#ah well; at least if he's got the power moon then that's less chance of bowser straight up ditching him lol

[snowyfrostshadows]

Please read Super Bowuigi Odyssey by @theonceoverthinker

It's so good guys.

[murdockdevil-newblog]

five times + rain (for whatever ship you think of first)

Title: 7 times rain. Prompt: 5 times + rain. sent by rhi <3 Who: A Bunch of OCS and the Hargr/eeves Siblings. Fandom: The Umb/rella Ac/ademy Notes: A mixed bag of friendships, enemies, and lovers in the rain. Words: 1, 580 words. oof. Also I do not own 'Unwritten', Sid's just quoting it. I wrote this for fun and there are probably some inaccuracies since I haven't touched this fandom in a while. BUT I wanted to write it.

1.

The Moon.

One of Ophelia's favorite topics is the Moon. So the fact that Luther's been there, and lived there once before, has her asking him questions about The Moon whenever she gets the chance.

"Does it rain on the moon, Luther?" she asks him, as they walk through the city, him holding an umbrella over her head while he gets wet since the umbrella can't cover them both due to his height.

"No, it doesn't rain on the moon. I don't think the atmosphere's right," he responds to her, picking her up slightly and then putting her down so she avoids stepping in a puddle of water.

"Ah, alright then…that makes sense. I've never seen photos of it raining on the moon. But I had to ask because it's raining here on Earth, now." She smiles up at him, amused by the fact that he's drenched from the rainwater just so she can stay dry. "Thank you for answering my silly little questions." She gently uses her fist to playfully punch him on his side and then smiles.

2.

The rain makes it hard for Carmen to see her next target. While she knows that they'll be a simple target, and they'll be a lot of fun to take down, she hates the fact that it's raining. It bothers her to be all wet. She, like a cat, hates to be inconvenienced by wet clothes and clouded vision and wishes it would rain on any day except for today.

She wishes even less that her target hadn't caught the eye of someone else — the eye of one Diego Hargreeves.

"Oh, Gods — not you, Number Two," she groans, refusing to call him by his name and instead calling him by the name she had heard his father call him as a child, just because it bothers him. "Can't you ruin someone else's drug bust?" Carmen glares at him through the rain, and he just gives her a proud smirk.

"Wish I could say I had better things to do, but I don't. I feel like you — you do though." He chimes in, making him her problem as she looks down at her target and not him.

She then runs off to her target, Diego following after her in the rain, her hair clinging to her skin. She's about to tell him to fuck off, but without thinking, she tackles him. In turn, that pushes down her target with him, and both he and the target slide due to the water.

Wow, she doesn't hate the rain after all.

3.

Johnny doesn't like that Allison has to occasionally Rumor her way into things to get what she wants. He doesn't question whether she's Rumored him, because he trusts her, but he thinks she deserves the world. The fact that she has to get it with a superpower is ridiculous to him. She should just get things. Or at least, that's how he sees it. He's a man in love though. A man in awe.

Her brother Klaus says he's Vagmatized — whatever the Hell that means — and Johnny thinks that's bullshit. He thinks that he just thinks she shouldn't have to force her way into getting her needs met.

And as it rains outside and they're in bed, he can't help but to tell her, "I don't think it's a big deal — the fact that you Rumor people to get what you want. I think if anyone had your power they'd do the same."

He pushes a piece of her dark hair to the side of her face, and she kisses him lightly. Claire's with Klaus, so as it rains, they have they the whole house to themselves. "It doesn't make it right. I've learned that the hard way," she admits, "And I got you without having to Rumor you. Which says it all."

Johnny smiles and kisses her again. It thunders loud and he laughs. "Well, guess it's not cheesy for me to say that I heard a rumor that we stayed in bed all day, then?" he teases, copying her wording.

Allison rolls her eyes, before running her hand over his face. "Only if you avoid saying that ever again."

4.

Sidney dances in the rain and Klaus dances with her. Her mouth opens, tongue out, to taste the rainwater on her tongue, and the taste is to die for — either that or she's just excited to Natasha Bedingfield that shit and feel the rain on her skin. She's having a blast with Klaus and is happy that they're friends. Happy that they can have fun together.

"This is great you, know?" Sidney says with a smile. "So great that if the world ended right now, I wouldn't complain."

Klaus winces like she's just said something that could happen. "The world's always ending. There's a new apocalypse every week. May as well enjoy the rain on your skin, cause no one else can feel it for you and only you can let it in."

Sidney pauses and Klaus pauses. They both stare at each other through a rain-soaked vision. Then they laugh at him quoting Natasha.

"That's bullshit," Sidney says.

"Feel the rain on your skin," Klaus responds.

Sid laughs harder and kisses him.

5.

Marta watches Five as he sits cross-legged on top of a table, clearly disobeying etiquette rules and making her feel normal about how she acts while in front of other people. From the serious, vengeful look he's giving the coffee Diego has brought him, she can tell he's in his seventies and not his twenties like he appears.

"Why are you looking at the coffee like that?" she asks him, eyebrow rising as she gestures towards it. "Did he do some sort of Hargreeves prank to it? You do know if he poisoned it, you're immune to at least 100 different poisons due to your training, right?" She's teasing, clearly.

He gets that, because he looks a little less serious, even though he still appears angry with the cup of coffee. "I'm afraid it's not the type of poisoning I can be immune to." He says matter-of-factly. "Taste it."

He picks it up and hands it to her. She takes it fast and takes a sip. "It tastes fine to me," she replies.

"That's the problem. I don't take my coffee with cream ooor sugar and you do. It's what the kids call 'trash'. "

The sound of rain can be heard from where they are in the kitchen and as Marta thinks of what to say she can hear it. "I see. Well, I can drink it, since it's not a prank. And, then, I can make you another cup that tastes like it packs a punch?"

He nods firmly. "Good idea." He then stops to glare at where the coffee cup had been. but says nothing. Marta rolls her eyes. [7:32 PM]

Leyla does not have super powers but she is psychic. She's always been psychic and has been able to see ghosts since she was a little girl. Usually, the ghosts are a bunch of needy a-holes though. So, when she meets Ben through Klaus, she's surprised by how fun and kind he is.

And though, usually, she can't see him away from the Hargreeves residence. Or away from Klaus, she can see him today as she sits in her living room watching a zombie apocalypse film.

"I can't believe you like stuff like this. I expected this sort of thing from Klaus, but you? A sophisticated woman — liking fake blood and gratuitous violence?" Ben teases, making her laugh.

"Hey, I'll have you know that this is a classic. There's nothing wrong with loving a monster movie. At the end of this one, the main zombie had a bad headache and that's why it was going so insane. It — or rather, they — never wanted to hurt anyone in the first place." She throws a popcorn kernel that goes right through him, reminding her that he's a ghost and almost making her go 'oh'.

"Do you always watch movies like this when it's raining?" he asks, sincerely, leaning forward to hear her answer and snapping her out of her realization.

"I watch movies like this all the time." She nods firmly, then says. "But on rainy days, I watch more than one." [7:32 PM]

Bianca has kept things casual with Viktor. She loves him though. She just isn't stupid enough to tell him that. She knows telling him that will ruin a good thing, and she can't do that because they're both happy with each other because they're both free to do as they please.

The only difference is, as it rains today — the pitter-patter of the rain against Bianca's roof echoing through the room — she can feel the energy shift as Viktor walks through the room in a button-up shirt and boxer briefs.

"Do you want to try something…serious?" he asks, coolly, his hands in his pockets as he looks at her.

Bianca's quiet for a moment, but then she thinks about how her life's changed since Viktor's moved to town. And how happy she's become. So, she can't help but answer with a simple, "Yeah, yeah — I'd like that. I don't see why not."

Viktor gets his cup of coffee and then passes it to her. Right before he grabs his own and drinks from his glass.

They both smile at each other knowingly. Then, after they go and spend the rainy day in bed.

[rex101111]

Wheee it's prompts time I love prompts time. I'm gonna try and give you something a little difficult, how about Happy Chaos and 'pleasant'

He watches the sunset, rolling his shoulders. The sand is warm under his bare feet. He considers the situation.

Well, the situation, on the grand scheme of things, was that the planet was turning and that the sun was dying, but that was just the state of affairs that ran circles in his head for the past century or so and would never ever stop, so it wasn't worth getting caught up on.

On the smaller, more tangibly immediate side of things, he had done his part, fulfilled his deal with I-no. So, he was basically free to do what he pleased...well, he was free to do that earlier, sure, but that would have been rude. And, more importantly, it would have been significantly less dramatic.

Thinking of I-no made him concentrate on the flow of magic around him....nnnnope, still normal. It got a bit of a bump for a few hot minutes, the world and the people in it screaming as the power to grant wishes landed on their heads...but then it was gone.

Huh. Well. That's a shame. Did she ever find "Tomorrow"? Or would he have to wait until the next day to find out? Well, not that it mattered either way. He did his part.

He flexed his toes, the sand crunching between them. The feeling is...nice, like a warm glass of calpico.

Should he go after Asuka? He probably should, considering the history, it would be dramatic at the very least...but...hmm, if he knew his student as much as he thought he did, chances are he's on the moon...well, one thing at a time.

He sat down, the waves lapping at the sand a few feet away from him. There wasn't another sound for miles, not even any crabs scurrying around. There was just him, the sand, and the waves.

He could feel, if he concentrated, a tiny but razor sharp spike of killing intent being directed at him from a particular corner of the world. That would be...Delilah and the samurai. Ah, how nostalgic. Burning houses, a hole in the ocean, a pile of dust where a brother was. Oh the dra-nah. No. At least not for now. He could always make a surprise visit, really put that new found sense of restraint to the test. But later. If he wanted to.

...did he want to?

Did he want to do anything now? He made that big dramatic speech about being a straw doll with no desires of his own, and at the moment it felt right, felt like it was true. Because he was on a mission and Asuka was hiding like a rat somewhere he couldn't reach and wasn't that just appropriate? But now? On the sand?

He leaned back and looked up. His back pressed against the sand. It itched, in a vague, non-obstrusive sort of way. It was easy to ignore...it was...nice, even. In an odd way.

Slowly, slowly as it ever did, the sun sank under the horizon, as he looked up at the darkening skies, and looked between the stars for a desire he knew he would never find.

[pitviperofdoom]

Me: I’ve got some time and motivation on my hands! Maybe I should work on one of my immediate projects, like putting the finishing touches on my RQBB piece, or making some headway on my TMA BB piece, or editing the next chapter of the DND AU...

Me: *writes a 5k opener for an au that’s basically The Owl House*

------

“Again.”

Jon held still and kept his eyes shut. Everything ached, his head most of all; the slightest movement sent lightning bolts of pain through his skull. Even now it throbbed like a quiet threat behind his closed eyes.

“Get up, Jon.”

He couldn’t. He was done. Wasn’t that obvious?

“I don’t have time to indulge you. I know you can do more. Now get up.”

He couldn’t.

“Open your eyes, Jonathan.”

That was a simpler request, at least. He could do that much, couldn’t he? He could open his eyes. It barely counted as moving.

Dutifully, Jon forced his eyelids apart. Punishment was swift; this time the pain was so intense that he couldn’t even scream, only curl up tighter on the floor with a strangled whimper. The polished tiles were cold against his face, but they did little to soothe the ache. Warm liquid trickled from his closed eyes; when had he started crying?

Across the room, Jonah sighed. “Already? We’ve barely scratched the surface, Jon. I expected another hour from you, at minimum.” Footsteps echoed against the floor, and Jon tensed in spite of the pain, but the hands that picked him up were gentle. “Come now. Our work is too important for me to indulge you like this. For Titan’s sake, your endurance was better when you were a mere child.”

Jon kept his eyes shut, and hated the part of himself that wanted to curl up again, apologize, and promise to do better. The ache was beginning to recede, just barely, but he kept his eyes shut. If he opened them too soon, then Jonah would take it as a sign that he wasn’t as tired as he behaved.

“Can you make your own way back?” Jonah asked, steadying him by the shoulders. “Or do you need help?”

Jon’s blood ran cold. That was a dangerous question. If he chose to go under his own power, then Jonah might change his mind about letting him stop. But he didn’t want help. His limbs felt like wet clay, and there wasn’t a single muscle in his body that didn’t hurt, but at least they were still his.

“I—” HIs voice cracked in his dry throat. “I can—I can make my own way. Th-thank you, Jonah.” He held his breath.

After far too long for comfort, Jonah sighed again, heavy with disappointment. “Alright, Jon. Get some rest. We’ll do better in the morning.”

“Yes, Jonah,” Jon replied, faint with relief, and waited.

He was met with silence.

“Have you changed your mind?” Jonah said, after a moment. “If you’d like to continue…”

“No,” Jon replied. “No, I’m—thank you. For letting me stop. Just…” He held his hands out in a blind plea. “It’s my eyes, so I need…”

“Ah, of course, how could it have slipped my mind?” He heard a faint rustle from Jonah’s robe, before warm, smooth wood was pressed into his waiting hands. Jon swallowed another sob of relief. “There you are, then.”

“Thank you,” Jon repeated, and turned toward where he hoped the exit was.

The shape in his hands shifted. Smooth wood became downy softness, before the feeling left his hands and landed gently against his face. Soft wings brushed his cheeks, tiny legs grasped the bridge of his nose, and the world returned to him.

He hadn’t opened his eyes, but he could see the room once more: the library’s main room, a vast space where he and Jonah did most of their work. He could see Jonah as well, watching him with the weary patience of a parent indulging a child’s tantrum.

Jon looked away, muttered his thanks again, and limped out of the room.

Even with a closed door between them, the weight of Jonah’s scrutiny never left. Not helping the matter was the wallpaper that, currently, was openly tracking his progress through the countless eyes hidden in the intricate pattern.

That was the downside to navigating with these eyes; when he used his own, he couldn’t see the Beholding that soaked every nook and cranny of the manor. At least then he could pretend that closed doors and distance meant something.

It was a long way from the research wing to his quarters—their quarters—and Jon had to pause several times for a moment’s rest. By the time he reached the last flight of stairs, he was shaking from exhaustion, and strongly considering the benefits of simply curling up in a corner of the hallway and falling asleep on the floor. Jonah certainly kept the carpets plush enough.

His borrowed vision went hazy for a moment, and soft wings beat gently against his face. Jon braced himself against the wall as another powerful headache washed over him, closed eyes be damned. His face was wet with tears again.

“Alright,” he murmured. “Alright. Just a bit farther.”

The mask of wings left his face in a sudden flurry of beating, leaving him blind again. Jon bit back a cry of alarm and stayed where he was, leaning against the wall. He wouldn’t leave—surely he wouldn’t. He’d be back. Maybe he was just…

Before he could work himself into a proper panic, he heard the door at the top of the stairs creak open. Familiar footsteps came tumbling down the steps.

“Fuck, Jon,” a familiar, wonderfully welcome voice breathed out, and Gerry caught him before he could fall.

Jon made the rest of the journey leaning heavily against him, blind and trusting. He could feel gentle puffs of air against his face, fluttering wings that didn’t quite touch, and smiled gratefully.

Eventually Gerry deposited him in a chair and went to retrieve something—from the potions stand, going by the clatter of glass vials. Less than a minute later, one of them was pressed into his hand.

“Here. Need help drinking?”

Jon shook his head. “I can manage. Thanks.” He downed the potion and was rewarded by a receding headache. His eyelids were so sticky that he had to massage them open, and his vision came back in blurry patches, one piece of the room at a time: A single table and chair by the kitchenette. Two beds shoved together in the far corner. The sparsest alchemy array on the Isles. Gerry's face, watching him with open concern.

"Do you know how much you lost?" Gerry asked.

"What?"

Gerry gestured to his face, and Jon mirrored the motion until he found rough, sticky stains streaked down his face. He was confused until some of it crumbled off at his touch, and he looked down to find flecks of congealed blood clinging to his fingertips. "That's probably not good."

"Yeah, Jon," Gerry sighed, short and forceful with held back anger. "Probably isn't." He moved off to the kitchenette, and returned moments later with a damp towel.

Jon cleaned his face, sighing in relief at the coolness against the lingering ache. He put the now-soiled towel aside, eyes finally clear, and caught the briefest glimpse of amber eye spots on coppery wings before their owner alighted gently on the side of his head.

"Yes, of course," he said, reaching up to stroke one of the moth's large downy wings. His familiar nuzzled his finger in return. "Thank you, Atlas."

"He alright?" Gerry asked grimly, already checking the moth for any sign of damage.

"Jonah had him for the entire session," Jon replied. "No overt threats today, he just… didn't let him go until we were finished. So. Could be worse."

"Could be a lot better," Gerry muttered.

It will be, he carefully didn't say. Soon, it will be.

It wasn't safe to talk like that. Not here. Not yet.

After Gerry coaxed food into him, Jon crawled beneath the covers and curled up as small as he could manage. Patched and mended blankets didn’t offer any more protection than the walls of this place, but huddling in the dark made it easier to pretend that Jonah couldn’t see him here. It was the only way he could make himself sleep, these days.

When he awoke to Gerry’s gentle shaking, Jon found that he hadn’t moved so much as a finger in his sleep.

Without a word, he slipped out from under the blanket. The light in their quarters was dimming as twilight approached. Gerry barely glanced up from the book he was reading at the table as Jon shuffled to the kitchenette and the kettle.

Casting the spell was a simple matter of well-practiced sleight of hand, disguised beneath mundane activities. One spell circle traced idly by Gerry’s finger against the page as he turned it, the other drawn in the air as Jon waved away the steam. They never did it the same way twice, nor with any regularity by day or week or month. If it became a pattern, then Jonah might catch it.

The spell slipped into place smoothly, with none of the clumsy ripples of their earliest attempts, and Jon let out a shaky sigh. They had to assume that Jonah was always watching—but now, if he was, all he would see was Gerry reading at the table, and Jon drinking tea at the kitchenette. It was a routine they had set long ago. It was exactly what Jonah would expect to see.

Titan willing, it would be enough. They couldn’t afford to slip up now.

“It’s almost ready,” Gerry assured him. “Everything’s in place. All we have to do is wait for the moon’s alignment to power it.”

Jon ran his hand absently over his arm, scratching at the pockmark scars that dotted his skin. Some of the ingredients had cost them dearly to procure. They likely wouldn’t get another chance on any of them.

When he looked at Gerry again, his friend was watching him with something indescribably soft in his face. “It’ll work, Jon.”

“And if we’re caught?” Jon blurted. “We can’t hide this ritual behind false visions. He’ll sense it no matter what his eyes tell him.”

“Once it’s cast, it won’t matter,” Gerry said with grim satisfaction. “We’ll have our out. And where it leads, Jonah won’t have any of the power he does here.”

Jon took a deep, shaky breath, and nodded. His hands curled and uncurled at his sides, nails digging deep into his palms.

Gerry’s eyes never left him. “What’s on your mind?”

Swallowing against the thickness in his throat, Jon struggled to find an answer. “Is it—is it wrong that I’m afraid?”

“Jon, no—”

“I didn’t want to be here,” Jon went on. “I never wanted—ever since I came here, I’ve wanted to leave. And now we finally have a chance. Why am I afraid?” Gerry opened his mouth like he was about to reply, but Jon couldn’t have stopped himself if he tried. “It’s not like I’m safe here. Today wasn’t even that bad, compared to… it wasn't that bad.” A bitter, ragged laugh tore itself from his throat. "He pushed me until I bled from my eyes, and he was happy to keep pushing, and all I can think is it wasn't that bad. Why am I afraid to leave?" His voice trailed off. Atlas’s wings fluttered against his head, mirroring his agitation.

Instead of answering, Gerry held out his arms. Jon walked into them without hesitation.

“You were a kid.” With his head on Gerry’s shoulder, his hand to his heart, and Gerry’s arms holding him close, Jon felt surrounded by his friend’s voice.

“I was nearly eighteen,” Jon protested. “Hardly a child.”

