#Trying to organise things around shifts is a pain

[onlythegeste]

I really do need to book a haircut, because my hair has now reached a length at which it basically won't dry completely overnight in the current humidity levels (it's not full-on wet or anything, but I hate waking up to it being still mildly damp).

However, effort. Ugh.

Tbf I probably can do the booking but online so I don't have to phone people but I am not terribly enthusiastic.

[m-jelly]

Hello! I loveee your works jelly~! I was wondering if you could do a req where Levi and synth Levi take care of the reader on her period? Alsoo if you’re okay w it ofc, maybe some period sex for her cramps? Tysmm!

Hey, Levi and...another Levi? Part 2

Levi x Fem!Reader x Levi

Future AU, romance, fluff, being a couple, period pain, comfort, being spoiled.

It's that time of the month and this month it is kicking your ass. You're in a lot of pain, feeling weak and a bit sick. So, both your husband and synth Levi take care of you.

Part 1

Levi frowned as he gazed at his projected screens, he was organising some small strike teams to explore new planets and he was trying to make sure it was all balanced. It was a lot harder now because, with him and the synth training people all the soldiers were stronger.

"Levi."

He lifted his head to see his synth appeared concerned. "Something wrong?"

He nodded as he visually gulped, which was unusual for him because he didn't need to use that function, so it meant he was concerned and reacted like Levi would. "What's going on?"

"Our wife...she is..."

Levi shot to his feet. "She's what!? What's wrong?"

He shifted on his feet. "Her body has decided it is time. Time to shed its lining and give her pain. How can I hate a part of her body but also love it? I hate that it causes her pain, but I love how good we can make it feel."

Levi relaxed a little. "Her period. Is this a bad one?"

"Yes."

Levi puffed out his chest. "It is time, synth Levi, for me to show you the wife care package."

"Care package? This is amazing."

Levi led the synth to a special cupboard reserved for different things. As soon as he opened it the synth gasped, it was full of different baskets for different occasions linked to you and Levi. There were Levi care packages in there too, but the one used the most was for you.

"There are so many."

Levi grabbed a big basket. "There are. You can make one if you want." He placed the basket on the side. "Let me show you what's in here. I have all her favourite snacks, savoury and sweet. I have meds, a hot water bottle, cuddly toys and a blanket that smells like me."

Synth admired what was in the basket. "This is wonderful." He looked up. "She'll need movies, TV shows and gaming. I'll set that all up."

"I'll get the hot drink going and her hot water bottle."

While the two got into action you were peacefully sleeping in bed. Last night you'd been up due to pain, bleeding a lot and feeling sick. You'd cleaned up, took pain meds and curled up in bed and felt like you could just rot in there.

You hummed and slowly opened your eyes to see both your husband and his synth staring at you with their arms full. "What in the world?"

Levi sat on the bed. "Synth told me you're not well and your cramps are bad."

You sat up and rubbed your belly. "Yeah..."

Synth sat down and wrapped a blanket around you. "We're here to look after you."

"Huh?"

"She's so cute."

Levi leaned over and kissed your neck. "Adorable." He placed the hot water bottle on your pelvis. "This will help." He handed you meds. "Take these."

You downed the meds with some tea and hummed. "Thanks." You let out a long sigh, but then tears filled your eyes. "You're so nice to me. Every time I have my period, and it's a bad one, " you sniffed back your tears. "Mm."

Both men cuddled up to you and hugged you tightly. A smile spread on your lips when they both began showering your face and neck with kisses. It was so clear that Levi and his synth loved you more than anything in this world.

Synth lifted the controller for your gaming system. "I'll put on a movie you love."

You smiled when he turned everything on and put something to watch. "Thank you, both of you."

Levi kissed you. "We've got you lots of snacks of all kinds, okay?"

Synth nodded. "Later we'll get some takeaway, anything you want."

Your eyes sparkled with pure delight. "Thank you."

He reached down to your lower back. "I'll use my synth abilities to help."

You released a long sigh. "Fuck, that feels better, thank you."

Levi cleaned your face a little. "If you need anything, anything at all you tell us."

"Oh, well you two are doing plenty for me."

"We want to do more."

Synth nodded. "We want to make you feel better."

You hummed in thought. "Do you both have work to do?"

"We've done it all."

Levi nodded. "Yes. I'm all done."

You smiled sweetly. "Then I know what I want. I want cuddles from both of you and when I fall asleep I want to sleep on both of you."

"No problem."

Synth Levi nodded. "Happy to provide. I will massage your legs and feet."

You squeaked when he started. "Th-thanks."

Levi sat behind you, hugged you from behind and pushed his hand between your hot water bottle and pelvis. "Did you get up in the night?" He began rubbing.

You hummed. "I did. The pain was a lot and I bled a fair bit. I-I checked, nothing in the bed s-so don't worry."

He kissed your temple. "I wouldn't mind if you did get blood on the bed, okay? This is natural. I'm sorry that this one is extra bad."

"It happens."

Synth Levi smiled. "View this as a positive thing. The extra blood and tissue means when we have a baby they will be very cushioned and comfy."

You giggled. "You're right."

Levi squeezed you. "The perfect home for the little one as they grow."

You smiled brightly. "I know this period means we weren't successful when we tried recently, but we'll keep trying and I know you both enjoy that and so do I." Your body heated up when you remembered the times both men had made love to you. "I look forward to next time."

Levi purred against your ear. "We do too." He glanced over at the synth him. "How about we help you through this, hmm?"

You gulped. "U-um, y-yes but w-when there's less b-blood."

Synth Levi kissed your leg. "We'll wait for when you're ready. We love you."

Levi nipped your ear. "We love you so much."

@ladycheesington @levisbrat25 @nyxiieluna @li-anne @galactict3a

@youre-ackermine @thebobaprincess @2moth-anon2 @cypidity

@nbinairyn @bts-spnlvr12 @darkstarlight82 @emilyyyy-08

@levistealeaf @pelicanpizza @hideandgopeep @notgoodforlife

@demonic-bird @searriously @anti-cupid

[brienneoftarth1989]

Forever Young

Larissa Weems x fem reader

Summary: You tried to save the school from The Hyde but it ended up killing you dying in Larissa’s arms. Larissa was beyond upset due to your relationship and organising the funeral was much harder

Warnings: Violence, blood, Major character deaths, funeral, grief, depression, suicide, overdose

Requests open

———————————

“I’ve got to go out there. I’ve got to defend this school” you told Larissa as you got ready to shift into your werewolf form. “You should be careful out there. I can’t lose you y/n. You are all the family that I have left” Larissa told you clearly scared about everything.

You walked over to Larissa as you brought her into a hug and gave her a kiss on her lips. “I promise. I love you Larissa. I will come back to you” you told her as you gave her one last kiss on the lips before running out the door and heading off to find Hyde

You immediately shifted as soon as you exited the door as you ran deep into the woods to find this huge creature. You had to stop this thing before it got any closer to the school. When you reached a clearing in the woods you stop for a second before smelling the air.

You had its scent. You started to follow after it and it wasn’t long before you realised you were making your way back towards the school. The two of you must have ran past each other at some point and not noticed each other. As soon as you made your way back you realised The Hyde was standing in the courtyard waiting for its next victims.

You couldn’t stand the thought it was just waiting for its prey to fall into its hands so you did the only thing that felt right for you at the time which was to attack. You ran straight over to the creature as you clawed at its back. The beast let out a shriek before spinning around causing you to lose your grip.

You fell onto your back and before you knew what was going on you felt its claws going straight across your chest. Pain was all you felt as you then watched it run off into the distance. It wasn’t killing for food. It was killing for sport.

You looked up to see Larissa standing on her balcony in shock at the scene she just witnessed before she ran down to see if you were alright. You had shifted back into your human form by the time she got to you and it wasn’t a pretty sight.

Blood and deep cuts covered your stomach. You weren’t going to make it and you knew it. Larissa picked you up gently and held you in her arms being careful not to cause you too much pain. Your breathing was getting weaker and you wanted to spend the rest of your life looking at the one true person you loved.

“Hey, ssh, it’s going to be ok. You’re going to be ok. We can fix this baby. Just know I love you so much. I don’t want to lose you” Larissa sobbed as she fought back her tears. You felt one of them hit your cheek as you fought back your own tears.

With the strength you had left you lifted your arm and whipped away her tears. “I love you Larissa. I will always love you even from beyond. I just wish I had more time to tell you the many ways I love you…” you said with all your strength before the world went black.

Larissa just looked down at your lifeless body as she held you in a tight grip. “No. You can’t be gone. We still had the rest of our life together. I shouldn’t have let you go out. Maybe then you would still be here” Larissa cried, holding you tighter and tighter.

Larissa sat there for hours with your cold lifeless body before someone eventually found her. The authorities were called and they eventually came to take your body away as Larissa cried not wanting to be apart from you. The next couple of weeks were going to be the hardest as she had to sort out your funeral.

Larissa didn’t leave her room for that whole period. They had to get cover for her position while she grieved your death and trying to organise everything was stressing her out but eventually a day came when she realised everything was sorted just a week before your actual funeral.

Larissa had chosen a nice dark oak coffin for your cremation as well as many wreaths that contained white and black roses which were always your favourite. The songs she had also chosen for the funeral was It’s time to go and Safe & Sound which was a fitting choice considering your love for Taylor Swift and to send you off to your funeral you would be travelling via carriage which would be driven by two white horses.

The wake was the last thing that Larissa had organised. It is to be held at Nevermore where everyone would come to gather to celebrate your life. Larissa decided that no one is to be sad during the wake. It is a time to celebrate your life and Larissa knew deep down that you would have wanted it this way.

With everything sorted now the only thing Larissa wanted to do was sleep and stay in her room until the day of your funeral and that was what Larissa did. She only left her room to eat and go to the bathroom. She was lost with you and she didn’t know how much longer she could go on without you.

When the day of your funeral did come around Larissa finally pulled herself out of bed trying to put on a brave face for the day. She jumped into the shower as she got herself ready for the day. After bathing for the first time in weeks she styled her hair and put on a light amount of makeup.

She then made her way over to the wardrobe to get the outfit that she would be wearing to the funeral. It was a beautiful long black dress and a black coat with a white rose stitched into the pocket. She got herself dressed before looking at herself in the mirror. The urge to cry was already taking over.

Larissa grabbed her large black glasses so people couldn’t see that she had been crying before placing them over her eyes. She took a deep breath and started her day. Larissa spent the day in and out of what was going on. One minute she was at home. The next minute she was at the funeral, the she was at the wake and now she is back in bed crying.

The day had gone amazingly and you had the most beautiful send off but Larissa was hurt and she didn’t want you to be gone but she had to stay strong. That night she once again cried herself to sleep forever thinking of the moment where you died in her arms.

Months went by and Larissa wasn’t getting any better. She had tried to start getting through everyday life but there was something missing and that something was you. When your ashes came back Larissa decided to have something made.

Using one of your favourite hoodies she had a custom bear made with your ashes being put inside the bear as well as in the eyes when they were made for the bear. She then sprayed the bear in your favourite perfume which you always wore which meant that it always smelt like you.

Larissa was currently laid in bed with tears covering her face as she held the bear tight to her chest. The empty bottle of pills laid next to her. “I will be with you soon my love” she whispered as she felt the effects of the overdose taking effect. Larissa awoke to see you standing there at the end of the bed. “Just close your eyes, you’ll be alright, no one can hurt you now” you told her as Larissa walked to you and took your hand.

You both looked back at her lifeless body on the bed as you both stepped into the light waiting to spend eternity together.

[thefabulous-mostgroovy]

If I Make it Through Tonight (Everybody's Gonna Hear Me Out)

Martin saw his first monster at the age of ten.

He saw his second monster at the age of twenty-eight, and that monster was his boss.

Jon/Martin, 4.6k words, rated T, read on AO3. This is for day 5 of @jonmartinweek for the prompt Cryptids. pls ignore that i completely forgot to repost this to tumblr lmao

Martin saw his first monster at the age of ten.

He was in Brownies at that age, amongst a group of girls who could tell he wasn't quite like them. The scout leader had been talking about a camping trip for over a year at that point, and finally managed to organise it at a local site. A few girls complained about the dirt and didn't like the smell of the campfire and the portaloo, but Martin stuck with a small group of girls who he found huddled around a flipped over rock, looking at bugs.

He doesn't remember most of the night, in all honesty. They did the usual stuff you were supposed to do when you go camping: stories, songs, s'mores. Nothing too exciting. Then they all went to bed in their lackluster tents and sleeping bags.

When Martin woke up, he didn't know what time it was. Just that it was dark and the campfire had been put out. The girls in his tent were all still asleep. Sitting up and pulling his jumper on, he carefully pulled the zipper on the entrance down and poked his head out. He couldn't see much but the vague silhouette of the other tents and trees.

The woods at night were quiet. Martin closed his eyes and listened to chirping insects and rustling bushes. He's always liked the sound of nature. He lived near a woodland with a park sitting on the edge and he would lie in the basket swing and watch the spaces through the trees. Sometimes he would see deer or rabbits or foxes, or once, even a badger. He didn't have a sketchbook, but he would take some printer paper and a clipboard and draw the animals and plants he saw. Not very well, mind you, but he would sometimes convince his mum to let him keep his favourites stuck to the fridge.

Martin was snapped out of his thoughts by a loud rustle in the foliage, and a hush fell over the woods. A true silence was left ringing in his ears and he turtled into the neck of his jumper. He vaguely remembers, from a walk through that woodland with his father, being told that silence is the most dangerous sound in nature; it means everything that could be eaten has run away, leaving only the thing looking for something to eat. He fumbled for his glasses behind him, not taking his eyes off the treeline, and shoved them onto his nose. It didn't help much, but it wasn't as blurry anymore.

Amongst the black, he saw something shifting, heard the sniffs of a large nose. Heavy, yet careful footsteps made their way through the bushes, and into the campsite. Now out of the trees, Martin could see it clearer.

The creature was enormous, hunched unnaturally on four legs and covered in thin, dark hair. The skin underneath was pale and covered in painful-looking stretch marks. The paws didn't seem like paws at all. They looked more like hands, with elongated fingers and harsh, ragged nails. It was almost person-shaped. Almost. The hunchback made it look like a man trying to walk on all fours, on his hands and feet, but it moved so fluidly, like it was used to it.

Until it stood up.

The thing rose onto its two hind legs, pushing at the portaloo with its knobbly hands, towering over the thing by easily two and a half feet. The small stall rocked back and forth, clattering as its balance was tested. It chuffed as it tried the handle with clumsy fingers, then moved on to investigate a tent.

