#Please stop killing his beloved on a snowy day

[crestedpalls]

How many excuses can they come up with to show each other affection? Too many.

[love-toxin]

inside -- conrad dmitriev

rq: "Packing Conrad meals and making sure to give him a farewell kiss when he goes out to hunt or for a contract kill 🥺 I’m so insanely soft for this big strong mountain man 🧎‍♀️💕"

warnings: subdued yandereness, implied Stockholm Syndrome, implied coercion, isolation, mostly fluff.

word count: 1.2k

spice level: 0.5/5

"Baby?" 

Conrad's voice calling out to you reached you to your place on his bed, and you moved quickly to get up and pull the fur you had been laying on around your shoulders.

You padded through the doorway of his bedroom and crossed the threshold of his humble cottage in the soft moccasins he had made for you, and standing there in front of the open doorway was your hero, your protector, and your beloved partner all wrapped up into one. His face lit up as he caught sight of you coming over, and he shifted the strap of his hunting rifle to sling it over his shoulder so it wouldn't get in the way. He had on his usual attire for a trip out–backpack, heavy snow boots, his hooded parka and thick pants lined with fur, leather gloves, and through the open door you spotted his sled packed on with the rest of his gear, which mostly consisted of a huge gym bag stuffed with all manner of things to survive in the wilderness. Hunting knives, food, water, sedative, gauze and homemade ointment to fight infection, a spigot to tap syrup, everything you could dream of. Usually the sled meant that he was just hunting game, so you could expect that he would be returning home with a fatty boar or a deer or even bear meat, and you would spend the next few days salting and preparing the meat to keep well while Conrad found some use for the pelts. It was a simple life with him. A good one, too.

Communication had been a slow process, though, which was one of the few hiccups–Conrad spoke more English than you did Russian, but he was still learning and so were you. You owed him so much, you thought it would be the least you could do to learn his language to make it easier on him rather than you. But he insisted on learning your tongue as well, and he could often be found reading English books with worn covers that he had picked up at the used book stores in the city. He really was amazing–after your car had broken down as you were travelling between the cities for work and you had been forced to wander into the snowy wilderness to try and find help, you really did think you were going to die. And you were close to it, the cold seeping into your bones as you finally collapsed in the snow after days of roaming and starving along the way. But Conrad had appeared out of thin air to pick you up and take you to his home to nurse you back to health, and since then (and since he wasn't able to find your car in his ventures outside) you had little choice but to stay with him. Sure, it was hard at first, but you had gotten used to it….and Conrad had certainly gotten used to you. 

Speaking of which, he tapped his cheek with a gloved finger, his smile growing even wider as you came closer to him. He may have towered over you at six and half feet of pure man, but he had a habit of melting at your feet whenever you showed him even the slightest bit of affection. 

"Kiss."

With a hand on his gun strap to keep it from falling, he leaned down far enough for you to reach and closed his eyes, his pale skin growing pink as you cupped his face in your hands and pecked him on the cheek. Satisfied, he started straightening up–but you stopped him before he could finish and pressed your mouth to his, and he let slip a soft groan of pleasure against your lips at the unexpected but not unwelcome surprise. He was so easy to please, it was just so cute. 

"Spasiba. I am strong now." 

When you finally broke away and he stood up straight again, Conrad lifted an arm up and flexed, his eyelids pulling up into a squint from how big his grin had become once you laughed. 'Your love makes him strong' that was a sentiment he often shared with you, and it was somewhat of an inside joke since it was something you both could clearly get across to each other. 

"My love. Love you, love you, love you." 

He ruffled your hair with one of those huge hands and let it drift down to your cheek, his playful pinch not nearly hard enough to hurt, just enough to tease. And even so, he soothed it by rubbing his thumb over your skin and looking down into your eyes, so full of genuine admiration that it made you glad that you had almost died here. If it weren't for that, you would never have met. 

"Home soon. Sundown." 

He leaned over and pointed out the door and up towards the sky, gesturing towards the sun that was partially hidden by clouds. You had learned to tell the time by the position alone since Conrad possessed not a single clock, and you knew that he meant he would be home once night fell. You often worried for him, but in the end, he gave you little reason to. He always came home, even if he was covered in blood and cuts and black eyes, and he always reassured you that everything would be fine even if he never told you why. 

"Eat well. Be safe."

As he took a step out, he paused and bent down one more time to claim another kiss from you–and only then was he finally out the door completely, taking a hold of the sled to secure it to his backpack and tug on it to make sure it was steady. He turned his head to look at you over his shoulder and waved, and then he was finally off, heading off towards the treeline until he soon disappeared and you finally shut the door. It was always an investment of time to fiddle with all those locks that he had put on but he insisted it was necessary, including the ones on the windows that you made your rounds for before closing every shutter and testing them to make sure. Only then could you settle into the sofa for the day, waiting aimlessly for your darling to return from his trip with the fruits of his labour.

But he knew that, and to entertain you he had wired up a tiny crt television for you that just barely got a crackly signal, and he had a radio from his parents that he would tune just for you to listen, plus he owned a great many books that were scattered in piles and shelves all over the rooms of the cabin. Aside from that you also had free reign to cook, draw in his sketchbooks, paint with the little watercolour set he bought you from the city, or write in one of the many leather bound journals he made by hand as a hobby. But even with all that enrichment he had offered it could still get a little boring without him around, but what else were you to do? It was the least you owed your savior, because you wouldn't even be alive without him–and you were sure, now, that you couldn't even survive without him anymore. Not in his own domain, at least, and it sometimes made you wonder: were all these locks to keep everything out, like he said….or were they just to keep you inside? 

[bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher]

So thinking about things, as one does, and care to share Fairy Jaskier’s POV of when he realized he needed to marry Geralt?

Okay I just want to say: thank you for this idea. I went through among the buttercups and copied all of the reactions beat for beat, so hopefully you enjoy this just as much!

---

The man isn’t quite human. He has eyes the color of early summer dandelions and hair of snowy white that he keeps in a high ponytail as he stalks between the trees. His shoulders are broad and strong and capable; on them the stranger carries two large swords. He is very pretty, Jaskier thinks, like a birch tree in spring. The tiny fairy watches in utter fascination as the stranger hunts down, subdues, and kills the Large Hairy Thing that had been stomping through the woods these past few weeks. Jaskier is incredibly pleased by and more than a little curious about his handsome visitor.

The fairy follows Dandelion-Eyes back to the clearing where he’s made camp and watches as he feeds himself and his horse. The fairy wanders closer after the stranger has laid down to sleep and waits until the man starts snoring before crawling up and taking a seat on his chest. Jaskier looks at the way Dandelion-Eyes’ lips part as he breathes; his brows are far less intense when they’re relaxed like this and he seems so much younger somehow. 

When morning arrives the man wakes up and blinks down at him, confusion dawning in those gorgeous honey-golden eyes. Jaskier points down at the necklace his future husband has slung around his neck and asks, “Why is there a wolf on it? Are you a wolf, too? Why is your hair like that? What is your name? Most importantly, when shall we wed!?”

The man’s brows furrow again like they had during his hunt and one of his large hands moves to scoop Jaskier up. He is offering his hand! The first step in Fairy Courting! Jaskier grins like a dope as he’s manhandled off his future husband’s broad pectoral. Unfortunately, he is then deposited a few feet away on a fallen branch. Jaskier is not only offended, he is hurt! Enraged! How dare this pretty not-human reject him so breezily! 

“Sorry, little one. I need to get packed and return to the trail. No time for making friends, I’m afraid. It was nice to meet you.”

He flies up into his future husband’s face and releases his rage and wild offense, “You bastard! You cannot just offer me your hand, which I accepted by the way and that means we’re courting, and then get rid of me so easily! It just isn't’ done! Not in the polite society where I was raised!”

Dandelion-Eyes steps past Jaskier and knocks against one of his delicate white wings; the abrupt pain of the buffet shocks and disorients him. The fairy spins in the air like a top, off balance and dizzy, until his equilibrium gives out and he plummets towards the unforgiving ground. This is it, he thinks, just before a large hand stops his body mid-fall. He blinks in shock as the stranger lifts him up to face-height again. “Do you have a name?”

He sits up quickly, a love-struck look in his eyes and his pain forgotten as he says: “Jaskier!”

“I’m Geralt,” says Jaskier’s future husband, “It’s nice to make your acquaintance.”

“Oh lovely! It’s so nice to finally know what to call you, my Geralt! I’m so excited for our wedding day! I’m so happy that you’ve already proposed a courtship-” he stands and dusts himself off, still talking away while Geralt looks on, “-you’ll look lovely in green, I think. Or dark blue. Something to bring out your pale skin and lovely eyes.”

He flutters up from Geralt’s palm and settles onto the flattest part of his shoulder-armor. He crosses his ankles politely and smiles as coyly as possible at his recently acquired mate. Geralt disappoints once again. 

“No, my friend, you cannot come with me.”

Jaskier sees Geralt’s warm hand coming up to move him again, and he’s had just about enough of this nonsense by now; he grabs a fistful of silver hair and yanks with all his miniscule might. “Absolutely not! I’m staying right here! You offered me your hand, Geralt, and now you have to court and marry me!”

The strange almost-human sighs and rolls his eyes. 

Jaskier starts to hum a happy little melody, already braiding a small section of his future husband’s hair into a short wedding braid. 

Already Jaskier knows that this protector, this sullen hero, will be his most treasured beloved.

[nebula-starlight]

Sepsis (Pt. 16: A Story Told)

She… She hadn’t done it! She hadn’t murdered that Healer in cold blood. She wasn’t a monster! It- It was all the fault of that voice in her head. The one who constantly growled and glitched and made the last few months of her life a living hell without Nethreis there to keep it subdued. She couldn’t give the Other its satisfaction of a name. Names had power after all and her only goal at the moment, besides running for her life, was to prevent that… thing from having any more influence than it had already accumulated. So she ran, taking flight in the dead of night towards the nearby towering Northern Mountains to seek out a place to reside away from those who no doubt wished for her death. There was simply no way she could make them understand that it hadn’t been her who committed the heinous crime. 

When she finally landed, Versila slid over the fine layer of snow and nearly lost her balance before grabbing hold of a frosted over boulder and clinging to it until her hind claws dug into the frozen ground with enough purchase to the point that she would not fall. Her eyes flickered around, taking in the bleak landscape and she sighed, wings pressing tight against her side as a bitter chill made her long for the warmth of an open fire. That luxury was one she could not afford now, much to her dismay, but she shoved off the longing and started making her way through the snowy terrain as best she could. Hopefully she had a far enough head start that any who tried to follow would have to struggle to catch up with her before the night’s shadows got too thick to safely traverse the landscape. 

Unfortunately the cold did not prevent that ever-present glitchy voice from growling once again, seemingly irritated about something or another. And while it wasn’t entirely audible, or at the very least she didn’t focus too hard on it, the fact that it was still present left her feeling…. bitter. It wasn’t entirely the bitterness of rejection or the pang of jealousy but it was enough of a sensation that she stopped where she was for a moment and lifted her head to see the clouded night sky. They were better off without her in their lives. He…. No she couldn’t cast him aside even though he had left her alone for months while he went off and did the various killings commanded of him by those infernal Councilmembers and their pompous leader. Magnus had, after all, been the one to put the charge of her father’s death on her and then bind her soul to Nethreis’s in some sick twisted scheme to plant a sense of control over the kind, gentle spirit that had once saved her life in ways she hadn’t even gotten up the courage to tell him. 

“Please…. If there is one who watches over us… please spare him from the horrid fate I fear those vile leaders have planned for him. He does not deserve such misery after all he has…” She trailed off, hearing just over the wind the faintest echo of a very familiar bellow. It couldn’t be. He wasn’t scheduled back for another few days at the very least according to the last letter he had sent her some weeks prior. 

The voice in her head snarled angrily, glitching with enough force that Versila winced, feeling it ripple through her body from the force of the apparent hatred. Had the Other ever expressed such disgust of what was hers? For whatever reason she could not seem to recall and that thought brought her a sense of deep sorrow. Shaking her head, she was about to move on when some sense she could not name made her look back the way she had come so far through the snowed mountainous land. If he followed her… Was he still obeying those orders that had been drilled into him by Magnus? She knew of the secret meetings, though unaware of what was discussed, but saw how weary her mate appeared each time she comforted him in their home afterwards. It was as if there was an energy depleted from him after each of his meetings with the Councilmember and her concern had only grown the less he seemed to share with her about these interactions. Why was he acting as if these conversations were private? Was she not his mate and bound to his soul as he was to hers? 

Another pang of a glitch made her even more uneasy and again she looked back behind her. For a split second she swore amongst the blackness she saw a flash of distant crimson. Why did she feel in the depths of her soul that something was very much wrong? Surely it was just her overly heightened paranoia making her incredibly skittish about the whole situation from when she fled during the night to avoid being arrested for yet another crime that was not her fault. To be honest she was becoming very tired of the sheer persistence of this unknown being who seemingly had taken up refuge in her mind, probably without her awareness even. It might have been her father’s cruelty that had awoken it but now she was determined to ignore the presence to the best of her ability. 

She jumped, wings beating against the ground as dimly she heard what sounded to her like a very familiar chuckle, however it was much lower than she had ever recalled hearing before. Something was definitely wrong now. Every sense of self-preservation she had left was screaming at her to run. It was a hunt and she was the prey. Worse she had no idea where her assailant was coming from or even who it- Actually she suspected by now she knew who it was. There was every possibility that this had been planned from the start with those secretive meetings. It seemed entirely like something Magnus would do. He had been against her from the very beginning. 

From the snow around her, Versila shrunk back, seeing the sudden appearance of a smoky gray mist that slowly swirled around her. She bit back a growl and bolted, taking to the air even as the shadows exploded right underneath her and a large dark figure slammed into her from below, talons tearing against her chest as she screamed. The Other howled in fury, glitching violently to the point where her body contorted and she fell, somehow spinning during her descent and landing on her side in the snow once all the momentum left her and she rolled to a stop. Her wounds stung, already oozing ink that slid down her graying scales as she whimpered and struggled back up on her feet. 

That wasn’t her Nethreis. Not anymore. He was replaced by an unfeeling monster who had caught up to her and would surely attempt to make this mountainside the spot where her life would end. Versila spat out some sparks warningly at him, daring him to try for another strike. Her attacker landed gracefully some feet away after circling around, his gaze little more than a jaded, stone-cold glare of eerily flickering red. It was an utter abyss around her now, all traces of the earlier dusk having proceeded onward into the darkest of night. Had she not been actively trying to gauge how he would respond next, she knew she would have otherwise been seeking out an isolated place to bunker down until dawn rose next. Now she was forbidden even a sliver of a guarantee that she would still be alive to welcome in a new day. Nethreis had yet to address her and that knowledge was growing ever more concerning the longer the silence between them went.  

“Silskiva.” His use of her last name alone made her flinch, the tone so eerily reminiscent of Raymos’s that for a split second she thought maybe somehow her deceased father had found a way to punish her once more out of pure spite. “Versila…. Silskiva.” 

“...Love?” Her voice caught in her throat, barely resisting the urge to retreat away from his imposing presence. “Nethreis… it… it’s me. Your beloved. I know you recognize- Eep!” 

His stance posture shifted, lowering ever so slightly at her words, though not in a sign of recognition. She knew that shift as a conditioned habit of his calculating mind affirming the plan he had decided upon. As he slipped further into a crouch, her breath hitched, stepping back as he bared his stained fangs at her directly. Versila started to turn to run but the Other violently glitched again, forcing her to confront her wayward lover who had not said hardly anything to her since arriving. 

It wasn’t her lunging at him. Versila wanted so desperately to scream at him in warning but she found, to her horror, that she wasn’t seeing through her own eyes anymore. It was as though something had taken all control away from her and she was being forced to watch as Nethreis rose to meet the advance. She tried to stay focused on what was happening but she was strangely suddenly hit with a wave of sheer exhaustion. Going to sleep would be so easy…. He was here, he would keep her safe. Her most precious…. mate.  

How she would be protected under his wings. Protected…. forever.  

[seb-owns-these-tatas]

Lost (B.Barnes) (Pt. 2)

PART 1

Characters: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Warnings: Buck having one of his triggers. Tony being Tony. Steve being Steve. Some Buck and Sam fight as per usual? 😅 But, with his favorite knife involved. Uh-oh. (Btw, I suck at action and there's probably lots of errors and such. 😢😂)

Words: 2,000+

A/N: I feel so loved by you all! THANK YOU! ENJOY THIS SECOND PART OF ‘LOST’! 

Disclaimer: GIF'S and pictures used are not mine. Only the edits are and the oneshot of course. 😉 Credits to the owners of the GIFS.

Tag list for this oneshot: @justlovelifeblog​ @wolfiegal98​ 

"H-Help..please," Dirt, grime and blood. You were covered with bits of glass that scratched your clothed body. Your suit ruined and slashed from the bombing. Everything that happened was too fast, catching you completely off guard.

"Go, Sam. I'll catch up." You shouted, running in a fast pace. Your partner, Sam Wilson flying above you. "Wha-What?!" He did a double take, and before he knew it you were gone in a flash.

"Damn it, Y/N." He uttered through the blue tooth. Flying back towards the Quinjet as he saw Natasha carrying Clint around his waist. All bloody and wounded. Sam could hear your staggering breath turn louder as you run back towards the underground compound. "What are you doing?!"

You huffed, breathing out of your mouth as you saw the little girl whom was trapped inside a small cage who was named Nadia that had a tattoo of a red octopus on her tiny, frail arm. Hydra. "Saving a little girl's childhood, Wilson!"

"Barnes is gonna kill me when you ain't here with me!"

"I can manage, Sam! I'm capable of taking care of myself!"

"Y/N--" The line was getting choppy and so was your eye vision. No. You couldn't faint right now. Not in the middle of a battle. The little girl sobbed harder when the both of you heard the earth rattle above you. "Shh, shh. Don't cry, little one. I've got you,"

"Get out--" Then the line went dead and so was your signal. You grabbed onto the little girl who was sucking her thumb, her violet eyes all red and completely swollen from crying all day.

There was something about Nadia that made you go back.

Thus, it was a huge mistake because there was only a second before the bomb went off.

"C-Cap?" You whispered so quietly that even one single word could pain you inside. Every move that you wish to do was left undone because you were wounded, weak and bleeding as you laid on the rocky ground, holding Nadia in your arms.

The kid was still alive, had a pulse but she definitely fainted from the shock and impact.

"J-James?" The tiny shake of the ground made your broken hopes heal, followed by faded foot steps which made you peacefully enter a different rialm that had Bucky, you and Nadia in it.

The snow made everything difficult for the hunt. Yet, nothing can stop Bucky Barnes when he was in the hunt for you. Especially when he knows you've been bombed and probably wounded or to make his heart shatter..you were already dead without him knowing.

"Barnes," Sam landed with a thud after the three of them did. Barnes couldn't help but scowl as he heard his voice. He was her partner. He trusted her that he'll be with her by hook or by crook but what happened? "You don't get to talk, Wilson."

Bucky unclasped the parachute and dropped it with a loud thud. The scowl turning nastier when he felt Sam walk closer to him. "I couldn't contact her--the signal's been jammed--"

"I trusted you with her, Sam!" He barked back, glaring at the Falcon with a nasty glint in his eyes. Oh, he was in rage. "Jesus Christ! I fucking trusted you with her because you've been her partner since day 1!" Bucky spat with venom in his words. Completely heedless that he was grabbing onto the body of his knife that he kept on his pocket.

Sam was unaware that he was grabbing onto his beloved knife, he was entirely focused on his fiery Steele blue eyes that suddenly turned a shade darker, in a blink of an eye, he could see that the person in front of him wasn't Bucky anymore and that made his heart skip a beat in the most frightening way.

Bucky was entirely kept uncompromised and so they didn't saw how fast he went to attack their co-Avenger, gripping him by the neck with his metal hand that made him growl as he fell on the ground with Bucky's weight on either side of him, tightly clutching onto him like a wild cat. Choking him and wanting nothing more than to stop him from breathing. The sharp tip of his knife right above his pulse, dipping it in the right amount that made it ooze blood.

