#a greater cost to her and those around her; but she sure as hell knows what she's doing

[i-do-not-even-know-why]

Some people were talking about Vi's "hypocrisy"...

(Spoilers below. Read at your own risk.)

And nope. Those are lies. Slander. And here are receipts proving the same...

Saw a few folks calling Vi a hypocrite because she prevented Caitlyn from taking the shot at Jinx. Since there was a kid in the way. Even though, APPARENTLY, Vi was all for it during season one when Jayce was concerned.

Jayce didn't want to kill the boy. He was aiming for someone else. The shot hit the little man because Jayce didn't even notice him there. He thought there was no one in the way.

That's why it hurts so much. That's why it stings and breaks Jayce's resolve. That's why he is disillusioned. He just wanted to do magic. Make the world a little better than before. And instead, he is now playing politician and soldier. And claiming lives.

This is Jayce's reaction when he sees the boy who died because of him...

And this is Vi, realising how much it's affecting him...

It's the intent that matters here.

Jayce didn't mean for the blow to land on the boy. If he knew the kid was there, Jayce wouldn't have taken the shot.

Caitlyn on the other hand wanted to shoot at Jinx while knowing Isha was in the way. She wanted to do it despite a kid literally acting as a human shield for Jinx.

I don't care how great of a shot Caitlyn is. When you risk a child's life, even if it is for the greater good, that's already taking it too far. And considering the fact that Vi clocked Caitlyn going in for the kill, you really think Isha wouldn't have?!

Once the bullet is out, no one can control it. Not even Caitlyn. And that very well could have led to Isha's death.

That kid wants Jinx around. And she is willing to die in the process.

Another point to note is the context.

Vi and Jayce were trying to dismantle the distribution of Shimmer. And when Jayce saw what it took, he pulled away. Vi didn't want to.

Silco's death was important to her. But it was now even more imperative because a kid died in the process. His demise would have been in vain if they didn't finish what they set out to do.

Vi and Jayce almost come to blows over it. And once Jayce lets her keep the gauntlets and walks away, there is Vi mourning the needless loss of a life...

I don't really understand what part of all this is hypocritical on Vi's end.

In the first instance, the kid had already died. In the second, Vi was making sure that didn't happen again.

And you know what? Even if it was hypocrisy, people are allowed to alter their motivations and decisions in the face of such fucked up and traumatic experiences.

Or in general, even! That's essentially the whole point. It's the push and pull of everyday occurences which help us evolve. Either for the better, or the worse.

Here's Jayce. Broken over the life he took...

Vi sees it. And of course she wouldn't want for it to happen to someone else. Especially Caitlyn.

Vi knows Cait is not the kind of person who would go through with it in her right mind. And that's the thing. She isn't in her right mind. Grief has overtaken her and now she will make sure it becomes everyone else's problem.

Also, if not being hypocritical is so important to you... How can you still stand with Caitlyn? What she is doing goes against not only who she is as a person, but also what she set out to do.

And that's the kicker, isn't it? Change is the whole point. They are undergoing tremendous amounts of irrevocable damage that will leave lasting impressions.

Caitlyn is so blinded by her desire for revenge that she doesn't even register any remorse. She is adamant on going after Jinx, no matter the cost. Even when it's at her own expense.

And for the people limiting Caitlyn's arc to nothing more than a sexy lady telling the world to go to hell...

Please open your eyes, or at least allow the others, to understand the layers of oppression she represents now. Not only to Zaun and the people of the Undercity, whose only fault was being born in the wrong place at the wrong time, but also for Vi.

That blorbo has gone through so much already. And obviously she has made mistakes. The whole premise of the show revolves around this facet. 'Cause that's what people do.

However, it's how you deal with it that counts more. And maybe it's just me, but holding your favourite characters and people accountable does not really lessen your love for them. Being blind in your devotion will definitely. 'Cause the disillusionment which follows is not pretty.

Know that I don't mean to offend anyone. Nor do I wish to criticize your perspective. If you feel attacked by my points because you made a joke or something over the issues I talked about here, that's not my fault. Nor my intent. Don't take it personally.

At the end of the day, it's just a show. You do you. I just cannot sit back when people spread misinformation or make baseless ignorant comments that are NOWHERE close to the truth.

It just takes a few minutes to fact check yourself. Seconds even, if you know how to do it. Maybe it's my fault for expecting better.

Anywho, that's it on this from me. Enjoy the show! And live and let live!!!

[feudals]

small headcanon post... but since it's canon that Kagome has long, wavy hair (typical of girls from her era in Japan, they LOOOOVED wavy hair/curls in fashion back then), I like to imagine Kagome spends a LOT of time taking care of her hair. it's not as wavy or curly like her mom's, but she's found ways to keep her hair shiny and beautiful even in the feudal era with medicinal salves. she cuts her own hair now as well, and tends to keep it mid-back/lower back in length, with her bangs still cute and semi long. Kagome uses something similar to the shampoo ginger ( a plant that LITERALLY produces "shampoo" that you can use to wash your hair. ) to keep her self and her body clean, and has cultivated a crude version of a soap bar with her knowledge as well.

[thekimspoblog]

As far as the bowling balls thing? Yeah that was incredibly dangerous... which is why I don't buy it when fans say Kim "didn't think Howard would get killed". Like is Kim just an idiot? Maybe, but "We're talking about a career set back" is very much the kind of rationalization Walter White would do. One of the very first things you learn in law school is how easily pranks (or even things with good intent) can result in massive consequences. Hell even that scene where they're throwing beer bottles off the balcony, that could have brained someone and the show would have been over two seasons sooner. I don't think Kim was actively planning to kill Howard obviously, but I do believe she harbored generic "Hate my boss, fantasize about his head exploding" animosity. And again, maybe she even thought ripping the firm away from him would do him a kindness, make the scales fall from his eyes. She already played a small hand in Chuck's suicide, and clearly internalized her blame, so going after Howard was just doubling down.

Rationally, I'm sure when she says "We're talking about a career setback" she means "I'll be super duper careful. I have everything under control. What are the odds he will get hurt?" But subconsciously, she HAD TO have known... "What are the odds? Pretty good actually. But... damn it it's her money, she earned it. Hasn't she waited long enough for success already? She'd use the money so much better than HHM would; she could change the whole state for the better! Not to mention... she never thought she'd want a family but being around Jimmy makes her feel so safe and like herself. A nonprofit serving for the greater good, a shiny new life to mark a new chapter, those things are more important than one man's career/life right? Cost of doing business; it's what he would do to her!"

I think it's really fascinating how what happened to Howard was one of the only times the plan backfired AFTER working as intended. Jimmy's an idiot who keeps insisting he has everything under control when he clearly doesn't, but at least most of his stuff failed because there was some variable he didn't consider and the plan didn't go as intended. With Howard, the scam was already functionally over; the harm that was inflicted was the harm intended. The only problem was that apparently Step 10 of Kim's plan was that afterwards Howard would bounce back, and because of a freak accident that never came to pass. But come on, Kim had to know Howard wasn't ACTUALLY going to bounce back. And even though Lalo appearing was a freak accident, I'm sure on some level seeing Howard drop dead felt like she had wished on a monkey's paw.

It's not that I hate Howard with a burning passion or anything. It's just that compared to other deaths (of brown people) in Breaking Bad, Howard's death felt like a pretty run of the mill tragedy. I knew even in the early seasons that clearly this hate-sink character had a little more depth to him. But even that depth was pretty shallow, and Howard just played the role of the scapegoat too well NOT to be sacrificed to the plot demons. I just have to wonder how it would affect Kim's sense of guilt to know that no matter what she would have done, the arc of the story probably would have bent towards axing him off. And in fact if she didn't do these awful things herself, there's a good chance she would have been in that fridge instead. When I say "Howard deserved it" I really mean "We all knew someone needed to die for the grand finale; it might as well have been him"

Oh yeah, I’m with you on that while no one was expecting Lalo to show up and shoot Howard Kim (and Jimmy) knew that it was more than “just a career setback” and would have a devastating effect not just on Howard’s career, but also his reputation, social life, mental health, etc… But she was able to justify it to herself like you said with “l’ll use the money for a better cause” and “he’d do the same to me” (except I don’t think he would and I’m not sure she’s convinced of it either). But yeah, it’s really interesting that the plan technically DID work! And it would all have “been Ok” had Lalo not shown up

I do wonder how Kim would have grappled with the fallout of the plan, had Howard survived, been disbarred and ostracized, etc…

As far as my Kim v. Chuck headcanon? Well we know there were several years where Kim was working her way up as an associate while Jimmy was still working in the mail room. That means that because the story is largely from Jimmy's perspective, there were probably many interactions between Kim and Chuck we didn't see. We know Kim admired Chuck at one point, but by the time he's hospitalized, when Kim is asked if Chuck behaves "irrationally" she just goes quiet. And sure you can say that's just because his mental health has been declining with the EHS stuff, but I think there was an actual point in the timeline where she lost respect for him.

Knowing Kim, I wouldn't be surprised if there was a case - let's call it "State v. Maxim" - that had some sort of heavy precedent on women's rights. And Kim was heavily skeptical of Chuck's strategy, but he dismissed her misgivings as her being a greenhorn. HHM lost the case and set a bad precedent, but that's not why Kim held a grudge. No. She lost respect for Chuck because she saw Chuck would sooner blame the courts than admit he did a bad job. And it set her early on a track of "I need to be at the same level of authority as these old white dudes or higher if possible" but at the time she still thought she could break that glass ceiling just by working hard.

My only evidence this happened - besides just thinking it adds an interesting fucked up layer to her decision to help Jimmy in Season 3 - is a cryptic line from Season 1 where Rich tells Chuck he "always expected him to be arguing in front of the supreme court one day" and Chuck just goes uncomfortably silent. As if Chuck had the chance once upon a time and blew it.

And of course my other headcanon (although State v. Maxim fits into it) is the Blue Iris theory - that Kim was dealing with a pregnancy scare at some point between "Hit and Run" and "Point and Shoot" and that at least CONTRIBUTED to why she was acting like such a freak instead of telling Jimmy that Lalo was alive. She thought she was going get the settlement money, THEN she would be able to pull him out of the cartel and they would either skip town or just hire a shitload of body guards, and they would live happily ever after using the Sandpiper nest egg to finally put the past behind them. Then Howard got popped and she realized if she just kept getting in deeper, she was going to get both Jimmy and herself killed. She felt like having a normal life with him was a pipe dream and she was stupid for thinking she could have it. Besides, I think she was already kind of a tokophobe, and if she didn't view her bond with her own mother as something monstrous before, she certainly did then! She realized she could NOT allow a child to be brought into this mess.

Ooh I love that headcanon with Chuck! I totally envision something like that happening. Chuck may have been correct in the whole switched address chicanery, but his refusal to back down and admit mistakes definitely seems in character, even in situations where he IS wrong and DID make a mistake

I could definitely see him ignoring a woman’s voice in a case concerning women’s rights, because she’s a newer lawyer and not as experienced professionally

The idea of Kim possibly being pregnant during that whole arc and not telling Jimmy about Lalo being alive still because of that is fun

Departing pretty broadly from the established canon now, but I believe in the week she was dealing with that (it was only stress-related amenorrhea, but given Kim's strong sense of independence the possibility sent her spiraling) one night she stayed up late after Jimmy went to bed and happened to catch a midnight broadcast of Dario Argento's "Suspiria" on the classic movies channel. Something about that movie - the feeling it creates, the lighting, the music - it just infected her dreams. Became permanently entangled with the questions that crazy week left her with: "What if she was being watched by something even more dangerous than the cartel? Something invisible. If Howard's death was so statistically unlikely, why is it her gut knew this would happen all along? And if she and Jimmy really were poison together, what would their child have been like?" She ran to the opposite side of the country, but the song wouldn't leave her alone. The dreams/nightmares of those hauntingly beautiful blue eyes wouldn't leave her alone.

[wylstarion]

Just hear me out, okay?

All l the other tiefllings in the grove have their people. Cal, Lia, and Rolan are their own found family. Bex and Dannis have each other. Alfira and Lakrissa have eachother. Even the tieflling children have Mol as their leader. Almost every refugee we meet in the grove has their person, whether it's family or friend or something else entirely different. But Dammon is alone. Fleeing from the only home he's ever known, exiled from his own city, Dammon has no one.

Did he have a family once?

What was it like for him, growing up in the city that would eventually sink into hell?

He calls himself a bread and butter tinsmith before he worked in the infernal forges. I like to think he had a big family, raised by artificers, surrounded by the fire of the forges since before he could even walk. I like to think he'd been drawn to the fire as naturally as drawing breath. It makes sense, in an odd way. The forge is the only thing that's familiar to him, no matter where he is.

I like to think he's a mama's boy. Perhaps his mother was a talented artificer. I think she would have taught him everything he knows. Dammon literally has artificer magic running through his blood. His family probably fought hard for respect, his mother having to perfect her craft to gain any modecum of recognition in the city due to their hellish heritage. She taught Dammon the value of hard work, of kindness and grace, the beauty of helping others just to be helpful. His father would run their shop, watching over Dammon's younger siblings as his mother trained him in the ways of the artisans. Dammon seems like the type to care deeply for those he loves.

As soon as the city sunk, it was overwhelmed with the fiendish forces fighting Zariel's blood war. They slaughtered the weak mercilessly. Dammon remembers the way his younger siblings screamed, the way his father sook as he shielded their bodies with his own as their store was stormed. Within hours, Dammon and his mother were the only ones left, beaten and bloodied but alive. They were separated, shipped off to their respective posts. They were the only ones they deemed useful. Dammon felt like he was simply drifting along for months when he was conscripted into the forges. His father's voice, begging, pleading for his siblings to be spared still rings in Dammon's head.

His mother surely was more useful to Zariel than he was. She was a genius in her craft, a master of infernal metals and a mind made for engineering. It was her knowledge alone that let Dammon be spared slaughter, traded instead for servitude making weapons to fight to an endless war. Was it truly a fate better than death?

It had to have been her alone that allowed Dammon to escape his servitude when Elturel rose again. She leveraged her own life to ensure his freedom, providing him with an impossible means to escape back to the surface at the cost of her own safety. Dammon feels like a coward, a traitor, for allowing himself to leave her behind. His life for hers. He thinks himself selfish, determined to prove he was worth saving. He needs to know that leaving her behind is going to mean something. It simply must be for some greater cause other than just abandoning her to the hells.

How long was he in Elturel before the tieflings were exiled? Days? Weeks? Did he have to walk around in the ruins of his own home? Did he stare at the blood stains where his family begged for their lives? What was it like to look upon his mother's forge again, the one he himself had trained at his whole life, knowing she was in Avernus still, and he was here, and that he would likely never see her again? Perhaps the exile was a blessing in disguise, Dammon barely able to stand being in the husk of his former home. It was too empty, too silent, too still. The memories of his childhood home were now forever tainted. His city, blighted by the hells.

In the grove, faced with the threat of goblin attacks and exile all over again, all Dammon can do is what he knows. He crafts arrows, and weapons, and armor. He focuses all his energy into his craft, detailed and meticulous even when working out of a forge that's held together with nothing more than a hope and a prayer. He doesn't want to flee, doesn't want to fight, he simply wants to create. He seeks solace from the world in the flames of his forge. He sounds hopeful at the prospect of helping Karlach with her engine. She still smells like Avernus, pungent, metallic and almost sickly sweet, like rotting flowers and dried blood. The scent digs up memories from Dammon's subconscious that he would most definitely order to forget. Dammon can feel the almost magical pull of infernal machinery in her chest every time she's near. She feels familiar to him, almost comforting, despite everything. She gives him a mission, a purpose, distracting his mind from the grim thoughts that plague his subconscious. I think a part of him wants to feel useful, to feel needed in someone's life again. He wants to prove to himself he's worth something, worth someone caring about him. He wants to prove to himself that he's not as bad as he knows he is deep down.

When we see him again at Last Light, almost all the other refugees are distraught. They've just seen their friends murdered, the unluckiest of them dragged off to moonrise for what's surely a fate even worse than death. The ones who made it to last light just barely finding solace from the curse that plagues the land. They've barely survived so far, yet once again we see Dammon steadfast at the forge. The others have barely settled in when he gets straight to work. I have to think it's the only thing that quiets his restless mind. Dammon, faced with horror after horror, returns to exactly what he knows how to do. I think he can't stand to be with his thoughts for too long. Dammon's seen so much loss, known so much hurt, yet he won't let himself rest. I think he's afraid that if he stops working for even a moment, he'll be overcome with memories, with grief, with paralyzing fear, so much so that he may never be able to work again. Fighting back the tides of anxiety, of loss, of anger or bitterness towards his situation, Dammon works himself tirelessly. The heat of the flames and the familiar weight of metal moulded in his hands is the only thing that keeps him grounded. When he's not working the fires, he's studying infernal machinery. He tosses jots down every possible upgrade he thinks of, toying out every idea to try to find some way to stabilize Karlach's engine. He puts so much pressure on himself to come up with a solution, somewhere deep down he's convinced himself that if he can do this for her, he'll prove he's worth more than everyone thinks he is. He can prove himself useful, helpful, worth keeping around. I think he's afraid not only of disappointing people, but of losing everyone. Again.

How long does he work, studying every tome he can find on infernal machinery he can find, recalling every lesson he's ever been taught by his mother, all the painful lessons he learned within the infernal forges, before he realizes there is nothing more he can do for Karlach than give her a little more time? He must feel guilty, a deep heartache knowing he's doomed the one person he's grown to care about to death, or a life of slavery in Avernus. Again. He's angry at himself, angry at Zariel, angry at the world for the cruel joke it must be playing on him.

I think he thinks about it for a long time before he breaks the news to Karlach. He hates to see her disappointed. He leads with her second upgrade, allowing her the joy of touch again before he delivers her death warrant. When their hands intertwine, Dammon feels a stirring in his chest that makes him ache all over. I think he blames himself for Karlach's impending demise, even though he logically knows he shouldn't. It must hurt to care so deeply, only to watch time over again as the people he loves are condemned to their fates, while he gets to continue living. He doesn't think his life is worth more than the one's he's seen lost. How hard it must be for Dammon, who never stops working, never stops trying, to realize there is simply nothing more he can do.

As if called from above, the only thing Dammon can do when he finally gets to the city is find a forge to tend. He must be plagued by guilt. He must miss his own home. Baldur's Gate is so different from Elturel, yet the sounds of the city are so similar. Some mornings he finds himself half awake, dreaming of home. He thinks about his mother's gentle voice, he hears his siblings laughter from another room, the scent of smoking charcoal and melted alloys forever ingrained into his psyche. It's hard to drag himself out of bed on days like that. He finds himself clinging desperately to the lively home he once knew, only to wake up in a foreign city, completely alone. He feels lucky to have a place to work again, and the days are slowly getting easier. He's grown closer with the other Elturel refugees. Dammon manages to find few friends in their odd group, but he doesn't really let himself grow attached to anyone. He can't bare to lose anyone else. He spends him days studying, working, tirelessly crafting and enchanting and perfecting his craft. Drawn to the forges like a moth to flame. The fire he stokes flows through him like lifeblood, who is he, if not a blacksmith?

