#Lily Topples the World

[kaeyas-beloved]

spider lily

Character: Kaeya

— the gods really do scorn his existence

CWs: gn!reader (no pronouns), ANGST, hurt/no comfort, you and Kaeya have a kid but it could be biological or adopted, death (reader + child), blood

val's no sympathy november masterlist

haha... happy (very belated) birthday Kaeya <3

Kaeya vividly remembers how he felt the first time you asked him on a date. It was like he was on top of the world, the broadest smile on his face as he agreed to meet you for dinner later, all while having his heart and throat squeeze itself of life. Like the organ that was responsible for keeping him on Teyvat was trying to sabotage him tying a weight to itself and tugging painfully. Tread carefully Kaeya Alberich, remember your place.

Of course, things couldn't be this easy, not when everything good resulted in a double-edged sword stabbing him in the back. There had to be a catch - were you pitying him? Mondstadt knew the bits and pieces of his history with the Ragnvindrs, you easily could too. No, maybe you, the one that captured his attention after many run-ins around the city of wind, had your eye on him too, but for all the wrong reasons.

If he was honest, he almost didn't go. He was a man of his word, yes, but right before the time Kaeya was supposed to meet you, he felt more like he was a ten-year-old boy again, scared and unsure of what the future held. Would you even actually be there? Maybe he just should go home... but what if you're waiting for him? He can't just embarrass you by leaving you there...

Just one peek, he told himself, rounding the building until he stood at the back entrance and sticking his head in. Every day after that one he thanked the Archons that he did, because after pssting Diluc over and inquiring if you were in the building, to which the redhead sighed and nodded, Kaeya steeled himself and sat down with you, offering a small lie that work kept him and that he was terribly sorry. That one decision let a relationship like no other that he's experienced blossom, and his days went from the monotonous curse to slightly better moments to repetition he was comfortable and content with. He even managed by some miracle to get to raise a kid with you, vowing to love both of you with all his heart. To provide for you both the best he can.

So where did he go wrong? Why did he come home to the door rammed through, swinging in the gentle wind? What about the sight of the home the three of you built together over the years destroyed, furniture toppled over and drawers obviously rummaged through?

For the first time in a while Kaeya felt fear strike his body, blood running cold as he called out your name and your kid’s name, begging for a response. Each second that ticked by worsened that chilling feeling as he checked room after room, finding each one turned upside down and void of life.

When the ground floor showed no luck the male climbed the stairs, tripping over in his haste as he disregarded all the other rooms and made a beeline for the bedroom. Out of all the rooms, that one was more likely where he’d find you.

And find you he did… but he wished it wasn’t dead in a pool of your own blood, eyes lifelessly stuck open. What was worse was the body of his kid not too far away from you, curled on their side. From the scene alone, it seems as if you were crawling towards them to protect them, even in your last breath.

Evidence be damned, as the tears fall down his face Kaeya collects the broken forms of you and your kid into his arms. He doesn't care for the blood staining his clothes or how loud his sobs are or how awkward the position is because all that matters is getting to hold his spouse and child for the last time.

At least he was allowed to hold them in peace, his final goodbye. That was the only thing he was granted amidst the pain.

Tag list (both regular and event exclusive): @spoopy-fish-writes // @that-enby-alien // @xenuuu // @kaeyaloml // @x-zho // @mariposa666haruka // @quackquackmfs // @kunikuzushiii // @genshin-impact-writings // @ventisweetheart // @lordbugs // @leena-shi // @ari-the-wr1ter // @xiaos-wife // @milkwithspiceyicecubes // @stygianoir // @francisnyx // @leemidnightmoon

+

@kaiserkisser // @multipleshadesofblue // @moloteco-real // @kithewanderingme // @scaramood // @ii-lily2 // @esuz // @kochothehoe // @cindywasneverhere

[sixlane]

barty reg and Lily?

LISTENNNN. i’ve actually been cooking up this post for a while and you’ve just given me a beautiful opportunity to talk about them. regubartylily, as i’m calling them, is a classic love triangle with barty at the crux. this ship hurts so bad and, at its core, is about letting go.

imagine, barty and regulus are childhood friends turned codependent parasites. they have never dated but they are each others first everything. they kiss and fool around occasionally but they never talk about it. their relationship just is what it is.

enter lily, who is regulus’ secret arch nemesis (read: reg&lily post). reg holds a deep dislike for lily because she is everything he wishes he could be and vice versa.

at some point barty develops an interest in lily because she wears this beautifully cracked mask that he cant help but want to see under. lily likes barty because he’s the only one who’s noticed she’s wearing a mask in the first place. after a while of orbiting around each other, barty and lily start dating… <- devastating for regulus, the guy who has never gotten a single thing he’s wanted his whole life. losing his best friend to the girl who has everything already. the boy reg is using to replace his brother being stolen by another fucking gryffindor…. he is HEARTBROKEN. it’s just another reason he’s inadequate. (and it’s different from jegulus/jily because james will always be unattainable to reg but barty is HIS. and now he is being replaced by the Better Version of himself). but he refuses to go down without a fight. he will not let go if he can help it. he will not allow his relationship with barty change. they probably still kiss sometimes while barty and lily are dating because that’s just what they do but lily knows barty and reg are weird with each other. and this is the girl who lives in a world where everything she has is balanced so precariously, ready to topple the moment she isn’t living up to Expectations. and now she feels like her relationship with barty (the one actual good thing in her life) is about to fall apart too because regulus can’t appreciate the things he has. he wants more. it’s a constant game of tug of war with barty in the middle (who btw is not oblivious to this. he just doesn’t understand why he can’t be something for both of them and he refuses to choose).

so anyway it’s about letting go. reg letting go of the codependency he shared with barty. lily letting go of insecurity and needing someone else to tell her who she can be.

enter evan (yes he’s here too). when barty meets evan everything clicks into place. evan will never need a single thing from barty. this is barty’s happy ending where he learns to let go of being needed. and reg and lily have to let go of barty completely in the contexts they knew/used him.

and that’s where i see reg and lily developing this begrudging friendship where they are both kind of mourning this loss but realizing it’s all for the better. barty could never actually fill the holes they were shoving him into. they gotta fix their shit themselves. and they’re happy that barty finally found a place he can just exist in without offering an inhuman level of devotion and self sacrifice.

this is the good ending. in the bad ending reg and lily murder barty together and help each other hide the body 🥰

[sunflowervoltwentyeight]

Hi! This is a fic rec of my favorite established relationship fics. These fics are organized by word count from longest to shortest. You can view my other fic recs here. Enjoy!

We Are Only Just the Beginning by afirecannotdie (129k)

In the dim light of a dorm kitchen, Harry Styles meets a boy who flips his life upside down. Three years later, he's a senior in college, ready to take on the world with the love of his life by his side. And then Louis Tomlinson admits he doesn't know what he wants to do after college after all, and Harry's world flips again, this time not so pleasantly. He can't imagine his life without Louis, but he's starting to worry he might have to.

A college AU featuring lots of domestic sappiness, waffles, tattoos, late nights and early mornings, and above all, Louis and Harry against the world.

Been Together Since Way Back When by alivingfire / @alivingfire (95k)

Louis Tomlinson is a law student with a simple but effective four step plan: 1. Finish law school. 2. Get hired somewhere awesome. 3. Marry his best friend and boyfriend of two years, Harry. 4. Live happily ever after.

Harry Styles doesn't know what he wants to do with his life, where he wants to go, who he wants to be, or if he even wants the college degree he's almost completed. All he does know is who he’ll be with forever, as long as Louis wants to keep him around.

Or: the painfully realistic college au where everyone's poor, lovesick, tired of school, terrified of the future, and still having the greatest times of their lives.

Such Good Luck by casuallyhl / @casuallyhl (66k)

Louis smiles at Harry’s words, leaning into his touch. “Tell me again.”

Smiling, Harry takes Louis into his arms. Pressing gentle kisses to his face, Harry murmurs, “In six months’ time, I will have my twenty-fifth birthday. On that day, my portion of the inheritance will become legally mine. And I plan that very day to announce to my family that I have found love.” Harry chuckles as he runs his lips lightly along Louis’ cheekbone. “That, in fact, I found love when I was twenty-one years old, and that I have loved and been loved every day since.”

Or, an Edwardian AU where Harry is a young aristocratic lord and Louis is a working class dairy farmer. Secrets are a necessary part of their relationship, but Louis has one that could topple their whole world.

The Dark and the Dentist by sunshiner (66k)

“I know this song,” Louis whispers, and Harry has to lean his ear toward him to pick up what he’s saying. “It was written for people to dance to it. We should be dancing.”

We can’t, Harry almost spits, but it’d be stupid of him. Louis knows they can’t. Even if he looks like any regular Parisian in their twenties, and Harry looks like any hipster Parisian in their twenties, they can’t anyway. To be fair, they probably wouldn’t do it even if they were out. But if they were two uni students, both in Paris for an exchange, meeting over fallen books at the library, or because of mutual friends, or watching Monet’s Water Lilies?

“How would we dance?” Harry murmurs, mouth almost pressed to Louis’ cheek, so close he can feel his warmth. What a picture they must make, two millionaires freezing in a park and dreaming of a different life.

An account of the events of November 2014. Canon-compliant.

Time Passed by coffinofachimera (66k)

Louis struggles with their relationship as Harry grows into his identity.

Hands Clasped Tight by afirethatcannotdie / @afirethatcannotdie (47k)

“What am I looking at here?” Harry asks.

“This, my friends, is a ‘proof’ Instagram account, run by your students,” Liam announces.

“It’s got all this stuff about how the two of you are together,” Niall adds.

“I heard about that,” says one of the math teachers. “Confiscated a kid’s phone today when they were looking at it. I have to say, the evidence that you’re dating is pretty damning.”

“Really,” Louis says dryly. “Do you think being married for three years might have something to do with it?”

Or the one where Harry and Louis are high school teachers and their students have been playing matchmaker for over a year. Little do they know, Harry and Louis are already married.

The Best Kind of Bad by wildestdreams / @thelavendrhaze (40k)

Nobody really understood Harry and Louis. Not even Louis. But for Louis, the world began and ended with Harry, and there were certain things he just wasn’t capable of explaining.

or Louis is the town troublemaker and everyone hates him except for Harry.

You Watched Me Sink by bananasandboots / @anylessreal (38k)

They’ve discussed it a few times - the boyfriend thing. It’s not like it’s some forbidden, horrific, abandon hope all ye who talk about furthering the relationship sort of subject. They’re mature adults. They’re in tune with their feelings, their hearts’ desires, the way those butterflies swoop in their bellies whenever they so much as hold each other’s hands. They like each other. A lot. It’s mutual, they know. But for now, they’re just content to enjoy the simplicity of what they have, and what they have is great.

When dating in secret stops being enough, then they’ll discuss that too.

Or, the one where Harry teaches Sex Ed and sneaks around with the drama teacher, and doesn’t realize how out of tune he is with his true feelings until everyone else figures it out for him.

Part 1 of You Watched Me Sink Verse

Swallow My Words by YesIsAWorld / @louandhazaf (32k)

Senior year is stressful. On top of balancing school work, family, and friends, Harry's lacrosse team is vying to win the state championship, he's not sure where he's going to college yet, and he has a secret boyfriend that no one can know about.

Part 1 of Swallow My Words

Loved By Your Mother by superglass / @gaymoustache (31k)

Harry stretches out like Venus with her lover, growing sleepy in the late afternoon light with a baby growing inside her. Perhaps not literally, not physically. Not exactly.

or

Harry struggles to come to terms with wanting to have children, and what that means for their relationship. Canon compliant, set a few years into the future.

True Love’s Gold by alivingfire / @alivingfire (27k)

Gemma starts responding to every single one of Harry’s texts—regardless of subject—with i don’t care, talk to louis. Liam lets Harry complain to him for hours on Skype, pretending he’s not doing other things while Harry whines about his problems. Niall thinks the whole thing is hilarious, texting Harry links to articles titled So, you want your man to propose? and 15 ways to get him ready for the aisle! and follows each of these up with page upon page of laughing emojis. Harry tries everything, literally everything he can think of short of grabbing Louis by tattooed forearm and yelling, “PROPOSE TO ME BEFORE I COMBUST.”

Or, it takes a village to arrange a proposal, but that doesn’t mean it’s going to go as planned.

If You Asked Me If I Love Him (I'd Lie) by allyasavedtheday (26k)

So Harry and Louis might have fucked up.

The day of their wedding was the single most perfect moment of Louis’ life and every single day since where he’s been able to call Harry his husband has been nothing short of bliss. There’s just one teeny, tiny problem…

Their families don’t know they’re married.

*

Or the one where Harry and Louis eloped but neglected to mention it to anyone. Meanwhile Lottie is getting married and the only way for them to not steal her thunder is by pretending they're just friends for the weekend. Featuring Harry and Louis as terrible liars who don't know the meaning of the word platonic and some Tomlinsons and Styles's who definitely don't believe them.