It wasn't Bucky who was acting all hostile right now and they were all too shocked from the sudden change of character.

"S-Steve...N-Not--" Sam groaned, tugging onto his metal fingers wrapped around his neck. Groaning out the pain he could feel as Bucky was pressing his knife on his pulse, dripping more blood. Every second turning like he was drowning in hell because Bucky was also choking him tighter. "--B-Bucky!"

"Buck, stop!" Steve began to intervene, about to pull him away from his friend Sam but the man in front of him was faster to hit his core with his elbow, making him back away from the impact. "Damn it," Steve muttered beneath his breath and he noted how Tony finally decided to jump in and help after minutes of being awol.

"Language, Rogers." Tony spoke through the intercom, making everyone hear what he said. "Momma' will be so disappointed in you, Capsicle."

Steve could feel him get thrown on the ground, making him whimper. Bucky had him by the neck now, leaving Sam coughing out air as he tried to recover. "You're my mission,"

Tony was flying above the air, trying to search for you as well, however he got too distracted by what Bucky said because he could sense that Bucky wasn't entirely Bucky right now and it made him roll his eyes. "Oh, God. Not this again," Steve screeched from the sudden attack that Bucky did as he was his next target aside from Sam. Everybody who was in his way was like a Bull being taunted with a red cloth in front him. He was in for the kill. His fingers tightened around Steve's neck, using his legs to unstabilize Steve's right hand, pinning them on the ground with his knee that made him cry from how it was insanely twisted.

"It's amusing to watch him murder you, Cap." Tony uttered with amusement. Trying hard not to laugh out. "Damn..you..Tony! He's not...Bucky right...now!"

"I could tell," He mused, slightly chuckling as he watched the fight  from above. "Hey, Natasha--" Tony started, but was immediately cut off with a quick message as Natasha turned the intercom's after. "Not now, Tony. Get them to stop while I find Y/N." Toot.

Well, what a chirper.

Tony sighed, enthusiastically having his best hero landing beside Bucky who was planning to murder his 100 year old best friend. "Manchurian Candidate, step away from the grandpa," Iron man welcomed before he was kicked on the core, making him fly towards a dead tree.

Tony began to gather himself, standing up in a hot second like nothing happened. Guess he wouldn't turn back that easily. "Why do you always have to be so hostile, Barnes?" He asked more to himself, immediately detecting where Bucky was before he came to attack back.

Tony propelled forward till he pushed Bucky away from Steve. Bucky instantly rolled on the ground with an angry growl that made the snowy ground shake.

"Cap, will you do the honor? Or you're still going to be a little pissy because I basically ruined your moment with your best friend?"

Steve gathered himself, standing up from the ground and helping Sam go up on his feet, lending a helpful hand to pull his friend up. Tony eyed Bucky who seemed to had the 'I'm going to murder you' gaze that made him cuss in the back of his genius mind. "He's not stopping," He stated the obvious. Glancing back at Steve and Sam who were dusting the cold snow off their clothes. "Bucky, you gonna stop or??"

Apparently, Steve sounded so unamused. "He's not gonna stop, Tony."

"And you're letting him kill me next?"

Bucky was marching towards his way, grudgingly marching towards the man of Iron while stretching his metal arm that made a satisfying sound. Tony rolled his eyes, feeling the fatigue hit him hard. They were battling for days and now they didn't need another one of Bucky's triggered, Winter Soldier phases. "Christ. I'm blasting him off to bring him back,"

"Tony--" Steve started, stretching his twisted, slightly injured wrist, yet he was too late to react.

"Yep. Totally blasting him off."

He brought his armoured hands halfway, the familiar sound of his blasters turning on. "No--"

"Sleepy-bye, Barnes." His target turned red, and before Steve knew it. Tony just blasted his best friend off out in the air, making Bucky fall inside a hill full of snow that made him blackout. Well, he'll wake up any time soon. So, it was definitely not a problem.

"Yeet."

He heard a loud sigh came from Sam's place and Tony knew it was Steve and he was trying his hardest not to give him a little of his scolding. "Precautionary measures, Cap." Tony quickly saved himself from the long scolding from the famous Captain America. "Atleast, I didn't blast his robotic arm off,"

"Tony," Sam begun to start for Steve, and Tony opened his mask to see them face to face. He had a ridiculous look that made the both of them shook their heads in disappointment. "What? What was I supposed to do?!" Tony responded, pointing towards where Bucky flew and it was only a few meters away from them. "He was giving me the murder gaze!"

Steve tried to turn on his intercoms, tapping his ear as he tried calling out for Natasha. About to ask where she was because she was suddenly gone in a flash. "Nat?"

Tony decided to answer for him. "She turned the blue tooth off. Noting that I finish your kiddie games with Barnes and Noble over there." They could hear somebody's feet scratching the snowy ground, in their peripheral vision. The three Avengers could see a metal armed man lying prone on the cold, hard ground.

He stood up on his own, groaning at the same time as he grudgingly dragged his feet to where they were. A skeptical look on their heroic faces. "What the hell?" Bucky rasped, his head pounding from the fall. "What happened?"

"You were being the terminator again, Barnes." Tony answered for the three of them. "Oh, God. Was I?"

Their intercoms went static, it screeched that made the group of heroic walking testorerone wince from the sound. Something was bugging up their connection from Natasha.

"Nat?" Bucky decided to talk through the static connection, ceasing once he did.

"Winter was triggered that your princess was hurt, Barnes." Natasha breathed through the intercoms, her breathing loud before it quickly faded and turned normal. "Never worry, though." She added lightheartedly, "Cause I already have her in my arms,"

She promptly stood up from her position, as she knelt beside you a while ago. Caressing your bloody hair with pity and dread. "But she isn't in a very good condition," She spoke through the intercom, sounding like she was in a hurry.

"As well as this kid,"

Bucky's heart fell because he knew Natasha wasn't exaggerating and he'll be facing the consequences once you'll be brought back to the headquarters.

It will be one heck of a consequence that could break Bucky's healing soul.

TELL ME WHAT YA THINK ABOUT THIS ONE SHOT, TATER TOTS! THE FIRST PART IS LOCATED AT THE VERY TOP OF THIS ONE SHOT! I’VE INCLUDED THE LINK THERE! THANK YOU FOR ALL THE SUPPORT TATER TOTS!

XOXO, TATA  ❤💕

[thinking-outside-the-giftbox18]

Striped Carnations and Anemones

Summary:  This was my personal idea of an alternate ending: What if Robin escaped but becomes the Snatcher anyways? Also a sympathetic approach to Queen Vanessa, but doesn't change the fact that she literally froze a kingdom.

I have posted this story on Archive of Our Own, incase anyone wants to check it out: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25423690

The cellar grows cold each passing day, or was it a week… or month...maybe longer? Prince Robin would’ve guessed immediately if it wasn’t for his hands going numb to tally off an hour as his arms hung from the chains. But nevertheless, he no longer can care about his body as it is going to expire anytime right now. He had guessed why his beloved would make such decisions, but it was no excuse for her to go insane...He can still hear the children scream as the ice captured them like a rapid plague. If only he had saved them, they are like his own children. Robin hung his head low, wanting to give up the ghost, yet something told him that he doesn't want to die like this...If he ever dies, it should not be in the cellar that was turned into a makeshift dungeon. He wants to be back outside to the forest, an odd choice to draw out your final breath but all he wanted was to see the stars…

"Ummph…!!" Was what he let out when the rusty chains broke, letting him fall to the ground. The cuffs are still on both his back arms, but he can move them a bit, which means…He looks up to see a torch that hasn't been lightened…'This place needs to be a bit warm.' Robin thought and like on command, the torch was set ablaze and the cellar took on a golden hue...but the Prince felt something else warm up in his body, it was what he had felt after crying for a very long time. He turned to leave the cellar, his body was weak but the fire in him helped as he walked up the stairs and out the cellar basement.

In the living room, the green wallpaper dulled when the darkness engulfed the manor, the only light there was near the portrait of her and her Prince, but it was dim. Vanessa played on the piano, remembering her lessons her mother had forced her to practice every single day when she was a little girl, then she smiled when she remembered how her Prince would surprise her with a duet as he played the violin. It made her horrible memories go away, she swayed with her fingers that played a love song that had a somber tone. Then the door behind her opened, she turned and expected that it was the wind who blew it open, no...It was her Prince. He looked directly at her, his Queen, just as she wanted it to be. Vanessa couldn't be happier as she waltzed her way and embraced her beloved Prince, "I miss you, My Prince~ Now we can be together forever~" she whispered softly to him like it was a secret, she rested her head on his chest, not minding his clothing that was slightly chilly and picking up dust. Her Prince looked down at her and gave a soft smile, "'Forever' you say, My Queen?~" he asked in a tone that would make her melt. Vanessa nodded her head, nuzzling her cheek against her Prince's disheveled cravat, she sighed when he placed a hand to stroke her darkened blonde hair on her head. She was drawn to his embrace even more.

"...I don't love you anymore." So calmly Robin said as he pulled himself away from Vanessa, who looked up at her Prince alarmed. He looked down at her with his amber-gold eyes, she saw no emotion, no glint of happiness or love...not even anger, that Robin hid well. "You're bluffing...you always tell odd jokes…!" Vanessa tries to reason while in denial, her Prince? He doesn't love her anymore? That's preposterous! She chuckled and giggled but she was the only one laughing, Robin kept staring at her blankly with a serious aura. Vanessa's ruby eyes gleamed in fear, "My...My Prince...Why…? Why don't you love me…?? What have I done that made you feel that way?" She then remembered why he was chained up, her eyes scowled, and prepared her claws to permanently keep her Prince for herself once and for all. "Was it that red-head who sold flowers?!! Did she change your mind?? Are you falling for her while you're engaged to me??! ...Explain yourself, Prince!!" She can only scream in the empty living room at Robin. He took her clawed hands calmly, keeping his sights on her, "Why would I love you when you destroyed our home…?" Vanessa's face went blank, she looked at Robin like a deer in front of the hunter. Now that he mentioned it, she might have done minor damage around the Subcon Manor after what had happened. Robin let go of her hands and folded his arms sternly, he had never done that gesture in front of Vanessa as he narrowed his eyes at her. She tries to come up with a reason "...Because I love you so much and was willing to fix what we had accidentally destro-!" Robin raised his hand to interrupt her, "I'm sorry, ' We '? I don't remember allowing you to turn our citizens to ice sculptures. And I definitely was absent when the kingdom was, how you put it, 'accidentally' destroyed…!" He controlled his volume to not scream at her, he wanted to express how distraught he truly was at her, yet he remained calm again.

Robin and Vanessa were both silent, Vanessa had now seen what she had done, "I was...I...You arrived days after Mother's-" she was interrupted again, "I knew. I knew that you needed me after her passing, that was why I had put a hold on my studies just to comfort you...I knew that you were scared of suddenly being the Queen without me being by your side. That is why I would still call you 'My Princess', so that once I am back to stay, I'll help you get ready...I was a fool who was deeply in love with you." He wanted to cry as his heart kept breaking, Vanessa wanted to comfort him but she couldn't, "My...My Prince...I am truly sorry for hurting you."

"You did more than just hurt me, my dear... You killed me. " Robin stated as he looked dead at Vanessa's ruby eyes. Her jaw dropped, how could her Prince say that?! "P-Prince…?!" She exclaimed, but was ignored by Robin. "I never thought that you would do this to not just me, you killed my love for you, you killed what was left of our dying affection...and you killed our home, the kingdom we were meant to protect...just for someone you didn't entirely know...How cruel are you exactly, Queen Vanessa?" Robin addressed Vanessa with such poison that it made her wince.

"Better yet, you are the Queen, have you always seen me as your prince rather than a king?? Do you even remember my name?" The last question was meant to be a cold joke, but when he saw Vanessa's widened eyes as she covered her mouth with her claws, she wasn't fooling around.

"You...You really have no idea who I am…" He numbly said as he bowed his head down, he realized that there was truly no hope to save what was left. He didn't hear Vanessa's efforts to comfort him as she tried to get closer to him, she kept calling him as "Her Prince" and at times "Her King" as if that can make him feel better. Robin looked up at her tear-stained face, she felt truly sorry for what she had done and repeatedly asked for his forgiveness. Suddenly, there was a soft low chuckling from the Prince as he kept his head down but his body shook with the sound. Vanessa jolted back when Robin's soft chuckle turned into a full-blown hearty cackle, she had found his "normal" laugh unnerving. He laughed extremely hard that tears streamed down his cheek, just the sight of her Prince in utter despair made Vanessa's heart ache.

Robin calmed his laughter and wiped off his tears, he looked at his now-former lover with an unsettling calm smile before turning to exit the room. Vanessa followed him to the manor's main door, wondering where he was going to. "My Prince…?" Robin ignored her again when she asked quietly, as he then opened the doors. Heavy gusts of icy winds blew directly at his face and he remained apathetic, it was when he took one step out the door did Vanessa had started to panic. She grabbed his arm tightly, "Don't leave!!! Please don't!!" She had begged him to reconsider, but she looked up and saw his piercing gold eyes one last time, glaring directly at her soul...silent with concealed rage, a growl before a bite.

She fearfully lets go of his arm and watches him shakingly walk through the snowy storms, away from what was once their home. He crossed his arms close to his chest to retain his remaining warmth and kept his small smile despite the warm tears continuing to fall to the snow. He didn't stop when the winds had gotten worse, or when he heard his Vanessa roar in self-loathing, followed by a big bang from the manor doors closing. He doesn't want to stop just yet, he knows when to stop when he gets there.

It was a miracle that her frost curse didn't reach the forest, it remained untouched with the sound of crickets and the calm rustling of the leaves. Robin felt serene and looked up at the sky, thankful to see the stars one last time. He knelt down and rested his body on a patch of dirt and grass, ready to join the restless nature and those whose lives were snuffed out. But yet, he had a small thought, 'If only I had lived longer...What can I do if I remain free...after all this time…?' He chuckled to himself breathlessly before...

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A masked soul wandered around the forest as they tried to look for their friends, they were fine with the fact that the forest wasn't covered in spikes of ice or blocks of snow. But they didn't expect the inmost part of it to be in flames, they almost surrounded the soul, it wasn't scared yet they felt like they were watched, so they felt paranoid instead. They turned back to where they entered from, only for a wall of fire to appear, trapping the soul inside, now they are aware that someone or something knew of their trespassing. Then a pair of gold eyes appeared in front of the soul through the fire along with a wide eerie smile that made the soul freeze in their place. The next thing the soul knows is darkness, shades of amethyst and violet surround their vision, they shake in fear as they start to see snake-like phantoms from a distance, who watch the soul with blank glowing eyes. The masked soul was no longer in the forest but in a supernatural plane where the ground is not visible and the exit above is non-existent.

A dark rumbling voice spoke out, "Why, hello there~ Are you lost, young one?~" he said with a low purr from behind the soul, who turned and met the yellow glowing eyes of a dark apparition who towered over them. The eyes behind the soul's mask shrink and cower because of the apparition's wicked smile. "Now do not fret. I too was lost, but I don't want to be found...or else, I would get hungry~" He remarked with a dark chuckle, eyeing the small soul with a tinge of hunger, scaring them more. 'Poor thing...they can't remember how they got lost…~' He thought before getting an idea, "I'll tell you what. I am in need of souls to build a little place where you can feel safe from the cold. I had witnessed the Queen's powers and how it damaged my forest...Safe to say, I was more than furious." He stated while extending a boneless arm. The masked soul looked at him confused and watched his clawed hand get set ablaze with blue flames, only to disappear and be replaced with a rolled-up scroll. The taller ghost leaned to the soul and rolled out the scroll, letting the lost soul read it. "As written in this piece of paper: I would need your lost friends as well, and I would make each one of you all a body so that we'll start making a place you'll call 'home'... Do we have a deal?~" The ghost asked the soul as his eyes and grin glow together.

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Notes: I am working on an AHIT AU fanfic series, but I want to show you how I am as a writer because I enjoy making stories as much as I like to doodle a lot. I headcanon the Prince's name as "Robin", just in case you're wondering why he's not named "Lukas". So this is basically a surprise quick story before setting the stage. If you want to find me, I'm on Ao3 , Twitter, DA and YouTube.So please, leave your thoughts on this fanfic and not half-a!@ed insults/compliments. -Giftbox

P.S. I also headcanon that Prince Robin would later learn Flower language as an indirect way of expressing his true feelings when he became The Snatcher. Hence, the title.

[lady-divine-writes]

The Prince of the Sea and his Child of Fire - Chapter 11/15 (Rated NC17)

Summary: Blaine is a water sprite, prince of the undersea kingdom and sole heir to the throne. Five days away from turning seventeen and his big coronation, he decides to take a journey to the surface, to seek out a legendary flame said to be tended by an evil witch. Instead of a witch, he finds something else entirely ...

Kurt is a fire fairy, prince of a race of fire fairies and heir to the throne. Five days away from turning seventeen (on the night of a full solar eclipse when he will transform and become king), he sees for the first time in his life a water sprite - a member of a race that he's been raised to hate.

What will happen when these two mortal enemies fall in love? Is there any way for them to escape destiny and be together?

Read on AO3

Chapter 11

Kurt rushes for the cove at break-neck speed in search of the flame to warm him, but he doesn’t feel its fire reaching out for him. He calls to it with his mind, tries to picture it dancing happily on its branch, but for all his beckoning, he hears nothing.

If Kurt didn’t know better, he would think the Eternal Flame had gone out.

He looks to the horizon when he feels the coming dawn wash over the underside of the world. He has to get back. He has to take over the flame from his sister and get Blaine deep enough below the water to escape the daylight. Then he has to try and convince his mother that an army of water sprites is planning to attack, and try to persuade her not to destroy every living thing in the ocean to evade them.

If he can accomplish all of that in the limited hours he has left before the eclipse, then he would deserve to be king.

Blaine stops to get his bearings, glancing up at Kurt to see if the fairy is any better off than before. Kurt’s skin is still snowy white, much paler than his normal pink pastel hue, and his lips look frighteningly blue. Kurt smiles when he catches Blaine’s gaze, showing his sprite that he need not fear for his safety.

It doesn’t work. There’s a panic in Kurt’s eyes that he can’t stamp down.

Kurt would have nothing to fear if he could just feel the Eternal Flame’s warmth again. They aren’t all that far from the cove now. It should overwhelm him with it’s heat from this close distance, with joy at his return, relief for how much it’s missed him.

Why is it not calling out to him?

“When we get back to shore, we need to check on Rachel first,” Kurt calls down to Blaine, clenching his teeth to keep them from chattering. “I need to make sure she’s okay.”

“Don’t worry,” Blaine yells back, giving Kurt a reassuring wink. “I’m sure she’s fine. After all, she never lit the leaves to signal you.”

“I know. Still, I’ll feel better knowing she’s okay.”

“Of course, my love.” Blaine dives beneath the swells and takes off toward land. Kurt flies after him, not willing to let the water sprite get the upper hand. He laughs and loop-de-loops in the air, allowing himself this time to relax while they’re alone over the ocean where he can convince himself that, for the moment, everything isn’t in mortal danger. He dares a bob down toward the water, reaching in to tug at Blaine’s hair. Blaine flips onto his back and laughs, thoroughly enjoying Kurt’s company.

He misses Trent. He misses his kingdom. To a degree, he misses his father.

But everything is careening out of control too fast, and Blaine has no foreseeable future to savor with Kurt, so he makes sure to keep these moments close to his heart and remember them, come what may.

Blaine sees Kurt hold his arms tight to his body, beating his fragile silvery wings against the ocean breeze, eyes fixed on the shoreline. He wants to stop again and tell Kurt everything is all right, but he knows Kurt won’t be settled until they reach the flame. They’re approaching the cove at quite a clip, and soon Kurt will have his reassurance – his sister back in his arms and the fire to warm his skin.

They reach the cove, and Kurt hurries to the branch, basking in the glow of the orange flame.

“Ahhh, thank goodness,” Blaine hears him mutter, rubbing his hands up and down his drenched skin, shaking off his wet wings and sighing as the water evaporates with the heat.

Blaine jumps over the log and into the pool, paddles cautiously over to Kurt. Something doesn’t feel right in the cove, but Blaine can’t seem to put his finger on it.

