you whispered, turning back around to continue on your way, not willing to discuss this any further. You wanted to believe in a cure as much as the next person, but you weren’t blind.

You didn’t get to be so naive.

“So why help us then? You clearly think this whole thing is hopeless anyway” Thomas called, jogging slightly to catch up with you, the rest of his group taking up the back. It wasn’t exactly easy to move through the sand, but you made it work.

All in all, it was easier for you than it was for them, just because you’d been doing it for longer.

You sighed, looking at him through the corner of your eye, desperately trying to understand what it was he wanted from you. This was a lot harder for you both than need be, as neither of you had a good history of working with others, but it was what it was.

It was plain and simple.

You didn’t want something to happen to them.

The Scorch had taken so much from so many people and you didn’t want to let it take anything else from anyone else if you could help it. At the very least, you could help guide them in this world they knew so little about.

It was all anyone could do, because there were so few of you left.

“Because it’s important,”

Thomas seemed to be determined to keep his family safe, and you could respect that. After all, he wasn’t the only one who’d had one, and you hadn’t been as successful as you’d hoped in your own quest.

If you could help him keep his people alive, you weren’t going to turn a blind eye to that.

“I lost my people, but you don’t have to lose yours” you decided, remembering the countless friends you’d had and lost over the years. The Scorch was real and dangerous, where nothing was ever guaranteed.

Between WCKD and the cranks, you’d lost everything. They would get bit; if they were immune, World In Catastrophe: Killzone Experiment Department was on top of it, and if they weren’t, they died.  

News of the immune, even out here, was hard to keep hidden. They were valuable, and as best you knew, WCKD was already tracking them down.

Thankfully, you knew how this went down, and if they had a shot out here, it was with you.

“You would do that for us?” he questioned, unsure of what in the world was happening here. He thought he understood the world, though he understood what was going on but every time he got any information, it flipped all over again.

Thomas just felt like he couldn’t win, no matter what he did.

“Yeah, but you have to know Winston isn’t going to make it. He probably has half an hour left, at most” you whispered. There was no way you could guarantee he had even that much time but he certainly didn’t have any more than that.

It wasn’t really the news you wanted to give him but you didn’t have much choice in the matter. He’d been bitten and since he clearly wasn’t immune, that wasn’t going to change.

“Yeah, yeah, I know”

None of this was going to be easy but at the very least, he won’t have to do it alone.

[wtfevenismypage]

Pro Fighter

request: Hi, i have a request. Spencer x reader or bau team x reader where she gets kidnapped but no one knows that she was trained in the red room. The unsub live streams it to the bau team and *cue the black widow interrogation scene from avengers (2012)* and they are just whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck lmao. The ending is up to you, sorry if the request is a bit messy.

Warnings: Fighting, Cursing, Shook team

A/N:Guys I’m so bad at writing fight scenes it isn’t even funny, i’m better at making peoples hearts ache from fluff or angst! But I tried my best! This definitely isn’t my best work btw

Shit.

You woke up with a booming headache and a sharp pain in your ankle.

Looking around, the light is dim. A single hung light-bulb on the wooden panels of the ceiling. The smell is horrible, but you know what it is once you look around. Dead cows dangling from the ceiling. Rotting.

A camera is placed in front of you. The unsub is either streaming to the dark web, or to your team. Probably your team to drag them into his trap.

“Well well well, look at you! Finally awake huh sweet girl?”

A low, raspy voice spits out, walking out of the shadows and standing right behind the camera.

Tall, big gut, greasy black hair, and a rotten toothed smile.

“Good evening Mr. Meyer.”

He smiles, showing off his moldy yellow teeth.

“The rest of your friends are watching by the way. So unless you want a world of pain I advise not dropping any hints. In fact, don’t speak at all.”

You repress the urge to smirk, and you look directly in the camera, before feeling a wet trickle down your forehead.

Blood.

“Damn. I’m off my game today. I blame you Morgan. You kept yapping and yapping last night and I never got any sleep.”

The man seemed to not like you talking to them. He frowns, stomping forward and grabbing you by the hair. He yanks your face up and you can only hope that Garcia isn’t looking.

“Don’t talk to them sweet girl. I want your attention.”

He let’s go, crouching in front of you. His breath stenches of rotten fruit and eggs. 

“Now then, since you are going to die tonight, figure I might as well have fun and tell you a story beforehand.”