“I’m just saying, you’ve been here too long not to be scared of what’s out there,” Gerry reminded him. “And it’s not like we’re escaping out the front door. We don’t really know what we’ll find on the other side.”

Jon’s hand curled into a fist against Gerry’s chest, and his other arm tightened around him. If they did this right, then their exit strategy would dump them into an entirely new world, of which Jon had only ever read old books or heard second and third-hand stories. A fresh wave of apprehension seized him.

Not for the first time, he let himself be desperately, pathetically grateful that he wasn’t doing this alone.

“Can you keep it together?” Gerry asked, still quietly gentle. “I just—I know you’re scared. I’m scared too. But I can’t do this alone. This is a two-person job at least, and—”

“Of course.” Reluctantly, Jon pulled back to look him in the eye. “I’m not going to give up at the last moment. You can rely on me.”

Gerry smiled. That was a rare thing, these days. All the more reason not to lose his nerve. Once they got out, Jon was going to spend the rest of their lives giving Gerry every reason to keep doing it.

“I know,” Gerry replied. “Now come on. Let’s finish prepping before we run out of twilight.”

***

“You know,” Gerry whispered late at night, as Jon settled himself into the curve of his body. “By the time I left home, I’d passed up five chances to escape.”

Jon listened in silence. He was never quite sure what to say when Gerry talked about how he grew up. Nothing felt like the right thing to say. Luckily, Gerry never seemed to expect him to say anything at all.

“Those are just the ones I was looking out for, at the time,” Gerry went on. “Couldn’t tell you how many I just didn’t see.”

“You were a kid,” Jon murmured back.

Gerry scoffed into Jon’s hair, and Jon smiled. “Don’t you turn my words back on me. How dare you.” A moment later, “But… you’re not wrong. I was a kid. She was all I knew. I didn’t know who I was without her.”

Safely out of Gerry’s line of vision, Jon allowed himself a thoughtful frown. It was different for him, wasn’t it? Gerry had been born his mother’s son, but Jon had been someone before he was Jonah’s… whatever he was. Student, research assistant, test subject, prisoner.

Before, he’d been the son of parents he barely remembered. He’d been the grandson of a woman who did her best until he drove her to give up on him, and a coven leader came to her with a kind smile and a promise to take away her burden. And now…

And now he wasn’t any of that. Because there wasn’t anything for him to go back to. The only way out was forward, into the unknown.

“I figured it out in the end,” Gerry told him. “You will too. I know you will.”

“I might need help with that,” Jon admitted. “I could use your expertise.”

A soft huff of laughter jostled him. “I’m gonna be in the same boat as you, you know? I’ve never been to the human world.”

“You still know more about it than me,” Jon pointed out.

Gerry was quiet for a moment. “He didn’t tell you anything?” he asked eventually. “It didn’t take much to get him talking, when I was running around with him.”

“Only a few things. His family, his brother, some of his favorite foods. It was all we had time for before we parted ways.”

“Ah, that’s a shame,” Gerry sighed. “The human world sounds amazing—if even half the things he told me about were even real.”

Jon laughed softly. “I know what you mean. Can you imagine someone actually swimming in the ocean? It would strip the flesh clean off your bones.”

“Not if the water’s cold and non-corrosive. Which it apparently is. People swim in the ocean all the time. It’s a thing. They take their kids and everything.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” Jon stifled a yawn.

“It was weird, you know?” Gerry went on. “The things he’d talk about like they were nothing. Sometimes he’d say just the wildest thing, and he’d look at me like I was crazy when I didn’t know what the hell he was talking about.”

“Like what?”

“Hmm… trying to think of one I haven’t told you before…” Gerry hesitated. “Did I tell you about how mornings in the human realm just… make water?”

“You mentioned something about the rainwater being cold,” Jon replied.

“No no, this is different. Titan, how did he explain it…” Gerry hummed thoughtfully. “Something about how, when it’s cold enough, everything’s covered in little droplets of water in the morning. The air just… does that. Makes water out of nothing.”

“I’m sure there’s more to it than that.”

“Can’t remember,” Gerry admitted. “He showed me a picture, though. Water droplets on a spiderweb. Looked like tiny little diamonds. Dunno what kind of face I was making, but he laughed at me.”

“Rude,” Jon murmured.

“Still not sure I believe it.”

“Maybe we’ll see it for ourselves. One day.” One day very, very soon.

Gerry’s only reply was to run gentle fingers through Jon’s hair, again and again, until Jon finally fell asleep.

***

The moon sat at its apex, round and bright and wreathed in blue fire that seemed to dim the stars around it. It was the first thing Jon saw when Gerry gently shook him awake.

He stirred, wincing when his movements jarred his injuries. Most of the day had been devoted to Jonah’s experiments, and Jon had fresh wounds to prove it. The burns on his face would heal without scarring, but his right hand was still wrapped in liniment-soaked bandages. Jon avoided putting any weight on it as he rose to a sitting position and pushed back the blanket. The sight of the moon, burning brightly in celestial alignment, chased away any lingering weariness.

They cast their usual cloaking spell with less caution than usual. It was only a stopgap measure at best, a few minutes’ safety to get everything in place. The table, chair, and alchemy set were pushed aside to clear the floor. With steadier hands—Jonah had been focused on Jon today, leaving Gerry a day of respite—Gerry borrowed Jon’s staff to draw the circle. Atlas alighted on his place at the top of the staff, colors fading as he shifted back into wood, and the symbols glowed brighter. Jon fetched each component from their hiding places around the room, and began laying them out amid the lines that Gerry was tracing.

They worked quickly, not speaking, barely breathing. For all their planning, there had been no time to practice. They would get only one chance, and no more.

And so, there was no time or opportunity to brace themselves before Gerry drew the last line, and Jon poured the last drop of Titan blood, and the circle caught the moonfire blazing through the open window.

The spell ignited, and the sheer force of clashing power nearly knocked them both off their feet. Their flimsy cloaking spell shattered, exposing them to Jonah’s sight, but it was far too late to turn back.

Jon had barely regained his footing when his own magic, coursing through the spell circle alongside Gerry’s, was caught in the moonlight’s amplifying effect. For a single, glorious moment, for the first time in years, Jon felt magic—wild magic, covenless magic—coursing through him. He smelled fire and earth and sea air, felt wind against his face, sensed the distant light of stars above them, tasted blood in the back of his throat as drumbeats pounded in his ears. Every sensation rushed him at once, melding together into a storm of color and music. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever felt.

And then the coven brand on his arm blazed, burning away the storm until only the Beholding remained.

It seized him mercilessly, knowledge clamoring its way into his head all at once. It was a confusing mess, so many sights and sounds and thoughts that he couldn’t have picked out a single one among them. But in the end he adjusted, the stream became more focused, and his mind was his own once more.

At the center of the circle, a seam formed in the fabric of the world. It split neatly down the length of it, opening wide into a ragged doorway.

Jon’s heart leapt. They had been planning this for years, researching in secret, sneaking and lying and stealing to get the components together, and yet—only now did he realize that he had never expected it to actually work. The fact that it had, that freedom lay only a few steps from where he stood, was as exhilarating as it was terrifying.

Jonah was on his way, he realized absently. It wasn’t just the inevitability of it; even without his focus on the river of knowledge flowing through him, he couldn’t help but catch a few drops. One of them showed their captor flying up the stairs toward their quarters, wild-eyed and intent.

“Gerry,” he said. “We have to—”

Another scrap of knowledge slipped into his mind, like a dagger between his ribs.

“Jon?” Gerry’s voice sounded far away. Everything was suddenly muffled, even the portal. Even the Beholding, swollen with moonlight, felt far away. The whole world was contained in a single, inescapable truth.

“We can’t.” The words slipped from Jon’s mouth. His hand closed on Gerry’s arm. “Gerry, we can’t.”

“Jon, let go, the portal’s right—”

“It won’t work.” Jon squeezed his arm. “It won’t—there’s not enough power. It’s not stable enough for both of us. As soon as one of us goes through, the spell will fall apart and the portal will close. It won’t work.”

Gerry stared back at him, face suffused with dismay.

Dismay, but not surprise.

Jon’s heart sank like a stone in mud. “You knew.”

“Jon, there’s no time for this, now let go—” He was pulling away, prying Jon’s fingers from his arm, and the portal was within his reach, and Jonah was so close to their door.

“You knew,” he repeated. “How long have you known? How long have you been lying?”

“I had no choice!” Gerry shouted over the crackling, ringing din of the spell. “There was no other way! What was I supposed to do, sit here while both of us wasted away? What other chance was either of us going to get?”

The worst part was, Jon couldn’t bring himself to be surprised, or even all that angry, really. Of course this was going to happen. It was simply the culmination of his entire life, thus far. His parents, his old friends, his grandmother—and now Gerry.

Maybe it was just his lot to be left behind.

Across the room, the door rattled. Jonah called to them from the other side. Jon barely heard either.

“I…” His throat grew thick. “I understand.”

“Jon, I’m sorry,” Gerry said desperately. “I wish there was another way.”

“No, I—” He really shouldn’t be crying. This was a happy thing, after all. Gerry was going to be free. “At least—even if it’s just one of us—”

Gerry smiled through his own tears. “I’m really gonna miss you,” he said.

“It’s not fair,” Jon blurted out. “We were supposed to go together. We were supposed to see it together!”

“When has any of this ever been fair?”

Tears gathered in his eyes until Jon blinked them away. His last sight of Gerry should be a clear one. “Please don’t forget me.”

The door rattled again, and Gerry choked back a sob. “Fuck. I could never. You’re not the sort of person anyone just forgets.”

Before Jon could reply, Gerry lunged forward. Not toward the portal, not toward freedom, but to Jon. The kiss was fast and clumsy with desperation, but the hands against the sides of his face were ruthlessly gentle.

“I love you,” Gerry whispered. “Don’t look back.”

Jon blinked back his tears, confusion cutting through the grief. “What?”

Gerry curled Jon’s hands around the staff and threw him into the portal.

He fell through the riot of color and music, too shocked to scream as the image of Gerry shattered into pieces above him. The light winked out, and Jon fell into the emptiness alone.

***

Jon landed hard, though not nearly hard enough for how long he must have been falling.

He lay in darkness and silence, wheezing softly as he regained his breath, gripping his staff until his fingers went numb and his injured hand screamed in protest. The air was cold and smelled stale. The light show from the portal was gone, but he could still feel its power humming beneath his skin, threatening to burst free.

After a while, Jon gathered himself enough to roll over. The floor felt like stone beneath his hands, relatively smooth but unpolished. With a grunt of effort, Jon planted his staff on the ground and pulled himself to his feet. It was too dark to see well when he opened his eyes, so he felt along the length of the staff until he found the shape of wooden moth wings at the end.

“Atlas?” His voice rasped in his chest. The wood turned to soft chitin, and Atlas took off from the head of the staff to flutter in frantic circles around his head, buffeting him gently when he flew too close. “Yes, yes—it’s alright. We’re alright.”

Atlas landed on his shoulder, and Jon’s eyes adjusted.

Was this the human world? For all he knew, the portal might have simply dropped him elsewhere in the demon realm. He was in a room, possibly a basement, judging by the clutter. Boxes sat in stacks and piles, some of them too full to close properly. Indistinct objects sat against the walls—an old mirror, frames wrapped in thick brown paper, a tall wooden clock that didn’t seem to be working. A thick layer of dust blanketed everything, untouched by fingerprints or footsteps.

He was alone.

Of course he was alone, he’d seen the portal break apart as soon as he fell into it, with Gerry still on the other side. Jonah had been seconds from breaking the door down, and now—

A harsh sob took him by surprise, and tears blinded him all over again.

Jonah had never set a clear punishment for escaping. And now, whatever it was, Gerry was facing it alone.

They weren’t supposed to be alone, they were never supposed to be alone. It shouldn’t have been him going through the portal, it should have been Gerry, why couldn’t have been Gerry, why couldn’t Gerry have been selfish for once in his life—

A distant scream rang out, shocking him out of his tears. Jon stared around, wide-eyed and searching, but the room was still. Then the ceiling shook with a crash, drawing his eyes upward.

“It’s above us,” he murmured. “Stairs—we need to find stairs.” Atlas took off from his shoulder, eye spots glowing in the gloom.

With an extra set of eyes, Jon found the stairs within a minute. He ran up them, his brand warming as he loosened the leash on his swollen magic. The door at the top of the steps was locked, but he Knew within seconds where to find a key. Atlas vanished from his side and returned moments later, clutching it in all six of his legs.

The door opened to an unlit hallway. Jon hesitated, took one last look back at the dark and cluttered basement, and hurried on.

He could hear more, now that he was really listening for it. Running footsteps, multiple sets by the sound of it. Shouting, always muffled and bitten-off, as if whoever was doing it was trying very hard not to. There were people in trouble—this was the human world, wasn’t it? Was it as hostile as the demon realm after all?

The hallway ended and took him up another flight of stairs. He expected to see light at some point, either artificial or from the windows. The last time he saw the moon, it had nearly blinded him. But instead, the darkness of the stairwell only seemed to grow thicker as he ascended, and reaching the door at the top did nothing to abate it.

At the very least, what he could see of the room he stepped out into looked more like the ground floor. There were proper floorboards, high ceilings, and windows that only showed faint outlines of trees against a dark, starless sky. The house was unlit, and his eyes refused to adjust. Jon drew a quick spell circle on his forehead with one fingertip, and magic poured into his eyes to light the way.

Shouting rang out again from somewhere above. Jon raced to follow it.

Around him, the house was in the slow process of falling apart. Ornate wallpaper hung faded and peeling, shreds of old rugs showed the ragged remains of color and embroidery, and broken shards of wood protruded from walls and doorways alike, as if any ornamentation set into them had been ripped out long ago. This must have been a fine-looking house once, but now it was a crumbling wreck.

Eventually the hallway opened up to another dilapidated chamber, this one a rotting front hall with its doors still standing ajar. Opposite them, the sagging remains of a grand staircase led up to another floor.

Jon had nearly reached the foot of it when he spotted movement at the top of the steps, and his vision went black.

For a split second he thought he’d lost consciousness, but the floor remained firmly beneath his feet. His breath came in short bursts of alarm as he drew another spell circle for sight in the darkness, to no avail.

Jon settled his grip on the staff, wincing at the pain in his burned hand. The bad news was, nothing that simple was going to let him see through this darkness. The good news was, it meant he knew what he was dealing with. He should have figured it out as soon as he left the basement and saw how dark it was. Stupid.

He could hear the others. Their running footsteps had fallen still, but the sound of panicked breathing was unmistakable. Someone was whimpering in pain with each breath. Someone else was whispering frantic reassurances. The darkness swallowed up everything else.

Jon hardly had to reach for his magic. It was brimming all the way to the surface, swollen from the storm of half-wild magic that had brought him here. When he drew a spell circle in the air with a tight whirl of his staff, it all came boiling up and out like a geyser.

Eyes opened everywhere—in Jon’s face and neck, along the length of his staff, in Atlas’s wooden face and wings, and in the choked air all around him. The darkness burned away as quick and clean as thin paper, revealing the scene before him.

There were three people now at the foot of the stairs, in such a state of panicked disarray that Jon could hardly tell whether they’d run or fallen down them. The larger of the two men had the others pushed behind him, backing away from the creature that menaced them, all three of them too frozen in terror to even attempt to cast a spell.

In spite of the glowing eyes that lit the room, a single wriggling mass of darkness remained, crawling and twitching toward its prey with wispy feelers that reached out to touch them. Sour air wafted from its body, filling the room with the smell of rot.

An acid shade. Nasty, hateful things that hunted prey by blinding it, then dissolving it while it was still alive. One touch was enough to melt the skin off your hand. Gerry still had scars from his last encounter with one.

Gerry.

The eyes blazed, and for the first time the brightness touched the shade’s slick hide. It recoiled, convulsing with a sound that was not a scream, but close enough.

Jon didn’t remember crossing the room, but he stood between the writhing mass of shadows and its would-be victims, so he must have. Fear warred with wild, directionless anger. He missed Gerry and hated Jonah. He remembered the feeling of lips on his, and the sight of his only friend weeping as his image shattered. Jon took all of it, gathered up every last drop, and poured it all into the merciless light of his swollen magic. He gave it all of himself, until it was blinding, until he could See every part of the room he stood in, down to every last crack in the walls, down to every convulsing wisp of darkness that made up the shade.

It let out another not-scream as it was utterly, agonizingly Seen.

And then it was gone, and Jon’s last drop of magic trickled out and left him hollow.

The darkness returned—not a demonic creature this time, but regular unconsciousness creeping up on him. He fought it as he turned and looked back at the faces of the people he’d saved. A round-faced man, so pale that his freckles stood out in his face; a woman with wide eyes and dark hair in disarray; and the second man clutching a corrosive burn that covered his arm, whose face—

—whose face Jon recognized.

“Danny?” Half-blind, Jon struggled to focus as the world grew smaller, and the darkness overtaking it nearly obscured the look of shock on the man’s face. “You found your way home?”

He lost his grip on consciousness before he could hear the answer.

[in-tua-deep]

Hufflepuff Five is so good! Are the Hargreeves lives as students as adventurous like the main crew from HP? What about the Ministry of Magic? Would they get involved if someone caught wind of the sibling’s powers that weren’t just magic?

Their lives are SO wack honestly like, they just vibe. They just are going through their magical youth being absolute feral children who don’t trust adults as far as they can throw them while trying to hide their weird funky powers and also ravenously going through magical feats like they’re going out of style

Luther is every sibling’s go-to practice partner because apparently durability extends to being like? Slightly magic resistant? Basically if you hit Luther with a spell it will only be like, maybe half power? So the siblings use him as a magical shield half the time and an experiment the other half and Luther just Suffers Through This until it all goes wrong and he ends up as a werewolf, oops

(But at least Ben is alive! Honestly the only reason Luther wasn’t straight up mauled to death was a combo of his durability, Ben’s proficiency in healing magic, and Ben managing to befriend the acromantulas)

(Luther eventually gets a sense of humor about this after long years of working on accepting himself and constantly threatens to bite his siblings or makes comments about them looking extra tasty when they irritate him)

Allison is a quidditch star, super popular and athletic as all hell. She probably ends up being the Slytherin team captain, honestly. Allison is all glamor and charisma and in her later years of hogwarts has an absolute blast. Allison is very much functional passing so she’s usually the front man to get the professors off their backs, but she also is the front man for a lot of the shit that the family sell for extra spending money. Five and Ben might make potions, but Allison rules the underground black market in slytherin with an iron fist (which gets them into shenanigans involving other kids who Owe Debts)

Diego is on the gryffindor quidditch team and so him and Allison are constantly at each other’s throats on the pitch (Allison sometimes rumors him during matches when she gets within earshot which makes all of the siblings yell at him but she maintains that he gets to use his stupid powers to score points so she should get to as well). Diego gets roped into everything because he’s super soft. He starts a lot of fights because he has vigilante genes so he serves a lot of detentions. His house tolerates him losing them points because the man is a wizard with a quaffle

(Diego and Allison actually practice a lot together, which their respective teams are like HMMMM over but they’re siblings and slytherin knows that Allison would never hesitate to knock Diego off his broom and wave cheerily as he falls to his death, and gryffindor is aware that Diego can, should, and must throw a ball directly at Allison’s dumb face if she gets too close to him because of the Cain Instinct)

(Honestly Allison and Diego do a LOT for interhouse unity, showing that you can still be ride or die for each other while also wanting greatly to kill each other uwu)

Ben is too independent for his own good, which is what gets him into trouble. He likes gardening, and he likes herbs, and sometimes he’s just GOTTA go into the forbidden forest on a full moon to gather these very specific ingredients, c’mon. He also just. Likes spending time in the forbidden forest. He’s Hagrid’s favorite student because he doesn’t bat an eye at all the weird magical creatures, bc homeboy got an eldritch horror in his navel. Ben makes friends with the acromantulas (who have a healthy respect for him after the Horror ate a few of them), patiently avoids the centaurs, and bribes the pixies into giving him their shed wings through liberal application of jam stolen from the Hogwarts kitchens. 