“Kurt?” he calls when the fairy disappears behind the flame. “Where’s Rachel?”

“I don’t know,” Kurt’s voice comes back. “She should be here. But that’s not the only weird thing.”

“What?” Blaine asks, climbing up onto the branch.

“The fire …” Kurt walks into view “… it doesn’t feel the same.”

“What do you mean? What doesn’t feel the same?”

“It doesn’t want to listen to me.” Kurt reaches out to call to it. It sputters stubbornly before complying, but not as enthusiastically as it has times before. “I don’t understand it.”

“Is there a chance that this is a new flame?�� Blaine sits back, trailing his feet in the pool with his eyes to the sky when something beyond the cover of clouds catches his attention.

“I … I guess so.” Kurt tries one more time to get the flame to behave. “But, I don’t see how. No one’s here. If my mother knew I was gone, she’d be here waiting for me.”

“Kurt …” Blaine’s golden eyes peer off behind Kurt’s head “… I think your mother knows ...”

“What?” Kurt follows Blaine’s eyeline. The clouds part, and the cove fills with a white light from above. Blaine puts his arms up over his face to hide from its oppressive brightness. Fire fairies drop from the sky and the trees all around. A swarm circles Blaine, but Kurt reaches him before they do and blocks him from their flaming spears.

“Don’t touch him!” Kurt commands. A few fairies back down. A few more conflicted fairies stand their ground, weapons raised.

“My Queen!” he hears a cry go out. “He’s here! The prince! We’ve found him!”

“Kurt!” His mother’s voice echoes as she approaches the cove. “I’m so glad to see that you’re safe! I thought for sure you had been kidnapped and dragged into the water!”

Elizabeth shrinks her bodily form and lands on the grass, pushing through the ring of guards surrounding the couple, thrilled to see her son back alive.

“After what happened to Rachel, I …“

She looks at the two standing before her. It takes her a moment to realize that the fairy standing behind her son is wingless. She glares at him, the smile dropping from her face. “You! You’re the water sprite responsible, aren’t you? You attacked my daughter! You kidnapped my son!”

“No!” Kurt cries.

Elizabeth’s eyes widen at the exclamation of her son.

“I didn’t attack anyone,” Blaine says calmly. “Please, let me explain …”

But Elizabeth isn’t listening, her ears ringing as she looks them over, her eyes falling on their joined hands, on Kurt’s body shielding the water sprite standing behind him.

“You … you were with him?” Elizabeth asks, her voice becoming dangerously quiet. “This is the one you love?”

“Mother,” Kurt starts, “I can explain ...”

“You were with him,” Elizabeth repeats, pointing an accusing finger in Kurt’s face. “You left your post, and your sister, to go off with him?”

“You don’t understand,” Kurt says.

“Your majesty …” Blaine steps to Kurt’s side, bowing low “… I am Blaine, and yes, I come from the kingdom beneath the sea, but I am here to deliver you a warning.”

“Warn me?” Elizabeth makes herself larger, highly offended at being addressed by a lowly water creature. And warned? Who was he to threaten her, the most powerful fairy on the planet!?

“My father, King Malek, is planning to attack,” Blaine continues, hoping to make Elizabeth hear him before she does anything rash. “You must prepare. You must do what you can to protect your subjects.”

Elizabeth’s eyes snap from Blaine’s face to Kurt’s – Blaine standing boldly in the face of his adversary, Kurt looking like he wants to dig a hole into the earth and hide. Elizabeth’s emotions clash and swell within her, unsure what to do with any of them. The ringing in her ears grows louder. Does she admire Blaine for his bravery? Does she detest her son for his show of cowardice? Does she kill them both where they stand for being traitors?

She can’t calm the tide within her long enough to decide.

“Lock them up!” Elizabeth yells, raising her arms and sending a storm of guards descending upon Blaine and Kurt. “My son to his room, and this one …” Her mouth curls fiendishly as the idea comes to her “… to the bower in the meadow.”

“No!” Kurt screams, scrabbling through the guards to reach Blaine, clawing at the faces of fairies who once protected him, fighting against those who avowed their lives to him. “No, you can’t! Mother! It’s only a few hours till sunrise! If you leave him there, he’ll die!”

Kurt catches Blaine eyes, the brave sprite holding himself straight and tall with his arms barred behind his back, not struggling to be free or begging for mercy.

“Then that should make negotiations go that much smoother,” Elizabeth says.

“Negotiations? Negotiations with whom?” Kurt watches with growing dread as the guards drag Blaine to his prison in the meadow, in a spot where the trees form a cone directly to the sky, funneling the light in when the sun reaches its apogee. “Negotiations with King Malek? Not a one of us can travel below water! We have no ambassadors among the creatures of the sea! How in the world do you intend to reach him!?”

“No.” Elizabeth turns from her son and returns to the flame. “Negotiations with you.”

 ***

The guards escort Kurt back to the palace, and for the first time in his life, his people jeer at him. They yell at him. They curse at him. The fairies are a collective, a hive following the direction of their queen. Elizabeth has called out to her subjects with her mind and sent explicit instructions for those gathered who see her son to sneer at him.

“Traitor!” they call him. “Disgrace!”

“You are the reason our beloved princess is gone!” a voice cries out. “You are the reason Princess Rachel is dead!”

Kurt hears their words, and his heart shatters.

“Rachel is … dead?” he chokes. “No! Please!” He pleads with the guards around him. “Please tell me it isn’t true! She can’t be dead! She can’t be!” He’d seen her not too long ago, held her in his arms. She can’t be gone! She can’t be!

But the guards don’t talk to him. They don’t offer him any comfort. They continue treating him coldly, disaffected, ignoring his cries. They bring him to his room and lock him inside, a single guard staying behind to make sure he doesn’t escape.

Kurt sinks to the floor behind the locked door and begins to weep.

Rachel is dead.

His favorite sister gone.

And in a few hours, the love of his life will be, too.

After that, it won’t matter what happens to him.

King or not, he may as well walk into the sea.

 ***

Kurt keeps vigil by the window when he feels the sunlight creep closer. This shouldn’t be happening. This isn’t the way Blaine is supposed to die, not when he tried so hard to do the noble thing. He deserves better than to burn to death, trapped in a cage without anyone there to comfort him.

Once Kurt calms his nerves enough to think, he tries to figure a way out of his prison, but there is none. Little by little, more guards join the first. They station themselves by his door and outside his window till they are his only view every time he looks out. The only way through that he can see is to rush the guards and hope for the best.

Just as he’s about to do something desperate, his door unlocks and slides open.

The first guard steps in, straight-backed and severe. “The queen wants to see you.”

 ***

Kurt sees the ocean start to turn golden with the promise of sunlight on the horizon and he swallows hard.

Oh, please, he pleads in his head. Gods who look after the creatures of the sea, keep him safe. Extend your reach to your son trapped on land. Don’t let him die.

The first thing Kurt sees as he and his armed guards approach the cove is his mother looming above, empowered by her rage, and Kurt begins to lose all hope. Filled from head to toe with this much hate, she will be impossible to convince. Kurt’s heart begins to wither.

He has already lost a sister. He can’t stand to watch his love die.

They enter the cove and Kurt’s eyes find Blaine cramped inside a prison made entirely of twisted roots springing from the earth. Guards armed with flaming spears surround him. They leer at the refugee sprite, taunt him, and on behalf of his own people, Kurt feels deeply ashamed. Kurt lands on the grass, soft and damp beneath his feet. Water. Blaine is lying on a bed of water, however sparse, and Kurt is grateful for that one small favor.

Kurt tries to make his way to Blaine, but the guards rush to block his path, their faces impassive. Kurt looks into their indifferent eyes and knows that they won’t be moved by any appeal from him. He has been stripped of his power and his dignity - his place of purpose among his people.

Kurt turns to his mother, ready to make a last-ditch attempt to stop this madness while knowing in his heart that arguing with his queen is futile.

This is the other side of the coin. This is his mother with her compassion gone.

“Let him go, Mother,” Kurt says, speaking for once in a tone commanding and regal, one his mother had always hoped for but had yet to hear.

Elizabeth raises an eyebrow, momentarily impressed, but it passes quickly. “No.”

“There is a war coming! He was only trying to help, to warn us, to save our kingdom!”

Elizabeth tilts her head on her shoulders and trains her gaze toward the sunrise.

The delight in her eyes at the rising sun sends a chill through Kurt’s body.

Kurt knew his mother was a force to be reckoned with, but he never knew that she was a heartless killer.

“Why are you determined to see him dead, Mother?” Kurt asks, gritting his teeth, trying to keep anxiety at bay to think clearly. “Because he is our enemy, or because by falling in love with him, I hurt your pride?”

That gets her attention, and she turns fiercely on her son.

“What were you going to do, Kurt? Huh?” Elizabeth asks in a mocking tone. “Were you going to run away together? Where did you think you two could go that I wouldn’t find you? Where on earth could you live out of the water and away from the sun?”

“There is a star …” Kurt prepares to explain about the field of flowers that bloom only during the eclipse, whose pods would take them into the heavens, but mentioning the star is all he need do. The way his mother’s face blanches, Kurt knows it’s true. The star exists.

And his mother knows it.

“How?” Elizabeth asks, pausing to word her question carefully. “How do you think you know about such a star?”

“A sea turtle told us,” Kurt admits, keeping the turtle’s name a secret in case his mother goes searching for vengeance, “about a star where fire and water can exist together in peace. A star where Blaine and I can start a new life, since you and his father seem dead set on destroying all life here.”

His mother shrinks a hair, her skin returning to a cooler hue. The look in her eyes is unreadable, which frightens Kurt.

He can hear the morning start its song. He’s running out of time.

“The turtle is mistaken, you foolish child!” Elizabeth roars, her skin turning a deeper red than before. “There is no star, no place where you two can exist together in peace, so forget about all of that! You are not going anywhere with the water sprite! You are staying here and you will be king! You will defeat our enemy, and the fire fairies will rule over this world as they were meant to from the beginning!”

“I love him!” Kurt yells, reaching out, longing for a touch of Blaine’s hand.

“He’s one of them!” Elizabeth screams. “He’s the enemy, and by siding with him, that makes you a traitor!”

“I love him!” Kurt repeats.

“You can’t love him!” Elizabeth counters. “I forbid it!”

“You used to love one of them!” Kurt yells. “Or don’t you remember?” Elizabeth furrows her brow, but her face goes from red to pink as she starts to understand – the secret she had kept from her children for so many years, now known. “Malek?” Kurt says the name with sourness on his tongue. “Your other half? “ He shakes his head in despair at his mother. “Why did you not tell me?”

“Kurt,” Elizabeth says, making herself bigger, “that is none of your affair.”

“None of my affair?” Kurt’s body trembles in anger. “Soon the armies of the water sprites will be on our shores, and it is none of my affair? The one that you loved so dearly that you lived as a single entity for eons has declared war on our kingdom with his blind hatred – a hatred you share - and it’s none of my affair? You are turning the mantle of king over to me on the eve of war, and it’s none of my affair?”

“Kurt,” she says, growing even larger, “this is the last time I warn you.” Fairies around them fly for cover, but her size and booming voice no longer intimidate Kurt, who stares at her with the desolate mask of one betrayed.

“No, Mother!” Kurt pushes the guards aside as they back away from their terrifying queen. Kurt puts a hand on the roots of the bower that keeps Blaine trammeled inside. “This is the last time I listen to your lies! I refuse to become king! Keep your rule and keep your hate! This ends with me …” Kurt looks at Blaine, kneeling in his cage “… and him.”

Blaine reaches out a hand through the roots and laces their fingers together, smiling in a weak attempt at giving Kurt courage, but his golden eyes speak his feelings of hopelessness and regret. Elizabeth watches them, her fury igniting with each touch of her son’s fingers of the water sprite’s skin.

“You will go, son. You will meet the eclipse as you were meant to. You will become king and you will win this war …” Elizabeth raises her hand, filling it with flame “… or I will not wait for the sun. I will burn your beloved myself!”

“No!” Kurt blocks the cage with his own body, but as small as the prison is, Kurt’s body is so much smaller, and he is not sure he can control his mother’s flame. “You can’t!”

“Someone has yet to pay for what happened to your sister,” Elizabeth growls, the flame covering her hand growing red with her anger. “Shall it be him?”

Kurt looks from his mother’s eyes, full of a rage such as he has never seen before, to the water sprite shivering in his cage – hands curled over the bars, pulling at them with all his strength, helpless and frightened. Kurt feels the sun cresting the horizon, feels his own rage turn to sorrow.

“No …” Kurt’s gaze returns to his mother’s eyes “… it shall be me. Let him go, and I will do what you demand. I will not fight you.”

“No!” Blaine yells. “No, Kurt! Don’t!”

“Release him, then I will take my place as king,” Kurt says over Blaine’s protests. “I will fight your war … and I will never see Blaine again.”

Elizabeth extinguishes the flame with a grim smile of triumph.

“Done.” She snaps her fingers and the guards re-appear.

“No, Kurt!” Blaine cries. “Don’t!”

Kurt takes a deep breath - a steadying breath, a breath to give him all the strength in the universe - then looks at Blaine. The sprite shakes his head, reaching out an arm to touch his fairy prince.

“No,” Blaine pleads. “Don’t.” Blaine’s defeated expression is an image Kurt doesn’t want to be left with - his love, his courageous prince, finally beginning to crumble. “Don’t do this. Don’t leave me.”

“I’m sorry.” Kurt bites his lip to keep from breaking down. “I love you too much. I have no other choice.”

[shirtlesssammy]

1x13: Route 666

Then:

Moody Male Modeling Sons of Bitches

Now:

On a lonely stretch of road in Cape Girardeau, Missouri, a man in a sedan is aggressively pursued by a Racist Ghost Truck™. The Racist Ghost Truck™ seems to just disappear and the man continues on his way --until the Racist Ghost Truck™ is RIGHT IN FRONT OF HIM. 

The Racist Ghost Truck™ chases the man off the road … and disappears. 

At the local Gas-n-Sip generic gas station, Sam’s looking at old school paper maps to track their next case when Dean tells him they’re taking a detour to Missouri. He got a call from “an” “old” “friend” that her father was killed.

On the drive, Sam ribs Dean in a most delightful way. He wants to know the nature of this friendship. Her name’s Cassie (OOOO00000OOOOO), they dated for a couple of weeks, and she knows what Sam and Dean do because Dean told her. That boy is so soft. It breaks my fucking heart. 

Sam and Dean arrive at the Cape Girardeau newspaper, where Cazzie Cassie and her father’s friend are getting told what they can and cannot put in the paper. Ugh, it seems her father isn’t the only victim to die on that stretch of road. 

Cassie turns to find Sam and Dean (and much like a more recent and beloved Cas in season 12) she doesn’t seem to register that Sam is there at all and sighs, “Dean.” Sam’s smirk watching them together says it all. 

For Sam Knows™ Science:

This hardcore Destiel stan has a soft spot for Cassie right now. 

That night at Cassie’s mom’s house, she fills the brothers in on what’s been happening. Her dad has been seeing the Racist Ghost Truck™; there were tracks leading right to where her father’s car went off the road, and the first person killed was her father’s best friend. Cassie’s skeptical of what Sam and Dean do but she needs their help. 

<Insert another Racist Ghost Truck™ murder>

Cassie’s father’s friend is the latest victim. Cassie’s at the scene of the crime arguing with the mayor. She wants the stretch of road closed. She makes it clear that if the victims were white, the road would be closed. (Uh, sadly, yeah.) 

Later, at their motel, Sam decides to rib Dean a little more about his relationship with Cassie. MY GOD IS IT FUN. Dean, ofc, wants to drop this nonsense, but Sam, please continue. 

The brothers head out to investigate as insurance agents (DEAN, bby, knot your tie just a tad neater plz). They ask some guys about the Racist Ghost Truck™ and surprise, surprise, the black guy’s heard of it. The Racist Ghost Truck™  goes way back to the 1960s it seems. 

The boys put it together that they’re dealing with a Racist Ghost Truck™ and Dean agrees to go talk to Cassie. Sam suggests he also talk to her about the “serious unfinished business” between them as well. Dean admits that things were pretty serious with her. Sam just stares. 

Dean gets defensive and Sam realizes that Dean loved her. He was in love with Cassie but he dumped her. Dean doesn’t deny a thing. Sam realizes that she dumped him. OUCH. “Get in the car.” Classic Dean “I’m NOT going to talk about it” Winchester. (See 10x05 for further explanation.)

That night, Dean shows up at Cassie’s. They awkwardly talk, plastered to opposing pillars in the living room. 

Cassie calls Dean out on his emotional constipation. Dean calls her out on dumping him when he was open with her. AND OMG, Cassie dumped him because she thought he was going to dump her.

CUE MAKE OUT TIME. 

CUE MORE THAN MAKE OUT TIME.

CUE ME BEING MAD THAT I’M WATCHING THIS ON NETFLIX AND THE MUSIC IS NOT RIGHT. 

(LBR, for narrative symmetry, we’ll need Dean in a similar scene with another “Cas” in season 15 to finish the show, right?) 

The mayor is hanging out on the dreaded stretch of road looking at some killer blueprints. He seems pretty pleased with himself and heads to his car. Before he can even get in his car, the Racist Ghost Truck™ runs him off the road. 

Post-coital Dean and Cassie are enjoying a moment. (Natasha: what this episode lacks in plot has always been made up for me by these two #soft)

For This is a Rare Scene Science:

Cassie hints they could have a second chance. Dean says that he’s still involved with his “dad’s work.” Interrupting Moose interrupts their peaceful moment. 

Dean meets Sam on a suddenly snowy day (shakes fist at Vancouver) to investigate the Mayor’s death. The guy was crushed - as though by a large vehicle - but there were no tracks. 

At the newspaper office, Cassie and Dean sip hot beverages together and nestle in front of the warm glow of a cathode ray computer monitor.

Sam calls with property record information. The property where the Mayor died used to belong to someone named Dorian. Dorian went missing in the sixties, around the time of the first string of murders. As soon as the Mayor bought the property, he bulldozed the old house that was on it. Mysteriously. 

Dean and Cassie check the news; the first killing happened the day after the Dorian house got flattened. 

Cassie gets home and wanders her house pensively, when the lights begin to flicker. Outside the Racist Ghost Truck™ revs its engines. This ghost is just the fucking worst. It terrorizes Cassie, who calls Dean. 

Cut to a little while later and a debrief in the living room. Sam asks Cassie’s mom about her husband’s sighting of the truck before he died. She prevaricates but Dean presses her, telling her that Cassie’s life is on the line. HER LIFE, LADY! He can’t date her if she’s dead, okay?

Mrs. Robinson pins Cyrus Dorian as the owner of the truck. But he couldn’t have run anybody over...he died over 40 years ago. Dean, always so quick, catches the error. Dorian was reported missing, not dead. 

Cassie’s mom immediately confesses. When they were young, Dorian was jealous of her relationship with her soon-to-be husband Martin. Black men started to “disappear.” (I tell her that her relationship with her husband had nothing to do with this guy being a racist, murdering shit-bag.) When she and Martin got married, they decided to skip the church last minute and elope instead. The church was set on fire that day, killing a bunch of kids. Not too long after that, Dorian attacked Martin and would have killed him, except Martin got the upper hand and killed him instead. 

Dean, I love you but you are a fool for this next question: “Why didn’t you call the cops?” Mrs. Robinson schools him with her glare. 

Martin and two of his friends put Dorian into the truck and pushed the whole thing into the swamp. When the then-deputy (now the Mayor) discovered their secret, he buried it because he also knew all the murders that Dorian had committed.

Outside, Sam talks to Dean about what EVEN is his life investigating a case like this? They hang a lampshade on the premise of a killer ghost truck, before moving on to talking about how to stop the ghost. They’ll need to dig up Dorian’s body and burn it. 

Cassie heads outside. Her mom’s asleep and she is ready to kick some dead racist ass! Dean orders her to stay at home, though, because Dean is NO FUN. They kiss. Sam clears his throat in an obnoxious fashion. Witness Interrupting!Sam coming into his power, friends!

At the Dorian property, Dean drives a bulldozer and they drag the truck out of the swamp. The guys pull out the body, salt and burn it, and call it done. In the distance the ghost truck revs its engine. 

