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deathmybride · 7 months ago

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*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ these violent delights | davos blackwood (part 3) *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

ship: davos blackwood x fem!oc

warnings: angst, descriptions of battle

summary: cersha and davos face the aftermath of their decisions.

word count: 1551

a/n: thanks so much for all the love on parts 1 and 2! i'd like to give special thanks to @aemondslove @disillusioned-phantasma @anaviieiraaa @deepestlovert @flordiakilos @kitty2694 @kpopfanfictionfantacies @sometings @nikkilsworld @gladiatorgladiator @borislava17 @oshun22 and most especially @spider-stark for their support by re-blogging or commenting on one or both of the previous parts. It really means the world to me, and I can't express how grateful I am for any feedback or support on this series! It is quickly becoming longer than I anticipated so do let me know if you want to read more :)

Dusk had settled by the time their bowls were empty. Cersha’s eyes were dark pools as she regarded him, their stillness unbroken but for the flickering candlelight. They were tapers made from beeswax, and they sweetened the air between them. Davos picked his teeth broodily with a fish bone and tried to hide the burden of her stare.

“I must return to Stone Hedge.” She rose to her feet and took up her belt and scabbard.

“What?” His eyes darted to her. “You can’t leave!”

“Men, ever the authority.” She tutted, though her tone softened when she saw the panic in his eyes. “My father will be worried. I will return to you on the morrow, on my honour.”

“You ran away from home in the midst of a battle!” Davos struggled to sit forward. “If you go now your father will lock you up for good.”

“You know nothing of my father.”

“I know my father.” A pleading look creased his features. “He coddles my sisters like baby lambs. That might not be the case for you, but listen to me now. If my daughter disappeared like that- might have been dead for all I know- I’d never let her out of my sight again.”

“You have a daughter?”

“Well, no.” He flushed.

“Not even a base-born child with dirt beneath her nails?” Her wry smile faded as she saw the longing in his eyes, her hand wresting on the pommel of her short-sword.

“Not one.” He lowered his face as he shook his head. “But that’s not the point. You know I’m speaking true, if you leave now you might never come back.”

“I must.” She pulled her grey cloak about her shoulders and fastened it. To Davos, she looked like an outlaw queen.

“You snatched me from the battlefield,” He went on, eyes hardening in anger like a cornered dog. “You stole my valour, you sullied my name as a Blackwood, and what now? You’d leave me to starve? I have dishonoured myself time and again this day and I’ve yet to have my fill of it. I beg you now, Bracken, don’t leave me here.”

“You are thankless.” She muttered, slinging her quiver across her torso. “I found you wounded and unarmed, and I spared you where my kin would have cut your throat. You went with me willingly, and you call me turncloak? And still you make demands of me! More, more, more! What more should I give a man like you? I have already given too much.”

“And I’ve taken too much! This never should have happened, but it has, and now it must be righted. Kill me now, or stay and nurse me, but don’t abandon what you started.”

She stalked around the table until she stood before him on the bed.

“You started this as much as I.” She said darkly. “I will stay with you until you can walk unaided. From then, you will find you own way back to Raventree Hall and speak of this to no-one. The tale you tell in its place is up to you.”

Dawn had not yet broken when Cersha woke from her restless slumber. A week of sleep atop a folded spare blanket under the table had stiffened her bones and she ached for her feather bed at Stone Hedge. Night after night, Davos asked her into his bed and night after night she refused, tempting as the offer was. ‘Let’s stop playing games,’ he would shuffle close to the wall and open his arms, voice low and gravelly with exhaustion, but she would steadfastly stick to her place on the floor. Even behind the defences of the table legs, her dreams always were fraught with choking smoke and splashes of boiling blood, and often she woke sweating and screaming for her father, her stomach roiling with guilt for hiding from him. She never left the hidden clearing but under the cover of night, and often she and Davos would sit in the grass outside the cottage and listen to the search parties call for her as they passed by.

The weather had been mercifully still, and while the mist had cleared, there was enough smoke still in the air that they could keep a fire overnight, and this morning it had burned down to a low smoulder. When she stirred the embers she saw the curve of Davos’ sleeping frame in the spark-light. The last of the poppy tea had gifted him a deep and unbroken slumber, and he did not twitch or whimper under the burden of dreams. She could not ignore the pang of guilt in her stomach as she turned from him and slipped into the night.

The smoke from the burning mill still hung in the air and stretched the first half-light of dawn into a pink haze when she returned, grey eyes clouded by ghosts. The Blackwood sat up in bed, dark eyed, hunched and bristling like a squalling raven.

“You’re up early.” She remarked hollowly, setting her bow by the door and throwing a sack of morels and watercress down on the table.

“You left me.”

“I’m back now, am I not?” She avoided his eyes, stripping off her quiver.

“You said you wouldn’t leave without telling me.” He spoke through gritted teeth. “For all I knew you were gone for good!”

“I brought us a rabbit.” She unhooked the carcass from her belt and held it up by the ears. The paws knocked together as she shook it. “Be grateful.”

Davos scoffed but said nothing more, instead taking to glowering in silence.

“You will have to walk without me today.”

“Why?” He saw noticed then that she gripped the table’s edge with such force that her knuckles turned white. He spoke her name softly, urgently. “Cersha. What happened?”

“The Blackwoods have taken Stone Hedge. I saw my family in chains, our Sept ablaze… I saw Queen Rhaenyra’s banners hanging from our windows. I saw men hanged in Blackwood colours, their feet bound…”

“Deserters,” Davos spoke, horror ringing through his voice. “From the border stones. I cannot go back.”

“The lives we had are over. Was it worth the price?” Cersha turned, and when he saw her glassy eyes were mirrors of his own, he would have asked her the same question.

“Why were you at the battlefield that day?” His voice had lost the heat of accusation. “Why is this our fate?”

“I came for Aeron.” She admitted, sitting for the first time at the edge of the bed. “The news reached us early that he had been slain in a skirmish over the border, but fool that I am, I thought… I hoped I would find him there, wounded but alive, and well enough to follow me to safety. Of course, when I saw the carnage…” For a moment she returned to the slicing reek of blood, to the roar of scores of screaming men, the clashing, bashing metal on metal, to the men wallowing and moaning in the welter of mud and gore. “I knew it was hopeless. I thought I would die that day. I nearly turned and ran, but I saw you trying to stand and I thought, in a place such as this, where the Stranger walks amongst us and mud smears across the heraldry… a life is a life. If I saved you, perhaps in some way I would be saving him.” Her voice broke and a hand flew up to cover her face. “How could I know it was your sword that cut him down?”

An apology turned to ash in his mouth, and Davos swallowed it drily, feeling it take seed in his stomach. He reached for her, brushing his fingertips across the back of her hand. Could she blame it on the desperation for comfort, or genuine forgiveness, neither could say, but she released her fist and let him lace their fingers together.

“I must ride to Riverrun and appeal to Oscar. He will not stand for this wanton violence.”

“Your old flame?” He smiled thinly, and to his relief she managed a chuckle.

“He is my friend, but not fit to be my husband.” She turned to him and squeezed his hand. “Will you come with me?”

“I can’t. I cut down the first man, I fled the battlefield, wherever I go, I’ll be hanged. I’m fucked, Cersha.”

“Oscar is merciful, as is his grandfather. He could send you to the Watch.”

“I don’t want to join the fucking Watch! Come on, Cersha, if Oscar Tully is as just as you say, he will avenge your family. He will put this to rights.” There was a question in his eyes, an unmistakable eagerness.

“What do you ask of me?”

“Ride north with me. We could seek asylum with your kin on Bear Isle. There is a war brewing and this is the first of many battles. I would not have you caught up in this, you are far too precious to me-”

“Davos.”

“Please. I have nothing left to lose but you.”

“Don’t speak like that.” She whispered, aching inside and out. “I must help my family.”

A shuddering sigh left his lips and defeat filled his eyes.

“Then I will ride with you, my lady.”

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the-1st-astronaut · 6 months ago

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GREETINGS EARTHLINGS!!

I am the humble alien, Astro and welcome aboard my spaceship!!

Fourteen 🛸 He/They/It/Xe/Star/Chao/Cog ☄️ Genderfaun + AroAce 🚀 Autistic 🛰️

My Interests!!

General

Space, aliens and galactic-related shenanigans as a whole!!

Art, more specifically traditional drawing!!