You know what Allison is functional passing and Ben is distinguished passing, all their teachers assume that Ben is the most put together of them but they’re WRONG. They haven’t seen Ben at two in the morning yanking Vanya out of ben because if they don’t break into greenhouse four and help those poor fucking plants the first years are tending to they’re all going to DIE and that’s not fair??? ben is single handedly going to save all those poor plants (and all those first year’s grades)

Vanya is just VIBING, he ends up coming out as trans in fourth year and gets to be roommates with Ben which is pretty sweet. If only Ben didn’t drag him into shenanigans?? All the teachers are like “ah yes Vanya, such a quiet boy not like his siblings at all” but Vanya can will should and must climb onto the roof of the astronomy tower to play his violin because He Just Likes To Be Tall. Vanya once punched a snobby ravenclaw kid in the nose and then stared them down saying “the teachers will never believe you.”

Vanya steals Luther to practice his powers with in unused classrooms the most?? he’s durable. he’ll be fine if Vanya blasts him into a wall with his powers lol

Vanya’s solution to all their problems is “do you want me to blow it up with my powers?” or “do you want me to kill them for you?” 

(All of the siblings now refuse to duel with Vanya except for Luther bc Vanya is RUTHLESS. He WILL murder his siblings (almost) given the chance. They’re all so lucky that Ben is so good at healing and carries extra vials of healing potions on his person otherwise Madame Pomfrey would be VERY CONCERNED)

Five and Klaus probably get into the most shenanigans? Klaus gets less and less afraid of ghosts the more he runs into nice ones like Fred Weasley. Fred also lovingly nurtures Klaus’s absolutely terrible sense of humor and encourages him to prank the whole school. Klaus knows ALL the secret passageways thanks to Fred, a previous owner of the Maurauder’s map, so he’s just like. Constantly in the walls. He once dropped out of the ceiling to get to transfiguration in time and nobody even commented on it because Klaus is just Like That.

(A few people see Klaus’s boney elbows and knobbley knees and thinks he’s a good target for bullying just because he’s a slytherin and interhouse awfulness absolutely it at an all time high so recently after the war. YEAH his siblings step in and put the fear of god into any bullies, but Klaus fights like a cornered raccoon.)

Five is just way too smart and curious for his own good. He likes to poke around, figure things out, and also make money. Five does people’s homework, charges them for potions or rune work, tutors, dismantles shit in the chamber of secrets, ALSO explores the secret passageways (and finds some that weren’t on the map), is lovingly bullied into Friendship Activities with his housemates, breaks into the other houses’s common rooms for funsies, and keeps getting fed by the house elves who found out he can ‘apparate’ like them (without a wand) and have apparently adopted him against his will

Five is the sibling who has his fingers in like. ALL the pies. and just constantly pops up and drags them into things. Five will be helping Klaus with potions homework then glance up and tell Diego he’s cashing in the favor he’s owed for carving runes into Diego’s knives and that Diego now gets to break into Douglas Eddington’s room to steal back Lana Delwich’s diary so that Five can trade it to Lana for her rare Solomon Babik chocolate frog card which Five can give to Barnaby Beeson in exchange for a Large Distraction of Five’s Choice and a sketchy book on ward breaking which Five needs so he can break into the headmaster’s office to get a confiscated dark magic book that has some information Five needs to alter a potion that he’s probably going to make Luther drink later

Five is the sibling who is like “Ugh, I thought I was trading for some nundu ingredients but now i have a Whole Baby Nundu in the basement :/”

Which, of course, Klaus wants to keep despite the poison breath.

“This is literally one of the most dangerous magical creatures, we are not keeping it.” Luther says, unimpressed. However, he definitely has it cradled in his arms and makes kissy faces at it when he thinks no one is looking. (Apparently baby toxic nundu breath only makes Luther sneeze, so there’s that?)

“If you guys are arrested for smuggling I am not bailing you out.” Is Allison’s only decree about the matter.

Honestly I wouldn’t be shocked if someone DID eventually find out about one of the siblings’ powers - however, they would come to entirely the wrong conclusion about them?? Because this is a world of MAGIC and so everything magical has to have a magical explanation, right???

Luther is durable as all fuck???? Uhhhhh maybe he has some like. Troll blood or giant blood something back in his family line, obviously not something he would ever want the world to know about bc of species-ism

Allison can make you do whatever you want with her words????? Maybe she’s part veela? With that charm appeal?

Five is doing. Wandless apparation?? I mean, that’s rare as FUCK but wandless magic is,,, grudgingly accepted though it’s usually only used for small or very familiar spells and not usually something as complex as apparation but OKAY just sit him down and forbid him from doing it anymore bc boy boutta be SPLICED or some shit

Klaus can. Klaus can talk to ghosts. Who are not full ghosts. Hmm. huh. Maybe it’s?? A family ability??? a super rare one? like being a metamorphagus? (What the fuck??????? what the FUCK???????)

Primarily the kids started off paranoid because they believed that their abilities indicated that they weren’t the same type of magic, and they didn’t want to be returned to their father, and then it progressed into “these abilities might make people scared of us (looking at you allison, with your imperius-ass abilites)” or “we can’t afford that kind of scrutiny or curiosity about our powers (they might find out luther is a werewolf or something idk)” and “if we are ‘desirable’ children with ‘rare abilities’ the government might try to split us up and adopt us into weird pureblood families or something OR might try to lock us up (like where would they even put Ben??)”

honestly if ben ever got found out he’d just deadpan “it’s a curse, hand me the black wormroot would you?” and be like “oh yeah it’s under control i just go vibe in the woods every so often and rip up a tree or something. I think the horror wants to be the whomping willow when it grows up actually, so just don’t get too close when i’m in the horror zone. if you can live with a murder tree on campus you can live with me on campus”

someone sees vanya fuck something up with his powers and is like ???? and Vanya is just like “accidental magic lol” 

“aren’t you... a bit... old for accidental magic...”

“accidental. magic.”

[maybe-a-fangurl]

The Moon and the Sun (Zuko x Reader) part 9

I’m back!! I am so sorry that it has taken so long to update this story, school started and I just got completely wrapped up in that and then had the worst writers block but I am starting to get back into things. I have also recently become OBSESSED with Harry Potter and have a few one shot ideas (and will gladly take requests) but my priority right now is this story and I will be trying to post at least once a week again. But here is the new chapter, and I hope you all enjoy and that it was worth the wait!! 

Part 1 Part 8

Masterlist

It was a simple plan, follow Jet to where they were keeping Appa. That was all you had to do but you shouldn’t have been surprised that things didn’t go as planned, for you at least. You were walking at the back of the group, and as they went around the corner you were spotted by a Dai Lee agent. You of course told everyone to go as you ran in the opposite direction, causing the Dai Lee agent to follow you and not notice the others, who you know weren’t happy about you getting split up from the look on Sokka’s face as you ran away, but you knew it was for the best. It didn’t take long for you to lose the Dai Lee agent, but you quickly realized that you had no idea where you were or which way to go to get back to the group.

Even though you were lost, you had to admit that the silence was something you found almost endearing. Silence was one of the things you missed about traveling with Zuko, you could always go out on the deck of the ship and just look out at the endless blue of water and sky. You loved your new friends, but they overwhelmed you at times and there was hardly ever a moment to just catch your breath since you were constantly on the move.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t hear the footsteps walking towards you, and as you rounded the corner you ran into someone and were sent to the ground. You didn’t look to see who it was before you took all of the water from the floor of the tunnels and used it to hit the person right in the chest, sending them to the ground in front of where you were but before you could get up you felt something connect with your hands and you looked to see it was rocks. You quickly looked up to see that three Dai lee agents were standing in front of you, and one on the ground from where you hit him with water.  

“You’re with the Avatar.” One of the Dai Lee agents said as they looked at you, and you felt your heart drop as you realized they would use you against Aang just like they were doing with Appa if they captured you. You were quick to use your feet to bring the water at the group, sending them all to the ground as you scrambled to your feet, and by the time you had broken the rocks around your hands, all of the men were back on their feet.  

“I couldn’t just stay with the others.” You mumbled to yourself as you froze the floor under them before turning and running in the other direction, hearing the soldiers yell as they tried to get across the ice. You kept running, ignoring the yelling behind you as you turned a corner that led to a hallway with a dead end. You turned around, planning to go in the other direction but as you turned you were hit in the chest by one of the rock fists. The sudden impact knocked the breath out of you, you were sent backwards and when you hit the ground everything went black.

--

“You and I would have made such an amazing team, not as good as you and Zuzu but we would have been powerful together. If only the two of you wouldn’t have ruined it.” You heard a cold voice say as you slowly started to become aware of the pain in the back of your head. You slowly opened your eyes before letting out a groan and putting your hands over your face, the light causing a sharp pain to go through your head. “Ah you’re awake, I knew that my voice would bring you back.”

You slowly pulled your hands away from your eyes and as you looked up you seen Azula standing with a smirk on her face. You looked at her with your eyebrows knitted before looking around, trying to figure out where you were but you realized that you were still in what looked like the Dai Lee’s headquarters.

“What are you doing here?” You asked as you realized that if you were still at the Dai Lee headquarters that meant that Azula was in Ba Sing Se. You quickly got up from the ground, trying to ignore the pounding in your head as the room started to spin.

“Not happy to see me?” Azula asked as she looked at your attempt of a defensive stance. You just narrowed your eyes as you finally were able to look at her, and when you did you noticed that she was in a Kyoshi warrior armor.

“Where did you get that?” You asked through gritted teeth, her smirk only growing at your reaction.

“Mai, Ty Lee, and I ran into some of your friends. Don’t worry they’re all okay, just in prison. But their little dresses were able to get us into Ba Sing Se and then I met with the Dai Lee and we’ve all been great friends since.” She said in a pride filled voice, one that made your skin crawl.

You knew that right now you wouldn’t be able to beat her in a fight, but you also knew that since you were injured she wouldn’t expect anything. So, while she was focused on her story you took your chance and lunged at her, causing her to let out a small scream as the two of you went to the ground. You were quick to pin her arms down with your knees and use the rest of your weight to hold down her torso. The shock on her face was quickly replaced with anger as she struggled against you but eventually let out a sigh and glared at you.

“What are you going to do? Hold me down until your friends come? Well I hate to tell you, but they aren’t going to make it.” She said, and your heart dropped at her words, and you pressed down harder against her arms as you narrowed your eyes.  

“Why are you here Azula?” You asked in a cold tone, one that shocked her, but she didn’t let it show as she let out another cold laugh.

“I’m here to take the Earth Kingdom, claim it in the name of the Fire Nation.” She said in a calm voice, the pride and arrogance practically dripping from her lips as she looked up at you with that same smirk that she had been wearing since you were kids.

“You’re not going to.” You said, trying to sound sure of it but even you didn’t believe it. You knew that if she had all of the Dai Lee agents with her along with Mai and Ty Lee, and possibly other fire nation soldiers along with the element of surprise that the Earth Kingdom didn’t stand a chance.

“I already have.” She stated and before you had the chance to say anything back you heard the door open and looked to see Mai and Ty Lee walk in, both of them letting out a gasp as they seen you pinning Azula down.

“I really didn’t think you had it in you.” Mai said in a flat tone, and you knew that deep down she enjoyed seeing Azula being bested.

“You could join us you know.” Ty Lee pleaded, and as you moved your eyes away from Mai to her you could see the desperation in her eyes. “You could help us.”

“She wouldn’t even betray her new friends for Zuzu, don’t think that she would for us.” Azula said and you watched Ty Lee’s face drop, realization setting in. They knew that they weren’t going to change your mind, that things would never be the same as they were when you were kids, but it didn’t make it hurt any less. And you would be lying if you said it didn’t hurt you as well, because deep down you longed to be on the same side as your friends.

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled as you looked away from Ty Lee and over to Mai, and right as you made eye contact her gaze hardened.

“Me too.” Mai said as she started to throw knifes your way, you were able to dodge the first one but the second one caught your arm and you were forced to move off of Azula to dodge the third one.

As you stood back up the room spun a little bit from your head still being tender, and the spinning was enough to make you miss the fourth knife coming your way until it was right in front of you. You tried to dodge it but you stumbled and it slid across the side of your face, causing Ty Lee to let out a gasp. Before you had any time to react Azula swept your feet out from under you, causing you to land on your back as you let out a groan.  “Truly you should have thought all of that through just a little more.” Azula said as she stood up and rubbed her arms where your knees were just moments ago. You tried to get up but before you could you felt something pin your wrist to the ground and as you looked up you seen Dai Lee agents entering the room. You tried to pull your hands out of the rock fists, but it was no use, and as you looked over at Azula you seen a pity filled look before she put her stoic expression back on. “You know where to take her.”

“Yes princess.” The man said as you were pulled up from the ground, and they started dragging you towards a door.

“I’m really sorry it has to be this way, but I assure you that you won’t be alone for very long.” She said, and you watched as the smirk returned to her face. “You and Zuzu can have some quality time, if he doesn’t put up too much of a fight.” “No.” You said as you realized she knew that him and Iroh were here. You started to move around, trying to get loose from the agents grip on your arms but it was no use. “Azula, you better not hurt him!” “Well I can’t make any promises, he is traitor to the Fire Nation after all.” She said as her smirk grew, and you tried to fight harder against the guards.

“Azula!” You yelled as they continued to drag you away, you yelled as many threats as you could at her, but you knew they were all pointless. She was going to do whatever she wanted to do and there was nothing that you could do about it.

You felt numb as you were left alone in a chamber full of crystals, and it took everything in you to sit up and lean against one of the crystals. You were able to use the rest of the water in your pouch to heal the cut on your arm and face the best you could but with the small amount of water you knew that there would still be a scar.

“I should have just stayed with them.” You mumbled to yourself as you laid your head back against the crystals and closed your eyes, letting the exhaustion take over.

“Zuko what happened to your eye?” You asked as you rushed over to him, putting your hand on the side of his face as you looked at him. His eye was badly bruised, and as you looked closer at him you realized that he had a cut across his nose as well. “Who did this?” “I don’t want to talk about it.” He grumbled as he pushed you away, walking past you and down the hallway. “Well I want you to.” You said as you walked behind him, trying to catch up with him. “I want to know who did this to you.” “It isn’t any of your business!” Zuko yelled as he turned around and looked at you, his hand going up and pointing at you, causing you to flinch. His eyes got wide as he seen you flinch and he immediately brought his hands to his side as he looked at you with sad eyes. “I’m sorry, I just don’t want to talk about it.” “Okay.” You said and before you could say anything else he turned and walked away from you. You let out a sigh before walking towards the turtle duck pond, it was one of the only places in the castle that you truly felt like you belonged. Everywhere else felt so hot and dry but by the pond you could felt at home, you could feel the water moving around the pond and feel the water within the plants.  

You sat down and looked down at the turtle ducks as they swam around, bringing a small smile to your face before the thought of Zuko raising his hand and yelling at you made it disappear.

“Why so sad y/n? Is Zuzu mad about being bested and not talking to you?” She asked in a cocky tone as she walked up behind you, and you turned to see her signature smirk on her face, but as she seen the look on your face is softened a little bit. “Don’t tell me he took his anger out on you.” “It was my fault I shouldn’t have pushed him.” You said before raising your eyebrows at her comment. “What do you mean bested?” “We spared today, and I beat him.” She said in a proud tone, but her smirk fell as you looked at her, causing her to let out a scoff. “Don’t be mad that I’m better than your boyfriend.” “He isn’t my boyfriend.” You said to her before looking back at the water. “I just don’t understand why you have to take things so far, you didn’t have to hurt him.” “I didn’t have to, but I wanted to.” She said as she sat down beside you, and you just shook your head as you kept your eyes on the water.

“He’s your brother, you shouldn’t want to hurt him.” You said as you let out a sigh and looked over at her. “Your mother always wanted the two of you to get along, and I do too because it’s insufferable when the two of you are fighting, especially when you try to use me against one another.” “Well my mother isn’t here so it doesn’t really matter what she wants, does it?” She asked in a cold tone as she turned away from you, looking at the turtle ducks. “And I don’t bother using you against Zuko, it’s no use because you always chose him over me.” “That isn’t true Azula, and you know it.” You said to her, but she just let out a scoff.

“It’s okay, I know the truth.” She said in the same cold tone as before, but her words were less bitter and more sorrowful than before. “You and Zuzu will always be the perfect team, me never having your true loyalty.”

Part 10

@tpwkatsumu @caswinchester2000 @frickin-bats @winchestergirl907 @eridanuswave @the-firebender-girl @myarthetics @royahllty @izzieserra @akariblue  @coldlilheart @thirstyforsometea @cirtruss @lammello @bigbuckyenergy @aangsupremacy @lozzybowe @duh-dobrik @emogril @justab-eautifulmess @whalerus @im-me-and-noone-else @nataliahaslosthershit @oddment-niwit-blubber-tweak @slytherky @shemakesfanvids @sokkas-honour

[thecat-inthehat]

2. Aberrant

Sorry this one’s a bit late, I could not think of a good prompt for the life of me. And then this one ended up being so much longer than I thought.

Anyways, the best known way to make a cat like you is to bribe it with treats. Or previously inaccessible laboratories.

(1574 words) [Masterpost]

--

The door whooshed open, letting out a small cloud of air that had been trapped in the room for some time. The lights started to blink on one by one as they flickered to life with soft red glows, casting the two miqo’te into gentle relief. 

“Finally, I’ve been trying to get this lab open for ages,” the woman said, stepping into the room and adjusting her hat so she could get a better look. “Apparently this was the personal lab of one Stygian Osseous, the primary researcher for the Warring Triad restraints, who then went on to work on the Dalamud project.” 

“Ah, I see,” the man said softly, looking around the room with interest. “And being of such high rank, his room would be closed off to everyone save for the royal family.” 

“After we found Owen’s node and laboratory, I knew there had to be other places that were blocked off,” Nive muttered, starting to flip on switches for more lights to pop on. “I kept finding references to his work while I was digging into the Triad’s restraints on the upper decks of the Flagship, but every time I was confronted with passwords and nodes that tried to fire lasers at me.” 

“So this is why you kitnapped me,” G’raha said with some amusement, his luminous red eyes crinkling at her. “I see, I’m just a key for you to get into nooks and crannies you probably shouldn’t.”

Nive paused for a moment and think it over, only to chuckle. “Yeah, pretty much. Sorry, I don’t like you much at all, Exarch. But this is going a long way to endearing me to you.” 

G’raha blinked at the title, and wondered if it was intentional or not. Truthfully he and the woman were acquaintances at best -- he hadn’t endeared himself to her during his tenure as the Crystal Exarch, and now that they were back on the Source, he hadn’t seen much of her. It was strange, really. She was family-by-proxy, since she was Shining’s sister, but she had had little and less to say to him other than deriding his intelligence or asking a few questions about the Tower. 

Admittedly he wasn’t on her level. She was extremely intelligent, and had an encylopedia’s worth of knowledge stuffed into her grimoires or her head. She knew more about aether patterns and primals than he probably ever would, as well as the sheer math that was required in her chosen profession of being a Summoner. He wasn’t a slouch, having gotten his own archon mark and a century’s worth of experience governing a city, but she was on a different tier entirely. He tried not to take it personally. 

Nive started walking through the lab, carefully noting down things in her grimoire before she went to move various switches or open cabinets. It was a methodical sort of note taking that he had seen before on countless occasions, and he wondered how many books she went through on the weekly. The Ironworks had many of her books saved and used as references, and he had torn through many of them while he was with the group. There were dozens that were piled into the library, but based on what he had seen in the last few months of knowing her, at least a good seventy percent had been lost to time. The historian in him ached to try and figure out pieces that were missing, to study her books and gain some sort of knowledge. 