Dean recognizes the situation for the perfect opportunity for a drag race that it is, and tells Sam to figure out a way to burn the sopping wet (real) truck. Meanwhile, he’s gonna lead ghost truck on a merry chase through the countryside. 

Cue exciting chase music! 

It’s not looking good for our Dean, when Sam directs him to a very particular spot he’s found on the map. The truck revs its engines and drives straight for Dean, disappearing into mist as soon as it hits stone barriers on either side of the Impala. It turns out that Sam directed Dean to the old, burnt out church in hopes that the hallowed ground would destroy the spirit. Luckily, Sam’s hunch was right! Job done. 

Cassie and Dean bid farewell at the waterfront. Dean wonders if their separation could be a little less permanent and GUYS if I weren’t so invested in Dean/Cas for season 15 then I’d totally go for Dean/Cassie as a surprise comeback. (I like sassy Cassie. Imagine...journalist turned hunter because she KNOWS TOO MUCH.) Cassie’s not feeling it, though, or at least she doesn’t think they can make it work. It’s goodbye for realsies, now. With one last kiss, they part ways. 

(Sam doesn’t interrupt! Somebody give him an award.)

They drive off and reflect on the top takeaway of this episode: Cassie’s great. “You meet someone like her,” Sam ponders. “Doesn't it make you wonder if it's worth it? Putting everything else on hold? Doing what we do?” Whoa, it’s almost like this is a central thesis statement of the entire series. Now, add a pinch of “someone who knows the life” and you got yourself a winning recipe!

Dean avoids the question, slipping on sunglasses and settling down for a little shut-eye while Sam drives them to their next case.

_______________________________

Maximum Quoterdrive:

I'm a little skeptical about this...ghost stuff

We'll be working things out when we're ninety

Occasionally I miss boring

_______________________________

[sunyoonandstars]

First Snow || BTS One Shot || You x Yoongi

Warning: This is so sweet, it will probably give you a toothache. 🍬🙃#sorrynotsorry Enjoy! 🎄

Fluff, hints of angst

Word count 1.599

"Yoongi? Are you okay? Where did you go?"

"I'm here. I'm right here."

Startled, you froze in place, phone pressed to your ear, eyes still fixed on Yoongi's pitch-black kitchen window while you felt his arms encircle your waist from behind and his chin come to rest on your shoulder.

"I'm sorry, babe," he mumbled into your scarf, holding you tight now, his cold nose nestled to your neck. "I should have come right down when you asked me to. I had no clue this was so important to you. I was being an idiot, period. You clearly love snow, so starting today, I love snow, too. ...”

First Snow 

It was a particularly cold December night, and you could smell it in the air. 

The snow. 

Even long before it started falling, the tip of your nose had begun to tingle and while you were still sat in class, longingly staring out the window, waiting for the first flake to tumble to the ground, your feet had gotten restless, eager to pace the pavements of Seoul that were about to turn into Winter Wonderland. 

Not only was it the night of the first snow of the season, though, but also date night with your boyfriend who was most likely wrapped up in his favorite blanket, lounging around on his sofa, ignorant of the miracle happening right outside his door while you swiftly made your way to his apartment. 

Standing under his window, anxiously waiting for him to answer your call, you couldn't keep yourself from grinning like a schoolgirl. 

"Yah, Yoongi!"

"What? Why are you screaming?“

"I'm not screaming," you laughed, feeling endorphins rush through your bloodstream while the crisp air nipped at your cheeks and nose and burned in your lungs with every ecstatic breath you took. "I'm just excited!"

"Well, stop being so excited, baby,“ Yoongi mumbled into the phone. “Or I'm afraid you’ll make my eardrums burst." 

"I'm sorry." 

"No, you're not," he chuckled, his voice low and husky, sounding as if you had just woken him from slumber. 

"No, I'm not. If there ever comes a day I stop being excited about snow, I might just as well be dead." 

"Don't say that, y/n." 

"But I mean it." 

"Wait. Snow?" 

"Yes! It's snowing! Look outside!" 

Finally, Yoongi’s figure appeared in the brightly lit frame of his kitchen window. 

Smiling, you waved at his familiar silhouette, unable to make out his features against the warm light seeping out into the night. 

"Yoongi-yah, isn't it beautiful!?" 

"Sure, baby," he grumbled, his words followed by a sigh. "But won't you come inside, hmm? It's freezing. You'll catch your death. Come on, I'll buzz you in." 

Sometimes, you just couldn't believe him. Grandpa Min, always grumpy, trying to put a damper on your cheerful mood. You wouldn't allow him to succeed, though. Not tonight. Not on the night of the first snow. Not ever. Not on your watch. 

"Come inside!?“ you repeated. “Tsk. No." 

Phone pressed to your ear, you shook your head so vigorously, he would surely get the message. 

"No?" Yoongi echoed, sounding displeased. 

"No way," you stood by your previous decision, arms crossed, blinking up at him through the falling snow. 

"But it's date night." 

"Exactly. And that's why you are going to come outside and join me for a walk." 

"A walk!?" he gasped. You could picture his face right now, nose crinkled, brows furrowed, a wrinkle forming in between them. "You're kidding me, right!?"

"No. I'm dead serious." 

"Do you wanna kill me, y/n?" 

"Oh, come on, don't be a pussy." 

"A what now?" 

"Oh, you heard me."

"Look, I love you, baby girl. But wild horses couldn't drag me outside right now. In here, it's warm and cozy and out there, it's cold and deadly. So, I'm staying right where I am, thank you.“ 

"Cold and deadly?" you snickered. "Seriously?" 

"Yes." Yoongi shrugged his shoulders, you could tell even from where you were standing. "Of course. I mean, first of all, you could catch pneumonia and die. Secondly, this beloved snow of yours turns every stairway into a mortal water slide."

"Oh, come on. Now you're exaggerating." 

"Am I, though? You're one of the clumsiest people I know, y/n."

"Exactly. So, if you won't come down, you leave me with no choice but to wander the snowy streets of Seoul all by my lonesome. I'll probably slip and crack my head open, and you'll have to live with regret for the rest of your life." 

"So you're threatening me now? That's what it has come to, yeah?" 

"Seems like it," you giggled. "Come on, Yoongi. Don't be a baby. I was really looking forward to this." 

"What?" 

"The first snow of the season, of course." You hesitated. "And the first snow we experience together, as a couple. Our first snow." 

Through the phone, you could hear Yoongi exhale with resignation. 

"But, baby, it's cold outside," he whined, making one last attempt at swaying you. "Why would you wanna take a walk, at night, in winter, when you could just as well watch the snow from in here while we're cuddling comfortably on my sofa in the cozy warmth of my heated living room?"  

"But we do that all the time, Yoongi! Don't get me wrong, I love our cuddle time. It's just – I –“ 

No longer trusting your vocal cords, the gut-wrenching disappointment of your romantic plans having gone amiss eventually catching up with you, you choked on barely held back tears that blurred your vision of Yoongi's kitchen window. 

When you had run a hand across your face to dry your eyes and looked back up, Yoongi had vanished, the window had gone dark, and you were met with perfect silence on the other end of the phone line. 

"Yoongi? Yoongs? Are you there?" 

No response. When you looked to check if he had ended the call, however, Yoongi still hadn't hung up. 

"Yoongi? Are you okay? Where did you go?" 

"I'm here. I'm right here." 

Startled, you froze in place, phone pressed to your ear, eyes still fixed on Yoongi's pitch-black kitchen window while you felt his arms encircle your waist from behind and his chin come to rest on your shoulder. 

"I'm sorry, babe," he mumbled into your scarf, holding you tight now, his cold nose nestled to your neck. "I should have come right down when you asked me to. I had no clue this was so important to you. I was being an idiot, period. You clearly love snow, so starting today, I love snow, too. Because I love you, y/n. Like crazy." 

Gradually, as if in slow-motion, your hand, still clutching the phone, dropped to your side, tears openly streaming down your cheeks now. 

This was the first time Yoongi had ever said them. 

The three words. 

In all the months you had spent together so far, he had never told you that he loved you before and you had started to doubt the depth of Yoongi's feelings for you, had gotten scared to fully commit because you could not have taken having your heart broken yet another time. So now, hearing him say those very words with such sincerity, you felt a switch being flicked in your heart and all the emotions you had held back, afraid to feel too much, came pouring out all at once. Shaken by uncontrollable, silent sobs, you buried your face in your hands, ashamed of your unchecked tears. 

But Yoongi could not be fooled. Immediately, he turned you around in his arms, so you had to face him. 

"Oh, no, y/n, you're crying," he realized. "Why? Is it because of me? Did I hurt your feelings? I did, didn’t I? I’m sorry. I'm so sorry." 

The sorrowful sound of his soft voice broke your heart. It was almost as if he was the one who was hurt, not you, as if Yoongi could feel the pain and relief rushing through your veins right this instant just as intensely as you did. 

"Y/n, baby," he whispered, gently removing your hands and cupping your face with his instead, looking at you, forehead creased by genuine concern. "Don't cry. Please, don't cry. I can't stand it. I'm here now, okay? We can walk through the snow all you want. Just, please, don't be sad anymore. I never intended to hurt you. I'm sorry I was such an asshole. I should have been able to tell how excited you were and how much this meant to you. I'm sorry." 

Through a blur of tears, you stared back at him while Yoongi brushed away your tears, his expression disheartened. 

"That's not it, Yoongi," you started out, your voice still shaky. "I'm not upset anymore."

You couldn't help but smile when Yoongi's pouty, pink lips formed a puzzled 'oh' and he tilted his head to one side, eying you intently. 

"I'm just so ... happy," you barely managed to get out the words in between sobs. "What you just said ... just made me so happy." 

Enraptured by his beauty once again, you watched as Yoongi's expression changed and was taken over by the fondest of smiles, his eyes gleaming, snowflakes caught in his dark hair and eyelashes, falling all around you like feathers, lighter than air, it seemed, dancing boisterously as though they were celebrating your union. 

"And I haven't been happy in … forever. Until I met you, I didn't think I ever could be. So ... this ... just means a lot to me, Yoongi. You mean a lot to me. The world, actually. And I love you, too. So much, I can't even tell you." 

With a grin, Yoongi slowly leaned in, your gazes locked with each other until his eyelids fluttered shut and your lips met for a lingering kiss.  When he pulled back, he was still smiling, his ink-black orbs glistening in the glow of the warm street lights. 

"I can't believe how lucky I got with you," Yoongi whispered as he took your cold hand into his, your fingers naturally interlacing. "And now we're gonna go for a walk in the snow. And this hand? I'm never gonna let that go. Not ever."

  Thanks for reading. 💖 I hope you enjoyed it! ☺️

If you like(d) my writing and would care to read more, you can find my Masterlist here. 

[clown-bait]

Monster Family (Monster Roommate AU) Ch2

Eyyy fandom welcome back I’m going to be posting two chapters tonight in celebration of the up coming trailer! Enjoy my weird spider sex!

I’m going to put some additional warnings on this one: Spiders, and Oviposition are at play here. If you dont like that turn back now.

Ch2 Mike Hanlon Nearly Quits

The Derry library was finally quiet and calm on a snowy lazy Sunday afternoon. The busy morning browsers had finally begun to dwindle as they stopped in to stock up on a new mystery series then ducked back out into the cold with their entertainment for the upcoming snow storm. Mike Hanlon the head librarian decided he could take it easy for the rest of today, no one was going to show up in this weather. The remainder of the day was going to be nice and relaxing…..it was until they showed up.

“No! I am not doing this today.” the librarian groaned as an unusually tall man took several long strides to the non-ficiton section. He knew who the devilishly handsome stranger was the second he came in, the give away being in the way his baggy eyes drifted different directions and how his large delicate hands whipped the frozen beads of what was probably….hopefully drool from his plump lips.

“You are not welcome here we have a deal!” Mike chased after the disguise after being completely ignored by IT. It began tracing its fingers on the spines of books uncaring that the lighthouse keeper of The Losers Club was about to throw the biggest hardcover he could find at it. The creature finally turned to his greatest enemy when Mike found the courage to yank on his pea coat and it snapped the biology book in its hands shut causing Mike to jump out of his skin. Robert Grey grinned that disturbing wall eyed grin of his. “Hiya Mikey!”

“Leave.” the librarian growled

“Without my books? That’s not good business don't cha think?” he said as he leaned down to Mike’s level.

“What could you possibly want to find in a book?”

The disguised clown frowned and his cool steel eyes began to spark with amber. “I’m here for research Sheep Boy, remember our deal now. No phone calls, no dead kiddos.”

“I hope you’ve been sticking to it monster.” Mike spat

“Unfortunately I have.” the creature snarled and stood back up to tower over his enemy. “The things I do for family.” he muttered under his breath. “Now! About my research,”

“What makes you think I’m going to help you?” the librarian crossed his arms over his chest.

“I have given you more time to solve your little riddle have I not? I also must note that I happen to be a card carrying member of this library and last I checked it is your job to serve me yes?” The clown grinned and pulled an ancient piece of paper from his coat the name “Pennywise” scribbled on the dotted line in red child-like writing.

“I’m starting to think you don’t actually need any help at all.” Mike glared at the beast he was sure now that Pennywise’s agenda was to just humiliate him further.

The clown’s threatening posture relaxed and he let out a laugh. “Oh Mikey! While I do greatly enjoy causing you embarrassment I am genuine in my request. There is knowledge I seek that I do not have the time to observe on my own.”

“Which is?”

“Reproduction.”

“Nope.” Mike turned on his heel to leave.

“I don’t need help with the part you are thinking of, I am very skilled at mating!” the creature called after him.

“NOPE!”

Mike tried to make it to his office. He really tried, but was stopped by an extremely pale pregnant girl blocking the front of the door. A cheshire grin grew on her lips and Mike could see the enormous buck tooth front fangs she hid in her mouth. “Hey there Hanlon! Came to do some reading.” she grinned and removed her hood revealing a poorly dyed wig underneath. Color drained from Mike’s face. The clown was bad but the clown and his mate? He might as well set the library on fire.

“Need to borrow some books on spiders and What to Expect When You're Expecting do a girl a favor and point me in the right direction?”

“For the last time I will not help either of you.” the librarian growled.

“Wait who else is here?!” Leech’s ears perked up from under her wig, her face lit up when she saw Robert from across the room.

“WUFFLES!” the vampire shouted and shoved past Mike who got several looks from the elderly volunteers for not silencing the new obnoxiously loud visitor.

“Peachy pie?!” Robert grinned wide and extended his arms. “You changed your hair!” he said excitedly as he scooped her up and spun her around.

“This is a library!” Mike tried to shout over them but clearly the monsters didn't care.

“How are you feeling my love, better?”

“Yeah they've calmed down in there. Came by to pick up some reading material.” Leech placed her hands on her bump running her fingers gently over her babies. Robert got on his knees purring and cooing at his young.

“Are you giving your mother trouble my little ones?”

“Of course they are, they take after you.”

Robert growled affectionately at her and rose back up tilting his mate’s chin upwards to press a quick kiss to her lips. “I like the new color.”

“Doing rose for Valentines Day.”

“Ah yes, the holiday you won't stop reminding me about.”

“Cause you'll probably forget it.”

“Will not!”

“This is a library!” Mike shouted louder.

“Yeah it is Mikey so be quiet and bring me a book on spider anatomy.” Leech waved the poor librarian away as she plucked a medical book off the shelf and tugged on her mate’s scarf to bring him with her to a table. The pair sat down on opposite ends grinning up at one another every now and then. After a moment of reprieve from their chatter Leech once again resumed talking loudly across the table “So Ruffles what cha’ reading?”

“I'm more curious about what you're reading darling. Spider anatomy?”

“I want to know what I’m dealing with in here.”

“How coincidental. So do I.”  the disguised clown crossed his leg over the other and tapped the spine of his book on parenting. Mike slammed a book on their table labeled Spiders of the World interrupting the conversation. “I hope they're the kind that eat their parents after they're born.”

Robert stuck a long tongue out from behind a set of fangs as the librarian glared.

“Hey Bob you think I’ll lay eggs?” Leech interrupted the exchange and Mike tried to hold back the urge to throw up in his mouth as he evacuated the area.

“Most likely.” Robert cooly replied.

“I'm amazed that doesnt even phase you. How big?”

Robert shrugged and licked his finger obnoxiously to turn the page creating a spot of drool on the paper.

“Please don't damage the volumes!” Mike called out

“Please don't interrupt my reading librarian!” the eldritch snapped back making a defiant mocking face before soaking his finger with drool again. After another brief moment of quiet reading Leech flicked a pencil over at her mate’s head then waved sheepishly when he glared up at her.

“Hey! Tell me if this does anything for you.” she said as she began to rapidly tap the pads of her fingers on the books next to her. The disguised Pennywise paused his reading and glanced upward at the sound and Leech grinned making the tap again. A low curious chitter vibrated out of the creature’s throat as his eyes became a radioactive yellow. “Am I turning you on big guy?” Leech wiggled her eyebrows at him seductively. “Says here spiders drum on things to attract mates.” she tapped again louder and faster this time and Mike popped his head out from behind a shelf ready to throw them out, supernatural super beings be damned. With no warning the eldritch stood and floated up onto the table walking across it in a few short strides much to Mike Hanlon’s absolute horror. The creature hopped off with a thud nearly straddling his mate’s legs and leaned down over her as his arms trapped her shoulders to the chair.

“Faster.” he commanded. Leech blinked a few times then tapped on the book in her lap.

“FASTER.” fangs split out of the side of his face and a pair of spider limbs erupted from his back. Every person in the library merely glanced up as if all he had done was spill some water. Every person except a sweating mortified head librarian.

A dark blush of ichor formed on the nosferatu’s cheeks when she saw the hot and bothered beast practically panting above her. She began to tap again but was cut short when she found Penny’s lips crashing into her’s letting out a frantic clicking as he shoved his tongue into her mouth. Another set of arachnid limbs shot out of him to anchor him in place and the first set drummed furiously on the table as he kissed her.

“Breed with me.” he hissed out voice almost unrecognizable.

“I already did Ruffles.” Leech mumbled into his hot kisses. The creature growled and put his hands on her swollen stomach pressing his lips to her with more urgency as his tapping resumed nearly breaking the table.

“Again then...more...breed with me.” he was almost demanding it at this point. Leech couldn't help but twist a set of talons into her mate’s coat pulling him tighter to her. Before he could act Robert Grey found himself suddenly freezing and damp as Mike bravely wielded a fire extinguisher hosing him down once more when his radioactive red and yellow eyes snapped up at him.

“OUT! GET OUT! RIGHT NOW!” the librarian shouted preparing to spray again. The eldritch growled and hissed fangs extending through his gums. “I will do it again and you know I have more of these!” Mike warned them and Leech let out a loud “FUCK!” as she tried to wipe the chemicals off her jacket. Claws splintered into the chair behind her and Leech quickly snapped her fingers in her mate’s face to get his attention.

“HEY! Calm down Pen holy shit! You made a promise not to kill him remember?” The eldritch’s fangs receded back into its jaws “Come on grab your books you horny bastard it's not like we don't live together or anything.” The vampire stood up not wanting to be sprayed again and tried to calm her beloved horror shoving her book bag into his chest. “You can take me to the circus cart just don't flip out in public sheesh.”

An eldritch whine spilled out of the creature’s lips as he hoisted his mate to her feet. “Hey Hanlon I’m keeping the spider book if that's cool.” Leech grinned as her arms slipped around her monster’s slender waist.

“Its not.”

“Cool. Alright abracadabra!”

“Must you shout that every time I teleport us?”

“Let me have my fun and I’ll let you have your’s. Abracafuckingdabra.”

The creature hissed in annoyance but his massive hand still enveloped around hers cradling his mate to his body. His golden eyes flicked up as he clicked and churred at her his stare piercing into Mike with a look of mischief. Static fizzled in the air and the pair were gone along with several unchecked books. Mike sighed and began to wonder if supernatural security sensors were a thing.

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

They reappeared in a room that was not the circus cart and Leech found her eyes darting around the dark space. If it wasn't for her night vision she'd be completely blind in the tunnel yet she still found herself collecting sticky webbing on her jacket anyway.