Looking back on it, Martin knows it was a terrible idea, but his mind had filled with the awful image of this creature—this monster—getting into the tent and ripping the girls inside to shreds, and he simply acted in instinct. He blindly fished the wind up torch he brought with him out of his sleeping bag, and turned it on. The crank made an awful, loud clicking noise and the light wasn't very bright, but the monster still squinted at it.

Big reflective eyes stared at Martin, the lumbering body frozen in a startled turn. Its hair stood on end, teeth bared in its snout and stained with something dark, and it stared. It stared and stared and didn't move a muscle. Martin stared back, suddenly cold with fear. It raised a long, slender finger, the tip thick like a paw pad, the nail curled and yellow, and it held the finger to its lips. Like it was telling—no, warning—Martin to be quiet.

The light faded out. Martin didn't rewind it. He listened to the creature disappear back into the woods. He did not go back to sleep that night.

The first monster Martin saw, he discovered many years later, was a werewolf. And it sparked what can only be described as an obsession.

From that point forward, Martin found everything he could on monsters, ghouls, and cryptids. He found books in the library about Mothman and the Loch Ness Monster and Krampus, and checked them out, much to the dismay of the librarian. He copied the anatomical sketches into the jotters he took from the supply bin in school and proudly showed his teachers, who replied with a concerned grimace.

(To be fair, he doesn't blame them. He was this specky little eleven year old holding up drawings that might as well have been props from The Shining. He once heard a teaching assistant mutter 'Redruuum' behind the teacher he was proudly showing a picture of Bigfoot to, and she was quickly sent off with a glare.)

The interest only got worse as he grew up. He set up trail cams in his local woodland, he went on ill-advised camping trips to unregulated areas, he had a truly awful vampire phase in high school and is rather glad he's not still friends with anyone who would remember it. He started carrying around a camera everywhere he went, just in case, deciding that his top goal should be to finally get a picture of one of the damn things. But one thing truly takes the cake for the lengths he's willing to go to get that shot:

After dropping out of high school and needing to support himself and his mum, he made up a lie about having a master's degree in parapsychology and applied to the Magnus Institute.

Working at the Magnus Institute had been a total dream for Martin for a few years at that point. The idea of being completely surrounded with resources, with proof of the supernatural was all he could ever ask for! Of course, he applied to other jobs as well, but he had all his hopes pinned on the institute. When he got the interview, he was practically vibrating with nerves the entire time. The whole thing was a bit weird, Elias is definitely a bit of a freak who learned what a smile is from a WikiHow guide, but he did get the job!

And ended up in the bloody library.

Sure, having very easy access to every book you could possibly want on supernatural creatures is great, but zero access to the research department is not great. It also doesn't help that there are actually very few books on cryptids, and most of his coworkers thought they were a load of rubbish.

All in all, Martin does what he can before simply returning to independent research (i.e. Reddit threads. Grim). That is, until he got moved to the archives.

It's all he could have ever asked for: two hundred years worth of statements and research packed away into a maze of shelves where no one can see him rummaging around and taking notes on the book he hides in his desk drawer. A boss who doesn't seem to mind, if downright encourages, employees staying late, even if he is a bit of a dickhead about it (a very handsome dickhead, but that's a matter for Martin to think about elsewhere). And two coworkers who are truly entertained by Martin's Origin Story and hand him files to read on werewolves in America, and vampire killers. He swears he was only a little disappointed to find out that vampires are not as sexy as they are, according to Anne Rice.

This is all to say, Martin is finally going on another proper Cryptid Hunt.

Now, Martin has never set foot in a proper research facility, but he thinks he's onto something. Statement after statement has been cropping up about a monster roaming London in the night, that speaks in static and has dozens of eyes. It's like nothing Martin has ever heard before. He's determined to find it. He's got his digital camera, he has a torch and plenty of backup batteries, he has a Polaroid camera, just in case cryptids don't capture well on digital—which he assumes they won't, if the statements won't even record without the tape recorder.

Speaking of tapes, he'll need to find some blank tapes to record anything important on. Not that he thinks a Polaroid wouldn't be enough proof, he just- he likes the Lo-fi charm, alright? It's—as much as Jon detests the word—spooky.

It's not his first rodeo borrowing (stealing) the odd item for one of his hunts, but this time he's more nervous. Jon has made it very clear that Martin is on thin ice, especially after letting a dog into the archives and it causing a mess on the floor. So, he tries his best to be very careful when he picks the lock to Jon's door and stuffs a couple tapes into his satchel. It's all going surprisingly swimmingly until he runs into Jon on the way out after getting his coat.

"Martin?" Jon calls as he spots him. "Did you see anyone going into my office?"

"Mm, no," Martin says, like a liar. He's always been good at lying. That's not great for his character, but it is great for him getting away with everything.

"Right, I must have forgotten to lock the door, then," he mumbles. Jon has his coat on and his bag over his shoulder, which is odd considering Martin doesn't think he's ever seen Jon leave on time. He shows up early and he leaves late; as far as Martin knows, he could bloody live down here.

"Are you heading out already?" Martin risks asking. It's not that he wants Jon to work himself to death, but could he maybe start his self improvement journey when Martin isn't trying to walk out with stolen Institute property?

"Yes, I have, uh—" Jon waves a hand as he thinks, "—plans. I have plans. Shall we head out together?"

The suggestion throws him off, as do many things Jon does. He has these odd moments of treating Martin no different from Tim and Sasha, then the next minute going back to calling him useless. Martin tries to cherish the few and far between acts of kindness Jon dishes out, but he tends to ruin it with his face going bright red and starting to stutter and fumble with what he wants to say. Then Jon will usually side-eye him and tut and the moment will be over and Martin has failed to woo his hot boss once again and—

"Martin?" Jon interrupts, head tilted and brow furrowed.

"Oh! Oh, uh, yeah, sure, let's- let's go!" Martin lets out a nervous chuckle and Jon sends him an odd side-eye, and tuts, and sets off towards the lift. Martin curses under his breath and follows.

It's a little awkward in the lift, tense in a way that Martin is sure Jon doesn't feel. He clears his throat quietly.

"So, what plans do you have?" he asks, hoping Jon didn't actually intend on walking side by side in silence to the front door.

"Hm?" Jon raises a brow at him, like he's said something truly outrageous, then his eyes widen a little. "Oh- nothing much, just- visiting a friend from my uni days. Anything planned for yourself?"

"Not much." Martin shrugs. "Hoping to have a nice night in, you know?" Jon hums and nods a little as the lift sings and opens to the ground floor. The chit chat is idle and dull as they make their way through the dwindling crowds filtering out of the Institute, and they share curt goodbyes as they part ways.

_____

Martin triple checks his bag for maybe the millionth time: he has a camera, digital and analog, his phone, water, a few snacks, a torch, a loaded tape recorder and an extra cassette, and some basic first aid items. He has everything. It's time to set off.

The grass is dry and crunches beneath his feet as he makes his way into the woods. He tries to walk confidently, as if confidence is all he needs to warn off a thing that one statement said could most accurately be described as a fucking dragon. This is an impeccably stupid idea to begin with, so who cares if puffing his chest out makes him feel a little safer.

He ditches the path and wanders off into the trees, knowing how bad of an idea that is, and doing it anyway.

The light from the torch sends stark shadows streaking along the ground and up the trees, startling animals off in the distance, but no dragon. Martin knows it's not close because he can still hear the vague chitters of squirrels and insects. He walks slowly, carefully, because it's not going to be any help if he scares them off himself. He swallows as his nerves start to get to him. Maybe talking will take his mind off of it. He starts the tape recorder with a clunky click.

"Okay, erm... documentation of Martin Blackwood going Cryptid Hunting, because he's a bloody moron, tape one. I've found the area that a lot of these statements mentioned, it's a pretty popular walking trail, so hopefully this will come up with something."

A breeze sends a shiver down his spine as he checks all around him, pointing the thin beam of light through the spindly trees. His footsteps are light as he can manage, barely rustling the grass and fallen leaves. He doesn't see anything except a grey forest, illuminated by shitty LEDs, and he hasn't seen anything for the last twenty minutes.

"I'm starting to think this is a lost cause. I mean, it's getting late, and it's bloody freezing, I might just turn back." And he clicks the recorder off. The quiet in the absence of the whirring tape makes him feel even worse.

He tries to follow back the way he came. He winds through familiar enough looking trees and broken branches and rocks and logs. Then he walks past the same bunch of trees twice, and sees a log that he swears he saw ten minutes ago, and a small stream that he thinks he's already stepped over. In what feels like no time, it's been an hour and he hasn't found the trail. He quickly and quietly curses under his breath, panic starting to settle in at the fact that he's lost in a woods with frequent monster sightings.

"See, kids, this is why you follow the walking path," he mutters into the recorder. "Don't do what I do, for Christ's sake." He turns it back off, to preserve space on the tape, but it clicks back on by itself. With a shaky breath, he turns it back off. It turns on again. "Shit, don't tell me the recorder's broken..."

He holds the thing up to his face, trying to inspect the buttons for damage, but he doesn't know how tape recorders work so it's not revealing much.

A branch snaps somewhere behind him. Not a thing branch, or a twig, but a heavy, crunching snap, that sends the forest into silence. Nothing fills the air except Martin's quickened breathing and the whir of the tape. And possibly a short shriek from him, but that's unimportant.

Martin shines the light in every direction, hand shaking as he frantically searches the darkness for a presence. The tape recorder clicks itself off, then starts to play. His own voice comes out garbled and backwards through the tinny speakers of the recorder. It crackles and starts to fade into static. The thing shakes in his hands and he thinks maybe he should put the thing down, when something comes out of it, through the cacophony of static.

"Martin..."

The man in question freezes for only a second before he fumbles to pull his Polaroid camera out of his bag, not bothering with the digital. With the shrieking tape record tucked under his arm, he stands with his camera poised, listening out for movement. He hears a rustle on his left and whips around, taking a picture in that direction.

In the brief second that the flash lights up the trees, he sees it: an enormous, black creature with sickly green eyes covering every inch of its face, twisted horns reaching up into the branches and taloned feet reaching over the bushes. A mane of fur covers its back and neck, tapering down its chest. A tail audibly swishes behind it. And it was looking right at him.

The camera spits out a picture and Martin barely even notices. He takes off in a run.

The creature doesn't make any noise as it follows, doesn't roar or growl or anything, but Martin can hear it crashing against trees and clawing at the wood and ground. He can tell that it's bounding towards him. The recorder is practically screaming and it hurts his ears. He looks over his shoulder, and suddenly understands why three separate people called it a dragon. The thing has six legs and it's leaping from tree to tree like an awful overgrown squirrel.

In his terror, watching it grow closer and closer, Martin trips over a branch and goes flying to the ground. He rolls onto his back, scrambling to kick himself away as the creature closes in. He doesn't get very far as it slams a giant hand down on his chest and stomach. Martin screams bloody murder, kicking his legs in the hopes of hitting anything within reach, pushing at the leg and pulling at its fur.

Martin has always wanted to see another monster, but this is just a little too close for comfort. The thing stares at him with its too many eyes, and they each start to glow, starting from the centre at radiating outwards, the pupils thinning into tiny slits.

Martin feels pinned (in a more metaphorical sense than how he is very literally being pinned to the ground). He feels like he's getting an x-ray, like this monster has peeled him open and is stripping him bare. He's completely frozen under its oppressive gaze. He doesn't know how he's so sure, but he is filled with the inescapable dread that it now knows every last detail of his entire life.

He doesn't realise he hasn't been breathing until the feeling stops, and he gasps in deep, gulping breaths, tears falling down his temples. The static from the tape recorder—which had been abandoned to his left when he fell and had still been screeching—starts to quiet down, evening out into a steady white noise. The monster blinks all its eyes in unison, and the pupils have each grown rounder, filling out most of the eyes.

"Martin," the recorder says again. That voice- Martin knows that voice, where does he know that voice? "Martin...?"

"H-... hello?" he whimpers. He wonders if this is recording. "Are you... is that you? Speaking?"

"The tape," the monster says, glancing to the recorder. It—he?—sounds almost more confused than Martin. "It hears me."

The voice is deep and a little bewildered. Martin can't help but think it's the kind of voice you could find reading an audiobook. There's a curious aspect to it, a need to know more that is impossibly familiar. How the hell does he know his name?

He squints, no longer convinced that he's about to be gored or eaten. He swears he knows that voice, that posh, over exaggerated accent, the way it says Mahhhtin- wait, holy shit—

"Jon?!"

The monster- creature- thing– Jon looks back at Martin, shocked for a moment, then he hurriedly sits back. The six legs fold up surprisingly easily into a cat-like position.

"Martin, what the hell are you doing out here?" says the voice coming from the recorder. Says Jon. Says Martin's boss. He's having a bit of a time, okay?

"What am I doing? What are you doing?" Martin spits as he scrambles to sit up. "You mean to tell me you're a- a what? A dragon? A monster? A giant ferret that can only speak through a tape recorder? You don't even have a mouth!"

Jon stares, very unimpressed.

"What I mean is, it's very dangerous to be out here this late, especially off-trail." Jon chuffs as the recorder speaks. There's an odd purring rumbling from his chest. "I'm taking you back to your car. Come on."

"Oh, like you know the way," Martin grumbles, but still grabs the tape recorder and straightens out his bag, standing to follow.

"Like this, I know everything, Martin," Jon says, voice low and gravelly in a way that makes Martin's face go hot and red. Jon shuffles around and nudges him between his shoulders with his snout. "Now, let's get a move on."

Martin trudges alongside the giant dragon-Jon, who stoops his head down to seem closer to Martin's height, head tilted at an angle to lay his horns flat against his shoulders, instead of catching them on the branches. Part of him wants to try and make conversation. Part of him wants to forget this ever happened. A massive part of him wants to pet Jon's mane—it looks very soft and fluffy, and this close, he can see tufts of very dark green and dull grey amongst the black and he just really wants to sink a hand into it and—

"Yes, Martin, you can pet the mane," Jon sighs, rolling his eyes. Martin flushes from head to toe.

"How did you- what!" Martin squawks, and Jon laughs a little.

"You were thinking it very loudly at me," Jon explains. Martin stops in his tracks.

"Wh– you can read minds?"

"That's one way of putting it, I suppose."

"Well, don't read my mind, please."

"I can't exactly help it much." Jon rolls his eyes again and moves his neck within Martin's reach. "Go on, I suppose. If you still want to."