You almost sigh, knowing that the team is scrambling to find you, but you have to get information. Of course you weren’t worried. You were raised in the red room for your entire childhood. Fighting on a sprained ankle and a concussion would probably hurt, but it would be alright. You would survive.

As long as you don’t get too terribly hurt.

“Once upon a time. There was a little boy.”

He stands, raising a hand and smacking you across the face. It stings, leaving a searing red feeling on your cheek, nearing your eye.

“This little boy had a father who had a lot of anger. His father brought women home every night, killing them slowly, like I’m doing to you.”

Another slap.

“But what father didn’t know, is that his precious son watched from afar, admiring the work he did. I am taking my father’s place in this world. His legacy will continue with me!”

He delivers a harsh punch to your stomach, making you groan and curl over,  shutting your eyes tightly.

Alright time to end this guy.

“His legacy huh? You wanna make him proud? You won’t get the chance.”

You lean back in your chair as he leans in, smashing your head against his and knocking him back, standing up in the chair and spinning to hit him with the chair, breaking it in the process.

He stumbles on the ground for a moment before getting up, running straight at you. You hop up, landing on his shoulders and bashing at his head with his elbows as he tries desperately to beat your lower back and thighs.

“You fucking bitch!”

You continue to bash his head in with your elbows until he stumbles to the ground, passing out on top of you.

“Hey guys, you find out where I am yet? Because I have no fucking clue.”

You turn to the camera, wiping at the blood staining your dress shirt.

-

-

-

-

-

Meanwhile, the team was still trying to process what happened.

“Did anyone else see that? She just took down a 379 pound man who’s twice her size by herself. Did we- did we teach her that?”

“No we did not. Let’s hope she tells us what that place is or we’ll never get to question that.”

“Alrighty what do we have here? It looks like a butcher place? Or whatever you call them. Ummmm, There’s a whole lot of dead cow. He couldn’t have taken me far. The clock on the camera says it’s only been twenty minutes. I’m sure you guys have questions but I am getting tired of the scent of rotten meat, please hurry.”

“Garcia, Find her.”

“Already there, got two Butchery’s Within a fifty mile radius, go get my girl please.”

They split up into two teams, Rossi, Morgan, and Spencer on one team, while Hotch and Prentiss were on the other. 

You busied yourself on the floor, tying the man up with the rope that was previously tied around your limbs.

Your entire body ached with the feeling of his fists beating you up before you had woken up.

“Ugh... My head is killing me...”

Your brain was throbbing from under your skull, the pain worst at the sight of your bloody gash. It was overwhelming. You could feel the way your mind so desperately wanted to shut itself down, but you couldn’t let it until they got you safe and sound.

There was a loud rapping on the large door from outside, an aggressively familiar voice following it.

“FBI agents put your hands up! We’re coming in!”

“It’s me Morgan, unsub is unconscious and alive.”

The door opens, Revealing three of your favorite agents. A smile on your face as their guns return to the holsters. Morgan rushes up to you, holding your head and checking to see how bad the injury is.

“Well my pro fighter, you have a whole lot of explaining to do when we get to Quantico.”

You shrug, wrapping an arm around his and Reid’s shoulders for support to walk. 

“Yeah well, I might pass out so it can wait.”

PERMANENT TAGLIST(OPEN) @pinkdiamond1016 @spencer-reids-snow-white @sheepfather @eusuntgroot @libradolan

[kankuroplease]

Can you tell us more about Katsura and her relationships with Shino? :)

Well this came out longer than expected BUT it is sectioned (not proof read, so oops). Hope you enjoy 🖤

About Katsura

For starters, she’s very aware that she’ll never be this great kunoichi. She’s not from a major clan that has special techniques, her chakra is barely above average, and her size is a disadvantage.

So to compensate for what she sees as short comings; She trains, studies, and tries to keep up with her teammates/not be a burden.

Will train with her sister even past her team training exercises.

Katsura is very logical about things. There’s always a logical explanation or way of handling things.

Loves writing and will carry a notebook to write in wherever she may go.

She also enjoys dressing up just because on her off days.

Doesn’t want anyone to look at her though. It’s annoying and uncomfortable to her when people she doesn’t know pay her too much attention.