But here he was, watching the living legend spray herself with ink as the quill nib broke. She spluttered and coughed, then grumbled and yanked another quill out from the feather on her hat--so that’s why she wore the damn thing--and continued writing, heedless of the ink on her cheeks. History was learned and not lived indeed. 

“G’raha, can you--pleh--turn on that light over there?” She asked, pointing to where a switch sat, next to a containment chamber. The man laughed softly at her but did as bid, going to flip on one of the switches. The containment chamber lit up, and he had to stifle a yelp of surprise. 

It was filled with a sort of fluid, and floating inside sat a Lamia specimen staring at him. He jumped back, but the eyes of the creature did not follow him -- and he caught a glance at the vital signs. Dead. 

“I thought this man worked on the containment moons?” G’raha heard himself ask, trying to get his heart under control. 

“He did, why--Oh!” Nive said, coming up to the containment chamber and looking it over. She instantly went to the panel on the side, starting to read the information. “It looks like it was deceased before the Calamity, and he was storing this one for research.” 

“Why a singular Lamia specimen…?” G’raha asked, frowning at it. It looked a bit different compared to most Lamia he had seen, but even he understood what five thousand years in an isolated area could do to a species. 

“I’m not sure…” Nive murmured, and tapped on one of the display panels. Holographic text started to float across the screen, and she started reading aloud. “‘One of the youngest of the batch showed strange genealogy today, well outside the norm. She developed speech and her petrification powers quicker than the others, but seemed to know things she shouldn’t have.’ The next entry… hm. ‘The containment suite for the Lamias was in shreds today. The advanced specimen had killed the rest of her clutchmates, and was playing with the petrified head of one of her victims.’”

“... That’s disturbing.” G’raha said flatly. 

“Quite.” Nive muttered, and went to flip over the last few pages. The text scrawled across the screen, and G’raha could see several dates flip past. “‘After some research, I have determined that she has the aberration known as the Echo. How a simple creature as a Lamia could have it, I know not. The tests unfortunately killed her, but I have stored her body in my lab for further analysis. But with Dis asking me to work on the Dalamud project, I doubt I’ll have the time to truly study what I want. I can’t refuse him though…’ It trails off here, and there’s no other entries.” 

“It seems this man had more to him than even you knew,” he murmured, looking up at the specimen again. “... The Echo though…” 

“It’s been observed in non-spoken, but we have extremely little data on it,” Nive said, making another note in her grimoire. “We don’t know exactly how it works, and Mikoto hasn’t been able to get back to me on what she’s observed in Bozja. We know that it exists, but not to what degree or frequency.” 

“Do we even have those numbers on the Spoken?” G’raha asked, tilting his head. “With the recent resurgence of primals, it seems pertinent…” 

“Admittedly not enough data for my tastes, but out of the sample sizes we’ve found, the Echo can be found in approximately point-zero-five percent of the population, with numbers in Eorzea skewing slightly higher to point-zero-seven.” Nive said, scribbling on her notes. “It’s actually a lot higher than we thought. For a long time, Helisent and I were under the impression that the Echo and the Blessing of Light were congruent, until Midgardsormr proved otherwise. It turns out that theoretically anyone with the Echo can become a Warrior of Light, but those that do are far in between. And, in theory, someone without the Echo could be Blessed.” 

“... And then you have situations such as Elidibus in the First, forcibly awakening the Echo within the population,” G’raha murmured. “Artificially inflating the numbers. Except… Is it truly artificial when we have confirmation that it’s almost all artificial?” 

Nive asked softly, placing a claw on the glass of the containment unit. She stared up at the corpse of the Lamia, tapping her finger in thought. “If Hydaelyn simply chooses to awaken more of them when she needs, has there ever been a point where the Echo has awoken naturally? But… then that doesn’t explain how the Ascians have the Echo. Or what it even is…” 

“The more I think about it, the more the Echo being called an ‘aberration’ seems more and more apt,” G’raha admitted softly. He had witnessed the starshower, and had seen many of his beloved citizens have a gleam of understanding in their eye, of hearing something that was beyond his ken. It scared him, more than a little. 

“Maybe we can find some more information on it in the Triad’s files… But I doubt it.” Nive murmured. “At the least, it’s more information than we had.” 

“So I did well, then?” He asked with a laugh, and felt his stomach flip slightly. He didn’t want to sound so eager to please, but … She was Shining’s sister. He at least wanted to try and get along with her, or maybe be friendly. 

Nive grinned toothily at him, baring her fangs. “Court’s still out on the final verdict, but I think you’ve got good chances. As long as you keep opening doors like that, I think we’ve got a good relationship forming.” 

“Ah, I see, it’s all based around how I can serve you,” he snarked, and was unable to hide the grin from his face. “Maybe you should be the princess of the Allagan line then.”

[bluesfortheredj]

Myths and legends.

There had long been talk of a curse placed upon your family many moons ago, but you always took such whisperings with a heavy pinch of salt and a large amount of disbelief. Witches? Curses? It was the twenty first century not the sixteenth, and the fairy tales that you heard from family members were getting rather tiresome. All you’d heard throughout your life was how the women of the family were doomed to be alone, never destined to be married unless they found that one person who would break the curse and lay true love’s kiss upon their sweet lips. It was a cliché, it sounded as if it was straight from a Disney film in all honesty, and even when faced with the facts you were very dubious about how true this was; it could be pure coincidence after all. So what if none of the women in your family had married? So what if many had come close but all had failed due to unforeseen circumstances such as sudden deaths and disappearances? Didn’t mean it was true, it was simply bad luck! A self fulfilling prophecy in your opinion, especially with how much people were obsessed with it.

“This isn’t to be taken lightly (Y/N),” your mother warns as you dismiss your Aunt’s insistence that you need to take all of this seriously, “if you find someone and they propose you could be putting them in a very dangerous situation.”

“Isn’t that the only way to find out whether it’s true love or not? How else will you know? You kiss him and then suddenly the world fades around you both and fireworks go off everywhere?!” you question sarcastically.

“Don’t be so ridiculous!” your Aunt scolds, “this isn’t a joke.”

You sigh as you sink into the armchair opposite her, “I’m sorry. I know it’s not. I’m sorry about what happened to Daniel, and I’m sorry about what happened to dad; are you sure that this is the so called ‘curse’ though, and not just bad luck?”

“We’re sure,” your mother sighs sadly, “you need to realise just how powerful true love’s kiss can be. It can change your life, it can break all manner of curses, it can change the future of this family.”

“But how will I know? Aren’t there some instructions or something that comes along with a curse? I’ve kissed a fair few people; how do I know I haven’t met the one yet?”

“It’s said that you’ll wake to a brighter world once true love’s kiss has been placed upon your lips,” your Aunt replies, “whatever that means.”

“And although you loved your partners, you never felt like that?” you ask as you look between the two women.

They both shake their heads solemnly, “unfortunately not.”

“So why did you go ahead with the wedding plans knowing that you could be putting them in danger?”

“Because we were like you!” you mum exclaims, “young and disbelieving that anything bad could happen. I know that a couple of generations in this family were never warned in the first place, the curse having been forgotten, but it soon reared its head again and we’ve made sure it hasn’t been overlooked again.”

“Hmm,” you hum, quickly checking your watch, “I’ve got to go, I promised I’d meet Gwil, I’ll see you both later.”

“Bye sweetie.”

“I’m sorry by the way,” you add when you reach the doorway, “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you.”

You get into your car, a renewed worry now washing over you, and drive into town where you were to meet your lifelong friend Gwilym. The older you got the less you saw of each other, but you always tried to make time for one another at least once every couple of months or so. He knew about the supposed curse on your family and the two of you had joked about it at length, but now you’d truly been convinced that it was real it suddenly lost all comedic aspects. What if you never found the person to break the curse? There’s billions of people on earth, the chances of you finding your one true love were slim to none as far as you were concerned. Luckily the sight of Gwil was enough to brighten up your face a little and as you walk into his open arms you feel a bit better than you had done on the drive here as you mulled things over in your mind.

“Hello you,” he sighs happily.

“I’m so glad to see you,” you reply, your voice muffled by his jumper.

“What’s wrong?” he frowns, holding you at arm’s length and studying your face, “sit down and tell me all about it.”

“Oh, you know, the usual… the great curse that hangs over my family and the fact that the chances of finding anyone to break it are pretty much zilch.”

“Ah. So they’re still going on at you about it?”

“I brought it on myself, I was being my usual ignorant self and talking about how it was probably just a coincidence or self fulfilling prophecy type thing… but it’s not,” you pause as you exhale, “it’s really not.”

“Right then, you’d better sign up to every dating site going so we can find you your true love!” he announces, slapping the table triumphantly as his idea, “you can start downloading apps while I get us drinks. Tea with a chocolate chip muffin, yeah?”

“You know me so well,” you chuckle as you get your phone out of your pocket.

You download the first free dating app you find, one you’d used before, then fill in your details and start swiping through your initial matches just as Gwilym arrives at the table with a tray of treats.

“Show me,” he grins as he sits down and slides your phone towards him.

He begins to flick through the options and as you look at each picture of the men you instantly dismiss them for what you realise is the same reason every time; they don’t look like Gwil. You cover your face with your hands, and hear his familiar laugh at your action.

“That bad, huh?”

“You could say that.”

“Well come on then, describe your perfect man,” he suggests as he locks your phone and picks up his mug instead.

“Well… y’know… rugged good looks, thick hair that you can run your fingers through, tall, someone with some meat on them so you’re not hugging a lamppost, a guy who can take the piss out of himself and who has a wicked sense of humour, someone who’s family orientated with a big heart… I dunno, that’s all I can think of.”

“Not to be big headed but that kind of sounds like me,” he winks.

“You?!” you laugh, a little too enthusiastically.

“Ouch!” he chuckles.

“I didn’t mean to laugh so much… I just… I think I need to go actually,” you frown.

Gwilym quickly reaches out his hand and places it gently on top of yours before running his thumb along your skin softly, “stay,” he whispers, “please. Don’t be scared.”

“But I am,” you admit quietly as you relax back into your chair.

“Why?”

“Because I have bottled these feelings for so long that I don’t know how to deal with them. It was fine when I didn’t believe in anything my family said but now it’s different, it’s very real, and I am not willing to put you in any danger.”

“What if I want to take that risk? What if I propose right now without even knowing the answer? It’d be worth it in my opinion.”

“Don’t you dare!” you warn him with a gasp, “do you realise what that could mean if… if it wasn’t you?”

“Do you think it isn’t?”

“I don’t know what I think but all I know is that I can’t involve you in this, it’s not fair.”

“I want to be involved. Please. I’ve wondered if you’ve felt the same for so long and I can’t let this opportunity slip now that I know you feel the same.”

You slide your hand out from underneath his and sip your tea quickly as you begin to wonder how this meet with your close friend had suddenly taken a very different turn, and Gwilym leans back in his chair as he drinks from his mug, giving you some space that you definitely needed.

“Will there be some kind of sign if it is true love’s kiss?” he asks casually after a few minutes of silence.

“Apparently,” you nod.

He smiles then leans forward and swoops in to kiss your lips with a softness that you’d only ever dreamed of before. He places one of his hands on your cheek, his finger tips gently caressing your skin as his lips move with yours in a joyous dance, and the arm that’s nearest to his body reaches out to land on his thigh as you lean too far forwards on your chair, almost toppling it over.

“So…?” he grins as he pulls his lips away reluctantly and rests his forehead against yours.

You look into his eyes as you open your lips to reply, but then you gasp as the blue of his irises suddenly appears to illuminate right before you, and you pull back in shock as everything around you glows.

“(Y/N)?” he questions as he sees your gaze darting around the cafe to make sure you were seeing things correctly.

“I… Gwilym!” you laugh as you take his hands, “why didn’t you kiss me before?!”

“No!” he chuckles, “really?!”

“Yes! Did you know?”

“Well I certainly knew that you were the one for me… I just wasn’t completely sure that I was the one for you...”

“You’ve always been the one for me Gwil, I was just too scared to admit it.”

So not 100% sure how to do a submission and saw you were gonna stop writing soo was wondering if youd be willing to do a story of either Charlie Nelson or gwil (I'll let you pick if you write it) and have it be something like true loves kiss breaks the curse or saves the day?

@painthatiusedto @winnielinleigh @queenslandlover-93 @excellentbecca @peachllobotomy @lovemarvelousfics @lovemelikeyou1997 @readinghorn @godohammers @timeandpixiedust @lv7867 @fuckyou-imspiderman @aynsleywalker @the-baby-bookworm @chlobo6 @drivenbybri

[razaks-wheel]

[In her research into Imperial-funded overhaul events, Meryse contacts the Nerevarine. This probably isn't canon. Unless]

3E 432

Meryse set up a sound wall around the projection room she had booked for the afternoon. She wished she could do this somewhere more private, like her own home, but even the "modern-style" projection that many mages made use of was still a little ways beyond her current skill level, and so she was stuck using a device at her local Mages Guild.

It was a dangerous game, she knew, doing research that could be considered anti-Imperial in an Imperial-funded facility, but she was fairly confident that she knew how to take the appropriate precautions. Besides, if the rumors could be trusted, the person she was going to be talking to was at least nominally considered a friend of the Empire, and so even if the projection could be tracked, she should be safe.

In their brief exchange of letters, they had provided each other with a pointer gem, a tiny crystal infused with a small amount of magicka, to make it possible to target each other with a projection. When the designated time came, Meryse placed Ildari's pointer gem in the device's slot and powered it up with a bit of her own magicka. She sat at the desk in the rune on the floor and set her notebook down in front of her while the device whooshed to life and sent its projection to what she imagined was a fabled mushroom tower all the way in Morrowind.

A few moments later, a translucent form appeared in front of her of a Dunmer woman with hair flopped to one side of her head. She had heard that the Nerevarine had been young, but she was still surprised to see that this mer barely looked older than she. Of course, it was hard to gauge an age from a projection, especially of a mer. Maybe she was older than she looked, or maybe Meryse was really just older than she felt.

As they exchanged introductions and pleasantries, Meryse noticed a ring on Ildari's finger decorated with Azuran symbology. She had heard of that ring, Moon-and-Star, in her studies when preparing for this meeting. It was said to give Nerevar, and only Nerevar, a substantial boon in interpersonal abilities. She wondered whether Ildari was wearing it for symbolic reasons, or if she was just as nervous to be interviewed by a stranger as Meryse was to be conducting the interview. Either way, Meryse wished she had a ring like that, though preferably one that wouldn't kill her.

"So, I'm studying some of the major events that the Empire has seemed to have a hand in, as part of a larger research project, and I wanted to talk to some of the key players in those events," Meryse said. "You were employed by the Emperor himself to fulfill your Nerevarine prophecies, correct?"

"Ah...not exactly," Ildari said. "The Emperor selected me, yes, and tried to get me into his service, but I never even ended up talking to the guy the Empire wanted me to go to."

"Oh," Meryse said, her pen hovering above her notes. "Can I ask why?"

"Someone intercepted me outside the Census and Excise office and gave me a better offer if I would take the orders they'd given me to his boss instead of the Imperial contact I was told to meet. His boss was on the council of House Telvanni, which I wanted to connect with anyway, being my ancestral House, and it gave me the option not to work for the Empire, so I took him up on it."

"And the Empire was fine with you not following their orders?"

"'Fine' would be a stretch." She laughed. "Let's just say that when I visit my mom in the Imperial City these days, I stay clear of Green Emperor Way. They probably know better than to mess with me, honestly, but I also know better than to dangle myself in front of them."

Well, that was a deviation. Maybe this was more dangerous than Meryse had anticipated, if this Ildari was less of a friend of the Empire than she had previously believed. On the other hand, it might mean that her answers would be more useful than she expected, as long as any of the questions she had prepared still applied. She probed her wards to make sure they were holding up, and then glanced down at her notebook to decide where to go next.

"You were still initially set on your path by the Emperor, right? Do you know how he picked you?"

"Oh, Uriel absolutely orchestrated my involvement, even if I broke away the second I had the chance," Ildari said. "Certain entities have the ability to identify 'Heroes'—agents of prophecy. Gods can do it. I suspect Moth Priests can, too. Something about it being written in the Elder Scrolls. I assume an emperor has connections and probably makes it his business to keep tabs on any Heroes that pop up.

"Here's the thing, though: they did have to mess with my life to make it work. They killed my parents before I was old enough to remember them, because the prophecy said the Nerevarine has to have 'uncertain parents.' And they made up the charges that landed me in prison, because apparently being in prison is important to trigger the start of a prophecy, at least according to my friend Vivec. That tells me two things. First, they identified me as a Hero early on, long before the prophecies were actually set to be fulfilled. Second, they're willing to force a prophecy's conditions to be met, if it suits them."

"Wow, I...didn't realize they would go that far. Not that it's surprising, exactly. I guess I just didn't know they had the resources and the drive to act on prophecy so long before it's relevant."

She took a moment to consider the implications for her own research, and jotted a few notes down. She looked at her next question. It would sound strange, she knew, but Ildari seemed open-minded enough. Clearly, she was already aware of the implications of prophecy; she might not balk at a question about the nature of time and the aurbis.

"Did anything...strange happen while you were fulfilling your prophecies?" she asked. "I know that's broad. Anything that's hard to explain or understand, maybe relating to the flow of time?"

"That's very broad," Ildari agreed. "There was the part where I got all my memories back from my past seventeen incarnates' lives. That was strange and somewhat relates to the flow of time. But that's pretty specific to me. Probably not what you're looking for." With half a smile, she asked, "So, you're studying the Warp in the West?"

"Ah...yes," Meryse said with a nervous laugh.

"Don't buy the idea that it was a miracle from the Divines?"

"Not exactly," she said. "Not even a little bit, really. I want to figure out what really happened. Everyone sort of waves their hands around what happened, and no one seems to remember it. I do, sort of, but I was a kid, so no one believes me. I want to know what the Empire is hiding, and what else they might be hiding—who else they've hurt."

"Well, if you're looking for people the Empire has hurt, you've come to the right place," Ildari said dryly. "Be careful, though. The Empire doesn't always look kindly on its opponents, much less on people trying to uncover its secrets. I can say what I want, within reason, because quite frankly, I have power—both politically and in terms of combat ability. If you can't say the same, you should take care who you say these sorts of things to."

"Oh, I am careful, don't worry," she said. "I've got wards set up right now, I obscure my notes, and I keep my exact research questions largely to myself."

Ildari nodded. "That aside, though, you said you remember the Warp? The whole thing?"

"I remember three distinct days, when everyone talks about it being one or two. And when it was over, we were bending a knee to Uriel, and suddenly everyone was talking about the Nine like Talos had been there all along."

That seemed to interest Ildari. She paused, brow furrowed, and opened her mouth a few times as if to talk, but changing her mind each time.

After a few moments, she finally said, "I wonder if you're a Hero."

That was, somehow, not what Meryse was expecting.

"Me? I doubt it. I'm not strong or powerful or...special in any particular way, and I've never noticed the Empire messing with my life specifically, like you say they did with yours." She shrugged. "I'm just a mage, a researcher."

"So was I, before they shipped me off to Seyda Neen."

Meryse considered it for a moment longer. "I don't know. If that's all it is, it just feels like such a disappointing answer. And even if it is true, I still want to know how it happened. I guess I'll keep researching until I know better."

"Good idea. I'm sure there's plenty that the Empire is hiding; you being able to tell that they're hiding something is more of a compass than a solution," Ildari said. "Still, you might want to consider picking up some survival skills, maybe learn how to use a sword or armor, just in case you get tossed on an adventure without warning."

"Yeah, couldn't hurt," Meryse said. "Well, thank you for taking the time to talk to me. This has been...enlightening, really, even if not in the ways I expected." She added a small laugh at the end.

"Research is never boring, is it?" Ildari said. "I hope you find what you're looking for. And if you publish your work, I'd love to read it."

"I will be sure to send you a copy. Thanks again, Ildari." She waved awkwardly and disconnected the projection.