After the netherbrain attack, Dammon finds himself adrift again. His new forge was destroyed, entirely blocks of the city he now called home leveled from the illithid destruction. He lives in the refugee camp. I think he spends every day toying with whatever he can get his hands on. Rusty swords, broken shields, any scraps of material he can find become projects he obsess over. Dammon is compelled to craft, to forge whatever he can, even when he lacks even the most rudimentary of forges. I think he spends his days studying infernal machinery, fantasizing about joining Karlach and Wyll in Avernus. He knows it's just a fanciful daydream, but he wonders if he could help them. He knows his way around Avernus more well than he would like to, he knows infernal forges, he knows if he can just figure out the right design, find the right materials, he may be able to help Karlach properly fix her engine. He knows it's frivolous, but he daydreams of freeing his mother from her infernal servitude. I like to think after too much downtime, the wait of the cities reconstruction seeming endless, he would eventually join them in Avernus. Overcoming his fears and venturing willingly into the place he was tormented in for so long. I like to think the memories of his capture, of his family would drive him to action. If not now, then when? If not now, then ever? Dammon, for the first time in his life without the fire of a forge to anchor himself to, without a family, or friends, aimless and tired of suffering, would pick up arms, determined to do something to change his fate. Determined to be more than he believed he can be, determined to make his life worth something. Determined to find his greater cause, instead of waiting around for it to find him.

thinking about my Dammon headcanon again and i will simply never know peace

[shotofire]

A Life Saver

•LEVI ACKERMAN x READER

•Overview: Levi saves you, someone he barely knew, from certain death

•Warnings: mentions of death, gore description, cursing, near death experience, bit of angst, very brief mention of sex

•Season: season one range with a few altercations

-

At first, you didn’t want to become a scout. The thought of putting your life on the line wasn’t appealing, and it really just scared the hell out of you. Serving in the military police was a path you chose to go down. It was what you wanted for awhile then things started to not feel right.

The scouts were putting other lives before their own and you began to admire their bravery. Even when things looked like there was no light on the other side they pushed through. They proved that even mass death can result in a small victory that gave the people hope, something to help the nation push forward.

After serving in the military police for many years you decided it was time to step down. You wanted to become a scout, you wanted to help make a change. Your comrades thought you were absolutely insane, and they begged you to not make the choice. You refused, and soon you joined the scouts.

Mission after mission you survived and killed titans. You lost friends way too often, and the hurt and loneliness that came with the job would make anyone break. You’d been broken from the inside out in ways you’d never imagined. At the end of the day, you knew it was for the greater good.

The hope for a change only became greater when a boy showed up with the abilities of a titan. You knew to have such strength on your side was promising, and you saw light at the end of the extremely dark tunnel.

You’d served many long heart wrenching years by the time hope like that had shown up, and it only pushed you to keep going. You longed to live in a world without titans. All you wanted was to run free in field and see new things.

Today was a normal day, but that’s how any bad day starts. You’d woke up early to watch the sunrise with your close, and pretty much last friend, Molly. She was the best person you’d ever met and had been by your side for years. You had never admired anyone more than her.

“You know that titan kid is only fifteen, isn’t that insane?” She says before taking a sip of the coffee you had made her.

Your eyebrows raise at her words, “Wait really?”

The women laughs a bit at your shocked reaction then nods her head. She sets her coffee on the blanket you two are sitting on then leans back onto her hands, staring up at the sky that swirls with colors of orange and pink.

“To have this kind of hope is the best feeling i’ve had in years,” she says, “this is going to unlock so many closed doors we don’t know about. I think that finally we’re going to get some answers about how the hell the world turned into this mess.”

The smile on her face was full of such joy. She truly was excited for the future, you’d never seen someone actually look forward to what is lying ahead. A few days ago everyone thought titans would rein for hundreds of more years. Then all of the sudden that perspective has changed and no one knows what is going to come next.

“Yeah, I hope the future is bright,” you whispered.

You lay down to stare up at the sky, and Molly follows your movements. The two of you lay there in silence, thinking of a peaceful world where so much fear and death does not exist. You turn your head to look at your bestfriend to find her eyes are already on you.

“Our futures are bright, (y/n),” she says with a smile, “We’re going to live in cute little houses by the ocean!”

You can’t help but smile and roll your eyes at her. She always brought up this big body of water she’d read about in an illegal book when she was a teenager. The women could go on an on about it, as if she’d seen it before herself.

“If the ocean is even real,” you say with a smirk.

She scoffs at you before rolling her eyes harder than you just had, “Of course it’s real!”

You two spend the next hour talking about what you’d do or who you’d be doing if life were different. Molly wished for a family, to fall in love. She’d talked about it many times before but she refused to bring children into a world like this. You felt similar, expect children weren’t really on your radar. You longed to fall in love and grow old with someone.

But everyday brought death and destruction. You didn’t want to fall madly in love and then watch your whole world crumble as a titan took them away from you. The pain you had from your friends screaming your name as monsters had them in their grip was already too much to bare.

Heavy footsteps came in your direction at high speed, and soon you could hear heavy breathing along with it. You and Molly sat up quickly and saw one of your comrades running at you with pure fear in their eyes.

“Wall rose has been compromised!” They scream, voice laced with panic.

Molly’s eyes widen right as yours do. The feeling of uncertainty course through your veins almost instantly. You’ll never get used to the way your stomach drops when you hear things like that. Who could ever get used to that? Knowing you’re about to watch more people die would make anyone feel this way.

Before you know it you’re running to get your uniform on and strap on your gear. No one saw this coming. Then again, how the hell would they see this coming? You scramble to find you gear and you panic as it’s no where to be found.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You yell as the panic begins to set in.

Hands grab each of your shoulders to hold you still, and that’s when you see Molly’s worried eyes. She looks at you with concern. The last mission had both of you on edge more than ever before. Both of you lost someone dear, someone who was close to you as you were to each other. Knowing that today you could lose Molly was making your mind and body think like a mad man.

“You gear is with my stuff, remember? You didn’t want to lose it so you asked me to hold onto it,” she reminds you.

The sweet women pulls you into a tight hug, and you can feel her body trembling. The two of you had no time for this, people were probably already being slaughtered. Right as you begin to think this a scream rips through the air, one that makes you two grip one another tighter.

“We’re going to fight and we’re going to survive,” she says sternly, “do you hear me? Don’t you dare die on me (y/n).”

You nod into her chest as tears begin to form in your eyes. So much could change in an instant and you wished time could freeze so you could hug your bestfriend forever. But reality was sinking in and you knew you had titans to kill and lives to save.

The hug was short lived, and soon you were faced with the destruction held within wall rose. Titans stomped around mindlessly, some with those creepy smiles that you absolutely hated.

Your blades cut through nape after nape and your head was starting to spin. Somewhere along the way you lost Molly, which had never happened before. You hated not having her around. The constant fear of not knowing what position she could possibly be in made you sick to your stomach.

You flew through the air at a high speed, trying to get leverage on the abnormal that was chasing after you. It’s mouth hung open as it’s disgusting blood drenched touched dripped into the buildings below. You’d never faced an abnormal and didn’t expect it to dodge your attack minutes ago.

Sure you were extremely skilled but it’s hard to work your way around a fast moving titan. It’s arms flew in the air behind it, the beast was an odd sight. You’d never witnessed a titan act so strangely before.

You’d been observing the monster too closely, but only for a few seconds. But as any soldier knows, a few moments can cost you your entire life. You turned your attention back infront of you but you didn’t have time to react before you slammed into a chimney. Out of all things that could’ve contributed to your death it just had to be a damn chimney.

The impact made your vision blur and you couldn’t even really feel the pain. The sun beamed down on you as your body layed limp on the rooftop. The sky was a beautiful shade of blue, and you wished you could fly up there with the birds and be free.

The abnormals hand picked you off the home as if you were nothing, only a small ant compared to it. It’s eyes were completely lifeless as it stared at you with hunger.

“Don’t you dare die on me (y/n)!”

Molly’s words rang through your mind but you couldn’t move. The injury to your head made you feel as if you were in a dream. There was no sense of reality right now, you couldn’t even comprehend that you were about to reach your end.

In a way you knew, reality wasn’t too far off. But you couldn’t find the energy to fight back. It had all been drained from you as the battle continued, and the final blow left you motionless.

You closed your eyes hoping somehow that’d stop you from feeling the coming pain. Every part of you didn’t want to die. Molly’s dreams about living by the ocean had become yours as well even if you wouldn’t admit it. The thought of leaving her with no body brought tears to your eyes.

That’s when you tried to move with the little energy left in your body, but it was no use. The tears began to stream down your face and the fear began to set in. Fear like this had never been within you, it was a brand new feeling. You guess certain death does that to you.

“No!” You say as loud as you can, “Someone please help me!”

Knowing this is what so many of the people you loved had to experience broke your heart. It was already bad enough to know they were gone and you couldn’t have saved them. But this was so much worse, they died with such fear. Fear that almost paralyzed you.

The sound of blades ripping through skin filled your ears. The titans grip on you loosened, then let go completely. You felt yourself falling, but you kept your eyes closed. Fear had already made its way to every inch of your body and you couldn’t move even more than before.

Right before you slammed to the ground below strong arms caught you. A grunt slipped past the unknown persons lips at the impact of your body. They carried you into a near by tavern that was deserted of people, then set you on one of the tables.

“Hey,” the deep voice said, “c’mon now I know you aren’t dead, don’t go out like this.”

Your eyes fluttered open to see the dangerously handsome man in your face. He was awfully close, you could feel his breath on your nose. His eyes were wide with concern.

“Captain Levi?” You asked followed by a gut wrenching cough. Blood splattered onto your lips and you groaned.

He couldn’t have been the one who saved you, right? You’d only talked to Levi a handful of times, and all were him giving you orders. You’d never had a desire to talk to him even if you found him incredibly attractive.

You’d admired the man for years as well. He has lost as many people as you, maybe more. He had already been on the scouts for many years before you joined. The man had watched the passion you held as you killed titans at alarming speed. He knew exactly who you were and what you had to offer, that’s why he saved you.

He smiled softly at you, not even enough for you to notice. For a second he thought you wouldn’t wake up and he’d be carrying a lifeless body back to medical. You cough a bit more before sitting up. A gasp slips past your lips and pain shoots through your body.

“Holy shit that fucking hurts,” you curse.

You see the fresh blood on your hands and wonder if it’s yours. The pounding in your head only increases as you move. The room felt like it was spinning and you may vomit any second.

“Do I need to take you to medical?” He asks with concern in his voice.

Your vision looks at the raven haired man and your memory starts to come back. One second you were flying through the air and then stupidly slammed into a chimney. And that damned titan was about to feast on you, what a bitch. Then you realized Levi was the one who stopped you from your near death.

“Why did you save me?” You ask without answering him first.

He sighs at your question. He had only moved that fast to save someone a handful of times. It just felt right to save you. He was there, you were there, he couldn’t just let you die. It wasn’t too far out of reach, he had already been headed in your direction.

“Because you’re strong and the scouts need you,” he answers, “now tell me if I need to take you to medical.”

His features were stern and it made your stomach flip a bit. If there weren’t titans outside and pain wasn’t consuming your body you may have thrown out a stupid flirtatious remark due to your bubbly personality. But this wasn’t the time and place no matter how good the captain looked right now.

“I just need a minute,” you said softly as you pushed your weight off the table.

You hissed in pain before stretching your body. The bones in your body crack loudly and you let out a low grunt at the feeling. The pounding in your head began to simmer and you took deep breaths.

“Thank you captain Levi,” you said, “my friend would’ve personally brought me back to just kill me herself.”

He chuckled a bit at your remark and you couldn’t even recall captain Levi smiling let alone chuckling. This whole situation was weird and unrealistic to you. Maybe you were already dead and this was your afterlife. A hot guy saves you and later you two will go to bone town, sounds pretty fun.

“I literally ran into a chimney,” you grumbled.

Levi’s eyes squinted at your words in confusion, “You what?”

“I didn’t get caught by a titan while trying to kill it heroically. I wasn’t paying attention for like three seconds and slammed into a damn chimney, not too sure the scouts really need me,” you say.

He shakes his head at your words and was becoming annoyed by your self doubt.

“I know, I saw,” he says and your cheek almost immediately turn red, “and I still saved you cause I thought you were worth it.”

You couldn’t get words out after what he said. You only stared at him in shock. He saw you make a foul out of yourself but yet still risked his life to save you. Levi truly was an interesting man.

“Well then, thank you again,” you say, “maybe I should thank you in a different way.” You wiggle your eyebrows then let out a laugh into your palm as his face falls at your words.

“Holy shit i’m kidding, please don’t make me do laps for that. Jokes make me feel better,” you still were holding back laughter at the face Levi made. You never thought you’d make the captain flustered like that.

“Uh,” his cheeks redden, “We need to get back out there. It’s starting to get worse, are you sure you’re okay (y/n).”

You take a deep breath before nodding your head. The two of you immediately begin to speed walk towards the open door of the tavern.

“I’m going to need you to follow me. The titans are huddled in the west and help is needed there,” he orders you and you respond with a yes captain, which always makes you cringe.

“Oh and by the way,” he says with a smirk, “that other way of thanking me is always welcome.”

This time he leaves you flustered. He heads west and you stand there for a few seconds before you remember you’re supposed to be following him. His remark might have you slamming into another chimney.

After fighting for hours many people had been successfully moved to wall sina. Some titans still mindlessly walked around within the walls of rose, but atleast many people were saved. There was still a great heartfelt loss that day.

When you got back to base your heart was pounding in your ears. All you could think about was Molly and if she was okay. You hadn’t seen her since you two got separated during the hell bent events. Your eyes scanned frantically through the base, searching for her everywhere.

Your mind went to the worst place possible and you begin to panic. She had to be okay, she was all you had. You needed her more than anyone else. If she’s gone you might as well let a titan eat you during your next mission. Molly kept you alive, and kept you fighting.

“(y/n)?” You hear a familiar deep voice ask.

You spin on your heals and are met with the same deep brown eyes that saved you earlier today. Levi looked upset, face a bit fallen. That’s when your heart sank to your stomach. Did he know where Molly was? Or if she had even made it back?

“Follow me,” he says without any other detail.

He starts walking and you immediately follow as your heart races. At this point you wouldn’t be surprised if he could hear it. Your eyes scan to a sign that says medical as Levi opens the door below it.

You’re led to a the back of the room and you gasp at the sight. On the bed layed Molly with bandages covering many parts of her body. Your eyes fill with tears at the safe shes in, this was too much.

“She’s going to be okay, and the nurse told me she should be up soon,” he says.

You nod your head at his words before reaching to hold Molly’s hand, it was cold as ice.

“Can you please get her a blanket,” you state, it wasn’t even a question. It was more like you weren’t letting go of her hand, more like you couldn’t.

Levi nods and fetches her a couple blankets. He covers her for you and you thank him. The tears still run down your face, but you had already stopped wiping them away. It was no use because they just kept coming harder and harder as you looked at your bestfriend.

“Thank you Levi, I would’ve gone crazy looking for her back there,” you smile through the hurt.

He only hums in response to your words, letting silence fill the air. His hand comes to rest on your shoulder and his fingers move slightly to give you some comfort. It truly was a nice feeling to have someone with you right now, you might think too hard if he wasn’t here.

“I’ll give you some space-“ “no,” You cut him off, “please don’t go.”

Levi sees the hurt in your eyes. He could tell you needed someone right now even if he wasn’t much of a comforting person.

“okay,” he whispers.

He then pulls up a chair next to yours and sits with you for the next few hours in silence. It was somewhat nice, for both of you. Molly begins to stir in her sleep and your perk up. Her eyes flutter open and the first thing she sees is you and she smiles.

“We’ll look at that,” she smiles, “you’re just obsessed with me aren’t you (y/n).”

You laugh through happy tears forming in your eyes. She takes a deep breath and tries to stretch her body but the pain to still too much. She feels your grip on her hand and she squeezes at yours.

“You didn’t think i’d go out that easily did you,” she asks with a smirk on her chapped lips.

“Not for a second,” you said back almost immediately.

She lets out a small laugh at your words. For a second she did think she was going to die as a titan smacked her body mid-air, but that’s all she can remember. It was that, and then she wakes up in medical confused as hell. But seeing you made her know she definitely was okay. Her eyes scan to the figure next to you to see captain Levi. You’d told her before that you’d totally jump his bones if he let you.

“Did you screw the captain while I was out?” she asks playfully.

You and Levi’s breath hitch at her words and she can’t help but let out a laugh. It hurt her chest to laugh that hard but it also in a way made her feel better.

“Really Molly? You were just half dead a few minutes ago and that’s what you wanted to say?” You couldn’t help but laugh along with her. You’d rather her make you and the captain flustered than her be dead.

Levi couldn’t help but smile widely, but he put his head down to hide it. That day you and Levi developed a liking for each other, and both of you couldn’t remember the last time you felt this way.

The lives you each led was going to make it hard, but feelings are strong.

After an hour or so of talking to Molly she fell back asleep for some well needed rest. Levi walked with you down the hall back to your room, making small talk that was hard to even keep going.

“Thank you again Levi,” you look at him with sparkling eyes, “I’m pretty sure anyone else besides Molly would’ve let me be titan desert.”

“Of course, I would never let you be titan desert,” he mumbles the last part. He’d never heard someone refer to themselves as titan desert before, it almost made him laugh.

You stop at your door and look at his with an adoring gaze. He truly was nice looking, and incredibly brave. You wanted to be just like him, you wanted to be even stronger than him one day.

Before you could think you were leaning in to kiss his cheek. His eyes widen and his face heats up. The action rendered him speechess and he watched as your reached for the handle and opened the door before slipping in your room without another word.

He stayed in the hallway for a few seconds staring at where you just stood.

“Shit,” he whispered.

That only sparked his feelings for you further, and he knew this was the beginning of something he’d been avoiding his whole life.

Love.

[ascalonianpicnic]

Hey! Y’all want a salty essay about the bullshit treatment Caithe gets from the fandom at large that compares Rytlock and Caithe’s characters? Cause I wrote one!

Warning: this essay is incredibly bitter and salty, and that bitterness and salt is directed at people who hate Caithe. I swear in it. I’m mean to Rytlock in it. I heavily imply people who hate Caithe are sexist in it. This was written in the middle of the champions releases, but doesn’t focus on s5 or past pof in general.