Part 2 of A Long Way From The Playground

Being of the Jealous Kind by zita17 / @louisandtheaquarian (24k)

A-list actor Louis Tomlinson and his partner fashion photographer Harry Styles weather the storm that is Louis’ fake relationship with his costar in the lead up to this year’s Academy Awards.

Featuring a fluffy teenage meet-cute, an angsty wine drunk Harry melting down over pap pics, Louis habitually overusing the word “baby,” and cameos by a vintage Umbro sweatshirt, the peace ring, and one hell of a Larry hug.

Or the justice for To Be So Lonely fic. Based on the lyrics to TBSL and a prompt where “Louis has to fake date some celebrity, while his boyfriend Harry sits at home.”

You Turn Me On, Make You Radiate by ballsdeepinjesus (15k)

When he presses inside for the first time in weeks, he’s pretty sure he sees stars behind his eyes at the staggering sensation of Harry’s body squeezing every inch of him. When he bottoms out, he stays buried inside for a minute just to catch his bearings, listening as Harry takes sharp breaths beneath him. When he finally feels like he’s under control, he presses his lips against Harry’s ear and whispers, “Are you ready husband?“

Harry throws his head back and groans. “Call me your spouse.”

[…or, a self-indulgent snapshot of hl’s sex lives over the course of 10+ years]

Garden of Edenby superglass / @gaymoustache (6k)

Another soft, grainy laugh. A puff from the joint. Green smoke towards the ceiling. Then hazy blue eyes back on his. “Said you wanted to tell me something. Was really important.”

“Oh,” Harry says. There was a reason he came back, an excuse he made up to find Louis and sucker him into letting him sit on his lap even though his weight often puts those thighs to sleep. “Can’t— um. Let me try to remember.”

or

a snapshot of being high and in love in Jamaica.

I'll Breathe Your Air Into My Lungs by blizzies (5k)

five phases of their relationship in a world where harry smokes a lot and skips school and hates everyone except his boyfriend and louis is in plays and is loved by everyone and they work even though nobody gets how.

Mon Petit, Little One by publunchesownmyass (5k)

They smoke, talk shit about everyone besides each other, and Harry wears his Mon Petit sweater.

Brown Skin and Lemon Over Ice by penceypansy / @penceypansy (2k)

A short one shot of a reunion in Italy, around the time Harry filmed the Golden video.

- He should know with more certainty which one is their bedroom but he’s only been here twice, only once since their things had moved in, and come to think of it, he’s not sure this is the room they slept in last time.

Regardless, he’s got clothes he knows are his hanging in the wardrobe, sees his old Stone Roses shirt crumpled and worn on the unmade side of the bed. He drops his bag, rummages through the drawers for a pair of trunks, goes into the bathroom to change. It doesn’t feel like enough of a home yet for him to be totally comfortable, but that should change soon enough. He can’t help a spray of the cologne sat by the sink, vanilla and wood and comfort.

[londonhalcyon]

Another year later (two years after the initial prompt, oops), I finally finished the last of the Magizoology-specific one shots I had been planning, prompted by @dumpsterhipster and @a-more-delicious-happiness. Here is Part 2 of "In Hot Water," which picks up immediately where Part 1 left off.

As a bonus, here's two photos I took in the Green Swamp, the setting I based this whole ficlet on. Enjoy!

Left: sundew; Right: longleaf pine savanna

* * * *

In Hot Water - Part 2 (Lily)

We realized the sun was going down when the tree trunks adopted a gold halo, their bark darkening against the light. Taking that as a sign to go, I stood up to find the knees of my jeans wet from the damp ground—and that I had been kneeling on a patch of sundew. Tanner’s ribbing at my “involuntary plant-slaughter” (“They’re not dead!” I protested. “Just a little…flatter.”) only increased when I clumsily step-hopped back to the trail to avoid trampling several tiny red-mouthed Venus flytraps. I wasn’t completely successful. 

“You know,” he teased, “it’s generally a good idea not to step on the rare plants.”

I tripped over the air while I tried to hop away from another flytrap. “Maybe if the rare plants weren’t everywhere, I wouldn’t step on them.”

“Aaand this is why we stay on the trail.”

“You took me off the trail! Oh, shut up,” I added when he laughed. 

A red-headed woodpecker flitted overhead, followed by a second one soon after, their black and white wings a sharp contrast against the green and gold savanna. They flap-bounded from slender trunk to slender trunk, pausing for no more than a few seconds at a time before continuing on. Foraging for insects? Or on their way home for the evening?

Distracted, I had to catch myself before I could stumble off the narrow path again. Long grass brushed my fingertips. There were so many little things to look at my brain felt split multiple ways. For once, it wasn’t a bad feeling. I could linger in this quiet plant world for ages—let the softly buzzing spring air wash over me with all its earthiness and gentle humidity.

Tanner halted, an unintelligible burble preceding any coherent words. He pointed towards a thicker patch of brush thirty or so meters in front of us. 

I squinted, expecting another weird salamander or rare plant. “What?”

“I thought I saw a bobcat.”

I immediately refocused. “You’re sure?”

“Tan, furry, big. Could’ve been a coyote. Didn’t move like one though.”

We shut our mouths by unspoken agreement, not moving a muscle as we watched the brush patch. I had never seen a bobcat before, or a coyote, both being North American natives, and a little thrill ran through me at the thought. If there was any way to elevate an already awesome trip even more…

The brush rustled. Tanner had been right—tan fur moved amongst the tangled grass. Slunk, more accurately. The creature’s smooth, near-soundless steps were distinctly cat-like. When he had said “big,” though, I had assumed he had meant big as in relative to a squirrel. Not genuinely big. The cat must have stood a full meter tall at the shoulders, if not taller. Weren’t bobcats this far south supposed to be small? Because of the heat or something?

Those were strong shoulders too, rippling with muscle. As the creature prowled out of the grass, its long tail swished along the ground. 

“That’s not…” Tanner breathed. Not a bobcat. The lack of that particular feature was literally in the name. But there were no other big cats in the region, magical or otherwise. True to Magizoologist form, I had looked up the local large fauna before my flight. The only remaining possibility lived hours to the west, in the mountains. There was no way it could—

Six tawny legs padded out of the grass. Tanner averted his gaze with a restrained curse. A right genius, I stared dead into the wampus cat’s golden eyes. 

The mountain cracked around me. Cracked and then crumbled. Colossal yellow beasts with iron teeth tore through the trees, toppling great pines as easily as twigs. I ran and the earth gave chase. The mud came alive, clinging to my paws, rushing up along my belly, weighing on my pelt. Down the mountain we swept, heavy mud and heavy fur. A deer lay swollen and stiff on the creek bank, the water’s sheen sickeningly acrid on the tongue. 

Miles and days, rain and thirst, heat and hunger. Blinding lights roared in the dark, screaming their rage through an oily scar in the earth. They blasted their heat over my pelt, a warning left in mangled corpses tasting of bitter smoke. In the home that no longer was, thunder shook the mountain’s heart. When I looked back, there was no mountain at all. Only a gaping stone wound baring blunt teeth to a hazy sky. 

Images continued to flash, a cacophony of senses—noises, colors, scents, tastes, aches. Pain, sharp as a coyote’s maw snapped around my leg. Elation, rich as blood filled my mouth. Terror, cold as bark splintered in a burst meant for my heart. Satisfaction, soft as I stretched between the sunshine on my belly and the grass on my back. With each powerful step, each numbered breath, I was fiercely, agonizingly alive. How fragile it all was, a flame to be snuffed out with the slightest exhalation, a heart that could beat so hard it stopped. 

How fragile it all was before the two awkward creatures beneath the pines, their pelts smooth and colorful like bird feathers. Loud, clumsy creatures, too pathetic to hunt for themselves. Real birds fled in their crashing wake. The rodents stayed underground, knowing better than to poke their heads up to get trampled. Dangerous, untrustworthy creatures, smelling of acrid oil and bitter smoke. The prey would not return until long after they were gone. 

Golden eyes flared in shadows cast by dying light. Leave, clumsy pests. Shoo. 

The connection broke like an elastic band stretched too far—severed with a horrendous snap. I gasped with the shock of remembering I had lungs to breathe. My feet scrambled over the ground, not fully underneath me. Tanner’s arms were hooked under my armpits from behind, his hands twisted to grip my shoulders as I found my footing. A tawny blur slunk off into the bushes. 

“I’m okay!” I exclaimed. “I’m okay!”

Tanner kept a hand on my shoulder even after I stood upright. “What’s your name?”

“Lilianna Flores. But it didn’t—”

“Where are we right now? What’s today’s date?”

I shook him off, my head buzzing. “Did you see that?”

“Did I see what the hypnotism cat had to say?” he said, bemused. “No, I was a little distracted by all this.” He waved his hands at me. 

“Not hypnotism. Legilimency. Really really strong Legilimency. I saw us and…and…” I trailed off, at a loss. I could taste the blood in my mouth, still warm. Had that been before or after the end of the world?

“Did it tell you why it’s three hundred miles outside of its home range?”

A gaping stone wound, the heart of a mountain carved out. “Er, I don’t think it has a home range anymore.”

“That’s…not good.” Tanner rubbed his brow. “I’ll send a report to the Wildlife Commission when we get in. It shouldn’t be here.”

“Yeah.” Leave, clumsy pests. “Yeah, that’s probably for the best.”

“Are you good to Apparate? I’d rather not get caught in the dark with a wampus cat on the loose.”

“Right.” I offered him my arm. With a crack, we squeezed through time and space to reappear on a sandy roadside, the slender pines at our backs. A flock of sparrows flushed out over a small pond, whistling their alarm calls. I stared at the empty road, weirdly out of place after so long in the savanna. Back to the real world, I supposed. 

Once we were safely buckled in Tanner’s truck, he started laughing, bracing himself against the steering wheel as full guffaws rose from his belly. “Why is it that every time I go into the field with you, something weird happens?”

I grinned. “I have a way with cats.”

“And dragons. And who knows what else.”

“Remind me to show you the Creature Reserve if you’re ever across the pond.”

“I’ll be sure to take you up on that.”

He turned the key in the ignition, then flicked the headlights on as the engine shuddered to life. Blinding lights roaring in the dark. 

“Does it ever feel like a wasted effort?” I asked abruptly. “What we do? Because sometimes I feel like we’re just documenting the apocalypse.”

He snorted. “Every day. It’s exhausting. Though I don’t know about wasted. It would be a whole lot worse if we didn’t try, right?”

“I guess that’s right.”

“Besides, who else gets to see a boiling salamander and a six-legged cat in one day? Don’t tell me you’re getting tired of it already?”

“No,” I chuckled. “No, you’re right. Forget I said anything.”

The truck pulled out onto the road as golden hour began to fade. Amidst the aftertaste of oil and smoke, sunshine lingered in the grass. 

[msbigredmachine]

TARGETS - 33 - Armageddon

Roman Reigns is an agent in the secret organization The Authority and one of the world’s deadliest assassins. When he crosses paths with a mysterious woman during an assignment, he makes a life-changing decision that switches his role from the hunter to the hunted.  (AU Espionage Story)

TARGETS MASTERLIST

Thick, putrid black smoke clouded over the entire vicinity in record time thanks to the fast-burning whiskey, providing precious cover for Jasmine and Roman. Several of the agents zoomed in frantically for any sight of the two rogue agents, but it was difficult to see through the smoke and Lily's burning body. On closer inspection, they spotted Jasmine and Roman's jackets laying on the floor. Throwing caution to the wind, the fully armed team began to open fire.

Having ducked behind a Five Guys counter, Roman aimed at a man shooting at him and blew him backwards off his feet. Jasmine found her first target, Lotus, and swiftly put a bullet between her former colleague's eyes. As they ducked out of the restaurant, she managed to rid the dead woman of her grenade belt. From there, Jasmine and Roman smashed through the Dulux store, toppling over a large pyramid stack of paint cans and hiding behind a massive shelving unit to reload ammunition. Jasmine spotted the duffel bag full of money that Lily had given her. With a regrettable sigh, she tucked Lotus's grenade into the bag just as assassins swarmed the area. The grenade went off with a flash and a loud BANG, taking out the four nearest guys and spraying hundred dollar bills in the air like confetti.

Roman and Jasmine were now inside the shelving unit, crouch-running behind the paint cans as the shots rained in, spattering both of them with multiple colors of paint. Rolling out into the aisle across from them, Roman skidded across the floor on his back, firing continuously. Two Authority agents with rifles dropped to the ground, dead. Jasmine seized both of the rifles, tossing one to Roman before turning around and covering his back, shooting at multiple targets pouring into her own end of the aisle. Luckily, the aisles worked in their favor as they only had two directions to cover. With their backs to each other, the couple blasted their way through an oak wardrobe into another shelving unit where they fluidly reloaded their weapons, spinning into the next aisle simultaneously. The swap of directions was just as graceful as the couple covered opposite angles, their fingers on the trigger the whole time.