She isn’t proud of it, but she has played dumb and showed some skin to get information on missions. It’s amazing how idiotic some people are over cleavage 💀

Very envious of civilians with soft hands and has definitely invested in creams to try and help with her callouses

She has been helping at her grandparents bakery from time to time for as long as she can remember.

Its one of the reason she bakes so much. She doesn’t want to get rusty~ the other is it seems to make her friends happy.

Never had a crush before Shino and just assumed she wasn’t capable of feeling like that. Genuinely curious how people can just develop crushes on people they don’t really know.

Gets really excited when one of the beetles she raises does well/finds a mate. Like she is so proud of her beetle-companion.

Also gets very upset if it gets flung off a branch by its competitor or mate. She will pout and try to soothe said beetle-companion.

Beyond ticklish. Tries to hide it but even the slightest playful touch of her neck will have her laughing and snorting.

Touch starved, honestly. Will never admit it but she loves hugs. They make her feel warm and fuzzy.

She doesn’t remember her mother at all because she was so young when she passed away, but she still will visit her grave to ask her to watch over her father. He’s getting old and he’s still a recluse.

Absolute morning person and likely to want to crash before 8 pm if she’s not on a mission

Poisonous~ no but fr, she’s crafted her own poison to coat her sword in

Her sword is her baby. Custom made just for her by her father. No one is allowed to handle it for the previous reason.

How It Started

When she met Shino, it was simply by chance. Her dad told she was small but strong like a beetle.

And unfortunately, the beetle he compared her too got away before she could observe it and collect information on it properly.

So she went searching for her escaped beetle and ran into Shino.

Who told her he had no seen that bug but told her where can probably find one.

She was highly insulted but her father raised her not to let her emotions take control of her actions

So she let it go (sort of) and followed his advice. Which did lead her to her first pet beetle

After that, she made a point of saying hi or waving to Shino whenever she’d see him around for helping her out.

And they built a friendship over the years and all was fine with the world. They’d go bug hunting and Shino became someone she really respected and enjoyed talking to.

She could listen to him talk about insects all day because he sort of lights up and his knowledge was pretty impressive

And his voice is nice too~

Also, she really liked his dad too. He was so kind and even accepted cookies she had baked for Shino before realizing he was on a mission.

She totally loves Shinos bugs (before she realized she loved Shino)! even asked their names. Not that she would remember all of them or even recognize one from the other, she was just very curious about these special little guys.

It took the coming of war for her to realize just how much Shino actually meant to her.

And she didn’t expect to survive the war either. So she put all her feelings in an origami beetle that she gave to Shino.

It wasn’t like anyone unfolds them anyways, so it’s safe.

But by some miracle, they both survive.

Now she’s blushing heavily whenever he’s around because ‘oh no’, yes she’s always been aware his conventionally good looking but this feeling keeps growing and now his looks are a burden on her heart and mind

She was honestly pretty embarrassed about that origami beetle he still has sitting a little too close to light for her comfort.

All it would take is for him to look at it in the light to see her confession and she’s not even supposed to be alive to face this possibility.

Tried asking her father what he liked about her mother and none of that matched her (soft figure and extroverted bubbly personality) and Aori gave her ‘the talk’ while completely red faced.

And once she told her teammates, they basically told her to stop being a chicken and just tell him how she feels.

now Katsura does find that just telling him would be the most logical thing to do… but it’s easier said than done.

What if he doesn’t feel the same? Can they still be friends?

Shino pricked up on her not so subtle changes in behavior and wasn’t sure what to make of it.

She’s standing closer, stealing glances when she thinks he’s not looking, jumping a bit when he’d call her name, blushing and losing train of thought whenever their hands accidentally brush, etc.

He’s almost certain he knows what all this means, but maybe it’s just wishful thinking?

Katsura has always smiled easily for him and never seemed to forget him no matter how long it took for them to see each other again.

Maybe it was the way she always was so proud to show him her latest beetle she nurtured from larval or how she seriously always told his beetles to take care of him for her before any missions no matter how small.

Perhaps it was the fact that she always told him she thought he was amazing

Maybe it was the way they both could comfortably enjoy each other’s company without words

Or maybe the way she fussed over the children’s novel she was writing.

The way she always made sure other acknowledged him in group settings by mentioning him or asking him questions.

Her snorting laugh that she’s so embarrassed about had grown on him too. Also made it easy to find her

But at some point he’d developed a crush of his own, so it would be great if she felt the same.