A morally grey assassin, jaded from a traumatic past who thinks they have to do everything themself to ensure it's done right. They had to kill someone close to them for the greater good, were deeply hurt by a former partner, no longer work with their old crew due to a tragedy they could not prevent and blame themself for. The two people they care about are their brother whom they love and understand despite his quirks and oddities, and their new young mentee who they have mixed feelings about and who they don't want to admit they care for for fear of losing them. They have a blood soaked past and make mistakes, but they're learning and growing thanks to their young mentee and the hard work they're putting in at reflecting on their past actions and accepting they don't have to bear the weight of the world alone.

Y'all would like Caithe if she was a man. She's built on several tropes so commonly seen in male protagonists and mentor figures. Mistakes she's made that people claim are unforgivable are made by other, less apologetic, male characters who are forgiven and still held in high regard. And I know these archetypes are popular among the guild wars 2 fandom, considering the high crossover with dragon age fans, and how many dragon age fans love Zevran the assassin who regularly hides his true feelings and bears so much guilt, and Duncan the former thief who sees little crime in what he views as rightful murders and views death as an acceptable cost to protect some secrets for the safety of the world. The guild wars 2 fandom in general would love Caithe so much more if she wasn't a woman. 

But because she's a woman, killing Wynne, killing a few courtiers during personal story, keeping the secret of the sylvari to protect her people from a massacre at the hands of the other races, and taking the egg to ensure it wouldn't fall into the wrong hands are all seen as unforgivable sins. She's learning and growing every step of the way. She's taken the time to look back on what she's done. She's apologized for not trusting and betraying the commander (who she has a complicated relationship with regardless of race, that person stole her wyld hunt because she was somehow not good enough to kill a dragon alone), she's learned she can rely on others to have her back and doesn't have to do everything alone, she's realized bloodshed isn't always the answer. She's come a long way, learned to let herself trust again, and is working so hard to grow. Yet loads of y'all still hate her for her past mistakes, and some of y'all think it's okay to wish death on her fucking openly with no warning. 

And yet, so many people who hate Caithe and wish death on her, citing her actions during Living World Season 2 and Heart of Thorns as the reason why, will in the same breath mention that Rytlock is one of their favorite characters in the game. As I said, y'all would like Caithe if she was a man. 

Rytlock has made the exact same mistakes as Caithe during the story. Alright maybe not exactly the same, but his mistakes parallel hers very cleanly. He isn't an assassin, but he is a born and raised soldier who has killed countless people in his rise to the rank of Tribune. He didn't steal an egg, but he did jump into the mists and free a clearly powerful and dangerous figure for the sake of getting his sword back. He didn't keep the secret of the sylvari, but he did, in fact, keep the secret of Balthazar. And he had his own mentee who he had a fraught relationship with. Let's take this one by one. 

If you play through the blood legion story on a charr, you probably remember overthrowing the legionnaire of your warband and taking over. In this segment, Rytlock not only encourages you to challenge your Legionnaire, he forces Urvan Steelbane to fight you. Then, at the end of the fight, he gives you the option to kill your superior. Rising through the ranks in charr society is a mixture of proving yourself a reliable soldier and proving yourself superior to your superiors through combat so you can take their place. As a tribune, Rytlock has risen high through the legion, spilling lots of blood and putting those around him at risk. It is noted that prior to his promotion to tribune, Rytlock got in serious trouble more than once for risking missions and endangering his own warband for the sake of his own fame and glory. While not an assassin, much like Caithe he has a very bloody history and a habit of trying to do everything himself  

One of the biggest events held against Caithe is when she steals Aurene's egg from the dying Master of Peace as he tries to give it to the commander. While especially true for the sylvari commander, Caithe has a lot of her own reasons for not trusting this incredibly important egg in the hands of the commander. At the same time, her calling as one of Aurene's guardians, her wyld hunt to protect this egg, and the poundings at her mind of mordremoth are all overwhelming her and leaving her confused. Feeling she has to do everything herself, as she often struggles with, Caithe takes the egg to protect it from falling in the wrong hands. She later admits this was the wrong move that put people around her in grave danger and risked the world and apologizes for it. The way Caithe acts about Aurene's egg is pretty similar to how Rytlock acts towards the sword Sohothin. The first time he sees it, he jeopardizes the mission he and Crecia are on to steal it, putting her in extreme danger and blaming her when she has to act to protect herself. Later on, when he loses the sword through a mists portal during a ritual to try and cleanse the foefire ghosts from Ascalon, he abandons the ritual, ensuring it fails, so he can pursue his sword, leaving the commander and the iron legion imperator to face the danger of Barridin's ghost army alone, much like how Caithe left the commander to face the Shadow of the Dragon while she fled with Aurene's egg. While in the mists, seeking his lost sword, Rytlock frees a very clearly powerful and dangerous figure (who we'll come back to) in order to reclaim Sohothin. Like how Caithe put the world at risk by trying to protect the egg alone, Rytlock puts the world at risk trying to reclaim his sword. 

Let's take a brief moment to talk about Caithe and Rytlock's mentees, before we get on to the biggest similarity the two share. Caithe's mentee, if she has one as it depends on the player, is the sylvari commander. The sylvari commander is a decently young sylvari, who only a few years earlier emerged with a parallel wyld hunt to Caithe herself. Caithe is a loner in general following the pains of Wynne's death, Faolain's abuse, and the breaking of Destiny's Edge. Now she's handed a youth who was created to help her with her Hunt that she was always told she had to do alone, basically saying she is no longer trusted to perform her hunt alone and now she has to train her replacement. She does seem to care for the commander, but the relationship there is always going to start off complicated, and it leads to her betraying the commander, leaving them to fight the Shadow of the Dragon, and taking the egg she doesn't trust them to handle. Later on, once she realizes her mistakes, she reaches out to the commander to apologize, and repeatedly puts her trust very clearly in them, acknowledging that she does need them and she did in the past. How that relationship ends is of course up to the player, but she makes an attempt at reconciliation after the fallout. Rytlock's mentee of note here is Rox. He takes her own as a promising young woman who he thinks would fit well in his warband and takes a hand in helping her train and find her place again in the legions. In order to join the Stone warband, Rox is given the incredibly difficult and definitely not soloable task of killing Scarlet Briar. Rox, when it comes down to it, chooses to put Braham's life and safety over dealing the killing blow to Scarlet herself, trusting the commander, whoever they are, and Kasmeer to get the job done while she stays back with Braham and Marjory. Following the victory over Scarlet, Rox is too afraid to face Rytlock. She didn't kill Scarlet herself, meaning she failed, and she's afraid Rytlock will kill her for it. This is itself a sign of a deeply unhealthy relationship between Rytlock and Rox. On top of that, Rytlock has as of yet never tried to reach out to Rox, to check up on her or apologize or do anything to repair the relationship between the two of them. (A note from replaying s2, Rox does join for the barradin keep mission with Rytlock there, but Rytlock doesn't really check up on her, and he sure as hell doesn't offer her the more than earned position on his warband despite everything.)

The last point is the one I believe I've seen held against Caithe the most. During Living World Season 2, Caithe keeps secret from the commander and from her own brother Trahearne that the Sylvari are purified minions of Mordremoth, leading to Trahearne's attack against the dragon ending in a massacre. Caithe, when she was incredibly young and impressionable, learned the truth from Wynne before having to kill her to keep Faolain from learning the truth as well. She has, for years now, been the only one to know this secret, and she believes that if it were to get out, the world would turn against the still young and fairly defenseless sylvari and slaughter them. As she sees it, she has to bear the burden of this secret alone, as she has to do everything alone. While dealing with her duties tied to Aurene's egg and struggling with the growing voice of Mordremoth as well, she may not even know of Trahearne's plans to fly an army into the jungle. She has every reason to keep this secret still, it's for the good of her own people. Yes it is a mistake, but she didn't know this at the time. She believes, as she keeps this secret, that it is the only way to prevent the sylvari from dying off as they're just coming into the world. She regrets the loss of life, but she can't go back and change it now. 

Now Rytlock also keeps a very important secret, from the commander and everyone else. He refuses to share details of what he saw and did in the mists during his hunt for Sohothin. While in the mists, Rytlock meets an old man in chains. The man, recognizing Sohothin in Rytlock's hands, unlit, says he can reignite the sword if Rytlock frees him. Rytlock accepts the deal and frees the man, returning Sohothin to its original glory and gaining access to a portal out of the mists that the old man makes. Now, Rytlock grew up while the war between humanity and the charr was still growing strong. He spent a lot of his early years in Ascalon, exploring the ruins, likely fighting humans trying to reclaim their land, and definitely fighting the ghosts of humans. That alone should have been enough for him to recognize the human god his enemies worshipped while waging war against him and his people. Beyond that, after Rytlock came into possession of Sohothin, he researched the sword's history. The sword, originally crafted and wielded by Balthazar, is one Rytlock is familiar with. It stands to reason Balthazar himself is at the very least a familiar figure to Rytlock. So when Rytlock encounters a large, powerful figure in the mists who recognizes Sohothin in a state very few have ever seen it in, and has the power to relight the flames that the god Balthazar had originally created, Rytlock has to know who he is talking to. He knows who he freed in exchange for Sohothin's flames. He may say otherwise, but there is no way he doesn't know who he freed in the mists. Even if we give him the benefit of the doubt and say he didn't know who exactly he freed, he still should have told the commander about the man with very powerful fire magic and the ability to make portals who he followed out of the mists. Rytlock caused the tragedy that is Path of Fire and almost caused the end of the world, because he decided to keep the fact that he freed Balthazar a secret from everyone until it was far too late and Elona was already burning. Caithe's secret may have resulted in the failure of the Maguuma campaign and the loss of lives of many soldiers, but Rytlock's secret resulted in the near destruction of an entire civilization and the deaths of countless innocents. 

Yet Caithe is still hated deeply for keeping a secret that she thought was for the good of the world, while Rytlock is quickly forgiven for keeping a secret to protect his pride. Rytlock has made all the same mistakes Caithe has and has arguably handled all of them worse, yet he is still a fandom favorite while she is hated by the community. It's pretty clear that Caithe isn't hated for her actions and mistakes. That's just an excuse. 

You would like her if she was a man. 

[ramblingguy54]

Edalyn Clawthorne: A Loner Created Through Tragedy

     Seeing what happened to Edalyn’s father in Knock Knock Knockin’ on Hooty’s Door greatly explains why she looked so saddened by Lilith talking about hanging around their dad more by Keeping Up A-Fear-Ances conclusion. She harbors a lot of guilt in scratching his face up badly from years ago. After an incident like that for someone around an age that young in their life definitely contributed to Eda’s resolve of keeping herself away from others not just solely because of her own ideals about magic and how to properly use it, but also to prevent more people from getting badly hurt because of the owl curse, too. It’s sad to look back on what Lilith said to her mother, “Mom, I heard you, but I couldn’t stop myself.”, because that’s exactly what Eda went through when she attacked her dad. 

     No matter what her father could’ve said it wouldn’t have reached Edalyn, due to not having much experience with controlling the curse at that time. The amount of guilt running through Edalyn’s mind after coming back to her senses must’ve been unbearable as Hell. It’s already bad enough when hurting random people under a nasty spell, but to injure someone who helped bring you into the world? Anyone would want to put a large gap between themselves after such an awful experience of this magnitude. Season 2 of The Owl House has been doing a lot of great things in its story, such as showing more of Eda’s vulnerability being the point of my post I’d like to delve more into about.

     Eda’s development of opening up emotionally more in Season 1 was certainly good, however we didn’t get a real look into what makes Edalyn who she is as a whole. Season 2 has been allowing more in-depth exploration about why she guards herself as frequently as possible from others. It isn’t a matter of, “I like being a loner, who lives by their own rules about how our world operates.”, rather it centers around, “I’m a bad influence and don’t want to hurt others I care deeply about, or even possibly could grow to, because of my cursed affliction.”. Gwendolyn stating her curse was something that should be cut it out if need be certainly didn’t help in contributing to Eda’s loner nature she develop onward. These moments made her feel ashamed as if she didn’t deserve to be apart something greater like a family, having friends, or finding her own respective lover to boot.

     Eda’s long amount of solitude made her into a more powerfully independent and capable person, magically speaking, but it came at a serious cost of something important, one’s own self-esteem. The curse stunted Eda’s emotional growth for a very long while in having to take up the mantle of being unable to face her fears head on. Even in spite of her lesson to Raine about not running away from your own demons, the saying of practice what you preach rang unfortunately true here. Edalyn has been a very closed off person for so many years, where the idea of having to present yourself to someone else, warts and all, scared this witch away into living in seclusion at her Owl House. Despite gaining a family eventually through Luz & King, Eda never told them about her curse until it happened, wasn’t big on showing affection, and struggled with teaching Luz consistently in a good chunk of Season 1.

     Eda’s biggest challenge to overcome has been actually letting people into her life which costed her a healthy social lifestyle, became distant toward the Clawthorne family tree, and resulted in Raine calling off their romantic relationship. They were tired of Eda’s distant attitude in not being able to commit emotionally with expressing more of her compassion, vulnerability, or love either. This is something problematic Eda’s Requiem did explore too when King wanted to speak with Eda, yet she kept on either changing the subject last second, or made up a convenient excuse to hold off on discussing this matter. Edalyn was afraid of change because she had finally become used to King being around for so long. Knowing Luz would have to leave inevitably hurt already, so now finding out King possibly wanted to go find his actual father and stay there with him instead scared Eda outta her mind in facing a reality without the both of them. 

     Change is a word for Eda that’s a thing she never wants to hear. It’s why she makes the decisions that went on to define her serious solitude. Eda is used to being alone without having to rely on much of anyone else, but that doesn’t mean she obviously has enjoyed it, either. Edalyn only lived in seclusion because she thought it was necessary for safety reasons not outta love for a hermit lifestyle. The tragedy of Eda’s personal background is she allowed this curse to rule over her life for those three decades. Now, to be fair, Gwendolyn contributed to Eda’s baggage with viewing her curse as a disgusting attribute does indeed share the blame here in these events, but regardless Edalyn made unwise decisions she clearly regrets. The biggest ones being not letting anyone, as seen with Raine, get closer to her and avoiding changes to a status quo in Eda’s complicated life. What happened to Eda’s dad was obviously not her fault whatsoever, as it was entirely out of her control. However, Eda’s choice to live in seclusion away from many, make things impossible for a healthy honest relationship work with Raine, and running away from King’s possible separation in Requiem’s story paints a different picture on Eda’s loner nature. 

     Eda may try to carry herself as this loner with a sassy attitude, but it’s all just a facade to mask deeper issues of self-esteem, loneliness, and regrets. I find it so beautiful in how she didn’t want Luz running away from her feelings to Amity because she didn’t want her to make the same mistake, like what happened with Raine. Eda let her fear of commitment get to herself and it caused nothing but a mountain of regrets, so she’s correcting this flawed mindset through helping Luz & Amity’s romance. Like, real talk, the way Owl House has explored LGBTQ+ has been simply excellent in building organic romances with Luz/Amity & Eda/Raine, but still giving important development to their characters in making sure their sexuality isn’t the only defining trait they have. That’s been like a pet peeve of mine when incorporating representation for this community of people. I’m all for seeing this kind of equality in fictional entertainment, but don’t make this the only thing that defines their characterization as a whole and Owl House totally understands this about using LGBTQ+ related content.

     Season 2 of Owl House has been greatly expanding upon Eda’s emotional dilemmas around her curse, which I love as it deepens this character’s motivations on bettering herself. Edalyn has become a super relatable mentor figure in these recent episodes taking time to showcase the complexities of Clawthorne’s family dynamic being shaken by Eda’s curse and how she finally comes to term with it here in Knock Knock Knockin’ on Hooty’s Door. Rather than viewing it as a monster to be afraid of, Eda is viewing this creature as another living thing deserving to be treated as an equal and not a threat thanks to the help of those elixirs she drinks on a daily basis. I thought Knock Knock Knockin’ on Hooty’s Door would be a serious comedic breather, but instead it gave us more insight on this cast of main protagonists. Edalyn’s backstory revelations were such an amazing surprise, as I didn’t think we’d be getting to see her father this soon and what caused a big rift between the two, as well.

Knock Knock Knockin’ on Hooty’s Door exceeded my expectations in more ways than one. Season 2 of The Owl House has been continuing to impress me. 

[silvysartfulness]

Omg I saw that you used to write for the assassin’s creed fandom and honestly what a throwback 😭 are they on livejournal?

Aahhh, this is the part where I have to admit, I don't think I ever put any of those drabbles online! It was more a fun thing me and wife used to do, writing very very short 5 minute one-shots based on single word-prompts.

Oh, wait! Apparently I actually still have them, in an old folder of mine! Will post under a cut. These are AC 1-3-brotherhood, primarily focused on the latter.

La Volpe/Cesare post the fall of the Borgia was my main rarepair ship in that fandom, so that's the main (if occasionally only implied) focus for a lot of these. (CW some dubcon/non-con under the cut, so be warned.) 😊

1 Unwillingness

It goes against everything he is, a greater challenge than any battlefield taken on. Snarling, eyes blazing his defiance, Cesare submits for now.

2 Memento

”Something to remember me by,” murmurs Volpe softly against the sensitive skin of his neck, and it's all Cesare can do not to yelp as those vicious teeth leave a bleeding gash in his ear.

3 Baseline

He still doesn't trust Machiavelli, Volpe muses, and it's equally clear Machiavelli doesn't trust him. Perhaps their shared love of secrecy is the one dependent thing about their relationship.

4 Sniper

He has shot guards from rooftops, towers, horseback, beams and the treacherous crumbling tops of ancient stone pillars. So why was it, muses Ezio afterward, that he hadn't even thought of pulling crossbow or gun out as his sworn enemies held their short council in the courtyard a few measly yards below his feet?

5 Birthplace

It is in Masyaf the order of Assassins was born into what it is now. Searching for answers Ezio sets out on the longest journey of his life, back to the beginning of all.

6 Denunciation

It is hard to remember what it was like to have faith, Cesare thinks, but easy to remember when it was lost. What God could ever work through the instrument that was Alexander VI, his father?

7 Distaste

”Volpe, you didn't!” Ezio exclaims, his face a mask of distaste. Volpe smirks.

”Oh, it was not at all bad. Cesare is well trained.”

Ezio shudders. ”That is exactly what bothers me!”

8 Elimination

Constantly, frustratingly one step behind, it is little Cesare can do as his allies are meticulously taken out by the Assassins one by one. And yet it is not until the last of those on his side willingly turn their backs on him that he realizes this battle is lost.