There's an odd look in Jon's eyes, looking almost expectantly at him. Hesitantly, Martin raises a hand, checking his face for signs that he was joking, and it doesn't seem so. Jon isn't the type to joke about that anyway, so he carefully reaches over and strokes the fur. It is soft. He carefully pets the fur down with the back of his hand, then sinks his hand a little further into the fluffy mass. At the firmer touch, Jon swings his neck to press into Martin's hand, so hard that he stumbles back.

The purring starts up again as Jon parks himself on the ground and leans heavily into Martin's arms. Martin laughs as he pets Jon's—again, his boss—chest and the back of his neck, wrapping arms around his as far as he can reach. The fur tickles his nose, and Jon rubs against him, all his eyes closing as the purr vibrates under his hands. His backmost leg starts kicking at the ground and a contended sigh comes from the recorder. Martin then laughs so loud in shock that he ruins the moment and Jon shakes him off.

He clears his throat. "Sorry, erm... let's continue."

Martin follows him through the woods with a smug little smile on his face. A question scratches at the back of his mind, but he isn't sure how to ask it without making things awkward. He figures, Jon will just, apparently, read his mind and find out anyway, so he might as well ask himself.

"So are you, like... fully in there?" he asks.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, you're- you're conscious in this- form, I guess." Martin thinks for a moment. "Side question, is this like a werewolf thing?"

"Well, first, I suppose you could call it a werewolf thing, it happens every few weeks. And to answer your initial question, kind of?"

"So then why did you chase me down like you were going to kill and eat me?"

"I- I do apologise for scaring you," Jon starts, guiltily bowing his head. "Though, I will admit, it was my intention. I didn't recognise you. Or- I did, but it didn't register? Usually, like this, my brain is a lot more... simple. Straightforward, I suppose is a better way of putting it. Like my sentience takes the back seat to make room for something more- primal. Being able to speak through the tape recorder seems to put me back at the forefront."

Martin doesn't know what kind of answer he was expecting, but it wasn't that.

"So you've got some kind of... animal brain when you're—" Martin tries to find a delicate way to put it, and fails, "—this thing?" Okay, that was possibly the worst way he could have described it. He's totally blowing it with his hot monster boss.

"Sure," Jon huffs.

"That explains why you went all cat-ish when I pet you," he chuckles, and Jon pushes him with his head.

All in all, it's a rather pleasant walk back to his car, with the lumbering Jon next to him and his six legs thumping on the ground with each step. He's almost a little disappointed that it's over when he dumps his bag in the back seat and turns back to Jon with a quiet sigh. He has to tilt his head back all the way to look at his face. Sat back on his haunches, middle and front legs politely tucked in at his chest and stomach, combined with the long, slender horns, makes him easily ten feet tall.

(A far cry from his five-foot-five boss.)

"So," Martin says.

"So," the tape recorder says. Jon blinks his many eyes. "I'll see at work on Monday."

"Yup."

"Right. On you go, then." He swoops down and nudges Martin towards the car with his snout, then turns and heads back into the forest. Martin watches for a moment, then opens the door and collapses into the driver's seat. Jon looks back at him through the bushes. Even with the door closed, the recorder crackles out one last message: "Oh, and Martin?"

"Yeah?" He knows Jon Knows he's answered.

"Don't tell anyone about this."

And Jon disappears into the dark.

_____

By the time Martin gets home, he realises that his picture is still in the woods, and it takes all his will power not to drive back and hope Jon is still roaming around and will help him find it. But, then again, Jon probably won't want loose evidence of him being a were-dragon-ferret-whatever.

In a slightly foul mood, Martin goes to sleep.

_____

On Monday, Martin makes very awkward eye contact with Jon as he delivers his tea.

He tries to make small talk in the break room and fails miserably.

He gets no work done for the entire day. But, at five o'clock, after he's returned from washing the mugs, he finds a Polaroid of Jon on his desk, and a note.

The sticky note reads: 'Sorry for knocking you over. Still don't tell anyone.'

Martin keeps the Polaroid folded in his wallet. He doesn't tell a soul.

[its-my-whump]

The microwave vs. handiman

Tw: blunt trauma, blood, unconsiousness, unknown fate

Sure, he said yes to help his buddy remodeling his living room. He didn't know, it was going to be this bad and that his friend literally had two left hands, of which he couldn't use even one properly.

He brought most of the needed tools himself, but he forgot his hammer. A damn hammer, he wanted to use, to just headlessly pount it against something to deal with his frustration, that had been building up the whole day.

"In the basement, right shelf." His friend had said. Why the fuck, wouldn't he go, when he knew the place anyway. Which in itself was a miracle, of how organised this house was, not.

It looked like a bomb had gone off, in every room, on every board, in every cupboard, in every corner. He went himself, trying to avoid becoming a murderer today.

"Really." He mumbled into the basement, as he spotted the handle, of what only could be a hammer under an old microwave on the upper shelf in this hell hole.

He could grap it, but wasn't able to lift the microwave from this angle.

So he pulled by an old wooden box and used it as a step. The shelfboard was moving, not really fixated. A highly unstead contraction.

He lifted the microwave just enough, to pull the handle out. It still got stuck. He pulled more. A crack and the wooden box underneath his feet gave way. Sharp edges connected with his leg, even though covered by his pants.

Whatever was stuck gave way, when he stumbled back and fell on his ass. His left foot still trapped inside the broken box and a confused look to the thing in his hand, confirmed, that the head of the hammer just came off and was probably still stuck under the microwave.

A sound of shifting things let him look up. The board had moved to the side a bit, everything on it was slowly travelling to the side, too. The microwave tilting.

"Oh crap." He heard himself growl, raising his arms protectively above his head and turning as much of his body to the side, laying down on the floor. There was no time to do anything else. The heavy square object left the board with everything else. Things scattered around him with earpiercing noise.

The hit to his right shoulder was brutal, pressing all air out of his lungs and bringing a loud peep to his ears, while muffing everything else. Something definitely broke inside, when his fragile body was rammed into the hard floor by the big box crushing it.

The pain was unbearable, breathing wasn't possible and his vision was blurry from one moment to the next. He felt like being hit by a truck, his face pressed against the ground, he tasted blood. The world was silent, so silent, only his heartbeat was hammering in his ears and head. He felt sick and tired, yet flushed with adrenaline, that couldn't go anywhere. He saw his own hand just laying there, thrembling, then everything turned dark.

"Have you found it and decided to remodel down here, t... FUCK!"

His friend was standing at the head of the stairs. "Johnny?" His question hesitant, when he made it down the stairs.

"Johnny? Talk to me!" He was kneeling by his friend's head, taking in the crushed, unmoving body. "Oh god. Johnny come on, open your eyes." His hands touched his friends cheeks, but his face was pale and expressionless.

He took in the sight of the microwave laying on top of his upper body. There was definitely blood on his clothes.

The friend was fishing for his phone. "FUCK!" No reception in the basement. He was moving on his feet, without moving an inch. Take that thing of him or run up and call for help? "Fuck." This thing could prevent him from breathing. Already back on his knees, he held his hand under Johnnys nose. He was breathing, kinda. He was still alive. So he wouldn't move him.

The grip around his phone tightened and he ran up the stairs, already dialing 911.

xxx

Johnny felt like being stuck under a bolder. Time had no meaning, nothing did actually. Everything was so heavy and painful. Darkness surrounded him. Everything was so straining. It felt like he wasn't really there, but reality was still much too present and painful. Something kinda blew in his face. Was he standing at a cliff, feeling the breeze or maybe he had fallen down, laying bruised and broken on the next edge. He couldn't remember going for a hike. Actually, he couldn't remember.... yeah, no. He went over to his friends house some morning to help him? Did he help him, did he ever arrive there? Maybe a car accident. It felt like, he was trapped somewhere.

His eyes wouldn't cooperate and open. Nothing in his body would do, as he wanted it to. He wanted to take a deep breath, there was nothing, except pain. So much pain, he felt like slipping.

More weight on him, on his arms. His chest felt like being crushed. He couldn't breathe. The pain in his right side, his chest, his shoulder and back was eating him alive. He couldn't swallow or move or anything. In panic his eyes flew open against an inhuman heaviness. He was afraid. Of what? Why? Where was he? Something was drumming in his ears, loud and fast. He couldn't breathe. The panic got worse, even though it flushed his broken body with adrenaline, the pain got worse too.

White dots danced in his sight. Something pressed on his face and his body convulsed. Something came up his throat, warm, heavy, metallic. It felt wrong, everything felt wrong. He just wanted to breathe. But it didn't work. His body trembling, as hands on his arms held him down. Someone pulled the red thing from his face. But he still couldn't breathe. Words, but he didn't understand. There was only static noise in his ears and this drumming, even more frantic now.

His vision was like a chaotic night sky on new years eve. Everything turned white. It felt like, if he let go now, he'd be gone forever, but he couldn't hold on.

His body went limp and the heartmonitor was displaying his last frantic heartbeats before it went into a high pitched noise echoing from the walls of the or.

(My masterlist)

[oddyssey77]

The Festival Part 2 - Nico

POV Nico Di Angelo

I had been looking forward to the festival for weeks. And no, not because Will Solace is going to be there. Ok maybe a little. I have been pining over Will for weeks and no matter how hard I try I can't seem to get over him. Somehow though, every step toward the camp that I took, I became less and less sure that I was doing the right thing by coming to this.

I am now questioning whether I should've come at all. I hang at the back of the crowd as I normally do in situations like this. Children of Hades were never truly welcome amongst other half bloods and I have gotten well used to it. The dirty scowls, the nervous glances, the trying and failing to ignore him, it all builds up. And it always hurts. I wasn't even sure I'd be welcomed back at camp after the what happened last year.

It took over 45 minutes for Camp Jupiter and the huntresses to get themselves organised and for the rest of us to get in line. I spent most of my time leaning against a tree picking at my nails, but I also talked to Grover for a bit.

"You know, you couldn't look any broodier over there," Grover notes to me jokingly

"Yep," I say, "I am meticulously planning my operation to bring Kronos back to power and bring on the fall of Olympus all while staring deeply into a nailfile."

Grover laughs, which helps me loosen up a bit.

"So how are things going with Juniper?" I ask him. He shifts uncomfortably

"Gods man, I haven't seen you in forever." he says completely skipping over the question as if he hadn't heard me. I decide not to push it and help him change the subject.

"Well while you go around restoring the land of life, I reside in the land of the dead helping to assure people get fair judgement of their lives. So it's not like our to jobs cross paths all that much."

Grover laughed again, but had a pained look in his eyes.

"You haven't seen, umm..." He mumbles shyly. He looks like he is about to cry.

"Who?" I ask him, "I haven't seen who?"

"Never mind, its nothing" He states. I was about to press him on the matter a bit more but Grover isn't looking at me anymore. He is staring out into the field trying to make out a large figure with one eye.

"Is that..?" he begins "Tyson!" Grover leaps forward to greet Tyson while I hang back 

"Goat Boy!!!" Tyson yells as they run towards each other and meet in the middle for a hug like something out of a movie. They confer for a few minutes until Tyson looks over Grover's shoulder and notices me.

"Ahhhh!!!" he yells, still looking at me "ITS SCARY EMO DEATH BOY!!!" Tyson runs away from me while Grover chases after him.

"Alone again." I mutter to myself grumpily.

"Not for long..." a voice whispers in my ear. I look around but can't see anyone. "I've been looking forward to our reunion, Ghost King." I know he is talking to me even though no one ever really addresses me as Ghost King. "See you soon." I knew I recognised the voice from somewhere in my past but I just couldn't remember what it was. I wait for the voice to speak again but it doesn't.

~30 Minutes Later~

As the march up the hill begins I very much consider leaving and pretending that I had never been here. It would be easier that way. I didn't want to have to go up to Chiron on this day of joy and tell him about a spooky ghost speaking in my ear and telling me something's coming. Something bad. On the other hand though, this doesn't concern the rest of the camp and bringing my trouble here is only going to mess things up for everyone like it did last time. I finally make a decision and turn to leave when someone taps me on the shoulder. I pounce back from the jump scare. Human contact can catch me off guard sometimes seeing as I spend most of my time with floating, transparent souls.

"Hey, Nico," I finally pay attention to the person who was trying not to giggle at the fact that I jumped 5ft from being tapped on the shoulder. It was Percy, Percy Jackson.

"Are you coming in or are you just going to stand there?" I was going to tell Percy the truth about how unwelcome I felt but I didn't really want to share my feelings with someone who I only see a few times a year. Although, a few times a year is a lot more of me than people see of me nowadays. I also realise that now I have been greeted by Percy there was no way I could get away with disappearing.

Percy is walking me through the camp when I see my cabin. Cabin 13. I hadn't even thought about having to stay in my cabin. I knew that I wasn't going to be able to face being in there again since the incident. I try to find an excuse to turn around and go somewhere else but nothing comes to mind. Every step closer to the cabin, my lungs get tighter. Percy starts to notice.

"Are you alright?" Percy asks clearly worried for me. I can tell he's being nice to me mainly because we were both besties of Jason

"I don't think this was a good idea," I tell him, turning away from the cabin.

"Listen to me Nico. Everyone has forgiven you for what happened. Even Travis."

"And Connor?" I ask him already knowing the answer.

"Just go into the cabin Nico, I promise you will love it."

Hesitantly, I make my way to the front door. Everything looked the same as before I wasn't sure what Percy meant when he told me I would love it but so far I was definitely not loving it. I reach my trembling hand for the door knob when Percy stops me.

"Wrong door Nico," he says to me as he turns the corner around to the side of the cabin. I walk around the side and realise that the whole thing has gotten an extension. There was now a new room attached to it, one that wasn't quite as black as the rest of the building and had instead took on a more dark grey color. Painted on a plank of wood were two words NICO'S ROOM.

I couldn't believe it. They cared the other campers cared about making things better for me after what happened. When I walk into the room I notice that I am smiling for the first time in months. I look around see a classic teenager's bedroom that still retains my whole darkness theme.

There is a desk with a load of notebooks and sketchbooks ready for usage. There is a framed photograph of me and friends on the bedside table. Oh, and the bed, the bed is a incredible. It was soft and comfy, with black silk covers. It has a dark wooden frame with a large bedhead with an odd array of buttons. I decide not to ask about them and instead think about how much comfier this bed is than the one on the other side of the Hades cabin which was made of hallowed obsidian from the underworld. 

"It's beautiful," I tell Percy, still in shock.