It’s not until Kiba discovers the origami beetle and ask who gave him the love letter

Shino’s like… love letter?

Kiba holding it up to the light so Shino can faintly see the writing in it.

Kiba guesses it’s probably from that mean little thing that always seems to be around Shino these days. In fact, he’s pretty sure it’s her because of the faint scent still on it.

Shino looks calm on the surface but inside, Shino.exe has stopped working. Some quite a few bugs are escaping and kiba is cackling because he f**kin’ KNEW IT!!

Now they’re both acting strangely with each other trying to figure out their timing but what better timing than during one of their forest walks?

Shino waits until they’re absolutely alone (None of his bugs spotted Katsura’s nosy teammates) and Katsura is distracted by if her beetle is ready to find a mate/leave home.

She’s humming to herself that this one doesn’t seem to want to leave when Shino murmurs he can’t blame the little guy. He wouldn’t want to leave her side either.

Queue Katsura turning red and telling him not to joke like that, because she might get the wrong idea.

He tilted his head before asking her why would joke about that? He likes her, and the rest was a blur as her heart was beating too loud to hear everything he said outside of the end of his confession.

Of course she said yes too loudly and then asked him to repeat what he said because she wants to know remember his words forever 🥰

Them as a couple

Once they become official, nothing much changes honestly

They still go on bug hunts and walks in the forest, but will to hold hands while doing these things now.

Shino isn’t into too much PDA of course, but he doesn’t mind her cuddling up to him in private. In fact he welcomes it.

Katsura is the first one to say ‘I love you’ and she’s not shy about saying it.

Will leave him notes to read each day if either one of them has a particularly long mission. (they are numbered and yes she expects him to wait and read them)

He’s also been the subject of several questionable dishes because baking is her thing, not cooking. She is very sorry, Shino.

They both decided she should to stick to cookbooks for awhile after the last random dish

Garden picnics are something they both enjoy whenever their schedules allow and Katsura actually knows how to prepare foods for such an occasion

Shino will have a few more butterflies than normal join them because he knows it will make her smile.

Took them awhile to share a passionate kiss because, they’re both patient types and were waiting on the other to take the lead

But once they did and she heard his beetles buzzing— and he sighed against her lips that was it, she practically jumped on top of him and then apologized profusely later

Shino knows she’s capable, but will still get things down from higher shelves for her.

Katsura loves tracing shapes in Shino’s palms and can/will fall asleep holding his hand. His hands are always so warm and calming to her

She knitted them matching sweaters for winter because she really liked the idea. They didn’t turn out perfect but Shino wore his anyways and made her whole day!

Shino was very supportive of Katsura retiring to take a bigger role at her grandparents bakery and pursue writing. It’s something she always enjoyed and he’s ngl, the thought of them having more time together made him happy.

Katsura was also very supportive of Shino becoming a sensei! What a cute job and she could get intel of what kids may be interested

Both of them would still rather eat at home but will go with their friends. Katsura is more likely to convince Shino it’s good to socialize every once in awhile… although if he wants her to be more selfish with him, she will gladly do so~

Overall just a really sweet couple that’s over the moon about each other 🖤

[adhduck]

Oh Well, I Guess We’re Gonna Pretend

AO3

(Major spoilers for rqg 207)

Wilde is at a party with all his loved ones, and everything in his life is finally falling into place.

He’s also unconscious on the floor of the world’s last safehouse, and something is coming for him.

--

“Come on, Oscar, dance with us.”

Wilde blinks, realizes Hamid is standing in front of him with his hand outstretched; probably a symbolic gesture, considering he’d be hard-pressed to pull someone double his height.

Smiling, Wilde sets his half-empty champagne flute on the table. “Of course. Care to join, Zolf?”

Zolf, who’s slouching in the next seat with his long, worn coat tucked around him in a fabulous display of I am not a party person, scoffs fondly. “Absolutely not. ‘Sides, it’s yer party, Wilde, not mine.”

“It’s our party,” Wilde says with mock offense, putting a hand on his chest. “Didn’t you hear my toast?”

“Half of it, maybe.”

Wilde rolls his eyes, but relents and squeezes Zolf’s shoulder; presses down a smile when Zolf catches his hand for a second and pats it. “I’ll get you to have fun one day, Zolf, mark my words.” He’s rewarded with a gruff little mumble, and then Hamid tugs on his coattail to pull him away.