9 Bluntness

”You can do as I say,” says the master thief matter-of-factly, turning the vial of antidote over in his spindly fingers, ”or you can spend the night dying slowly while vomiting your innards all over the floor. The choice is yours.”

Pale with fury Cesare chooses to live.

10 Turf

The Assassins had been myth, legend, bed-time stories to frighten a young boy already afraid of the dark. But as they dealt an all but deadly blow to his father inside the Vatican itself, Cesare grimly declares war. Roma is his city, and all who oppose his rule must be swiftly and mercilessly dealt with.

11 Assassination

He burns for the ideals, fights the fight with passion and utter devotion. But when Shaun's shaking hands lower the suddenly impossibly heavy gun he knows something he'dnever even thought about (Innocence? Compassion? Humanity?) has perished as surely as that very first body at his feet.

12 Apprentice

He remembers a gangly youth skidding across slippery roof tiles, trying so hard to keep up and even harder to hide his inability to do so. La Volpe silently studies Il Mentore and considers he's no longer sure who would lead the way across the rooftops.

13 Debris

Ezio swears as the ceiling collapses over the bed he shared with Caterina until moments ago – his armor and weapons are buried in the rubble and will be hard to replace. He does not yet know they will be the least of his losses this day.

14 Scolding

Altaïr has never been one to accept blame or criticism for his actions, but something about the way Malik's not-there left arm twitches as to shake a not-there fist in his face as the man speaks makes him look away in hidden shame.

15 Torrent

The rain pours down over the city, making roofs and cobblestones alike wet and slippery. Volpe tugs his collar tighter around his shoulders against the biting cold and idly contemplates if a trip to the Castello would be worth the trouble.

16 Anchor

He cheats and steals and tells honeyed lies with the ease of a snake. But his eyes can be oceans and his touch velvet – sometimes Ezio wonders if his always restless, inspiration-ridden friend keeps Salai around just to remember what it's like to be human.

17 Truce

”It would be nice,” says Machiavelli evenly, ”if you would not so readily name yourself judge, jury and executioner the next time you fall victim to unfounded suspicion.”

”Fine,” mutters Volpe, frowning. ”It would be niceif you were not so secretive. And stop trying to steal my spies. Get your own.”

”Fine,” Machiavelli replies with a minute smirk.

Fellowship is knowing just when your brother-in-arms is lying.

18 Nook

There are many unknown and unseen hiding places among the rooftops of Florence. On his back, hair plastered against his face and hot breath against his ear, Giovanni concludes it's very handy that La Volpe always knows to find one when you need it.

19 Orgy

These parties are more to his father's tastes than his his, Cesare firmly tells himself, perhaps letting his eyes linger thoughtfully on the multitude of courtesans a moment longer than intended. Then a familiar slender hand grazes his thigh and he is reminded that the only person even close to matching his own schemes, cunning and skill is the woman on the throne next to his.

20 Scoff

”I spend all my time in the Animus,” Desmond frowns, ”Lucy's keeping an eye on Abstergo and Rebecca... hacks and stuff. What do youdo, really? Anyone could use, what, Google and Wikipedia?”

Shaun grins or at least bares his teeth.

”You mean Templar Central One and Two? No, it's called obtaining knowledge, Desmond - sifted like little gold nuggets of fact from the vast sands of ignorance you're so fond of burying your head in. Google can't help you there, I'm afraid.”

21 Scolding

At the time, Ezio always figured Giovanni's constant nagging and pleading with him to stay out of trouble was only the worrying of an overprotective father. Only later was he taught discretion was part of the ancient Assassin's creed. He never got very good at it, even so.

22 Bonfire

No-one is entirely sure why Julius II has tempered justice with mercy for now and opted for his enemy's imprisonment rather than death sentence. As far as la Volpe is concerned, the way Cesare goes pale whenever the topic is brought up is at least good for entertainment.

23 Nakedness

Being exposed holds no particular shame for him, but the walls and floor are freezing to the touch, draining precious warmth from his aching body. Now would be a prudent time for an accursed thief to show up with a blanket to bargain for.

24 Arbiter

It was funny, Machiavelli drily noted in his notebook, how God and Divine Justice so often were on the side of the biggest army with the sharpest swords.

25 Purgatory

The land burns, smoke choking the sky and tinting the sun a sickly shade of blood. It is with a cold and unfamiliar sense of foreboding Cesare hurries through the flames toward the towering walls of the fortress to escape this hell on earth – one way or another.

26 Fingernail

Ezio has more than his fair share of scars adorning his hardened body, some remembered more fondly than others. He would never dream to ask Caterina to trim her nails, or use them just a touch more carefully.

27 Slavery

The Creed dictates freedom of thought, and in his reckless youth Altaïr would use it as justification for any rash impulse. But the older he grows, the more he comes to realize freedom and all its crushing responsibility can be the harshest master of all.

28 Carnivore

When confronted on his nasty habit of biting, Volpe only grins and quips something about foxes and their nature. Cesare is tempted to snap he's often seen dirty foxes prowling the back streets for garbage, but can see where Volpe would go with that, and so holds his tongue.

29 Bluntness

Ezio is too flustered after his mother's blunt request he find other outlets than vaginas to realize the enthusiastic young artist at his side seems more than eager to offer a few suggestions on the particular subject.

30 Vow

He will live, Cesare vows. He will live, he will regain his freedom, his power and his army. At any cost. And then they will. All. Pay.

31 Blending

It was simply not fair, thought Machiavelli, that no matter how solid your acting, no matter how meticulousyour disguise, Volpe would immediately spot you in a crowd and grin at you. Clearly spying on the sly old fox called for more cunning means, he conceded as he made his way to the Rosa to shamelessly bribe Claudia for information.

32 Misconduct

“Not that we are in any particular hurry to the Castello,” Orsini says, the knuckles of his war-gauntlet quite pleasantly buried in Cesare's face, “but things would just be easier all around if you would stop squirming and came quietly.”

33 Ultimatum

“If you don't stop hogging my mp3-player,” Rebecca whispers softly in Shaun's ear, “I'll tell Lucy exactly whatyou and Desmond used her yoghurts for last night.”

34 Takeover

“Stop!” Lucrezia commands as the soldiers feed the paintings to the fire – already the image of a swan is crackling and fading to black amongst the flames. Such a waste of beauty. She hasn't even realized Cesare is standing behind her, fierce and bloodied after the battle, until he speaks.

“You like them?”

She nods, and he touches her cheek with a smile, careful not to stain her hair.

“Then they are yours. A memento of the day the Assassini fell.”

35 Afterlife

“I blame you for this,” says Cesare flatly as the imps re-heat the lake of boiling tar. Again. “There is no God, you said. No heaven and no hell, you said. Stupid old bastard.”

Rodrigo mutters something about Hell being other people, but will have to concede that in this trifling matter, yes, he was mistaken.

36 Distaste

He would rather be hated than forgotten, Cesare sullenly thinks, rubbing his stiff hands for warmth. Bony, filthy, with the matted long hair of a hermit falling into his face, he has to settle for the guards' contempt. At least it's better than pity.

37 Slavery

He isn't really paid, Leonardo thinks, merely kept alive, yes. Not really compensated as such. And so the construction of the intricate war-machines is really on the consciences of his masters, not his. Sting of guilt quenched he returns to the blueprints with renewed fevered enthusiasm.

38 Probation

“What's the catch”, asks Cesare with deepest suspicion.

“No catch,” Volpe assures, looking innocent. “Just a reward for your recent good behaviour. Keep it up and there may a meal and a hot bath in it for you, too.”

Cesare does not for a moment believe they are just going out 'to stretch their legs', but a meal does sound inviting. He follows.

39 Adversity

Ezio strongly disapproved of the idea of his little sister taking over the Rosa in Fiore, and he frankly can't say whether he is more disappointed or proud when it flourishes under her care.

40 Bluntness

“You are a thief,” Machiavelli growls, piqued into a rare display of anger. “A liar and a cheat and an honourless thief!”

Volpe grins.

“All those things. And I'm still better than you.”

41 Scheming

Ezio gave the Apple to Mario, who had it stolen by Cesare, who gave it to Leonardo, who found it plucked out of his helpless hands by the Pope and his daughter. He ponders life was easier when he was just a painter. The Apple is a thing of awe, but the intrigues in its wake make his head hurt.

42 Favorite

It wasn't that Cesare particularly hated his older brother. It was just that while he no longer childishly sought his father's approval, the position as the Pope's favorite son came with several practical perks. Unfortunately for Juan, that meant he simply had to go.

43 Truce

When things are civilized, they can be bearable, almost even pleasant. The food is good, the wine plentiful, and Volpe's skilled fingers all but gentle. An unspoken truce, no matter how temporary. But neither man ever forgets the truth, which is war.

44 Scour

They answer to no-one, self-proclaimed executioners beyond all law. Too much blood on their hands now. Just before sunrise Cesare gives the command to attack. The cleansing of Monteriggioni has begun.

45 Extrovert

To hold his own council and play his cards close to his heart has always been his way, and he knowshe is a master at his game. And yet, Machiavelli can grudgingly admit to himself, it isn't until the boisterous chaos in human guise that is Ezio bursts in on the Roman scene that he begins to see how they will win this war.

46 Protagonist

“I will avenge the cowardly, treacherous plot against my father,” he thinks. “I will root out all those involved, every single one, and I will kill them and all they stand for.”

No-one ever sets out to be a hero, only to do what is right.

For Cesare, the path ahead is clear.

47 Willpower

It is never easy. Every time Altaïr visits his (his!) bureau in Jerusalem, Malik has to struggle with himself not to slay the man in his sleep. On many a moonlit night, only a lifetime of discipline stays the blade in his white-knuckled hand.

But strangely, it does get easier over time.

48 Esacalation

At first it had been mere proof of his ability to go anywhere in Roma as well he pleased, the taunting and impotent rage in response a given bonus. After some time, forced still-furious intimacy gained through blackmail had appeared a logical step. Then force turned out redundant. As Cesare clings to him, nails biting into his arms and teeth bared with need, Volpe admits to himself he would never have suspected the caged Borgia would so willingly use him to sate his desires – nor the other way around.

49 Torrent

Raw grief fades over time, a broken heart healed into a dull ache. The thing that keeps Claudia from sleeping at night is not all she has lost, but her screaming frustration at not being able to take her fate, and that of those responsible, into her own hands.

50 Danger

The peaceful life he had envisioned just the evening before will have to wait, Ezio grimly decides, pressing a hand to his wounded shoulder and focusing on not falling off his horse. And despite the shock, grief and pain, it somehow feels right. He has lived this life so long, he isn't sure he remembers how not to.

51 Splattering

Leonardo likes to buy birds at the market and set them free, watching with dreaming eyes as they take to the endless sky. Once, Ezio surprises his friend with twenty white doves. Much belatedly he wishes he'd remembered that stressed pigeons prefer to lighten their load before taking off.

52 Ramification

“It is time you take responsibility for your actions,” Rodrigo snarls, and Cesare struggles with the impulse to scream, childishly, “But father, younever did!”

53 Concession

“I'm not sure we should...”

Lover and Thief, silhouettes in the dark, alone. A light touch.

“Come now. It will be good, I promise.”

“But, what if...”

“Ssh. Are we not both Assassins? Everything is permitted.”

His honed thief's nerves tingling with foreboding warnings, La Volpe allows Claudia to persuade him in the end, knowing Ezio will probably kill him, and that it will no doubt be worth it.

54 Leer

You can't even seehis face in the shadows beneath the cowl. And yet, Volpe just standing there outside the bars, nonchalantly leaning one hand against the wall, makes Cesare want to scream. Or punch him hard. Preferably both.

55 Whisper

Ezio reflects that there are few other voices he would instantly recognize by just a short, urgent uttering of his name. His hesitation to turn around stems not from uncertainty, but the childish wish to postpone the trial of his oldest friend's rumored treason just a few moments longer.

56 Absurdity

At first Ezio had felt confused, then worried and finally terrified. But as they've fled Florence and the man introducing himself as uncle Mario tells him that his family belongs to an ancient clan of legendary assassins, relief washes over him. Finally is clear it has all been an insane dream. He can't wait to wake up.

57 Experimentation

Leonardo da Vinci is a true genius, his brilliant mind always seeing the world through a lens of wonder. Nothing escapes his never-sated curiosity – but that a small poseable wooden mannequin could be used like that? Cesare is a man not easily impressed, but will have to admit the artist rarely fails to amaze.

58 Farewell

It is with uncharacteristic kindness Volpe kisses him, between shared gasps for air after their final tryst. A last goodbye before the approaching dawn will see Cesare on his way to exile in Spain.

”Growing sentimental, old fox?” the younger man scoffs at him. ”No need. I shall return soon enough, and repaint the walls of Roma with Assassin blood.”

Volpe just smiles. He has already helped Ezio prepare his own journey and knows with certainty that Cesare will never again return to Rome.

59 Turf

”Maybe Giovanni could get away with doing paperwork all day over in Florence,” Mario says, and his tone clearly states what he thinks about his brother's choice. ”But arround here we train Assassins, not accountants or delivery boys.”

Ezio's body has never ached as much in his life as it does after his first day of training with his uncle.

60 Smoothness

When she smiles her deep red lips are like tantalizing rose petals, framed by sun-ray golden hair. She is smooth, flawless, perfect. But every rose has its thorns, and Lucrezia's are laden with poison.

61 Kneeling

Every fiber of Ezio's body strains desperately to regain control as he jerks like a puppet on golden strings of light.

”You are lucky,” breathes Rodrigo in a low, husky growls, leaning hard on the staff after the battle, ”So verylucky, little Assassin, that I am in a hurry.”

As the dagger sinks into his guts, Ezio briefly thinks that indeed, it could have been so much worse.

62 Purgatory

The imps don't know whether to feel amused or put out that the screaming, flailing argument between father and son has by now escalated to the point they don't even seem to register the lake of boiling tar anymore. A bit of respect for good solid workmanship, is that too much to ask?

63 Lick

It has to be said in favour of Machiavelli's assassin reflexes that the unexpected lick at his ear out of the dark earns Volpe neither a jump or a shriek but a rapid fist to the nose.

Only half an hour later, safely home in his bedroom, does Niccolo allow himself to contemplate what might have otherwise transpired.

64 Bonfire

It is a sad thing, reflects Ezio in hindsight, older, wiser, that compared to all the priceless art and knowledge fed to fire during Savonarola's mad reign of Florence, the mere loss of a human life that ended it is remembered with little sense of loss or revulsion.

65 Last

After Mario's death, Ezio has felt the weight of being the last Auditore Assassin ever heavier on his shoulders. But as he watches Claudia fearlessly take her leap of faith, he wonders how he could ever have been blind enough to think himself alone.

66 Well

The guards in hot pursuit yell and stab at wells, haystacks and dark alleyways. From his perch on a rooftop Ezio smiles. He always did prefer to take to the sky.

67 Wrongdoer

As his support falters and the opposition grows ever bolder, Cesare becomes increasingly frustrated with their attacks and accusations. He would prefer to answer only for his own sins, not those of his dead father.

68 Deliberate

It really is getting unnerving, decides Machiavelli, the way Volpe has taken up the habit of commenting on his every observation with a frosty ”Indeed” or ”Yes, quitethe coincidence”. He wishes he could believe the man isn't doing it on purpose.

69 Counter

When he first arrives in Jerusalem, Altaïr can't quite shake the feeling that the only thing between him and certain death is a rather narrow, map-strewn desk.

70 Bribe

Cesare has always been good at striking a profitable bargain. Unfortunately Borgia as a currency is bitterly deflated, and these days he often have to sell himself too cheap for comfort. Even though it isa warm, snug blanket.

71 Chess

Cesare knows he is a brilliant strategist – not so much because of the expected praise from his subordinates as from the satisfactory number of pins currently adorning his map of Italy. He would like to believe himself modest in this, careful not allow hubris to cheat him of a victory. And yet he never knows whether to frown or laugh helplessly as the absent-minded artist all but appologetically check-mates his king time and time and time again.

72 Feel

Leonardo never knows how to feel when Cesare enters the room. At first he is apprehensive, but as weeks turn into months and he realizes he's not only allowed but encouraged to dream up grander designs than ever before he is thrilled.

In the end, seeing the Assassins' plans put into motion long before Cesare even knows the final battle has begun, he can only avert his eyes in regret.

73 Mister

”Outside the kingdom of God is the realm of men,” Salai says, leaning just an inch too close. ”You worship there, Messere?”

Only years of training his clueless look on Leonardo helps Ezio keep a straight face as he blankly waves for the boy to follow him.

74 Fine

There are simply too many guards around for a discreet kill, so Ezio grudlingly counts the florins and hands them over. How was heto know he wasn't allowed to park his horse there? Time to liberate another stable from its Borgia-tower shadow, he decides. Burning them all down is easier than keeping track of territories anyway.

75 Dog

If La Volpe is the fox and Ezio the bird of prey, Pantasilea ponders, then Bartolomeo reminds her of a large, lumbering dog. Faithful and loyal unto death, but with a booming bark and a vicious bite for those who threaten those dear to him.

76 Forgotten

When Volpe appears he is the first person Cesare has seen in days. He greets the thief with his usual brazen curses, careful not to let any trace of relief shine through. Of all things he is most afraid to be left alone to die; not slain out of hatred or need, but simply ignored and forgotten.

77 Changed

Had Ezio been the kind of man to think upon such things, he might have noticed the Cesare facing him atop the towering walls is not the self-assured young general he met a handful years previous in Roma. Tired-looking and hunched over he looks defeated even before the battle has begun. But Ezio is here for one single purpose alone, and has never been the kind of man to think of such things anyway.

78 Gondola

Antonio assures Leonardo that only from an extensive tour with his private gondola will the artist truly get to know his new home town. As it happens, a rocky two-hour boat ride later, Leonardo still hasn't really seen much of the city. But that's quite alright, as he happily agrees to repeat the endeavour soon again.

79 Casino

It never hurts to try to win Fortuna's favour when gambling is one of your favorite pastimes, Salai knows, but in this particular case divine intervention is quite a bit closer at hand. As long as you have La Volpe's favor, the dice at the Sleeping Fox will never let you down.

80 Soup

The first bowl of watery gruel ends up thrown in the guard's face with enough force to break his nose. The next morning the second splinters against the wall. Nearly a week passes before he forces himself to eat the fifth, to preserve his strength.

Cesare closes his eyes as he quickly raises the bowl to his face to wolf down the hundredth, before the reflection in the dull surface can show him what he has become.

81 Carrot

”Tell you what,” murmurs Volpe in the starving prisoner's ear, dangling the vegetable in front of his face, ”If you give me a good enough show I'll even let you keep it for supper when you're done.”