“Pen where the hell are we?” she asked him who's shape had already shifted into a familiar clown.

“Nest!” he grinned down at her with pride. It was like she was in a tunnel of soft sticky webbing that reminded her of spinning cotton candy before it was wrapped around a cone. It smelled sweet and made the ground feel like a giant suspended hammock made of silk Leech pulled away from her clown to touch the walls noticing the web covered ground outside of the soft cocoon was a bit firmer. He had made a nursery for them.

“Do you like it?” her clown bounced excitedly in the soft silk bed.

“Is this what you do while I’m at work all day?” she turned to him and smiled “And here I was going to suggest you get a hobby” Leech ducked back into the funnel and flopped into the webbing that caressed her like an extremely soft bounce house. Her mate crashed beside her causing Leech to bounce up with his weight. The vampire couldn't help the chuckle that spilled from her lips and Pennywise grinned wide pushing on the webbing to bounce her more. “PENNY STOP!” she laughed and squirmed her way over to him till she was in his arms. “Its gonna need some pillows so I can lay upright.” she said leaning up “How did you make all this?”

“Do you really want to know darling?”

“It came from your ass didn't it”

“Spinnerettes”

“Which are located on your ass”

“I warned you.”

“Speaking of, weird request, but can you make me something to prop myself up with? Back is starting to hurt.”

“I brought you here to mate with you darling.”

“No shit sherlock, but I'd like to be comfortable during.”

Pennywise stood up and grumbled to himself letting his form grow and melt away with his back to her. The giant spider that stood in his place adjusted its legs as it stood delicately in its web tunnel then it arched its abdomen forward a pair of legs beginning to knit and shape what Leech assumed to be silk. She decided she wanted to watch and moved around to the front of the enormous arachnid who hissed and turned away.

“Oh come on Pen it's not like we haven't done weird shit in front of each other before, it's just knitting with your ass thread sheesh.”

The spider hissed and churred.

“Yeah yeah spinnerettes I got it. Come here let me see what you're doing” she tugged on the spider's leg who reluctantly let her turn IT. She could see the large ball of silk in its pedipalps as it worked and spun it like a white ball of cotton candy. Leech couldn't help but rest her head on the metatarsus she was holding onto gently stroking her hand up and down the arachnids limb kissing it softly. The great spider turned its head cocking it a bit to the side in its quick robotic way of moving. IT’s mate smiled up at it and kissed it again this time more deeply with soft tapping on its exoskeleton. “Have I ever told you how impressive you are underneath the paint?” Leech grinned into the hard skin of its leg. “I bet I could ride you.” IT stopped its weaving and looked down at her in silence. “I meant on your back perv.” Leech rolled her eyes and shoved ITs leg, the creature hissed in response. “Oh come on Pen what’s the point of dating a giant spider god if you don't get to ride around it every now and then especially when you're having its demon spawn. You owe me a ride.” IT made another annoyed sound before swiftly lifting its mate into the air with a hooked claw at the end of one of IT’s legs. Leech squirmed a bit in IT’s grasp until the large silk pillow was thrust into her arms. It was way bigger than she thought it'd be, in fact a large dog would be pretty comfortable using it as a bed. She was carefully set down much to her surprise at how gentle IT could be with her, deciding to settle in on her new giant cotton ball while she watched IT fuss with the web ceiling of their nest. After a long awkward silence Leech sighed and removed her bra from under her shirt flinging it at the giant creature. “Will you stop your fussing and come here already sheesh Pen. It looks fine.”

The giant spider looked down at its mate its mandibles clicking and fluttering. “How do I cuddle you in this form?”

The giant arachnid slowly moved over her and lowered itself almost mechanically until its head rested atop her swollen baby bump. Leech grinned and traced it's fangs and mandibles. The spider twitched violently until its top half became the clown who leaned into her touch. “Are you satisfied now?” he purred through hazy yellow eyes.

“I think so.” she mumbled pushing her hands into his hair as he made his way up her body. Penny continued his insectile churring and clicking against her neck and ear. When she didn't respond to his usual noises of arousal he pulled back hovering above her breathing in her emotions through her scent. Sensing she wasn't satisfied the clown cocked an eyebrow.

“Hmm?”

“Turn back.”

The clown blinked in surprise and Leech sat back up removing her shirt.

“The spider is the closest to your true form right? I want you as you really are.”

“Are you sure you know what you are asking darling?”

“Has it ever bothered me before?” she smiled pulling him to her and kissing him softly. “I want you Pen, I don't care what form you're in.”

Pennywise rumbled out a curious growl returning to her neck clicking and purring. He dragged his tongue along her flesh until soft lips became sharp fangs and mandibles. Leech opened her eyes in a daze and the spider scraped ITs fangs over her cheek. She expected the familiar feeling of teeth sinking into her flesh and her body flinched instinctively but what came instead was gentle pressure. IT was being incredibly careful with her being so big and deadly. She felt the smaller set of front limbs trace over her swollen belly carefully hooking onto her belt loops and begin to tug. IT’s mandibles fluttered against her face in ITs version of a kiss which Leech returned as best she could drumming her fingers on ITs carapace. She felt the entire creature shudder and groan the noise muffled thankfully by the silk cocoon they were in. IT hovered over her predatory and hungry beginning to grow impatient with her pants tugging with more force.

“Let me get it before you tear them off Pen-” Leech began reaching to remove her jeans she was cut off by a terrifyingly loud hiss causing her to gasp and pull away. The scent of fear flooded the creatures senses the noise IT made could almost be described as a moan. IT lunged forward at her a pair of legs pinned her arms above her head working silk to tie them together. IT churred with arousal as it brought IT’s fangs back in close front legs tapping furiously causing the whole chamber to shake. With a harsh yank her pants were torn from her body and Leech opened her mouth to protest but was cut off when IT hoisted her into the air. “Pennywise! What are you- HEY!” Leech shouted at her mate who was already far too gone in IT’s own fantasies at this point. She was cut off again when her spider was now upside down and spinning sticky silk to fasten her to the ceiling. Leech blinked then smiled nervously “Bondage? Looks like I'm not the only one who's put some thought into this huh Pen?” she smirked and waved her ass in her restraints. The spider below her moved back above her body angling IT’s self into a comfortable position. Leech continued her bratty chatter until something large and slimy slid to rest on her backside. “Th-thats new.” She stuttered with large eyes the giant arachnid let out a laugh like chitter bringing its fangs back near her neck while it's small front limbs poked and rubbed her swollen breasts. She felt her spider's longer legs rubbing her belly as it rocked its abdomen back and forth grinding its alien member against her ass cheeks. Huge slimy globs of drool spilled over her shoulders and against her cheek each time IT turned its head to affectionately click and churr in her ear. The small vampire returned IT’s affection as best she could kissing and running her tongue over its fangs and mandibles in soft kitten licks. IT was being incredibly gentle for what it was, IT had to be, everything about IT was for death not love. She felt her spider's grip on her tighten a bit and she let out a hiss when its slick member rubbed against her folds lubricating her as much as IT could before beginning to press at her entrance. Leech cried out as the thing between her legs began to fill her it wasn't a tentacle and it was much bigger than she thought it'd be. IT began to drum its front legs on the wall as it growled and churred pushing its thick appendage into her until she couldn't take any more of it. The spider at her back went still, letting her adjust to IT as its member stretched her inner walls. She felt a spill of hot liquid on her back and felt her monster cooing in her ear checking on IT’s mate and tenderly rubbing its brood within her. “I-Im okay Pen.” She panted and the creature above her gave her a test pump, Leech moaned loud in response.

She could hear her mate making an insectile laughing noise above her clearly very pleased with itself before thrusting into her again beginning a slow rhythm. “OH myyYYy my g-gOD PEnny!” Leech shuddered out as she tried her best to fuck him back. She didn't know what to expect when she thought of trying this but at this point fucking IT was definitely something she planned on trying again. The spider at her back hissed and purred making its “love growl” to her as the bumps and ridges of its slick organ rubbed at her insides, careful not to disturb the clutch of eggs already growing within her. She felt IT grip her body tighter and something leaked from her tit as it pressed harder at her breasts. Involuntary cries of pleasure escaped her lips as IT rocked itself in and out of her dripping cunt. Her mate picked up the pace, mouthing the back of her neck gently and scraping ITs fangs into her skin just enough to prick it. She could feel IT’s venom in her fresh wounds giving her not pain but unexpected pleasure. Her skin feeling sensitive and tingly to the massive arachnid's touch on her breasts and swollen belly which IT still stroked with reverence. She was able to come out of her high just enough to hear the sounds her lover was making above her roaring and gurgling out some dead language as it fucked her pussy with less carefulness than before. Her ears pricked up when she heard a familiar word escape its mandibles. “LeeEecHiiE.” IT tried to purr her name over and over as hot liquid venom filled drool dripping off the back of her neck and shoulders. “Yes Pen fuck take me!” She growled out encouragement to IT knowing how much it loved praise “Take your little slut, don't hold back Pen please!” she heard IT roar in pleasure at that humping into her like it was a race. Leech came with a shuddering cry her mate still fucking her and pulling another from her body shortly after. Leech's long vampiric tongue lolled out of her mouth as her body took more of her monster's rutting and she barely registered it when her restraints were suddenly cut. IT flipped her around to her back setting her on the pillow it had made for her earlier before going back to chasing it's own release. She could feel its mandibles at her throat scraping her skin with more potent aphrodisiac venom. The amount of overstimulation she was receiving was reaching an uncomfortable level and the vampire began to beg for the massive spider's cum. IT roared loud once again drumming its front legs so hard IT shook the entire sewer. Suddenly it bit down on her shoulder and leech felt a gush of liquid fill her abused pussy followed by something solid and squishy filling her hole to the point of bursting. She came a final time as her mate released inside her milking what she knew now to be its ovipositor with her slick walls. IT pulled out violently and finished on her body ping pong ball sized eggs and cum bathing her as she shuddered and spasmed.

The vampire could only lay there in the sticky mess as leftover eggs leaked from her stretched hole and onto the web hammock she lay in. Moving wasn't an option at the moment no matter how weird or gross the situation was. She knew something was coming from her nipples but looking required too much energy. Her spider's mandibles fluttered gently over her skin first at her belly cooing at her young assuring that they were alright then against her cheek until fang were replaced by a giant's soft red lips. Pennywise in his giant form, began to lick her clean his tongue covering half her body. She could feel his large thumb gently rubbing her forehead and his lips pressing against her body every now and then with massive kisses.

“Holy shit Pen.” Leech finally panted out and her whole body vibrated with his giggle.

“Are you alright little one?” He purred as he shrunk down.

“Am I still alive?”

“Very much so darling. You did so well for me.” He cooed as he settled beside her pressing his hand on her belly as he purred against her ear. Leech found the strength to turn and press her lips to his smiling into the kiss. “I fucking love you.” She giggled and bumped her head against his.

“And I you sweet thing.”

After a long quiet moment Leech finally decided to look down and assess herself and yelped when she saw her tits covered in red human blood. “OH MY GOD WHAT THE FUCK? WHY IS IT RED?!?!! THAT IS NOT MILK!” Pennywise seemed a bit startled by the sudden shouting and bolted up in surprise sniffing her and groaning at the false alarm.

“You are fine Peachy.”

“MY TITS ARE BLEEDING A COLOR THEY DON'T NORMALLY BLEED!”

“You need to feed our young somehow dear.”

“So I'm stockpiling blood instead of milk?!”

Penny growled and placed a hand over his growing young. “Everything is alright.”

“This whole pregnancy is terrifying I hope you know that.”

“I'm very aware.” The clown rolled his eyes and changed the subject tapping gently on her rounded stomach. “They will be vulnerable their first month this place will be soft and safe.”

“How do you know” leech turned to him finally calmed down. Pennywise grinned smugly at her and tapped his bulbous forehead.

“Instinct”

“Something I lack. Its gonna be hard for me to take care of them I'm not...the most maternal person. I hope you know that.” Leech sighed her hand joining her mate's over their babies.

“Peachy pie.” He purred and rubbed his cheekbone into her “We will learn together.” Leech laughed at the thought.

“I can't wait to see you of all people try to interact with a baby in a way that doesn't end in eating it.”

“I'm sure you will get endless amusement.” The clown rolled his eyes.

The vampire beamed and kissed her monster's cheek nuzzling him obnoxiously. “I sure will!”

Her clown sighed in annoyance and turned into her “Rest my love. I will bring you something to eat.”

“AB blood type please!” She grinned and kissed the creature on the nose.

Pennywise huffed but a small smile tugged at his lips and he returned her affection before standing and leaving their nursery. “Sleep well darling.” He purred before disappearing into the darkness.

SO YEAH I WENT THERE. Wake up fandom shits gotten weirder and more depraved. I hope you all enjoyed my weird spider egg bukkake. Love you freaks!

[motleystitches]

Guardian  鎮魂 (Chap 49) ..

...in which I translate my favorite chapter when Yunlan the badboy detective/reincarnated god(he doesn’t know yet) reveals how much he loves his fair professor/deadly soulless creature. This translation is based on how I would read it English (or close enough) so there are words that I emphasize that the Wattpad translation don’t and vice versa.

For example, there’s a phrase that translates literally to ‘brows and eyes like a painting’ which sounds very odd to me in English. Since the phrase conveys a literary descriptor of ethereal beauty, “pretty as a picture” wouldn’t do either so I’ve gone with ‘fair’ which Tolkien uses for elves quite often and occasionally for exceptional mortals. I considered “pulchritudinous” as well, but the Chinese phrase isn’t that obscure.

Zhao Yunlan was in a curious state of mind. 

He did drink too much and wasn’t walking steadily but after throwing up and a nap, the effects of alcohol were fading.

It was just that Chu Chuzi said that he was drunk and disorientated, so he played along and pretended he was completely drunk, and was only half-pretending that he was dead asleep.

Shen Wei had came upstairs to pick him up but he had left the engine running to keep the air on. Zhao Yunlan felt it when he got in the car.

Shen Wei sat down and pushed him gently. “Stay awake, sleep when you’re home. You’ll catch a chill outside.”

Zhao Yunlan played dead.

He heard a sign from the man beside him. Shen Wei couldn’t wake him so he bent down to buckle the seat belt, bringing the two close enough that Zhao Yunlan could smell Shen Wei; different from the winter Wraith Slayer brought with him, he had the soapy scent of the newly washed clothes- the Wraith Slayer stripped of the guise that both men and ghosts feared was a man of incongruous clean grace. (Note: the literal translation is that the man inside is so clean and soft, but ‘soft’ hear is more like..genteel- a good feminine descriptor of comfort, which is meant to contrast against the blood and violence in being a Lord of Abominations)

Then Shen Wei took out a bottle of mineral water and poured some of it into a small cup, he swirled the cup twice in his hand until steam covered what would’ve been cold water. He moved the cup beneath Zhao Yunlan’s mouth. “At least take a sip.” (Note: TV’s “rewarming porridge scene”)

Zhao Yunlan opened his eyes slightly. In the darkness of the car the only light seemed to be from Shen Wei’s eyes, just bright enough that they were neither grim nor burning.

Zhao Yunlan’s heart thumped once, hard. He pressed close and drank the entire cupful by Shen Wei’s hand. Then Shen Wei found a blanket from beneath the seat and covered him snugly before turning up the air. Only then did he start driving.

Zhao Yunlan leaned against the seat. His eyes were closed but his mind was clear...it had been a very long time since he had been so warm in such a cold night.

In the half month since they returned from the snowy mountain, he hadn’t contacted Shen Wei.  

Nevertheless, harassing him regularly and constantly noticing his likes had become Zhao Yunlan’s habit. And breaking a habit was painful. He had been living harder than usual with the excuse that it was the end of the year. But though man is a social animal, over-socialization was tiring. 

It was more difficult to appear alone if there was no expectation to be dapper and polished. 

There had always been men and women. When he was feeling like it, keeping a number of flirtations going gave him a sense of self-satisfaction, but ever since he cut off contact with Shen Wei, Zhao Yunlan couldn’t help but compare all others against Shen Wei with the consequence that his interest would fade because no one else had the same scholarly air so worthy of savoring, no one else had such a fair face.

Zhao Yunlan felt as if he had become a monk overnight. One day over dinner, they had invited a young model through an agency, but even she couldn’t arouse his interest- and with Da Qing as witness, for a while he had rather lewdly used that model’s swimsuit picture as his desktop. 

And every time he became so drunk as to forget the day and month, he would remember the time his stomach hurt but got his way to keep Shen Wei with him at home for half the day.

They watched movies, sometimes talked, and in the middle when the movie got boring, he flipped open half-read files and resumed reading. Each to his own, neither one bothered the other, and Shen Wei would shove a pillow behind his back. (Note: the pillow scene in the car in the show has a reference!)

That had always been the life he secretly wanted-- no complaints about being terse, no nagging, no demands- today a movie, tomorrow some flowers, they didn’t bother each other, but weren’t cold and aloof...but more as if they should’ve been living together in their own kingdom all along. 

Zhao Yunlan was old enough, his intellectual and emotional intelligence was evenly developed, generally speaking, and he was also self-aware, so of course he knew that when a man didn’t see the tiny waist, the long legs, and the shapely butt of another person, and instead saw the desire for a peaceful home, then it was no longer lust.

If not for this, he would’ve made a joke with the Wraith Slayer and that would’ve been the end to it. 

But he didn’t want to.

Every time Zhao Yunlan remembered the snowy mountain, that poor little shack, the pair of eyes that met his in the middle of the night, he thought if things were just to “end”, he would regret it for the rest of his life. 

Zhao Yunlan’s pigsty of a home wasn’t far from No. 4 Guang Ming Road so he hadn’t quite struggled through his complicated emotions before the trip ended. Shen Wei helped him all the way through the door, took off his jacket before hanging it up, moved him to the bed, then turned to the bathroom to find a wet towel. 

Though Zhao Yunlan looked like he was completely wasted, Shen Wei remained extremely polite. He only carefully rubbed down Zhao Yunlan’s face, hands and feet, and didn’t veer to touch anywhere else. Shen Wei pulled the coverlet over him, put the towel aside, and tidied up out of habit, putting the trash near the door with a plan to take it out when he leaves. He also picked up the clothes thrown all over the floor and put them all in the dry-cleaning bag Zhao Yunlan had abandoned near the door. He put a note on it to remind him to get it to the cleaners the next day.

He was so detailed he took away the half-glass of water left on the bedside drawers, just so that Zhao Yunlan wouldn’t knock it over in the middle of the night.

Zhao Yunlan listened to the other man tiptoeing around room, the susurrus of him tidying up, but the problem inside his heart remain knotted and was becoming knottier.

Shen Wei cared for him, Zhao Yunlan could feel it. Throughout his life, except for his parents, everyone else wanted something from him, or relied on him, no one had ever truly cared.

....oh Da Qing didn’t count, he was a sh*tty grump fat cat. 

After Shen Wei finished, he realised that Zhao Yunlan, who had peered at him before seemed to be now asleep. He wasn’t moving. 

He seemed so peaceful. Shen Wei hesitated, but couldn’t bring himself to leave. He stood beside the bed and looked at Zhao Yunlan greedily.

“F-ck!” Yunlan, who was pretending to be asleep, was finding it intolerable. “Please stop staring, if you are going, just go. This is killing me.” 

But the Wraith Slayer didn’t hear his thoughts and god didn’t hear his thoughts. After a few moments, like a man in a trance, Shen Wei bent down carefully, close to Zhao Yunlan, until he could feel his breath on his face.

Sheer willpower kept Zhao Yunlan motionless as a corpse. And yet he felt very clearly that this state of being wouldn’t last very long. 

At this time, Shen Wei finally couldn’t bear it, his arms propped beside Yunlan, he touched Zhao Yunlan’s lips lightly, a whisper of a touch, gone as it was there. He closed his eyes, as if the short contact provided him immense succor. His flesh shuddered with thunderous heartbeat so there was a moment, Shen Wei thought he was actually human. He had stolen a kiss from his beloved under dimmed lights; joy and sweetness welled up in his heart. He wouldn’t complain if he was to die now.

Yunlan’s mind was suddenly blank.