Assassins filed into each end of the aisle and realized too late that they had no cover of their own. Jasmine and Roman worked through them methodically, their weapons spewing hot lead and brass casings. They stayed observant, reacting to the smallest movements. Quickly realizing that they were at a disadvantage, the agents hung back, taking more caution. Jasmine and Roman seized on that little slip and refused to slow down their rhythm for a second – covering each other, reloading under shelves, crossing into aisle after aisle, covering each other again and again; working perfectly together.

They burst out of the shelving units and into a showroom. They glided through mock-ups of living rooms, kitchens, stalking through studies and immaculate bedrooms like a maze. Rounding corner after corner, they intercepted Agents that fired at them from their vantage points. Still, they came pouring in. It almost seemed as though all of the Authority and F.L.O.R.A. had gathered at this shopping mall. Jasmine and Roman's progress was slowed by the antique furniture, each one blown to pieces by bullets, the fragments cutting into their skin. The shoot-out was relentless, and it wasn't long before they were running out of ammunition. Two Agents advanced towards the blonde woman from the left. Roman went low, grabbing a cable wire from the ground and whipped it out, sweeping the Agents off their feet. As they fell, he snatched their AR-15s in midair and tossed the reinforcements to Jasmine. 

He suddenly grunted with pain when a bullet tore through his right leg. He stumbled to the ground, and Jasmine went down with him. 

"Roman!"

"Fuck!" he shouted, clutching his leg. Jasmine grabbed his arm and pulled him with her. "Come on." Together, they hit the deck and started military-crawling through numerous beds in rows. Jasmine popped up from behind one bed and took out a shooter emerging from a nearby wardrobe. As another came in full speed towards their direction, Roman popped up and blew his head away. Jasmine looked behind her to find no less than five agents coming into the section after them on both sides. They couldn't take these guys out without splitting up. She looked at Roman. "Can you manage?"

He nodded, his thoughts in sync with hers. With a quick count to three, the two separated, stalking through the beds, popping up and taking agents out, and despite his injury, Roman proved too quick for the agents. More shooters spilled in. Jasmine knew they couldn't hold out for much longer. She shot and weaved her way back to her boyfriend’s location. "We've got to get into the warehouse!" she said, "It's through that door over here."

"Go ahead of me," Roman said, limping towards her. "I'm only going to slow you down."

Jasmine eyed him like he was crazy. "I'm not leaving you," she hissed. She wound his huge arm around her shoulder, locked her own arm around his waist and guided him towards the door. With his free hand, Roman shot at the agents coming to his left. Just as they neared the door to the warehouse, there was a rapid beeping sound from behind them. Roman glanced down at the C4 blinking on the ground, and his eyes widened. "Jasmine! Look out-"

The explosion knocked them both off their feet.

---------------------------

Leona jumped backwards out of Hunter's reach just as he slashed at her with the knife, nearly missing her stomach. She slid away from him, grabbed another knife and aimed for his face, once, twice. He blocked her arm the third time, and with lightning speed, he dodged the other arm she swung at him. Grabbing her by the hair, he drove her face right into the refrigerator, denting the surface. Yanking her back just as viciously, he smashed the heel of his palm into her face and swung her bodily into the kitchen drawers. Knocking back-first into an open one, Leona collapsed like a rag doll, her flailing arm dragging the drawer and all its contents to the ground with her.

Straightening himself up, Hunter wiped the blood in his mouth with the back of his hand. His necktie was gone, his shirt was torn and stained with his blood and hers. He stood over Leona's prone body, his eyes wild and a maniacal grin on his face. Leona remained still on the ground, but her mind was moving, thinking. Out of Hunter's sight, a rolling pin had fallen to the ground. With her arm outstretched, her fingertips closed around it. Above her, Hunter raised his leg, about to deliver the death blow with a slam of his boot onto her face.

With one last burst of adrenaline, Leona swung the rolling pin. The utensil connected viciously with Hunter's other shin, the bone shattering with a loud, ugly CRACK. Hunter screamed in sheer agony and fell to the floor. But Leona let no move go to waste. Pushing herself to her knees, she seized the knife she'd dropped on the floor, straddled Hunter and drove it through the middle of his throat and back out in one brutal thrust, his blood splattering all over her face.

Hunter's eyes popped wide with anger and surprise, eyeing her as though unable to believe she had the balls to finish him off. His mouth moved, attempting to speak, but only a gurgling sound emanated, along with a gush of blood from his lips, the thick red blotches splashing against his paling skin. Leona watched the light in his eyes dim, allowed herself the pleasure of watching the body of the great Hunter Helmsley jerk and tremble before it finally stilled.

Breathing hard, Leona let the knife clatter to the floor and pushed herself away from the body. Suddenly, she let out a loud cry, and collapsed back to the floor and landed awkwardly on her butt, grimacing from two different sources of pain. The adrenaline was quickly wearing off, and the agony that was spreading through her was indescribable. One look down at herself detected the cause of her agony.

Sometime during the fight, she had been stabbed. Blood poured freely from the right side of her abdomen, soaking her shirt and seeping through her hand as she attempted to stem the blood flow. When Hunter drove the knife into her, she had ignored it, kept fighting, her thirst for vengeance overshadowing every other emotion and rational thought she owned. Taking in a ragged breath of dread, she slowly lifted up her t-shirt and winced at what she saw. The wound was deep, much too deep, and Leona knew that her chances of survival were very slim indeed.

With what little strength she had left, she crawled towards the gas stove. Pulling it from its place against the wall, she yanked out the gas hose that was connected to the back of the appliance and immediately, gas came gushing out in a loud hissing sound, filling the entire kitchen with the putrid smell of carbon monoxide. Her body grew weaker with each movement she made, her breaths shorter and more ragged. She wasn't going to last long. Leona propped her back up against the wall, looking over at Hunter's prone, lifeless body. She lit a match and stared at the little stick with warped fascination. She didn't want her body to be found. If she was going to disappear for good, this was the only way it was going to happen.

A serene, content smile spread across her wounded face. She was dying, but everything felt better than it was supposed to be. She had avenged Dwayne, just like she had promised all that time ago. It was all she ever wanted for three years and now she'd done it. Now he would rest easy, and so would she.

I'll see you soon, my love.

And with that, the former Director of The Authority extended her arm, holding the match to the gas pipe. The explosion that followed consumed the entire house in a gargantuan ball of fire.

---------------------

Roman collapsed behind the massive wooden crate, taking in big gulps of air. "Shit..." he gasped. His leg throbbed painfully and he was exhausted. His hair was matted to his face by sweat and blood. Leaning back, he turned his head to see Jasmine sitting next to him, looking as bruised and beat up as he was. "You good?" he asked.

Her reponse was a breathless nod. "Yeah," she breathed, glancing down at his leg. "Jesus."

"Yep. First my shoulder, now my damn leg. I guess I make a great target practice," he quipped, a small, pained chuckle escaping his lips.

With a grunt, Jasmine lifted her shirt, spotting the bullet lodged in her bulletproof vest, where her heart was meant to be. She could sense the dilemma they were in as well. They had barely avoided catastrophe with the explosion. Barely. They could hear pounding through the door of the warehouse as the surviving assassins tried to break it down. They had done all they could, but as expected, the numbers were starting to weigh much too heavily on them.

Looking up, she met Roman's eyes, her heart sinking because she knew what he was about to say. "No," she immediately said, shaking her head. "No! Don't say it!"

"Jasmine, you have to get outta here.” Roman knew that she could still escape, that she could still save herself. She had to. "I’m only gonna slow you down. You can make it outta here and head to Jamaica-"

"I told your punk ass, don’t gimme that bullshit!" she cut him off sternly, "I said what I said; I ain’t goin’ nowhere without you." Her gaze bored into his own. "It’s you and me, okay? Ain’t nowhere I'd rather be than right here, with you, Roman. As long as I'm by your side, I don't give a damn if I don't make it.”

“Baby, please,” he pleaded, “I promised Rose you would make it out of this alive.”

“And guess what? I will make it out alive. And so will you,” she continued, her lip trembling even when she didn't want it to. “We’ve come this far, and we owe it to each other to make it. I owe Leona. I still have the debit card right here. We’ll head out to Jamaica. We’ll find a cute little house by the beach, we’ll go fishing and yachting, I’ll learn how to make good ackee and codfish, and damn it, you’re gonna fuck me senseless and make sweet love to me every single day, on every single surface imaginable when we’re there. Do you understand me, Reigns?”

Her jaw was locked and her expression was full of resolve, and he realized she meant every word. Even in the chaos and on the brink of doom, he had never been more in love with her than in that moment.

“God, you so fuckin’ sexy, babe,” he smirked, “Come here.”

Pulling her to him, he seized her mouth in an intense, desperate kiss. Jasmine reciprocated with equal intensity, both very much aware that despite her rallying cry, this would probably be the last time they would ever get to share such an intimate moment. Right now, the destruction around them didn't matter. Right now, all they saw, all that mattered, was each other.

"I love you, Roman Reigns," Jasmine whispered, kissing him one more time. "I love you until my last breath. I will love you even more after that." 

"I love you too, Jasmine. I’ll still love you long after I’m gone," he answered, reluctantly pulling away to cock his AK-47. "So, how we gonna do this shit?"

Jasmine did the same with her own AR-15. "Aim and fire." Being outnumbered didn't change anything. They had vowed to take as many people as possible down with them, and they would, if it was the last thing they ever did.

"You ready?" he asked her. The door to the warehouse was caving in. They could hear the metal bending, succumbing to the pressure.

Taking one final deep breath, she nodded. "Yeah. I'm ready."

"On my signal." There was the most intense expression on his face. "See you in the next life, Jasmine."

Jasmine returned the look. "Likewise, Roman."

The door to the warehouse burst open. A few tense, timed seconds passed before the Samoan gave his lover and partner a quick but firm nod. Together, they leapt out from each side of the wooden crate, trained their weapons on their adversaries, and opened fire.

---------------

One final chapter left. This story has taken so long to finish, lol.

Thoughts?

Credit to the owners of the gifs.

[gingersnap1620]

Make a Memory

Dean Winchester x F!Oc

Summary: Dean and Sam get their asses kicked by a witch whose big green eyes Dean can't get out of his head.

Warnings: Canon typical violence

Word Count: 1.1k

Songs:

(You Want To) Make A Memory

Evil Woman

A/N: This is my first fic! This is the first part, and I hope you guys enjoy! My sister @gingernut1314 beta read this for me. Go check her out!

Prologue

Lillian 

~Year is 1676 in Scotland~

“You can't just leave us here Lily!”

When I decided to join the coven I had no idea of their plans. If I did then I wouldn't have joined and I wouldn't be in this situation. Leaving Scotland and my siblings behind for America. I feel like my mother, leaving them behind like this. My mother, Rowena, is a very powerful witch, so I guess that gave her the right to leave her seven kids behind.

“I don't have a choice, Fergus. You know what they're trying to make me do! Leaving is the only way to keep all of you and the world safe.” At this point, I'm just throwing the things I need in the only travel bag we own. It's big and brown and basically fallen apart. 

“I knew you would end up being exactly like her,” Fergus says, turning his back on me and walking away. Let's get one thing straight, I am nothing like my mother. She's a cruel, selfish woman. If I have to blame anyone for this I would blame her. She's the reason I have these powers in the first place. 

After I got everything I needed in my bag, I went around and said goodbye to the rest of my siblings. 

I didn't exactly have a ticket to get on the boat, but that wasn't going to stop me. I need to get on that boat. So carrying my bag on my shoulder I snuck my way onto the boat and down to the storage rooms to hide. 

As the ship started sailing off I looked out a small circle-shaped window and saw my home get further and further away. Saying that I'm scared would be an understatement, I've never been farther than the city. 

I'm going to stop those witches. I won't let them go through with their plan even if it's the last thing I do.

Dean

~338 years later in America~

Sam and I thought that this would be an in-and-out kind of vamp job, and it was until we walked past this door. 

“What are they talking about?” I whispered to Sam as the girl in the room paced back and forth with her hand on her hip. She has curly red hair and big green eyes. “This chick kinda looks like Rowena,” I whispered to Sam. 

“I know I was just thinking that.” 

“Hopefully she's not a witch like her,” I said that as a joke, but of course right as I say it the door flings open and we get shoved which leads to us toppling onto the floor. Before I could get up the woman squats down right next to me yanking the back of my hair to make me look up at her. Her green eyes pierced into my soul. 

“Who do we have here, shall we find out?” She asked the man who hadn't moved from his spot behind his desk since we came in.

“How about not.” I spit out.

Wrong move. 

She pressed her fingers on my head. The last thing I remember seeing before I blacked out was her eyes glowed with green light. 

“Well, well, well. If it isn't Dean Winchester.” She leaves me lying on the floor as she stands up. 

What the hell just happened? How does she know my name?

“So, that must mean that you're Sam Winchester.” She said, pointing at Sam.

“What the hell did you just do to me bitch?” She walks to the man behind the desk giving Sam and I time to get up. 

I've said it before and I'll say it again I fucking hate witches. 

“Nothing, I just looked into your head, jeez stop being dramatic.” She said, with a dismissive hand.

Oh, I'm being dramatic now! I don't think so! 