"You have to do one more thing," Percy says, "Close your eyes and lie down on the bed." I do as I am told, trusting Percy to safely direct me to my bed without bumping into anything on the way. I lay down, face up and Percy tells me to open my eyes. I am staring directly at a mural on the ceiling and I am shocked. A tear streaks down my cheek. 

I was looking at a navy ceiling with a ton of painted white stars and in the center, painted skillfully was my sister, Bianca. She isn't dressed in her hunter's outfit or a camp half blood tee, instead she is simply wearing casual, human clothes. Her hair is tied in a singular braid that was hanging down the front of her left shoulder. She was leaning in with a kind smile and an outreached hand as if to help someone up after falling down. 

I hadn't realised just how much I was crying. I didn't like how vulnerable it made me feel but I couldn't seem to stop myself.

"Who painted this?" I croaked

"I did," but it wasn't Percy who had responded to me. I turned around and saw Will Solace smiling at me. I put my feelings aside and hugged him.

"Thank you," I sob, "That's the first time anyone has recognized Bianca as anything other than a huntress or a daughter of Hades. That's the real her, that is my sister."

~4 Hours Later~

It is 5 o' clock and I am on my way to see if I can help prepare the Dining Pavilion for dinner. On my way, I decide to visit Cabin Eleven to talk with Travis Stoll. I slowly make my way to the cabin door trying to find the right words to say to him. I knock on the door, even though it wasn't much of a knock, more like a nervous tap. The door is opened by a tall figure with slick, black hair. It was Connor Stoll.

"You," He grumbles malevolently, looking like he wants to punch me. I couldn't really blame him though could I, "What do you want."

"I want to talk with Travis." The other Hermes campers notice me standing on their porch and start whispering frantically with each other.

"Why, so you can break his arms too!" he is furious now and I begin to think this wasn't so great an idea and step back to leave

"Connor, who's at the door?" a voice speaks from the back of the room and I know its Travis. But before anyone could say anything else the door slams shut in my face and I think I hear Connor telling Travis that it was nobody.

~1 Hour Later~

When everyone arrived at the dining pavilion for dinner, I was taken aback by the sheer amount of people standing there waiting for Chiron to speak. Mr. D commanded the group to....

"SHUT THE F$*k UP!!!" Everyone fell silent. "Thank you all for coming to this event and stuff. To the parents, can I just say that your kids are a joy, and it has been a pleasure to teach and train them everything I know over the last years. So if anyone would be kind enough to write a recommendation letter to Zeus about how my punishment deserves to be expedited a few decades please see to the pen and paper I have placed on that table."

"Alright, that's enough Mr D," Chiron managed to interrupt him before Mr D got the chance to convince people to get him some wine. Chiron continued with a much longer and more boring speech so I decide to step away for a few minutes. I see three people over by the Athena cabin. It is Annabeth and a short, middle-aged man with glasses who I assume is her father. They seem to be in a three-way argument with a Korean woman who looked like she could be Annabeth's step-mom. It ends with Annabeth storming into the woods and Dr. Chase trying to go after her but the woman holds him back. They turn toward the big house and make to leave the camp. I spot Percy look in Annabeth's direction trying to figure out what happened.

"Now let's eat!" I hear Chiron shout. Behind him is a large array of tables all in one line. No one was separated by Cabin like things usually are. Instead Anyone sits down anywhere. I am invited by Will, Leo and Percy to sit with them and shyly make my way over there. The tables were adorned with all kinds of meat, vegetables, sauces, stuffings and soups. I pick a small piece of chicken onto my plate alongside some carrots and peas. 

"That's all your getting?" Will asks me curiously.

"For now, I'll grab some more later," I tell him through my teeth. Will nods his head but didn't really look like he was paying attention to me anymore. He is staring into the distance as if he's dreaming. It takes a few seconds but he eventually snaps out of it with a look of shock on his face

"We have to go, They're coming," he says looking more terrified than I'd ever seen anyone in my life.

"Who?" Leo asks urgently.

"My father sent me a vision. It was an army of stone warriors, marching up the hill," he is shaking now "they are on there way and... they just killed Annabeth's parents"

This Chapter is dedicated to Ella

[eurofox]

Control review

This game was great and it helped that I had played Alan Wake recently, although you don’t really have too, it just helps to know what's going on for one of the DLC chapters and a few Easter eggs here and there.

I skipped over this game for awhile because tbh it doesn’t look that interesting, and the first hour or so is very slow and confusing, I nearly put it down but I’m so glad I didn’t. A lot of concepts, weird characters and acronyms are thrown at you in this first section and it got a bit overwhelming. Once you get your telekinesis ability it really picks up, the combat becomes a lot more fun and the story starts to make more sense. It didn’t go in the direction I was expecting it too and that was a pleasant surprise. The first boss battle is actually a real pain but after that I never had any trouble (you can encounter it again but it’s optional).

The whole game takes place in some weird brutalist government building that can shift shape and is being invaded by an entity. It is a government branch that investigates strange phenomena that covers it up from the public, while it itself being a strange organisation with unusual leaders and practices, I didn’t thinking running around an office block could be so interesting but it is. The characters are all a bit quirky, one guy is very Twin Peaks and there’s a lot of stuff hinted at, but never fully revealed, the DLC especially asks a lot of questions, but answers little, setting up for a sequel. A lot of the story can be found lying around in files, recordings and videos so if you don’t like that kind of thing it’s probably not for you. I liked it because you can find something later on that you’ve already read about and I was hunting down every last file I could find. Re-reading/watching stuff later is useful because things will make sense in hindsight. Jesse herself is very likeable, I warmed to her a lot quicker than I did with Alan Wake and she can be pretty funny at times too. Always nice to have a new female lead character.

These notes also give hints about new abilities and most of this stuff is optional. You can miss whole segments of the game if you don’t bother exploring and it will make combat a lot harder for you. You can even miss whole story arcs and characters if you don’t have a good look round. Hell, I thought I was exploring thoroughly and then the game gave a hint that I might have missed something and found a  whole extra sideplot 

You have your main story mission but you can go and do sidequests as well. These are totally optional. Some are more interesting than others, some are just collecting junk or timed missions, but others can reveal new information about the bureau and what goes on in it. It’s a good idea to do these for upgrades anyway.

This game has the best combat of any game I’ve played in years. First you get a gun, it has unlimited ammo but you have to wait for it to reload. It can be morphed into a shotgun, sniper rifle, grenade launcher, etc. Honestly, once I got the power to launch shit about, the gun was secondary. You can grab and launch pretty much anything at the enemies and it’s so satisfying to smack an enemy in the face with a fax machine or a forklift. It get’s even better once you can levitate and and start raining death from above. You need to get good at balancing your gun and launch ability as both need to recharge. Health is only gained by attacking enemies so you really need to be on the offensive throughout,. I tried ducking and hiding at first but Jesse is just too fragile to survive long and enemies are very aggressive. Also, aside from crouching, taking cover isn’t handled well in this game unfortunately. But you can get a dodge ability (you can actually miss this if you aren’t looking around and I can only imagine what a nightmare that would be without it). Keep moving and always be on the attack is my advice. Enemies will flush you out in no time if you try and play it safe.  You can improve combat by leveling up your weapons and abilities. I got a really useful upgrade that restored health with every successful launch smack and that was a lifesaver for boss battles/hordes. You can also increase your health although I found even at max health a strong enemy could still take me out in two hits if I wasn’t careful. For huge battles you sometimes get an ally and they were more useful as a distraction than anything else. I felt the upgrade system was poorly explained however, despite how crucial it is. The game isn’t exactly stingy with them, they can be found killing enemies or through exploration. You can also make your own.  Some of the savepoints can be a bit strange. I had a few moments of panic where I seemed to have been sent back somewhere I’d been 45 mins before after dying but everything I’d done before the death was still done, I just had to run back. Bit confusing.

There’s also some platforming and puzzles. These are all good, nothing felt unfair.

It all looks fine, some character models are a bit stiff but nothing was outright bad. Even though the game is set in America, with mainly American characters, something felt European about it, I can’t put my finger on why though. (I didn’t realise the developers were Finnish at first either) The building is nice and detailed and everything is destructible. A room where you had a fight LOOKS like a room where you just had a fight. IDK if it’s my dying PS4 or what but some of the busier battles had some serious framerate drops. I also had one instance where the game froze and I had to restart.

I can’t remember any of the soundtrack. Like it suits the game and it’s fine while playing, just nothing really stood out. Just atmospheric tracks mostly. One track that plays in the maintenance sector did my head in though. It sounds like someone knocking on a pipe and that really got irritating. Voice acting is alright, everyone suits their character.

I really regret not picking this game up sooner, it’s so good. Usually I find a game has either great gameplay and a meh story or vice versa but this game was great in both areas. I’ve not played anything like it so it was a unique experience too. The Alan Wake tie in DLC was scarier than anything in Alan Wake itself tbh, that monster was creepy as fuck. The only negatives are the incredibly slow start, poor cover system, poor explanation of how upgrades work and the rather abrupt ending to a very interesting story. I guess it’s all being set up for a sequel but it still, it  came so suddenly I was a bit taken aback tbh. Also without the DLC it’s quite short. I just really wanted more and there is a fair bit to do postgame thankfully. Shame there’s no new game+ option though.

Looking forward to the sequel, I want to learn more about the weird world and characters they created here.

[districtx-hq]

: / / ACCESSING FILE . . . KALI PARK ›››

» OCCUPATION: n.e.p.a. enhanced agent, part-time mechanic, & underground fighter » ALSO KNOWN AS: kali » LAST KNOWN LOCATION: south side, urbane residence apartments #202

: / / READ MORE . . .

currently a nepa agent but she doesn't agree with the organisation and their doings

she's trained in hand-to-hand combat and weaponry at the pinnacle institute

her parents were former nepa employees who betrayed the organisation and were killed for it

she was captured and experimented

she works as a part-time mechanic while dabbling in illegal activities like street racing and underground fighting

desperate for intel from nepa

she has lived all around the world because of her parents running away

carries lots of emotional baggage

learning how to make friends

: / / ABILITY(IES) . . .

PRIMARY: PROBABILITY MANIPULATION

her primary ability is the power to manipulate the likelihood of events, outcomes, and situations. it allows her to shift favors in her outcome. by influencing the probability of things, she can increase the chances of succcess or failure. though, this ability should not be confused with reality warping. she is not able to alter reality directly. while she can influence probability, she cannot guarantee spcific outcomes. it can be streneous to maipulate probabilities, especially on a larger scale or for extended periods, making it mentally taxing. the more she alters the odds, the greater the energy it takes. her manipulation of probability works best when she’s involved directly in the situation. she has to be aware of the variables and be near the event she’s influencing. if she’s distracted or removed from the equation, her ability to manipulate probability weakens. overuse can lead to exhaustion or losing focus.

SECONDARY:

PROBABILITY PERCEPTION a subpower of probability manipulation, it allows her to perceive the likelihood of outcomes before they happen, giving her a tactical advantage in combat and decision-making. it enhances her awareness of the events around her and the potential consequences of actions. this is activated when she concentrates and thinks of the outcome and variables, meditating on it. this works best short-term within seconds or minutes ahead, it doesn’t allow her to foresee events far into the future like clairvoyance, meaning her predictions are bound to the immediate context. if she were constantly trying to perceive probabilities, especially during fast-paced or high-stress situations, it can tire her. also, thinking about limited possibilies can lead to hesitaiton, confusion, or decision paralysis.

ENHANCED CONDITION after being experimented by nepa, her strength is greater than the average human, allowing her to lift and move heavier objects with ease. she also has enhanced mobility like speed, agility, and reflexes; making her fluid and precise in the battle. her enhanced condition gives her stamina, allowing her to fight longer. however, she is not invincible and she’s not immune to injury or fatigue. prolonged fights, extreme physical strain, and sustained injuries can tire her or wear her down, and she still needs rest and time to recover from overexertion. her strength is above average but it isn’t like superhuman levels of strength but demolish giant buildings, carry heavy monuments, lift multiple cars, etc.  she can endure long battles and physical strain but her endurance may cause her to ignore the pain of her injuries, these minor injuries can become life-threatening if not treated in time. she has higher endurance but doesn't have an accelerated healing process. if she pushes herself too hard, she can risk long-term damage like muscle tears, exhaustion, or even collapsing. it's important she gets recovery after long fights, sustaining damage which could limit her ability to heal or recover between battles. her fast agility consumers energy quickly, high-movement speeds can drain stamina faster.

[springofstarlight]

Faerûnian 29 days Writing Challenge

[SFW] 🖊️2 - 𝓦𝓪𝓴𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓾𝓹 𝓸𝓷 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓡𝓪𝓿𝓪𝓰𝓮𝓭 𝓑𝓮𝓪𝓬𝓱

Under the terms of his Archfey pact, Deoradhán has spent the recent years of his life within an endless forest. That was the life he knew, and it was the life he accepted... that was until a Nautiloid Ship came crashing into the trees, and whisked the secretive Tiefling away.

Deoradhán Fiáin

an Bantiarna Úll - The Apple Lady, this is Deoradhán's patron Fey.

#BG3FicFeb

Word count: 1.5k

His head hurt. By an Bantiarna Úll, his whole body hurt. But, that was a good thing… surely? Pain was a complex burden because as much as it writhed, festering into brittle bones and surging around his body, it meant one thing. Deoradhán was alive. And truthfully, after all that, he had no right to be.

Eyes remained tightly shut, not quite ready to face the fate that he had fallen upon; the crackles of flames danced in the distance, the familiar and comforting scent of soot and ash tainted with something else, that place where he had been taken to. Grabbed from his home and shoved into that pod, and then that thing shoved into him… Oh, that was right. Deoradhán gave as gasp, the inhale wheezed and shattered across his chest as his lungs finally remembered how to work once again, adrenaline and panic settling within his gut like a weight of lead.

He was awake, and alive but as his tail remained flushed against the ground, it was not the comforting softness of dirt and soil, surrounded by the arches of trees and plants, but something different. A quivering hand reached down from where it remained upon his lap to the ground, threading through what remained in the undergrowth but found no grit and the crumble of what he knew but tiny grains that fell through parted fingers, catching under obsidian nails. Sand? A grimace fell to a tense face as he finally begged his eyes to open, there was no use hiding away from it any longer. No trees to bring shade across his face, nor the comforting chorus of birds, just blue that was becoming more blurred by the moment with smoke. Shit. Shit, Fuck. Shit.

He was not in the forest. He had not fallen from that thing and gasped awake from an awful nightmare back to his reality, but merely fell into a more palatable nightmare.