Analog horror!! My favorites are Local58 and Gemini Home Entertainment :D

Cosplaying!! I've done Montgomery Gator, Michael Afton, The Puppet, Katsuki Bakugo, Lyla (Across the Spiderverse), Turbo (Wreck-It Ralph), Cuphead, and Ratchet (Transformers: Prime)!!

Gaming!! Specifically Splatoon, Tomodachi Life, Animal Crossing, and various Roblox games!

Scene culture!! I'm a scene kid myself (or I try to be with my limited budget) and I adore the style >_<

Music

I like genres like breakcore, speedcore, scenecore, fandom music, rock, and artists like Lemon Demon, The Living Tombstone, Off The Hook (yes, the Splatoon 2 lesbians), Hatsune Miku and Caravan Palace! (I like other music, I swear, you just have to ask)

My favorite songs at the moment are Bop It by Creep-P and Absolute Territory by Ken Ashcorp!

Fandoms

FNaF

X-Men

Local 58

Splatoon

Undertale

Spider-Man

Gravity Falls

Transformers

My Little Pony

Wreck-It Ralph

The Walten Files

My Hero Academia

Sonic The Hedgehog

Gemini Home Entertainment

Current hyperfixation(s):

Transformers

🎮 Dweeb Facts 🎮

I'm a furry and a proud selfshipper lmao!!!

I kin like seventeen billion characters but some of them include:

Katie Mitchell (Mitchells vs The Machines)

Pinkie Pie (My Little Pony)

Goo Goo Ga Ga (Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends)

GIR (Invader Zim)

Present Mic (My Hero Academia)

Surge the Tenrec (Sonic The Hedgehog)

B-127 (Transformers One)

D-16 (Transformers One)

Check out my Artfight below!!

Relations!!

My brother's blog!! Go check him out!!

---🚫 DO NOT INTERACT IF 🚫---

You are ableist, homophobic or transphobic

You support loli/shotacon or proship

You make fun of beginner/young artists

You support cringe culture (cringe culture is DEAD)

You are mean as a "joke"

You are a bad person in general

If you interact with me and you are any of these, you will be blocked

Thanks for reading this insane rambling to introduce myself!!! You should totally be my mutual today!!! ^⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠^

[If you know me IRL No You Don't]

#Ask tag->#alienanswers #Friend tag ->#friendship!! ⭐#Reblog tag->#alienreblogs #Text post tag ->#alienyammering #My art tag ->#aliendoodles #My askING tag ->#alienasks

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theultimatefan · 2 years ago

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Amell, Bernthal, Cox, Van Dien Added To FAN EXPO Philadelphia Lineup, June 2-4

Things just got a lot more interesting for fans of a few blockbuster franchises as FAN EXPO Philadelphia today announced a new slate of key additions to its already outstanding lineup of guests. “Arrow” star Stephen Amell, “Punisher” standout Jon Bernthal, “Daredevil” headliner Charlie Cox and “Stranger Things” breakout Grace Van Dien will now be attending the event, June 2-4 at the Pennsylvania Convention Center.

Advanced Tickets for FAN EXPO Philadelphia are on sale through May 18 at www.fanexpophiladelphia.com, with discounts on individual day, 3-day and Ultimate Fan Packages available for adults, youths and families. VIP packages are also available now, with dozens of special benefits including priority entry, limited edition collectibles, exclusive items and much more.

Amell teams with fellow “Arrow” cast member Emily Bett Rickards; Cox joins “Daredevil” co-star Vincent D’Onofrio; and Van Dien pairs with Joseph Quinn as a “Stranger Things” tandem at the show.

They complement the other previously announced FAN EXPO Philadelphia guests, led by icon Michael J Fox, his Back to the Future costars Christopher Lloyd and Tom Wilson; Henry Winkler (“Happy Days,” “Barry”); Christina Ricci (“The Addams Family,” “Wednesday”); Sam Raimi (The Evil Dead, Spider-Man); Sean Astin (The Lord of the Rings, Rudy); Peter Weller (Robocop, Adventures of Buckaroo Banzai Across the 8th Dimension); Katee Sackhoff (“The Mandalorian,” “Battlestar Galactica); and Bonnie Wright (Harry Potter). Additional celebrities, voice actors, creators, cosplayers exhibitors and programming for this major comics, sci-fi, horror, literary, anime and gaming convention will be announced closer to the event.

Known to millions as the crime-fighting vigilante in the title role of “Oliver Queen/Green Arrow” in the eponymous hit CW series, as well as “The Flash,” “Supergirl,” “Batwoman,” “DC’s Legends of Tomorrow” and other iterations, Stephen Amell has also appeared as a series regular in numerous shows, prominently "Hung," "Private Practice" and "Heartland." He also had recurring roles in "New Girl" opposite Zooey Deschanel and "Private Practice" as the love interest to Amy Brenneman.

Jon Bernthal played the lead “Frank Castle” in the Netflix Marvel series “Daredevil” after a popular run as “Shane Walsh” in the AMC hit drama “The Walking Dead.” The classically trained Bernthal most recently starred in last year’s “American Gigolo” on Showtime and has appeared in such large-scale productions as World Trade Center, The Pacific and Rampart, and has had guest roles on top TV series like "CSI: Miami," "Boston Legal," "Without a Trace" and "How I Met Your Mother."

Charlie Cox has had more than 40 screen credits, with his role as “Matt Murdock” on “Daredevil” (reprised in “She-Hulk” and Spider-Man: No Way Home) the most prominent. He gained wide notice for his portrayal of “Owen Sleater” in the HBO period drama “Boardwalk Empire” and played the lead role of “Michael Kinsella” in the AMC+ crime drama series “Kin.”

One of the breakout stars of this past season on “Stranger Things,” Grace Van Dien has earned a fervent following for her role as “Chrissy Cunningham,” the latest among her 30+ credits. She was also a regular on the NBC drama “The Village” and portrayed real-life actress Sharon Tate in the film Charlie Says, based on the Charles Manson murders.

Philadelphia is the eighth event on the 2023 FAN EXPO HQ calendar; the full schedule is available at fanexpohq.com/home/events/.

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cdmagic1408 · 3 years ago

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My Favorite Media!

📺 🎞 🎮

My go-to favorites! Not in any particular order...

Feel free to ask me anything about any of them!

Ultimate Favorites

Media that I've loved for a very long time and will love forever 😍

PIXAR, especially ONWARD, Coco, Toy Story 2, Inside Out (1 & 2), The Incredibles, Luca, and Elemental

Winx Club (I'm pretty flexible with any of the English dubs/adaptations, I've seen them all, plus WoW and FTWS)

Super Mario games, mostly for Yoshi tho bc I LOVE HIM

WatchMojo, MsMojo, most of the -mojos really! Their top 10s keep me in the culture loop!

Kickassreaction - a British youtuber who blind-reacts to cartoons and animated films in full without making any cuts

MLP: FiM (G4) & Equestria Girls (fyi not a brony, and in terms of G5, I've only gotten as far as A New Generation, and not planning to go any further than that...)

Whisper of the Heart - my all-time favorite Studio Ghibli film and the inspiration for my profile picture– Shizuku is totally kin

Green Eggs and Ham (Netflix) - the very best Seuss adaptation imho, to the point where it's better than the original source material, also just love the world of Dr. Seuss as a whole

The MCU, but mostly for Tom Holland's Spider-Man

Tom Holland - my favorite actor, favorite Spider-Man, plus role model and celebrity crush, I've seen a majority of his films

Sofia the First - more than just a disney junior show in my eyes, in fact, I prefer to not really think of it as one, it's sooooooo good

Wallace & Gromit - a classic, that's all I can really say– very much looking forward to Vengeance Most Fowl!

Other Favorites

Media that I love, but not at an all-time major fixation level 🙂

WDAS 🏰 especially Tangled, Zootopia, Beauty and the Beast, 101 Dalmatians, Lady and the Tramp, The Little Mermaid, Peter Pan, Meet the Robinsons, and Hercules

Freddi Fish - a computer game series my older sister and I used to play all the time when we were younger!

The Owl House (the most recent show I've watched!)

Gravity Falls

Kim Possible

Disney's Descendants

Olivia the Pig

Recess

Tangled the Series / Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure

Danny Phantom

Hey Arnold!

SpongeBob

The LEGO Movie 1 & 2

HTTYD (seen all the movies and both tv series)

PBS shows from before the mid-2010s like Arthur, Curious George, Martha Speaks, Clifford, and Angelina Ballerina

Madeline (books and tv series)

iCarly

Lizzie McGuire (mainly for animated Lizzie)

The Powerpuff Girls (the original 90s series)

Over the Garden Wall

Favorite Music, Artists, and Bands

Rock

Pop

Upbeat

70's Music

80's Music

Jazz

New Wave

Indie

Dance

Bubblegum Pop

Twenty One Pilots (I swear, Clancy is my absolute favorite album right now!)