82 Madame

Volpe has to admit himself impressed – Claudia is shrewd, ruthless and horrifyingly practical, and stillmanages to be praised a good businesswoman rather than cursed a thief.

83 Kilt

Yes, Ezio decides as he flexes his body inside the unfamiliar weight of Romulus' armour, there is definitely a draft around his nether regions. Whatever the old Romans may have thought, a skirt of leather belts does notconstitute proper clothing.

After some swearing and creative arranging of his spare cloak he considers it may well look even moreof a skirt, but at least this cut preserves his manly dignity when he jumps.

84 Theft

He has stolen valuables, information, people and lives. La Volpe draws in a deep breath as he surveys Roma in the first light of morning, then exhales in satisfaction. She is the greatest city in the world, and she is all his for the taking.

[fishyspots]

i have a lot of feelings about David in skirts so if you’re still taking prompts: the first time david feels confident enough to wear a skirt on date night with Patrick

[read on AO3]

“We’ve been doing this for a while now,” Patrick says. “And I want to celebrate.”

It’s surprising because it’s not surprising. They have been doing this for a while. They still haven’t put a name to it, this thing they’re doing, but it’s been three entire months and Patrick hasn’t shown any signs of wanting to stop being his...Patrick. And David’s been looking.

“You want to celebrate.” David does all he can to keep the want out of his voice. “It’s not even one of those monthly things, because you just gave me that chocolate last week.”

“Aw, you did want me to wine and dine you a little bit for our anniversary.”

David fiddles with the ripped denim around his thigh. It’s not what he wanted to wear today. He’d considered an asymmetrical McQueen skirt and then wrinkled his nose and set it down carefully, going for these jeans instead. They’re an old standby, and he knows Patrick likes the way he looks in them.

But it’s not—that. That’s not why he chose them.

Even though he’s not wearing them for Patrick, his...Patrick still proved him right within seconds when he walked into the store this morning, all wandering hands and red-tinged cheeks when Twyla popped in for some more of that peanut brittle they’re trying out and caught them having a decidedly PG-13 moment.

“I have to go home and change first,” David’s mouth says before his brain can put up a decent fight.

“You’re right.” Patrick nods. David can sense that teasing is coming, and he smiles in anticipation. What is happening to him. “You did carry in all those cases of juice and body milk earlier. And you moved that table all by yourself because I was definitely the one who said I was potentially getting a blister maybe. Oh, wait.”

David grabs Patrick’s wrist before he can dramatically point at himself. “I did other things,” he protests. “My things were less likely to make me all smelly, but still.”

“Are you saying I’m all smelly?”

“I didn’t want you to find out this way,” David says airily.

“Fine. An hour after we close?”

David nods and starts mentally sorting through his sweaters.

After David sweeps up (“David, if you’re about to change, you can get a little dusty.” “First of all, you’re about to change, too.”) and Patrick counts down the till, when he’s back at the motel, David smooths a hand down the black pleats. It’s soft, light. He thinks the skirt might say what he wants to communicate—question and declaration all rolled into one.

Because if—when, god, he’s not a person that can say if about this—when this ends, he knows he’s going to spend too long working through all of their interactions backward.

It’s happened before. He ran up a phone bill that was impressive even for his pre-Creek self texting Alexis internationally about Sebastien, the plot intricacies of Bridget Jones, where the line between an open relationship and cheating is, and, fine, a definitive ranking of all flavored Auntie Anne’s pretzels and their respective dipping sauces that one time.

But if—when, when this ends. He doesn’t think it’ll be about this. And if it is, then. Maybe it’s...good? To know. Because unlike his reticence about open relationships and categorical inability to keep his mouth shut, he would rather know about this. If it’s a hesitation. If Patrick has a hesitation about this.

He slides the fabric over his hips and smooths down the front of his sweater. Patrick will be here any minute.

David slides into the booth after a surprisingly long drive. Patrick’s been exceptionally tight-lipped about where they’re going and what the menu is like and whether the dessert is any good, and David’s trying to toe the line between endearingly interested and nitpicky. It’s a fine line.

Patrick pushes at David’s shoulder. “Scoot.”

David does; it only occurs to him to question the request once Patrick’s side is pressed into his own. “What are you—hi.”

“Hi. Come here often?” Patrick slides a hand up David’s back and presses at one of the many persistent knots at the base of his neck. Thriving professionally does not come without its costs.

“First time, actually.” David’s surprised there’s a half-decent restaurant in the greater Elms that he hasn’t tried. He hopes it’s half-decent, at least. “Where did you find this place?”

“Marie, the woman who does those wines, said she’s letting them carry her product here.” Patrick’s hand is a brand tracing down his spine and around to—his skirt. “And I know you trust her taste.”

“She actually uses the toner we sell. Of course I trust her taste.”

“A convincing argument.” Patrick taps at David’s kneecap, then lets his hand rest against it. The touch is both soothing and electric. David isn’t really sure what to do with it.

“Haven’t seen these in a while,” Patrick says. 

“A while?” David leans back to catch Patrick’s eye. “When have you ever seen my knees?”

At Patrick’s slow once-over, starting at his knees and following the lines of his body as they curve and bend up his chest to his neck and then to meet his eyes again, David swallows and amends his question. “When have you ever seen my knees in mixed company?”

“Less often than I’d like,” Patrick says. “You look—”

Different, David fills in. Unexpected. Funky, if he’s misjudged Patrick fundamentally as a person. It’s happened before.

Patrick dips his forehead into David’s neck and burrows in. He does this sometimes, pushing like he would burrow inside David if he could. He mumbles something into David’s skin.

“What’s that?” David asks. Context clues are favorable, but he’s the first to admit that he’s not especially good at reading people. Okay, maybe he’s the second. Alexis jumps at the chance to point out his flaws usually.

“It’s—if I say lovely, are you going to roll your eyes at me?” Patrick actually seems worried that his word choice will do anything but make David melt, which—how?

“That’s…” David blinks. Hard, really hard, like there’s something like a branch or one of those twig pencils in his eye. “I’m not rolling my eyes.”

“You’re not,” Patrick muses. He runs a thumb over David’s eyebrow, which is so unsettlingly intimate in its total innocence and the matter-of-fact way Patrick moves to do it. He makes it look so easy.

“Hi,” their server pops up and prevents them from doing anything else that they really need privacy for. And David’s got more than a few ideas. “Just here to light your candle and take your drink orders.”

David asks for a water and tilts his head as the server holds up a lighter to the already blackened wick. “Really a lot to not even trim the wick,” he says after the server is out of earshot.

“I’ll trim your wick,” Patrick says. Then he winces. “That’s—”

“How would that even—”

“I didn’t think it through,” Patrick acknowledges. He nudges the tiny red tealight holder closer to David.

The wick is smoking and sputtering, and David doesn’t want to smell like a campfire so he pushes it back.

“Hey,” Patrick protests. “I want—it’s dark in here. And I like to see you.” His hand drifts down again and fiddles with the hem of David’s skirt.

David crosses one knee over the other and hides a smile behind his menu. He won’t be able to twist or push or slip this one out of sight. “Fine,” David says. “But like hell will I let you trim my wick.”

[chrichri-chan-18-love]

Omegas don’t bow (Yandere Alpha Katsuki Bakugou x Female Omega Reader x Yandere Alpha Izuku Midoriya) Part 15

After that incident in the pool, both boys actually went through with their plan to dispose of those that were involved in the matter, now they were keeping an eye out for anyone that so much as happened to be in the same room at you. Even if they didn’t look at you, talk or approach you, they were suspicious. 

You had made too many enemies and they planned to protect you from them, no matter the cost. At the same time, they began trying to make you understand that keeping your distance was anything but a good idea.  

Today, a couple of students stole your uniform after gym class, your bag, money and threw them in the trash after also placing dead insencts on your desk and chair. 

You were about to give them a good beating when Katsuki carried you to the nurses office and along with Izuku deciced to try again and get you to understand a few things.

“Let’s suppose that they catch you during your heat, what happens then, huh?!”

Katsuki had been telling you over and over that using your quirk wasn’t always the best idea. Which was suprising since he never hesitated to use his on people, items... yeah, it was totally weird hearing him say that.

“You both were there when I was in heat, you saw that even in that condition I can defend myself just fine.” You said but that brought back the memory of the handjob you gave them as well... and that made you growl annoyed at the reminder.

“(Name).... I’m sorry... we’re your friends... so we worry about you.” Izuku said softly, eyes already filled with tears. You patted his head and smiled gently at him.

“I know but you guys need to trust me on this. I can keep myself safe from those idiots. They can’t and won’t get the best of me.”

Katsuki huffed, not showing his jealousy over the way you treated Deku. And he didn’t get as much as a thank you for carrying you over to the nurse’s office. 

You noticed his sour mood and well, after all that had happened you could guess why he was pouting like a four year old. You chuckled, your free hand now ruffling his spikey locks playfully, causing him to look at you shocked.

“What the hell are you-”

“Thanks Katsuki, hopefully I wasn’t too heavy for you.” You said playfully, causing him to smirk, feeling giddy all of a sudden.

“Who the hell do you think you’re talking to? You were barely lighter than dust, I could carry twenty more of you.” He bragged and you chuckled, before retreating your hands from their heads, much to their dissapointment.

“Anyway, since you’re both finally over your shock. How about eating something at my place? My mother said she wanted to cook something nice for you. Apparentely she thinks that unless the two of you are around, I’ll get kicked out of this school.”

The two looked at one another and they decided that your mother was right, given that they were two of the problem children in Class 1-A hero course and you were the tyranical Omega queen of general studies...yeah, your mother definetely knew something was up.

“Sure thing. She’s an excellent cook too.” Izuku said and Katsuki nodded. Eventually one of them would be your mother’s son in law, so keeping up good impressions was necessary.

“Okay, now if you’ll excuse me. I need to get to class and exact some well deserved catharsis.” You said, your tone turning icy as you spoke that sentence, making both Alpha’s shiver. Yeah, it was clear that your Omega status was either a cruel joke to all Alpha’s and Beta’s or a blessing for those that shared the same status with you. 

To them however... you were the sexiest, sweetest Omega they had ever met. Katsuki loved your character so much, he didn’t get to dominate you, it seemed impossible to get you to yield. Izuku on the other hand never even thought about dominating you... he didn’t really think of himself as someone that could it anyway. No, he simply wanted to be your equal in courage, strength and determination.

Both males stared as you left the room, walking to your classroom and well... a few minutes later the teachers were already running towards your classroom as well. The two smiled and returned to their own class, waiting patiently for the news of what you came up with this time to humiliate your bullies again.

Apparently you began with the making them leave a copy of themselves to the nearest wall, then you summoned a bunch of monkeys and had them torment those idiots. The teachers were about to give you detention until you revealed what had occured previously which turned the tables and your bullies got in some serious trouble. 

“She never stops being awesome.” Izuku said and Uraraka chuckled. Everyone in the hero course knew of you and some even suggesting opening a seat just so that you could enter, heck the teachers and headmaster were also thinking about it.

“It’d be cool to have her here.” Kaminari said and Bakugou scoffed.

“She’d never accept the position. She claims it’s too much of a pain to enter the hero course.” He said and Kirishima seemed surprised that Katsuki wasn’t degrading you or something.

“You sure man?”

“Why the hell do you think she refused to participate in the sport’s festival? Even if she’s an Omega, she would have beaten the living hell out of anyone.” He said and Kaminari smirked.

“Oh? You too then?”

Katsuki glared at him but his voice was awfully calm when he spoke, his words being the most surprising of all.

“She’s already given me a beating before, I challenged her. I know first hand, that her power is far greater than what she shows. I’ve also fought next to her, loser Deku was there too.”

The entire class was left staring, wondering if the man that spoke now was indeed Katsuki Bakugouor someone pretending to be him.

“I have seen it too, she could have gotten here easily if she wanted to.” Izuku said and the entire class was left speechless, seeing as this two agreed on something for seemingly the first time in forever.

Things went by without any more surprises and when school ended, you, Izuku and Katsuki went to your home where you suprised them both by cooking along with your mother... the sight of you in an apron, only urged them to fight harder for you. And they also decided that the people that tried to humiliate you today would also suffer a fate worse than death once both Alpha’s left your home tonight.

An eye for an eye, death for those that dare to forget who they’re trying to fight.

[onelastbreath-writes]

I’ll Meet You There (Part 1)

Pairing: Marcus Moreno/ Wife!Reader (AFAB, no y/n)

Word Count: 2.5K

Warnings: Mentions child loss, loss of a spouse, survivor’s guilt, vague references to suicide/suicidal thoughts after loss of child (all located in the first 500 words, so it’s brief and not too dark, but please take care) and violence, swearing, and action/fighting.

Summary: What if Marcus’s wife didn’t actually die? What if she and a few others were kidnapped during an attack on Heroics’ HQ, and then held captive for years without realizing? If the only thing you “remember” from your past is that your husband and daughter were killed, well, you surely wouldn’t want to go back to the people who you believe did it. But maybe, with the help of a tenacious child and some re-awaking parental instincts, you’ll be able to break through the brainwashing and forced amnesia, and find your way home.

Tags: Hurt/No comfort (for now), ANGST, eventual happy ending, one really sad man for whom I just keep making things worse, #sorrynotsorry

A/N: This is my first We Can Be Heroes fic, and first reader fic, so please be gentle. I’ve got the rest of the story outlined, so I hope I can get down to writing and posting it soonish, but my RL is busy and doesn’t leave much time/energy for quick updates. If you like it and want me to do a taglist, let me know so you can know when I update again. Also a big thank you to the amazing Jay @disgruntledspacedad​ and her fic The Right Thing for inspiring this one, and for allowing me to use her wife!reader idea. Please go check her blog out, and give her some love <3

AO3 Masterlist

---

“You’ve been in a terrible accident, Doctor, and I regret to inform you of your husband’s and daughter’s passing. Our rescue and recovery efforts after the incident were unfortunately unsuccessful, and you have our deepest sympathies.”

It took months for those words to even sink into you; months before you even remembered anything about who you were... the accident, or the attack, as it was more commonly known by you and the other victims, took your entire life away in an instant. You survived, physically, but at the cost of your partner? Your child? All the memories of your life together? How could you be worth it?

“Your transcripts and accomplishments are phenomenal, Doctor, and I’m in need of talented and capable individuals such as yourself to help right the wrongs, and demand justice, from those who have committed such heinous acts against us. The Heroics are murderers, destroyers of peace, and they have gotten away with their crimes for far too long. They’ve been praised and applauded and worshipped as gods while all they truly are, are terrorists. How many more innocent lives can we allow to be lost to their carelessness? ‘For the greater good’ is quite the insult when the people saying such things aren’t the ones losing their families to the chaos, wouldn’t you agree? Join me, Doctor, and we can make a difference.”

It was easy decision for you, even in the early days of your recovery. From the distant and foggy memories of your past, your anguish in what you could recall, you knew that if you could stop someone else from having to feel the loss and pain that comes from losing their spouse and children, you would do so in a heartbeat.

Your husband had been an incredible man, your Everything, you would imagine, going by the ache in your heart when you thought of being without him. His name, his appearance; that was all lost to you when you lost him. His existence in what could be healed of your memories was just a shadow, a shade, the vague impression of the man you loved. You remembered his warmth, his kindness and gentleness, his love and devotion to you and the child you created together.

And your beautiful baby girl... if thoughts of your husband left your heart aching, then thoughts of your daughter left you in unparalleled agony, completely inconsolable. You tried to avoid thinking of her, if you were being honest, tried to leave all what-ifs and could’ve/should’ve/would‘ve’s behind... you had worked with people, mothers, who had lost children before, had seen them tear themselves apart in their grief, taking the blame for something that was in no way their fault; you had seen them destroy their lives with their hoarded guilt and perceived crimes... you couldn’t allow yourself to fall for that, those falsehoods, you had to be alive if you wanted to honour your child and husband’s sacrifice.  

“We will make them pay for what they’ve done to us, Doctor, I promise you that. Together, we can get justice for your husband, for your little Missy.”

---

Marcus knew something was wrong as soon as his commlink started transmitting static instead of his teammates’ conversations. The Heroics had been deployed to stop a hoard of rogue security androids that were infected by a virus or something (he couldn’t usually follow the technobabble), which had led them to escape their testing facility and target nearby civilians with their advanced weapons technology.

Evacuating the citizens trapped in the line of fire was the team’s first objective, and once the area was cleared of potential victims, they moved onto the containment and neutralization of the enemy combatants. The Heroics team was decently cohesive; they could work together to ensure the protection of innocent lives while in a firefight, but once the civilians were in the clear and the stakes not so high, the supersized egos of the members emerged with a fiery passion. This particular firefight was no different.

“Hey ‘Legend, bet you a week of incident reports that my count is higher!” Miracle Guy’s voice broke out over the ‘link, as eager to show-boat as ever, from where he was steadily piling up his deactivated attackers.

“I’ll take that action, Miracle, easy. It’ll be like taking candy from a baby!” Crimson Legend wasn’t the type of person who could ignore a bet, especially one issued from Miracle.  “You’re probably so behind already that you don’t even stand a chance, ha!”

Of course, they just had to make it a game, keep the superiority contest going; like a single mistake couldn’t cost them a life or a limb. And just to further prove how amazingly mature the rest of Marcus’s team of Adult Superheroes were, they all started in on the bet too.  

“If I beat your totals, I want a week off from training!”

“Ha! Like any of you have a chance of winning against me! I want my on-call weekend, off”

“If I win, you’re all my personal slaves for the rest of the day!”

Did Marcus say Adult Superheroes? He meant infants.  

And they had started the mission so well, communicating and strategizing, actual teamwork instead of bickering and joking around like children. Hell, even their children didn’t get into as much trouble as their parents could.  

“Guys, it’s really not the best time to be playing around. We need to focus on-” He was cut off by the loud static burst of an out-of-range radio. Shit. That’s not good. If his comms unit was fried, he couldn’t direct his teammates, couldn’t keep track of them, couldn’t help them.

They were pretty spread out by now, giving everyone room to use their powers without worrying about another Heroic getting caught in the blast zone. He knew from their most recent locational sound off that Crushing Low and Invisi Girl were working together near the intersection two streets over from him, and if he could make his way over to them, he could figure out what was going on.

Marcus needed to know if it was just his commlink that was out of commission, or if their entire network had gone down. The former scenario was a minor inconvenience, the latter was a major issue. Either he’d have to lead his team by correspondence, or he’d have to worry about them being completely alone in the field, without support from HQ, and without any chance of backup or rescue.  

He couldn’t worry about the details now, he had to keep focused on finishing off the seemingly endless wave of androids. Androids with guns. Androids with guns that he was trying to kill with a pair of katanas... Maybe he hadn’t thought his primary weapon for this mission out very well... It was just something that he’d have to come back to later. For now: sword, robot, teammates.