He had abandoned his post, by no choice of his own. Deoradhán gave a heavy sigh, and with an extra moment or two drew himself up, each movement stiff and slowed, bones feeling as if they were made of ice and poison ivy. Hutched up in a bundle, the tiefling swallowed as he rested his cheek upon his knees, pulling them tightly into his chest and making himself as small as possible. He wanted to cry, wanted to weep and scream out but he knew that would not help even if his body had the energy to do such a thing. His long tail swept agitated within the sand, hating the feeling against his skin as the sharp gains shifted in and out of the small tear that spilt through the edge of the pointed tip. The limb eventually gave up with the annoying feeling and wrapping around his body just as tightly. He had no right to cry, he was alive wasn’t he?

Wasn’t he?

A screech left his lips before he had a moment to stop it, the dull aches of pain he felt across his body conquered by something stronger and deeper concentrated at his face, iced needles scratched and caressed at his skull in such intensity he forgot how to breath while his own nails clasped around, begging for it to stop.

And it did, after a moment; leaving the tiefling panting and even more confused than before. Hands slowly lost their tension as the moment flew past as quickly as it arrived, brushing through strands of hair and trying to organise them back to the small plaits that pulled at the side to keep the majority away from his face but he was shaking so much it was useless. Nails traced up the curve of his horns, starting at the base of his forehead and reaching towards the sky before a bitter sorrow landed in his chest, the flowers and vines that had once clambered around his horns as if they were their natural home remained pulled away and tattered, with only the single ring of a stubborn flower remaining. It felt at that moment that even the forest had given up on him, as he was sure it seemed he had done to the forest. It was not by choice he had been pulled from his post! It wasn’t fair. He didn’t ask for any of this. His hands threaded down his waist, wrapping around the hilt of a small dagger, it seemed his captors had been arrogant enough to leave that in the tieflings possession, Deoradhán was just annoyed he never had the opportunity to use the thing and those things met their end by fall and flame, not by his own hand.

Another frustrated scream shook the man, burying his face further into his knees before the scent of flames dancing beside him on the barren beach became twisted with something new and unfamiliar… salt? A lot of salt. The curiosity was enough to pull his eyes away from his lap and moment of self pity, slowly peering up before a new gasp fell, piqued with childlike excitement that in that moment seemed to erase all the burden and pain the previous hours had bestowed upon him. Deoradhán slowly stood, cyan eyes bright and never leaving the spot before him as he unwrapped himself and eased up. The breeze that cut off the thing drifted through his hair and teased loose fitting clothing, crudely sewn together over many years to at least try and keep it in one piece. The ocean.

He had read stories about it, once he was sure… everything was foggy. He must have as he knew what it was without ever seeing it before. “Wow.” The breath gave hot and heavy as he moved, tail low and draping within the sand as it left a small path behind with each step towards the edge of the shore; standing there and allowing the low dregs of the tide to lap at his feet while the figure stood there, stunned. There had never been a desire to see the ocean, never any comfort found in such a thing, yet in that moment it was a blanket of reassurance across his shoulders, only deepened by the fact he was alone. If he was alone, he could handle most things, after all he had for all this time.

Deoradhán sighed as he took another step forward, freezing as the water lapped against his feet, caressing and feeding into the cracks of his leather, the boots just as abused as the clothing he wore. Once they could have been nice, simple and cheap as all they could afford but… nice. Now they barely hung to his frame, having been ripped and scorn many times, attempts of repair were soddy and from an unpractised hand but it was enough. The shirt upon his back as ripped and abused as his tail now sunk down into the sand, flicking away at the strange feeling. The water was somewhat peaceful, despite it being the backdrop to chaos itself. Not enough to meet the terms he was sure of, as there were no stars about at all, only the blazing sun and no trees or plants to offer shelter. The swooshing of the waves seemingly relaxing the tiefling’s breathing as he stood there, in and out with each coax and roll of the water, the nature here was not what he knew yet it was able to calm him just as much as his forest. A small blessing in itself. Peace became interrupted though by steps, the breaking of sand across the way, Deoradhán felt himself ridge as he turned sharply, the moment of peace and tranquillity shattering and falling away to leave only the inner feelings of dread and panic that had been first felt upon waking up. Was it those things that had come back to finish the job?!

A snarl left his lips before he even turned, before he had even taken a moment to register it couldn’t have possibly been those things at all. Dagger that clung to his side within his hand and a swift turn sprang Deoradhán forward towards the newcomer, his lithe frame bringing the blade towards the strangers neck before finally registering the distinct lack of tentacles… but there was also a lack of red flesh, fangs or horns, of signs worth trusting… Removing the events of the day unfolded, it was the first time the tiefling had been up close to another in… more time than he knew how to count. There should have been a joy, should have been relief that he had found someone who seemed to be in the exact situation but all that remained was that bitter rage from before, never allowed an outlet and so could only be left to rest and bubble within his gut, turning from hot tears to an icy malice over time.

But, Deoradhán was at least not an idiot. He at least knew enough that slitting this stranger's throat would just be denying himself a resource and so he pulled away, making sure to do so with a scoff which could have both been an insult and an apology in one; though the not so accidentally splashing them with his damp sleeves certainly played towards the former. “Caught me off guard.”

[deathbyvalentine]

Slayers Fic

Aftermath

It was getting to be light by the time he had walked home alone and entered the front door, the street hushed in the blue dawn. It had taken longer than he would have liked to move the bodies, make the calls.

He stood in the doorway for a long second, fingers hesitating over the light switch before pulling away, stepping in and shutting the door behind him. He shrugged off his coat and hung it next to one of Jones's coats. He untied his boots and put them in the jumble with Jones's trainers. The house was still and quiet. Jellybean peered around the living room doorway.

He crossed the hallway straight into the kitchen. His eyes lingered on the fridge for a long moment. Photographs of him and Jones. Photographs of the entire Super Secret Bullshit Club. Pictures of him and Paris. He reached up and took down the one of his boyfriend, holding it for a long moment before placing it facedown on the counter, unable to look any longer. The rest of the photographs could stay on the fridge. He couldn't even bring himself to touch them. Just like he couldn't move the two plates waiting by the sink with two coffee mugs, the quick breakfast him and Jones had before heading out. He shuddered, closed his eyes and then forced himself to move.

Briskly, he rummaged in the junk drawer, producing a notepad and biro. He began writing, the title of the page 'TO-DO.'

Organising deep cleaning for the community center.

Change Jones's contact details in the Clinic to his.

Start looking for a 'Heywater Capable' doctor so he wasn't doing this singlehandedly.

Call the people he had used for the memorial to the Saint William Vampires and commission one for Jones.

Sort out a date to go and inform Jones's parents of their daughters death.

He felt like his breath was robbed from him on that last one and he braced himself against the counter, forcing himself to breath steadily and deeply. When he moved, he realised he had been holding the counter so tight it had left red ridges across his palms. He had to keep moving.

He began to unpack his bag but everywhere he went in this house, there Jones was. Her blanket across the sofa. Clothes in the washing machine. Notes left for him on the side table. Clinic budgets in a stack on the coffee table. Toothbrush in the bathroom. A book, open to a page she would never finish. He would have to tidy these things. Do something with them. But he couldn't even bring himself to look at them. Jellybean had been following him around the house, looking quizzical. He couldn't look at him yet either.

But he ran out of things to do eventually. His backpack was emptied, bloody clothes in the wash, himself showered to rid himself of gore. After changing into clean, soft pyjamas he stood in the middle of the living room. Jellybean came and sat at his feet. Finally, Tommy looked down, scritched behind his ears. He moved to the sofa, calling to Jellybean to join him. He sat, looking into his deep red eyes. Tommy stroked him, appreciating another living thing being this close.

"Hey boy. I have... bad news. I d-d-don't know how to - " A deep sucking breath. Jellybean was a hellhound. He would already know, no matter what Jones wished. "She isn't coming back. I'm s-s-sorry. I tried. I promise I tried." And it was like something shifted in his chest and he was sobbing. Jellybean nuzzled close and Tommy buried his face in the nape of his neck, shuddering with the pain of it. Jellybean licked his hands, his face, trying to comfort him. Tommy stayed there, crying into his dog until the first rays of sunlight crept into the room.

______________________________________________________________

Parents

Tommy sat on the sofa, knees pressed together tight. He smiled gratefully as a mug of tea was handed to him, curling his fingers around it as if trying to keep some of the warmth for himself. They know him, vaguely, one or two polite conversations in brisk visits, a few times picking up the housephone and taking their messages. They weren't close, he thinks. He's drifted from his parents too, his sister. How could you keep them in a life of immortality and monsters? What did you even talk about when your entire world is different from theirs? The guilt tended to gnaw at him but never more than at this moment when he was about to tell these people that their daughter was dead.

It's not clean. He stumbles through it, determined not to cry himself but also not to lie, not to insult their intelligence. He watches as their faces go from polite confusion to bewilderment to folding in with grief. Death makes everyone smaller, not just the corpse. He fumbles in his bag, fingers slipping off the catch to find her book, press it into their hands, say something about how it will explain everything. It won't.

His tea has gone cold. He keeps hold of it anyway.

He doesn't know what to do when they start crying. He shifts in his seat. Should he leave? Stay? He will forever now be stained with death, the boy that told them the worst news. Automatically his mind flashes to the purifying rituals he knows, clean blood with blood - but he didn't murder her, he reminds himself. His crime was negligence, not malice. Not being quick enough. That was his fatal flaw, the one that ran down him like a crack in the earth. Always too slow.

He tells them that Jones was brave (he doesn't call her Daphne, not even now.) He tells them that she saved a lot of people, including him many times over. He tells her how much she was loved. It's the last point where his voice can't carry him any longer. The words stick in his throat and he wants to be sick. Talking about her in the past tense is a sensation akin to being stabbed through. And he would know.

Half an hour passes before he leaves. He gets a handshake which makes him want to shudder. Like he deserves to be thanked or respected. But he squeezes back. Rituals are important. Even the painful ones. Perhaps especially those.

Outside the air is chill and there's a fine mist of rain. When he steps out and the door clicks shut behind him, he takes a deep, deep breath. Somewhere up there, there's stars. Even if he can't see them, they shine regardless.

______________________________________________________________

Hopeless

He turns over in bed and reaches over to the opposite side, eyes closed as his hand grasps nothing but pillow. He opens his eyes, blearily, and it takes him a moment to realise that Paris is not going to be in the kitchen making coffee or in the studio carving wood. That he wasn't ever going to be again. He stills and lies in bed for a few long moments, letting that weight settle in over him. He's done this every morning for two weeks.

He was used to Asclepius not being there. His main trait, it often felt like, was absence. It no longer stung the way it once did. You got so used to feeling certain types of pain, it just turned into background radiation. But Paris was different. It seemed like every time he reached out a hand into the indifferent dark, Paris was there, clutching it tight. Now he faced the dark on his own.

He sat up, rubbing at his face and putting on his glasses. He spared a glance to his phone that told him both Lydia and Daniel had texted him. He ignored too the letter waiting on his desk that was almost certainly from Michael. He couldn't bear to be around people at the moment. It felt like his nerves were exposed to the air - whenever anybody got close he wanted to shrink back, in case they tried to comfort him, touch him metaphorically or literally. He was too raw.

Jellybean snuffled at his bare feet and he reached down to fondle his ears. Jellybean was doing a lot of emotional heavy lifting for Tommy at the moment. They were joined at the hip, never more than an arms breadth away. He was fairly positive at this point he qualified as a service hell hound. He goes to make coffee.

It's a quiet morning. Soft light floods the kitchen in a way that once might have made him think of Apollo but now makes him think of Jones. While the kettle boils, he looks out at the olive tree in the back garden, hand resting on the cool metal of the sink. On his ring finger, an ivy tattoo curls. When the coffee is brewed he opens the back door to let Jellybean out, sitting on the step. He sips. Sometimes on mornings like this, he talks to Jones. About his day. About patients. About Family drama. About how lonely he was, how much he missed her. It wasn't praying. And he knew mostly, he was talking to himself. But not talking to her was somehow worse. As if it meant she wasn't there at all. He finishes his coffee. He goes back inside.

He's had to seperate his days into designated categories. Monday is the clinic admin. Tuesday is the clinic practical. Wednesday is family duties and/or artist commune duties. Thursday is the community center. Friday, Saturday, Sunday, labyrinth. He was trying to make a catalogue at the moment and it was slow, fiddly going. Though it gave him a good excuse to walk and walk for miles until he was so tired he fell into a dreamless sleep when he came back home. That was important. Sleep was the only time he could stop thinking.

He decided to visit Paris's studio again. He had kept it exactly as it had been, bar murderous statues and anything that looked too magical to be part of the landscape. There were statues that would never be finished. Wood shavings that would never be swept away. A hoody hanging on a chair, a empty mug waiting to be washed. It was just like somebody had pressed pause on this room and it was waiting to resume play. He stood in the center of the room and closed his eyes, smelling the wood polish, the almost sharp smell of pine. He could picture Paris, no, Hope, perfectly here. The way he moved, what he did when in this space. When he opened his eyes though, there was nothing there. One day his memories would fade or this room would have to be changed and then he would lose him all over again. Like Jones. Like Loki.

Once your worst fears have been realised, you just come up with new ones. Once he was afraid of losing what he loved. Now he was afraid of forgetting what he had lost. And so on it goes. Life was about waiting for the next fear to materialise. Nobody liked admitting it, but there it was. With trembling fingers, he ran his hand over a half-done carving. At last, something he could keep.

_____________________________________________________________

Lie to me

Tommy lay on the beautifully upholstered sofa, eyes screwed up tight so he didn't cry. Ava was stroking his hair, Ana making him coffee. Michael was close by, a little age still resting in his shoulders. "Lie to me, Michael. Please."

There was a sigh, deep and weary. "Oh kid. Bad guys can always be turned good and you're never too slow to save anyone. Nobody ever dies and nobody ever leaves you. Families always stick together and they don't hurt you. Violence is never necessary, talking can always solve it. Magic and power don't corrupt. And there's always a happy ending. Always."

______________________________________________________________

100% Real

They deserved better than this. Than a community center, rings that were leaves ripped from a brain washed god, only a few people watching. He wished they had time to do it properly. Time not borrowed.

Because the thing was, the end of the world never came. Paris wouldn't win. Time after time they snatched the earth from the jaws of defeat and saved it. It was what they did. He wished, right now, it wasn't.

Never had a wedding so much felt like a funeral. Like a goodbye.