His temper, hanging by a thread that was increasing in tension, finally snapped. Zhao Yunlan’s alcohol fueled brain thought very clearly: “Wraith Slayer? So what if he is the Wraith Slayer? What I like is mine. F*ck everything else!” 

So the “dead asleep” Yunlan suddenly reached out and caught Shen Wei. Shen Wei, surprised, found himself falling. Then Yunlan turned over and was pressed half over him. 

There was still alcohol in Zhao Yunlan’s breath, but his eyes were clear. He met Shen Wei’s eyes and asked softly, “What are you doing, your eminence?”

Shen Wei opened his mouth but no sound came out, too awkward too answer. 

Zhao Yunlan looked at him for a moment, an indecipherable expression in his eyes, then suddenly reached up and softly squeezed Shen Wei’s chin. “I always thought your eminence a gentlemen. Who knew you kiss secretly in the middle of the night, and such an unprofessional kiss, too.”

Then Shen Wei heard his muffled laughter.

Until Zhao Yunlan kissed him, Shen Wei remained stunned. He thought he was in a ridiculous and marvelous dream. Helpless, he embraced Zhao Yunlan’s body. (note: yes, it does read ‘his body’, not just the name)

That man’s kiss was skilled, sensual and tantalizing, and minimum effort was enough was to render Wei weak and confused, utterly vanquished.

Then Zhao Yunlan lifted himself up slightly. The two were most touching noses. Shen Wei heard Yunlan say softly: “Professional standards would at least be like this.”

Wei was speechless.

Two buttons of Yunlan’s collar were undone, exposing the long graceful arc of his collarbone, sending off traces of cologne. A whiff stoppered all of Shen Wei’s words. He couldn’t tell who was the one inebriated.

Zhao Yunlan sighed and reached out to brush aside the messy fringe on Shen Wei’s  forehead. “Let me ask you something. You’ve been hiding from me for a while but refused to stay hidden, was it because you knew me from a long long time ago and wronged me, or are you worried that man and ghoul do not share the same destiny?”

Shen Wei, shocked, became alert. He pushed him away and sat up. The flush on his face faded and the hands by his side tightened.

Zhao Yunlan moved sideways, half-leaned against the bed, and pulled at Shen Wei’s hand, opening up his fist a little at a time. “You always fight with yourself. If it’s the first reason, then I’m saying this now, whatever happened, there’s no debt between us. If you don’t mention it, I won’t remember. As for the second....isn’t the second reason a moot point? Even a living person will die.....maybe one day I-”

Shen Wei covered his mouth.

They looked at each other for a while but finally Shen Wei slowly shook his head.

Zhao Yunlan sighed and got out of the bed. He seemed clear-headed and articulate, so who knew his step would be so unsteady. He sat down hard on the floor. He held his head in his hands and complained. “F-ck, ten bees are buzzing in front of me.”

Shen Wei came to help him up. “I thought you aren’t drunk. Are you hurt?”

Zhao Yunlan’s was in that curious state of consciousness where he could think logically but could not walk in a straight line, otherwise he wouldn’t have had the courage to be so frank.

He shook his head, crouched down and pulled out the drawer from the bedside table, he drew out a plastic file folder from the bottom and dropped it in front of Wei. “Open it.”

Shen Wei hesitated, but he opened it and found a deed tucked inside, a single family home with a yard near Dragon City College’s college road…a substantially large investment, no wonder Zhao Yunlan seemed so poor recently.

Zhao Yunlan stopped smiling and leaned against the bedside drawer, stretching out his legs in front. He raised his head and took out a cigarette from his pocket.

He remained silent for the length of a cigarette before speaking, voice low. “I had the deed transferred before we went to the Snowy Mountain. Originally I was thinking, commute would be easy there, it’s quite a nice neighborhood, and it happens to be next to Dragon College, if you were willing to move in with me, then you wouldn’t have to drive to work. You could even get up later. Next year, I’ll try to transfer the SID over as well. The house is quite big, likely too big for two people, but then you can keep a large study. You would be able to bring students home and I could invite friends over....I thought of having a big stupid dog as well, and occasionally get it to fight with Da Qing, like a Cat vs. Dog New Years movie....”

Shen Wei’s hand couldn’t help shaking. The plastic folder rustled. 

Zhao Yunlan laughed quietly. “Who knew after trip from the Great Northwest, I would discover that it’s for Your Eminence-- you can move from east to west side of the city in the blink of an eye. Why would you need to drive? To get up early? I wouldn’t have bothered had I known. Now I almost don’t have enough for New Years because of that poor little place.” (Note: ;_; )

Shen Wei lowered his head and met his eyes and only thought that man had always looked at him that way. Without the teasing, only deep affection remained, just a fleeting piece captured was enough to drown a man.  (note: this is a mixed metaphor in Chinese as well)

Wei thought he was splitting in two. Half of him was so happy that he could fly, but the other half was sunk deep beneath the waters of the underworld. For a moment, he thought he was going mad.

Millenia of solitude had not driven him insane, but two sentences from that man, casually spoken, was enough to stir his emotions to a storm. 

No wonder the sages say:  with love the living may die and the dead can live. only when love is not enough, the living cannot be with the dead and dead cannot live. 

Yet with the soul in disarray, who knew the hour or the year?

[thehorrcr]

excerpt from the short story I am mcwriting

And then, a memory played, coming to life like a corpse, as Lina tried to push it back down. But it was no use, she was already slipping down the edges of it, until she was back in the woods on that day, exactly a year ago.

She could still smell the perfume of damp moss and leaves, sweet and full of decay. The scent was nearly suffocating. Lina was watching another version of herself, walk past her, she was carrying a sling shot in one hand. The sight of the item made Lina’s heart wrench. She chased after her, calling out, desperately, “Hey, stop!” She screamed, “Come back!”

But if the other Lina heard her, she showed no signs of it. She continued to walk through the woods, as if on a mission. She was wearing her usual yellow raincoat, and the color looked out of the place against the dark greens, and bruised purples, of the forest’s autumn foliage. Lina followed after her like a lost dog, somewhere behind her she could see a shadow doing the same. She turned to try and see what the thing could be, but it disappeared as soon as her eyes hit it. Like smoke, evaporating into nothing.

The other Lina was deep into the heart of the woods now, red flowers grew like rubies, tall grass framed the bank of a nearby creek. Where the frogs no longer chirped, for the weather was too cold for their playful songs. Winter woods make no noise, the only sound that fills them is the gentle whisper of the trees. As the wind tickles their boughs, and plays the branches as if they were strings of a harp. Lina watched her breath dance in front of her, the cold burned into her skin, and she suddenly wished for nothing more than to run home and bundle up under the covers of her bed. The other Lina was looking up towards the sky, her eyes searching for something. Like a pirate scanning the horizon for land. When she seemed satisfied, she bent down onto the ground. Lina could feel the cold ground bite into her knee caps, turning her stockings snowy with the leftover snow that had been on the ground at the time. As the other Lina knelt, she was pushing through the wood chips until her fingers landed upon a smooth stone. Lina remembered the surface of it, cold and heavy, like marble.

The rock made her sick to her stomach. “Please, snap out of it.” She begged. But the memory continued, Lina’s pleading fell on deaf ears. As the other Lina placed the rock into the sling shot. Her head once again, turned towards the sky as she tugged back the band, and tilted it upwards. The other Lina had one eye closed, as she took her aim. For a moment, it seemed as if the entire woods held its breath.

The trees, did not bend, the creek did not flow, the rabbits did not run over the roots of the trees that covered the forest floor like the bones of old corpses. Everything stilled, waiting for the other Lina to make a decision. Even though Lina knew how this memory ended, she still prayed with every bone in her body that the other Lina would lower the weapon, and that she would walk home to Ooma baking cookies.

A crow cawed in a tree above them, and then there was the sound of the band being released, as the other Lina took the shot. A few seconds later, Lina heard the stone hit bone. The sound cracked open the silence, like the splitting of a ribcage. As a dove, plummeted from the sky. Falling to the ground, like a star being plucked from the mouth of the night sky.

Lina’s heart nearly stopped in her chest as she realized what was going to happen next. She heard a voice ringing out into the quit din of the woods, broken and full of sorrow, like the tears of Mother Mary, and it took her a moment to realize that they were escaping from her own mouth. “Get me out of here! Please!” She was begging, and the memory shuddered around her, but did not fade. “I said, get me out of here!” Lina screamed, turning slowly as if accusing the trees and shadows around her of murder. The silouhette of a boy, was standing not too far from her and it took Lina a moment to realize that it was Dizzy. He was watching the Other Lina, his hands moving in a weird motion as if conducting an orchestra. Lina grew silent, confusion and curiosity flooding her veins. Her brow furrowed, as she tried to make sense of what she was seeing.

And then it hit her. Dizzy, was controlling the other Lina. He always had been.

Lina turned her attention back to her past self, and saw that she was bent over the fallen dove. A switchblade had been pulled from her back pocket. She was examining the thing’s broken wings, with an uncaring eye. The usual depth that could always be found in her brown eyes, was made of glass now. It was that unnerving sense of lackadaisical empathy, that struck Lina as terrifying. She had killed a thing, and hadn’t had a care in the world.

It was as if she weren’t herself… it was as if she were possessed.

Lina watched as she placed the blade to the bird’s throat. Then, before she cut into the soft skin, the other Lina started to speak. The words were slow at first, almost hesitant. As if the other Lina suddenly had realized what she was doing, and was waking up from whatever trance she was in. Hope sparked in Lina’s chest, but was stolen after a moment. When dizzy, snapped his fingers, and the other Lina seemed to plunge headfirst, right back into that darkness. She finished the incantation that she was saying, the words weren’t like any spell that she had ever heard before. It sounded darker, like the type of black magic that Lina’s mother used to warn the three of them about. A cold chill ran up and down Lina’s spine, as she started to shake, violently.

The other Lina finished the spell, and paused for a moment, before slicing the birds head off. The forest suddenly seemed to lose all of its color, as if mourning the loss of one of its beloved friends. The trees were bent over, and the flowers started to wilt all around the other Lina. As if nothing beautiful could exist around something that burned so coldly. Instead of weeping, Lina turned towards Dizzy, unable to watch as the other Lina wiped the blood of the bird, onto her yellow raincoat.

“You did this!” She shouted. Dizzy turned towards her, his features were blurred and mixing together. As if he were a kaleidescope, ever shifting.

“I did what had to be done, Lina Finch.” He replied, but it wasn’t his voice. In fact, it didn’t even sound like a boy that was replying, but a woman. Her voice, sweet, like the honey suckles that Lina and her sisters used to pick on their way home from the field. “You’ll see things my way, soon.” It promised.

Lina was lunging towards the shadow of Dizzy, her fists ready to strike him in the nose. When the memory bent in on itself, and Lina, was bounced back into the real world.

[cha0ticmimzy]

The Shadow of Fereldan

Autor’s Notes: Before she even faces Corypheus, before she became the Herald of Andraste, she was the Shadow of Fereldan. And she had a job that was left unfinished. Characters: Sylthana Lavellan, Zevran Arainai, Cullen Rutherford, Cassandra Pentaghast, Leliana Warnings: Brief scene of torture, blood Word Count: 2617

Cullen’s men didn’t stop her as she left through Haven’s gate, despite the fact that she walked alone. She had told Leliana what she had planned- what she needed to do. A job that she had taken on before this shit show had begun, before she’d become the Herald of Andraste. She’d left behind the clothing that she had been given, that had been forged for her by the smithy. Instead, she wore what she always did when taking on a job: black. A pair of black boots whose soles had been worn down so where they matched the very arches of her feet. Black trousers that clung to her legs, laden with pockets and weighed down by the daggers that were hidden within. A black top that was fitted to her figure, with a black cloak atop it all. A mask covered the lower part of her face, her eyes and valaslin the other things to tell who she was.

On her back she kept a broadsword, it’s pommel inlaid with emeralds. It had been her father’s, and her father’s father’s, and so on and so forth, handed down through the years to the first born. No one has asked any questions when she strapped it onto her back; they simply gave her a wider berth. She’d lost count with how many daggers she had; a few on one hip, some within the pockets of her trousers, a hidden blade released via firing mechanism upon her left forearm. Pins hidden within her hair, which she had painstakingly coiled back from her face. She was armed to the teeth, quite literally.

She left Haven upon horseback, a wraith streaking across the snowy landscape. Her trusted steed, Malek, strong beneath her. She knew that Cassandra would lecture her, that Cullen would frown upon this- but she had a job, and she would see it through. That much she could do- for him. For the life that had been stolen from her clan, months prior to the Inquisition forming. She could still see it, if she closed her eyes. His body artfully arranged, the ribs splayed out, the bed beneath him nearly black with how much blood had been spilt. It was not for a ritual; she’d seen blood magic rituals. No, the body of Uthriel had been posed. She could still hear the way his lover screamed in horror upon finding him.

Sylthana could still remember the way her nails felt scraping through the guard’s flesh as she slapped him.

The ride to Denerim was long; she was unsure of whether Cullen would have his men come after her. Yet, when she looked to the sky, she could see one of Leliana’s beloved birds tracking her. Always watching from the shadows, she was.

Denerim was familiar; she’d traversed through the city many a time, collecting pay from those who sought out her services. This was where she would find him: Pitch. No one knew his actual name, since he’d abandoned it years prior. No, now he was just a cutthroat for hire, a brutal assassin known for his barbaric ways of killing. Each body he left behind was posed, making a mockery of the body’s owner, and causing quite a bit of trouble when it came to cleaning up afterwards.

She’d fought him, once, years ago, when she was naive and cocky; he’d bested her easily, and she barely left with her skin still intact.

Drakon’s Peak loomed high above the city, visible for miles away before the fortress turned city came to view. It was when she stood a mere hundred feet from the walls of the city that she pulled her mask on and tugged her cowl over her head. She left Malek tied to a tree, where he could eat plenty of grass and not be bothered. Her job would take time; the entire day to track him down, and then to wait until nightfall to make herself known.

Stepping into the city, she fell into the ebb and flow easily. Keeping her head down, her coin purse hidden within the depths of her cloak. The dirt streets were familiar, the old whore houses and taverns singing an old tune. Sapphire hues never strayed from her course, even as she slipped into the alleyways. No one approached her; her reputation within the city itself still very much alive. No one here knew who she was now. All they knew was that the Shadow had returned after taking a sudden hiatus.

She’d been halfway into a Tavern frequented by those who shared her title when a familiar voice caught her ear. Eyes widening, she quickly stepped back, head turning this way and that to catch sight of blond hair and tanned skin. Instead, she found herself pushed to the wall, a blade at her throat and a silky Antivan accent purred in her ear.

“Brave of you to traverse these streets alone.”

A smirk curled her lips as she turned, facing the handsome face of the assassin- and the Hero of Fereldan’s lover. “Bold of you to assume I’m alone.” She replied, watching as Zevran’s face split into a grin. The blade was pulled away, replaced instead with his arms as he pulled her close.

“I’d heard whispers that you were back, but I did not expect to find truth within them.” He murmured, pulling back to study the girl- or, what he could see of her given the mask she wore. How long had it been since he’d last seen her? A year? More? He couldn’t be sure. “I’ve also heard curious whispers about your involvement in a certain heretical movement.”

“Heretical?” Sylthana echoed, disbelief dancing across her features. “I’d hardly say it was heretical. But let’s not talk here.” She lowered her voice, eyes darting about. A smirk pulled at his lips as he nodded in agreement, leading her from the establishment. The market was safer, as odd as it sounded. Voices blended within, and it was hard to tail someone when so many people were mingling.

“Tell me, is it true?” Zevran asked, arm linked with her arm as they wandered through the dirt streets. “If so, I want to help. I owe you that much.” After she’d saved his ass from an ambush four years prior, he’d been in her debt. A debt he hadn’t the chance to pay- or, that she allowed him to pay.

“It is,” Sylthana replied, pulling her mask down to allow it to hand around her throat. “I wouldn’t mind having eyes and ears outside of the Inquisition. I’m working with an old friend of yours. A certain Nightingale.”

Surprise danced across Zevran’s features as he paused in his steps, before a laugh escaped him. “Of course you are. That does not surprise me in the least. Is she well?”

“She’s cold and sarcastic. I like her.”

“That is a rarity, for you to like a human so easily.”

“What can I say?” Sylthana shrugged, pausing to study a jewelers booth. “They aren’t all bad. Most are. But some aren’t.” Moving along without purchasing anything, she let her gaze sweep the market.

The assassin hummed in response, watching as she searched the crowd. “You are here for blood.” It wasn’t a question.

“I am.” She didn’t bother hiding it, not when she was obviously armed. “I’m here for revenge. You see, a friend of mine was murdered wrongfully so,” she began as she tugged him closer, nails pressing into the skin of his arm; a subtle warning. She carefully pressed to fingers into his skin: two were following them. A tap, then another- twenty feet behind. “And I plan on fixing what was broken.”

He nodded slowly in understanding, and carefully steered her towards the richer parts of the city. The dirt turned to stone beneath their feet, and the men who had been tailing them drew back quickly. “So I was right.” He sighed, shaking his head as she stopped them, studying a stunning ball gown of rich sapphire and molten gold through the window of a shop. “You came alone?”

“No. I was followed. Nightingale sent some of her agents after me- no doubt to make sure I returned in one piece. Can’t have the Herald being butchered, can we?”

“Herald?” Zevran’s eyes widened as he stared her down. Without speaking, she removed her glove and raised her hand, the anchor flaring the life. “So you are the one…”

Sylthana gave a bitter smile as she let her hand fall, sliding her hand back into the smooth, worn leather. “Afraid so. Seems we’ve both been chosen for a higher calling, old friend.” Her voice was tired, showing the exhaustion she felt. His heart ached for her. “… Do you happen to know where the Warden is?”

"No," he shook his head, a small smile curling his lips as they began to walk once more. "She is trying to find a cure, you see. The Calling has returned-" 

 "I know. We have a Warden among us. Blackwall. He explained a little of it." She interjected as they began to near Drakon River. "... I need to go, Zevran. I've much work to do, and little time left to accomplish it." 

A hum left him as they stopped, his gaze sweeping over her face. Young, but so very strong. She reminded him of her, of his Warden. The one who held his heart. He reached up, cupping her cheek oh so tenderly. "Do be careful, mi amigo. The man you go after is dangerous." 

 A laugh escaped her as she tossed her arms around him, pulling him close. "You say that as if I'm not. Please, stay out of trouble. And finish off those bastards of an organization soon." She pulled back, smiling as he winked. 

 "If you need me, you know how to find me." With that, he backed away before turning, whistling an old sailor's tune. She sighed, watching him retreat before turning, heading back down to the poor part of the city. 

Mask pulled back into place, hiding all but her eyes. The labyrinth was difficult to traverse if one was not familiar. Thankfully, after spending far too long within the city, she understood the way it worked. Slipping down an alleyway and making quick work of the stairs that lead further down, she quickly found herself among those who could not be trusted with a blade or coin. Perfect. Sauntering into the tavern, she let her gaze drift across its patrons. 

The building itself was set up with a purpose; a large chandelier hung in the center, casting plenty of light there. The walls were cloaked in shadow, perfect for those who did not wish to be seen. Lip curling, she made her way to the bar, settling down within a chair. The bar keep paused, good eye studying her before both widened in surprise. "You're a sight for sore eyes." He commented, though she noted the way sweat began to bead up upon his forehead. "It's on the house," he added, sliding her a flagon of ale. 

She caught it, but did not raise it to her lips. "I'm looking for a man. Goes by the moniker of Pitch." She stated simply, sapphire hues narrowing at the way his eyes darted about. So he was here. 

 "I'm afraid I don't know-" she cut him off, placing the coin purse- purposefully open- upon the top of the bar. Jewels and gold coin alike sat within, glinting in the piss yellow light of the tavern. 

 "Allow me to repeat myself. I'm looking for a man. He goes by Pitch. And I know he is here." The sound of a chair scraping and falling let her know that the man she sought out had heard. And was running. "This is for your silence. Thank you." The back entrance slammed shut. She pushed away from the bar and made her way through the tavern, listening to way silence spread throughout with each table she passed. 

 A Shadow fallen upon the establishment. 