[Cel is still reeling from the shock of electricity when they see it. It’s large, with a body that could be humanoid if not for the oversized head, how its body seems not to take up space but distort it. If not for the six-foot swords it has instead of arms.

Instinct kicking in, Cel pulls two bombs from their pockets and throws them in rapid succession. Even with their hands trembling a little – they always do, the first few moments of combat – Cel know each one is perfectly weighted and near perfectly aimed.

The creature doesn’t even flinch.

It only takes a moment to process what that means – limited bombs, a 5% chance of hitting at best, almost a third of their own health taken in one hit – before Cel abandons the idea of attacking and reaches instead for Hamid. He’s desperately light, clothes singed and hissing; as Cel pulls him to their chest, he curls instinctively into the touch.

“Hang on, little buddy,” they whisper, trying fiercely to sound sure. “You just keep dreaming for now; I’ll keep you safe.”

They just need to get him through the door.]

There are a few people dancing, but the clear stars are Azu and Kiko—partly due to Azu’s shimmering, lightly glowing pink gown, but mostly because of the dance itself. It’s a bright, lively partner dance Wilde hasn’t seen before, where they pull in and out of each other’s embrace with twirls and dips and lots of laughter. It looks equally exhausting and exhilarating.

Azu notices him mid-spin and brightens immediately, waving him over. “Kiko, you mind if I show Wilde the ropes?”

Kiko grins and gracefully steps back, half-bowing in the process. “Yeah, sure. Long as I can watch.”

So Azu works Wilde through the steps, out of sync with the music at first to get them right, then faster as he gains confidence, and soon they, too, are spinning and laughing. “You,” Wilde says when they pause to catch their breath, adjusting the frill around his neck, “are an excellent dance partner, Azu.”

Azu preens a little. “Oh, thank you! Though I doubt I’ve got much competition, knowing Zolf.”

Chuckling, Wilde glances at the man in question to find him looking back, chin in hand and a fond smile tugging at his mouth—for a moment, at least, before he darts his eyes away with flushing cheeks. Wilde’s heart sings.

[Azu looks sharply between her friends – half of them unconscious, all of them wounded – and the advancing creature. It seems completely unconcerned by the weapons being pulled as it wades into the fray, dodging a heavy swing from Zolf without even acknowledging him. The swords protruding from its shoulders are almost as long as she is tall.

We can’t win this, Azu realizes. Not while it’s this strong. Pressing a hand to her chest, where her pendant rests safely beneath the armor, she calls to her goddess with words of love and protection and rage. The divine energy builds in her chest, bringing the dull glow of her armor to a bright shine; she throws her hand outwards, flinging the energy with it in all directions, and there—at last, the creature hesitates. It stops as suddenly as if caught in a rockslide, making a noise halfway between a groan of pain and the grinding of stuck gears, and Azu starts to feel hopeful.

Then, it raises its blade.]

Azu catches the movement and smiles conspiratorially. “You know, there are gardens out back that are much quieter than in here.”

”Ah, but you forget,” Wilde replies, putting on his best performer voice. “That just guarantees Sasha will be there, hidden amongst the foliage, waiting to strike.”

Giggling a little, Azu says, “The worst you’ll get from her is some rumors about you and Zolf that are actually true.”

Wilde gasps in (mostly) faux horror. “Don’t even say that.”

Azu laughs for real now, a full and surprised thing, and pushes his shoulder lightly. “Go spend time with him, the party will survive without you a while.” Wilde pouts a little at that, and she tips her head toward Hamid; he’s dancing with complete abandon a few feet away, wings half-unfurled and arms raised high in the air as he spins. Already, a few people have been pulled into his orbit, letting their awkward shuffling loosen into something more inelegant, more natural. “We’ve got it covered. Now go, before you start having deadlines again.”

“To be fair, we have an entire holiday between now and then,” Wilde argues—a bit superfluously, considering he’s already moving away.

Zolf greets Wilde’s approach by sitting up in his chair, eyebrows furrowed and hands raised defensively. “If you try to get me to dance, Wilde, I swear to gods—”

“Already learned my lesson with that one, darling.” Zolf’s ears go a little pink, and Wilde is powerless against the urge to lean into it. “Of course, there are plenty of dances we haven’t tried together—”

“Oh, sod off,” Zolf says, kicking Wilde lightly in the shin; his ears are red, though, so he’s already lost the fight.