I pulled my gun out and pulled the trigger, shooting her right in her stomach. She snapped her head down to find blood oozing from her shirt, a shocked look on her face. Her green eyes snapped back at me, rage burning in her eyes. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me! I just got this shirt!” She flung my gun across the room as Sam pulled his gun out and shot her again, this time right in the middle of her chest. She looked down at the bullet hole, rolled her eyes, and flung Sam across the room. I watched him hit the wall and pass out.

“Sam!” 

“He’ll be fine.” The man behind the desk decides to pitch in. I forgot he was even in the room. Apparently, so did the red-haired witch because she looked surprised when he talked. 

“Oh! I thought I already took care of you, I guess not.” And with one sharp flick of her hand, the man's head fell off.  “Don’t worry he wasn't human.” She says as she walks around his desk to pick his head up and show me his fangs. 

“A vamp? What do you get out of killing a vamp?” 

“Oh nothing, he just wasn’t helping me out with my problem.”

“Problem?” I guess I asked too many questions because just as it left my lips she flung me into the wall, pinning me there. 

“I realize I haven’t fully introduced myself, my name is Lillian.” She was walking over to me. “I don't want to hurt you two, you're just giving me no choice” 

“You know it doesn’t really feel like that.” She stopped in front of me, placing her hand gently on my shoulder. Her eyes started to light up a dark green color. She must be pretty powerful. 

Great. 

“I'm sorry that I made you feel that way.” Her hand started traveling down my chest, where her other hand joined beside it. 

I closed my eyes tight, prepping for what was about to come. 

I felt her hands leave my body suddenly. My eyes flew open and I found Sam slapping a pair of silver cuffs on her. 

“Fucking Winchesters.” She spit out as we put her in the back of the impala. 

“Are you sure you don’t just want to kill her Dean?” Sam asked after he shut the door on her. I walked around the back of the car to get to the driver's side.

“Something about her just makes me think that she's important. I don’t know man.” Sam glanced back down at her through the window and opened his door.

“Alright, I trust you, but let's go, my head is still throbbing.” He then sat down in the car and closed the door. I opened my door and did the same. 

I flipped the radio on and “Evil Women” by Electric Light Orchestra blasted through the speakers. A smirk pulled at my lips as I bobbed my head to the beat. As I turned to look at the witch I noticed Sam shaking his head at me. 

“I hope you have good taste in music” 

“I have exquisite taste in music, but this is utter garbage” I shrugged in return, placing my hands on the steering wheel and whipped out of that place.

[nozomijoestar]

I've had Asulili feels so much over the past week and your insight has helped with that. It's such a shame its not a very popular ship or otherwise is outright hated on, I really hope T9 makes there relationship so much softer. I don't know how likely this is but I'd love to see Asuka become the MC finally and Reina become her arch rival, while Lili actually becomes her girlfriend, maybe after Asuka defeats Reina Lili runs up to her and gives her a hug. I wish. :(

Asuka's main motivation has always been wanting to be left to what's "normal" for her. She had a life she was fine with until Feng started a chain reaction leading to events that directly or indirectly pull her into problems far beyond the scope of anything she's used to or can control.

The only solution she knows best is fighting everyone and everything that wants to take away her sense of "right" and "normal" if not to topple the thing then to numb herself from stressful emotions as a result of being out of control. Every Tekken game has had Asuka start from a place of trying to fit into her normal routine again, then something disturbs that in a way she can't ignore so it angers her and she fights to release that anger, then by the end of the game she's back to her "normal". (EDIT: 2/13/2024 - 8 is the FIRST time we ever meet Asuka already in motion to be involved with what's happening, not starting from stasis at home, which I choose to believe is part of the game's tagline to accept and face one's fate, where we started with her this time showed a change in her behavior toward accepting parts of her circumstances; an attitude further found in her character ending)

She can't just be left alone because her bloodline catches up with her, or because her love of violence means she's always going to take the route that lets her indulge. Even the one person who's interested in her is the same way and herself tied to the Mishima chain of tragedy as Asuka is, but with an awareness of it Asuka doesn't care for because she wants to be left in her own world.

I highly doubt Asuka would be the protagonist of 9; though I am open to it as a possibility. If it were done though then you have to first see this pattern in Asuka's behavior to start theorizing on the execution and intentions of "hero" Asuka. Asuka isn't a hero to me (like Jin she's an antihero), she's a hero to herself, but that's because she thinks beating up anyone who angers her and who's also perceived as a menace at the same time is just. That because someone is bad in some way or doing a bad or inconveniencing thing means that's enough to assault them on your own judgement even if it'll cause further collateral.

Even people around her don't believe this hero narrative since in her 5 prologue she's described as "a nosy kid solving other people's problems by knockout" from the general public's perspective. If there weren't any clear "targets" or rather people society would allow to be hurt because it doesn't extend the same kindness and humanity towards them, then Asuka's violent nature would make her just as much a thug as the ones she beats. I have argued before that in a sense, she already is.

8 circumvented this principle but only because it directed this mindset Asuka has toward a legitimate ultimatum: kill and fight whatever gets in your side's way or everyone dies.

Reina wouldn't bother with Asuka as a rival in my opinion. Rival implies there's a mutual, comparable baseline in skill and recognition of each other. It means a level of seeing someone as capable of being close to you and you to them were it not for a gap, considerations you wouldn't give to an 'enemy', and Reina has zero interest in that. Everyone is beneath her and is only mildly acceptable if they have something she can use for herself, much like Heihachi. Then they're discarded. If Reina were to acknowledge her in any way it's purely as an obstacle or nuisance to overcome and eliminate. They can absolutely clash, but from Reina's side I see nothing personal about it at all beyond "Don't get in my way, thing."

Basically, if we get 9 protagonist Asuka it (if it was well written) would come with several caveats and deviations from what "good" looks like. Like Jin, Asuka would have to accept the full spectrum of herself including the bad, and want to use her family history and powers if not for the world then for those she cares about, and for the thrill of fully realizing her violent potential. But instead of going wild with that violent side she learns how to leash it how to redirect it to genuinely protect and as a second resort rather than a first. She would loosely embrace what Jun is but with a twist in that Asuka is more self serving despite still being a decent person. She'll still help people just because they're hurt (see her 5 ending) but that alone doesn't make a good person or goody two shoes.

Asuka v Reina would be on the surface a clash of ideas and a clash of good against evil, but the reality of it is the hero just wants people to stop fucking dragging her into their bullshit so she can go home and stay home. Yet at the same time, this is one of the best fights she's ever had and it's the time of her life to enjoy it. The world is only worth anything if it gives her spaces she understands and people she can understand. That's why her 8 ending was so surprisingly wonderful to me. She got both, she got some kind of peace (including Lili being accepted in her worldview) but without giving up her drive to fight. She's safe and hopeful without sacrificing who she is.

This is also why AsuLili is compelling. They are narrative foils. Lili is Asuka's dark mirror. Every negative trait and urge Asuka acts oblivious to using her heroic naivety is instead something Lili openly displays about herself. Part of what separates them is Lili's desperate desire for connection, to be important and useful to someone. While instead Asuka is ok with being isolated to who and what she knows. You have to force her out her comfort zone, where Lili chases what would comfort Lili instead.

Vulnerability between them is definitely hard won because they refuse to give it freely to anyone. The Asuka 8 ending or Sebastian's TT2 ending, Lili chastising Sebastian for the silliness of what she's doing in her TT2 ending, or even parts of Feng's TT2 ending are the closest glimpses you get to seeing that guard down. I'd count what Lili said to Lars in 6 too, she complains very loudly about not being able to see Asuka then tries playing it off with "Well such is life." before literally showing up to see Asuka in Osaka in their endings. It's in a lot of the unspoken, in a lot of expressions and in the eyes as much as the actions.

All this to say Reina vs Asuka would be a jumping because Lili would make herself involved, probably get hurt either physically or mentally or with some transformation (DEVIL LILI CAN STILL WIN TO BE CLEANSED BY ASUKA AS A METAPHOR FOR ACCEPTING LOVE CAMPAIGN + KAZJUN PARALLELS) etc. which is a turning point for Asuka to save her in some way which includes beating Reina. And if they hugged by the end that's because they broke the eight million silent emotional walls between them.

And to promote the intellectual agenda here's first novella I wrote about AsuLili I'm working on the second it's halfway finished

As a side AsuLili being hated (and mind you they don't have to be liked lmao absolutely not, though I will tend to look at someone a way if they don't because usually they tend to also hate kids in general for being kids) 9/10 times is genuinely from homophobia, misogyny, lack of media literacy, and pedophiles who will scream and shit at the thought that they come as a duo therefore must be incapable of anything else, while then jacking off to them separately (and I know Asuka is 18 now in 8 but that's barely legal and these are grown ass adults way outta that ballpark to be playing with themselves over it). I'm sorry to say.

[aviculor]

When you think about it, has the Thriller Bark formula happened any other time? Crocodile being a Shichibukai was incidental to him being the leader of Baroque Works and we didn't even have a grasp of what it meant at the time. Luffy was blasted to Amazon Lily where he ran afoul of Boa Hancock, which is close, but she wasn't someone Luffy actually had to defeat. The Pirate Alliance picked a fight with Doflamingo as part of Law's plan to topple Kaidou, but I guess it was kind of similar. Kuma only pretended to be an enemy, while Jinbei was an ally from the start. Mihawk is still just kind of there and by now the moment has passed anyway. It's like, Gecko Moria was the only time the Strawhats fell into the trap of a Shichibukai and had to fight for their lives against him and his legion of subordinates on his home turf. That is like the platonic ideal of a One Piece adventure.

Thriller Bark happened at basically the sweet spot of the story. The perfect balance of our level of knowledge about the world's machinations, the enemy's level of threat, and the Strawhat Pirates' level of strength. It couldn't happen now, the crew is too strong for there to be any real peril. Luffy would just instakill all the zombies on the island with one burst of conqueror's haki, which would incapacitate all of Moria's allies at the same time. Moria himself wouldn't be able to endure very many haki-infused strikes. In fact, if you're one of the fans who isn't that big on haki, this is the last arc before it was introduced. Before Sabaody, it was just that Shanks had a really intimidating glare.

Gecko Moria was right on the line between "some guy" and "genuine danger", he was the last stepping stone pirate before the absolute monsters waiting ahead in the New World. After all, if Mr. Zombie Apocalypse was too small of a fish for that pond, then what chance did Luffy have out there? Moria was basically a red flag that the Strawhats needed to get a lot stronger if they wanted to succeed where he devastatingly failed. Because for all the trouble he caused the protagonists, that wasn't even him at his peak. He was a traumatized shell of his former self who was out of practice and out of shape, which showed as soon as he had to fight in the Paramount War. Absalom's only use in a fight was his parlor trick of invisible weapons, Hogback was a complete non-combatant, and Perona was...shall we say...an Usopp opponent. In fact, current Usopp could probably solo Thriller Bark Luigi's Mansion style. But he couldn't back then, none of them could, and that's why it was enjoyable to watch.

[wil-is-done]

Cocoon

Summary: At some point, Coraline realized she’s awake. And no one else was.

Word Count: 942

-

IMPORTANT NOTE: This is a repost.

At some point, Coraline realized she’s awake. It was a gentle awakening. No grating beeps to interrupt something bizarrely pleasant, no terrible monster to launch her back into reality. Just a sudden realization that she’s no longer sleeping for no good reason.

Her eyes were still closed. Static buzzed faintly from somewhere in front of her. She’s warm, and comfy, and wrapped in something thick and soft. Something’s pressing against her to her left, pinning her left arm to her side, and a different thing has wrapped around her right arm on her lap, holding it in place. It didn’t make sense to panic, didn’t feel right somehow, but the sensation reminded her of being restrained, of being helpless, alone, weak, useless, and it opened a big enough pit in her stomach that she opened her eyes.

It’s dark, until her eyes adjusted. Static’s coming from the tv - cheap, old, and miraculously still functioning - casting a dim glow over her and the rest of the room. She’s in the center of a large, fading yellow, slightly musky, very familiar recliner. The recliner that should be thrown out by now but nobody’s heartless enough to do it.

The thing to her left pinning her arm was Wybie. He’s sleeping soundly, leaning bodily against Coraline, lips parted like he’s a snorer, but he’s not. The other thing holding her right arm was Lili. She’s sleeping too, her head laid across Coraline’s lap, her hands wrapped possessively around Coraline’s arm, cuddling with it like it’s her personal teddy bear. It’s goddamn cute. They both were. And then there was Raz. Sleeping too - sleeping real good, in fact - but you wouldn’t think so, because the little monkey’s somehow balanced himself on the recliner’s right arm, as if he hasn’t already proven himself to be one of the best acrobats in the world. Showoff. 

There were four shapes at the base of the recliner too - not actually on it but still leaning against it. Two with identical brown hair, one with curly red, and one with pointy ash-black, like the hair’s a spike trap or a drawer full of forks. Fork hair’s in the middle, flanked on each side by the brown hairs, while curly’s lying against her left leg, buried under the biggest, ugliest, comfiest, warmest Christmas sweater you’ll ever see. 