Once the projection device was back to its inert state and she had taken Ildari's pointer gem out of its slot, she glanced down at her notes one more time. There was not much there, but she still felt like she had learned a lot, and come out with more questions than she had entered with. Naturally.

She added one more note about picking up some new skills, and then passed an encryption spell over the page. When she was satisfied that her notes were sufficiently obscured from prying eyes, she closed her notebook, slipped it into her bag, lowered her wards, and headed back out into the Mages Guild as though her concept of the world had not just been shaken.

[crissy622]

FIC: Glove You Like That [1/1]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ALAINA! We love you to the moon and back. For this fabulous day, we wrote you an Unholy Trio fic. The non-existent Ao3 page is now up to two whole ass fanfics about these disaster children.

Everyone, go wish @isadorahart​ the biggest happy birthday ever, because she’s awesome and we love her.

Written By: @crissy622​ & @lengiesofrps​ Characters/Pairings: Charlotte Lightwood, Cameron Walsh, Luna Darkmore [Unholy Trio] Rating: PG Summary: The gloves had been Cam’s idea.

The gloves had been Cam’s idea.

Any other day, Charlie may have laughed at the thought of Cam, with his corduroy jackets and fondness for truly horrendous tie-dye, being the one to come up with something relating to fashion. But she didn’t have it in her today. Umbridge had hurt Luna. Umbridge had scarred Luna.

Charlie still felt sick any time she looked at Luna’s hands and saw the scars. The cuts had healed over, thanks to essence of murtlap, but the scars were shiny and new with I WILL NOT MOCK and I WILL NOT BREAK RULES standing out against her skin. That it had happened, enough times to become permanent, and they’d missed it…

“Remind me that I won’t be any help to Luna if I’m in Azkaban for skinning Umbridge with her own bloody quill,” she told Cam darkly as she settled in next to him in an empty classroom. Luna would be in her music class for another hour before she had to meet her for Divination. She needed to get her anger under control before then, because retaliating against Romilda Vane was vastly different than against a Ministry official.

Though, it was tempting. She might even be able to get away with it considering her family’s and Blaise’s connections. Malfoy did owe her a favor…

“We would break you out,” Cam’s voice interrupted her thoughts, his usually soft voice carrying a hard edge. “But just remember that to skin her with that thing, you’d have to stick the quill in unimaginable places. Which means you’d have to touch unimaginable places.”

Charlie’s nose scrunched up at the thought as disgust rolled through her. Breaking her out of prison — while sweet — was highly improbable when one remembered the Dementors, but he did have a point about having to touch the foul woman. She huffed and turned her eyes up towards the sky to try and spot the owl that was supposed to deliver the package. She had been clear in her instructions about when and where the delivery would take place. If they thought they could cheat her out of the extra galleons and not deliver- Ah, she thought as her eyes caught sight of the approaching owl. There it was.

“My plans for revenge can be put on hold until after we’ve given these to Luna,” she told Cam as she stood up and gave a sharp whistle. The owl shifted course towards them and dropped the small package into her hands without stopping to beg for treats. Just as well. She didn’t have any.

She sat beside Cam again, still angry Luna had been hurt enough to make the gloves necessary at all. She took a breath as she handed the box over for him to inspect. They needed to make sure they were up to standard and they had better wrapping to put them into anyway.

The gloves, when Cam opened the box, were as they’d ordered, at least; black, fingerless gloves comprised of a thickly patterned lace to cover the scars with its winding patterns. Repelling spells to keep them clean. Anti-snag charms to make sure they wouldn’t get damaged during class. They’d be breathable enough that she shouldn’t be uncomfortable in the warmer months.

Assuming she liked them at all.

She picked up one of the gloves carefully, laid it out in the palm of her hand as she traced a finger across the thick petal of a flower. The fabric felt softer than she’d expected. “Madame Pomfrey really doesn’t think the scars will heal over?” she asked, her voice barely at a whisper.

Cam shook his head once, lips pressing together hard enough to leech the color from them. “No,” he answered shortly. He watched as gray clouds rolled swiftly through the sky, absentmindedly cracking his knuckles against his knees. Finally, he turned to face Charlie. “She said with the amount of abuse her hands took that it was a miracle that she didn’t have a tangle of scar tissue. If Luna hadn’t thought of murtlap, her hands would just resemble knots.”

Charlie pressed her eyes closed, jaw clenched. She wouldn’t cry, but it didn’t make it any easier to hear. This woman had hurt her friend and they couldn’t fix it. All they could do was cover it up. She let out her next breath a little shakily and reopened her eyes as she put the gloves back in the box. “I hate this,” she admitted softly, useless as it was. Hating the situation wouldn’t change that it was their reality. They weren’t even the ones who would have to carry the scars.

She pressed her forehead to Cam’s shoulder and took another couple breaths to compose herself. “Close the box and I’ll wrap it,” she told him. “Could you keep it in your dorm until we give it to her? I don’t want her to see it while we’re in Divination.” There wouldn’t be a lot of time for them to give it to her that night. Dinner was too public and Cam had Astronomy right after. Tomorrow morning, she supposed. None of them had classes until after lunch and she didn’t want to walk into Defense that afternoon without giving the gloves to Luna.

Now that she knew what the quill did, the woman looked too satisfied any time she could see the scars she’d caused.

“Yeah,” he whispered. He set the box on her lap, but threaded his fingers lightly with hers before she had a chance to pick it up. Cam leaned his head against hers, sighing heavily. “Just because we can’t retaliate now doesn’t mean we’ll never be able to. We all know the position is cursed. She won’t be our teacher next year…” The thought trailed off but it was clear that Cam was dreaming of what they could do in retaliation when Umbridge had less power over them. That he wanted revenge just as bad as Charlie did. “I can set up the fort tonight. No one ever bothers us in there.”

She smiled at his promise. As improbable as it may have been — getting close to Umbridge once she wasn’t at school with them would be too difficult — the idea that they could get revenge against her… She squeezed his hand back and nodded. “We’ll meet you there.”

She dragged Luna towards Ravenclaw Tower the next morning after breakfast, their fingers intertwined as they wove around students heading to where they’d just left. Some Gryffindors glared at them as they passed, but as they got closer to Ravenclaw, the house uniforms gave way to blue and silver. They dodged around a sad Cho Chang as they went, but she didn’t bother to acknowledge them.

“Is everything okay?” Luna asked as a few running first years almost bowled them over. “We never go to the fort this early.”

“Family drama,” she lied and winced. She hated lying to them. “I just wanted to get away from Slytherin for the morning.”

Luna tossed her a concerned look, mouth open to probably ask if it had to do with Blaise, but they reached the portrait and she let the riddle distract Luna from asking. She gave her a gentle push inside once the door swung open and they went towards the fort without hesitation, crawling inside their little sanctuary.

Cam was already inside, present set aside somewhere Charlie couldn’t see at a quick glance, but they crawled in closer towards him as they said hello with kisses pressed to his cheeks. Luna settled in comfortably against Cam’s side, while Charlie gave him a questioning look. Where is it?

His eyes flickered towards a corner and she followed it, setting herself down where she could see the edge of the box peeking out from behind a pillow.

“Come here,” Luna implored her, reaching out to her. “You’re too far away.”

“In a minute,” she told her before she let out a breath. “I lied to you.”

Cam’s eyebrows disappeared towards his hairline and Luna frowned before her face turned to something that looked like horror. “You were the one who walked in on Malfoy wanking to a picture of Potter?”

“No!” Her nose scrunched in disgust. Malfoy wanking. Ugh. “I’m not surprised if he was, but no, that wasn’t me. However, whoever did could probably use a nice obliviate right about now.”

“What even happens in Slytherin?”

“Purebloods only mostly have sticks up their asses,” Luna told Cam, smiling sweetly when Charlie shot her an unamused look. “What did you lie about, then?”

“Why we’re here,” she said and took a breath before she grabbed the box and held it out towards Luna. “We got you something.”

“It’s not my birthday,” Luna pointed out after a moment. 

“Nope,” Cam agreed.

She didn’t reach out for the box, though, and Charlie sighed before she put it in the girl’s lap.

“It was Cam’s idea,” Charlie explained as Luna finally began unwrapping the box and nerves began to twist her stomach. This could go so wrong. If Luna thought they were giving her the gloves because they had a problem with her hands… Charlie did hate the scars, but Luna had spent months wearing her sleeves so long that she flirted with a dress code violation. “If you don’t like it, we can just toss it in the fire.”

Cam’s hand found hers like he was telling her to calm down and she squeezed back, nervous, as Luna opened the box and just stared at the gloves for a long moment.

“They’re charmed to stay clean and they won’t rip,” she hurried to explain when the silence stretched a moment too long. “Cam said fingerless would be a better idea for classes. You’ll need the dexterity for cutting ingredients in Potions-”

“Charlie,” Luna cut in before her face split into a wide smile and she leaned in to kiss Cam’s cheek first before she crawled close enough to press on to Charlie’s too. “I love them.”

“Told you,” Cam told her and if Charlie had been a couple years younger or a Gryffindor, she may have stuck her tongue out in response. Instead, she just rolled her eyes and let Cam pull her closer until she was tucked into his other side.

“Yes, yes,” she huffed. “You’re a Ravenclaw. You’re smart. You know all.”

“Granger’s the know-it-all,” Luna piped in as she slipped the gloves on and held them out for inspection. “What do you think?”

Charlie looked closer at them in the dim lighting of the fort. The fine detailing — she was never telling Cam how much the gloves actually cost — and the way the lace laid over her hands. She couldn’t see the scars and the grin Luna had made her think the other girl couldn’t either. 

She reached out to catch Luna’s hand with her own as Cam’s played with the ends of her hair. “Perfect.”

“Very Madonna,” Cam agreed and gave her an innocent look in return when Charlie frowned. “Muggle singer.”

“Remind us to play Erotica for you sometime,” Luna added.

That was what muggles named their songs? “I think I’d rather if you didn’t.”

Luna laughed, her face turned into Cam’s shoulder, before she looked back up, contemplative. “So who do you think actually did walk in on Malfoy?”

“Luna.”

The End

[demon-slayer-imagines]

Hey, I would just like to say your Demon Slayer posts are amazing. You capture the characters perfectly (In my mind at least) and I was wondering if you could do a #4 and#65 for Muzan Kibutsuji please? Thank you

Thank you so much my dear! I try my best to make the characters as real as possible, and it’s a joy when I get sweeties like you that tell me I’m doing good cause a lot of the time I worry I’m not, so thank you ;v;.

“ I’m useless, aren’t I?” And “ your eyes are beautiful.”

“ Your going out again? But you just got home….” your worry was getting the best of you again, following your husband around the house as he settled himself in his suit, preparing to go right back out when he had just entered the house not ten minutes ago. “ Muzan, please just take a second to rest? I’m worried about you and your health….” you followed after him like a puppy dog following it’s master. You rarely get to see the man, he’s always so busy, so it’s nice when he does stop by for a change and rest at your home. He used to come home with minor injuries, to which he said he would be fine and not to worry, but you would be quick to take care of him and patch him up. “ my apologies, I was hoping to stay a bit longer and maybe have some of your food. I’ve missed it…” he mumbled under his breath, making your heart break even more. You knew about his demon work and his history, along with his work with his subordinates- The twelve moons. You’ve only met them a few times, but for demons they honestly weren’t that bad. “ I’ll be taking my leave.” Snapping out of your trance, you didn’t even get the chance to say goodbye as he left, closing the door behind him and leaving you in darkness.

“ Do you all understand what I am asking of you?” Muzan questioned, finishing his next batch of medicine he had been working on. “ yes, yes, we’ll make sure to not let you-“ at that, Doma stopped talking, all the pillars smelling a human scent, along with Muzan as his eyes flashed a color red, knowing that smell from anywhere. Hearing a door slide open from behind the moons, you walked in with a large basket in hand, as all eyes were on you, along with Muzan’s piercing ones. “ oh ho~ ____-san brought us something.” “ My apologies for intruding on your all’s meeting. I know Muz- I-I mean, leader has been extremely busy, so I’m sure you all have been busy as well. I just wanted to make you all something as a thank you for always assisting him and working hard.” You approaches the moons, bowing in front of them before placing your basket down and slipping the blanket off of it, presenting human remains within. As much as you tried, you always shook beneath them, their power was immeasurable and some were terrifying to even look at, their intimidation shaking you to the core. Even so, you had to keep a brave face and calm composure, you were in the company of demons, you couldn’t let them know your fear. “ ah~ ___ brought us food! I am pretty famished~” Doma hummed as the moons approached the basket and gathered their fair share of food amongst each other.

“ leader, would you like any?” You looked up at the man atop the ceiling as he starred at you for a moment before looking back at his work. “ that is all for today, I expect results from all of you.” The sliding doors slammed shut as you flinched softly, feeling a bit uncomfortable being left alone with the demons in the room. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea after all to come here. Muzan seemed…. less than pleased that you barged in so abruptly. “ my apologies everyone, I hope you enjoy the food, I’ll be taking my leave now…” you bowed as you quickly exited out of the room, gently closing the sliding doors that lead to the meeting room. Leaning your head against the door, you released a pent up sigh, your body finally given the chance to relax. But, it tensed up once again when a hand reached around and grabbed your chin, making you look up into bright pinkish red eyes, the slits boring into you. “ compared to the moons, you have a trouble with following orders, don’t you?” His voice, it was Muzan, you were so focused on his beautiful eyes that you hadn’t realized it was him. Crickets rang out around you, as you gulped softly and looked away from him, but he squeezed your face harder, his nails digging into your skin, “ don’t look away, I’m talking to you.” Looking back at him, you winced slightly with the pressure being released. “ why did you come here when I told you not to.” It was hard to talk when he was pulling up on your face, grabbing his arm and pulling his hand off of you. He always did like that fiestyness about you. “ I just wanted to help ok!” You yelled, feeling your emotions come forward as you tried to keep from crying. “ I just…. I feel so useless when your around… you’ve opened up to me and I haven’t been able to help out on anyway and it kills me! I’m alone, your the only one I have and I want to help you more. I know I’m useless but I don’t want to be… I want to be more… for you.” You cried, putting your head down so he wouldn’t see your tears. You knew Muzan hated seeing you cry, he wasn’t one for any kind of despair and others showing it. “ I’m so sorry…. I didn’t want to go against your orders. I’m so useless, aren’t I?” You cried, just wanting to disappear and never come back. Feeling his hand once again at your chin, he lifted you up as you looked into his eyes, they had returned back to their normal pupils and the beautiful color they always were. He hated to admit it but he loves your eyes just as much as he loves his own. He was a perfectionist, both in body and mind. When something wasn’t perfect, he was outraged, and he could feel it boiling with in him seeing you cry. You were so much more beautiful and perfect when you didn’t shed tears and there was a smile upon your face. “ stop it…. dry your tears, you know I hate it when you cry.” He told you, and yes, you knew all too well.

“ I’m sorry….” “ your not useless.” He told you, helping you wipe your tears and raising your hair out of your face so he could see your glistening orbs. “ for a human…. your as perfect as perfect gets. Your eyes are beautiful, every time I see them I want to gouge them out and have them on me always,” while for others, they would be terrified and disgusted, you felt a ping of happiness run through you, for this was Muzan’s way of showing his affection. He ran a sharp nail down your cheek, along your collar and to your arms, “ your skin is clear and is always bright even when the sun isn’t out. It’s magnificent.” He hummed as a light blush dusted your cheeks. “ let it be known you are not useless in any way. Your beautiful and your mine, if anyone hurts you or threatens your beauty,” his eyes flashed for a split second making you shudder. “ I’ll kill them.” He said as you smiled softly. You always loved when he got protective like that. “ are you done with work? Can you come back for the night?” You asked in a begging tone as he thought on it. “ I don’t see why not..” “ yay!” Grabbing a hold of his arm, he was startled by your sudden action, almost losing his hat, but held it on and let you pull him along. “ now you can stay over and try some of my new recipes!” You said excitedly, making Muzan smile softly, happy to see your back to your normal self.

[askkrenko]

Krenko’s Guide to Pokemon: Pichu Line

Ah, the main character. Let’s bitch about it! DESIGN: Pikachu is scientifically proven to be the perfect design. Simple but expressive, cute but cool, round and jagged, Pikachu is the the mascot for Pokemon because they knew they’d struck gold when they designed him. He’s some sort of rodent, but also some sort of lightning bolt, and there’s nothing out there that’s really like Pikachu. Sure, there’s other adorable mascots, but Pikachu is its own thing.

Raichu, then, is... good. Raichu is still cute. Raichu is still badass. Raichu has a soft but tough design that a lot of pokemon try for and only a few really perfect. However, Raichu is incomplete. It’s starting to become more but still feels so... small. And there’s a reason for this: It’s a middle form. The final evolution, Gorochu, got cut from Pokemon Red and Blue for space, and for reasons I will complain about shortly, never returned. While we don’t have full imagery for Gorochu, we know its back sprite, and vague descriptions of it, and it would’ve been the normal final form ‘angry badass’ style... Though fan interpretations still tend to make it rather cute. This isn’t really the place to talk about what could have been, but take a look HERE for a great interpretation of Gorochu. My point is just that Raichu wasn’t designed as a final form and you can kind of tell by looking at it.

Pichu... is a waste of time. Look, I get it, Pikachu’s cute, and breeding is showing up in the next game, so time to make babby Pikachu, but let’s be honest: Pichu’s not actually cuter than Pikachu, it’s just “less cool Pikachu.” It doesn’t look softer, it doesn’t look more huggable, and it sucks in Smash Brothers.  Also, the idea of a ‘baby pikachu’ is sort of silly when Pikachu’s already one of the smallest, weakest Pokemon there is. And I don’t say this to disparage it, but it’s a very early game pokemon that you find in the wild as low as level 3 or that you get as a starter. There’s no need for ‘pikachu but small.’ Pikachu’s already small.  Pichu shifts the potential line from “Pikachu, Raichu, Gorochu” to “Pichu, Pikachu, Raichu” and while I respect the idea of moves that it can only learn if raised as a Pichu,  the only one that mattered when it was introduced was Charm... So it was a really roundabout way to let your Raichu know Charm. At least Nasty Plot was added later. I don’t inherently mind the concept of the Pichu as the first form in the PIkachu line, and if it was well implemented in the games I could really respect it, but Pikachu has always been such and early game pokemon that Pichu feels entirely redundant to me.

And then there’s Alolan Raichu. Alolan Raichu is soft, round, golden brown, and looks like it’s fresh out of the oven. I just want to shove it in my mouth and OMNOMNOM. It’s soft, adorable, and yet because of its rounded edges and unique tail-surfing manuever it looks far more complete than Raichu ever did. Don’t get me wrong, I still love Kantonian Raichu- hell I used to date a Kantonian Raichu- but Alolan Raichu just looks so much more like it’s right in being its own thing.  I also love the idea of making a Surfing Raichu after Surfing Pikachu was a thing, and making it Psychic so it can surf on air instead of water is just a stroke of brilliance. I just love this fluffy pancake monster so much. EVOLUTIONS: Pichu can evolve twice, and has two final forms, but I have to say I think its method of doing so is a hot mess.  First off, Pichu only evolves into Pikachu via friendship with the trainer, but all baby Pikachu are Pichu, so how are there ANY Pikachu in the wild? At the very least why are there so many more wild Pikachu than Pichu? Friendship evolutions are great, but anything that needs Friendship to evolve should be RARE. And Friendship should really be the last stage of evolution, not the first. Pikachu to Raichu is a Thunder Stone, and sure. I have no problem with Stone Evolution. I do think we’ve got a few too many stones these days, and not enough evolutions for each, though. Thunderstone has been around since Red and Bue, and yet only evolved Pikachu and Eevee until Gen 5, which only added Eelektrik, and now in gen 8 it only gained two more Pokemon.  Hell, Fire Stone still only works on four pokemon, three of which are gen 1.... But this is about Pichu, and  Pikachu to Raichu with a Thunderstone is fine.