[Augusta makes no noise as she’s stabbed through the heart; dead before the pain had a chance to wake her. It’s a mercy, perhaps, but one Cel refuses to let happen to anyone else.

The creature shifts, pulling back its bloodied weapon with Hamid as the clear target, and Cel lunges towards the door, clutching Hamid fiercely against them—and is stopped cold as the creature pierces right through Hamid’s chest.

Like Augusta, Hamid doesn’t cry out when he’s stabbed. He doesn’t move, either; not even when the blade is yanked back out with just force it nearly tugs him from Cel’s arms. Panting, they gather him back against their chest, whatever miniscule safety that might entail, and feel for a pulse. It’s there, thank gods, but only just. He might only have seconds left, and there’s nothing they can do.

At the corner of Hamid’s mouth, Cel can see a smile – the kind he might give during the opening toast of a party, now just the shadow of some wonderful dream – and they do not cry, because what fucking good would that do?]

Just to seal the deal, Wilde drops to his knees in front of Zolf’s chair, bringing them almost eye to eye, and flashes his shiniest grin as he teases, “Don’t worry, I know you love it.” He allows a few seconds for Zolf to huff and pointedly not answer, feeling his chest radiate with warmth, then adds, “Anyway, want to get out of here?”

Zolf’s eyebrows raise, then quickly furrow. “What’re you- that was an awful transition line, ya know. Unless you’re tryna seduce me or somethin’, in which case, why.”

“I’m always trying to seduce you, Zolf, it just never works,” Wilde replies easily. “That’s why I enjoy it so much. And anyway, that’s not what I was asking about. There’s apparently a garden out back, and I thought you might want to take a walk with me.”

“Ain’t you got allergies?”

“It’ll be quiet out there. Poetic.”

Zolf considers for a second, looking Wilde over with a slowly forming smile he’s definitely not conscious of, and for a moment there’s nothing else Wilde wants more than this: kneeling in front of the man he loves, basking in his quiet attention, knowing there’s exciting work ahead and time enough to rest before it comes.

[Zolf spins around, ready to level another attack – he hasn’t hit the thing yet, but maybe if he aims a little lower, forces it to turn for him instead – when he sees the blade sliding out of Hamid’s chest. No. Absolutely not. Without checking it’s clear, he rushes forward, dropping the glaive to his side and redirecting that power into the tips of his fingers. He licks his thumb, presses it firmly to Hamid’s forehead, and, with a low note of please humming in the back of his chest, mutters words of hope and determination into the staticky air.

The wound heals almost immediately, closing like a budding flower in reverse to leave a raised, slightly jagged line of scar tissue; the only proof of how close Hamid was to death. His wings flutter, trying to unfurl in the confines of Cel’s arms, and for a moment, he stirs. Zolf and Cel both breathe out in relief, but by the time he opens his eyes, the poison overcomes him again, and he curls back into Cel’s chest with a contented sound, asleep and completely unaware of the danger around him.

Not exactly what I had in mind, Zolf thinks, but there’s no sharpness to it. The poison in the air was strong enough to knock out people twice Hamid’s size, so he can’t imagine how strong it must be on him. And besides: this might not be a fight where all of them – any of them – get out alive. Can he really blame Hamid for wanting to dream instead?]

“All right, Wilde,” Zolf says at last. “Let’s go for a walk.”

The gardens aren’t particularly large, but they use the space well—bright flowers lining the walkway, bushes and trees bunched together to create the illusion of depth and privacy. Beneath the largest tree, there’s a clear spot where the light filters through like sparkles and the roots breach the soil in just the right way to make a sort of alcove.

It’s exactly the sort of place Wilde would’ve yearned to write poetry in as a teenager, so of course he tugs Zolf over to sit down.

“Thought this was a walk,” Zolf says, eyebrows raised, but makes no argument when Wilde lays down with his head in Zolf’s  lap. His fingers quickly find their way into Wilde’s hair, untangling it little by little, and Wilde can’t stop himself from pushing into the touch with a little hum. Thankfully, Zolf just chuckles, scratching lightly at Wilde’s scalp for a moment before continuing.

There’s silence for a few moments, and Wilde idly searches for a pun he can use to fill it; it’s difficult to focus, though, when Zolf is gathering his hair into sections for a braid, those careful fingers brushing occasionally against his temple, his neck, his jaw.