Billy Idol

The Police

Sting

Pet Shop Boys

Taylor Swift

MARINA

Elisa Rosselli (the most prominent of songs/music for the Winx)

Bebe Rexha

Ariana Grande

Electric Light Orchestra

Cyndi Lauper

Sabrina Carpenter

Owl City

Fleetwood Mac

Brandi Carlile

David Bowie

Talking Heads

Selena Gomez

Dua Lipa

America

Miley Cyrus

The Cars

Talking Heads

#cd's favorites #masterpost #animation #movies #cartoons #tv shows #video games #music #cdmagic1408

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internalmess3 · 2 years ago

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🎬📺share ten different favorite characters from ten different pieces of media in no particular order🎮🃏 Then send this to 10 people (anon or not, your choice)

This is so hard holy shit, but let’s see

1.- Percy Jackson: I love him so much your honor, I can read the books again and again because he brings me such comfort

2.- Dean Winchester, Supernatural : I fell fast and hard for him, I love him and miss him

3.- Merlin and Arthur, Merlin BBC: I’ll count them as one idgaf, my first true heartbreak tbh, I get sad juts thinking about that ending, but they’re so wholesome I love them

4.- Patrick Verona, 10 things I hate about you: I mean…. Do I really need to explain

5.- Isak and Evan, Skam: Again I’ll count them as one fuck it, I love them sooo much, discovering that show is one of the best things that ever happened

6.- Daenerys Targaryen, GOT: My queen deserved so much better, fuck D&D

7.- Spencer Reid, criminal minds: my favorite nerd 💓

8.- Klaus/4, the umbrella academy: Gender envy just big ass gender envy, I want to be him so bad

9.- Remus Lupin and Sirius Black, Marauders fandom: again two for one, they have had me in such a chokehold this year, I kin them, I want to be them and I love them

10.- Captain Jack Sparrow, Pirates of the Caribbean: He is such a fucking icon, big gender envy as well

Shoutout to Dr House, Captain Raymond Holt, Kaz, Jasper, Nina and all the crows tbh, Loki,Amy Santiago, Bucky, Robin Buckley, bugs bunny, Eleanor, Tommy Shelby, Uhtred of Bebbanburg, Spider-Man, Lagertha, Klaus form the originals, Stiles,Sana, Arya, Regulus Balck, James potter, Alex Dunphy, Will Graham, Penelope Garcia, and so many more that I relate to them/are such a mood/ want to be them etc but overall have my heart, this game limit my love for fucks sake 🤧🤣

And thanks Ari for sending it 💕

#comfort characters #tag game #favorite characters

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bisexualoftheblade-old · 4 years ago

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how many wips do you have? like what are they all, and not the number of wips in a fandom? what are all the names?

okay. fuck you. fuck you so much. fuck you.

i’m putting this under a read more cut no one else deserves to see this shit. a lot of these are requests, and for those i will just write out the request itself

Shadowhunters:

domestic polycule fluff with tem, jessa, and will because im not a coward

Supernatural

- hehe hoho i request destiel hehehe

- request 61/? cai cai cai cai i need you to rewrite the destiel scene but yk. GOOD. not like i'm in the know about the spn fandom or anything, it's been years for me. but DO IT

Bright Sessions

- caleb/adam grisha AU

- mark bryant vs. united states aka sue the AM

- caleb/adam college fluff

Umbrella Acaademy

- request 31/? i want a ben and klaus drabble please spare me some brotherly bickering

- AND SO BEGINS NIGHT 4 with request 13/? oooh oooh can i get a raymond and allison playlist??? i think their vibes together would SLAP

- hi there night 2 is technically morning 3 but who's counting not me anyway request 5/? can i get a ben moodboard? gotta rep my tua bb

Percy Jackson

- request 9/? can i get a percabeth moodboard or quote edit?? like god they're the og couple goals take me back to high school cai

- For the 100 follower things :D Jercy getting caught in the rain

- request 29/? a drabble about literally anything to do with pjo. i’ll be happy with anyone and anything i’m love these children

- *somersaults in like I’m a real fancy acrobat* hello ello ello may I request some camp half blood chaos possible involving *does a flip* ✨side characters✨ <3

Penumbra Podcast

- request 52/? drabble about the penumbra podcast. this is for ren bc ren likes it and i don't actually know anything about it. juno? i think? that's the one ren likes. write it for ren

- Tpp ghost hunting / buzzfeed unsolved au

- sad juno smut

- final resting place fic go brrrr

Marvel

- request 6/? i'm going to my roots y'all can i get a spider-man playlist? if not a playlist then i'd honestly be happy with literally anything involving spider-man

- request 15/? i'm going crazy this is recorded evidence of me actually losing it ANYWAY can i get a quote edit for something from iron man? literally anything that man says is gold so cai's choice :D he deserved better in endgame i'm still bitter

- request 42/? do another spidey thing that differs from the other spidey thing

- request 73/? you have Opinions. rant about infinity way and/or endgame. go.

- request 74/? quote edit for deadpool!!

- spideytorch relationship character study

- peter parker as a tired grad student monitoring the young avengers (send help)

Six of Crows

- okay listen i wasn't going to request anything bc i worry about you but also? if you want to/have the time hit me with a playlist for our girl nina zenik

- request 43/? fuckin give me the ending anya should have had. she is alive and with her new son and having a great time

- request 45/? inej moodboard?

- request 47/? will you make literally any meme of your choosing for six of crows?

- request 48/? write a drabble for kaz, my favorite bastard

- okay so i don't actually like nina or mattias that much but i still wanna hear about your thoughts (and also see if you'll change my mind)

- kaz brekker turning 18 fic. birthday party, everyone singing, whole shebang. i need it stat

- religious trauma fic aka i started shipping kaz/alina/inej and i can’t stop

- kaz trauma soup (he has D.I.D. and you can’t prove me wrong)

- my two redacted fics for @grishaversebigbang

- wesper fake dating

- six of crows bright sessions crossover: everyone gets therapy

TMA

- uhh... s1 gang having a nice time? melanie getting to have some Pride™️? some "fun" horror thing?

- request 7/? spare steph and jason bonding? please sir? spare some for a humble child such as myself?

- okay so this was meant for night 3 but i had midterm shit SO this is honorary night 3 let's DO THIS request 8/? i want a moodboard of extremely out of context magnus archives shit like i mean confuse the FUCK out of me i don't go here i know Nothing about it

- request 11/? OKAY so i need tim stoker meeting tim drake now i need my timmy to meet your tim plus i want to see character differences no i'm not trying to create a tim stoker in my head so i can read a's fic while NOT thinking of tim drake whaaaaaat you're crazy

- request 18(i think)/? i need a quote edit of every time within the first like. 15 eps of tam where jon is like “sounds fake but go off” thank u bb

- request 40/? i challenge you to write a tma drabble based only on the episodes i've heard. i'm currently halfway through episode 23

- Jon being lovingly bullied into taking a break. I'm aware this has been written a million times but it is one of my favorite things.

- spiral!sasha AU

- extinction martin go brrrrr

- high school era timsasha. they've both been friends for years, and everyone always asks when they will be a couple. they decide to fake date, to prove everyone wrong and show what a bad couple they would be. turns out that's a bit trickier than they thought

- after sasha comes back, tim is broken. he can't let go, scared that if he looks away for even a minute he'll lose her again. sasha suggests shibari as a way for him to give up control

- sasha pov mag 19 au, sacrificing herself to save the others, knows that if she gives herself up to the not!them it will let the others live

- this is the "tim finds a polaroid of sasha" trope

- early archives days,, long nights in research,,, clothes sharing,, somft. late nights and falling asleep at their desks warm and safe in the other's presence

- two parts: timsasha as kids, each picking a constellation that is "theirs". just soft kid antics. tim at sasha's grave glancing up to see their constellations

- continuing your job’s a joke (you’re broke)

DC Comics

- TIMSTEPH HADESTOWN AU,,,

- my redacted fic for @batfam-big-bang

- request for you to get a decent amount of sleep? serious answer, dickkori, SAL's Venus

- request 4/? timsteph morning after 👀 mayhaps?

- a concept: nonbinary stephanie brown

- teehee hi mom, you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, but can i request damian angst for your accomplishments 100 followers?