He kept expecting to feel anger but he couldn't reach it. The feeling eluded him. Because anger was an emotion that you felt when your brain felt it deserved better. And Tommy wasn't sure he deserved better. No, actually, he had never expected better. Wasn't he waiting for the other shoe to drop the entire time with Paris? Always looking for the flaw, the problem, the trick. Admittedly even he hadn't thought it would be this big.

Maybe it would be easier if he was enchanted. If he had been charmed into love with Paris, easy to dispel with his own or the power of the gods. But it wasn't. Paris hadn't needed to use magic or coercion. After all, who wouldn't fall in love with him? He was perfect. That was his first flaw.

He had been smashed into pieces when Asclepius left him. Sobs ripping through him like a hurricane, an absolute conviction that the world must stop on its axis. He had learnt from that. The world would keep on turning and this time his grief would be cold and still within him. The only war he could really wage was against his own foolish self and he had been fighting that one for a long time now.

He promised to love him for always, because he would. Once Tommy loved somebody, he never stopped. That was his flaw. The fatal crack running down the middle of him was always his love. He held Paris's hands for what might be the last time. He memorised the smile and carved it within himself. Never to forget. This moment could be as immortal as the both of them were. This moment alone could be untouched.

______________________________________________________________

Found Family

Daniel. Friends with Athena. Darling of the British Museum. Forgiven by family and no longer cursed. Enduring stone, still, but no longer tortured by it.

Lydia. Goddess. Reunited with her cousin. Worshipped and revered, even in her grief, even in her flawed glory. She would be remembered, for better or for worse.

Tori. Goddess. Regent of the Underworld. Richer than god, still. Aloof and shadowy as she ever was, leagues away from the life that pulsed up here.

Jones. Dead.

Michael, Anna, Ava. Their own happily ever after. Enjoying retirement. Enjoying the world they had protected and bled for.

(The Greek Lot. Did they even count? He supposed they did. But he couldn't be amongst them fully, not yet. Too soon, in about five different respects.)

His family were scattered. He couldn't keep all of them together. That magical time where they were in each other's pockets was over and, supposedly, this world was better for it. He returned to the loneliness of his life before Heywater, a little older, a lot tireder and with a to-do list a mile long. Circles. Everything was circles. What once has passed will come again. He believed that. He really did.

And in the mean time, all he could do was wait.

[crackednailsandsplitends]

Finding Acceptance and Positivity When Living With Chronic Illness

Living with a chronic illness is tough, there's no denying it. It can drain you mentally, physically, and emotionally. But I refuse to let it defeat me. It's been a journey of acceptance and positivity, finding that perfect balance to live my best life despite the limitations that my body has forced upon me. And let me tell you, it's not easy, but it's worth it.

Living with a chronic illness is challenging, but it's not impossible to live a fulfilling life. By finding that balance between acceptance and positivity, educating myself, focusing on what I can control, and setting realistic goals, I learned that there's always a way to make the most of my situation.

How I achieve that balance: 

Accepting my situation 

First and foremost, accepting my situation was key. I had to learn that it's okay to have limitations, and that I needed to make adjustments to my lifestyle and routines.

Educating myself:

This has been an important one for me. For me to able to accept and adapt, I have to understand as much as I can about my conditions. Understanding the nature of my illness, treatment options, and self-care strategies empowers me to take an active role in managing my health. Knowledge helps me to make informed decisions and reduce anxiety.

Focus on what you can control:

Another crucial factor was focusing on what I can control. Dwelling on what I can't do just wasted precious energy. Instead, I learned to shift my focus to what I can control and the choices I have in front of me.

Setting realistic goals 

I’ve accepted that I’m now not able to accomplish everything I want to, but I can still focus on achieving what is possible. I do this by learning to Pace myself and by breaking down goals into smaller, more manageable tasks. So for example, I wanted to re-organise the utility room, but instead of doing it all in one go (which would not be possible for me), I set small goals by achieving bit by bit, paced out and spread across the week.

Find joy in the little things

Focusing on the positive aspects of my family, friends and life improves my overall well-being. Every day I try to find joy in the little things - like spending time with loved ones, my mum brings my baby niece around every Friday, or I watch as my daughter shows me her art projects. My son’s telling me about their day. And, my dogs bring me much joy every day.  Additionally, I enjoy watching your favourite TV shows, writing blog posts, or simply indulging in a nice dessert now and then. These small moments of happiness can help lift my mood and they certainly make life more enjoyable.

Taking care of me

Taking care of myself physically, mentally, and emotionally is crucial. I pace myself and make sure I get enough rest, I eat a healthy diet, and practice yoga regularly - even if it's just light stretching. I engage in activities that I enjoy and make time for self-care like, reading, or lying on my acupuncture mat (It’s so good for relieving pain). I also love to indulge in beauty products, trying out new creams or painting my nails etc. 

Practice self-compassion:

I try to be gentle and understanding with myself on the days when I feel discouraged or overwhelmed. I treat myself with kindness and compassion, acknowledging that it's okay to have ups and downs. Remembering that I am doing my best, and it's important to be patient and forgiving with myself.

Finally, finding a balance between acceptance and positivity can be challenging when living with a chronic illness. But with patience, practice, and self-care, you can learn to live a fulfilling life despite your condition. Remember to prioritize your physical, mental, and emotional well-being and surround yourself with a supportive people.

[toppackersandmoversin2023]

Moving to New City After Marriage: Relocation tips for Newlyweds

Congratulations on your marriage and happy married life. It is the new phase of your life. If you are planning to move to a new place to live a happy and peaceful life with your spouse. Then you need to read this blog. In our culture people move to a new city soon after they get married to start their new life or due to better opportunity or due to any other reasons. We understand this will be very painful for someone to leave everything behind them and go to a new place.

Sometimes it is not so easy to start a new life with a new person in a new city, without knowing any basic things about the new city. It is very hard to adapt to new things easily in life but one can do all these things easily if they know a few things about the place. So that you will not be completely dependent on your spouse for the small things. 

Do a Walkthrough- It is always better to do a complete walkthrough of your locality and new house when it is completely empty. So before shifting your belongings or setting your furniture take a look around your locality and new house. You need to check few things before moving to a new house (Packers and Movers):

You need to check whether all requested and agreed repairs have been made by the previous owner.

You need to check everything that is included in the sale agreement is present in the house.

You need to double check everything is in working order, including outlets, switches, and fixtures.

After checking all the things, if you find an issue which is against the sale contract then you need to immediately call the realtor and you need to specify the issue. If the issue is not covered under the agreement then it is your responsibility to solve the issue.

Set up a Security System - Safety is an important factor which we have considered before moving to a new house. It is important to feel safe in your new home or where you stay.  Everyone does different things whenever they shift to a new house like some people change locks so that prior residents don’t have access, installing motion detectors or cameras, using a smart doorbell, or setting up a full-fledged home security system. There are many different types of tools available these days to help you in security.

Figure Out What’s Going Where - You need to organise yourself. It will not only save you time but also you will quickly be able to settle into the new house. You need to keep the box labelled so that you will be aware which box is having which item. This way you don't have to search into the boxes. While shifting your large and heavy items like furniture you already have a basic idea of what goes in what room, before moving into a new house you need to think about exactly how you will like to set up your new house. But you can later make changes this way things get easier.

Locate the Fuse Box and Water Valve - Before shifting home you need to check the fuse box and water valve, these are two important things which you can ignore.  When they are required you don’t want to end up looking for them . It is advisable to identify their locations so that when the power goes out or when you need to turn off the water for some reason you will immediately be able to make your way there directly. Practically your fuse box will be in your basement, garage, or a storage room, and your home’s water valve located somewhere around the perimeter of your house.

Make new Friends - Friends are an essential part of life and they will make our life happy and easy. Try to make new friends in the city, so that they will help you in settling and so that you can handout. Also you need to maintain the relationship with your old friends by scheduling phone calls, video calls, etc. Make new friends and try to keep the old friends happy.

[trendypackersandmoversin2023]

Moving to New City After Marriage: Relocation tips for Newlyweds

Congratulations on your marriage and happy married life. It is the new phase of your life. If you are planning to move to a new place to live a happy and peaceful life with your spouse. Then you need to read this blog. In our culture people move to a new city soon after they get married to start their new life or due to better opportunity or due to any other reasons. We understand this will be very painful for someone to leave everything behind them and go to a new place.

Sometimes it is not so easy to start a new life with a new person in a new city, without knowing any basic things about the new city. It is very hard to adapt to new things easily in life but one can do all these things easily if they know a few things about the place. So that you will not be completely dependent on your spouse for the small things. 

Do a Walkthrough- It is always better to do a complete walkthrough of your locality and new house when it is completely empty. So before shifting your belongings or setting your furniture take a look around your locality and new house. You need to check few things before moving to a new house (Packers and Movers Ahmedabad):

You need to check whether all requested and agreed repairs have been made by the previous owner.

You need to check everything that is included in the sale agreement is present in the house.

You need to double check everything is in working order, including outlets, switches, and fixtures.

After checking all the things, if you find an issue which is against the sale contract then you need to immediately call the realtor and you need to specify the issue. If the issue is not covered under the agreement then it is your responsibility to solve the issue.

Set up a Security System - Safety is an important factor which we have considered before moving to a new house. It is important to feel safe in your new home or where you stay.  Everyone does different things whenever they shift to a new house like some people change locks so that prior residents don’t have access, installing motion detectors or cameras, using a smart doorbell, or setting up a full-fledged home security system. There are many different types of tools available these days to help you in security.

Figure Out What’s Going Where - You need to organise yourself. It will not only save you time but also you will quickly be able to settle into the new house. You need to keep the box labelled so that you will be aware which box is having which item. This way you don't have to search into the boxes. While shifting your large and heavy items like furniture you already have a basic idea of what goes in what room, before moving into a new house you need to think about exactly how you will like to set up your new house. But you can later make changes this way things get easier.

Locate the Fuse Box and Water Valve - Before shifting home you need to check the fuse box and water valve, these are two important things which you can ignore.  When they are required you don’t want to end up looking for them . It is advisable to identify their locations so that when the power goes out or when you need to turn off the water for some reason you will immediately be able to make your way there directly. Practically your fuse box will be in your basement, garage, or a storage room, and your home’s water valve located somewhere around the perimeter of your house.

Make new Friends - Friends are an essential part of life and they will make our life happy and easy. Try to make new friends in the city, so that they will help you in settling and so that you can handout. Also you need to maintain the relationship with your old friends by scheduling phone calls, video calls, etc. Make new friends and try to keep the old friends happy.

[house-of-galathynius]

Every Step of the Way

This is a part two of this and is my first fic for Rowan Week: November 10th. A little dad Rowan for you all! 

Word Count: 1.5k

@rowaelinscourt 

~~~ 

Aelin closed the door to their house quietly. Her class had run over, eating into her shift at university library, so she had stayed late. Her drive home had been disastrous too and all she wanted to do now was find Rowan and their daughter, Ophelia. Although their eighteen-month old should be in bed at this hour, but knowing Rowan he had probably snuck her into their bed and were watching cartoons or reading.

Whilst it was nice to be home, their house was nothing special. Rowan’s university had offered them the off-campus accommodation for half the price of what it was normally— mostly because of Rowan’s academic excellence— and although it was more than a thirty minute commute and the kitchen looked like it had come straight out of the eighties, it was warm and there was a little garden in the back that Ophelia loved to run around in.

Aelin silently tiptoed through the house, careful to avoid toys that were scattered all over the place and the pile of clean washing that she was still meaning to put away. She poked her head around the corner and into the living room, but it was empty. There was no noise coming from anywhere and she furrowed her brow as she traipsed up the stairs and looked into Ophelia’s room. She stopped short and felt her heart warm as she took in the scene before her.

Rowan was fast asleep in the big armchair in the corner the bedroom. Ophelia— who should have been tucked into her own bed— was sprawled out over him, her head tucked into Rowan’s neck and her fingers grasping the ends of her dad’s hair gently. Aelin wanted to snap a picture, adding it to her thousands of pictures she had already collected on her phone. But there was something too private about it that made her stop and just admire them both for a moment.

Having a baby so young had not been easy. When Aelin had found out during the end of her last year in high school, she had been terrified and definitely not ready to have a child. But Rowan had been nothing but supportive— he had organised the housing with his university, he had helped Aelin find another university nearby that she could transfer to. Their parents had of course been slightly disappointed that they had not been more careful, but had tried their best to give them the help they both needed. Aelin’s mother staying with them for the first two months after Ophelia had been born; and it had been the hardest thing saying goodbye.

Moving hundreds of miles away had been difficult. Her pregnancy had been rocky and there were moments when she was sure they would never be able to do it, that they would never be able to make it. But Rowan had been this steady force beside her and had taken on his role as father better than anyone. He had woken at three in the morning when Ophelia was crying, holding her and rocking her until she would fall back asleep— even though he would have to be up at seven the next morning. He had changed diapers whilst studying for exams and fed her whilst writing essays. He had held Aelin’s hand through it all, figuratively and literally. She had fallen more and more in love with him, he truly was the best dad any child could ask for.

She slipped from the room, going to their own bedroom and trying to silently change into her own pyjamas before creeping back down the hall. She hated to wake him, but she knew that in the morning he would have pain in his neck and Ophelia would probably be too comfortable to let him leave in time for his class.

So in her attempt to wake him, Aelin planted a soft kiss on Rowan’s head and softly ran a finger down his cheek. His eyes fluttered open slowly and then a small smile grew as he realised who was there. Aelin returned his smile with her own and gestured to Ophelia. Rowan shifted in the seat and just shook his head before he stood up, cradling their baby in his arms before laying her down in her bed.

He rubbed the back of his neck and then leant down to place a soft kiss on his daughters cheek. Rowan seemed to pause for a moment, watching Ophelia settle into her new spot. When she had finally stopped fidgeting and had settled into a position, Rowan finally turned to Aelin.

She smiled warmly at him and padded over to where he stood and slid her arms around his waist. Her head rested on his chest, just as Ophelia’s had done and she closed her eyes, feeling the warmth of him and listening to the steady beat of his heart.

“I saved you some food if you’re hungry.” Rowan whispered.

Aelin shook her head. Ever since having a baby and getting to see Rowan as a father… something had shifted. She was constantly hungry, but more for him.

“Aelin…” He chuckled.

She stepped from his embrace and pulled him gently behind her, leading them into their room. Rowan closed the door behind him and watched as she crawled onto the bed and pulled her top off, revealing her bare chest.

“Whilst she’s still sleeping.” Aelin said, grinning cheekily.

And she knew the he wouldn’t be able to resist. That his ability to have any self-control had gone out of the window since she had been pregnant. Even though she had felt huge and unattractive, Rowan had only seen the most beautiful woman who was carrying his first child. And gods, had they been insatiable.

“Aren’t you tired?” He asked, even as he took off his own clothes and climbed onto the bed, pushing her back so she was lying down and he was hovering over her. He kissed her cheek and then down her neck, lower until he reached her nipple and kissed that lightly too. Aelin sucked in a breath and managed to shake her head.

“I’m never tired for you.”

Rowan kissed her then. His lips were warm and soft, he tasted like peppermint and she groaned into him. She would never get enough of him— of this.

They were both moving so their bodies were touching in every possible way, their breaths mingling together as they tasted and touched and it was utter heaven. Aelin never wanting anything more than she did Rowan. He was moving down her stomach now, his lips leaving kisses as he passed and was moments from revealing all of her when—

A cry.

They both paused. There was silence for a moment and she thought it must’ve been Ophelia dreaming. But then— another.

Aelin closed her eyes and sighed. Rowan climbed off of her and pulled on his clothes, giving her a weary look before he had traipsed from the room and no doubt down the hallway to their daughter. Aelin remained lying there for a second longer before she sat up and found her pyjama top and put it back on.

She eventually followed Rowan and even though she was a little peeved that she couldn’t finish what they had started, she couldn’t help but soften at the scene before her. Rowan was holding Ophelia in his arms again, one of his hands smoothing her messy hair down and planting little kisses on her head. Their daughter was sniffling in his arms, she glanced to Aelin once— and Aelin almost had her arms out ready to take over— but her daughter just buried her head back into her fathers shoulder.

“She was scared.” Rowan explained.

Their daughter was only eighteen months and her vocabulary was still limited, but was able to say enough for them to understand.

Aelin still couldn’t quite get used to Rowan holding a child. He was this tall, broad man, his face almost always in a scowl and yet... when he held their daughter, everything about him seemed to soften. His whole demeanour changed and it was a weirdly beautiful thing. Aelin didn’t think she would ever get enough of seeing him hold their child. She would never get enough of watching him teach her how to speak or how he would chase her around the garden pretending to be a scary monster. She loved to see him hold her on his chest and tell her stories or laugh when he came out the bathroom soaking wet because she liked to splash.

She loved the way he had grown into fatherhood so well. How he took everything in his stride and never once doubted or hesitated to be there for them both. Aelin was in awe of everything about him.

Rowan looked to her, almost as if he could sense her thoughts. “Go to sleep, fireheart,” he stepped over to her and placed a kiss on her own cheek, “I’ll be in soon.”

She wanted to stay and witness these sweet moments between them. But her body was tired and she could feel the exhaustion setting in. So she kissed her little girl and then Rowan and found her own room again, crawling into her bed, sleep finding her soon after.