And then it all came back to her.

Winter break. She and the rest of the MK somehow managed to convince their parents to spend one weekend in Gravity Falls. Soos was all too happy to let them bunk in the Shack. Raz got his tongue stuck on the totem pole. Disgusting, delicious pizza for dinner. Neil dared himself to stuff twenty marshmallows in his mouth. Someone brought out a Monopoly set. Mabel almost killed Wybie. They picked straws on who got to choose what to watch for movie night and goddamn Dipper pulled the short straw. Made them watch some ‘intellectual’ nonsense that she and the rest had a grand old time roasting while the little twerp sat there fuming. Guess the movie outlasted them in the end, and no one bothered to get up before passing out.

Coraline smiled. Good thing no one did. It’s nice. It’s more than nice. It’s more than what words could describe. If Coraline’s feeling particularly sappy, and she was, then she’ll say she could stay like this forever.

But she knew she’ll regret it in the morning if she let Wybie sleep on her arm and Neil on her leg all night. So she slid her left arm out from between her and Wybie and wrapped it around his shoulder to pull him in closer. Close enough that the matted ends of his hair tickled his left cheek. Then she wiggled her left leg free from behind Neil. The little bundle of fabric and love toppled over to one of the twins. Someone mumbled an incoherent phrase and stirred.

“Sorry,” Coraline whispered.

“Coraline?” A voice asked. Norman’s. Not surprising. He’s always been a light sleeper.

“Hey. Don’t mind me. Go back to sleep.” 

Norman grunted. Adjusted how he’s leaning against the recliner a bit. Coraline surprised herself by how much she wished he didn’t just mess everything up. “What time is it?”

“Don’t know.” And frankly, don’t care. 

“Shouldn’t we move to our rooms?” Honestly, they should. Soos put a lot of work preparing those rooms.

But still, Coraline giggled. No offense to Soos. “And ruin this?”  

Norman must’ve thought no one saw him, but Coraline did. That cheeky little glance to the twin on his right. So that one’s obviously Dipper. 

If only Norman could see the smirk on Coraline’s face. “Come on. You’re comfy enough.”

“Yeah,” Norman agreed after a moment of silence. He leaned back against the recliner, relaxing the best he could in his position, a sneaky arm winding around Dipper to pull him just an inch closer. “Good night, Coraline.”

“Smooth,” Coraline said, and greatly enjoyed how hard Norman tried not to crumple in embarrassment. “Night.”

Not that she’s in any position to make fun of Norman for taking advantage of the situation. She’s perfectly aware of how hypocritical she’s being, as she pulled Wybie in just a tad bit closer. Only difference was nobody’s watching her. That’s Norman’s mistake. 

With her lips curled into a small smile, Coraline laid her head back, closed her eyes, and not very long after, returned to sleep, wrapped in a cocoon of warm bodies, of friendship and love, of bonds that has been tested by fire and emerged on the other side stronger, tighter, unbreakable. A cocoon to chase all the monsters and nightmares away.

-

The MK crew held a private Secret Santa event just between us crewmembers, and this is what I made! Would have made it longer, maybe added some extra details, but I ended up not having as much time as I thought to work on it. Hope y’all can still enjoy it. It’s just a short and fluffy thing to end the year on.

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Skin & Scale (Part 14)

Trying to move Azula is no easy feat. In fact it is impossible unless they can convince her to do it herself. She isn’t a particularly large dragon but she is about the size of a camelephant. Sokka would guess that, that would put her at somewhere around eleven feet tall. Perhaps a bit more. They have gotten her to stand up, but she has been doing that on and off so this is no accomplishment.

“Come on Azula, please go now. The longer you wait, the more people will wake up and then you’ll have a bigger risk of crushing someone.” Sokka pleads. 

“Your parents can’t come back here, there’s no room.” Katara adds.

One baby dragon can fit comfortably enough in the palace garden but two fully grown dragons and a baby? 

Azula’s holds her body rigidly in place. 

“This isn’t like you.” He calls. “Since when do you let fear stop you from doing activities?” Since when does she let fear cloud rational. He is beginning to wonder if the transformation had a little bit more of human Azula than he had anticipated. Fourteen year old Azula never hesitates. But a baby dragon? Of course a baby dragon is anxious. “Katara, what if she’s…?”

Katara shakes her head. “That’s still Azula in there.” It has to be. The words are unspoken but he knows that tone well enough.

That’s just the thing; it doesn’t have to be. Ran and Shaw wanted their child, they will have her. And maybe it is better if there is no trace of human Azula in there. It would make things much less complicated. There won’t be any hesitance to leave the palace that way. She wouldn’t have any reason not to go with them, no reluctances nor skepticism. 

That part of her, the one that had been hesitant to show them the scales creeping up her arm, won’t be around to keep her from second guessing going with Ran and Shaw. 

Azula seems to inspect the world below her before lifting a very reluctant claw and agonizingly slowly stepping it over the garden wall. She pulls it back in and it is then that Sokka understands her predicament. All at once he is confident that the Azula they know is still very much present. Present and well aware of the layout of her home. 

Beyond the garden wall is a larger, newly constructed, fortifying inner wall. When that is just small enough to keep her sandwiched between the garden wall and itself and just large enough for her to not be able to step over. 

Beyond the wall, if he recalls correctly, is just an empty expanse–the stony remains of a dormant volcanic crater with maybe a sprinkle of small trees and fire lilies here and there. And beyond that is the outermost fortification. But there is plenty of space for a dragon or three within that space. 

Azula tests her weight against the wall and utters a displeased grumble. She sulks back into the garden.

“Just climb it.” Sokka sighs.

She shakes her dragon head. 

“Stop being so stubborn.”

Azula pinches a rock between two of her clawed fingers and rests it upon a larger rock. She knocks it over with a flick of her finger. He watches the stone tumble down. 

“Yeah, I know.” He frowns. “Just topple it. You did bust a hole through the actual palace wall, this is much less destructive. Zuko can commission someone to build a dragon door out of the hole you create.” He pauses. “And if you’re worried about security, that main fortification has kept people out for how long now?”

Looking reasonably displeased Azula seems to regard the wall again. 

“Maybe if you’re lucky the wall will support you, afterall?” Katara tries with a smile. 

Sokka hadn’t tested the structural stability of that wall for himself but even he knows that, that isn’t true. He has seen lion-mooses smaller than her put some respectable cracks in their zoon enclosures. And those enclosures were fully constructed. This wall still has some final touches that it needs.

But Azula doesn’t particularly have many better options. Another would be to fly over it but she doesn’t know how to use her wings and even if she did, they still don’t look as if they have had the necessary exercise and tonging to support her weight yet. Really, they are about as good as penguin wings right now. They are good for perhaps a few smaller, tester flaps. 

He also doesn’t think that she has enough room to spread them out, not when she has had no practice with them. 

Azula stretches to her full height and attempts to climb over the wall, for a fleeting moment, he thinks that she might make it with no evidence of her action. She is a little more than half over the wall when he hears the cracking. He sees them forming from the middle outward. And the stonework explodes beneath her. Sokka throws himself on top of Katara–she cries out–and slings his arms over his head as some sizable rocks fling past.  He hears them pelt the palace and splash into the garden’s pond. 

He hears the last of the rocks skitter to their final resting points and he rises. Wincing, he brushes his pants off. Pants that now have two twin holes. His knees and elbows sting. It has been a good while since he has had scrapes on either of them. 

Swallowing he takes a step towards the crumbled wall. 

“Sokka, let me heal…”

“Let me check on Azula first.” 

Katara nods. 

Azula lays in a heap of rubble and dust. A rusty cloud that billows away from her. Her claws twitch.

“Azula!” He calls.

Slowly, stiffly. She raises her head. Large chunks of the wall clamor off of her body and to the ground when she stirs.  Her head seems to sway–a little unsteady, dazed. She blinks a few times and looks back.

Other than the scars that had transferred over from her human body, her dragon form seems to be entirely unscathed. But she looks terribly sad. Ashamed.

“It’s alright, Azula.” Katara mumbles. “You’re still getting used to being a dragon. We shouldn’t have talked you into moving before you were ready.”

But what was the alternative? Waiting around for weeks to have that wall torn carefully down? Hiring a team of many burly earthbenders and Toph to raise the ground she stood on and carry it over the wall? Honestly, he thinks that the best idea would have been to just suggest that she punch the wall on purpose again, it worked out fine enough the first time. 

Hindsight…

.oOo.

Azula curls herself up just a few feet from the wreckage. It now has a crowd of several very distraught palace servants. They are probably more sick of her now than they had been when she was banishing everyone. At least then they were able to take their leave and be done with the stress.

Zuzu is going to be displeased. If father were here he would be having a nice set of golden, gilded manacles crafted in just her size. He’d have her chained and shackled where she lays. She shudders. 

She should have been more careful. 

She should have taken the time to think it over more, the time to figure out which portion of the wall could best support her weight... 

Katara assures her that it isn’t a big deal.

But it is. 

Very much so.

Now that she has knocked over both this wall and one of the palace walls, intruders and assassins can have a much easier time breaching the palace and wreaking havoc and it is her fault. It will be on her carelessness and incompetence. On her clumsiness. 

She coils her tail around her body and rests her head beneath it.

“It’s not your fault.” Katara insists again. 

Azula exhales. 

She doesn’t lift her head. 

Not when she feels Sokka’s hand rubbing her snout and not when the two large shadows fall over her.

[kay-elle-cee]

9 and 18! 😘😘

Hey Anna! Thanks for these!

9. Do you prefer to write AUs, canon divergence, or canon-compliant fic? I don't think this will come as a complete surprise...but I love canon and canon divergent! The angst of canon is so 🤌🏼 for me, but I do love exploring the possibilities of what if they'd lived to be older than 21, if they hadn't had Voldemort hanging over their heads, and anything else in that magical world.

18. What is a line/scene you’re really proud of? Give us the DVD commentary for that scene.

Oh, such a fun question, so thank you!! I'm going to answer with a bit of a spoiler for i'll be fine, i'll be good Chapter 4 under the cut!

Question list

Lily feels the familiar prick of tears in the back of her eyes, recognizing she’s on the precipice of all or nothing. Mind swimming with the mixed voices of ‘lay low, my dear’, ‘Lily, I love you’, ‘filthy little Mudblood’ and sweet lemon and spicy woods, and James, James, James, and she feels the sob in her throat and swallows it down, dragging her fingers through curls of black hair as teeth nip at her collarbone and take all thoughts of all or nothing away. If she’s going to topple over the edge, she’ll enjoy the feeling of freefall and face what lies at the bottom tomorrow.

I really wanted Lily to break 😅 And I thought that happening to her in what should have been a happy moment was the perfect place to do it. This scene is kind of a culmination of highs and lows (and highs interpreted as lows) all coming and crashing down on her in her weakest, most frightened moment. This is the moment she's broken beyond recognition, and she can only start to heal from here. <3

[neonlight2]

Love of the Grave

Series based off of this fandom and cosplay channel on YouTube: The Dandy Lyon Club

Link to video to exact inspo: https://www.youtube.com/live/LGjqHu6dV_o?si=Brkyqjrm3F5nPn6f

Masterlist

A scream rung throughout the black manor; something common to the old building. Its creaking walls, which seemingly warped the sound to its will, used similar noises often to shudder the windows. From the hidden memories that laid dead beneath the floorboards, they arose as the house took another breath.

However, there was familiarity within the sound, and it was as if the house could remember its pitch. Perhaps… it was part of its collection?

The spirits trapped along each doorway could recognize the sound as well, but found the noise wasn’t as pleasing as it had been. It was pitiful to what it once was a mere few years ago. All misery and lustrous terror gone, now left in a finicky and chaotic nature. A part of the house felt betrayed by the shift, and one could even argue that the air within the house had soured— destain floating in the air alongside a plethora of dust.

Soon there came a rumble of footsteps down the hallways. The dashing feet making the floor squeak, as another, well favored, voice followed.

“Sirius, you’ve scared her away!”

The feet halted, being replaced with the second, far more boisterous voice in the otherwise empty abode. “Oh! I’m sorry, but she bloody scared me!”

The heir— the only acknowledged heir anyhow— of the Black household rolled his eyes before apologizing to the open room, trying to piece together everything his dramatic sibling had scattered. His delicate hands making sure to relight the candles, which were luckily just spares in the grand scheme of their séance, while muttering an array of half curses at his older brother.

As his eyes drifted, he noticed that his annoyance would only grow. “For fucking Merlin sake— you knocked the damn salt off the table you idiot!”

Still refusing to renter the room he now deemed haunted, Sirius peered through the edge of the doorframe. “Regulus I do apologize, but if you don’t recall about five seconds ago there was ghost of one of our dead relatives standing this,” he pinched his fingers in front of his eyes, acting like he was zooming in and out on his younger brothers face, “ close to us!”

“Yes there was,” Regulus replied in a patronizing tone, specifically used for Sirius when he thought him especially dim witted. “I’m glad your sight wasn’t effected like your hearing from our unfortunate genes.”