- hi you can ignore my first request if you want, or you can ignore this one. but bls possibly write some bikini ra’s? -the bikini bitch

- request 27/? jay is asking through me for a jondami playlist but tbh i also want it so win win yk?

- "I don't know how to help you but I can help you find someone who does" with bruce and jason? im just craving bruce being a good day to jason for once

- “I am putting you in time out because you need to understand the consequences of your actions.” with steph and jason as dumbass disaster bi best friends pretty please?

- request 32/? timsteph patrol date!!!

- request 33/? timsteph *gala* date? mayhaps??

- request 37/? tim drake drabble but make it Edgy cai

- request 39/? drabble of a prank war between tim and damian

- joyfire cuddly fluff please? or like just any outlaw fluff if joyfire isnt your thing (feel free to add every member of the outlaws, dont feel like u gotta stick with jason, kori, roy i love them all)

- barbara and robin! jason fluff? bonding over books or something?

- request 62/? i need a drabble about the chaotic trio jason, tim, and steph i'm love them ty

- request 63/? batfam x mcu crossover. batfam meets ironfam. give me ALL the cliches. ALL OF THEM

- request 64/? young justice x young avengers - jay cuz idk SHIT about the young avengers

- request 66/? jondami moodboard pls and ty

- request 67/? timsteph moodboard!!!!!!

- request 69/? HEHEHE kinky 😏 i would v much like a timsteph drabble of the almost first time. does that make sense? like i don't want you to go all the way NSFW cuz i know that's against the rules and i'm a rule follower. but like they *almost* go all the way. this could be fade to black or some shit i don't care just make it a lil steamy and have Fun

- i request damian angst! all of it

- hmm... maybe i request? jondami?

- mayhaps,,,,some batfam,,,,,committing crimes? ily be gay do crime <3 - lu

- How about a ficlet with Steph and Cass?

Found Family Bingo Prompts

- no powers au

- tunnel

- first day

- join the club

- hurt/comfort

- experiment

- playing favorites

- hold on

- possession

- 10 o’clock

- singing

- road

- snitch

- curfew

- timer

- fantasy au

- zombie au

- dreams

- campfire

- are you okay

- movie night

- games

- scared

Miscellaneous

- a request: Write A Drabble, Coward

- is it too late to request a moodboard for me?

- request 20/? i’m going off book because i’m in a Chaotic Mood™️ can you just absolutely vibe check me like go off cai demolish me

- request 21/? i formally request that you pick a favorite cai. i don’t care what that favorite pertains to, just pick a favorite something

- request 23/? roast me

- request 24/? can i have a buzzfeed unsolved spoopy playlist but spoiler alert it’s not spoopy bc shane doesn’t believe does this make sense it has been a Day™️

- request 25/50 i want a jake and amy fic make it Soft cai i’m love them b99 is so good

- request 28/? i know nothing about the lord of the rings so make something that will confuse the shit out of me

- request 34/? malvie and jaylos moodboards 😈

- request 35/? a moodboard for the bbb mods!! perceive all of us!!!

- request 36/? moodboard for the tua mods too???? mayhaps??

- request 41/? doctor WHO? idk but i want a drabble of him and the one character i know from doctor who which is rose

- request 46/? make an alignment meme with our group, have fun!!!

- request 49/? i want you to kin assign me a character from every fandom you can/want to. go feral

- request 50!!!!/? this is a special request. the most special request. can you make a bastards tbh playlist? i want our vibes encapsulated. i want us in music form. i want to hear those songs and be like "that's me and cai" and smile.

- requests 51/? i know jack shit about good omens. explain it to me in the most confusing way possible. make me know less by the end than i know now

- request 53/? can you write a mel aesthetic? i'm Curious

- request 54/? give me a list of book recs cai i want some good book recs pls

- request 56/? edit a picture of US together too

- request 58/? oooh can i have a disney edit? like. hm. i just really love disney and i want anything to do with disney. like a quote or an aesthetic or an aesthetic edit i just want disney.

- request 59/? i would v much like a recipe for carbonara. i've never had it but it sounds fucking delicious

- request 60/? ooh hey can i get a makeup tutorial? i know you like makeup, i'm shit at doing makeup. teach me

- request 65/? i need the most emo playlist you can make that vibes with dear evan hansen thank you

- request 68/? i want a superwholock moodboard. this can be serious, with the actual fandoms in mind, or literally what the era felt like. the insanity. the horror.

- request 70/? ooh ooh ooh do you have a good bread recipe?? i wanna get that bread

- request 71/? i want a playlist with the vibes of summoning a demon. please don't ask questions. i don't have answers. and if i do, no i don't.

- For the requests, how about writing something based on a friend?

- request 75/? MMMM i want literally anything to do with natasha, pierre, and the great comet of 1812

- request 76/? i want some healthy recipes. help a girl out

- a feral bbb quote or two?

- you perceive my plant but now I dare thee to perceive mine own visage

- okay this is a two for one request. 1. you did the bee movie script so now we need a shrek two script edit 2. sleep please

- Pansexual mb for my lil queer soul?

- my (probably) final request is just for you to ramble about something, i don't really care what

- HI ILY CONGRATS AS WELL CAUSE IM LATE BUT CONGRATS. could i request a pirates of the caribbean (or just pirates) or whatever you what to do, free range.

- mood board for the beluga whales who got brought to the animal sanctuary in Iceland please?

- 100 follower request: Moodboard for my stuffed cow Oaky?

#cai's 200 #asks #mininacl

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wingedflight · 4 years ago

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First Lines

tagged by @athoughtfox and @rthstewart

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line. Then tag 10 of your favorite authors!

From most to least recent, and keeping the original formatting:

1. oh blue, if only you knew (Among Us)

It’s night shift on the Skeld but no one is sleeping.

2. Against All the Powers Ranged (Narnia)

“I don’t understand,” Susan said after Edmund first explained his intentions. “What would be the point?”

3. a gift for an old friend (Narnia)

Twas the night before Christmas and up on the roof Sat an elderly woman looking for proof She’d been waiting quite patiently, bow on her knee: A gift for the old friend she needed to see.

4. Strange Happenings At the Deacon Brothers’ Bar (12 Monkeys)

The Deacon Brothers’ Bar isn’t busy when the crazy old lady shows up.

5. to perish in fire and water (Narnia)

In the darkest copse of a near-dead forest, a witch slides a stone knife across her palm.

6. if one could drive forever (Supernatural/Narnia)

For a long time, there was nothing.

7. White Lilies (Narnia)

White lilies and bright sunlight and the sweetest water she’s ever tasted and, beneath it all, an insatiable longing…

8. Tidings From Beaversdam (Narnia)

The missive arrived mid-afternoon by way of courier pigeon all the way from Beaversdam.

9. The Hidden Sword (Narnia)

“We should probably bury it all,” said Eustace, looking down on the little pile of Narnian weaponry that had been temporarily stashed in the bushes behind the gym.

10. Roll For Initiative (Narnia)

The lights are low, the air thick with anticipation.

11. The Lion In The Outback (Narnia)

Come my soldiers, my witches, my kin.

12. Scrapbook (Umbrella Academy)

Article clipped from the Toronto Star, written by reporter Edward Hughs:

FATHER OF MODERN EXPLORATION FACES BRAVE NEW WORLD Reginald Hargreeves becomes Father of Seven in One Fell Swoop

13. by the blood of the stars (Narnia)

There are travellers on the Ettinsmoor.

14. The Great Star Heist (Artemis Fowl)

Excerpt from LEP Human Case File 3012: The Great Star Heist:

No one has ever claimed responsibility for the Great Star Heist. Not officially, at any rate.

15. Cheers, Girlfriend (The Good Place/Killjoys)

D { I SELECT rac.Lucy, void.Janet N FROM RAC.Vessel AS rac G JOIN Void.GoodJanet AS void ! ON (rac.AIEntityID = void.AIEntityID); ! }

16. seeking horizons (Narnia)

First: A flash of swords, a cry of command, legends turned to flesh.

17. Golden Lights and Perfect Games (Narnia)

Well, I'm right pleased to be meeting you, Jill.

18. The Splendour of the Stars (Narnia)

The sun was hot for Archenland, or so the nobles of King Lune’s court repeatedly claimed.

19. Flashstream (Spider-Man)

💥Flash💥 @theonlyflasht

Hey flash fans, tune in at 4pm ET for my next livestream. You’ve heard rumours but today I tell all: I MET #SPIDERMAN’S BUTLER.