Finally, what Wilde settles for is: “I hope we’re actually allowed out here. I’d hate to go home early because Grizzop took a swing at me again.”

Zolf snorts. “Don’t tempt me. I’ve always wished I had seen that in person.”

“Some partner you are,” Wilde grumbles, trying not to melt when Zolf tucks a few shorter strands of hair behind his ear. “S’posed to defend me, not join the enemy.”

[Zolf does a rapid once-over of Cel to make sure they’re not injured as well. They’re panting and wide-eyed and definitely only not in shock because there’s not time for it, but seem physically all right, which is about as much as he can hope for right now.

He glances to the door of the lab, where Ada and Skraak also seem to be managing okay—and, importantly, where there’s clean air and a door between them and the monster. Grabbing Cel’s arm, Zolf injects as much authority in his voice as he can and orders, “Get in there, close the door, be safe.”

Without waiting for a reply, he sets his glaive on fire and turns back to the fight. They might not all make it out of here – always a risk, in this line of work – but he’ll still do his damndest to make sure at least some of them do.]

There’s no response, save for a suppressed smile and the continuous back-and-forth motion of Zolf’s steady hands. Wilde basks in it for a moment, getting to lay quietly in the grass without even his allergies interrupting them. It brings to mind when he was a child, rolling down muddy hills with his sister and seeing how long the world tiled after they reached the bottom, dazed and laughing.

“She would have loved this party,” he says, brushing a hand through the barely damp grass at his hip. “Isola, I mean.”

“You could’ve brought her, you know,” Zolf replies. “I could’ve- I dunno, watched her, or somethin’. Not like I was doing much anyway.”

Wilde laughs. “She would be terrified of you.”

[Moving has already proven dangerous, so Cel shifts Hamid in their arms and throws him through the door; once he’s safely inside, they swallow their alchemical allocation and pull a previously untouched potion from their jacket. Dragon’s breath—the one they’d been so excited to get after seeing a glimpse of Hamid’s power; the one they’d chattered back and forth about days or maybe months ago, excited to see when Cel might try it out.

“Not leaving you,” Cel says firmly to Zolf’s back, and chugs the potion. Lightning crackles in their body once again, except this time, it feels powerful instead of painful. This time, Cel is going to be helpful instead of helpless. Whatever it takes.]

Zolf snorts. “Oh, so that’s why I haven’t met her yet.”

“Yes, I’m just absolutely terrified you’ll smite her with all your holy rage,” Wilde deadpans, twisting obediently when Zolf taps the side of his head. “Or gods forbid, convert her to hope.”

“Oi,” Zolf says, tugging lightly on Wilde’s hair. “That hope has saved your arse twenty times by now.”

[Azu catches sight of Hamid breathing and nearly crumples with relief. He’s not dead, she didn’t kill him, she might not have to lose someone else—but there’s not time for that, not yet. They have to destroy this thing first, before it hurts anyone else.

She swings her axe as hard as she can, a scream building in her throat as it moans through the air, and – miraculously – it connects. There’s a satisfying thunk, a sharp note of pain; but as she goes to hit it again, it seems not just to dodge, but actively unform and reform around her axe. Learning. Adapting.

In the second it takes for Azu to regain her footing, the monster sinks one of its blades into Sumutnyerl’s chest. The air seems to freeze for a moment, but the strike is lower than it intended, in the stomach rather than the heart, so maybe it isn’t fatal, but Azu doesn’t know. She just doesn’t know.]

Humming noncommittally, Wilde turns his head to look at Zolf, and when he sees the concentration in Zolf’s summer sky eyes, he’s pierced all over again with the force of how much he loves this man—and how much he, in return, is loved. Gods, Zolf is smiling the way he only ever does for a Campbell, and he’s braiding Wilde���s hair as if it’s the most important work his hands have been tasked with, and he looks so utterly, brilliantly happy that Wilde can hardly stand it.

“You alive in there?” Zolf says, tapping him lightly on the cheek.

[There is only one person left unharmed, the horror of the situation made almost a farce by Wilde’s oversized neck ruff and glittering cape. Almost, but not quite, because when the creature turns – body shifting in and out of focus, sword-like arms dripping with the blood of every other being in this corridor – it turns for him.]