“Reggie,” the older Black slid down the doorframe with his face covered by his hands. “Do you truly live in this horror every day and night? You poor boy!”

“Yes, as if our house—that is hidden within another flat complex by the use of magic— being haunted is the biggest shock.” Regulus deadpanned with a raised brow, holding blunt judgments. “You’ve been around muggles for too long.”

In any other situation Sirius would have teased him for the action, pointing out the similarity to their mothers resting expression, but there were more pressing matters.

Scoffing, Sirius glared at his brother with a playful yet warning undertone. “James and Lily’s place is far better than this hellhole.”

Not bothering to look back at him, Regulus picked up the books that had fallen from the shelves. All it took was one tipping over for Sirius to jump, accidentally kicking the shelf closest to them with his gangly legs, causing ten more to topple.

“Anastasia seems to disagree.” He remarked, referring to their ancestor who had patiently answered all the questions they had for her in the séance Sirius suggested they have.

“Well seeing as she was killed, probably by someone in relation to our family, I don’t think it’s her favorite place in the world.”

“You can like something and not it’s owners, you do know that right?” Regulus asked, a tinge of irritation slipping through is otherwise perfect monotone disposition. “Or is that too vast of an idea for you to comprehend?”

Ignoring his younger brother, as he often did, Sirius groaned as he pushed himself off the floor. “What I don’t understand is how she lived so long.” He admitted, flicking salt off the skin peaking below his cropped Bowie tee.

“Because she was a Hufflepuff?”

“Well, that, and she was a lesbian.” Sirius replied with a click of his tongue, waiting for his brothers reaction.

“So?”

Furrowing his eyebrows, Sirius gaped at his brother like he was a mad man. “So?! Our family is the definition of traditional Reggie or have you not noticed because your too busy collecting bones with Creature? Where the hell is he anyway? He could be helping us clean up right now.”

“Me, helping me,” Regulus corrected. “You haven’t done anything helpful since you’ve arrived.”

“Ouch, okay— but where is he really? It’s weird not hearing him grumbling in the corner when we hang out.”

“Do you remember which one fell first?” Regulus asked, piling together the pieces of literature. He could have sworn it was green, but that didn’t slim down his choices much. Practically every book in the house was green or black, an occasional brown spine making a rare appearance.

“No,” Sirius answered, easily distracted from his train of thought. “I was busy trying not to piss myself.”

“Calm down, it was not that scary.”

“Not that scary?! She was this—,”

“Shut up would you and make yourself useful!” Regulus all but ordered, as he began to knock on the empty space of the bookcase.

“What? Am I supposed to be checking the stability of the furniture now? Or the quality of the wood? Because I’m sorry to tell you Reg, but everything in this house is as old as the bloody forefathers—,”

“Oh dear Merlin,” Regulus rubs his eyes fervently to try and relieve the building pressure in his head. “Please tell me you know about the passageways.”

He got no response.

Daring himself to look, Regulus peaked over at Sirius. “Not even the hiding quarters? The hidden artifacts?”

Sirius just blinked at his brother.

“Of course you don’t,” he huffed, almost laughing at the discovery.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You never pay attention to anything besides James Potter—,”

“First of all, James is perfect. Second that’s not true I pay attention to plenty of other things that interest me.”

Like Remus Lupin, Regulus wants to say, but he doesn’t.

He’s always had more self control than his brother.

Rolling his eyes, Regulus caved. “You never liked the house enough to actually look around.”

“I did—!”

“Then you did a shit job at it because there’s a hidden trap door right in front of your room.”

“What?”

“Or maybe you just didn’t hear the difference in the flooring.”

“I’m not deaf!” Sirius defended himself, now growing tired of the reoccurring, childhood joke he thought outdated.

Without warning, Regulus startled Sirius as he started coughing, having hit a dust bunny while lining his finger to the creases of the bookcase. Scrambling away, he heaved over trying to catch his breath in between each lurch of his lungs. Rocking on his feet, his arm searched behind him in hopes of finding something to keep stable. Sirius, overcoming his pride, made himself a quicker fix than the wall. Grabbing his reluctant sibling by the shoulders, he slowly set the boy down to sit on the nearest chair— knowing he would only complain if placed in the floor.

When the rather painful episode was coming to an end, Regulus shoved Sirius’ hand away from his back that had been rubbing and patting in hopes to help. He let out a whisper of thanks but no more as he leaned back in the hard wooden chair.

Allowing himself to laugh, Regulus croaked out a smug remark, “And I don’t have asthma.”

Sirius shook his head with a disbelieving grin. “How do you even know what asthma is? I thought ‘all muggle diagnoses were inferior’.”

“When have I ever actually said that?” Regulus quipped, some spite hidden beneath his gritted smirk.

If it weren’t for the suddenness of the question, Sirius may have noticed it, but it would seem that he was far more intrigued by the new found spirit buried somewhere deep within his uptight, little brother.

“Touché,” he replied with dopey— Regulus dare say proud looking smile.

Straining his eyes with the twisting habit, Regulus pointed to the shelves that had just terrorized his lungs. “Check the creases, and press down on the—,”

“I got it, I got it.”

Sirius didn’t, in fact, know what to do. Not as precisely as his brother anyway, but he’d never admit that. So he simply let his hands slap about the sides of the cleared shelves, sometimes leaning toward a bit to tap the back wall. As if he knew what the difference would sound like.

“I still can’t believe you screamed—,” Regulus snorted with his head laying limp off the back of the chair.

“She popped out of nowhere!” Sirius defended, feeling especially tempted to throw another book at his brother.

“Ghosts did the same thing at Hogwarts.”

“Yeah but at least they announced themselves. She didn’t say a word. She- she—,” Sirius couldn’t help but tumble over his words as he had his feet when racing away from the scene. “She just stood there!”

“You sounded like a—,”

“As a feminist, and because Lily Potter commands it,” Sirius took the closest book in hand before raising a brow at Regulus, pointing it menacingly at him, “if you say I ‘screamed like a girl’, I will throw this at you.”

“Would you let me finish one sentence?!” Regulus snapped, and Sirius couldn’t help but stare in awe at the tint appearing across his brothers otherwise ‘ungodly pale’ skin. “Merlin, you’re insufferable.”

Staring at each other, both brothers held something of their own, as they often did. Sirius with his inquisitive and sometimes rash curiosity, contrasting that of Regulus unmoving sternness. However, this time, the youngest seemingly held more defiance than his roguish, older brother.

It would dull within seconds. That was how they worked. Quick to burn up, and just as fast to burn out.

“How is she doing?” Regulus asked, picking at nails all while Sirius continued his search.

“Who? Anastasia? Pretty sure she’s spooked, ironically.” Sirius offered, wanting to make this uncomfortable tension to disappear.

“Lily, you idiot.” Regulus corrected, returning to his annoyed facade.

Staring at him with a curled nose, Sirius asked, “Why? Thought you didn’t like my friends.”

“I don’t,” Regulus confirmed, peeling away whatever remained around his nails. Now he dared not meet his brothers eyes. “She wasn’t originally your friend. We had that in common.”

“Wait… are you saying you two were mates?” Sirius laughed. “You? Mr. Black, heir to the pure blood dynasty—,”

“Oh sod off! We talked in the library,” Regulus trailed off with a small smile of his own, his voice growing soft. “She was nice to me.”

Knowing he wouldn’t get anything further from his brother, Sirius smiles to himself after finding something they held in common, and decided to be kind. He could interrogate Lily about this later anyway.

“She’s fine. Great. Happy and in love with James. I mean who wouldn’t be?”

Regulus just hummed.

“Ah ha!” Sirius shouted in victory, standing on the tips of his toes in order to reach the ridge he had found. “I think— I think I found it! I just got to get the right bloody angle and—,”

Click

The floorboards began to shudder beneath them, sending Sirius backward with a surprised shriek as everything seemed to move. All while Regulus watched in excitement as the wall opened to a hidden hall. It was as if the two had traded personalities as the book shelves began to twist and fold themselves until falling downwards.

“I think I broke the house.” Sirius muttered, stuck still in his spot, unable to move on his own.

“Shut up and come along,” Regulus said with a new surge of energy, yanking his brother by his arm.

“When did you become so adventurous?” Sirius asked, annoyed by this new disposition. He would follow without delay of course. “You weren’t ever like this when I wanted to do things.”

Practically running down the newly made path, Regulus allowed his fingers to glide against each side. “That’s because your ideas were stupid.”

“They were fantastic!”

“They got you into trouble. How many detentions was it? Over a hundred?”

“I didn’t keep count. I’ll ask Remus for you.”

“Oh I’m sure you will.”

“What’s that supposed to me— and now I can’t see.”

The hall had gone dark. All light diminished with each step. Apparently they had wandered too far from the entrance, for when Sirius looked back, he found no difference from his front. And there wasn’t a candle in sight.

Clutching onto his brother’s shoulders for dear life, the older Black whispered, “Please tell me you know where we’re going.”

“The path is still going, we’ll be fine until one of the walls disappear.” Regulus stated without a single quiver in his voice.

“I reckon you’ve done this before?” Sirius inquired, still whispering.

“Yes I have— why are you whispering?”

“I don’t know! It just felt right.”

“You’re so weird.”

“Me? I’m weird? Says the one who is totally fine and dandy going down a hidden passage like looks like a literal death trap.”

Sirius heaved, crashing into Regulus’s back. “What? Why’d you stop? What’s going on?”

Ignoring to urge to tell his brother to shut up, Regulus replied softly, “The wall ran out.”

“Which side?”

“Both.”

“Both?! But you said—,”

“This hasn’t happened before, now back up and let me think.”

For once in his life, Sirius listened to his brother. Regulus was grateful for it.

Finding his way back to the stone wall, Regulus thought. He had gone through dozens of secret passageways in this house. None of them ever lead both directions. The first few times he was thankful, but after a couple of venters he thought it was something done on purpose. No one other than family would ever find them, blood bound magic guaranteed it. He thought maybe his ancestors did it to keep the finder on track or safe. Regulus even let his mind wander to the idea that perhaps it was the house leading him. As if it somehow was giving him permission.

Now he thought himself a fool.

“Hold my hand.”

“What?” Sirius asked, the prospect ludicrous coming from his younger brother. He’d never been scared before, or at least he never showed it.

“Take my bloody hand, I’m going to see if there’s a wall in front of us.”

“Oh.” Doing what he said, shockingly cooperative, Sirius took his brothers left hand in his.

“Now touch the wall and don’t stop until I tell you.”

Sirius complied, shivering. Whether it be from fear or the cold wall he couldn’t tell.

“Alright what now—?”

Sirius grip tightened as his brother moved forward, no warning given. He gulped down the impulsive words longing to jump off his tongue. And he waited until he heard his brother let out a sigh, one he could not differentiate from disappointment or relief.

“What? Is it there? Holy shit it isn’t there is it? Oh Godric we’re going to die in here—,”

“Shut up,” Regulus retorted finally. “It’s there.”

Letting out a sigh of his own Sirius nodded, still touching the wall. “Can I let go now?”

“No.”

“But it’s fucking freezing Reggie.”

“Just—!” Regulus huffed out his frustration before unintentionally giving his brother’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “Give me a moment.”

It only took a few seconds for it to be beyond quiet.

The lack of noise made Sirius ears ring, and he hated the way his mind liked to play tricks with him— making him think he could hear clicking fingertips, nails scratching along the walls, or a far off voice waiting to blind him numb.

Regulus, however, he was used to the silence. He had grown safe within it, utilizing it when it benefited him best. Just as he served it when screaming absently into the void, not a sound leaving his stretched jaw.

And it would appear that it had not forgotten his offerings.

Left

Feeling air pass over the hairs now tall from a short chill running up his neck, Regulus heard a faint whisper in his ear. Tilting his head his eyes closed, pleading the voice to say it once more.

Left

“I’m sorry— I really tried but I can’t stand it. I need you to say something,” Sirius broke, “We’re not splitting up right? I don’t trust this house to not try to impale me or dismember me somehow—,”

“We’re going left.” Regulus replied, leading the way. “You can stop now.”

It didn’t take long for Sirius to flinch away from the chilling stone. “Thank Godric, I was starting to feel pins and needles.”

Walking slow and swiftly, Regulus held his arms out once again, except this time he let them drift up and down as well. The action made a noise that of a brushstroke, sweeping in a back and forth motion.

“How did you know to go left?” Sirius asked, this time in a normal fashion. “And why are you caressing the walls all of a sudden?”

“She told me too.” Regulus replied shortly, continuing like clockwork.

“Okay— that sounded creepy as shit,” Sirius remarked in a comical tone. “What do you mean ‘she told you too’? Who is she? Did you take your vitamins today-?”

“Sirius, for just a few minutes could you just not ask me a question—,”

Stop

Sirius screamed, “Horrid mother of mine— I heard it that time!”

Slipping his fingers a little forward, Regulus felt something smooth pass over his hand. Cool to the touch, and soft when pressed together. A fabric of some kind, fluttering by air which only the tips of his fingers could feel.