20. Regarding the Likelihood of Dodging Certain Death (Artemis Fowl/Umbrella Academy)

Excerpt from Research Notes obtained from the Fowl servers, dated five months prior to the Kidnapping of Captain Short:

There are an astonishing amount of stories, myths, fairy tales, etc. involving the irregular passage of time.

IN CONCLUSION:

Turns out that 9 out of 20 first lines are short excerpts, flashbacks, dreams, or poetry before I dive into the actual real first scene of the piece. This is an insight I now have that I’m not very sure what to do with. Probably write more fics starting in exactly that same kind of way.

Tagging @syrena-of-the-lake @alexseanchai @klaineharmony @thatgirlnevershutsup @bywayofmemory @owl-song @larmalot

#narnia #chronicles of narnia #narnia fic #among us #12 monkeys #supernatural #spn #umbrella academy #tua #the good place #killjoys #spider-man #artemis fowl #my writing #Fic #fanfiction #mine #tag meme

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rexcoatlarchive · 4 years ago

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Summer Quetz ideas

Super long so adding a read more to it

Gonna share some ideas for a potential summer alt for Quetz. Now when you look at most seasonal alts for servants what's something you notice? Usually they kinda hyperfixate on some modern thing. Especially when their base form was already a fan of said modern thing, their alt is usually them hyperfixating even more so. Like normal Archer Tomoe likes games, while Saber Tomoe is a straight up gamer with her VR headset and sword controllers. This has already been done for Quetz with her Santa alt, where Rider Quetz was a lucha fan who likes the fighting style, Ruler Quetz is a straight up Luchadora, with Samba thrown in their too. Now with this summer Quetz I was thinking do that but with her being a superhero type character. Now you may wonder why a superhero, well for one thing Quetz is already relatively similar to one, she has abilities that are comparable to many hero's powers. She has flight, super strength, fire powers, weather powers and so on, and yeah I get a lot of other servants have superhero like abilities but another thing about her that I think would make her fit the superhero thing is her love of Lucha. Now if you don't know Lucha is essentially a way to kind of bring superhero stories to life, that's why the masks and the costumes and the flashy behavior and so on, so Quetz becoming a superhero type character in her summer form is basically her taking the Lucha even further and going full on hero with it. And if you still having trouble seeing the connection, if you take a look at one of the most iconic superheroes, Spider-man, was influenced by Lucha Libre. When you look at his mask, it's almost one for one the same as a tradition lucha mask and even his fighting style matches up with Lucha Libre in a lot of ways.

Now another thing, if we're doing a superhero Quetz alt it makes sense to have her be a paragon type specifically. If you wonder that means, paragons are characters that do good for goodness sake and inspire others to follow in their footsteps and are often enough leaders of a superhero team too. The biggest examples of this being heroes like Captain America and Superman. Kind of an obvious choice given how Quetz is literally a goddess of all things good, so much so that good aligned characters can't do as much damage to her as those of other alignments.

Now when it comes to story reasons as to why, that's a bit of a bigger hurdle. The only thing I can think is basically the real life reasoning (aside from the fact that the idea of Quetz being a superhero is fucking amazing to me) that Lucha Libre is already pretty close so why not go all the way. I do think a summer event story that tells about hero Quetz fighting against someone whose being the super villain (probably Tezcalipoca) while the player and others are caught up in the middle. Now with such an idea, it also makes sense for her to be the 4 star welfare servant for such an event, if it wasn't for the fact that she deserves to be a 5 star summer servant in my eyes. One way I can think for a superhero summer story with Quetz as the main hero but still be a 5 star with proper ascensions is by having the 4 star welfare be her sidekick or something along those lines (kinda like Bradamante in the Quetzmas event but flipped)

With class the main one I can think of for such an alt would be Saber. The main reasons for this being a. I want a Quetz of every class and b. I can't really think of a class that's 100% fits the idea so saber it is. Now we don't really need to 100% justify the classing for the alt considering DW themselves don't seem to care enough to try to justify the classes for many alts. But we can atleast have her use her Macuahuitl in this alt along with lucha moves with some superpowered boosts to them.

Now since I insisted her be a 5 star with proper ascensions, I might aswell think of said ascensions. Now the first one I think should be the one looks the most like a normal bikini. The second one I have more trouble with, I'm thinking like a one piece swimsuit but with a lucha style mask, cape and boots maybe? Or maybe kind of do what they did with Summer Carmilla and go all the way superhero in the second ascension and when we reach third it's another nicer bikini like the first one. I dunno, I have to brainstorm these a bit more.

Now for the actual gameplay and animations. I'm thinking for most attack animations it's still her using Lucha Libre along with the Macuahuitl but maybe add some fire to help emphasize the whole superhero theming, along with stuff like a flying super strength punch and so on too. Also maybe have it look different depending on ascension, like the moves look more hero-esque in the ascension that's more hero focused while the other ascensions it's mostly just flaming lucha. Abilities are a little more difficult, I rarely think of these things. For the first one I'm thinking something a kin to charisma like her default rider and x-mas ruler forms. The second one I think should probably boost defence and grant debut immunity and maybe even cleanse to the whole team, kind of meant to embody the whole inspiring others thing that paragons are known for, but for gameplay. The final ability I think should be like a self buff, maybe boosting buster, self healing, immunity to death, ignore invincible, and maybe even add that special protection against good and even evil aligned servants she had in the Babylon story. For the card selection I think 2 arts, 2 buster, and 1 quick makes the most sense. I think the NP should be a buster single target, maybe it can be that super move she hit Tiamat with in the Babylon story.

That's about all I have, if anyone has some input they want to share about the idea that would be great. And maybe one day I can commission an artist to draw the ascensions when I'm finally fully satisfied.

#fate grand order #quetzalcoatl #summer #hope people like the idea

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goldeneyedgirl · 4 years ago

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Jaliceweek20 Day 1

Against a Wall Part 2

Jaliceweek20 Day 1: Human/Vampire

Words: 6264

Notes: It is DONE. JALICEWEEK IS DONE. I am tired, so I’ll do a wrap up tomorrow. I’m honestly not sure how happy I am with this ending - I’ll write more notes tomorrow once sleep had been acquired but there still might be a third enormous rewrite.

I’m just so excited I finished EVERY SINGLE PROMPT.

Warnings for: suicidal ideation.

—

Nineteen.

There was a shoebox under his bed with a bunch of stuff in it, that he’s collected over his life. Stuff that was special - Sorates’ collar, a rock shaped like a dog, the rubber spider his grandfather bought him from the dime store. And the last thing he put in it was an unopened back of Skittles.

He wonders where that box is now.

—

Things are hard to remember. The doctors say his memory should return, with time, and everything will stop feeling like someone scooped them all out of his brain and threw them up in the air like confetti.

He remembers… Ava. No, not Ava. Yes, Ava, his sister.

She did something.

Ava lit the fuse that had been dangling over the family for six years. Wasn’t Ava’s fault. Never blamed her. He hurt for her.

Louise found the bit of paper and freaked out, yes. It was Ava’s paper. Evidence. And Louise was shrieking. And Jerry heard.

Everybody heard. He remembers making Flo and Hettie stay in the kitchen, hide under the table if you need to (the screen door is banging, Lydia is gone like a puff of air at the first sign of trouble; wish she’d taken Flo and Hettie this time). Hettie had already been sniffling, and he’d left the kitchen.

Bang.

He’d gotten between Ava and their father.

He would have killed them both; that look in his eye. There wasn’t love or affection in that gaze. There wasn’t recognition of his children. There was just rage. That’s a look he wished he could forget; of all the things lost in the confetti, he wants to know why that moment that Jerry looked at him and Ava (Ava was bleeding, can’t remember why) is still there?

Then it’s a blur. Then there’s nothing.

Then he joins the military. He walks away entirely, with only what he can carry and doesn’t leave any parting words because there’s nothing to be said.

No. Something happens before that.

Ava packed her car, yes, packed in Hettie and Flo, suitcases and boxes, and at the last minute Lydia materialises into the passenger seat, whilst their mother tries to … beg? Yell? Ava’s face is black and blue and bandaged, and there was someone he knew who could fix that, with Mary Poppins’ bag…

Then Ava drives off, and their mom is crying, and he walks straight to the nearest recruitment office even though he doesn’t graduate for another three months because once the bomb has gone off, there’s no taking it back.

—

What was the bomb again?

Bomb. Which bomb?

Ava’s, not the one that… not the other one.