He ran. He knew she was following him, even as the sun descended beyond the horizon and the moon rose. He knew she was there, watching. He'd make a spectacle out of her, bring her into the market, flay her alive. That would teach anyone. He took alleyway after alleyway, twisting and turning through the labyrinth of Denerim's poor. A dead end. No matter. He turned, watching the opening of the alleyway in anticipation. He could hear the drunken voices of sailors singing, the pleasured screams of a whore as she worked for her coin. But she didn't appear. 

The sound of a body hitting stone behind him made him jump. She crouched, her head low, her body relaxed. She looked like a living shadow, a manifestation of the dark itself. He clenched his jaw, and a grin forced its way onto his face. "Big mistake, little elf." He hissed as she raised her head, baring coral hued valaslin and sapphire eyes. There was no light within them- no, that was wrong. There was one, a dark light. A dark delight. Blood lust. Anger. Hatred. For the first time in his life, he felt afraid. But that didn't stop him from rushing her the moment she rose.

She side stepped him easily. He turned, daggers poised for her neck, and was gifted with a harsh, swift kick to the gut. A surprised cough escaped him as he staggered a step back, only to find the slimy dampness of the wall pressing against him.

A moment later and she lunged.

He hadn’t had the time to even prepare, not as she crushed his hand against the wall. He didn’t realize what had happened until he felt warm liquid trickle down his arm, and then the pain echoed through him. She’d driven a dagger through his wrist, into the wall behind him. He went to reach, but she grabbed his other wrist and with quick hands, broke it. The broadsword she carried upon her back was out, and the pommel was driven into his hand, crushing the delicate bones of his fingers.

A scream escaped his lips, echoing through the alley, blending into the sounds of the night.

“You cunt.” He gasped out, beady brown eyes wide as she crouched before him. He could kick her, but his body was in shock; too much pain coursing through his system at once.

She didn’t respond as he continue to throw curses at her, words that could curdle milk with how sour they were. Instead, she brought out another dagger, and placed this one above his thigh. Silence swept over him. “You killed Uthriel Lavellan. I’m here to pay his respects.” Her voice made a chill dance across his skin. Saccharine sweet, dripping in honey and acid.

“You flaunted his death, and the money you received for it. The girl’s father paid you handsomely. And you went on a spending spree. You killed her lover, and then bought yourself pretty new knives and clothes and all the ale you could want.” As she spoke, she began pressing down, the tip of the blade easily piercing through the rough material of his trousers, into the fleshy, meaty part of his thigh. A whine trembled from his lips as she kept the pressure steady. “A big mistake, you know. It makes you easy to track. Any good cutthroat knows not to spend it all at once.”

“Just kill me!” He exclaimed, voice raw and quaking as she suddenly drove the dagger down hard enough that he could feel the reverberation of it striking the hard earth beneath him. A new scream tore through, and he found himself soiling his trousers due to the pain. Tears spilled free, streaking down his thin face. “Just do it!”

“No.” The word made the blood freeze in his veins. She pulled her mask down, revealing her face, and recognition danced through him. He knew that face. He’d fought her, long ago. “You should have killed me when you have the chance.”

“You-” he shook his head in disbelief. “You’re the Shadow of Fereldan. The little runt of a bitch I nearly beat to death.”

A pleased grin stretched across her face, and he realized he had never seen something so terrifying in his life. “I’m going to make you wish for death.” She cooed, leaning close- only to drive a new dagger into his shoulder, pressing through, cracking bone, tearing muscle apart. A hoarse cry left him. “When the city guard finds you, they will be picking the pieces off the ground.” Sitting back on her knees, she reached down, pulling the dagger she’d driven through his thigh free. Blood gushed from the wound, turning the ground beneath him black. Pressing the blade against his thumb, she hummed. “Which finger?”

“Please, have mercy!”

“Ah, thumb then. Alright.”

“Have mercy!”

The ride back to Haven was a pleasant one. The weather was nice, and she ran into no trouble on the road. Malek was in a pleasant mood as well, dancing at times as he trotted along the path. She’d sent a raven home, carrying a parchment with a lock of hair, the words reading nothing more than a simple “It is done.”

As she traveled, the air grew colder, cleaner, clearer. She drew in a deep breath of the mountain air as she breached the top, the Breach in the sky coming into view. Sapphire hues lingered upon it for a moment, taking in its sickly green shade, before she clicked her tongue one, directing her mount down the strep incline.

No one greeted her as she approached, or as she passed Malek into the hands of a stable boy. The Iron Bull watched her from his tent, an understanding air about him. Krem gave her a tense nod, his lips drawn thin. Cullen was not with his men, nor could she see Cassandra training, cutting the life out of a training dummy.

Varric sat by the fire and watched her with a wary but understanding gaze as she walked past. She cared not for these looks. Leliana was within her tent, a relief she hadn’t realized she’d been wanting. Idly, she began to set the weapons she’d borrowed down, keeping her own on her person.

“I heard word from Denerim that the cutthroat Pitch was found dead.” Leliana commented, not looking up from her reports. Sylthana made a noise of disinterest. “The city guard found him with his legs pulled out of their sockets and flayed, his jaw broken, and all of his fingers cut off. He was also missing his eyes.”

“How curious.” Sylthana replied, though she didn’t bother keeping the pleased tone from her voice.

“Curious, indeed.” Leliana replied, turning to study the elven woman. “I will not ask why you decided to do this, only that I wish you now be at peace.”

“Peace doesn’t exist for people like us, Leliana.” She sighed, stepping away from the table. “We’ve too much blood on our hands to ever truly find it.” Leliana nodded once, understanding. “Zevran said hello. I assume Cullen and Cassandra are waiting within to lecture me?” She asked, rolling her shoulders once, twice.

“I was unaware that you knew him.” Sister Nightingale murmured, eyes widening in surprise. She quickly composed herself and nodded, amusement dancing upon her words. “I believe Cullen has been rehearsing what he wishes to say to you.”

“Lovely. Care to join me as I receive my verbal lashing?” Sylthana mused, smiling as Leliana set aside her reports to walk with her into the Chantry. Almost immediately, Cullen and Cassandre descended upon her.

“Have you any idea how worried we’ve been? You’re the Herald of Andraste! You can’t just up and leave when you wish!” Cullen scolded, lip curling up.

“You should not have gone alone. What if something had happened? This was reckless and foolish.” Cassandra shook her head, frowning deeply.

Sylthana smiled, moving past her advisors. “Hello, Josephine. Have we received word from my clan?” She asked, watching as surprise danced across the ambassador’s features.

“Yes, your worship. We just did.”

“Good. Have it delivered to my quarters. Tell me, what news have we of the Templars? Are they willing the meet?” She asked, enjoying the stunned silence from Cullen and Cassandra. Leliana let out a soft laugh as Sylthana turned to study the quarter with a raised brow. “Well, don’t just stand there! We’ve a job to do, do we not?”

“Ri-right, of course.” Cullen coughed, rubbing the back of his neck as he quickly walked past the Inquisitor, leading the way to the War Room. Cassandra remained standing in the hall, Leliana beside her.

“What just happened?” The Seeker asked as she watched the Inquisitor and Ambassador follow the Commander. Leliana laughed, a soft, rare noise.

“That, dear Seeker, is the Inquisitor in her prime.”

[soriseerakyra]

Honor Your Father, Love Your Mother

If you don’t read Be Kind To Your Daughters this will make no sense, so please read that first

It was January when you returned to the old apartment you and your mother shared. The moment you opened the door, the smell of her perfume wafted through your nose. The building itself had been abandoned not long after you had gone to live with your father. When you were old enough you had begun sending money to a service that was able to maintain your small home. It was sentimental and it wasn’t smart, you knew that. Being so close to Gotham put you in jeopardy, he would realize that you came here eventually, especially since you have his attention now. However, there is still a childish part of you that longs to be surrounded by your mother, the person who loved you the most, and it was a large enough part that you didn’t mind being exposed.

Sitting on the old, worn couch, you close your eyes and begin to finger a necklace resting on your neck. Your mother had left you a locket. It was one of the things that you discovered when you first came back. It was stashed under a locked safe, hidden preciously underneath your mother’s bed.  It was a picture of her holding you, the first time she brought you home from the hospital. Likely taken by a friend or a family member. From the delicate packaging you’d found it in, she was probably planning on giving it to you as a gift.

The wooden frame of the building creeks as wind passes through the decrepit building. It wasn’t safe to stay in this apartment for too long. Terminates had been eating at the wood, mold and rot had begun to set into the crooks and spaces of the building. You probably should have paid to have the entire building up kept, but planning for the future is something that you have only recently gotten used to.

You stand from the couch when you feel sleep beginning to wash over your limbs. The moment you stand there is a creek that sounds through the building, but it doesn’t come from you, and it instead comes from the entryway of the apartment.

You don’t jump when the footsteps make their way into the apartment and start walking down the short hallway.  Instead you wait until the footsteps come and stop at the doorway.

You turn a meet a familiar pair of blue eyes looking at you rather tiredly. You don’t say anything to the man, but you can’t help but be curious at his appearance. Clearly, he had no intention of trying to capture you, wouldn’t he need his bat suit for that?

“I came to return this,” he starts holding up a small leather bound black book. You could see the pale gold stitching of “diary” on the cover. He doesn’t move from his position and places the book on a small wooden end table that sits at the mouth of the doorway. “I didn’t think you should leave without having it.”

He rubs his black gloved hands together as if trying to make himself warm. You can tell it’s just to humanize the atmosphere in the room though. There is no reason for him to be cold, especially with that heavy black coat he’s wearing.

“Your hair is longer,” he offers as he slowly starts to walk into the room, approaching you the way one would a wild animal. “It’s pretty.”

Your hand absently comes up to curl around the ends of your hair, “My mother used to wear it this way.”

“I see.”

It’s awkward silence that follows, he didn’t know what to say. How could he, he doesn’t know anything about your mother?

“The boys they really miss you.”

“Do they?” you ask with a raised eyebrow. “Are you sure it’s not guilt they’re feeling? You can’t miss someone you don’t know.”

A heavy sigh falls from his mouth, and you notice that he is still hesitant about moving around the room. “If I wanted to kill you I would have by now.”

His blue eyes flash to yours, “So, you’ve gotten stronger then?”

“I’ve had two years to improve, it would be foolish not to make use of that time.”

He moves into the room and takes a seat on the small couch where you had been sitting. While he is moving, you notice the hint of gray that has started to appear in his hair. He’s getting older, and you wonder if the reason that he didn’t come in his suit is because he’s in pain. Body hurting from all the years that he has been abusing it.

“What have you been doing for these past two years?” he questions rather cordially.

You don’t respond as you walk over to the living room window. You see the sleek blackness of one of his sports cars.

“You came here by yourself?” You question. “What if I wanted to kill you?”

“It was a chance I was willing to take. I figured you wouldn’t want to desecrate the place that means the most to you by killing me.”

“I see, so you took a calculated risk, and assumed that I hadn’t turned into a rabid murderer.”

“Not if you were the daughter your mother raised.”

Your eyes cut to him rather sharply and a bitter distaste floods your mouth. “Just because you read some book, don’t act like you know her, or me.” “Your right, I’m sorry.” He tries to appease but your shoulders are tense and there is an anger in your tone that makes him question his judgement in coming here unprotected.

The room is made colder by your anger as the fleeting comfortability of your conversation is sucked out of the room by his poor choice in words. You decide it would be best to remove yourself from the conversation. With practiced soft footsteps, you’re out of the apartment, diary in hand.

Bruce doesn’t try to stop you, he knows you’ll be back. He’d been watching your movements for the past year after all.

*** It’s the middle of February when you return to your mother’s apartment. The thirteenth to be precise. The day before your beloved mother’s birthday.

You had been excited to return to the apartment so close to such a happy occasion, you’d even taken the opportunity to bake your mothers favorite cupcakes. You’d have one today and the rest tomorrow, when you were back in your home.

But the joy you had been expecting to wash over you had been broken the moment that you had stepped into the apartment building. The first step told you that something was wrong. There was no familiar creek in the stair when you pressed your weight down on the wooden slat. No faint fall of saw dust, when you opened and closed the heavy doors. There was no faint draft giving the apartment a slight chill. It was not the building you grew up in anymore.

Your suspicions had been confirmed when you grabbed the familiar door knob of your mother’s apartment. It rusted red had been replaced with shiny golden new one, and although in the same style, there was nothing the said home about this door knob.

Your heart drops when you press open the door. The sweet smell of your mother’s perfume doesn’t great you, nor does the wet dampness of mold or rot. The smell makes you want to vomit as it hits the sensors of your nose. Wood polish. It was the same that Alfred used to make sure that the furniture was bright in the manor.

Looking around the apartment you noticed that almost nothing was out of place, that a less observant person would not have noticed the changes that have been made, but you do. The pale yellow of the walls had been updated, it was the same color, but clearly a fresh coat of paint had been slathered over the walls.

He’d had the floors torn up too. Likely in an effort to get rid of the termites. He had had new hardwood floors installed and that’s where the smell was coming from. The table that stood at the mouth of the hall way stood there seemingly unbothered, but it had been polished as well.

The torn fabric of your mother’s couch cushions was mended or brand new, you couldn’t tell. Your eyes were starting to darken. Becoming blinded by tears and rage.

Why does he do this? Why does he try to fix things that aren’t broken? Throwing money at you wouldn’t make you the person he wanted you to be so why would he come here and try to ruin the only good part about you?

The room starts to feel suffocating the more that the scent of wood fills your nose. He’d replaced the curtains, that kitchen counter, the television, everything. Everything here was fake. Your mother wasn’t here anymore, he killed her. He took everything away that made this apartment hers, yours and replaced it with a fake.

You can feel the control that you had so diligently practiced for the last two years begin to slip from your grasp. The first thing that starts to float are the new cushions, next it’s the table, then the television, and then the floor boards.

*** He’d rushed over the minute the camera watching that apartment had been tripped. He’d expected her to return on her mother’s birthday. Her arriving early would mean that he wouldn’t get the chance to place the flowers he had ordered on the kitchen top. He’d hoped she liked his gesture; restoring her old apartment. Perhaps they could have a conversation about what made the place so special to her.

The car stops in front of the apartment building and as soon as his foot steps onto the snowy side walk he knows that something is wrong. The air feels heavier here than it does in all of the other places around. There is a nervous energy that wracks at his spine as he begins his ascent up the chairs to her top floor apartment.

He stops in front of the newly furnished door and begins to turn the doorknob, only stopping when he hears an agonized scream from inside of the room. He pushes through the fear when he hears sobbing from inside.

When he pushes open the door his eyes widen with amazement at the things he sees. Furniture floating and bobbing up in down in a rather rhythmic like dance, moving up or down every time she took in a breath.  As he walked in he realized that he would have to watch his footing. The newly installed floor was missing key pieces and a misstep could cause him to break his neck.

When he is safely out of the entrance hallway he takes the time to observe the sobbing girl, curled in the middle of the living room floor. She looked as little as she did when she was first brought to him when she had just turned ten.  Her large unbuttoned pea coat looks like a blanket that a child would cling onto. She turns to him, with wide teary eyes and flushed cheeks. Her hair is ticking to her forehead and eyebrows are furrowed like she is in pain. A sob wracks her form when she sees him and his heartbreaks when he realizes that he is the cause of her pain. “Why did you do it?!” She questions

“I was trying to help,” he offers.

“Everything is gone, you got rid of everything, you got rid of her!” She screech’s. In her agony, she sends knife flying past his head. A cut opening on the high point of his cheek, an indication of how close she had just come to ending him.

“I wanted to help this place was falling apart.”

There is a pained shake of her head and her hands come up to cover her ears as if she is trying to block out the sound of his voice.

“Shut UP!” She screams, her voice comes across as an echo and then her eyes begin to turn white with rage. “Just Leave!”

The objects that’d been whirling around the room begin to spin violently and he is afraid. The foundations of the building begin to shake and wind begins to spew through the room as the windows are blown out.

He watches as tears as she moans and buries her face into her knees. His throat is tight at the sight of her. He had done this to her. No matter what he seemed to do when it came to her, he always seemed to make things worse than they should have been. He knew he should respect her wishes, to leave her alone like she asked, but would that be what a good father would do?

Instead of quietly leaving the room and waiting for her to calm down, he carefully maneuvered through the flying furniture, head almost coming into contact with a loose floorboard.

Carefully he kneeled next to her, placing a large warm hand on her back.  Her head snaps up to look at him, eyes a ghostly white. Her lips pull back in a snarl, probably getting ready to shout at him to leave again, but he doesn’t allow her to speak. Quickly he uses the hand that is resting on her back to pull her into him, brining her into a tight hug. Her body stiffens and for a few tense minutes they stay that way in silence, object circling around them menacingly.

He almost lets out a sigh of relief when her arms wrap themselves around his frame. Her quiet sobbing feels strange as she jerks and coughs against his form, tears sinking through his shirt, but he continues to hold her.

Finally, the room begins to turn back to normal. The largest objects fall limply to the ground first. The room is ruined, but he imagined the well put together apartment that she’d walked into had looked like a disaster zone in her mind, so this would be no different.

“I’m sorry,” He mumbles into her hair.

She doesn’t say anything but her hands clench around the fabric of his coat and she continues to cry.

*** It’s March and the flowers are beginning to bloom again.  You are on your hands and knees, scrubbing the tile of your mother’s apartment. After the incident, you had begun to put the apartment together by hand. Bruce had given you the information about where the original items from the apartment had been sent and he had even helped you bring some of them back by hand. The things that weren’t completely destroyed you had returned to their rightful places, but things like the ripped-up couch stayed in the dump where they belonged.

There is a knock on the door, and you know by the pattern that it is Bruce. You don’t bother to get up from your position to open the door, a slight incline of your head is more than enough.

The slight creek from the hallway followed by the familiar heavy steps lets you know that he came in.

“It’s always a little surprising when you do that,” He comments.  You stand from your position in the kitchen. You look over the counter to see him standing in the middle of the living room.

“It looks nice,” he comments with a weak smile. You stare blankly at him.

“What’s that?” You question looking at the man’s hands.

He is carrying a small bag in his hands. He doesn’t say anything and instead walks over to the counter and places it in front of you. Curiously, your hand finds itself digging through the bag. Pulling out a square box, your eyes get wide as you begin to read what it said.

“This is-“

“When I read her journal, I saw this was the fragrance she wore. I noticed that whenever I came in here it would always have that smell. I figured I could at least get you this, to make this place feel like home again.”

You stare up at him up with grateful eyes. It was the one thing you hadn’t had the time to go out and replace yet.

You take it and walk into the bedroom, placing it down on the small vanity to use later. When you return to the living room you seem him looking at the pictures on the one of the small shelves.

“Your mother was beautiful,” he comments, looking at the various pictures of you and your mother together smiling. “I wish I knew her better.”

A hollow chuckle leaves your lips at the absurdity of his statement, “Yes, I imagine an hour isn’t long enough to get to know someone.”

It sounds harsh leaving your lips, and you know it shouldn’t. Your mother was who she was, and even when she was alive, you were never ashamed of her nor did you think ill of her clients. However, when it came to Bruce, there was a bitterness that was hard for you to overcome.

There is an awkward silence that falls over the room. Blue eyes watch you warily from his position in the living room, and you feel guilt and anger begin to eat at your belly.

“Did you not like me because of what my mother was?” It’s a hard question that forces itself past your lips and even just asking it makes tears come out of your eyes.

His blue eyes look at you wide in shock and his lips part as if he was going to say something but the words weren’t able to leave his lips.

“At first, I thought you knew about my powers and that’s why you didn’t want me. And then I found out who you were and I thought that can’t be the reason. Then you went and you got Tim and I thought that you really didn’t like me, that there was something wrong with me.”

You stop to wipe a tear that began to fall down your cheek, “and then Damian came, and he was horrible, and you still didn’t want anything to do with me. Even though we were the same. And the only thing that I could think of was that you were ashamed of me, because of how I got here. And that felt horrible especially considering who Damian’s mother is. Is being a hooker really worse than being a murder?”

He looked at you with strange eyes, a look you couldn’t actually understand. You realized you didn’t know him well enough to decipher the looks he had on his face.