Bracing himself, Regulus leaned back into his brother. He was going to warn him to hold on, but then he felt something that lit his body with irritation.

“Sirius?”

“Yes?”

“Have you had your wand on you this whole time?”

“…”

“Sirius.”

“Yes?”

“Do the bloody spell you idiot.”

Rustling to his pockets, Sirius held his wand firm before speaking the word that would have been most convenient not even three minutes ago.

“Lumos.”

Regulus squinted out a glare at his brother, his eyes tensing at the new light within pitch black. “I should maim you.”

“Don’t look at me like that!” Sirius countered, covering the embarrassed bloomed across his face. “What about your wand?!”

“It’s on the table in the room.”

“Well, that’s not very responsible of you is it Regulus? Leaving your only defense behind.”

“Shut up and point it forward.”

“Fine, your such a—,” Sirius train of thought slipped from him the moment his eyes reached what was before them.

A veiled entry, fluttering to a wind they could not feel nor hear. It’s drape black and ripped, as if nails were taken to it, yet the fabric still shined in the light. There was no sign of age, discoloration or even dust. It simply hung in the air, not even connecting to that of a rack or the wall.

What was beyond, they could not see. Almost as if teasing them, the veil would only swing high enough for them to see the outline of the other side. No more, no less.

Regulus took a step forward, ready to embrace whatever resided on the other side. His brother, however, wavered.

“Reggie are you sure this is the best idea?”

“When did you become so reasonable?” Regulus quipped, lightly amused by his brother’s fear.

“Apparently when you stopped.”

“You sound like me.”

Sirius vocally gagged. “Don’t you dare ever say that to me again.”

“Then hurry up and come along.”

That was the last thing Regulus said before ducking under the black veil when it had reached its peak.

There was nothing left of him anymore. Not a glimpse of of his coal colored curls, not the even the sound of his clothes brushing up against each other.

“Regulus?” Sirius asked into the nothingness. “Regulus I swear on James if you pop out of there like a little shit and try to scare me I’ll strangle you.”

Nothing.

Gulping down his nerves, Sirius bounced on his heels, whilst tightening around his wand. “Okay, can’t let my little brother show us up can you now Sirius… Fine. Fine, fine.”

And he leaped… falling flat on his face… onto grass?

“Took you long enough.”

Huffing with a mix of amusement and annoyance, Sirius glance up at his brother— who didn’t so much as offer him a hand, only a shit-eating grin. “You’re a prick.”

Smiling even wider, Regulus watched as his brother scrambled up, making sure to check on his prized attire. “You should mind your manners brother.”

Furrowing his eyebrows at the sudden title, Sirius acted as if Regulus had grown a second head. “Brother? Mind my manners? Did you hit your head as well?”

Glancing from his brother to Sirius’ left, Regulus felt even more smug. “No, I landed gracefully with the help of one of our relatives,” he watched as Sirius’ head slowly shifted to follow his line of sight, “Now mind your manners and at least greet Anastasia. She did allow us to find her garden after all.”

Sirius went pink with shock and embarrassment. Barely a yard away from them way their ancestor, with a title including a plentiful amount of ‘greats’ he imagined. She sat with poise on an out fashioned swing made of only wood and rope ridden with moss. Both look aged, contrasting to the youth covering her features. In fact, everything around them look rather dull. The flowers were all in bloom and ripe in color, yet they stood so sickly. Although, Anastasia, even with the black and gray of her being, she look almost as alive as the two of them.

“Nice to finally meet you Sirius,” she spoke. Her voice was higher than he suspected, holding an echo to each syllable. “You’ve changed so much since I’ve last seen you, yet stayed the very same. Very fortunate of you.”

“Hi, yes, I’m sorry for… well that,” Sirius gestured  dramatically to the patch of grass he just fell upon. “It nice to meet you too, again, um— I’m sorry are you talking about a little while ago, ‘you last saw me’ or…”

A small smile crept up her face, but it seemed to hurt her too much for it to become full. “I used to watch you both when you were little.”

Scrunching up his nose, Sirius tilted his head as if to stop from saying something. He should have known better.

“Sorry that just sounds a bit creepy.”

“Sirius!” Regulus scolded, genuine in his disbelief this time.

“What it does?! I said sorry!”

“She’s a ghost Sirius, trapped in our house, of course she’s seen us!”

“Alright… touché, but why is it you’re trapped?” Sirius asked, turning his attention to Anastasia, who sat still but seemingly had breeze flowing about the strands of her hair. “Or are you? You did say you had unfinished business right? With the Malfoy family?”

Her expression was quick to turn gloomy and sour. “You would not need to know if you didn’t want to. I’ve been nothing but cooperative with your little seance, and you insist of asking more?”

“Sirius,” Regulus whispered harshly, ordering his brother to apologize.

“I’m sorry,” Sirius stated, not knowing which set of eyes he feared more. “I just want to know how to help.”

Anastasia’s head tilted, her brows softening as she rose from her seat. None of her footsteps making a sound as she approached the boy. Sirius tensed as she grew inches from his face, not seeming to think of personal space. He guessed in a way this was his karma.

She took her time studying his features, as if looking for the truth behind his eyes, but she knew it already.“You used to look just like your mother.”

Sirius bit his tongue, his jaw twitching at the comment. She was right. He was the depiction of his mother, many mistaking him for a daughter at first glance when he was a toddler, especially as his hair began to grow. His mother hated it as well, after Sirius had a personality of his own that is. She’s cut his hair in order to stop the reoccurring remarks, and she’d hex whatever she couldn’t fix with scissors.

The only way Sirius could bare to look himself in the mirror was by constantly changing with time. Sure there were things that he couldn’t change: the slope of his cheek, the color of his eyes, and the Cupid bow of his upper lip. But he could fix everything else by painting his eyes and nails colors that his mother would never be seen near, by dressing scandalously, and by the cut of his hair— always wild and all over the place.

“You’re lucky,” she complimented, a small hint of jealousy within her tone, “You’ve outgrown her.”

Slipping through his side, sending goosebumps all along his right arm, she floated in Regulus’ direction. Anastasia didn’t even look at him as she passed by, letting out a whistle of a whisper of which only he could hear.

“Some of us never do.”

Regulus didn’t need her touch to feel his bones go cold.

“Anastasia, what happened to you?” He asked, feeling his heart falter as him and Sirius followed after her— having to almost jog to keep with her deadly pace.

When she finally stood still long enough for them to catch their breath, they couldn’t help but gawk in awe at the vine infested statue in from of them. An Angel stood with its head down, depleted, as if weeping— grieving.

“I don’t really remember anymore,” she answered, hardly a whisper.

Staring in a daze, she hovered over the angel’s garb, scared to touch the piece. “I started hiding away my memories so that I wouldn’t be tormented anymore. Sometimes I come across a few,” she evaporated from the spot in an instant, reappearing atop a tree branch hanging over the boys, “Every one hurts more than the last. I often wonder if that’s another reason I ripped them from my head.”

Pinching his brows together, Sirius asks, “If you can’t remember, than why are you still here?”

Regulus couldn’t help but wonder the same thing. Without a purpose, a ghost would normally move on. Why hadn’t she?

“I cannot leave without her.”

Approaching softly, Regulus stared up at her with pure eyes, “Who?”

Anastasia smiled to herself, this time until her cheeks caved, revealing dimples both brothers could swear they had seen in their own reflections. Moreover, when her mouth opened as if she were to speak her lovers name, nothing left. Her lips just parted, agape, and her hand reached to cup her throat as if free the name from its cage.

Her chin quivered when she finally gave up her attempt, and she only wished she could walk away the wretched feeling.

There was something festering within Regulus he could not comprehend. He had assumed pity, perhaps sympathy, but he found neither fit.

He would not hold his tongue any longer.

“We’ll find her for you,” he promised, paying no attention to his brother, who was gaping at his audacity. “Just tell us where to start.”

“Regulus,” it was Sirius turn to scold.

“The mirror is where it began.” she whispered descending from the branch to lead them away.

Regulus followed without questions, determined not to lose sight of her. All while Sirius chased after him, tugging on his arm to gain his attention.

“Regulus, I won’t say I’m not proud by this kind gesture, but you don’t know how long this will take,” Sirius said, a worried pitch to his voice. “I can’t be here when mother returns, and if I don’t go back in an hour or so James, Lily, Remus— they’ll worry. Merlin forbid they call Dumbledore to find me only to see us in this—,”

“Time doesn’t move here.” Anastasia interrupted, stopping to point at a broken father clock, the hands stopped on three. “You’ll be returned to the time you came here.”

Regulus glanced back at his brother, his expression asking ‘any other complaints?’.

Shrugging his shoulders, Sirius gave in. “Sounds good.”

They continued down the grass path, noticing with every step that the number of wildflowers diminished. Instead they were replaced with white stone, building up to what look like an alter. Except, in stead of offerings and a monument of worship, there was a mirror, round and grand in gold. Candles leaked down the sides, dripping onto the cobblestones that mimicked horse hooves.

“This is where I awoke, and the only thing I can remember,” she stated somberly, her eyes now drained and dull.

It was as if the short trip had taken a toll on her.

Finally, she looked at them. There was no more fondness found, nor destain, only warning.

“If you touch the mirror, you won’t be able to leave until the memory is finished. And the body you inhabit won’t be yours,” she explained a deep gravity in her otherwise pleasant voice. “You’ll have to live within another mind. No autonomy, no control.”

“Well…” Sirius trailed with a prolonged sigh. “It wouldn’t be the craziest thing I’ve done.”

Glancing at Regulus, she awaited his answer.

“We’ll be fine,” he replied, giving his brother a look only he could interpret.

No backing out now.

Sirius nodded, taking his place next to Regulus as they held out their hands.

“Ready for our first adventure brother?” Sirius asked cheekily, hiding the fear lodged in his gut.

A small smile tugged at Regulus lips, and he deemed it worthy of a response. “Don’t change my mind now.”

Their hands pushed forward, touching the middle just for it to pool around their fingers and envelop them whole. It swelled around them, swallowing their being in silvered mercury, until it was all they could breathe.

The substance went thick as smoke down their throats, and when they exhaled their eyes opened. A new freedom in their lungs, but a different color welcoming their vision.

Their grey eyes now a whiter tint, and their hair falling lower than Sirius’.

There she was, gripping the engraved wood around the mirror they had just transformed through— Anastasia.

Youthful. Their age.

Alive.

[unboundwanderers]

( death prompt / looney ) this was it. it was . . . over? the ground of her home felt unstable beneath her feet as if it shook with every breath she took. crystalline irises were wide as she couldn't even muster to raise her chin; she was frozen. in grief. in pain. in every breath that she took without him, she felt like a piece of her crumbled. his last words are hazy; they feel like an indescribable cacophony of distant sounds. too far away to grasp as they mixed into something incomprehensible. " he's . . . " a word spilled from dried-up lips. the deity did not recognize her own voice as she spoke; it was too heavy with pain. she still did not look up. it was the fear of seeing this world without him . . . they had explored it all together. even if it was not for eternity; even if it was just a ripple within the time she had spent living; it meant everything. it was the tidal wave that she needed; the crashing wave that woke her from an eternal slumber. slowly, her legs gave out; trembling limbs let her descend onto the ashen soil beneath her. " he's gone . . . " the hot tears brimming her eyes almost went unnoticed with the way her heart banged against her ribcage. it was screaming. everything was screaming. it was done. it is done. there is no going back. " no . . . i—i need to — " slowly would they cascade from her unblinking irises, glossing over reddened cheeks; sinking into the ground under her legs. her gaze narrowed as she let herself hunch over; it was like the realization itself had her topple over. shit. shit. shit. she should have asked. she should have stayed. she should have said so many more things but now . . . it was over. it was all over. no blue police box covered in rose petals. no one to get upset over the fact that they got everywhere. alone. she felt so incredibly alone. teeth & jaw clenched as the grief turned into something that she hadn't felt in so long; rage. " no . . . p—please. "

the lilies of the valley that rose from her tears shook with the earth they bloomed upon. it stopped. the tears, that was. they would dry upon her heated cheekbones as everything under her quaked. it was a numbing feeling; like the white fire of anger, though, much more volatile. she was angry at this world. she was angry at chaos. but mostly, she was angry at herself. perhaps, if she had been strong enough, she could have stopped this. she could have said what she wanted to. but it was too late . . . & thus, the earth rumbled one last time. in grief had this world come to a stop, mourning the loss of someone that never had the chance of walking alongside her.

THE DOCTOR IS DYING. I could do so much more.

             It took him about fifteen minutes to realize he hadn't actually died yet. When his eyes fluttered open and he felt that familiar chilly concrete, his face seemed to contort in this almost frustrated shape before he picked himself up off the ground. He rolled his shoulders and bent his back enough to hear a couple of snaps and cracks, which triggered a loud groan from him before he moved to stand up and rub his hands down his face. The memories were flooding back to him, now. He had helped Gaia get back home. A wrongfully exiled Goddess is being chased across The Universe by a malicious entity. The herculean task had death flags all over it. So why was he surprised when he felt that FAMILIAR HEAT wash through his veins. Regeneration. It was starting. The Longest sigh escaped him as he realized that.