What’s weird to me is that the way to get Alolan Raichu is still with a Thunderstone, but in Alola. I love regional variants, and when they’re a whole line like Rattata, that’s great, but it’s weird to me that Alolan Raichu is only available in Alola, and it seems like an oversight that’s already come to bite them in the ass as both Let’s Go and SwSh have had to include randos who will trade you Alolan Raichu for Kantonian Raichu.  You know what would’ve worked better?  Everything in its dex entry says the reason it evolves that way is because of too many pancakes. So why not a pancakes item that just happens to be much easier to get in Alola? Sure, it’s another new evolution item, but if every game’s going to have Alolan Raichu anyway, might as well. Or make it something like “Feed your Pikachu 10 Big Malasada.”  Of course, Alolan Pichu and Pikachu could’ve been an option, but that seems like going a bit crazy.

The availability to turn your Pikachu into an Electric type OR an Electric/Psychic type is great, but the fact that there’s no actual way to make the choice with a given Pikachu in a given game is a pain in the butt.

There’s also a Gigantimax Pikachu for SwSh players who have Let’s Go Pikachu save files, which is cute, but as it’s still using Pikachu stats, you’re better off with a Raichu.

TYPING:  Pure electric type’s actually a solid type to be. Resistant to flying, steel, and electric, only weak to ground, and STAB on electric moves is entirely decent.  Sure, ground types ruin your day entirely, but other than that you just have to watch out for grass and dragons resisting... but they’re not super-effective against Raichu so you just need coverage for that. 

Alolan Raichu’s typing is more wild. Four weaknesses, five resistances, two types of STAB. It can use Psychic against Ground types and Electricity against Dark types just fine, but it’s not exactly covering its own weaknesses. Still, it’s hardly a problem.

STATS:  You know, for all the people who think PIkachu’s so great, people don’t seem to realize that outside of Let’s Go, where it got a major stat inflation, Pikachu is not significantly than the other starter pokemon. In fact, it was weaker until it got a defense buff in gen 6.  With a stat total of 320, it’s just an early game pokemon, that even with Gigantimax, Light Ball, and all the other special Pikachu love, you should just evolve it. Yes, technically Light Ball gives it an attack and special attack higher than a Raichu (110 and 100 compared to 90 and 90 or 85 and 95) but the Raichu can more than make up for that with, say, a Life Orb, which brings its damage  up over Light Ball Pikachu’s while not bringing it’s defenses down nearly as far as Pikachu’s.

As a catch there, did you notice where I said 110 and 100? Pikachu has higher physical attack than special attack. And  Kantonian Raichu’s are equal to each other. You’d look at this thing and think it was a special attacker, but no, Pikachu was built to throw down.  Alolan Raichu does have the edge toward special, but not so much that it can’t use a physical attack if it wants to. 

Like most electric types, these boys are fast. Pikachu’s speed is a whopping 90, and Raichu’s is 110. 

Pichu is a pile of garbage with a stat total of a mere 205, which only compares favorably to Caterpie if you’re really impressed by Pichu going first. The only reason Pichu should exist is for use as a trash mob on first routes, but the only game that’s done that is Sun and Moon and even they made it super rare.

Raichu and Alolan Raichu have an overall stat total of 485, which is on the low end of good for end-game. They do have a lot of ‘redundant’ stat points in that they have both good physical and special attack and really don’t need both, but their attack stats and speed are high enough to compete, even if they’re rather frail.

ABILITIES: 

Kantonian Raichu (as well as Pichu and Pikachu) generally knows Static. Static is an entirely useful ability that gives a 30% chance to paraylze the enemy whenever they use an attack on Raichu that make contact. The problem with this ability is that most attacks that make contact are physical and physical defense is Raichu’s poorest stat.  It’s not a useless ability by any stretch of the imagination, but it has a 30% chance to work when things are going poorly for Raichu. Its Hidden Ability, Lightning Rod, is far more useful. LIghtning Rod grants full immunity to electric attacks, increases Raichu’s power if struck by an electric attack, and, in double battles, means that enemy electric attacks can only target Raichu (though this doesn’t stop multi-target electric attacks.)  In single battles, this ability is mostly used to switch Raichu into an electric attack, steal the stat boost while protecting another pokemon, and then start sweeping with a relatively potent special attacker. Despite Raichu’s equal attack stats, this is one of many reasons it tends to be used as a special attacker. In double battles, it’s even better. Setting a pokemon with Lightning Rod down next to a pokemon weak to electricity covers its weakness perfectly, and many battles have been won by pairing a Lightning Rod pokemon with Gyarados. Lightning Rod takes strategy to use, but any successful use of it can really swing a battle in your favor.

Alolan Raichu has a unique ability called Surge Surfer, which doubles its speed in Electric Terrain. As there are NO pokemon with more than twice Alolan Raichu’s speed, this means in Electric Terrain, Alolan Raichu will always go first if there’s no other effects in play. Now, actually getting Electric Terrain up can be difficult, but Max Lightning sets it up, Raichu can learn the move to create it by TM, and a few other pokemon can set it up just by existing, making it a lot more reliable in double battles.  MOVES: By virtue of being the main character, the Pichu line has a LOT of good moves.  Pichu learns Nasty Plot, which is the best reason to raise your own from an egg. As with Lightning Rod, Nasty Plot is a reason Raichu wants to use its special attacks more than its physical ones.... Which is a shame because a properly bred Pichu is the only thing that can learn Volt Tackle, a 120 Power, 100 accuracy electric move with recoil damage and a chance to paralyze.  So Kantonian Raichu just uses good old Thunderbolt as its electric attack. 

Alolan Raichu might want Thunderbolt as well, but if you are building for Electric Terrain, it has another option as well: Electro Ball. Electro Ball’s damage is based on how fast your pokemon is compared to the opponent, and with Surge Surfer it’s not difficult for an Alolan Raichu Electro Ball to have a base power of 120 or even hit its max of 150. 

Now that we’ve got our sweep setup (Nasty Plot or Electric Terrain) and our electric attack (Thunderbolt or Electro Ball) it’s time to look at what else these mice can do. 

Kantonian Raichu only gets a few non-electric special moves, none of which it learns naturally.  Surf and Grass Knot are both potent special attacks against the dreaded Ground-Type Pokemon, enabling Raichu to try sweeping right through them, with Grass Knot generally better against high-powered ground types. Focus Blast is a hell of a drug at 120 power, but 70% accuracy makes it incredibly unreliable. Volt Switch is a decent option for switching out, but once you set up a Nasty Plot sweeper you really don’t want to ever switch out.  Maybe take Surf AND Grass Knot so anything immune to Lightning Bolt knows you really mean business.

Alolan Raichu can get all the important special attacks Kantonian Raichu can, but is also a Psychic type. This means it can learn Psychic, but I’d actually suggest learning Psyshock over that. Against the majority of Pokemon, Thunderbolt or Electro Ball will do quite well after you’ve set up, and while Psyshock is slightly weaker than Psychic, it has the benefit of targeting SPecial Defense instead of Physical Defense. This means a Special Wall, like Blissey, won’t stop you cold.  This does work a lot better with Nasty Plot than Electric Terrain, of course, as Electric Terrain only boosts electric damage, but of course that’s the trade-off. Either way, still take Surf or Grass Knot. Gotta show those ground types whatfor.

Alolan Raichu has its own unique Z-Move, Stoked Sparksurfer, which is just a better version of Gigavolt Havoc, doing the same damage when used off Thunderbolt and paralyzing the target if it manages to survive. This is particularly powerful, but whether or not Z-Moves return will remain to be seen.

Pikachu also has two of its own unique Z-Moves, Catastropika and 10,000,000 Volt Thunderbolt, but as Z-Crystals and Light Ball both take the item slot, using either of these moves means you’re back down to 55 attack and 50 special attack, and thus wasting everyone’s time even with a 210 power move. 

In Double Battles, Raichu gets even more utility. It can learn both Charm and Eerie Impulse, Fake out, Protect, Encore, Nuzzle, and all sorts of other solid moves for messing with an opponent. Interestingly, many of these attacks require it being a Pichu first... or at least they did. I think in SwSh you can just move relearn them even as a Raichu, making Pichu even more useless. Double Battles also let it take advantage of Thunder, which gains perfect accuracy in the rain, if your other pokemon is, say, a Pelipper with Drizzle or another water pokemon that really wants to hide behind Raichu’s Lightning Rod.

OVERALL: I love this stupid little thing and everything about it except for Pichu which is dumb and awful. I own multiple Pikachus and I like to hug them. Alolan Raichu is one of my favorite Pokemon ever. I used a Raichu back in Blue and her name was Amanda and I loved her bunches.  Raichu’s an entirely solid pokemon to just have in your lineup, but really shines in double battles as both Lightning Rod and Surge Surfer have more utility there, and Raichu can combine its utility with its ability to just end someone’s life with Thunderbolt. 

And in doubles you can even use Volt Tackle because it’s not like you’re going to Nasty Plot a special sweeper out of this marshmallow in 2v2.  You’re just gonna keep ruining an opponent’s ability to do stuff until you have an opening to hit with a 120 power electric attack. 

[hellzyeahwebwielingessays]

Mayday IS NOT a Mary Sue!

I’ve heard this assertion before and it’s just bullshit.

To tackle this topic I’m going to crank the dial up to ‘Very difficult’ and strictly look at Mayday’s debut in What If…v2 #105. Were I to take her entire character history into consideration the accusation would crumble like wet paper.

Now, there is no absolute definitive definition of what a Mary Sue is, though there are broad overlaps between the definitions. Those overlaps really boil down to an over idealized character/female character (the male equivalent is Gary Stu or Marty Stu).

For the purposes of this discussion (and because this is what I’ve seen the accusations revolve around), the idea of her being a Mary Sue hinges upon three key points:

She is not flawed

Everyone likes her

And

She masters her powers/wins her first fight with no difficulty

Let’s tackle them each at a time.

She lacked personality flaws?

Well she seemed a bit of a hothead, rather melodramatic and arguably (because she planned on returning to action) deceitful at the very end of the story. She also considered herself a freak and was upset that her athletic accomplishments were the result of her powers not her own hard work. And of course her sense of self was radically rocked when she learned her father was Spider-Man.

Whilst not a personality flaw per se, a source of contention in her life was that she didn’t fit in neatly with any of the school cliques. She was smart enough to hang with the nerds but also athletic enough to hang out with the jocks and as a result was forced to choose between them. This in turn hurt her romantic prospects the boy she liked, Brad Miller.

This is integral to the story because through her alter ego Mayday can combine her intellect and athleticism and be her truest self.

Ah, but does this not then reinforce the accusation that everybody likes her? Poor Mayday. Her problem is too many  people like her. Cry me a river right?

Well, hold on a minute. Why is the idea of people liking the character a mark of a Mary Sue in the first place? It can’t just be a realism issue as many characters can be celebrities or beloved public figures. Bruce Wayne (out of costume) and Wonder Woman are beloved by most of the general public. So is Thor, Captain America and arguably Tony Stark and ¾ of the Fantastic Four.

Obviously villains dislike them though. In this vein then Normie Osborn in What if v2 #105 would dispel the accusation. But let’s be honest, that’s a little cheap isn’t it? Obviously villains aren’t going to like the hero, they wouldn’t be effective villains if they did *glares at Kylo Ren*.

So why are those characters not regarded as Mary Sue’s then? Well, the simple answer would be that the general adoration from others isn’t really that big of a deal for most of those characters. The general public do not strictly speaking need to like the F4 (and in fact have vacillated in their opinion of them), they just need to be famous.

In contrast Spider-Man had a poor public reputation due to Jameson and this is regarded as a hallmark of the character. It’s such a hallmark that it made it into the first 2 movies and later in Spider-Girl the fact that she had a far better public image was highlighted more than once.

So what’s going on here?

Well basically a character is a Mary Sue when everybody loves them at it either serves no story purpose, or if it’s a cheap way of conveying how much the audience should love a character. Or if it makes the character’s lives easier without them putting any work into it.

To give you an example from anime Son Goku and Usagi Tskunio (from Dragon Ball and Sailor Moon respectively, two of the most popular anime ever) typically made friends easily and even converted enemies into allies more than once.

Does this make them Mary Sues?

No, because the people who became friends or allies didn’t just immediately or easily evolve into those roles. Work and effort was put into that by Goku and Usagi respectively. They endured pain or displayed bravery or sacrifice or put their hearts on the line to convince someone to bet better

Now, I’m not saying Mayday’s popularity came about through methods like that. We do not know how Mayday became as popular as she is, though we can easily infer it’s due to her athleticism, physical attractiveness and brains. She’d fit into multiple cliques in school so it’s not unbelievable that her company would be desired by them.

What ultimately disproves her as a Mary Sue in this regard though is that there is a price to pay for that popularity. She is forced to choose between the groups and thus undermine friendships with one group or another. And she can never fully be herself…until she becomes Spider-Girl that is.

Basically Mayday being popular doesn’t make her a Mary Sue because it comes at a personal cost. Her life would honestly be easier if she was just a jock or a nerd.

Of course the counterpoints to that are that it’s a pretty minor concern all things in the grand scheme of life. And if she brings those two halves together as Spider-Girl then she’s solved her problem hasn’t she?

Well for starters, not fitting in exactly with any one group, undermining one set of friendships due to servicing another, juggling those social circles?

That might be a piece of cake next to what Peter Parker dealt with in high school, but for many teenagers it is actually pretty important.

In much the same way that scale matters in super powered conflicts, scale matters in terms of emotional conflicts too. We might argue May has it easier than Peter, but Peter had it arguably easier than the X-Men, or the Silver Surfer or ben Grimm. This is why his romantic or financial struggles were as compelling as (if not more so than) those of the Avengers efforts to save the world.

Mayday is 15. She is growing up. She is still figuring out who she is. So yes, her place in the high school hierarchy (especially in 1990s America no less) and social situation would be important to her. And it is she who is ultimately our POV character.

As for the second point about the two halves of her lives, it’s true. Mayday’s emotional conflict of being pulled between two groups reconciles by the end of the story because she bridges the gap. But for starters, let’s remember Mayday was designed to be a done-on-one character with merely the possibility of a continuation. So reconciling her emotional conflict by the end of the story makes a lot of sense narratively. However, the reality is when she became an on-going character it really wasn’t a big deal.

This is because, whilst she bridged that gap as Spider-Girl, she can’t be Spider-Girl ALL the time!

She has to at some point take the mask off ad go to school and in that environment she still needs to juggle not seeming nerdy to the jocks but not seeming like a jock to the nerds. She would still need to sacrifice potential romance and team building experiences with the jocks or sacrifice arguably more substantial friendships she’s held since childhood.

Okay, so being liked by everyone in context  doesn’t render Mayday a Mary Sue.

But surely we cannot defend her fighting prowess? In her first ever encounter with a villain, her first ever fight, her first ever use of the webshooters she won, and seemingly didn’t stumble.

How can this be defended? Isn’t that at least approaching Rey from the Star Wars sequels levels of unearned skill?

First of all, May should be graded on a curve for the simple reason that she wasn’t invented to be strictly speaking an on-going character. Her whole character arc might’ve begun and ended in What If v2 #105 so given the story, of course we weren’t going to see a training montage.

But even if you ignore that the accusation doesn’t really add up.

For starters it’s pretty obvious her opponent (unlike Rey’s rival, Kylo Ren) was not overly experienced. He seemed to know how to use the weapons in his possession but was clearly emotionally unstable seeing as he was beaten by such an obvious way.

May’s internal thoughts throughout the fight also make it clear she is mostly winging it. She isn’t fighting as effectively as an experienced Spider-Man against an experienced Goblin. She is mostly riding on instinct and her strategy, whilst ultimately effective, is also very rudimentary.

She spots Normie’s gloves are capable of an electrical discharge when she webbed up his hand.

She knows he uses pumpkin bombs because she saw one when he attacked her earlier; plus it’s likely someone just knows about such an infamous super villain.

So she waits for him to pull out a pumpkin bomb then webs up his hand again, hoping he’ll react by using his discharge and blowing himself up. 

Amidst this she needles him to make him emotional and throw him off balance increasing the chances he’ll use his best weapon (the pumpkin bomb) and not think through his actions. 

Let’s also consider she webs up the same hand twice, which would make Normie consider his reaction even less.

It’s a basic but it got the job done. Mayday wouldn’t have needed to be a genius or an experienced fighter to have come up with that plan.

But as it happens her parents are two people who between them have scientific acumen, strong social skills, a penchant for getting inside people’s heads or under their skin and are very quick witted and resourceful. It’s not really necessary for the story to spell out for us that Mayday could have inherited these traits and/or observed them in practice growing up.*

From a storytelling POV, because we the audience are familiar enough with Peter and MJ (even if you don’t know that many specific stories) that context is part of the subtext of the story. So Mayday possessing those essential skills isn’t a cheap ass pull or anything.

But what about her use of Peter’s powers? She didn’t stumble with them, not even once.

Well, putting aside how the narration makes it clear she’s riding by the skin of her teeth more than once, this is justified when we compare to Peter himself.

I know that in Spider-Man 2002 and Amazing Spider-man 2012 Peter practiced with his powers and did stumble a bit in his use of them. But those were live action movies that demand a certain greater degree of realism because we have actual human beings right in front of us. They were also made 4-14 years after What If v2 #105. Additionally, whilst Maguire and Garfield’s Peter’s did have to stumble a bit, the key phrase there is ‘a bit’. 

They got the hang of their powers pretty quickly, with Maguire’s Peter trouncing Flash Thompson with ease.

Garfield meanwhile defended himself from people in a tiny subway carriage practically by accident.

Maguire’s Spidey got the hang of web swinging on his second try.

For the original 616 Peter Parker, the situation was even easier. IIRC aside from one flashback story showcasing Peter accidentally failing to control his strength, Peter had a handle on all his abilities pretty quickly, including web-swinging. Very  early into his career he held his own against four experienced heroes simultaneously. Specifically the Fantastic Four.

This was (in publication order) the first ever time Peter battled anyone with powers of their own. And remember, this event is 100% canonical to Spider-Girl’s universe. Her version of Peter Parker (her father) battled the F4 exactly this way.

Ah, but that was written in 1963. Standards weren’t as believable or grounded as they were circa 1998. Well, what about Ultimate Spider-Man from 2000? A series that was actually bucking trends because  it was more grounded and realistic (allegedly)? In this universe Peter had his powers for a while before he first ever super villain battle and had dealt with some petty crooks before.

Nevertheless he too was very effective when he first fought Ultimate Green Goblin. Ultimate Goblin wasn’t great at critical thinking, but he was overwhelming stronger than Peter and more durable. And yet, Peter at the very least held his own in the fight.

So it seems spider powers don’t require much practice before you can use them in combat. You can at least avoid attacks, hold your own and grasp the basics of web-swinging pretty quickly.

When looking at the 616 version of Spider-Man’s (and by extension Spider-Girl’s) powers this makes a lot of sense.

To begin with wall-crawling was second nature to Peter in the 616 universe and Ultimate Universe.

More importantly the Spider Sense is a MASSIVE factor in Peter and Mayday’s respective fighting styles and was explicitly a factor in Mayday’s duel with Normie.

The Marvel wiki had this to say about Peter’s spider sense on his main page:

Spider-Sense: Spider-Man possesses a precognitive danger or "spider" sense which warns him of potential or immediate danger by the manifestation of a tingling sensation in the back of his skull, and links with his superhuman kinesthetics, enabling him to evade most any injuries, unless he cognitively overrides his automatic reflexes… Spider-Man's spider-sense is directional and can guide him to or away from hidden weapons and enemies. Sudden and extreme threats can cause his spider-sense to react with painful intensity. Spider-Man can also sense and dodge attacks directed randomly or by an artificial intelligence. Using his spider-sense to time his enhanced reflexes, Spider-Man can casually dodge attacks up to and including automatic-weapons fire, provided there is sufficient distance. His spider-sense is sufficiently well-linked to his reflexes to the point that a threat can trigger them even when Spider-Man is asleep or stunned.