~~~

Tag List:

@morganofthewildfire @tomtenadia @fredweasleyhasadhd @luckyrunawaycheesecake @live-the-fangirl-life  @fireheart-violet  @charlizeed @scarblx @xo-fangirl-xo  @wordsafterhours @jesstargaryenqueen @sailorsassley @sjmships @endlessdaydream @aflickeringsoul @tillyrubes10 @rowaelin-cressworth @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks @rowaelinismyotp @rosegoldannie @maryberry @viajandosinalas @becarefuloflove @allthebooksunderthemoon @sheharahu @swankii-art-teacher @superspiritfestival @becarefuloflove @tanvee1231 @viajandosinalas @backtobl4ck @emily-gsh​ @whispers-in-the-darkest-heart​ @becarefuloflove​ @goddess-aelin @thegreyj​ @leiawritesstories​ @nerdperson524 @rowanaelinn

[spice-chan]

Ethereal

Yan!Dragon King!Bakugou Katsuki x Water Nymph!f!reader

The water nymphs send an unusual peace offering this year...

Warnings: Reader sent as a peace offering so feelings of objectification are present. Yandere themes. Possessiveness. Yandere bakugou but only becomes outwardly yandere towards the end. Death (killing). Not too descriptive about wounds though, although they are mentioned (not inflicted on reader). Bakugou is a bit of a douchebag at the start.

wordcount: 4.5 k 

tags: @angie-1306 (your ask got deleted but thank god you werent on anon) @axther @reddriot​

A bundled-up body was dropped under his throne, the body writhing and trying to get muffled screams to be heard. 

“My king, the water nymphs made a peace offering. She was dropped off in front of the castle entrance.” 

Bakugou’s rich red eyes calculatedly glanced down, breath hitching for a second at the beauty of the roped female—a water nymph. An offering to him. His eyes made contact with yours, seeing the clear defiance and disdain in them, but he knows this look, behind made walls of resistance and will of steel is a petrified woman afraid of her fate. How unfortunate for you. Your eyes were wide and glassy, cute in their attempt at conveying anger, brows furrowed in a glare that merely made Bakugou smirk in amusement. Your mouth, even with the rope muffling every sound you made, clearly showcased a pair of sweet and kissable lips. 

The nymphs who sacrificed you did you no favour as well, for they left you scantily dressed, leaving you exposed to the hungry eyes of dragons around you, irking Bakugou slightly that others are looking at his prize. 

He left his throne, languidly walking up to you before crouching down to inspect you, to see what’s so special about you. The water nymphs never usually offered one of their own in their attempt at maintaining neutral peace. This ritual which they adopted since ancient times became nothing more than a nicety, they usually offered rare fish, nuts, never a full-fledged nymph, and an attractive one at that. Perhaps the fact that Bakugou, the most renowned dragon shifter finally claimed the throne made them feel unsettled. For his savage and bloodthirsty need to be the absolute best was second to none. 

His calloused palms took a hold of your face, ignoring your attempts at deflecting his hold as his massive palm dwarfed your face and made it plenty clear he can easily crush you. He inspected your face from different angles, seeing nothing extraordinary. He took this opportunity to feel up your soft skin which had been tempting him ever since he noticed you laying helplessly on the floor. He then confirmed the validity of the rumours that claimed water nymphs had skin supple and silky as water. It felt like he was running his finger across the surface of a ripple, a mere dip of his finger could breach the surface. 

Heh, you’re kinda pretty. So very different from draconian women, who had thick builds paired with excellent survival skills and shifting abilities, but you...he bets it was so easy to overpower you and wrap you up nicely for him to unpack his gift. 

He lifts you, his muscles bulging and tensing, proving that carrying you was not a struggle to him in the slightest. 

He ignores your useless thrashing, kicking and resisting like a wild bird held in a tyrant's hand. Its wings contained and nails not doing any damage, freedom seeming further and further away. He walks with you on his shoulders, his massive, hulking shoulders. 

Soon enough, the rowdy chatter of the men becomes scarce, and their figures even more so, making you double your efforts in trying to escape the tyrant lumping you on his shoulders like a sack of potatoes. 

“Tsk, keep bein’ a brat and I’ll have to tie your shitty hands.” He turned his head to look at you as he said this, cementing his statement with a fiery glare that only infuriated you further. 

He ignored any protest you made after that, walking with you and entering a wing that looked to be heaven-sent from the sheer luxury, gold highlights emphasized in every corner, treasures and artefacts littered around the corridor in a painfully tidy and organised to the very centimetre, clearly they got shined twice a day. However, the further he ventured, the more the previous shine lost its glory, it appeared clean, however, the stark contrast to the speckless shine from before was clear. 

Bakugou stopped in front of the grandest door, he twisted the golden doorknob, finally appreciating your quietness. You couldn’t help it, you weren’t particularly rich back home, so to see this reincarnation of decadence really has your eyes glassing, bright in some semblance of joy, you forgot your situation for a second. 

You were rudely reminded when you were dumped down on a hard surface. 

“OUCH, YOU ASSHOLE.” 

When you looked down, however, every profanity disappeared from your tongue as it twisted in awe. You were thrown on a pile of fucking treasure. A huge, mountainous pile of glittering gold and brandished silver, rubies, and every single gem one could imagine. 

Bakugou narrowed his eyes, scowling at how much he liked the view of you on top of his hoard. He smirked, feeling prideful and accomplished until he noticed that the walls of fury and fire you built up ever since he saw broke in the worst way possible. Your face was scrunched, it felt like your cheeks were lit aflame in humiliation as tears streaked down your adorable face.

Bakugou felt like the biggest douchebag to walk the earth. 

You brought your knees closer and hid your face behind them, body shaking as you sobbed. Your tribe sent you as a peace offering, not caring for the slightest about your well being and fate, and now you're stuck here with a brute of a king who has no qualms with treating you like a glorified piece of jewellery. You didn’t want him to see this side of you this soon, you didn’t want him to see how petrified you are, how weak and defenceless you are compared to him. You wanted to rivers of anguish gushing from your eyes to stop, but they wouldn’t. 

“Hey…” he tried to console you. It was a poor attempt from an unpractised dragon. 

You tried to speak, navigate around that lump in your throat to shout at him, tell him to leave you alone, but your voice failed you just like everything tends to. 

You felt him clumsily try to lift your head in a gesture that fell between a forceful demand and a soothing touch. What is up with him now? 

You relented and showed him your puffy eyes, glistening eyes, looking at him with trembling lips.

“Tch, stop crying! You—you’ll get snot and tears all over my hoard.” 

It was the wrong thing to say, because a fresh batch of tears came, staining the apples of your cheeks. 

“Fuck—no. I didn’t mean that.”  Your sniffling was reduced to mere hiccups, break down halting at the sight of the most feared man on the earth, the legendary dragon king bakugou, most hardened warrior and skilled shifter, attempting to apologise. 

“Shit—I wouldn’t have to be so rough if I knew it bothered you this much.” He pouted, cheeks turning a shade of red that seems almost adorable, turning away from you to scowl at the floor. 

Fuck, his mother taught him better, yet the sight of you made him forget any semblance of manners, eager to get his hands on you and away from the prying eyes of people to who you didn’t belong. 

An innate sense of possessiveness engulfed him, one that can only be appeased with you sitting on the one place most intimate and guarded by him: his hoard. 

But, he’ll tone it down until he gets you more pliant and accepting. 

“Stay where you are.” He simply commanded before walking off. 

You stayed there, mind urging you to run away, a foolish choice your pride keeps urging you to make. Runaway, in a castle heavily guarded, without having the slightest clue how to get to the exit. 

Yeah, bad idea. You’re sure you aren’t welcome back ‘home’ anyway. The thought feels like a sharp dagger slicing your heart, taking its time carving the pain into you. 

Soon enough, Bakugou is back, trying to tone down his intimidating aura, but to no avail, for he noticed you shrinking at the sight of his hulking figure. It stung him a little, making his frown a little tighter. 

“Come with me,” he said curtly, then walked swiftly out, his cape swishing behind him,  making you scramble to follow him, struggling to keep up with his fast steps, frustration slowly rising like bile up your throat and making it harder to stay silent and compliant. 

He took you out of the castle, ignoring the curious looks to the best of his ability, but before he could step a foot outside the gate, he grits his teeth in anger and took off his cape. He bundled you in it and lifted you, once again, like a sack of potatoes. But you were too busy feeling like you were lit on fire as you realised that you were walking around in the outfit you were donned in or lack thereof. You buried your face in the fabric, unintentionally making a sound that’s caught between a groan and a whimper. 

He walked behind the castle, climbing places with you on his back until he got to where he needed to be

When you arrived, however, you are almost glad you didn’t voice your woos. The sight before you was breathtaking, so much so that your previous plights evaporated even if for a minute. 

The scenery was breathtaking, it was a cave, and in the corner, if it was a treasure pile, except merely saying it's a pile was an understatement as it was a mountain in its own right. The hoard you saw back at the castle was incomparable. But that’s not what truly captured you. As he led you further in, you realised the true purpose of this journey. 

There was a medium-sized pool, wide enough to fit comfortably in the cave without hogging up all the space, but deep enough that even Bakugou with his stature could enjoy a swim in it. It was clear too, so clear you felt like you could dip your leg in it and see through your very own flesh, that it would make your skin translucent. It was a shade of blue one could only dream of seeing, and after doing so would live their life content. 

Perhaps you were biased, seeing that it’s in your very nature as a water nymph to be needing close contact with water, and to be enamoured with it. 

All rationale left you though, needing for the water to cleanse you of all your stress and pain, and so bakugou’s cape slipped off your shoulders and hit the floor, your figure leaving it behind as you approached the water and slipped inside. You felt a rush of dopamine override all the negativity inside of you, feeling the water hug you, surround you, shield you. 

“So it's true, huh?” 

You almost forgot he was here, but Bakugou didn’t forget about you, not even for a second. He was watching you, fascination swirling in his pupils as your expression melted to one of near happiness, heart lurching with every cute expression you made, that *he* caused. 

“What is?” You replied, turning in the water to face him. 

“That water nymphs live such carefree lives because they spend them inside ponds and lakes.” 

You scrunch your nose at that, unable to fathom the exact meaning of his words but having an idea. “We don’t live carefree lives. Not all are given that luxury, at least not me.” You said, giving him a once over with a glare to signify that he’s the problem. He’s the root cause of your misery, Bakugou doesn’t know how to feel about that. It’s quite unfortunate really. 

He shrugs his shoulders and reverts to his default face, feigning nonchalance. 

“Well, it doesn’t seem like much goes on in your ditzy head.” 

You felt your face warm, could very well hear the aggressive thrumming of your blood as you gritted your teeth in anger. And you were about to unleash the full force of your fury until you heard wings flapping outside. 

You turned your head, trying to take a glance at the disturbance, but your view was shielded by Bakugou, who moved unnaturally fast for someone who made it clear how nothing phases him. And not fast enough for you to think it’s a real threat. 

He came back moments later with an attire you regretfully recognized. 

No, scratch that, he brought several. Pale, light flowy dresses that are often worn by your people. Light enough that they wouldn’t mind an occasional soak in water. 

Your anger dissipated, melting into confusion, then quickly becoming embarrassment as you realised you were comfortably standing in front of him in your underwear. 

You should feel happy, but bile rose up your throat, the taste of humiliation clear on your tongue as you realised with distaste that he was indeed right, you did live carefreely. You also realised you won’t be able to live like that ever again, and that very realisation brought tears to your eyes once again. 

“Tch, just take one and wear it. I don’t need you crying again.” 

Your face fell, and Bakugou felt his heart twinge a little when you responded with silence, looking at your sad face made him feel oddly protective. It’s probably because you were his treasure. Like his hoard right? He always needs his treasure to be kept in optimum conditions. 

Having justified that to himself, he didn’t feel as weird now regarding what he was about to do. 