---

They didn’t pay him enough for this. He should have gone into acting like he had planned before his powers manifested. This sort of shit didn’t happen to actors.  

Marcus had destroyed all the androids delaying him from reaching his nearest teammates and was finally able to move to their location with relative ease and only minor distraction. He could see Crushing Low laying waste to the few remaining functional robots in the area, and could assume that Invisi Girl was around somewhere, disabling any downed but not dead enemies while protecting ‘Low’s back.  

He was proven right when he heard a feminine voice call for him to “hit the deck, Moreno!”.

“Thanks Vis! You two doing alright? What’s your comms sitch?” He stood back up straight, just missing being nailed in the head by a flying metal limb had it not been for her heads-up.

“We’re a-okay! Comms are out though. No known damage to them, no knocks or surges, might be the tech, or it might be the channel. We’ll have to see what Tech-No thinks.” She was still invisible, but Marcus could imagine her animated expressions and movements. She was one of the most... normal... of the Heroics, if normal could ever be used to describe any of the team. Reliable and observant, with a good sense of battle strategy. He greatly appreciated her skills and efficiency in the field; she and Tech-No being the most down-to-earth of the Heroics, most willing to help him keep the peace between the rest of them.

“I’ll watch Low’s back if you can go find Tech. We need to know what’s going on, ASAP. If all the comms are down, and Tech can’t get them back up, I need you to find everyone and tell them to meet back at the robotics facility. Get Miracle and Fast to help if you can. If anyone’s injured, they’re your first priority, okay? Thanks, Vis.”

---

Getting every member of the Heroics team back together took nearly an hour, all coming fresh from the fight but thankfully not too banged up or bruised. They set up a perimeter once enough of the team had arrived to their meeting spot, allowing Tech-No to deep-dive into  investigating their communications malfunction.

“It’s the network, not our comms. We’re dealing with a drop either from HQ’s side, or a forced drop here from RFI. But considering the standard distance and all the buildings and stuff around us, a radio frequency jammer wouldn’t be able to block our communications network as far out as we were. We must assume that the problem comes from HQ. which presents further concerns, obviously. I designed most of the technology there myself, so I know exactly how much work it would be to take down the whole system. We need to consider this as part of a bigger plot, and plan accordingly.” Tech-No’s eventual explanation hang heavy in the air, no one willing to break the silence following it... If something had happened to HQ… Their co-workers were there, their friends, their children…  

Marcus thought of his daughter and wife. They were both there today. His wife worked in the medical centre, and they brought their daughter there for daycare. If something happened there... shit. If he was panicking about his family already, his teammates were doing the same. He had to head this off. He couldn’t let this get out of control. He took a breath and squared his shoulders. It was time to be Marcus Moreno the leader of the Heroics, not Marcus the husband and father. Lead by example, they’re all counting on you.

“We have no proof that anything is actually wrong, and until we know for sure why we can’t reach them, we need to do our jobs. Finish the mission. We’ve always trusted our people to hold down the fort at home so we can help people out here, and they’ve never let us down before. We are not going to doubt them now, understood? Whatever happened? We know HQ is doing their best to keep our loved ones safe. So, we finish up here, quickly and thoroughly, and then we head back to base. Let’s get moving,” He met his teammates’ eyes, allowed them to witness his own fears, but also his stubborn determination. He wasn’t asking them to ignore or dismiss their worries, but rather, put it into finishing the mission so they could go home sooner.  

No one fought him; thankfully just picked their tasks and headed out.  

“Tech, we need transport. Now. I don’t care how you do it, just get it done, alright?” Marcus refused to acknowledge the slight tremble in his voice, tried to breathe around the lump in his throat and the dread sinking in his stomach. He desperately stopped himself from thinking about coincidences and probabilities. This was all a fluke, a random string of events that didn’t mean anything more was going on. They’d be able to laugh about it when they got home and saw everything was just as they’d left it. He had to believe that. He didn’t have any other choice.

—-

Transport home turned out to be a military helicopter big enough to fit the whole team, in addition to the fully outfitted squad of soldiers already inside.

“According to the press release your director gave, there was small but powerful group of gifted individuals who invaded Heroics’ Headquarters, intending to either kidnap or kill certain “important personnel” within the building. Didn’t specify much more than that, other than that your organization would be dedicating as much manpower as they could to bring “those who would cause such destruction and terror” to justice. The address was filmed in the parking lot, but there were a lot of emergency responders and vehicle in the background. I’m sorry we can’t tell you anything more, but well, we were scrambled to your location ASAP, barely had time for the news we got...” The staff sergeant sitting across from Marcus briefed the team about what the intel they had on the HQ attack. And that was what it was. An attack. The thing they all feared most.

“Thank you for the information, and for the ride back home; we lost communication in the middle of a battle, with no clue as to why. Now, at least, we have an idea of what we should expect when we arrive.” The mention of “important personnel” jump-started Marcus’s heart into overdrive. That was the code phrase they used when describing their most vulnerable people to the public, non-combatants and injured persons usually; a smokescreen meant to dissuade targeted attacks, and shift attention away from those who couldn’t protect themselves in the case of an emergency. It was also the code that frequently represented their children.  

The families of the Heroics were classified as high-risk targets; villains and enemies of their organization didn’t often have the moral decency to leave their loved ones out of the fight. So, to afford as much anonymity and protection possible, any time the team had to reference their partners and children in physical records and documentation, it was under that code phrase.  

This attack was centred on their kids.  

What kind of monster do you have to be to go after a bunch of kindergarten and primary school children?

Fuck.

The only good news was that there was no mention of the attack being a success.  

So, all the Heroics knew for certain was that a group of villains had tried to get to their children, and while obviously causing significant damage to HQ, they had been stopped. Were unsuccessful. The Home Team had saved the day again.  

Marcus thanked every deity he could think of for keeping his and his friends’ kids safe.  

The rest of the flight home was quiet. Him and teammates finally able to get some rest after all the fighting and panic, and the soldiers conversing just loud enough to be heard over the headsets and hum of the chopper’s motors.  

He was pulled back from the edge of unconsciousness he had been drifting along for a while when the pilot gave them their five-minute ETA.

They were home at long last, and everything was going to be just fine.

---

[Next Part]

[bubbletimestories]

could you do a sebastian fic where sebby is dating his s/o only to get information out of them but they know he's manipulating them ? and then at one point he starts developing feelings for them but they were planning on breaking up with him :(

So....do you know the story of the girl who wanted to answer a quick prompt but finished with 5 pages ? 😅

I hope you’ll like it (I tried to write as gender neutral as possible) and thank you for the request, it’s highly appreciated  💞 💞 

The lies on your lips 

The sun illuminates the white facades of the mansion and gives the flowers in the gardens hues almost too rich for a painter's brush. The end of summer is still mild and the atmosphere is charged with the sweet scents of cupcakes and lemonade that we love to enjoy in the shade. However, not everyone takes advantage of summer idleness to relax under a tree while reading a novel. Two figures move by whirling in the courtyard, raising with each step a small cloud of dust which whitens their legs. Of the two duettists, only one is out of breath and, as usual, it's you. Your legs are stiff with fatigue, your chest heaves far too quickly but your hand does not shake, you refuse to give up. A few steps away, your fencing master does not even seem to be sweating and is patiently waiting for you to catch your breath, as he always does. His amused gaze could be infuriating if you didn't also perceive a touch of lust in it, as if the shock of your blades were only a preliminary before a more intimate and sensual melee.

“Your movement is good, Milord/Milady, but you are still resting too much on your left side. A Lisbon boot would disarm you in no time."

 Comfortably installed in an armchair stretched with white and blue fabric, your mother observes you from a distance, waving her fan of feathers. She absolutely does not believe that her child, with such an unathletic physique, can do much with a foil, but she readily acknowledges your progress since the arrival of the new teacher. If your father weren't on a trip to the wilderness of Scotland (a grim business of murder, alas, mixed up with occult), he'd probably be very surprised to see you so quick and determined.

With a discreet movement of the wrist, your teacher invites you to take a break but you don't want to, you want to draw on your last strength to carry a few more assaults before your limbs become soft like those of a puppet. Without reaching, you put yourself back on guard and attack with even greater vigor and speed, hoping deep down that you could pull even a grimace from the man in black. Your blades clash with a loud bang, you continue to waltz, gauging each other like two predators until at last you see a rift in your opponent's guard. Exhausted and excited, you rush into it and realize too late that this is a trap. The next moment you are lying on the ground, your foil a few feet from your hand.

 "Looks like you've lost again but your last streak, albeit a bit rushed, almost cost me the win. Hope you didn't hurt yourself while falling. "

 Gloved hands glide over your limbs to make sure you've got nothing, and you suppress a delicious thrill as you cross the eyes of an exquisite red. As expected since he won, you will have to resist the urge to scream while he satisfies you tonight, while his hands will hold your delicate wrists, his mouth will give you a thousand tortures without you being able to let your passion escape. One day it’s him who will lose his head, his body sweaty and your name on his lips. The delicious flavor of the forbidden only makes this relationship all the more incredible, those moments stolen from the time when the owl howls, just a few steps from the mother's bedroom. You get up with his help, dusting your dust-covered outfit while your mother congratulates the fencing master.

 - Well done, Mr Michaelis, you really are an outstanding fencer.

- It’s too much honor, Milady, I’m just one hell of a teacher.

Sebastian bowed respectfully, always so modest under all circumstances, so detached. His calm sometimes makes you think of a snake, a magnificent black viper that ripples in the grass, but that would be forgetting the burning heat of his body against yours, his kisses sometimes tender sometimes disarming at the most incongruous moments. Breathing still choppy, you take time off to go to your room and clean yourself up properly, removing the thick gray layer that covers your limbs, stuck with sweat. The bath prepared by the maid does you a lot of good and you let her clean your hair and nails, anxious to appear to your advantage. Then you ask to be left alone to get dressed, pacing the room, naked. Every corner of the room seems to you to be inhabited by the presence of the fencing master, in one place he devoured your lips, in another he healed your swollen ankle although it was not his role. You who had always refused the suitors around you, it didn't take long for you to succumb to the charm of the man in black, his soft voice, his elegance. Your affair has lasted for several weeks and no one suspects anything thanks to the young man's discretion. Your fingers stroke the glove you managed to steal from him after a night of love, you bring it to your lips, feel the grain of the fabric against your mouth. Then your smile subsides.

 Liar

 Such a perfect being, so mysterious, could not but arouse your curiosity but also your suspicions. When you have a father who investigates the cults of Britain, you learn to beware of what sounds too good to be true. And then there's this young boy you sometimes see, puny, a long lock in front of his eye. His almost ghostly allure has stuck on your retina and if you don't know exactly what to think, one thing is certain in your mind: Sebastian is lying to you, he is manipulating you like a vulgar doll. Deep down, it doesn't shock you, he wouldn't be the first to want to make an obedient toy out of you, but it's the first time you've let someone pull your strings. In the mirror, you meet a frozen gaze, filled with anger even if you don't really know which of him or of you deserves your hatred the most. Your hands angrily take the clothes on the bed, the satin slides over your flesh like an icy wave, so different from the softness of gloved hands. No need to lie to yourself, you realized a long time ago that Mr. Michaelis had wrapped his chains all around you, not just around your body but also around your heart. You want him, you love him and you hate him. However, you are aware that crying scandal would be pointless. The beautiful man is too meticulous, too well-liked to arouse any suspicion. And then, in this affair, who has the most to lose? That’s why you keep quiet, you don’t intend to chase him away or prevent him from carrying out his plans. No doubt he will achieve his ends and disappear without leaving a trace. But that doesn't mean you have to remain his puppet. Tonight you will end your relationship.

 ***

The moon is high in the sky as you leave the mansion to enter the gardens under the pretext of wanting to enjoy the starry night. The knots of your outfit flutter gently in the light breeze and you walk between the thickets to get away from the lights, the music, the rest of the world. No need to watch for a rustle, crackle or noise, you know Sebastian will arrive as quietly as a feather in the wind, as if he were emerging from the darkness. With a few glances, a purely aristocratic authoritarian chin movement which he adores, you have made a date with your lover in the secret gardens. Strangely, you don't feel any pain at the thought of breaking your bond, only a great void and a certain weariness. He gave you what you didn't think you wanted: the feeling of being desirable and lovable, and for that you are grateful to him. But it has to stop and quickly, before it gets too hard.

 "Did I tell you how much that color highlights your mouth, Y/N? Tonight you looked like you could devour the world with just one bite, with the movement of your lips."

 In the half-light, his pupils shine with a glow more reminiscent of amethyst than ruby, you have learned to recognize this change as a sign of interest, when his excitement is strong. Unless it's just a comedy, a subtle acting game. This is not the first time he compliments your mouth rather than your eyes like everyone else does, he says he loves the way you talk, curl your lips, consume like a voracious and greedy animal. Behind the delicate and elegant facade, he alone knows your insatiable appetites, the violence of your desires. You smile before picking up one of the swords you took care to take tonight. The bare blade captures the moon's rays and makes it shine with a silvery sheen.

 “We're going to play a game, Mr. Michaelis. We will face each other now, in the stillness of the night, until one of us bleeds. During this time, you will have to answer my questions honestly, without lying."

 Your vibrant voice informs the young man about your intentions, it is not a parade of seduction but a declaration of war. Regardless, both situations will bring him equal pleasure and he stares at you with a smirk, picking up the other sword without taking his eyes off you.

- This is a dangerous game, my love, what will I gain from it?

- You never refused a good fight seems to me.

 To support your point, you raise your sword with an innocent smile, knowing in advance that the pleasure of the game will outweigh anything else in the fencing master. You see it in the crease of his mouth, in the movement of his eyebrow, you've caught his attention. With feline grace, Sebastian begins to circle around the yard as before, shedding his jacket and exposing his thin muscles under the snowy fabric of his shirt. He can feel all the anger pulsing through your veins, you must have discovered something incriminating him, but that's okay. His mission is coming to an end and he will soon have to return to his little master, even if the prospect does not enchant him too much. He loves your company, your light shoulder movement when you concentrate, the tension in your muscles when you hold back from sighing, the twinkle of your eyes revealing the fire that burns under the fine varnish of appearances.

 - Let's start with something easy: is Sebastian Michaelis your real name?

- That’s the name I have agreed to bear on this earth.

 Your blades cross, you study each other with your eyes as you vainly search his face for signs of deception. You have never detected one before, you will not pierce his mask tonight. Fighting in your evening clothes is much more complex than in your fencing ones, the fabric stretches and hinders you in your movements but it only reinforces your rage. And then you have this strange thought that wounds will look better on pretty fabric than on dull cotton. As for Sebastian, he ditched the black of his suit tonight to let blood show with every scratch.

 - Did you come here to spy or to gather information ?

- Yes.

 His answer is simple, spoken in a clear voice without any emotion, shame, regret or even mockery. Would you have liked him to be more cruel? At least that confirms your suspicions even though you now feel a thousand questions on your tongue ready to pop out. You have to stay focused, parrying an attack to respond better. You feel stronger, faster than ever before, it's an exhilarating feeling but one that you can't appreciate because what's at stake in this fight is your heart.

 - Did you seduce me on purpose?

- Yes.

 Once again, he responds calmly as if you asked him if the weather would be nice tomorrow. The detachment with which he says "yes", while continuing to parry your attacks effortlessly ... it's almost painful. Sebastian executes a movement as fast as an arrow, his sword biting the fabric of your sleeve but not cutting into your skin. You're sure he did it on purpose, he doesn't want the game to end and you know full well he's too good to be hurt. His speed and agility are almost… inhuman. In a flash, you think back to the ghost you saw, to certain stories circulating about the queen's hound ...

 - Would you have kill me on the orders of your master?

- Yes.

 The attacks are faster, you waltz at a frantic pace, moving forward, backward, constantly avoiding to better face each other again and you feel the anger rising more and more at the risk of blind you and getting lost your concentration. Still, the young man does not seem to be trying to take advantage of it, just pushing your boots aside without trying anything further. On the contrary, he slows down the movement gradually, detailing your rapid breathing, the sweat that pearls on your forehead, the red of your cheeks. You are exhausted and even if you are enduring, you maintain an aristocratic health, you have to be careful. That's why he lets himself be disarmed, your sword under his chin while looking at you intently without even trying to wipe the thin scarlet line that crosses his cheekbone, signaling the end of the fight.

 "Do I have the right to add one last truth before we go our separate ways? "

 You should say no, you would like to refuse, tell him to disappear from your sight, that you never want to hear his voice again, his sweet but empty words, his exquisite and bewitching lies. But you nod your head without lowering your blade, in anticipation. Perhaps he will explain more precisely why he used you. After all, he's only telling the truth tonight, cruel as it is. Sebastian plunges his shifting eyes deep inside yours, running his tongue over his lips before speaking the most shocking, infamous truth a demon can ever articulate.

 " I love you."

[starshipsofstarlord]

That Pizza Place | Nolan Holloway AU (Set in S3A)

Your brother would disapprove, like he did of most things if he found out. But you should have suspected him to find out about your little secret one day. Apparently, the time had come for that to happen, because apparently, a certain someone could not help but blabber.

“She’s got another date tonight, that’s why she doesn’t want to come on look out with us.” At Isaac’s words, Derek froze, becoming as still as a statue, The only parts of him that indicated any life were the tenseness in his arms, the veins flexed as though he was preparing to kill someone, and knowing him he was. Also his nostrils were flared, almost exhaling smoke, and his eyes were rabid, dancing over you with offense.

“We’ve just got Cora back, lost Erica and Boyd, and that is your main concern?” From Isaac’s expression, you could recognise the regret that had just formed after his explicit slip up. But that didn’t matter as you gulped and your outline was burnt by Derek’s disappointed glare.

That wasn’t true at all though, you just needed a distraction. And the boy you were currently spending your time with did a good job at that. He was different from all of the other guys that you sometimes felt like you were forced to spend your time with.

Nolan Holloway was one of a kind. Similar to Boyd, at school he was mostly by himself, but there was a twist. Your late friend and pack mate clearly liked the isolation from people, and often got annoyed, for which you couldn’t blame him, when Scott and Stiles came by to ask him for a favour. However, Nolan wanted to know people, his anxiety just usually held him back, so in your friendship, you made the first move.

There were times that he reminded you of Stiles, there was a trait they shared. Knowledge. Each was a well of it, but mostly in different sections. The abominable snowman was focused on history and mythology, whereas Nolan excelled in science. Other than that, Nolan was much quieter, even when it was just the pair of you. But you didn’t mind it if a conversation went silent, it was still comfortable, and you could sense that he felt that too.