Wilde smiles, catching Zolf’s hand before he can pull away. “Yeah,” he murmurs, stupidly fond with it, and rests his lips against Zolf’s knuckles. Zolf’s breath hitches, staring with undisguised awe and quickly reddening cheeks, and Wilde can’t even look at him, he’s so happy. He ducks his head, pushing it against their joined hands; feels Zolf’s warm callouses all the way into his bones. “Thanks to you.”

[There is only one person left.]

“Wilde,” Zolf breathes; a prayer, a promise. Lips press clumsily to his hair, brush his temple as they soak in each other’s presence. “You saved me, too, ya know. So- so many times. I need you, yeah? And I- it- gods, I’m horrible at this, but I just, you’re

[Zolf sees it, this time, when Wilde dies. Sees the sword pierce his chest – right in the heart, a perfect shot – and yank back out with almost careless indifference before the creature turns and does the same thing to Sumutnyerl.

Even dead, Wilde manages to look artistic. His ridiculous cape is flung out beneath him, one arm draped above his head, the barest trace of a smile at the corner of his mouth. He’d been this way after the crash, too, impaled almost a foot off the ground with his limbs dangling and chin flung up to the sky; the perfect semblance of a martyr being raised into heaven. Had he been unconscious then, too? Zolf thinks. Or did he feel the spike go all the way through his chest before he succumbed from the pain?

Doesn’t matter. Zolf had time to mourn when he saved Wilde then; he doesn’t have time now.

Skraak and Ada both attack, but Zolf doesn’t know if the hits land, refuses to process anything that isn’t Wilde and the mere seconds left before he’s gone for good. He throws himself forward, landing hard on his knees beside Wilde’s head, and starts to pray. The magic builds like strong drink in his throat, and he clumsily wipes the blood from Wilde’s mouth as the spell reaches its peak—and is nearly knocked over as the monster deals a crushing blow to his temple.

His vision goes briefly white, blood already dripping down his cheek and jaw, and the magic begins to fizzle away, but he refuses, he refuses. Gritting his teeth against the pain, Zolf presses a hand firmly to the desecration of Wilde’s chest, cradles his cheek with the other. He’s still warm with hope, and Zolf channels that into his prayer, pressing their foreheads together in a way that might’ve been painful, had Wilde been awake to feel it.

Please, he begs the power inside him; begs anyone who’ll listen. Please. Let this be enough to bring him back to me.

The magic bubbles inside Zolf once more, sparkling and bright and warm, and there’s no way to know, really, if it’s enough. It doesn’t matter, of course, because he doesn’t need to know. Because when he presses his mouth to Wilde’s, stroking his cheek and breathing every last ounce of that vital energy into his body, Zolf has hope.

And there, where Zolf’s fingers curl tenderly against Wilde’s neck, new and weak but steady all the same—a pulse.]

 The first thing Wilde registers is breath on his face, warmth in his throat—then pain, all over his body but especially in his chest, gods, what happened? He opens his eyes, hoping to regain his bearings; Zolf is there, face mere inches away from his own, which is a nice start.

Realizing he’s awake, Zolf pulls away, fingertips brushing against Wilde’s cheek as he goes. His other hand is pressed firmly to Wilde’s chest, and there’s blood running freely from a wound at his temple. He looks about to cry.

If Wilde didn’t feel unmoored before, he certainly does now. “Zolf- wh- what-”

In lieu of an answer, Zolf pulls Wilde to his feet. There are flashes of movement to the side, none of which Wilde is capable of processing yet; Zolf grabs his arm, which is easier. He looks resolved, in that urgent way he used to get just before leaving on solo missions; Wilde has just enough time to be scared about that before Zolf pulls him close and says, “Get the others out and be safe.”

Wilde opens his mouth in question, but Zolf’s already shoving him away. He stumbles backwards a few steps, more out of shock than actual force, before losing his balance and landing hard on his elbows just inside the lab. His neck snaps back a little, making his vision swim, but he blinks hard to clear it and now, now, he sees it all. The creature. The dead. The ones left standing.

For just a moment, Wilde catches sight of Zolf’s face before he turns away. His eyes nearly glow, lips parted around gritted teeth, and there is rage in his features like Wilde has never seen before. Then he raises his burning glaive, this idiotic man that Wilde loves so unbearably much, and growls, “Right. It’s yer turn now.”