Paperwork from Planned Parenthood. There was a baby, but Ava’s already raising her sisters, so she sucked it up, stole $500 from their father’s study, and took care of it. She’d thrown the money back in their father’s face, money she got from her own account, and their father had punched her so hard he broke her nose and her orbital bone, and then it gets blurry again.

His body stings and aches and itches. He recites all the swears he knows in his head, and a few he doesn’t, and he wishes everything would put itself right again.

Bang.

—

The other bomb. That’s why he’s here, in the VA hospital. The one that was strapped to a little boy who ran up to one of the guys in his unit, grinning and clutching a soccer ball to hide the shape obscuring his torso.

Bang.

Bombs don’t sound like ‘bang’ either. They are a vacuum of noise and pain and detritus and fire and he now knows the sound-taste-smell of roasted human fresh. They are wiping out all but two members of a unit and a little boy who didn’t have a choice or an idea of what he was getting into.

The images are burnt onto his brain forever; when he closes his eyes, all he sees is a face roast black and splitting open to reveal the ruby red of the blood and muscle underneath, leaking clear and yellow fluid.

Empty, black eye sockets staring, just sticky blackened holes.

Bodies arched and twisted in pain, looking like blacked trees and burnt bark until you remember where you are and what you’re looking at and some of that burnt bark flesh is your own.

He wishes those memories would disappear.

Less than a year in the army, and already medically discharged. So much for an escape plan. Has to be a record, shortest army career in Whitlock family history. Shorter even than Uncle Wyatt’s, but Wyatt was smart enough to die outright, so it’s just a damn tragedy instead of a humiliation. He knows how the game is played.

Fuckin’ Whitlock curse comes for all of them eventually.

The skin graft hurts like hell, and the medication is still scrambling him, and even when the doctors have pulled out every last stitch, he still looks like some kind of monster pieced together from leftovers. There are still scars, dozens of scars. He asks when they’ll go, but the doctors just brush over his question - plastic surgery is the most solid of answers, but nobody wants to commit to an answer, so he guess he has it. This is how he looks now.

They fill his pockets with pills and send him on his way with their gratitude for his service, as if he has somewhere to be, someone to go to. He’s got nearly ten months of army pay just sitting there - minus a chunk that confuses him until he remembers he’s been sending money to Ava, a neat row of transactions he’s simply labelled ‘miss you’.

Should’ve sent her more.

He stays in Houston, doesn’t bother going home. There’s nothing there for him - his sisters are gone; Ava’s in Austin for college with the girls. Ava, who is somehow juggling three sisters, a college degree, probably a part-time job, and all her own pain.

Maybe he should go to Ava. But the idea of dragging himself all the way to Austin, to sleep on a couch or something, and have his sisters see this ruined version of him makes him want to hide.

The idea of his shaking hands, and the crisscross of scars, and limp being seen by sweet Hettie, dear Flo, sharp Lydia, and tired Ava; knowing they’ll hear his uneven pacing, his wild panic, his endless nightmares makes him stay away - he can’t even pick up the phone. He failed them so many times, and he can’t expect them to put him back together now. Ava’s got nothing left for herself, the others are too young; Lydia’d be graduating this year, she doesn’t need a fuckin’ ghoul of a brother hovering in the background after everything she went through. Better they remember him as he was, as the name on a receipt, that whatever he is now.

His mother is probably still there; working too many hours at the VA hospital and burning toast and being tired. She wrote to him once or twice after he left, and he hated how those letters made him feel. They were all messy apologies and excuses and blame and misery framed in the day-to-day monotony of her life. He felt her hollowness at being left, the mother of five with no children in her home. She should have been helping Lydia pick a prom dress, arranging her graduation party and college tours; driving up to visit Ava at college; sending him inedible cookies; dropping Flo off on her first date, and spoiling baby Hettie even though she’s almost in middle school. But she couldn’t. Because they’d all walked away.

He didn’t write back. He was too angry then, and now he’s … nothing. She feels like a ghost to him, like she died the first day Jerry hit him, and she slowly faded away every Tuesday after that.

And Ava’s the only name on his paperwork, for next of kin and power of attorney shit; and that’s only so she could have his money when he was gone.

His father’s still in Sheldon, he has no doubt of that. He hopes Jerry dies in that empty old house, abandoned by everyone he should have loved better, cared for better and surrounded only by the bottles that he let salt the earth and poison his family.

His uncles are still there, as reliable as the rising and setting of the sun, most likely ready and waiting to jeer at Jasper for his wasted attempt as a soldier, for his patchwork of skin and scars, for his limp and his confetti memory; to fail so fantastically after ten lousy months. No diploma, no future, no plan.

Not even old enough for a fuckin’ drink.

Still a better shot than Bo, though. Sometimes he wants to ask them, though, to look ‘em in the eye and demand to know what they expected from him - the sole Whitlock boy, the heir to a name that meant sweet fuck-all these days - when all they did was punch him when he was down? That letting a kid get beat up, then get insulted and demeaned and mocked and yelled at… that didn’t create a good man, that didn’t create a happy, successful person. They did everything they damn well could to see him gone, failed, erased and that was before he joined the goddamn army. There was no brotherhood in the Whitlock name. Even if he had gotten out unscathed, he would have run til no one knew him, and he wouldn’t have gone home again.

But he didn’t, and here he is having bitter arguments with old men who aren’t even there.

He sits in his motel room, takes his pills with water from the bathroom, and occasionally remembers to find food. He doesn’t sleep well on the hard, musty motel bed; the nightmares come in waves even when his brain is like mush from the medications. A car door slamming, a yell from the street, the smell of cooking meat - it all sends him skittering, panicking, pacing. He can’t stop moving, and his bad knee swells up and finally he gets his hand on some liquor and he ends up slung into the stained bathtub barely able to think. Definitely not able to stand.

He just wants it to stop.

The mostly-empty bottle hits the grimy tiles and smashes, but he thinks of a girl with amber eyes and a magic bag and a watch that she gave him - hurled at him. He remembers sleeping on a cold, bony shoulder in an alley, her voice sweet and warm.

She was so mad with him that last night. He did end up back behind Dewey’s again, on more than one Tuesday, but he didn’t see her again. And it wasn’t long after that when everything went to hell, so he never got to say goodbye. Say sorry for being a dick.

He can’t quite remember what they were arguing about that last night. Whiskey and valium have chased that memory away, and his head slumps over as he sleeps. Or looses consciousness. Either way, he doesn’t have to exist for awhile, and it suits him just fine.

—

Time passes. He finds a cheaper motel, because there’s a corner of his brain that is somehow still functional and practical, and he knows what money he has has to be stretched. Someone from the VA calls his cellphone and he ignores it. He takes his pills - less than usual, because they’re running out.

His knee hurts.

He breaks a lamp and the mirror after a nightmare, and ends up at urgent care getting his knuckles stitched up by some intern who asks him too many questions. Tries to give him pamphlets, and he resists the urge to punch the doctor in the face.

The doctor does write him new prescriptions though. That’s helpful. And he gets something to eat at the cafeteria. It starts out as a bad night and ends up being one of those mornings he almost feels human, as long as he doesn’t look in the mirror.

That’s why he picks up the phone when the VA call again.

That’s how he finds himself sitting outside the VA hospital with a paper bag of the shit he left behind. His mother’s letters, his dog-tags, and an extremely broken watch.

“Happy freakin’ birthday.”

He looks at it closely now, more closely than he did when he was given it - even if it was thrown at his head, it was a gift in his mind. The brown leather strap is stained and nearly torn through, and the brass buckle bent. The face is cracked in an almost perfect spiral. The face is mottled cream, with neat gold Roman numerals; several have come loose and rattle along the bottom, along with the minute hand. It no works, and he hopes that the internal gears are still functional.

The watch will need to be repaired professionally, to be taken apart and pieced back together. A new glass face and band, the numerals and hands put back in the rightful place.

He doesn’t even remember wearing it, that last day. He knew he had it with him the entire time, through basic training and everything, but he didn’t remember wearing it. He’d had some chunky digital thing that told him the weather and GPS and shit that had been responsible for the mutilation of his left wrist.

Carefully it into his jacket, Jasper stands and begins the walk back to the motel.

Nineteen, still.

Sometimes, he thinks about going back to Dewey’s, just to see if she ever turns up again, on a Tuesday. For some reason, when he thinks of her - Miss Alice, in her funny clothes, and her lilting voice - he thinks of her exactly how he remembers her, that she is fixed in time and will never change. That he could return to that alley a week, a year, a decade from now, and she will still be there with her bag of tricks and big golden eyes.