This is further corroborated in ‘The Amazing Spider-Man: The Ultimate Guide Updated Edition’, written by Tom DeFalco, co-creator of What if v2 #105

Additionally, ASM #656 established that Peter’s Spider Sense helped him greatly when web-swinging by subconsciously guiding his aim towards safe anchor points.**

So Mayday’s proficiency with her newfound powers is actually not all that surprising. Her Spider-Sense actively compensated for her lack of experience. And if we look at her battle with Normie her predominant tactic is to just dodge and keep him distracted. The latter doesn’t really require training just some common sense and guts. The former is practically the wholesale function of the Spider-Sense in the first place.

Still don’t buy it?

Still think this is all a stretch?

Think that the Spider-Sense is just cheating?

Maybe you think dodging is one thing, but Mayday actively attacks Normie three times in the battle.

She saves herself from freefall and then transitions that into a strike against him.

She webbed up his hand accurate in the midst of the fight twice!

Her ability to do all that in her first fight, with no training, surely proves her for the Mary Sue she is.

Well here is something even I never considered until today…Mayday was already  athletic before  she gained her powers.

Mayday had won herself a spot on the Midtown High girls basketball team.

The story doesn’t say when this happened but her familiarity with the team and the popular kids not on the team heavily implies she’s been on the team for a while. She talks about possibly getting a shot at scholarship or going pro. This again implies basketball isn’t just a recent new hobby, that she’s been into it for a while; an idea confirmed in her on-going solo book. This is further alluded to when Mayday laments that she believed her athletic skills were the result of training, practice and hard work.

That line itself implies Mayday has in fact had her powers all along and been unwittingly been using them. This would mean that Mayday had been practicing on the court for many years, giving her a handle on her skills that she could bring to bear against Normie.***

However, earlier in the story Peter and MJ have a shocked reaction to Mayday’s slam dunk. Along with their dialogue this implies Mayday actually didn’t have any powers before the start of the story.

Regardless, if Mayday trained, practiced and worked hard as a basketball player (and was good enough to make the team) she’d have developed certain skills. Skills that would have been transferable to her duel with Normie.

She’d have developed hand-eye co-ordination. Hence her ability to aim her webs and strikes accurately.

She’d have developed an awareness of the physics of he body. As in what movements in relation to the situation would generate what result. Like for example when she transitioned her swing into a kick.

She’d have had a certain knowledge of basic physics, because she’d need the ball to go where she’d need it to go. As in if she pushes off left with her arms out she should travel X distance. If she curls up her body it will slow her down, etc.

She’d have developed muscle memory and been able to move on instinct. Hence she could still be great at dodging even without her powers.

She would’ve known how to observe terrain and her opponents. E.g. she knew how to use the bridge’s shape to create a pendulum motion and kick Normie. And she knew observed his electrical discharge attack and pumpkin bombs.

She would’ve learned how to use the terrain and her opponents’ strengths and weaknesses to her advantage. Hence she, you know…won the fight.

And she would’ve known how to perform under pressure. She wasn’t thrown off by her powers or Normie’s almost lethal attacks.

All of these factors would’ve served her incredibly well in her fight.

When taken all together NO.

Mayday Parker is not, and was never, a Mary Sue.

*Mayday’s scientific knowledge would also have served her very well in being able to figure out the right way to move in the battle. For example when she broke her freefall and turned the swing into an attack.

**We might also speculate it was the Spider-Sense that guided Mayday in how to use trigger the web-shooters through the double-tap mentioned in the story.

Although frankly Spider-Man being such a famous and well documented hero the general public have probably seen him shoot a web and thus know about his famous hand gesture. So Mayday, being intelligent (let alone scientifically clever like her Dad) probably deduced how to activate the web-shooters.

***Not to mention, the scene demonstrates Mayday testing out her powers. So she didn’t walk into battle with Normie completely unaware of what she might be capable of.

[sereisstuff]

ｗａｔｅｒ ｓｐｉｒｉｔ 2

merman!jungkook x chubby reader

summary of the tale - Jungkook was the son of Poseidon and you were a mortal what more was to come when you were saved by him, friendship?. or will this end in a tragic tale of war between love and law.

summary of this chapter - Jungkook being adamant on persisting this facade while you still fall clueless to his lie

genres - romance, friendship, comedy and angst (further on)

(two posts in one night ugh who am I?? I stan myself *goes back into hibernation after this* anyways folks I also have chapter 3 lined up for this series and am now writing chapter 4)

Your feet padded quickly across the broken wood of the wharf, jumping over the unhinged pieces and quickly regaining your own movements with a clenched fist, knuckles bearing a pale white with a light pink restoring the stretch.

“y/n” Jungkook happily yelled, his bright smile blinding you for a second as your own stretched upon your lips, you greeted back jokingly “Hey, waterboy” he pouted, enjoying the small nickname none the less.

“How was your day?” you asked, grabbing your can of coca-cola and chugging it down with a bag of chips dropped next to you, Jungkook sighed, elbows leaned against the edges of your feet as he began to express his feelings “not as bad as I thought but still boring, having something to look forward too was my motivation,” he said, watching you with an intense gaze of curiosity, his pale blue eyes flickering between the chips and the loathsome canned drink you held in between your fingertips.

Your foot nudged his shoulder as you glanced up from your half-eaten chip a goofy expression resting on your face “four months and I have yet to hear any other answer” you threw your chip into your mouth resting your weight on your arms as you leaned back.

“I-i’m not hiding anything if that’s what you’re implying” he stuttered, hair straddled in a mop of mess mirroring his worry but you could care less as you munched on your most favoured chips, sipping on the drink “well are you?” you questioned, gazing out into the open ocean. Clearly, you were joking but your fellow friend was adjusting to the fact that you indeed knew his ‘secret’ ….

“I’m kidding, don’t look so frightened” you chuckled, closing your eyes to embrace the shuddering feeling of the open breeze “so, how was your day, cherub?” jungkook cooed, you blushed as he uttered the nickname that brought a crimson red to your excessive cheeks, curling your lips into a smile you replied “class” was your bland answer.

You noticed his attention drawn to your chips grabbing the packet then offering him a few “try one” you demanded, Jungkook hesitated, soaked fingers reaching for a chip before you move the pack of delightful snacks away and grabbing a few for him “you might soak my chips” he understood what you meant “rude” although he still replied.

Placing them in his hands for him to enjoy only for him to close his eyes, chewing ever so slowly with the chip in between his teeth, you analysed his reaction “good?” you asked, his voice muffled with fulfilment as he placed his pinky up wriggling it in the air a sign that he did enjoy it, you chuckled, half confused but the other half enjoying the view.

“I’m glad, these are my favourite I’ll make sure to buy a few more packets next time I come” his eyes lit as you mentioned the delectable chips “well give me the rest then” Jungkook reached for your packet in the speed of light, you faster than him as you were in your element ripped the packet from his palms.

“No, no, nooo, these are mine” Jungkook huffed, blowing a damp strand from his glistening forehead “sorry, these are mine” you repeated in a high pitched tone shrugging your shoulders, eating the chips with a pleased smile until a splash of water came flying on your face wetting the edges of your hair and a loud evil chuckle emitting from your spirited friend, you spat out a few droplets of water before opening your eyes to jungkook smiling as he hummed an unknown tune with the chips in his mouth.

“What?- it’s only fair that I get this one, you can buy you some more, you have legs” he defended, shoving copious amounts of chips between his lips as his eyes sparkled at the feeling of a new taste melting in his mouth, you tilted your head slightly agreeing “valuable point if I had money!!” you ended clenching your teeth, muttering death threats.

“Money?” he added raising a brow.

“Something that helps me get these” you gestured to your half-eaten food, you switched positions, laying on your full belly with a bit of discomfort as you played with the water, making subtle splashes towards Jungkook who now finished his food placing the packet near you.

And then a splash spread across your face with a groan you looked at jungkook defeated “I swear, I’ll jump in the water and choke you” you threatened with empty words, jungkook rolled his eyes with a smirk “why? it wasn’t me” he coughed and you frowned not believing anything coming from his mouth

“Look” he pointed beneath the wharf and you trembled, why must you stare into an abyss of darkness all for the sake of finding out who splashed you “you know what I think I’m good” and then a giggle echoed from beneath you, not one but multiple. Children whispered as the hairs on your neck straightened.

“They do this all the time”

“They like to mess with humans a lot but their harmless” Jungkook continued, looking under the wharf, as he was about to summon them out he realized they would only listen to him if he used his title, shaking his head, unprepared to do so he ignored them, biting his lip nervously “just ignore them” 

You nodded sighing as you twirled the necklace in between your fingers admiring the glint it held once the metal meets the emitting light of the moon “it’s beautiful isn’t” Jungkook muttered, his head just inches away from yous as you just continued to admire it, humming in response.

“It is, how did you make it” he grinned, eyes moving down to his hands as your gaze followed helplessly, inching a bit more to the edge as the wind nipped at your skin, he began to sway his hands beneath the water, mesmerized by his movements, the water began to combust into his power following his every silent command.

Different shapes began to form from his palms, surrounding you as they twinkled, different shades of a clear blue shone around you in little groups, you giggled “Wow” unknown to jungkook who laughed with you happy his abilities could bring a joyful smile to your face and his for once.

Maybe it wasn’t the power that made him smile, your friendship was a gift and he cherished every hour you spend with him his only real friend not trying to kill him or befriend him due to his father, the one person who genuinely enjoyed his company as much as he enjoyed yours.

“Your amazing” you coed unaware of what left you mouth but that didn’t stop jungkook from blushing out of embarrassment “no, you are,” said Jungkook, his mind wandering off elsewhere totally forgetting that the water he placed around you was only there out of focus, as he began moving his hands to scratch his wet neck.

Delicate was all you could think of that was until the water came splashing down, soaking your body as you lay mortified, trembling at the touch of the gifts of the sea yet licking your lips before snapping your head up at your most favoured merman with a furious gaze “can you be any less playful” you growled getting up from your positing.

Jungkook raced to your aid immediately spitting apologies “I-i didn’t mean too, please don’t leave” he pleaded desperately, you grab your rubbish stuffing them in your pockets as you glared down at him, his sorry gaze fell on you as you curled your hands warning yourself not to fall into his trap.

“Please” he pouted, knowing now that is was all fun and games, water spirits we’re playful creatures always mistaken to be vicious yet here he was pouting at a mere mortal being asking for forgiveness after he spilt buckets worth of water all over her.

“Your a blessing and a curse?” you mumbled bending on your knees “but I really do have to go,” he sighed, this was always his least-liked part “why can't you stay for a bit longer” gazing into his pale pools which sunk ever so deeply into your own hues, sharing his longing for 

the company but you still had class and even so if you did want to stay there was no chance.

“I’m going on a school trip tomorrow be it so like a small camp or a class picnic” you watched as he furrowed his brows, you tilted your head “but you wouldn’t know what that is would you?” you looked at the moon then at your friend, sadly part of you wished he did, the things you guys could do if he could come on to land, as for now you just enjoy every second of your guys friendship.

You ruffled his damp mop of brown locks, smiling in reassurance “I’ll only be down at the emerald lake not too far from here, okay, I’ll see you tomorrow at the same place” you got up but not before he pulled you back down “ah, you’re forgetting something” now this time you were confused, he turned his head now facing his chiselled jawline your way, you gulped.

“Ah” you reached out, about to awkwardly rub his side profile before he slapped your palm looking at you with disappointment as he shook his head “tsk, I meant a kiss on the cheek idiot” you made the loudest noise of understanding when you heard his response, rolling his eyes to once again try to get your lips on his soft cheek.

“There,” you said proudly after kissing his velvet cheek “be safe” he shouted as he watched you fade away, sighing again, he hated watching you walk away leaving him here with his thoughts knowing he’ll die if he ever left the water, not knowing whether or not he’ll ever see you again or with deafening thoughts of you losing interest in him, but he laid a thick armour of bravery on going into battle of mind with headstrong thoughts that you will come back, and you weren’t like that.

“My prince” one of the many guards swam from beneath the depth of the sea, gills adjusting to the infuriating pollution of air

Jungkook slumped as those words entered his ears “yes” he turned around sulking back to the kingdom.

“Jungkook” came a bustling voice, as he tumbled towards jungkook with open arms “Seokjin” his brother crashed on him, invading his privacy as he landed bubbled kisses on to his cheeks with a smirk “you went and saw that girl again didn’t you!!” Seokjin whisper shouted as jungkook growled “shush” his brother rolled his eyes “tell me, is she beautiful?” Seokjin ignored he pleads as he flicked his Finn when they both entered a bubble floating in the water.

Bubbles acted as soundproof rooms so in this case, they could speak freely “of course she is” jungkook replied with a smirk, remembering your face as you giggled at one of his fishy puns which you thought were hilarious due to their out of earth context.

“Don’t turn this into some angsty love story” warned jin, gasping for his life “maybe you’ll be the jack and she’ll be rose” Jungkook laughed playing with some floating bubbles that dispersed from the enlargened bubble they sat in “I can breathe underwater if you clearly remembered?” jungkook said sarcastically.

“Anyways it’s law even if I did, we all know what would happen” Jungkook groaned rolling his head back, Seokjin inched to the exit of the bubble “don’t tell anyone” jungkook cried, easily throwing those thoughts out for the sake of his brothers loyalty ‘I won’t” Seokjin promised “only if you tell me which beach you threw my titanic book at” 

“Are you being serious”

“very” Seokjin rejoiced watching his brother groan in agony “fine, I hid it in the tropical islands, now shoo you peasant” and with those words, Seokjin left his brother eagerly to find his book leaving jungkook to rest in his bubble.

[lovehugsandcandy]

Second Chances: Part 1 (ColtxMC, RoD)

A/N: First of 5 parts. Please read the warnings in each chapter.  Credit for inspiring me with magic goes to @client-327 and Externalizing which combines RoD and magic and I love that story and y’all should read it and I can’t wait for the next part. Hopefully posting this means I will get my act together for part 2.

Pairing: Colt x MC, references to Logan x MC, ROD

Length: ~2100 words

Rating/Warnings: PG-13 (This part has just swearing and references to canon-compliant death.)

Summary: Colt never believed in magic but maybe magic believed in him. 

His throat was closing, tongue swollen in his mouth. The smoke that hung in the air was so thick he could taste it, bitter and old, the stench of musty books and incense and a storefront that needed to be doused in bleach or steamrolled into dust. He had been sitting here, back straight in a creaky wooden chair, for far too long, exchanging glares with the old bat in front of him.

“I don’t believe in this shit.”

“Then why are you here?” She had a fair point, blinking owlishly at him behind bottle thick glasses. If he was such a skeptic, why was he here? 

“I have nothing to lose.” He tried to will his thoughts away from everything that had been taken, smoke and flame and burning wreckage haunting his dreams until he woke, throat raw and face wet. He tried not to think about everything that vanished, people who scattered, left to pursue dreams amid storied buildings that held no room for him.

“Tell me more.”

“I’m....” Colt didn’t even know the word he meant to say. Desperate? It fit but it wouldn’t come out, caught in the deep dark place where his pain hid until it exploded into fists of red. He leaned forward, hoping against hope that she could see into his soul and not find it wanting. “My dad died. Because of me. I spent my entire fucking life trying to get him to respect me, fuck, to get him to...and now-” He had to look away before his throat caught. “Now he’s dead.”

“And you want another chance.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I want another chance.”

The psychic, or psycho as he had taken to calling her in his head, blinked again at him and pushed a tendril of long grey hair behind her ear. “Ok. But how did you end up here?”

“Your ad online? It basically followed me around and jumped off the page.” It had been simple text, large red block letters against a black background: Psychic Cybill Alters Time and Place for the Magic of Second Chances. He noticed it the first time, and the second, and the third, and by the time its banner flashed over every single search he made, he thought he was losing his mind. Finally, it had been impossible for Colt to ignore, fresh off yet another nightmare of flames and pain, another round of being awoken by his own screams alone in a shitty, cash-only motel while he single-handedly tried to revive his father’s dreams. “I told you, I want another chance.”

Cybill sighed, groaning at the considerable effort needed to raise her ancient bones from the chair, and leaned heavily on her ornate wooden cane, hesitant steps making their way behind the counter. He followed, partly out of some sick curiosity and partly because she looked like she was going to keel over. He sure as hell should go to jail for some of the crimes in his past but he wasn’t about to go down for the involuntary manslaughter of some fraudster of an old lady who brained herself on her cash register. She fumbled around on her shelves until wrinkled fingers closed around a wooden box, barely larger than her palm.

“Here you go.” She slid it across the counter top.

He looked dubiously between her and the box. “What is it?”

“A second chance.” She opened the box, gingerly, and Colt leaned forward, peering inside. “You get one shot, one chance to fix it. Here’s your second chance.”

“Second chances look like shitty, second-rate tea leaves?”

“You don’t sound like you’re in any position to doubt me.”

He blinked. “You look like you could use some second chances yourself, old lady.”

“You have a lot of anger in you, child.”

“I didn’t come here for therapy.” He pushed off the glass counter top. “How do I know this isn’t bullshit?”

“Maybe I want to help you.”

“No one wants to help me.” He tried, and failed, to keep the bitter sting from his voice.

“Maybe I can. Maybe I can send you back so you can fix decisions made.”

“Maybe you can make pigs fly while you’re at it.”

“Enough, child.” The words came rough, still shaky, but her tone suggested that she was used to being obeyed. Colt just glared. “Take it. Boil some water, a cup and a half. Put all of it in a mug, steep it for three minutes exactly, then drink it, leaves and all.”

“How do I know this isn’t going to kill me?”

“You don’t.” She closed the box and slid it towards him. “But isn’t that a chance you are willing to take?”

He thought of the motel, his home base for months while he dodged rival gangs looking to fill the power vacuum his father’s death had caused. He thought of dodging the cops, cognizant every day of the warrant over his head. He thought of her, fully across the goddamn country, leaving him behind like the wisp of exhaust from the tailpipe of her shiny pink import. “How much?”

“What?”

“How much is it?”

“On the house.”

“That seems suspicious.”

“Everything has a cost. But some things are priceless.” She stared at him, through him, and Colt had the feeling that he was being caught in some web he couldn’t even fathom. “Take it.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“To help...to help you.” Her eyes seemed to dim, almost as if she were stepping into a trance or a memory. “Take it.”

He grabbed the box, fingers gliding over the smooth sides, the intricate pattern on the lid. “If this is a joke…”

“Then you can come back here and berate me some more. Now go.”

He took the box, shoving it in his jacket pocket before heading out the door without a second glance. But the entire ride home, he could feel eyes on him, someone, somewhere, watching him. 

It gave him the creeps.

When he got to the hotel, he made sure to lock the deadbolt, even though he knew it couldn’t stop the demons that trailed him. With a sigh, he pulled the box from his pocket. It was old, hinges squeaking as he opened it up to examine the contents. The leaves were dry, a mash of jagged pieces in varying shades of greens and browns. It looked like the fucking herbs shitheads used to sling on the corner when he was a kid, trying to tempt him with little baggies, the limited employment in Gramercy Park meaning the losers would even try to sell their wares to children walking home from school.

He didn’t even take his jacket off before he got everything ready. 

He followed the directions to the letter, choking the foul tea down, every bitter drop, every scratchy leaf of shitty tea, stomach turning as the vile liquid slid down his throat. He waited, toes tapping a nervous beat on the carpet, but he didn’t feel any different. He waited some more but, as the hours crept by and the moon seemed to follow him in the sky, nothing happened except for three hours of infomercials and a drunken fistfight in the hallway, Finally, he gave up. As he laid down in bed, he was disappointed but not shocked. He figured the old lady had played him, giving him snake oil and hope in return for her amusement.

But when he opened his eyes, he realized that he had no idea what he was dealing with.