Like Scott, Nolan cared about people, although in his case those numbers were lower than the werewolf’s. And that was the main thing - werewolves, kanimas, hunters. He knew nothing, his mind was clear from the curses, and he wasn’t looking for a secret, so it was unlikely that he would find out the fact that you weren’t human.

Sure he was curious and all, but he had yet to grow into his boots of courage and go out and investigate. He said he liked finding new things out about you, but surely it couldn’t hurt if you left the whole full moon quadrant out of the equation. If anything, it could be seen as self preservation, the less people that knew, the less people would discover the cold hard facts of your life.

“Don’t you dare pull that card on me.” It came out as a growl, aimed at your sibling. You had every right to be offended by his statement, and you sure as hell were. “Of course I’m pleased that Cora is back, and sad that two of my friends are dead, I just need a break. I’m a kid! The innocence of it was taken from you, don’t take it from me.”

He was uncertain of how to respond to your outburst, but you didn’t give him the chance. You walked in a quick pace to leave the loft, and the two wolves remaining behind. Taking your phone out, you looked at your contacts, scrolling down until you saw that you had no messages. Good, he didn’t cancel.

Isaac became incredibly nervous under the tension that was still filling the room even after you had happily left. “Should we go after her?” He asked, genuinely worried, although he suspected you were meeting up with that quiet guy from school as you had originally arranged to.

Sighing, Derek lowered his head. This was definitely not his first argument with you, you’d always been a bit of a pain as a kid, especially when Peter used to sneak you into the high school as a teenager, but this was different. He had pulled the guilt card, all because he thought he’d need another pair of hands if push came to shove. 

 But he wanted you to be prepared and alert for anything that came your way, otherwise he feared that you would end up like Erica and Boyd. And he had lost enough family, he had thought Cora was gone up until recently, but instead, she had been used as a pawn. A captive by the Alpha Pack.

“No.” The man answered his beta, knowing how much his words had stung you. “She needs her time, we’ll see her whenever she comes back.” Of course a part of him was paranoid that you wouldn’t, that one of the rogue alphas would snatch you up and keep you prisoner, or even kill you but he had to have some faith.

You had made it to the pizza joint, and walked in, quickly finding the one that you had arranged this so called ‘date’ as Isaac had described it. You knew the pair were vaguely familiar with each other, Nolan had just joined the lacrosse team and really wasn’t doing half bad considering he was playing on the same side as a couple of werewolves.

“Hi.” You sat opposite him, dropping your phone on the table, relieved that you hadn’t been notified about your big brother trying to contact you. He must have known that he had struck a nerve, and that was probably the reason that he was leaving you be, which you weren’t mad for.

“Hey.” He smiled, all to aware and wary of his surroundings. It wasn’t the busiest of places during this time, but it wasn’t quiet either. There was a baby crying in the far right corner, wanting attention and nurturing from their parents, and then a couple of guys from your biology class by the window, discussing the newest assignment. 

“Do you want to get out of here?” You asked him, smelling the confusion and hint of hope that rolled off of his shoulders. It was awkward for him to see people from school, which he could considering the side of the table he was seated at. Too many people judged him for being introverted, the comments had just begun to die down only because of his choice of joining a sports team.

As for you, everyone knew you as a Hale. When Scott was first bit and he was untrusting of Derek, you spied on him around school, keeping an eye on the boy, following the orders given by your brother.

But other than that, it was no secret about what happened to your family, especially when the truth about Kate and her actions were unveiled. The fire of the old Hale has was an infamous piece of knowledge if you lived in Beacon Hills. Some people, those who had not lived here all of their lives were occasionally impartial to knowing the information, but others let them in, telling them about how children were turned to a crisp, and the fact that there were few survivors.

It had never bought you any friends, just pity. And then those pitying folk would go on to say that it will be okay, or that their cat got ran over last week. The worst thing actually was, they didn’t know why the majority of your family were charred to ashes, some people supposed there were faulty wires or so on.

But this was why you wouldn’t allow Nolan to know the truth. Because of what you are, it even cost the lives of your human family members, to that bitch of a hunter though, that didn’t matter. It was a sacrifice for the greater good in her eyes, she had deserved worse than death itself. As much as you liked him and appreciated his presence, there was no one that you could trust with that intel, he’d either think you were bonkers or run away screaming, only to return with an onslaught of werewolf killing methods.

“You only just got here.” He answered, although he was leaning forward to agreeing. A smile perked up on your face, nothing too flashy, enough to convince him otherwise though.

“I want to show you something.” Jumping up from your seat, Nolan was inclined to follow your actions, and also you. It was something personal, something that you liked to keep private, and if your brother knew, he would surely threaten to rip your throat out.

But in all fairness, it was a part of both of you, the stem of the Hales that had fortunate escapes, whether you thought of them as that or not. History one could say, the place that tied you to Beacon Hills. The Nemeton.

A/N: Probably be doing a part 2, hope you enjoyed it xx

[agreementtale]

Chapter 25: Prepare yourself

“Stop wasting your food” came the familiar screech.

“Hm?” they turned around, trying to find him on the snow “You’re back!”

“Yes, I’m back” they quickly put the boot down and allowed him to get comfortable “And I saw you giving that away! You can’t do that, do you know how hard is to get food around here?”

“I already ate today” They were carrying the boot since he left, they hoped it still had a lingering warmth on it, ice shouldn’t be pleasant on roots.

“Then keep it for tomorrow” They wanted to ask about Mom, to know how she was doing now that they were gone.

“He was hungry now, it didn’t cost me anything” But if his only concern was them feeding the homeless, they could conclude that Mom was mostly alright.

“It costs you tomorrow’s food” And if Mom wasn’t alright, did they even wanted to know? They wouldn’t come back to the Ruins, not without breaking the barrier first.

“Tomorrow I’ll have breakfast with Sans again” And it would be a long journey until they broke the barrier.

His spooked expression caught their attention “You what?”

“Or is it lunch?” why was he surprised? They had talked with the brothers a few times now, and Sans had shown no intention to kill them, was it so weird they went to Grillby’s? “Is it lunch if I haven’t eaten breakfast yet?”

“What do you mean you had breakfast with Sans? Didn’t I told you not to do anything stupid?” Or he could just be Flowey, and be finding something to complain no matter what.

“It wasn’t stupid, it was free food”

“There is no thing as free food! You gave him something in return”

“He paid” Not actually, but he did put it on his tab.

“Yes, but I know you, you talked to him! What did you say?”

“We… traded jokes”

“And?” And they started a passionate rant that they didn’t remember all the details.

“He told me a bit about monsters” they don’t think they let it slip anything too bad or that could be used against them “And I told him a bit about humans”

“You should never tell him those things!” Flowey snatched their finger from their cheek, as if he could emphasize his words with the sudden action.

“He already knows I want to befriend everyone” They got their finger out of his vines with ease “he don’t believe me anyway”

“You didn’t tell him about the barrier, did you?” He was quiet, like he was afraid someone was listening.

“Nope, I’m not that stupid” There wasn’t, the homeless guy was long gone, there was no one even close to them.

“Yes you are” now he was just being petty “but anyway–/”

“Anyway” they interrupted whatever rude insult he was going to make by walking faster “he told me I’m smart, so me being stupid is just your opinion”

“…” eyed them warily, if they didn’t know any better they would think he was looking for signs of lying “He was being sarcastic”

They wanted to roll their eyes at him “Nope” was that so hard to believe? “he actually said I was smart”

“That doesn’t sound right”

They were about to retort when a blurry something entered their field of vision, they only had time to turn a bit to the side, taking Flowey out of the way before the impact.

They were thrown on the ground, just like the blurry someone.

“Hey!” a yellow and black shirt, instead of blurry was now covered in snow “Watch where you’re going” A single yellow stripe on a black shirt, with a little yellow monster inside “You wanna die today?” He still yelled from the snow.

“Not really” they remembered him, even if he seemed to be older that when they first met “I’ll prefer to die some other day, but thank you for asking” they got up, patting themselves and Flowey.

“Are you messing with me?” He was still on the ground, they got closer to help him.

“Why do you have to be like this?” their brother grumbled almost inaudible.

“No, I’m just new here, you can call me Weird Puppy” They extended their hand to help their friend.

“You are messing with me!” He somehow managed to get up and away from them in a single movement.

“Yes” Flowey said in a tired voice “Offer your hand to the kid with no arms, very clever”

“What – no!” Oh, god, why did they extended their hand to him? “I’m so sorry! I just wanted to help you get up” How could they remember being friends with him and forget this ‘detail’?

“I don’t need your help!” He shouted, still agitated “I don’t need anyone’s help” and with this he ran away.

“He looked distressed” they couldn’t help but think out loud.

“They just got thrown in the ground by a stranger”

“Oh…” he was still a kid, right “yeah, that would make anyone distressed, but why did they run away without even saying their name?”

“Monster Kid”

“No, I know their name, I just wanted to make a conversation so we could be friends” He and the little bunny were the only kids they saw in Snowdin.

“With someone you just pushed to the ground and as far as they know, wanted them dead, but was too coward to call them to an encounter”

That wasn’t what happened.

Why would he think they would kill him? They were also wearing stripes…

“You talk like making friends is impossible here”

“It is when you start by tackling someone to the ground” … he had a point… but they were not ready to admit defeat just yet.

“Tell this to the Froggits or the Vegetoid on the Ruins I made friends with” in this world tackling someone was a completely valid way to make friends.

“Vegetoid never attacked you” yes he did “she introduced you as her child” oh… no, that was just the second time, the first time they had died.

“Then to the Dogi or Greater, or Lesser, they all attacked me”

“They are not your friends, they just tolerated you because you wear stripes” that was not true! He saw how they clicked with Lesser dog.

“Now you just want to hurt my feelings” Stripes or not, that had been a nice game of fetch, and nothing he could say would convince them otherwise.

“I’m your only friend, you should listen to me” Oh, so that was the point he was so desperately trying to make?

“Ok, ok, I’m listening” if he wanted them to stroke his ego “Please drop your fabled knowledge, my dearest and only friend in this whole world” they would oblige.

“I hate you” and annoy him in the meantime.

“What a terrible burden to keep an idiot such as myself alive for so long!” said putting a hand to their forehead in their best acting voice.

“I really want to kill you right now” the irritated way his vines twitched was so funny!

“On the dreadful day of your death I’m sure you’ll go straight to Heaven” They put the boot on the ground before he decided to smack them “Because you atoned for all your sins here on Earth, by putting up with a vile and annoying being” but made sure to walk in circles around him while monologing.

“You’re not even making sense” but still keeping enough distance his vines wouldn’t reach them, in case he tried.

“Oh, sweet relief the day you are finally free from the claws of stupidity” a snowball straight to their face stopped them mid rant, they looked at him confused.

“Stupidity, I’m listening” he was smiling, holding a snowball, when did he had the time to make one? Two actually, they had just lowered him there, there was no time!

“Oh no, you didn’t” cleaning snow from their mouth, confusion morphed into determination.

“Keep going, I’m listening” still staring at their eyes, he slowly made another snowball, as if he hadn’t proved he was able to produce one in less than two seconds..

“And” the attack was expected, they dodged one snowball and another “So you can” But a vine moved the snow near their foot, distracting them enough to be hit by other two balls.

“I can what?” asked him sweetly “~I can’t hear you over all that snow~”

That was all the taunting they needed “Oh, it’s on!”

“Snowdin is nice” they said while laying on the snow, they were in the middle of the city, being goofy and all, and no one had tried interfere on their snow fight.

“Don’t get used to it” Flowey was looking away, keeping guard while they caught their breath “If you are really doing this, it will only get harder from here”

“I’m sure we can figure a way out” They enjoyed the fresh snow on the ground, while looking at the small flakes falling lazily on the ‘sky’.

It was just a cave ceiling, but with the diffuse illumination of the reflecting stones, it was clearly day outside.

The light in Snowdin was just like a, slightly dark, day in a cloudy weather.

“You don’t understand” His tone of voice was concerning.

They turned to him with their full attention.

“There are places, really bad places, places you are always being watched and can’t escape” he looked at them, the playful mood from before long gone “You can’t go there, you have to listen to me when I tell you where to go, so you can avoid getting stuck” he avoided their eyes, looking at the ground instead “I’m not strong, if you don’t listen to me, then there is nothing I can do”

“Ok, I’ll listen to you” They wanted him to stop worrying so much “What do you want to do now?” He wasn’t strong enough, but they knew they would be when they needed to.

“Stay in Snowdin a bit more” Easy done, but why would he want that?

“Are you sure?” They would prefer to keep going, but a bit of peace before the storm was welcomed.

“You want to make friends, right? You’ll need practice” And they knew that if Snowdin was calm, Waterfalls would be one hell of a storm “And more important, do you see that house over there?” he pointed to the brothers house “Never go past there”

The path to fight Papyrus.

And the barrier ahead.

“Ok, we will stay here for a while” they blew the snowflakes from their face “Does that makes you happy?”

“I don’t get happy” sure he didn’t.

“Does that makes you less annoyed?” They started to move, to make a snow angel and decorate the city, everyone passing the main road would be able to see it.

They could hear his eyes rolling in the tone of his voice “Sure, why not”

“I love you, brother” they said truthfully.

“Whatever” They chose to hear this as ‘Me too’, it was not like he was going to admit it anytime soon.

And maybe, just maybe, they were expecting too much.

He couldn’t feel love as a flower, or so he told them. But since they got here, he had been nothing but kind to them, in his own way.

And he proved he cared several times, so maybe ‘not feeling love’ was just the way he chose to interpret it? A way to cope, to exaggerate the fact so he could accept and move on?

They had done something similar after all, back on the – Cold, cold, cold!

Achoo!

“Get out of the snow, stupid, do you want to catch a cold?” the whole body sneeze forced them to sit down.

“Is just a sneeze, Flowey” they patted the excess of snow out of their neck.

“And next thing you know you are bed ridden and can’t breathe” now he was the one being dramatic “Get up, now”

“But it’s so comfy!” they laid down again, nor ready to abandon their snow angel “it isn’t even that cold” magic snow was the perfect temperature to lay onto.

“I’m telling Mom”

…

Low blow.

“Ok, ok… I’m going…”

“You’re not moving”

With a unhappy moan they got up “There” said opening their arms to make a point “Happy?”

“Less annoyed” he smiled as they picked the boot “Now go there, the heat of the bar should keep you warm enough”

It should, standing near the Grillby’s should warm up both of them, and hey, he was the one to suggest they stayed in the city a little longer, right?

If they happened to find more people to introduce themselves to, it was an added bonus!

______________________

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[rpmemesbyarat]

RP Meme from "Chapter One: Caliah (Lore)" in the Bastet breedbook from "Werewolf: The Apocalypse"

Once there was a cat who dreamed he was a man.

Like the morning mist, she appeared from nowhere, or so it seemed.

The winds have spoken of your dilemma and I have come to show you the way home.

Why do you call me brother?

We are family.

We have different parents but share the same blood.

You need to meet your people

You are my sister

I have no other family. Don’t leave me!

We all have family

What are the dreams of a cat?

Let us welcome each other and speak of hidden things.

If they come in peace, we welcome them.

I’m just a mutt.

Listen up and listen close, ‘cause this isn’t stuff you’ll hear from any old place.

I’ve got friends with friends, if y’know what I mean, and this is good stuff.

They don’t get along, y’know.

A good lorespeaker tells different stories every time, and she makes ‘em as cool as possible.

Sound like anyone we know? Nah! Couldn’t be!

So how do you trade secrets, anyway? After all, isn’t a secret shared a secret lost?

If you don’t play the game, you don’t learn a thing.

Each element of the message becomes a metaphor, and the message becomes a story.

Florid? Hell yeah! But ya gotta admit it’s more graceful — and exposes a hell of a lot less — than blurting out the truth.

You might say, “I heard a story about so-and-so” but you’d never say “I did so-and-so.” If your audience has a clue, they’ll catch on.

Everything’s told in metaphors.

A good obtuse metaphor makes you look imaginative if someone gets it, really stupid otherwise.

Everything is larger than life. People don’t just cry, they “explode in showers like the sea.” Folks don’t just get mad, they “turn into coals that burn through the floor.”

If what you’re saying is important, bigger is better.

Simple? Not if you don’t get the lingo.

A wounded cat can surrender without disgrace.

Not enough to go around.

Hey, don’t let on you know what I told you, huh?

It was a time before life, a longing when the dream of birth was yet to be.

This marked the end of peace and the beginning of struggle.

Such promises are soon broken.

Why does even the skin of my daughter flee from my hands?

Why must I always be alone?

Master, what would you have of us?

Nothing exists for him but annihilation.

Go across the world

Let that which is pure stand whole, but erode that which is impure from within.

He tells many tales, but all of them are lies. He is rage made manifest, and he coils within us all.

There was no want, no war, no anguish, and all living things gave of themselves to help others exist.

Until some cataclysm happened, everything lived in peace and plenty.

Life has ever been a struggle, my brothers and sisters. Life has always meant that some may die for others’ pleasure.

That pleasure may be as necessary as hunger or as frivolous as sport, but it has always been fatal and always will be.

Only through struggle can we progress.

Only through sacrifice can we succeed.

We were born from conflict and we grow through adversity. Our ancestors are predators, great cats and human hunters who rose above their surroundings and mastered them.

We know our place in the Great Order, and it is not passive.

Like the moon, our world waxes and wanes.

Each era glows brightly, then fades into night before rising again as some new age.

As creatures of light, dark and twilight all, we are not moved much by the vagaries of fortune.

Each tribe has its creation story, and they differ in many ways.

I have my own ideas.

We are a breed eternally apart, and we are rare.

Water runs silent, yet crushes with the power of an elephant.

Its depths hold secrets that only the brave can find.

The first of our kind were nearly the last.

Those it caught were devoured.

Let this be your legacy

My tears, shed for you, will boil in your veins.

All people will fear you, and all animals, too.

Begone and tend the flocks that need killing.

I banish you from sight!

They still live on in us, and we carry their curse to this day.

As the humans prospered, they grew quickly out of hand.

It was a bloody, useless time, and we fractured as a people.

Secrets became the only thing to bind us.

It’s hard to forgive these raging bastards.

Very territorial, and I know how that feels.

There are enough horrors in the night already.

Corruption has a million voices; sometimes they drown out the song of the moon and lead us over cliffs.

That song wails from nightclubs, boom boxes and televisions every day.

Stop up your ears, my friend and listen to the wind.

Those secrets led the wolves to our door — literally.

Gods damn the dogs for that!

Their misbegotten crusade killed hundreds of our Kind and Kin.

She mated with serpents, wolves and great cats in an effort to become like them, but gave birth to monsters instead.

Some legends portray her as one of our kind, but we know this isn’t so.

If the tales I’ve heard are any measure, they have no pity for us at all.