He walks closer to you, finally joining you in the kitchen.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m sorry that I made you feel that way. But when you came to me, you were so different than the way I had found Dick or Jason. You were just you. I didn’t know about your powers until you left. To me you were just a little girl who had lost her mother and were forced to come live with a stranger. I think a part of me thought that you would be better off without me forcing myself onto you. The only way I knew how to help them was to make you into someone like me, but I couldn’t do that with you. You can’t get revenge on cancer, there was no boogey for me to teach you not be afraid of. Those boys, the way that I found them, they were already drenched in this life. They were already two steps away from becoming like me. You weren’t, so I couldn’t help you, not an any healthy way at least.”

You aren’t sure how to reply, realizing that his attitude and his dismissive treatment of you had nothing to do with being ashamed of you, but being incompetent.

“I even thought that perhaps that life with me wouldn’t be for the best for you. I had made such a mess of the others; how could I raise you? But a selfish part of me wanted to keep you with me, even if I couldn’t give you what you needed or wanted. As a result, I made the mistakes that I wanted to avoid. I failed again.”

His large warm hands find themselves resting on your shoulders and he squeezes your shoulders tight with affection, “But please know that I have never been and never will be ashamed of you or your mother.”

Your throat is tight with emotion and just like a month ago, you find your face buried in his chest arms wrapped around his back, crying.

*** Its April and you sit in your mother’s apartment watching people walking down the busy street enjoying the new warmth of the late spring sun. The new warmth was welcome change to the rather dour winter that you had experienced.

Sitting in the repaired apartment you felt strange. You realized that this was no longer your mother’s apartment, it was just yours. As much as you had tried to preserve what was left of her, every time that you set foot in the room, scrubbed some dirty away from a surface, or replaced some run-down furniture, you were making the apartment yours. The gradual changes allowed you to grieve for your mother properly, in a way that you hadn’t been allowed when you were younger, and it had you feeling lighter and happier than you had been.

“I’m usually not one for tea, but this one isn’t bad,” a voice comments pulling your attention away from your window.

Your eyes drift to the small dining room table, where your father sits sipping tea from some old china that your mother had been keen enough to pinch from one of her clients.

“It’s just green tea with lemon,” you reply with a raised eyebrow. “Nothing special.”

He looks at you somewhat sheepishly, “Just trying to make conversation.”

You walk over and sit across from him at the small table, fingers almost immediately beginning to tap on the surface of the table. “I’m surprised that you haven’t asked me what I did for the last two years, especially since I made such a show of leaving.”

His learned blue eyes stare at you over the rim of the small cup before he places it down.  A small rather fatherly smile crosses his features, and your cheeks flush in surprise by the warmth on his face.

“I don’t have much of a reason to ask, do I?”

“What do you mean?”

“You already told me you gave the money away, and I have a feeling it wasn’t to a criminal organization, was it?”

You cut your eyes away from him, “No.”

“Are you going to tell me where?”

“Charity.”

“Which one?”

“Is that important?”

“Not really, no,” he says picking up the cup and taking another sip. “It just that a few of our subsidiary charities, especially the ones having to do with placing children in homes, have been getting extremely large donations for the past two years. Maybe it’s just a coincidence.”

“Maybe someone didn’t know that Wayne enterprises infests every aspect of this economy and just happened to give money not knowing where it was going.”

“Infests?” He questions with a chuckle. “I’ve never heard anyone compare my company to an infestation before.”

“Yeah well that is what it seems like,” you say arms crossed over your chest. “You have a hand in everything, don’t you?”

“Perhaps.”

You roll your eyes, “I went away to practice too. Believe it or not I was having even more trouble controlling my powers when I left. All though look what good that did me.”

“Did you find someone to help you?” He questions.

“No, not many people offer telekinetic training out in the open,” You say with a roll of your eyes. “What I worked on was my emotions. When I left, I was at an emotional high. I didn’t know how much longer I would have before my emotions would consume me. Outbursts like the one you saw were common place. So, after I got rid of the money, I bought a small apartment and I meditated.”

“Where?”

“If I told you that when I run away again you’ll find me,” you say with pursed lips.

It takes him a minute to realize your joking, and when he does he allows a small smirk to run over his features.

“Are you planning on staying here now?”

Your eyes glance at the apartment and your eyes soften at the idea, “Are you going to come over and bother me every day?”

“Is once a week too much?” He questions. “I feel like we still have a lot to learn about each other. It would be easier if you came home.”

“I am home,” you bite quickly, the phrase coming out harsher than you intended it too, but he doesn’t react negatively almost as if he was expecting the reaction.

There is heavy silence that falls over the room.

“They don’t know that you’re back yet,” he says quietly watching your features for your reaction.

“Is Jason’s hand okay?”

“Yes, I think his pride was more wounded than his hand was.”

“I see.”

“If you don’t want to move back in, you should at least come by and visit.”

“I hope you aren’t expecting some big happy family reunion.”

“Never that, but it would help to alleviate some of the guilt that they been dealing with since you’ve been gone. It’s probably the only request I’ll have for you.”

You stare at him blankly for a moment. In your mind, the only person that you need to see is Jason and that was only to apologize, the rest you had no desire to see.

“If that’s what you want,” you comply, surprising yourself a little. After all, appeasing your father one little thing couldn’t hurt too much.

“Oh, are you going to start being nice to me now?” He asks with a playful smile.

“Don’t press your luck,” you say in a serious tone. “I just don’t hate you as much as before.”

A genuine smile spreads over his features, “That’s good enough for me.”

@starlabstrash, 

[italicwatches]

Animal Sentai Zyuohger - Episode 26

Oh my god this child has no concept of consideration for other people. …Anyways, it’s Animal Sentai Zyuohger, episode 26. Here we GO!

-We begin with the whole gang at a cafe, having treats and sweets, and Misao is being a bit melodramatic…And that’s when a man passing by spots Yamato. And it turns out this is an old friend of his from his college days, Daichi!

-Meanwhile Bunglay is trying to get useful information out of people and it’s not going well. As up in the Big Bow, Genis watches, and he has no idea what Bunglay is looking for…But the resulting chaos does make the game interesting. Even Kubar’s fear and erratic behavior is an interesting element to the game…

-Opening!

-Episode 26! To Protect a Special Day

-To the cabin, where Yamato has brought Daichi, and they start catching up as he gets to meet all of Yamato’s comrades…Misao please quit being a sad sack. Inevitably, they end up talking about their college days…Yamato was driven back then. Super serious and studious in class, and he’d inevitably have a crowd of folks who he’d go over the material with again, and he was always organizing get-togethers at the zoo or out in the forest…It was like any time he wasn’t helping people, he was trying to help animals and inspire people to see what he saw…

-Yeah, that sounds like Yamato alright. And Yamato ribs Daichi for how emotional he’d get whenever they got to see an animal birth, but Yamato got pretty emotional too, and these two fall into an easy rhythm…And that’s when it comes out that Daichi’s getting married. He’s been trying to get ahold of Yamato to invite him, and YES HE WILL ABSOLUTELY BE THERE!

-Eventually Yamato’s walking Daichi back into town, and they’re talking about his beloved. A coworker at his company, certainly not the type he’d have ever thought he’d be marrying…But something about her, just…She makes him happy, you know?

-And Yamato couldn’t possibly be happier for his friend. That kind of connection, it’s, it’s really important. He’ll be there on this precious day of yours, man. And as the two part for the day, Bunglay watches…

-Cut to the big day. Yamato’s getting into his best suit, spruced up a little to be more formal and less mournful. And oh, you look so handsome, and…Sela why are you in a fancy dress? …WHY ARE YOU ALL IN FORMALWEAR? Well, their versions of formalwear. Sela, Tusk and Amu look good. Leo just…Not so much. But they’ll be joining, if that’s alright. Oh and Misao shows up in a nice grey suit and Yamato realizes what a mess of a situation this will be.

-To the actual chapel, where Yamato’s able to get permission for them to join. They’ll be up in the balcony, but everyone’s still quite happy for the opportunity. While Bunglay prepares to start up his own troubles…

-The actual ceremony begins, and it’s just your classic Western-inspired wedding…When the zyumen get vibes. Oh god. Shit. …They’re not telling Yamato. They’ve got to slip out of here. Of course, he spots them leaving…

-And they find Bunglay! Who’s outright intending to wreck the wedding and stir up some shit for that Yamato kid. If he can endure the past being broken, how will he handle a fresh death in the present? There’s only one way to find out!

-Oh fuck you. Instincts Awakened! Champion of the surging waves…ZYUOH SHARK! Champion of the savannah…ZYUOH LION! Champion of the forest…ZYUOH ELEPHANT! Champion of the snowy drifts…ZYUOH TIGER! Champion of the world…ZYUOH THE WORLD! Animal Sentai, ZYUOHGER!

-And as the fight begins, Yamato back at the wedding is realizing something’s not right…

-While the rest of the crew fights, and does everything they can to overpower Bunglay…Managing to push him back inch by inch with all of their strength together…! They don’t even need to beat him, they need to hold him off, keep him away from that precious place…When he manages to throw them off, it’s Beasts Unleashed!

-But Leo and Tusk get ripped out of their armors, as the girls have to hold the line…Only to eat equally powerful blows! The World’s on his own now, to buy time until they can recover, or pull a safe retreat…

-As Yamato’s realizing what’s up. And he’s got to make his exit, because they wouldn’t all be gone, this long, if not for one reason. He slips out, of course noticed by Daichi, and begins to peer across the city…There! And they’re fighting BUNGLAY?! Fuck…!

-At the battlefield, The World is just trying to hold the line, as it’s All Beasts Unleashed! But even with all three, he doesn’t manage to do much. Bungled can respect that power, kid, but you’ve got no training, no skill to keep your rhythm up!

-Yamato arrives right after Misao goes down, and no, you weren’t supposed to be here…They were trying to make sure you could have that precious day with your friend, and that this bastard didn’t ruin it…He wants to kill Daichi…!

-…Well then.

-GORILLA! Instincts Awakened! Gorilla meets Bunglay’s anchors with his fists, holding Bunglay back with sheer force…But he manages to get loose, and calls up an old MotW before making his escape!

-Back at the chapel, Daichi’s all concerned about the missing Yamato as he and his bride make their exit…When Bunglay arrives, ready to kill! Gorilla manages to trash the MotW, but Bunglay’s already gone…He needs to get out of here, and fast. Instincts Awakened! The Eagle spreads his wings, and takes flight!

-And as Bunglay raises a blade to bring it down…Eagle slams in with the Riser, and cuts him through! This precious connection, this bond that was just forged…You, will not, HARM IT! THEY ARE UNDER HIS PROTECTION! The fight is on, as he almost immediately snares Bunglay, ripping him up into the sky…

-And Daichi realizes, that phrase, that voice…It all starts to make sense.

-While Eagle throws Bunglay through a fucking windmill before dropping him, and taking the fight to a field miles away from the chapel. He fights with a ferocity that Bunglay just can’t keep up with, striking again and again before the man can even recover…Until finally, he’s forced to just draw a big MotW out of Eagle’s skull and pull a runner!

-The others arrive at that, too late to stop Bunglay…But they can help stop this. Animal Kingdom Combination! THREE! FOUR! NINE! FIVE! TWO! SEVEN! EIGHT! SIX! ONE! WILD TOUSAI KING!

-Mecha fight. It’s just a mecha fight, guys. This isn’t even a new MotW to use a new gimmick, he’s just a guy. ZYUOH DIRECT STRAIGHT!

-In the aftermath, Yamato and his friends are able to be there in the end for the couple…and Daichi can only thank Yamato for what he did. For everything he did.

-While, deep in the woods, the eagle digs, guided by the Symbol…When he finds a Cube Animal in the soil. And he’s confronted by Larri, who recognizes Bard from a long history…

-Credits!

That was a pretty solid episode. Lots of good character meat, and oh man, what’s going to happen with Bard and Larri? I guess the only way to find out is to come back next time, for episode TWENTY SEVEN of Animal Sentai Zyuohger! Wait for it!

[silverwing2522]

The Red Death

When i first met Arkady, i was struck by his tragedy. He was known as a serial killer, but the truth behind it was untold. Due to his mutation, anyone in the vicinity of him would fall sick, weaken and eventually die. First his family, and his childhood friends. Everywhere he went, people died. He didnt know why, but he knew it was his fault. It drove him mad. He gave in and stopped fighting who he thought he was. A killer. He learned to only accept it, but to find power and joy in it.

But that power, that joy is tainted. It's a lie, told to comfort himself. Because the truth was, he could never truly experience true love or happiness.

He thought he could, with me.

My memory of that time is hazy, part of a curse i'm under that took away the memory of my soulmate. The intention being to seperate me from ironfist and weaken our partnership. But he wasnt my soulmate everyone was lead to believe. It was a man nicknamed Sabretooth. And the consequences of wiping my memory of him, spanned wider and further than one couldve imagined.

Now here i am, investigating a series of mysterious deaths of the animals in a reverse.

I pick up his scent, and the stench of death lingers with it. But not of the animals he has killed, but of his own. My beloved Red is dying.

I was immune to his mutation. My counteracted his and we lived in tandem. He fed on the life force of living beings and i fed on their death and decay of their remains. His skin was white and mine was jet black. His eyes were red and mine glowed a bright blue. His hair was blonde and mine a dark red. I was his Tsarina and he was my Red.

I doted on him and every morning i was around him, i would style his hair for the day. It was our routine. And it meant everything to him, that little morning ritual.

As i squatted besides Danny and listened to him examine the animal corpses and bloody trails surrounding them, i knew i had to do something. I needed to protect Red. Just like i always did.

I did everything i could that day to knock them off their track. Danny and the reserve park rangers. I used my empathic powers to make them doubt crucial moves and decisions, so that they would go in completely the wrong direction. I could feel Red, i knew he was somewhere nearby, i kept track of his scent, using it to hone where he was, so i could find him later.

When the sun went down, they gave up the search for the night. I followed them silently back. They didnt talk to me anyway, both focussed on working it out together. That was always Danny's' fallacy, he would always underestimate what i could do. He would take things on to himself more and very rarely reach out for my help. He liked to isolate himself. I didnt mind, because im the same way. I understand.

There were times where i could feel like he wanted to, but he would then retreat back into himself. I had no interest in prodding him about it. My attitude was, if he wanted to talk - he'd talk.

Later when we were in bed and he was sound asleep next to me, i crept outside.

I had very little on. Just my nightgown, snow boots and long hooded brown fur coat. I was built to endure, so the cold and snow bothered me very little. I marched on, into the woods following the sickly scent.

Eventually i found the end. A shack, rotten and falling apart. The door was left ajar, so i opened it carefully and stepped inside.

It was dark, and i could hear coughing and groaning in the back room. My Red!

"Red....?"

The noises stopped and everything went very still and quiet.

"Red...it's me. It's Sessa. I'm coming in."

I gently walked to the back bedroom and i could see through the crack of the door a faint light from a camping lantern. It cast a soft glow across the floor. A couple of bed springs creaked as he moved off the bed.

"Tsarina?! <is it really you?>", his voice strained and he leaned against the door as it opened against his weight. I caught him before he fell.

"Da! <i am here. I am here now. I was nearby earlier when i caught your scent. I was with iron fist at the time so couldnt come sooner>"

"I missed you Tsarina."

His arms circled around my waist as he held onto me. I lowered him to sit back on the bed and he slumped on his side against the mattress and pillows. All the linens were old and well worn, and it was icy cold in the room. Is this where my Red was to die?

Yes.

There was nowhere else he could be. No where else he could go.

And out of everyone who lived on this planet, only i could be the one to be here with him, right now. To comfort him in his last remaining hours. He was so weak and in so much pain.

I looked around his room and saw the remains of animals he had killed. I tucked him into bed and i burnt and consumed the animal remains in the blue fire of my demonic power. When i finished i sat beside him on the bed and took his hands and passed on some of the resurrection power i hold in me. His Carbonadium coils came out of his wrists and wrapped themselves around my arms.

"<what are you doing?>", he enquired.

"<Just a little bit of life. It wont last long, but maybe enough for us to say goodbye.>"

His coils circled around my waist and i could feel his strength returning a little. He brushed his hand down the side of my face, catching my chin in his thumb and forefinger, he brought my face nearer to his.

Our lips met for the second time in the space we had known each other. And i was felt the yielding, wanting tenderness as he kissed me. His fingertips sought through my hair, holding my head close to his. He turned us over to our side on the bed and his legs entwined with mine.

The blood in my veins raced round my body as my heart broke into a millions pieces at his touch. The shape of him felt familar, as did the intense warmth between us. I wanted more, and i could sense he wanted the same.

He pushed the coat to expose my torso, and ran his tongue down the front of my neck, down the valley between my breasts, towards my stomach. I arched my back and shrugged my arms out of my coat. I held tightly onto the back of his head as he moved lower. I ached so much for his touch. It reminded me of something, but i couldnt place what. In the end i let myself go.

Two hours later we laid side by side, panting, intensely staring at each other. I could feel his strength being to wane. It wasnt going to be long now.

"Tsarina, you must do something for me."

"What?"

"<Please bear my child. Let me live on, with you. Please. I dont want my life to be in vain. I want to leave at least one good thing behind. Then i...Then i can rest in peace.>"

I knew already there was a 50/50 chance of that happening anyway, after what we just done.

He pleaded and i saw the look of despair and desperation in his eyes. It wasnt up to me, it either would happen or it would not. Mother nature would make the decision, not me.

But now was not the time for realism.

"<yes my love, i will have your child and i will raise them with the knowledge of how much you wanted and loved them. And i will do my best to honour that.> "

His hand rested on my cheek and he closed his eyes with a sigh.

"I missed you."

"I missed you too."

I had, i had missed him. I remembered feeling something but not being able to develop it. Keeping it at the back of my mind, pushing it away. I loved him, there was no denying it now. It comes in many forms, and my love for Arkady came from a place of compassion and pure empathy.

Both of us has been made to be monsters. Both of us had been denied things we needed to survive. Both of us craved deep down for a better life than the one we had been given.

Maybe now i can give that to him. Maybe.

He shuffled closer and rested his head against the side of my neck and his hand on my chest - over my heart. It beat into his palm, and every time it got softer and softer as i felt his life force ebb away. I felt it coming long before he did. And i was ready. I was making peace with it, as he clung onto me sobbing into my shoulder. I held him close to me and shushed him. He felt like a child, scared of the dark. I dove into his emotions and erased the fear and took the pain away. And i felt him slip away, along with the happiness i instilled within him empathically.

I held his body against mine for a little while longer, before i moved away. Then i put on my coat and took him outside to be buried. I broke off two pieces of wood from the shack and made a cross. I finished the burial by scratching his name into the wood and plunging it into the ground.

May my Red Tsar forever find his peace.

But i felt hollow inside and my head felt full of sorrow. I trudged back down the snowy slope, through the trees i whispered his name.

"Arkady..."

When i got back to the cabin, i went straight to the bedroom. Danny was stirred from his slumber and saw me standing there, with tears overflowing down my cheeks.

He rose and hugged me. He felt so warm, so alive. He felt and smelt of home. And i fell into him and sobbed my heart out. He held onto me tighter. And i whispered that it was Omega Red who had been behind the animal killings. He was dying, and i was protecting him and now...now he's dead.

He didnt say anything. He didnt need to, he just held me and i felt he understood.

I felt cold with death inside me. And it hurt so much. I started to shiver in his arms.

He put me to bed and wrapped me up against his body. He felt so warm, so nice. He felt like home.

I kissed him.

I kissed him again and he kissed me back.

We moved together, and he removed my nightgown. He filled me with warmth and life. He engorged me with light and with the feeling of love.

Neither of us knew where this came from, or even why we wanted this so much. We were friends, nothing more.

Werent we?!

No. We were more. So much more. I needed this. I needed him. And i felt his intense need for me, for this.

We didnt stop, we continued on, touching, kissing, pushing and pulling one another along. His hands trailing across my skin, setting it on fire. My lips trembling against his. Our moans in chorus - a sweet melody we made.

We melded together, and i felt a rising within me. Like an explosion of everything in the universe coming to a climax deep within.

To say we saw stars was an understatement. We came in unison. And everything changed for us after that night.