He blinked. 

He was no longer in his bed in the shitty motel. He looked back in shock, where he was leaning against his bike, which had somehow driven him here and parked itself and put the kickstand down all on its own because last he checked, he was falling asleep. He looked in front of him, at the familiar cars and crowds and idiots who frequented this abandoned lost in West LA which, again, were not the drab walls of the motel where he bided his time.

He blinked again. He didn’t even think there was a sideshow today. Hell, he could have sworn that he had been in bed. 

Ah. A dream. At least this was a better start to his dreams than usual. Normally, the nightmares came hard, strong, without warning, leaving him sweating and shaking in bed. It wasn’t every night, though. Other times, he had better dreams, ones that still left him sweating in bed, but for a completely different reason.

And as if called from his subconscious, a familiar face wandered out from the crowd, looking about with stars in her eyes. He smirked. “Hey, sweetheart,” he called out. He may not know what dreamworld this was, but he knew that girl better than he knew his own name; usually, when he dreamed of her, she had a lot less clothes on. Colt would take what he could get.

She froze. “Who are you?”

“Ellie?” He raised his eyebrows in shock. She knew him. Hell, she knew him well, knew every inch of his body, just like he knew hers. He had spent hours mapping her, covering her skin, every curve and angle and bit of her under his hands and and lips and tongue. This is not how his Ellie dreams usually went.

“How’d you know my name?”

“What?!?” He leaned back, falling against his bike, trying to read her face, but she was genuinely confused, walking closer with her eyebrows drawn, as if they had never met. Urgh. While not as bad as the nightmares where he could feel the heat of fire burning his face, a dream where Ellie didn’t know who he was would definitely suck.

He rolled up his sleeve to pinch his forearm, wincing when it hurt. 

Wait. 

Wait a fucking minute.

He swallowed, shoving his hands in his jacket pocket to find his phone, fumbling through the lock screen. When he saw the date, he almost dropped it. March 22nd. But....but. It was August when he saw the psychic. This didn’t make sense.

“Excuse me? How’d you know my name?!?” Ellie stopped to glare, hands on her hips, familiar fire in her eyes.

“You have no idea who I am.” The words came slow as he tried to piece together what was happening.

He pinched his arm again, harder, feeling every bit of the dig of nails into his skin. 

Wait a minute. 

....What the fuck.

If that bullshit crank who made him drink the tea was real...

And if this was the night they met, then…

He looked around and, emerging from the shadows right on time, there he was. “Is this guy bothering you?”  Logan strode forward, standing protectively next to Ellie, shooting a glare his way.

“No?” She just looked befuddled. Colt was as well. “We were just…”

His mind raced. He really wanted to needle Logan, to put him in his place for thinking he had any right to police who Ellie was talking to, but he had bigger fish to fry. If this was reality and this really was the night of the sideshow, then… “I have to go.” He ignored them, ignored the confusion on their faces as he walked away, picking up speed until he was sprinting, racing through parked cars, frantically looking for a flash of green that he would recognize anywhere.

It took a lap around the lot, dodging idiots doing donuts and onlookers gawking at the races, until he saw it. The Aylesbury was parked to the side, near the food trucks, the glare of the dance floor strobe lights glinting off the pristine paint job. 

And leaning against the driver’s side door, smoking a cigar and watching the tail end of a race?

Colt’s heels skidded on the pavement as he stopped to stare. Holy shit. The psychotic psychic did it. Because, a mere five feet away from him, his dad stood, back tense and restless eyes scanning the crowd, always on guard. He gaped and watched as Pop turned his head, mouth falling open as he laid eyes on his prodigal son.

He was alive.

Colt moved before he could think, rushing over to wrap his arms around his father’s shoulders. They weren’t huggers, he could barely remember rare occasions where his dad would embrace him with anything approaching fondness, but the long-denied intimacy seemed appropriate as he clutched his dad’s shoulders.

“Colt?!? What are you doing in LA?”

He could only grin, staring into eyes he thought he would never see again.

He had his second chance.

Now, to make the most of it.

.

Tags:

Perma @desiree-0816 @leelee10898 @emichelle @client-327 @choicesgremlin @brightpinkpeppercorn @thequeenofcronuts @lilyofchoices

 ROD @omgjasminesimone @mskaneko

Colt

@deimosensblog @alegria1580  @choicesarehard @thefarrari @moonlit-girl-wonder @going-down-downtown@soniadotalves@jolietmaraud @flowerpowell@poeticscolt @zaira-oh-zaira @umiumichan @akrenich @sibella-plays-choices​  @maxwellsquidsuit  @liamzigmichael4ever​ @octobereighth @i-only-signed-up-for-fanfiction

[nelllraiser]

the art of needling your sisters | bea, luce, and nell

LOCATION: ink inc. PARTIES: @beatrice-blaze, @divineluce and @nelllraiser. SUMMARY: sister tattoos.  TATTOO PIC: here. (designed by finn, and a little nsfw so just be wary of some light boob action in the pic)

Driving into The Bend, Luce patted her hands against the steering wheel as she eased her way through one of the sharper turns towards the shop. It had been a long day of moving her things out of her beautiful, wonderful, fantastic cabin and in with Bea and Nell. And, honestly? She was over it. Super over it. She didn’t totally get why Mom had been so insistent on the three of them living together. Sure, there was a witch hunter around town, but Luce lived out in the woods. It was far enough away from others that she’d felt zero guilt about putting down wards so powerful they’d blow a zombie to smithereens. Anyone who decided to poke around her cabin when she didn’t want them would have had quite the time. But… here she was. And that’s why all three of them were here. Turning into the parking lot of Ink Inc., Luce turned to look at Nell and Bea. “Right. So. Mom said I have to live with you guys now because of… craziness. But, I had a couple conditions. Which includes,” She jerked a thumb over her shoulder to the illuminated storefront, “Bring your sisters to work day. Fun activities included.”

Nell didn’t know where Luce was taking them, but she hadn’t really questioned it when her and Bea had been herded into the car. It’d been...a while since all three of them had been in the same place at once, and she was excited to be in the same spot with both her sisters. It was just...better when they were together, even if her and Bea were on unstable ground at the moment, it felt right when it was the three of them. So she’d been thrilled when the news had come about Luce moving in, even if her sister hadn’t been all that happy to leave her cabin. A wide grin was quick to spread over her lips as she took in the sign Luce had indicated, and her seatbelt was already being undone in her readiness to get this show on the road. “Oh, hell yes. Fun activities?! As in….tattoos?”

As much as Bea didn’t blame their mom for making Luce move in with them, the eldest Vural was beginning to feel a bit cramped in her own home. Between the sisters and their pets the quiet escape that the house was meant to bring Bea was slowly disappearing. Still, she decided to grin and bear it, unwilling to disappoint their mother by asking if she could treat her adult daughters as actual adults. “I am not getting a tattoo. I don’t like needles, Luce. You know this.” She didn’t hate the way they looked, but she had gotten pierced multiple times already and she wasn’t look for any more reason to be stabbed by needles. “Tattoos are super pretty but they are not for me. I don’t want to have more pain than usual.”

Stepping out of her car, Luce rolled her eyes at Nell’s comment. “No, you’re here to sweep the floors. Yeah, we’re going to get tattoos.” She said as she headed towards the shop. Turning around to watch her sisters’ responses, she couldn’t help but laugh. Typical. This was exactly how it used to go when they were kids-- Nell would want to do one thing, Bea would want something else and she’d be stuck watching them butt heads. This time, though, it was her call. Which was honestly kinda nice. “You can get it small, don’t worry about it. I already drew up a design and I think you’ll like it. Besides, there are places where it wouldn’t hurt as much.” She explained. Walking up the sidewalk to the shop, she opened the door and waited for the other two to follow her inside.

Luce earned a quick eyeroll in return from Nell, but she was in much too high of spirits to say anything particularly snarky back at the moment, buzzing with excitement as she padded after her sister to the shop. But of course Bea was going to be a buzzkill about this, or at least try to be. “Okay I hate needles too-” Just the thought of them made a little shiver go down Nell’s spine. “But tattoos are different. You can’t see the little baby needles, so it’s like they’re not even really going in.” Nell was bouncing once again at the mention of a design, impatiently asking Luce, “What is it? I wanna see!” No doubt she was already getting on her sisters’ nerves, but she was simply too thrilled at the prospect of hanging out all together, and getting a tattoo. “So we’re all gonna match?”

It took Bea a moment to drag herself out of the car and after her sisters. She didn’t want to be the person who spoiled their fun and it had been a long time since they had actually bonded over something. Still, the idea of ink being injected into her skin made her feel slightly nauseous. She didn’t even want to think about how her body was going to react to the sudden inclusion of tattoo ink. Gathering up her courage, she joined her sisters, “Fine, but I’m going first.” She knew they probably thought she was going to give them crap about the whole thing, and she wanted to, but Bea was pretty tired of being everything her family expected and she had already disappointed Nell enough lately. “Is there any way to make it hurt less?”

As she listened to Nell and Bea gripe about the needles, Luce grinned wryly to herself. With sisters like these, it was honestly a wonder that she had any interest in tattoos at all. As they walked into the shop, the receptionist nodded to her as she walked in and headed towards her room. Rory’s door was shut, which meant he must be in with a client-- ah well. It worked out that Bea wanted to go first in that case. Hanging her coat up on the coat rack, she gestured tilted her head towards the chairs inside. “Okay, so. Here’s what I’m thinking. Obviously, get it wherever you want, but there are a couple spots that I think would look nice.” Opening up her laptop, Luce showed them the design she’d drawn up the other day. Based around the triple goddess symbol, it incorporated some witchy elements she enjoyed while also not being a dead give away about what they could do. And besides, triple goddess, three sisters? Why not kick this whole living situation off with a little family bonding? “I’m planning on getting it here. Again, your call on placement.” She said, gesturing to her upper abs. “Thoughts?”

Nell wasted no time in sitting in one of the chairs, propped on the edge of it as her knee bounced in anticipation. Then a moment later she was already standing again to try and get a better look at the design, and instantly cooing over it. “Ooohhhh, yes! I love that. Dibs on not being the Crone,” she teased a little, figuring each one of the moons were meant to represent each sister. She had to stop herself from piping up to say that she wanted to go first, knowing that it might be better for Bea to. Then there would be less chance she’d want to run...or be able to run. “I think that’s a perfect spot,” Nell said, smoothing her hands beneath her breast in the spot Luce had mentioned. It was most likely going to hurt in a place such as that, but she wasn’t about to say such a thing out loud when Bea was already on the edge about this whole thing. “Sure, Bea first. As for ways of making it hurt less…” Nell shot a look towards Luce, uncertain what reaction she might give to the word she was about to say. “....shots?”

Bea sighed as she sat on the chair, “Well, we all know I’m the Mother.” At this point, she wasn’t sure she would ever be able to get rid of the label “overbearing mother” even as a childless person. She knew people were usually just teasing her when they called her Mom, but it had begun to leave a bitter taste in her mouth. She hoped that taste was gone by the time she had her own children. “You’re the expert, Luce. Put it where you think is the best for me. I can match you two if you want.” She still wasn’t exactly fond of the idea, but if she complained anymore she was sure Nell would say something about it. She looked at the design and had to admit she was okay with that ending up on her. Luce was an amazing artist, Bea was sure that she was the best in this shop. She supposed the fact that her sister was this good was kind of a comfort. She looked over to Luce at Nell’s suggestion. She was pretty sure alcohol was against the rules. “Shots?” She asked Luce. 

Which left Luce with the Crone. Cool. Typical. But, at least they thought the design was worth getting done. Pulling her hair back in a ponytail, she reached into the inner pocket of her jacket and pulled out a flask. “I figured we might need a little liquid courage to get you in the chair, so I came prepared. One,” She held up a finger, “One shot. Nell, you don’t get any, I know you’ve had tattoos done before. This is going to be super quick, you can suck it up for a little bit.” She said as she printed out a couple stencils and got the ink, machine, and a bottle of saline prepped and ready to go. Her leather apron was hanging in the corner, but she wouldn’t need that just yet-- besides, it was kind of an intense look. It would probably freak Bea out more to see. “It’s whiskey, have fun.” She said, tossing the flask over to her sister as she looked at the stencils. They looked pretty good. “C’mon, take a shot and then take off your shirt, we’ll get this done nice and quick. Don’t you love all this fun family bonding?” Luce grinned.

“I wouldn’t say I’m innocent, but I’ll take the Maiden. Just a beautiful, youthful girl making her way in this world,” Nell finished with a smug smile, though it was all in good fun. “Hey! You’ve been holding out,” she exclaimed as Luce pulled the flask from nowhere. “One shot is boring.” The indignance was quick to enter her tone as she carried on. “Just because I’ve had tattoos doesn’t mean I don’t like a good shot! Pain or no pain.” A little snort fell from her as Luce told Bea to take her shirt off. “Wait- we need pasties. Luce, where do you keep the pasties? I wanna make ‘em special just for my beautiful big sister.” Then she was leaning towards Bea, a large grin on her lips. “Yeah Bea, don’t you love it?” She didn’t want to push it too far with her older sister, though. Not after what had happened on the beach.

Bea had to remind herself that she was a powerful, badass witch as she reached for the flask. She wasn’t going to back off of a tattoo when she had down harder things. She had brought something back from the dead and with minimal injury. Lots of people couldn’t do that and lots of people get tattoos. She could do this. She took a long sip with a grimace. Whiskey wsa not her first choice of liquor most of the time. “Yeah. Love family bonding,” She replied with a grimace as she put the flask down, out of reach of Nell. Pulling off her shirt, Bea folded her shirt nicely. She’d take off her bra when she got the pasties. “Don’t draw targets on my pasties.” She didn’t know why she thought her little sister would do that but she had to warn her anyway. “Am I going to be able to wear a bra after this?”

“In the third drawer of my toolkit.” Luce directed at Nell as she began to wipe down her chair and prep her workstation. Her little office was her home away from home and she made sure that it was kitted out appropriately. Her ink and other tattoo supplies were kept in a large rolling Craftsman toolkit, neatly organized and arranged just so. Floating shelves that had a couple candles, a polished citrine crystal, and some of her artwork hanging on the walls. A pinboard with a bunch of pre-made design stencils filled one wall, the prices written on the corner. And there was Nell… rummaging through her things. Grimacing as she cut out the stencils, Luce shrugged. “Technically, not for the rest of the day. I’d personally recommend not for the first week, but that’s a pain tolerance, rubbing call.” Pointing to her side, where the large peacock tattoo was obscured by her shirt, Luce added, “When I got my side tattoo, I didn’t wear a bra for the first week and a half. Your choice though.” Directing her attention to Nell, she scowled. “What are you doing to those pasties? I need to see where things fall so I can get the placement right and you’re holding this up.”

Nell followed Luce’s instructions, pulling out the pasties and proceeding to grab a sharpie that was within eyeline, uncapping the pen with her teeth before a pondering look came over her. The targets wouldn’t have been a terrible idea, and normally she would have done at least one to mess with Bea, even after her sister asked her not to, but...with how things had been going between them, she decided against it. “You’ll be fine with your boobies roaming free for a minute, Bea,” Nell said with a bit of a tease in her voice, knowing how much of a granny her sister could be. “Let them have some air, they’ll love it.” But now her art was finished, and she held up her finished product to Luce with a shit-eating grin on her face. “Done!” On the pasties were simple smiley faces, the dot in the center of them that served as their nose perhaps a touch on the large side. But they needed to be. After all- that’s where the nipple was. “Here you go, Doctor,” she said before handing them over to Luce.

Bea frowned at the idea of not being able to wear a bra for a week. She had shows to perform and she couldn’t exactly get on stage with her nipples poking out from under her shirt. Parents would absolutely complain about it. “I’ll try to keep it off for a week then.” She would at least try to keep it off when she wasn’t at her show. “Don’t call them boobies, it reminds me of middle school,” She cringed. She had no desire to be reminded of that cursed time of her life, she had not been very confident in middle school. High school had made her far more confident, but she supposed that had to do with puberty. She scowled at the pasties. “Did you really make those noses where my nipple is meant to be?” Turning to Luce, she motioned to her bra. “So do I take this off now and put those on?”

Grimacing at Nell’s words, Luce shot a pained look in her sister’s direction. “Never ever call them “boobies” ever again.” That was some cursed shit. Particularly when said… breasts belonged to her sister. Nope, nope, if anyone needed the alcohol, it was going to be her. Tossing the pasties over to Bea, she nodded. “No, I’m gonna tattoo through your bra. Of course you’re gonna fucking put them on. Hurry up, this should be a pretty quick one. The sooner you get in the chair, the sooner this will be over.” She said with a bored expression, waving the stencils impatiently. It was a simple design and, even though the sternum wasn’t a super comfortable place to get tattooed, it would be done before either one of them could put up a fuss.

“Well I didn’t wanna call them titties,” Nell grumbled, not particularly impressed with both of her sisters picking up on the work. “Is that what you wanted?” She decided to turn it into a bit of classic little sister revenge instead. “To say let your titties fly free?” And then her grin was back before she said, “Yep! Where else would I put the noses?” Another eyeroll later and she was talking to Luce once more. “She doesn’t know the process. Or who puts the smiley face pasties where. Is this how you treat all your clients? Consider your tip deducted,” she joked, squirming in her chair a little as she waited, impatient for her own turn. 

“I meant should I do it now, Luce, I didn’t know if you needed more time to set up and I didn’t want you both to have to sit with me shirtless for even longer than you have to,” Bea replied sourly at her sister, before turning her back on her sisters to pull off her bra and place the pasties. She didn’t know why Luce wanted to do this if she was going to treat the entire thing like it was a chore. It’s not like Bea had begged her for this. She barely even wanted the tattoo but she was doing this for her sisters. She sat back into the chair, resisting the urge to cross her arms over her chest. “I’m ready now,” She said, expression still sour, though she refused to meet either of her sisters’ eyes. 

“You can just call them breasts. Or better yet, not talk about them at all.” Luce said with a grimace. “Nope. You guys get the friends and family treatment. Which is double the cost.” She said dryly. Glancing at Bea, she shrugged. “It’ll be over before you know it. And once it is, you’re good to hit that flask.” Focusing on her work, Luce was able to get the thin lines, the small line of dots, the careful shading of the moons done in no time at all. In what seemed like no time at all, she’d finished up both of her sister’s tattoos and Rory was finishing up on her own. As soon as the tattoo was wrapped, she pulled her shirt back on and tossed him a couple twenties. “See, that wasn’t so bad.” She said with a bright grin, her blood pounding with the familiar rush of a new tattoo. “C’mon, what’d you think?”

Nell had hopped into the chair as soon as Bea was done, far too eager to have her turn. Then it was over almost as soon as it had started, and she was left to admire her sister’s work in the mirror. A grin was on her lips as the three of them had finished getting their tattoos, and she looked over to her sisters. “It’s perfect,” she said sincerely. “I love it.” With the ink fresh on her skin, she couldn’t help but enjoy the tattoo that they now shared. It linked them in a way that she could see, something more tangible beyond the unspoken bond of sisterhood. Three parts of a whole. For now, it served as a reminder that- even if they didn’t always like one another, even if they yelled and screamed, they were still sisters. 

The experience of getting a tattoo was not pleasant and Bea did not picture herself doing it again. Injecting her skin with ink was not on her list of fun things to do over a weekend. She had handled herself well, though she had spent a bit of time with her eyes watering from the jarring sensation of a tattoo gun near bones. After though, she took a long look at her tattoo (arm over her chest even though she still wore pasties). She supposed the only people she would ever want to get tattooed for would be her sisters. They had seen each other at their weakest points and had inspired each other. It would be a nice reminder to know that she always had them with her. She had pulled her shirt on again, though she found herself lifting up her shirt a bit to see the tattoo. Her finger slimmed underneath the ink. “Yeah, it’s perfect, Luce. Guess you can say both of you have permanently gotten under my skin.”