He thinks about her a lot. He never knew where she came from, how old she was, why she spent Tuesday nights in an alley with him. He hopes she’s safe, comfortable, and happy.

He hopes she still thinks of him.

Time marches on, and he can see his twentieth birthday rushing up to greet him. He’s done nothing to change his circumstances - the cheapest hotel room, a fistful of pills on an empty stomach, patchwork sleep haunted by corpses. The PTSD special.

He finds a bar that respects his service more than his age, and they’re happy to let him drink himself numb in the corner as long as he doesn’t make trouble, and slips out the back if the cops come round. But even when they do, and get a good look at the scars, at his jacket, at the look in his eyes, they usually just nod and move along. No one asks questions, just counts out his crumpled money and then slides his drink along the bar.

Life doesn’t feel worth much on those nights.

Stumbling back to the motel, drunk and dull, he never notices the footsteps. He just goes to his room, his home, and passes out on a stained bedcover fulling clothed, waiting for the nightmares to kick in.

—

When the nightmares press in on him, and he’s lying on the bed staring at the discoloured popcorn ceiling, all he really wants is to go home again.

Not to Sheldon.

To the ranch.

Before Hettie, before Tuesdays, before everything. Where they buried Socrates under the tree with the treehouse, where he learned to ride, and would catch rabbits, and everything was easy. He still got told off by his father for being such a disappointment, but back then, they still had the family property, so his father wasn’t so angry.

He’s stone cold sober - aside from the Vicodin and Valium rattling around in his stomach - when he decides to go home again. He even stops in at a grimy diner and shovels in a plate of eggs and some coffee before he buys the bus ticket.

He knows the old place never sold; bank couldn’t shift it. Sold some of the land, but the old farmhouse just sits there, rotting. The Whitlock curse strikes again and again, into the heart of everything.

It’s a long trip; only way out there by bus is to go via San Antonio, and then down towards the old farm on another rural bus that only runs a few times a day. And he didn’t think much about how to get from the last bus stop to the old house proper, but some old guy in a truck takes a good hard look at him - his stained jacket, his limp, the scars twisting around his limbs and under his clothes, and offers to take him wherever he’s going.

He’s stiff and sore and hungry, but he doesn’t worry about any of that. The driver’s polite, amicable, doesn’t ask too many questions but gives him the number of the only cab in town for his return trip. He nods his thanks, and begins limping up the old driveway, towards home.

The house is… sad. Not like his memories, of blood red geraniums in the window boxes, and a pile of sneakers and boots in a jumble by the front door. There aren’t any bikes leaning up against the porch railings, either. Hell, the porch has a hole in it, the wooden rotten through. The yard is an overgrown tangle - probably concealing a few snakes.

The treehouse has long since collapsed, the wooden remains jutting out from the overgrown grass like a shipwreck. Socrates’ little grave is probably still there, under it all, with the brick he and Lydia painted his name on. He was a good cat.

He’s not going to go into the house, and now that he’s here, he’s not sure why he came at all. It’s just a house he once lived in, like Sheldon. But there is something peaceful about being back here, sitting on the - thankfully brick - front steps and staring out at the road. No cars come by, neighbours are too far away to matter. It’s just him.

He lets his thoughts float. More than once, he’s wished he’d been able to keep his service weapon, finish the job the bomb started. He thought about other ways - swallowing all his pills till there’s nothing left in the bottle; buying some razor blades and cutting along his seams; finding a motel with rafters he can loop a belt around. But he doesn’t. He hasn’t. He doesn’t know why - the thought is like a mischievous cat looming over his shoulder. The cat with a too-big smile, from Hettie’s books. Sinister yet convincing and trustworthy. But the thought lingers, and right now, he wishes he’d come prepared because … it’s quiet here. It’s quiet and he associates it with good things, and he’s really, really tired.

His VA shrink said that disassociation was a common symptom of PTSD. There were methods of dealing with it, techniques he could use, but he didn’t bother remembering them. Sometimes it was nice not to feel things, to be entirely seperate from himself for awhile.

When he comes back to himself, the afternoon has turned to night, and he’s an idiot sitting outside an abandoned farmhouse in the middle of nowhere, in a town with one cab. He swears under his breath, and the two braincells that are still desperately trying to keep him alive blaze into action, as he fumbles for his cellphone.

At least it isn’t dead.

He doesn’t even notice the sound as he dials, but as the phone rings he looks up in confusion, as a woman walks up the drive. She’s small enough for his heart to jump in misguided hope, waiting for that smile, those eyes, and that stupid bag that he placed so much faith in.

Her eyes are red, and her hair is long and brown. Her lips stretch too far like that stupid cat, and she takes the phone from him so gently and crushes it into a find powder. And he wishes he’d stayed drunk and high instead of staying sober and coming back to his childhood home like some kind of fucking book character.

She calls him ‘mi amor’ and apologises for what comes next.

He tries to back away, but stumbles on his bad knee, and when she hurls him back up effortlessly, she dislocates his shoulder and probably breaks his arm, and for a moment his vision swims and he yells, and that is only the very beginning of the pain.

—

In his few lucid moments over the next seventy-two hours, he wonders when he gets to stop suffering. When he finds the end of the tunnel of pain, from Tuesdays behind Dewey’s, to being half-burned alive, to be put back together and drugged senseless to function, to whatever this woman has done to him.

It feels kind of like the bomb did, except like it is taking him slowly. If he could open his eyes, he’d expected himself to be blackened and splitting, like the crust of a volcano.

If he could be sick, he would.

He thinks he screams himself hoarse. He might just think about doing it.

Red eyes watch him the entire time, with the ruby-coloured too-big smile, and if he still believed in god or fate or family curses or anything aside from the slow drip of pain in this veins, he would think she was the devil incarnate.

—

Time passes. He doesn’t know how much, since he woke up in the rotting remains of his family’s home with a burn in his throat, and Maria waiting for him. She’s quick to reassure him of his new status as a god, quick to find him something to quench the burn (the boy is young but strong and bulky; probably a high school football player. Healthy and full of blood and cries for his momma when Jasper half-rips his throat out. She is quick to caress his cheek and to kiss him long and deep and to fuck him in the wreckage of the house.

Maria’s clan is small - only nine of them counting him. They are suspicious of him, of the way he stares and stays quiet. But Maria is quick to ease any of his own misgivings - newborns are entirely unpredictable, volatile. He is her new pet, her treasure, her mijo.

He loves what he is, truly. He leaves the pill bottles rattling in his pockets in the dirt of the farmhouse floor, and strides confidently after his new mistress. His leg is strong again, and all the scars have melted away into smooth, hard stone. He came to the farm looking for something, and he found it - himself, the way he was always supposed to be. If life had been kinder.

He’s found himself a soldier in another war, but war is a lot easier when you aren’t weighed down with equipment or fear or stupid fucking rules. When winning a battle means glutting yourself on blood, and losing means instant death, and there’s nothing in-between.

They are so fast now, hunting grounds stretch from Monterrey to Corpus Christie to San Antonio.

He refuses to go to Austin but sometimes its hard to remember why. He nearly kills Lucy when she tries to take the others to Austin, and Maria’s lips purse but she says nothing and they go to Laredo instead. They create a few more newborns, but he notices Maria’s attention to him never wavers; they are like pets, whilst he is her devoted prince.

(Later, he’ll find out it was only six god-damned months he lost. That he turned twenty and Lydia graduated somewhere in an Austin high school, and a bunch of people - mostly social workers and VA employees - were looking for him with the fear of the worst. He’d tell them that whatever ‘worse’ was, they weren’t even close.)

They figure out his gift during one furious early battle that leaves his arms and neck littered with bite marks, and they don’t go away. The venom works too fast, the bites are too deep, and he is once again a mess. A monster. His rage ripples around the camp, and everyone huddles in on themselves, and even Maria cowers a little, cooing and trying to settle him.

He makes them afraid, he makes them tremble, he tries to force them into fixing the unfixable.

Maria is so pleased with his gift, he is never punished for his tantrum. And more bite marks layer upon his skin; when he frets over them, with a sneer on his face, she laughs and promises he’ll have many, many more before they are done.

—

Nineteen, always.

Reconnaissance in the back of Houston is required, and Jasper and Maria take a small group with them. Maria is insistent there are others on their lands, and that is a crime of the highest order. They will destroy the newcomers, feed, and return to Monterrey. They each pick a point of Houston, and agree to meet in the centre.