             Across the open, now empty city where this had occurred- The POLICE BOX stood across a field. This heavy sigh escaped him as the thoughts of what might happen next ran through his mind. Would he even have the strength to make the short walk across the field? Would the change take him before that? He could already feel it swelling up. Taking this long inhale, he pushed that fire down. He held back his own regeneration. He knew that you could sometimes refuse to regenerate- but the choice had to be made the moment the process started. When he'd awoken from his state of unconsciousness, he'd been lucky by only a few seconds that it didn't ALREADY occur... so now all he could do was try to suppress it for as long as he could.

             WHEN YOU'RE HOLDING BACK DEATH, you feel like you're on top of the world. The adrenaline pumping through your veins, those prolonged seconds. You know in your mind that you can do SO MUCH MORE... and he wants to. He has the power too. He takes that first step across the field, and it's hard- every step is hard... but he knows he has to make it. Every movement, every strained muscle, every ounce of blood pumping through his veins- it was all incredibly painful. It was no surprise when he COLLAPSED halfway between where he'd started, and where he was going... and the tears- oh, how much more painful it was to hold them back. Even when he was alone, this incarnation refused to break. Beaten down by tireless forces that tried to keep him down, broken by the endless tragedy of watching a loved one walk to their death, or losing a friend, or accepting that you were most likely going to see a lot of that. Even as he felt it all crashing down on him, he persevered. Because he must.

             He stood back up, finally making it back to The Tardis. Sliding the key into the door, he knew this was the last time THESE eyes were going to look at it- so he took in the box for as long as he could. As if he was saying goodbye to a unique beauty. He finally pushed into the TARDIS- and the POLICE BOX faded from that place... But The Doctor wasn't done, no... not just yet. He had a few people he had to see... Firstly, he had to visit The Last Celestial-- and help her complete her journey to the stars... After that, he'd make sure a certain NIGHT ORCHID had everything she'd needed for an escape from a risky situation-- even if she hadn't known she was there... and finally... Oh, finally... he returned to the City of Freedom and said goodbye to a LAWRENCE KNIGHT... who'd been his true test. By the time all his goodbyes were over and finished with- he was tired... feeling this heavy drowsiness pass over him.

             PULLING DOWN THE TARDIS handbrake, leaning over the console for the last time. Leaning against it, with that weight of holding back the flames ravaging his chest, his lungs- his heart. He moved to step away from the console, pacing for just a moment as he knew he could do nothing more to hold it back... and finally, those tears spilled out, as he knew he was alone... ALONE. But not because he wanted to be, but because that was the kind of life he lived... and in this final moment, the words choked in his throat- he thought of anything to say... anything... and finally, in his mind... he felt it wash over him, and he just... said it.

             "Where there's change, there's hope. That's good enough for me..."

             WELL... HERE GOES NOTHING. He felt the golden energy beginning to spill out. As his fists tightened, this BRIGHT, GOLDEN STEAM emanated off of his hands, causing a bright gold to flood the interior of The TARDIS. His face and hands began to emanate with the warmth of REGENERATION ENERGY. Each pant that dragged out got harder and harder to take- and he felt the strength to keep it held down slipping from him. He sucked in that final exhale before it all slipped out.

             Like Rocket TRAILS- The Golden energy slipped out and caused vibrations to rock through the TARDIS. Sparks, flames, and explosions leak outward from all corners of the SPACESHIP. The Rotor wheezing, The TARDIS slipping out of flight- exploding, crashing. All the while, its pilot changed- morphed. His sunkissed skin got paler, his brown hair was flooded with a bright pink- and his deep brown eyes shined a bright and beautifully golden. He let out one final scream, but even his voice had changed- every cell... refreshed... changed... renewed... REGENERATED.

            HE ALMOST LOST HIS BALANCE when he spun on his ankle. Standing firm- quickly regained his balance. He heard an explosion, and that finally queued him to speak out, "Oh Great Heavens! What happened to the console room!?" He looked down, finally examining his body. He blinked, almost shocked by the change- how intense the process had been. Stumbling backward, he slapped his pectorals. He screamed out "What happened to me!?" He cried out, before another explosion rocked him into the console, and he finally realized that THE TARDIS WAS CRASHING. And he finally realized what had been going on- "Change!? CHANGE!! I've CHANGED!!" He began to laugh, moving forward- grabbing a switch, and YANKING IT DOWN-- Regardless of the sparks that popped out.

                                                                                                            "ABOUT TIME!!"

[dhr-ao3]

Powdered Gun

Powdered Gun https://ift.tt/r1mlxhk by C_Solace Falling down a rabbit hole. Twisted fabricated story. Opposite guns. Chambers empty. Tower toppling murderous fun. So begins our tale of love. Words: 1033, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death Categories: F/F, F/M, Multi Characters: Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, Ron Weasley, Theodore Nott, Narcissa Black Malfoy, Bellatrix Black Lestrange, Harry Potter, Luna Lovegood, Ginny Weasley, Lucius Malfoy, Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks, Sirius Black, Tom Riddle | Voldemort, Minerva McGonagall, Albus Dumbledore, Blaise Zabini, Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, James Potter, Lily Evans Potter, Petunia Evans Dursley, Dudley Dursley, Vernon Dursley, Severus Snape, Bill Weasley, Fleur Delacour, George Weasley, Fred Weasley, Percy Weasley, Charlie Weasley, Neville Longbottom, Hannah Abbott, Lavender Brown, Cedric Diggory, Cho Chang, Cormac McLaggen Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Luna Lovegood/Harry Potter, Pansy Parkinson/Ginny Weasley, Daphne Greengrass/Theodore Nott, Remus Lupin/Nymphadora Tonks, Fleur Delacour/Bill Weasley, Hannah Abbott/Neville Longbottom, Lavender Brown/Ron Weasley, Cho Chang/Cedric Diggory, Hermione Granger/Cormac McLaggen Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Mafia AU, Forbidden Romance, First Love, Vendettas, Magic is still a thing here, Wizarding world - mafia style, good girl gone bad, Deatheaters are the mob in this case, MASSIVE CHANGE TO CHARACTERS/RELATIONSHIPS, Hogwarts is now a university, everyone is 18 or older, Some yikes relationships before we get to the good shit, Accompanying Playlist, Lots of Angst, POV First Person, POV Alternating, POV Third Person, Blood status doesn't matter in this fic, It's all about the money and the magical prestige, Really doesn't follow the storyline or plot of Harry Potter whatsoever, cliches, Cliques, Mean Girls via AO3 works tagged 'Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy' https://ift.tt/nvblkqh May 11, 2023 at 07:32PM

[tempest-toss]

Tempest-Specific GOIs [Masterlist 2/2]

[A = Ally, P = Partner, N = Neutral, T=Threat; vignettes attached if applicable]

Shibuya Ghost Detectives (A) A group of young adults that work to put to rest the many ghosts and spirits of Japan, although they tend to handle cases in Shibuya. They have worked with the Foundation's Japan branch to help with any paranormal anomalies

Snapdragon Smugglers (N) [Cold, Auction, Report] One of the first Tempest-specific GOIs to be jotted down. The kings of the anomalous black market, they'll steal, sell, kidnap, destroy, and kill in order for them to make a profit. Oddly honest.

Talvania Author Society (P) A former secret society that is less cullt-like but still meets in secret to discuss how to preserve and enforce knowledge. A fierce rivalry with the Mystery Masqueraders. Currently on good terms with us since we helped save Lily Teca.

The Cinephile Club (N) A club dedicated to all things film, but they land on our list since not only are all the members anomalous, but the movies they make are to. We must be vigilant whenever movie theaters change out their movies, for they might try to sneak one of their own in.

The Curious Caravan (N) One of the few truly neutral GOIs, they only appear to those in dire need of assistance when traveling. They are well known for having the POI, The Lady with a Cart, who saved a few stranded personnel members.

The Expressionists (A/N) A group of anomalous artists consisting of punks, art students, AWCY? members and more, they tend to hang out around train depots and work. Have allied in the past, but have also clashed with events such as the Paris Paint Panic.

The Flora Fighters (T) [Misson, News, Report] A group of Eco-terrorists that seek to eliminate all human life and reset the world to a plant utopia. They are one of the few groups that almost shattered the veil when they used the Gaia Seed and grew a plant monster in the center of Prague.

The Golden Gambler Casino (N) Formed by Jack Royal, this anomalous casino is the definition of "The House Always has the Advantage". Infinite gambling, spontaneous anger, and rigged games fill this avarice den. While you have a chance at winning, it is best to avoid entering if you want your wallet and sanity.

The Horror Havocs (N) Formed by brothers Luke and Letif Rangel, these two seek to show the world that horror is still a good genre and that the world can and should be more spooky. Frequently teams up with The Cinephile Club; actively tries to help other students escape Brunshire Academy.

The Moonshine Makers (N) Moonshining is still a business and these illegal manufacturers are thriving from it. With their dangerously alcoholic and Veil-ruining moonshine, they could topple the world, but why bother when it can churn out such a profit?

The Neon Nightsticks (T) Dominating the world of cybercrime, these hackers do everything for their betterment, and have no care for whoever they are stalking, doxxing, and hacking. Your credit cards and passwords are forfeit and may have already been compromised.

The Plague (T) A group made up of "The Immune", who claim that they "Must plague the earth in pestilence so that it can be reborn". It is believed they created the different plagues and pandemics that have littered the world and killed many. Be cautious whenever approaching them.

The Popcorn Palace (N) Created out of anon magic, this group is one of anomalous humans made of differently flavored popcorn. Their status as a new GOI means we have little information on them as well as their end goals.

The Troupe of Shadows (T) [Thoughts, Mission, Report] Having existed since the feudal era, the Troupe of Shadows is a hard GOI to place. The ringleader determines their status as friend or foe, and unfortunately, the current ringleader is the evilest one yet and has even garnered enough hate that the Foundation created a task force specifically made to hunt her down.

West Virginia Bug Committee (T) Originally an entomology club, a zealous Mark Mosura took over and changed it into a group comprised of insectoid humans all of who wish to summon Mothman so that he can help them dominate the world.

Worldwide Photography Co. (P) Posing as a camera distributor, the Worldwide Photography Co. has been using their cameras and abilities to take stunning photographs, although these ones tend to move, attack, and much more! Currently has a prodigy known as Dimitri Polar.

[thequeendomhq]

NAME. Lily Liu AGE & BIRTH DATE. 30 & October 20th, 2994 AC GENDER & PRONOUNS. Female & She/her NATIONALITY. Lysaran SPECIES. Druid ( Primal ) FACTION. The Harmonium & Nightingales OCCUPATION. N/A FACE CLAIM. Mena Massoud

biography Nestled deep within the autumn woods where the tree-tops were stained with purples and orange leaves that had yet to shed from their branches was a grove of trees that had once been a shelter for the creatures of the woods, deer had taken their rest upon the soft grass and winter was creeping in, frost lingered on the tips of leaves. A sleeping baby left abandoned on the knobby trunk of a tree that had toppled due to a lighting storm, oblivious to the cold elements and left to die by exposure.

It was never intended that Lily would find her way out of the woods, she was born in secret with only the stars as witnesses and wasn't a miracle meant to be kept. Beyond reason or explanation, she survived and grew, wherever she walked, she stumbled, swaying as she learned to survive on her own two feet by herself and the flow of the wind moved her, finding pace by the breath of the forest.

The deers gathered around her, does waited for her hand on their back and urged her forward, made from birch and ivy was an archway that she knew she had to step through, an eerie song could be heard coming forth that were for her ears only, it was a language that she never learned and yet knew intuitively as if the song had always been inside her.

Mist coiled around her ankles where she stepped and faces that she had yet to know emerged from the fog, cruel and honest truths reveal themselves to her and it is with a heavy heart that she accepted what's been, what has yet to happen and what will never be. She leaves the arches changed for what she has experienced and yet the secrets will die with her, it is the first inkling of the Nightgale that has yet to uncurl it's wings and fly.

She was a wild thing whose beauty distracted from the marks of the forest within her hair, she had a smile that made others forget that she had emerged without a place in this world but a place that she had carved in nature for herself.

The noble that adopted her proved that not every person who had wealth to their name was a person hell-bent on destruction, that kindness could exist even within luxury. Lily would perform as she grew for the guests that would come to visit the castle, it was a natural fit to secure Lily's studies within the The Harmonium and it was a natural transition to join the Nightgale's, she would make good out of the cage that she had found within society and it was through the right word whispered at a vulnerable time, when one was lying naked and exposed, serotonin coursing them and unsuspecting of the pretty thing next to them.

She is a kept women, who sings and dances for the nobles of Eterna, she attends all the right parties, laughs in the right way, doesn't say too much or too little and dreams of a world that existed beyond the castle gates, one filled with magic and wonder, where the earth pulsed in tune with her heartbeat and one day she will be free.

personality

+ Bright, independent, friendly – Secretive, flighty, unsatisfied

played by amy. pst. she/her.