While you changed into one of the outfits he got you, he dug through his hoard, knowing exactly what item he wanted to dig out. His fingers slithered through countless gold pieces, shining enough to cure a greedy man’s blindness. He finally found it, a delicate golden chain, but what demands attention is the ruby hanging from it. He brings a thumb to it, rubbing the rock appreciatively, liking the semblance of the colour to his eyes. 

You coughed, signaling you you were done, snapping away his wondrous gaze from the necklace. 

You looked really pretty in the dress, he’s got to thank Kiri for the speed run to the shops that he did. The light material hugs your skin, looking stretchy, yet form fitting that it hugged your body in a way that made Bakugou jealous. 

You looked in your element now, but somehow the awkwardness still lingered in the air as you avoided his gaze.  

Bakugo didn’t try to be subtle when checking you out, in his eyes, you were *his* whether or not that’s what he chose so he can at least check what he has right? 

Bakugou didn’t pay heed to the slow spiral of his morals, of the things he worked so hard to uphold. His justifications were slowly manifesting into delusions. 

He approached you, ignoring the way you tensed when he went behind you, turning around to question him, but he was quickly done. Your eyes caught the glistening red ruby hanging from your neck, the colour rich and deep like red wine. You didn’t hate it, but confusion swirled in your veins at his actions. 

“Looks good on you.” The colour looks like my eyes, it reminds me that you’re mine. 

Bakugo wasn’t sure why he held off on telling you what’s on his mind, he usually doesn’t hesitate once to tell the truth. 

Your wide, glittery eyes stared up at him, trying but failing to hide their awe. The anger and resentment took a backseat to intrigue, so did he pick this out for you because he thought it would look nice on you? How strange of him. 

He lifted a calloused finger up, face now cleared and relaxed that he looked pretty, not intimidating, not barbaric, but pretty. He caressed your cheek, smiling slightly when he felt how warm it was. It slipped off his face all too soon when he took the reins back. He squished your cheek, lips once again taking the shape of a sadistic smile. 

“You look dumb” 

Your features hardened, gaze narrowed in anger and hatred that it made Bakugou surprised. Surprised by how much he hated it, or by the sheer intensity? He didn’t have much time to dwell on his thoughts though, because a dainty hand flew his way and slapped his hand away. 

“You-“ you nearly growled in anger, tears once again coating your eyes because of him. “You rude, barbaric, selfish, egoistical “jerk!” You shouted at him. Why were you this angry? 

“Just when I think you might be a decent person.” You rub furiously at your eyes, shoulders slouched in disappointment as you disappeared deeper into the cave and out of his sight. You were always so naive and easy to fool. 

Bakugou felt the full weight of your words weighing down on him, but he tried to shrug it off. He walked out, silently brooding with his thoughts until a servant came and delivered dinner. 

He stood up, walking to you with tje food in his arms, hoping he could butter you up with it. He found you in the deepest part of the cave, face hidden behind your knees, unmoving. 

You were sleeping. 

He set the food down, bending down to try and confirm his observation, only for a remorse to hit him like a truckload after he saw the semi dried tear tracks. He didn’t have to be that mean to you. Maybe his dragon subjects can handle it because they have thicker skin, naturally, and they’re used to him. But you were just thrust into his life today and he’d been laying it thick on you. He’s coming to terms with his attraction to you and he doesn’t know how to deal with it. 

He nudged your shoulder, not wanting to test his voice right now, afraid it might be too gentle. 

You stirred awake, your face relaxed and serene as you blinked blearily. 

“Hm?” You rubbed your eyes, looking at your surroundings with confusion. Your eyes were red. 

He wondered how much you cried. 

He mumbled something unintelligible, you turned your gaze to him, the sleepiness now almost all gone. 

“What? I can’t hear you.” Your tone was sharp and cutting, and your gaze, now devoid of all confusion, was similarly icy. 

“‘didn’t mean to make ya’ cry.” You nearly believed him, nearly. 

“What’s this? Another act to make me lower my guard? Well you don’t need to, I’m at your mercy. You can skip the pleasantries and just laugh at how pathetic I am.” 

He stared at the floor, well, *glared*. 

“You’re not pathetic.” He simply said, glaring at you in a way that dared you to challenge him”-and I’m not going to laugh at you.” 

He could speculate about his feelings all day, drown in this euphoria of infatuation, hate you for making him weak but one thing he knows for sure is that he doesn’t want you to hate him. He wants your eyes to look at him in wonder again, to admire him and fill him with endless pride, to maybe smile at him, he hasn’t seen you smile yet but he bets it’ll be gorgeous. 

It’s only because he wants his treasure to be in optimum condition, nothing more, nothing less. 

“Then why do you go out of your way to demean me?” You questioned accusingly. 

“I don’t, that’s just how I am, you’re going to have to accept it because you’re not going anywhere.” Dread filled you, knowing your days would be filled with humiliation, mocking words echoing in your head like an endless loop. 

You stayed silent, accepting your fate because what else could you do? At least you got your greatest companion to keep away the loneliness; water. He once again waited for a response that never came, and he stood up with a sigh, stretching his limbs. 

“Just eat your food. I guarantee you’ll like it.”

He said, hanging his cape around him once again, reminding you just who he is, making it flutter behind him as he left you all alone. 

He was back early the next day, he found you asleep inside the pool, your head resting on your folded hands on the ledge. The sight had his worry spike so much that a vein was visible on his forehead. He woke you up and scolded you. 

And then he proceeds to lay food in front of you, climbing up to sit on top of his hoard to watch you while you eat, not minding the fact that his gaze was sealed on you for minutes, nor the fact that at some point you scolded him for making you uncomfortable. 

You didn’t like the glint in his eyes. 

In the afternoon he was back with blankets, pillows and other gifts, hoping to sooth the raging waves of your ire. Trying to convince you that he isn’t that bad. 

After a while, his daily visits, gifts…reluctant kindness was all you knew. You were starting to let the memories of your home slip, you were accepting the fact that the previous bonds you forged were inevitably breaking. You were accepting the fact that you’re now stuck in a cave as glorified treasure. 

And it showed, the sadness on your face would linger, numbness in your tone. Even the water was suffocating. 

“CAN YOU STOP ACTING SOULLESS?” And Bakugou eventually couldn’t take it anymore. 

You turned to him, no longer was there a fire raging in your eyes. He’s losing the girl he met in his throne room on a fateful day. He no longer cares whether he has to bare his raw feelings to you, the intimidate, gushy, soft, mushy feelings he feels every time he sees you. He wants to hold you everyday, not like you’re an exotic treasure, *but his* treasure. He wants you have his hatchlings with you, and he wants to see you smile at him. 

“Why should I?” You replied with dullness, not particularly moved. 

“Because…” he looked constipated, his lips clamped together while his cheeks were dusted a cherry red. 

“Because?” You didn’t get it. You’re just like a piece of jewelry right? Why does it matter if you become quiet and compliant? 

“Because I love you.” He said softly, too softly for someone who looks as rugged and rough as him. Now that broke your composure. Your eyes widened, surprise painting your features as the dragon king Bakugou Katsuki just confessed to you. The greatest soldier in the land, the most terrifying shifter. 

He cupped your cheeks, softly stroking the skin, appreciating the soft texture against his scarred hand. His face was so red, even his ears but he was smiling. He was smiling so hard that you wondered whether this was the same person. “I love you, I want you to be happy.” He said, now louder, prouder and more confident in his honeyed words. 

You slapped his hand away. 

“I don’t believe you.” You cruelly stomped on his confession, making his smile fall. 

“But why? Have I not treated you well? I’ve never cared about someone as much as you” 

“Prove you love me.” You challenged, staring him in the eye before adding. 

“I’m pretty sure you can’t though.” 

You turned around and walked away from him, but he decided that wasn’t the end of the conversation and he grabbed your wrist. 

“How?!” Frustration was evident in his voice, but so was desperation. He was genuine about wanting to prove his love to you, what would people think if they saw the great dragon king behaving like this over a woman? 

You ripped yourself from his hold and spat “figure it out.” 

He came back at the dead of night, grunting, laughing and calling your name. You stirred from slumber, eyes fluttering open and peaking out from the blanket you cocooned yourself in. Yoy felt a hand brushing the hair away from your face, lips pressing to your forehead before the fog cleared away to reveal a bloodied Bakugou. 

You screamed, scrambling to move away from him, but he held you back, keeping your supine form in place. With his arms on either side of you, not only holding your arms in place but also supporting his weight above you as he stared down at you like some sort of predator. 

He laughed heartily, and if he wasn’t drenched in blood you’d find it kind of cute. 

“What? Ya’ scared of a little blood? That’s cute.” You swallowed the lump in your throat, asking shakily whose blood it is. 

His eyebrows rose, humming at your question before a cocky smirk took over. 

“You’ll see. This will show you for sure that I love your bratty ass.” He got off you, walking towards the entrance of the cave, dragging a lifeless figure with him before discarding it carelessly in front of you. 

It was the chief of water nymphs. Her old and withered frame looked pale and lifeless, yet brutal gashes littered her body.

“She was the one who sent you here, right?”  

You wordlessly nodded, eyes glued to the corpse in front of you. 

“I couldn’t set you free, ‘cuz I loved you, I won’t stand to have you around. But she hurt you a lot didn’t she? If she didn’t send you here as simply a peace offering, I would have found my way to you eventually and fell in love with you anyway. I don’t keep you because you’re another treasure on my hoard.” Despite the flaw in his justifications, his manic ramblings and his lovesick eyes, you weren’t repulsed, you weren’t mourning the death of the monster who sent you as a peace offering for objecting to her new rules. 

No. Maybe you’re as fucked up as he is, but in a moment of pettiness, you turned to him and smiled. 

You weren’t sure whether the redness on his cheeks were blood or a blush. But his eyes were looking at you like you were a miracle, a shining star, it’s like he had heart for eyes but who can blame him? Who can blame the wild thumping of his heart, that’s hammering against his ribcage like a woodpecker does to a tree? He finally got to see you smile. 

“Do you believe me now?” He said, leaning closer to you, his eyes looking misty, glistening like the ruby on your neck. 

“I do, Katsuki.” You replied, letting your eyes hold his own as you also moved closer to him, cupping his cheek, hand tangling in his surprisingly soft hair. 

He was mesmerised, breath lost at your soft touch. The only physical contact he’s had before was when he was out in the field slaughtering enemies, hurting, grabbing. Not being caressed, because that’s soft and he’s never done soft until he met you. 

You pecked him softly, lovingly. But you soon moved towards his ear, whispering carelessly. 

“You know this could cause war with the forest creatures, right? You broke a centuries long treaty.” 

He growled, giving you a bloodied grin. “Whatever those shitty extras throw at me, I can handle it. They wouldn’t pick a fight with me if they are smart.” 

You squeezed his bicep, marvelling at how hard it was, he’s not infamous for nothing. 

Is that all it takes to win you over? 

You looked down at the chief, or ex-chief. You could still remember her cold, cruel grin as she saddled you up, to make an example out of you. No one questions her rule, no one has the right to, even if she endangers them, even if she takes the land that they always freely enjoyed. 

Yeah, maybe that’s enough, you believed him. Or maybe you’re picking your own poison. 

[a-drop-of-nightshade]

Phoenix rolled his eye at her retort, “I most certainly am not, I just like to live how I can.” He huffed slightly. Hearing her talk he raised his head a little so Cassie could see the extent of the scar across his throat, it looked as if someone had tried to take his head off and failed. He nodded at Izzy’s words, that he had, he had made sure she received the treatment she was worth, he knew what bad care could do and thankfully he had the influence, connections and money to be able to provide her the best care so she didn’t get damaged anymore. He knew first hand the devastation of the necromorphs, being stuck on that infested planet would forever haunt him, he may looks broken, but his mind was just as broken, even if he liked to act like it wasn’t.

The man just let Cassie look him over, he was relaxed against the bed, is hair was down the tie around his wrist, he rubbed at his stubble and raised a brow to her before holding up his hands with a slight shrug, he didn’t mind if she didn’t want to talk or accept his open channel, he could find another way. When she accepted it he nodded at her, “Thank you.” That synthetic voice spoke through the line, he just shifted to sit up against the pillows and waited as she spoke to Izzy, “Rest up, I’ll have some food here for when you wake up.” He spoke to Izzy.

He waited to Izzy to be asleep before he cut the channel with her and turned his attention to Cassie, he watched her defences go up and he looked amused. He let her speak in interrupted before he just smiled and then opened up his display, “That is my name, don’t wear it out.” he replied sarcastically before he organised a few things on his display as he spoke, “I’m happy to help her and well, it isn’t when you know how to make people think twice about telling you no.” He remarked as he sent her a few files, the first was a copy of his ID, an EarthGov authorisation with the highest level of clearance and a lot of his information was labelled as Classified, the next was the entire list of tech added to Izzy and what was done to fix her as well as all the medication she was currently on.

“As you why? That’s quite simple, I see myself in her and I hate that. Because it means she’s been to hell and back, it means she will not hesitate to fight the world and keep on fighting, it means she has been hurt by so many people she lives her own way.” He replied, easing back, “That and I know her grandfather, he’s a stupid fucking cunt and I won’t allow him pleasure, or her the pain, of what he plans for her. I’ve already been through some of his plans, I don’t plan on letting anyone else have the experience.” He sneered slightly, it wasn’t at her, but at the thought of Carter trying to go through with his plan with Izzy, it made his eye glow and burn before he shook his head.

There was a pause as he looked at Izzy then looked to Cassie, “Alice… I saw him once, fucking hell that man had a presence and a half.” He made that strange noise as he chuckled, shaking his head with an amused smile on his lips, he lifted his head and looked at the woman, “Seeing him inspired me enough to survive the first part of what happened to me,” he wasn’t about to go into details, he was not going to disclose that so easily, “I owe him, so I will repay it by helping the ones he loved more than anything.”

@a-drop-of-nightshade

Izzy woke up with a groan. Her head was pounding and her eyes blurry. She remembered getting drug to a party and seeing a bunch of her alters there. She'd gotten into a massive brawl and come out in the top five fighters. She still had bruises and gashes all over her body from that. Tasting blood on her tongue she froze. That was definitely not hers. Did she bite someone while she'd been high on adrenaline and drunk?

Moving to get up she froze as there were a set of arms wrapped around her legs. Flipping the covers off she saw some stranger holding onto her legs and looking just as beat up as she was. Where the hell had he come from? Swallowing hard she tried to carefully untangle herself from his arms so she could sneak away before he woke up.