He is ordered to the northeast, and he goes without resistance; he knows soldiering is following orders, and Maria lets his resistance to Austin go unremarked upon.

Most of his human memories are hazy, like they are so very much older than they really are. The streets he stalks are almost familiar, and he keeps his head low - more because of the blazing red of his eyes than any fear of being recognised.

There’s an aged but enticing aroma that he follows, that smells of nice, soft things; not fresh enough to guarantee a confrontation (or execution), but one that is a regular in this part of town.

It’s late enough there are few people in the street, in this working-class part of town. Even the dive bar has gone dark, and only the drunks and shift workers are left stumbling around. It’s not even hard to snag one of the less aware drunks around the wrist and vanish around into the alley with him.

His blood is nothing memorable, and it’s not hard to make the drunk look like he tripped and slashed his neck on a smashed bottle in the alley. He’s good at staging these scenes; at making things look like terrible, despicable accidents.

“Oh, Jasper.”

The words are soft and murmured, and he can’t decide whether they are sad or relieved or something in between. All he knows is that there is a sweet-smelling threat behind him, and he spins around with a snarl.

She’s only as tall as a child, with uneven black hair curling around her cheeks. She’s one of the prettiest girls he has ever seen, with huge amber-coloured eyes that remind him of porcelain dolls. She’s wearing a sky blue sweater a size too big over jeans with stars on the knees, and staring at him with hope and regret.

In the back of his brain, that little bit that is not quite human and not quite animals looks at her hard and breathes in her roses-and-rainwater scent and simply thinks, “Yes. Good.”

But the louder part recognises her as the trail he has been following, the one that Maria wants destroyed. A growl rumbles from within him, and the girl just looks sad.

“I’m so, so sorry Jasper,” she says, still standing there, not the least be defensive. “Carlisle and Edward forced me to stay away once you left, and then I tried to watch you but I lost track of where you were…” Her eyes are shiny, as if she wants to cry. “Do you remember who I am?”

The question hangs in the air between them, his growl fading away as he stares at her.

She steps closer, and he glares at her. The animal brain is getting louder - “Yes-good-yes-good-yes-good.” Her emotions are threatening, mostly sad, and she’s tiny. Nothing bad could be so dainty and pretty.

She’s right in front of him, standing on her toes as she presses her hand to his face. “I’m Alice,” she says simply, and his mind folds itself over and over again in an instant to provide him with an answer to this riddle, to this girl that is so clearly something good and known to him.

And he remembers.

“Are you okay?”

“It’s a stupid fucking decision you’re about to make.”

“At least I didn’t break it worse.”

“Happy freakin’ birthday.”

"They just looked nice. Happy.”

“I’ve come too far to watch you die in this disgusting place,”

“Alice,” he says hoarsely, and his memories of her are clear, sharp. He can remember that one strand of hair that always fell into her face; her ice cold hands roughly patching him up; the constant, lilting companionship of her voice, even when he slept. She is so clear in his mind he wonders how he forgot her in the first place.

Her smile and emotions bloom with joy all at once, and it warms him all the way through. It’s the kind of happiness that eluded him during his human life, and one he has not felt, waking up with this gift that feels like everyone’s emotions are constantly crawling on him. It’s something he wants to wrap himself in like armour.

“I’m so, so sorry,” her fingers brush a scar on his neck so gently, he wants to shudder.

“What for?” he asks, wanting to know if he can touch her. She’s so pretty and clean and is a good thing, a precious thing.

“I see things. Things that are going to happen,” Alice says, as she inspects his arm with a frown. “And when I saw what was going to happen to you in the army, I got mad that I couldn’t protect you anymore. And when you came home, I didn’t realise she was following you until it was too late and I couldn’t work out where you’d ended up. I would have come sooner if I’d known, I swear.” She turns his arm over to reveal a bite mark on his wrist and impulsively kisses it.

He flinches; the contact magnifies her emotions - and his - and it skitters pleasantly along his body.

“I don’t…” he begins, his voice still gravelly from lack of use. “I don’t blame you.”

“I do,” she replies softly, and then she backs away and that is disappointing enough that he takes a step closer to her. She giggles and smiles at him again, and he will follow her anywhere.

“You have to make a choice now,” she says, and he nods hypnotically.

“You can go back to Maria,” her voice wavers again, and he doesn’t like the coldness that sweeps through her at that statement. “And fight and kill until she’s bored with you. She creates war and destruction and monsters, Jasper, and I don’t want you to go with her. She will destroy you, and I couldn’t bear it if…” She stops, turning her head away and stays silent for a moment.

“Or,” her voice is steady again, “you can come with me.”

She holds out her hand.

“My brothers and sisters are distracting Maria and her friends for now, you and I can get away, and go somewhere safe,” she continues. “Just you and me together. I can…”

He never knows what she was going to say because his choice is made, his hand taking hers without a second thought, and she stares up at him with wide eyes, her mouth a perfect ‘o’.

“Are you sure?” she manages, and he nods. He thinks of pain, human and immortal. He thinks of rage and regret. He thinks of his lowest point as a human, of the permanent bite marks on his arms, and the weight that has only shifted now that he’s immortal, not lifted away.

He thinks of being happy and safe and clean and peaceful. He thinks of a girl sitting next to him in an alley, with her throat burning, but her only worry about his bruises.

The girl who can back for him.

Everything is still muddled, from his human life, but he knows that lot of people took him apart and remade him in both his lives. She’s the only one who tried to heal him.

“Let’s go,” he says, and she laughs sweetly, and then they are running faster than anyone can see as they disappear into the night.

—

‘Home’ is a cabin in the middle of the forest, somewhere towards the north east, he thinks. No people around, just wild animals for him to glut himself on. There is the constant running of the river beside them, covering their scent against nomads. It is quiet here - a good place to figure out the edges of his gift, to learn resistance and control, to try and heal and reconcile all that happened to him in such a short space of time.

Alice tells him Maria was indescribably desperate after his disappearance; their exit covered by a well-time rainstorm that washed all the scents away. She had torn apart Houston in her fury, and now she was in more trouble than she knew.

Meaning that Maria wouldn’t come hunting for him any time soon. And, he supposes, when she does, Alice will know. Alice knows everything.

She knows that he likes to sit on their front steps and just stare out at the forest without being disturbed. That the scent of smoke and fire sends him twitching worse than any vampire she’s ever met. That the scars that mark his arms, neck, and face are simply placeholders for the ones he gained as a human, and his disgust over them lingers from the injuries he suffered in war. That he misses his sisters, and they are one of the reasons he is so resolute in his control training. That, if nothing else, he will say good bye and fake his death to give them closure. Alice promises him that she knows someone who can help them figure all those kinds of details out, but she wants him to see his sisters one last time almost as badly.

He knows that Alice loves him, as truly as anyone has loved before. That feeling never wavers, not through his rages, his depressions, his disassociation. That just watching him read a book on their (broken) couch has joy blooming inside her. He knows that Alice will never pressure him, never ask him for more than he is ready to give - and because of that, he is willing to give her anything she asks.

Some days are harder than others, especially when Alice talks to him about her family - the one she walked away from for him - and he knows that she wants the both of them to return to the Cullens sometime in the future. And he feels obliged to do it, eventually, since her jumble of siblings were a part of his escape plan - the most dangerous part, if it involved aggravating Maria. But she never asks, just talks to him about them.

But mostly, he’s okay. Good, even. Animal blood is disappointing, and sometimes he’s so agitated he can’t sit still and wishes for … a battle, to run, to do something other than sit, and read, and hunt animals, and talk. Alice blames it on his newborn year, and he tries so hard to contain it, but it’s hard.

She tries to make it better, and on days that he can stand to be touched, she teaches him all the old-fashioned dances she knows, and he spins her around and sometimes it does make it better.

He’s got regrets, a laundry list of them, but Alice says that isn’t unusual; it takes very specific circumstances to be changed - especially young - and be satisfied with the final outcome. When he asks her regrets, she shrugs and admits that she doesn’t even remember being human. Leaving him unprotected is her biggest regret, and that makes her sad, which he doesn’t like the feeling of.

So he puts his arm around her, and she curls against him, and that makes the sadness evaporate, and she beams up at him with golden eyes he could drown in, and one thing he will admit is - that despite the pain and unhappiness that followed him from human to immortal - that he will never, even regret taking her hand.

#my fic: against a wall #my writing: against a wall #jaliceweek20 #jasper hale #alice cullen #twilight fic #jalice

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