We are where we are born.

I think our unique insights show us that humanity is a mixed blessing — especially where the earth and the wild are concerned.

Men are the cleverest monkeys, no doubt, but they don’t have much sense of self-preservation.

Our forebears fought to let humanity prosper.

We have an amazing world at our fingertips, but it’s filled with poisons and lies.

Honor seems to be a fading dream in lands where the rich starve their people and the poor kill each other.

We hold magic within ourselves, within our hearts and minds and spirits. To dishonor ourselves is to disperse that magic and scatter our souls.

It’s acceptable to lie to other creatures; they’re not of our blood and not bound by our laws.

We will flee to survive a fight, but will not run when others depend on our strength.

We must make restitution to those we deceive, in deeds, trade or money.

We may be exiled or branded.

Our weapons are many — secrets, claws, teeth and allies — and we will not hesitate to employ them for our world’s

survival.

Our people have walked too close to extinction for us to take such matters lightly.

We will not ally ourselves with shadow powers or drink corrupted wisdom.

We do not fail our Earth and mother. That path leads to death.

We are the keepers of secrets, and our fates depend on silence.

Each of us bears the hidden doom of our own people, and we know the cost of betraying that trust.

We also know that we have what others want — or what they think they want — and it amuses us to make them squirm.

Our knowledge is our concern.

We will not share it unless we wish to.

We will hide ourselves from outsiders; they will think they know us, but we will delude them.

We will wrap our lore in riddles and tales; let the clever ones puzzle out their meaning.

We will act as if we know even more than we do, for it keeps outsiders guessing.

Let them wonder at our insight; they value us more highly when they do.

We will cover our tracks with misdirection, pretend to be other than what we are, fill the air with idle rumors and hide messages in code.

There is no forgiveness for this crime.

Well, let’s just say I know what I’ve seen. And I’ve seen a lot.

His eyes were so filled with pain that I decided to help out.

I’d swear he was grinning as the semi ran him down.

That felt good.

Guess they’ve gotta live here, too.

I say they’re not as smart as they might think.

Maybe I’m the one who’s being fooled.

I could tell you stories all night, all week, all month and more.

As the temples rose and the hordes crossed through, our parents sat on the sidelines of history and observed the passing of kings.

The cultures we witnessed shaped our own ways.

Cities rose, each with secrets too tempting to ignore.

For a long time — 4,000 years — there was all the room in the world for us, and no lack of secrets to keep us entertained.

We should have seen the signs in the Classical Age, when armies swept across the land in the names of gods, kings and conquerors.

We should have met en masse when trade and crusades brought East and West together.

I will not belabor the point. We know what happened.

Explorers, slavers and great white hunters bounded into the wilderness and cast a chain around our kind.

Suddenly, we went from having all space to having little.

I can’t say I don’t share the sentiment just a bit.

We didn’t stop until a greater evil forced us to align, but that’s another story.

It’s a wonder anyone survived.

We studied their secrets, but could learn nothing from them.

We have no one to blame but ourselves.

For all our vaunted sight, we’re blind. For all our gathered lore, we’re stupid.

The world is falling apart.

I don’t know whether to believe it or not, but we are living in interesting times!

We must pool our secrets, combine our efforts, and bring the world’s secrets to light.

We must act on what we discover and disperse what we learn.

Do I lose my cool?

The modern age is the greatest puzzle we could want endless streams of secrets, enigmas, wonders and dazzles, wrapped up in an explosive package that could blow us all to hell.

Anywhere, at any time, the whole ride could fly off the rails.

Those who ignore the warning feed the vultures the next morning.

I’ll simply say the tigers are not where you’d expect.

People have begun to open their eyes, but they still need your counsel to see the cliff’s edge before falling off

Those stories are true — violently true — and they add up to an appalling picture if you string them all together.

They get an idea, work on it a bit, and try to rule the world. Typical. We’ve seen their kind before.

Look around you if you doubt it.

Surely the secrets you’ve uncovered have given you the idea that maybe, just maybe, something’s going on, something bigger than another plunder, another invasion, another city that falls to ruin in a century.

Discover what you can, but bury your tracks well.

We’re strangers to each other for most of our lives, and we like it that way — a few careful gatherings are all we

can stand.

The moon is our patron, but the shadows are our father too, and they call to us at our weaker moments.

Most of us dance on the edge, though, and that’s where we like to be!

Despite our pains, we’re spirited and wild, inquisitive yet careful, sensual yet refined.

Our beauty is our greatest pride, and our wits are second to none.

We know what we are.

To hell with them all!

Still, we cannot let pride blind us to the facts.

The morning it foretells is up to us.

We must come together, yet retain our pride.

We are the keepers of secrets.

Perhaps it’s time those secrets were revealed.

[petri808]

Underneath the Same Starry Sky

My piece for the @fairytailcharityfanzine 💜 we can now share it, please enjoy!

Nalu Reflective piece that takes place during the one year hiatus, focusing on Natsu’s feeling during his training, and Lucy.

Every single muscle in Natsu’s body ached worse than being electrocuted by one of Laxus’ lightning bolts.  His joints screamed like a banshee if he even thought about moving an inch for the rest of the night and he prayed that come morning’s light he could get up to do it all again.  The training routine he’d carved out for himself was ten times harder than anything he’d ever attempted before, but it’s a necessary evil and one that numbed his mind to the reasons behind its mission.  Tartaros was a wake-up call.  A proverbial slap to the ego that brought the mighty Fairytail guild to its knees.  Sure, they won the battle, but at a substantial cost.

He couldn’t afford to lose like that again.  Not when there were so many things at stake.

But tonight, there’s nothing more he can do except lie on his bedroll staring up at the sky.  If someone attacked him now in such a vulnerable state, they might win.  He doubted it.  Even the locals steered clear of the mountain he’d chosen.  Too afraid of the rumors of a crazy fire wielding man who could shake the very bedrock beneath their feet.  No, tonight it’s just him, Happy, and that sky.  A beautiful expanse of darkened heavens with no clouds to dampen its effects.

Ugh!  Nights like this were the hardest.  Each time he opened his eyes and gazed upon those twinkling stars his partner would drift into his mind and throw it back into chaos.  Lucy…. The golden queen who reigns over the celestial world, adored by her spirits, loved by her friends, and treasured by his truly.  

Everything he did was to protect the ones he loved.  And above all, her.

Just thinking about the attractive blonde sent a strange flutter through his core.  Natsu wasn’t immune to the desires created in any hot-blooded male when seeing such an attractive female.  But she’s different, special, not something treated like arm-candy or tied down by anyone unless of her own choosing.  Besides, he didn’t feel worthy of her attention.  Not yet.  Maybe one day, but not until he could truly safeguard her future, even from his own demons.  Besides, there’s still much to do.  It’s only his second month and already the drain on his mind, body, and soul pushed him to his limits.  But Natsu’s no quitter.  Once he set his heart on something, he would move all of Earthland to see it through.  Things would get easier over time as his body adapts to the training, so until then, no pain, no gain, and a blonde waiting at the end of this goal.

‘I really wish you were here Igneel…. Too many questions I never got the answer to….  Even new ones on things I don’t quite know what to do with.’  Natsu lets out an audible exhale.  ‘I miss you….  It’s like a huge part of me’s gone and I know I’ll never get it back.  Will that empty feeling ever go away?’  His eyes close for a moment as he remembers the pain of watching the fight between Igneel and Acnologia.  He’d held out so much hope that Igneel would win, only to have that faith dashed against the rocks like a ship, wrecking along the shore.  It was at that point, when Natsu felt like the small child again, alone and lost in the forest before Makarov had found and taken him to Fairytail.  He’d promised Igneel to keep growing, to keep looking towards the future, and he will.  He will get stronger!  But such pain and sense of initial loss from his childhood had never fully gone away, just sidetracked once he’d met Lucy.  

Again, with Lucy.  That day in Hargeon was the last time Natsu’d gone off on his own in search of Igneel.  Was that meaningful?  It had to be.  How else could one person, who he’d just met, unconsciously change his course in life if it didn’t have some major significance?  What would Igneel have said about her?  ‘Who am I kidding, he would love Lucy!  I bet he would tease me about her if he were here….  I know she would have liked him too….’  She would never be a replacement for his adoptive dragon father, but… ‘Lucy fills some void.’  A concept he couldn’t deny any longer.  

This training mission was the longest they’d been apart since, well, the day they met.  It’s a little weird, Natsu would admit, and he missed her along with all of his friends.  He wondered what they’re up to.  Are they rebuilding the guild hall right now?  Probably to be even bigger or better than before.  ‘Yeah…. It’s gonna be so nice to see it again!’  He should have stayed to help them rebuild, but this is more important.  ‘So, we don’t lose the next time!’  Did Gray miss their fighting, because he kind of did.  He loved to rile that ice queen up!  ‘I’m sure they’re all doing fine.’

But to take the power left to him by Igneel, he needed to strengthen his reserves and that took time.  He really didn’t understand how long he would be away for.  It could be months or even years; hopefully not the latter.  Mastering this new secret art is his primary focus and he couldn’t go back until he’d attained it.  It was his hidden weapon against his brother and it just needed to be perfect.  

Long blistering days had turned into weeks.  Laborious weeks dragged into months and as each one passed the physical pain had morphed into an emotional toll.  Now five months into his training, Natsu sometimes lost track of time itself, and it was only with Happy’s help that he knew how long he’d been at this.  The cheerleading Exceed made sure they had food or other provisions because the slayer would forget.  Even his hair was now past his shoulder blades, but he tied it back when it got in his way.  

Though it wasn’t all that bad, he’d made a lot of progress and was sure that it wouldn’t be too much longer till he could return home.  So, after another long day and a meal of roasted wild bird, Natsu submerges himself up to his neck in a nearby hot pond.  It was one of the few reasons he’d chosen this semi-isolated location.  The broiling waters were a bit too hot for any normal humans, but for a fire dragon slayer, something perfectly suited to soothe away his aches, and maybe some of his anguish.  Lately a few of Zeref’s parting words, “to kill or let live,” were toying with his mind.  “The one to reach me will be you or END…”  He still didn’t fully understand it.  Igneel also told him not to look at the END book.  But why not?  Who is this END person?!  “And what the hell did Zeref mean by passing to me, an even greater despair?!”  Regardless of not understanding, the message was clear.  Trouble was coming.

The steaming waters were making him sleepy, but he wasn’t ready to let it take him yet.  He just need to hash out these thoughts so he could move on because if he couldn’t, then he wouldn’t be able to focus on his training.  To concentrate the residual power, he needed a clear mind.  A long exhale escapes and Natsu closes his eyes.  Killing wasn’t the Fairytail way, so that wasn’t something Natsu even wanted to consider.  There had to be another solution, but it was difficult to figure out what that could be since he didn’t even know who or what this enemy was.  From the scant information they’d given him, END was the most powerful demon Zeref had ever created, one that not even Igneel could defeat.  That meant END could be his most formidable opponent to date, aside from maybe Acnologia.  

Acnologia…  all the hairs along his arm tingle.  The evil dragon born of a by-gone slayer era, is another problem that needed solving.  How were they supposed to defeat a dragon that other dragons were afraid of?  He remembered the quaking fear that all the slayers and dragons felt when Acnologia showed up.  Everyone’s panic and trembling emotions were palpable.  That vile creature had disappeared once more, but he’ll no doubt, show up at the worst time.  “Argh!”  Another beautiful part of being in the middle of nowhere, Natsu could scream all he wanted to.  He relaxes his eyelids, letting the feeling of the steam envelop his senses.  

Words unspoken passed between them as he hung his head whilst the tears flowed, and snot dripped.  Lucy held on tight, her arms wrapped around his middle, her face buried in the crook of his back like she’d done the night they’d defeated future Rogue.  Despite his promises to Igneel, Natsu’s heart had shattered and needed to fit back together like a jigsaw puzzle.  He was thankful that Lucy didn’t prod, just allowed him to feel, to process, like she just knew he would come out of this.  Her silent support meant so much to him, and she didn’t even know it.  

“Can we just go home?” he whispers under his breath.  “I’m tired.”

Lucy nods and moves to let go, but Natsu places his hand on her arm.  “To your apartment, just for tonight?  I’d… rather not be alone right now.”

“Sure, Natsu.”  

It was one of the rare occasions that Lucy didn’t kick him out of bed.  Maybe she was too tired.  After a shower, Natsu crawls under the covers.  Her calming scent of strawberry cream providing him some satisfaction, a reassurance that he wasn’t alone, and reminded him he still had a lot to live for.  And as his eyes close, the vision of her sleeping form, so peaceful, sends him off into a dreamless, yet fitful slumber.  

When light filtered through his closed lids the following morning, Natsu opens them to a fully awakened mind despite the pitiful amount of sleep he’d gained.  Through the night, Lucy had latched onto his side, keeping him pinned to his back.  She sighs, mumbling at his minute movements, before licking her lips and drifting away again clutched to his arm.  He exhales, turning to his side to gaze upon her better.  ‘Lucy…’ Natsu sweeps away some tendrils that had fallen over her eyes.  ‘How am I to protect her when I couldn’t even save my father?  How can I protect any of my friends from the dangers coming call?’  It wasn’t a matter of if he could, but a must.  He places a kiss upon her slightly furrowed brow.  ‘I promise you Lucy.  I swear on Igneel I will protect you at any cost!’      

Even though he’d decided that morning to leave on a training quest, he just couldn’t tell her, not in person knowing the pain it might stir back up for both of them.  All he could hope for a week later when he clutched the letter in his hand, that she would understand.  “Wait for me,” he whispers as he places the letter on her coffee table…    

Natsu opens his eyes.  Ugh, why was he dreaming about that now?  He twists his body in the steaming waters to rest his head on his arms on the edge.  How long had he fallen asleep for?  Couldn’t have been long since the position of the moon had only shifted slightly.  Maybe he was feeling a little guilty for leaving that letter the way he had.  It was a copout.  ‘Yeah…’ he sighs, ‘she deserved better from me, but I just couldn’t face her.’  Too late now to do anything about it.

It was almost over; he runs his hand over the new tattoo on his arm, reminiscing about the last 8 months.  All the power condensed in his body thrummed like a child excited to play with their new toy.  But it would have to wait and lay dormant for now.  Until the time was right, behind the symbols it shall remain.  This whole journey was one of self-recovery, through down-right struggles of the heart and mind.  So, unleashing the full power of the Fire Dragon King too early would be a waste of all that he’d fought to attain.  And that was okay, for through this self-discovery Natsu had become a lot stronger.  The control over his element was down to pinpoint accuracy, and whether as a stream of fire or as a conflagration, it was all by his manipulation.  He was giddy about showing this off and according to Happy, the perfect opportunity was coming up in just two months.  All the more reason for him to buckle down and finish his training.          

Lucy had hoped some of her friends would attend the games, even just to watch but no one did.  It was sad to think, ‘I’ve been looking this entire year…’ she breaks down against the wall filled with all the information she’d dug up on her ex-guildmates.  She knew where some were, while others…  Sigh, ‘Still nothing on Natsu.’  There’d been wild rumors that could be him.  Nothing concrete and they were always stories passed along from a friend of a friend.  But it was enough to comfort her sometimes, to know they were still under the same starry skies.  Ugh!  Lucy missed them all so much.  “Well, no point in crying about it tonight,” she laments to Plue.  Tomorrow was the finals, and she needed her sleep.  Lucy steals away to her bed and lets happier dreams bring her solace.            

Ten grueling months has passed by, but they’d made it!  The sun had yet to rise, but the pair arrived just in time to see the last day of the Grand Magic Games tournament.  Natsu turns his nose to the wind, scenting from atop a hill overlooking the large city of Crocus. “Happy, I think Lucy is here!”  

“But, why would she be here?” the Exceed queries.  “Could she be here for the games?”

“Probably.  We should look for her as soon as we can!”

“I thought you’re gonna challenge the winners?”

“Oh right,” Natsu smirks, “Imma go kick their asses and you look for her.”

“Aye sir!!”  

Morning’s light came and Lucy already knew it wouldn’t be very exciting.  The games only stirred up more pain from the loss of her friends and Fairytail, so it took a lot of self-motivation just to care.  Sure, there were exciting moments during the tournament but nothing like the year they won.  All the big guilds, their friends, no one took part this year saying it wasn’t worth it without Fairytail to compete against.  Lucy couldn’t blame them.  She takes one last longing glance at her wall and heads out the door.

‘Such a farce…’ Lucy stood there in the press box bored out of her mind.  Sure, Jason was excited after she’d pointed out Scarmiglione’s plan not only to win but to rake it in with the brokers.  Odds of 100 to 1 would pay out handsomely for anyone that bet on their win.  To her it was cheating and a blight on the games.  But no one had even noticed what they were doing.  Sad.  Then again, with none of the more powerful guilds in attendance, she guessed there wasn’t anyone around who could sense their true power levels except for her.  Surprise, surprise, she rolls eyes.  The crowds all jump to their feet when Scarmiglione’s last opponent falls, but Lucy is just happy it’s over.

But what’s this?  A rumbling murmur filters through the crowds.  She and Jason look over and see a heavily cloaked man walking into the arena.  Who is that?  What is this?!  So much power!  The hairs on her neck stand on edge.  “Evacuate the arena….” She cries out, but…  “Eh!”  The power and heat radiating off of the figure is burning her top off!  “Kiyah!”  Her arms frantically wrap around her bust, forgetting all about the danger.  As the smoke clears enough to see, she sees the culprit.  Her eyes widen.  “Natsu?!!!”

Screams of his name bounce around her.  Everyone is excited to see the slayer!

“Long time no see, Lucy!!!”

She turns around to see the flying Exceed.  “Happy?!!  What are you doing here?”

The other participants rush out to challenge Natsu but when his power and heat spikes even higher, they turn tail and run, screaming monster.  How hot does his power get?!  This was a lot stronger than she remembered him to be!  

The Exceed chuckles, “Natsu always tends to overdo things.”

But by then Lucy had stopped paying attention to the chaos going on around her.  The stadium was melting, members of Scarmiglione were out cold on the arena floor.  And all she could do was stare at the man she’d been wanting to see for so long.  It was really him and not a figment of her imagination!  A deluge of emotions floods her mind so quickly that there is no processing any of it.  Happiness, sadness, anger, nothing.  It was simply, in shock.  

With the rest of the challengers running in fear, Natsu finally realizes something.  He looks up and they lock eyes for a moment.  So fired up from his entrance, he’d almost forgotten she was here.  

“Yo!” his grin so wide it covers from ear to ear.  “Been a while, huh?  Lucy!”

Same old Natsu, she sighs, what had she expected?  With a crinkle of her eyes and a softening of her expression.  “How’ve you been?”