#also Nines do break every bone in his body

[adventuringblind]

Can I request Lando x Sainz! reader, Maybe she is younger than him and she was previously dating Charles but always being bff with Lando and how Carlos would react

I love you, please save me.

Lando Norris x Sainz!reader

Genre: angst and fluff

Summary: when readers relashonship with Charles leaves her broken, Lando and Carlos are there to help pick up the peices.

Warnings: talks of cheating and toxic behavior.

Request: Yes, and I hope you like it! My requests are open for Lando, Max, Oscar, Daniel, and Charles.

Notes: written in second person.

Masterlist // part two

Charles leclerc had been a dream on a boyfriend. He was everything you could have asked for. But Lando was there for you after the fall.

You spent lots of time around the paddock. Usually trailing after your older brother or attempting to find his girlfriend.

With all the time you spent there, it was only natural you got to know Lando. Your brother being a driver for McLaren meant getting to be a menace to your brother with Lando.

The two of you became fast friends. Oddly enough, because of the age gap between you and your brother, it meant that somehow he'd convinced Lando to also take on a more protective role.

You basically had personal body guards if you went anywhere.

When Carlos moved to Ferrari, you found yourself spending more time with a certain monegasque. Carlos and Lando both like Charles, so when he asked you out they were happy for you.

Carlos knew felt bad for the Brit as you had told them. The subtle hurt over not finding the courage to confess his feelings earlier, did not go unnoticed by the Spaniard.

You stayed good friends with Lando. Splitting your time evenly between the McLaren and Ferrari garages. Even staying with Lando on multiple occasions over breaks and spending time in his hotel room watching movies.

You’d started becoming distant as of late. Concerning both Carlos and Lando. The two determined to know the reason behind your eye bags and mildly defensive manner.

“Do you think it’s something with Charles?” Asked Lando to the Spaniard on day over lunch.

Carlos pauses for a minute to consider. “I don’t think so, Charles has seemed fine. I feel like we would know if something was going on with them.” He then tilts his head, pondering over every situation that could be happening. “Right?”

~

This, however, was the beginning of a downward spiral. The first nine months wth Charles was great. You two got along well and have a shared interest in music and art. There hadn't been a dull moment.

Now you felt stuck in an endless cycle. Charles had started being secretive. Going out late at night without you and not coming back until the morning.

He'd been blowing you off and avoiding your questions. Anger rising in his voice when you did so.

You blamed Ferraris back luck. He blamed the bad luck on you.

But then he'd come back to you. Tell you sweet words and make you feel loved.

You didn't know how to leave, and if you did, it might affect your brother. You didn't want to put that kind of strain on their relationship.

So you stayed. Even now. Almost two years into your relationship.

Everyone has sensed something wasn't right, but you could never find the words to make it known.

Your brother had become more gentle with his tone. Hoping you would let him in so he could help you.

Lando had become your rock. Taking advice from Carlos to be gentle with you. There might be more going on than what meets the eye.

And he'd confirmed it one day after a race.

Another bout of bad luck hit Ferrari, and the Monegasque driver was far from happy.

Carlos happened to be walking by Charles driver room when he heard the yelling. The male switching languages so fast it gave him whiplash.

Concerned, Carlos presses his ear to the door. Fire building in his bones when he hears your broken voice attempting to soothe him only to be berated back.

Carlos knew it wouldn't go well if he picked a fight. He needed to be smart about this.

If this was how charles had been treating you, no wonder you were so tired.

Last week, you'd fallen asleep at Lando's apartment. Lando had tried to get you to move away from him. Not wanting to push any boundaries.

Eventually, he'd just settled on giving you his bed and trying to get a hold of Charles to come get you.

When Charles picked up, he could hear the loud music in the background and Charles slurring his words.

He'd tried to explain the situation only to met with an angry grunt and the sound of the call ending.

Heaving in frustration, he'd settled on taking you home himself in the morning.

He woke up to your tears the next morning. Staring at your phone and begging him to help you.

You'd told him everything that morning. Going as far as to confess, you'd had feelings for the Brit. You just couldn't get away from Charles. Trying and failing multiple times.

Lando kissed you that morning and promised to help get you out.

Now Carlos was on the phone with him, but he couldn't hear anything past Charles had once again made you cry.

He was angry, to say the least. You were so kind and funny, and you were one of the best listeners he'd ever met. You didn't care that he's a picky eater and cheered him up after rough races.

Everyone knew to stay out of his way. He was a man on a mission. Determination fills his lungs with each breath.

He ignored the confused looks of the Ferrari staff. Pushing past as they tried to ask him questions.

After what felt like an eternity to him, he made it to Carlos. The two are now waiting for someone to open the door.

"Can't write just open it ourselves?" Lando questions. His foot tapping a hole through the ground out on anxiety and impatience.

Carlos shakes his head. "Already tried it."

They hear the lock click and watch the door swing open. Without hesitation, Carlos is on Charles trying to understand the yelling. Both boys are getting defensive.

Lando finds you balled in the corner. Your eyes are red and puffy. Hands over your ears to block out the noise. He's immediately down by your side. Cupping your cheeks in his hands.

You embraced him. Using his heartbeat to steady your own.

You two stayed like that. Lando as your shield.

"Stay away from my sister." Carlos seethed. Having pushed Charles so far back, he created an opening big enough for Lando to heave you up and guide you out of the room. Carlos marching close behind you two.

It felt like a breath air being out of the garage.

You immediately detach from Lando and hug your brother. Your thanks being muffled by his chest.

He stroked your hair. "I wish I could've helped earlier. Also, I think someone else is more deserving of your love."

He looks behind you at Lando, who is now awkwardly waving at you two.

You smile through the tears. "Thank you for saving me."

Lando throws his arms around you and gently places his lips on yours. "It's my honor. Even better is that I get you all to myself now."

[mxtx-ships]

MXTX fanfictions I recommend!

🐇WangXian🐇

Afternoon Delight by nuttinonice

It's hard for Wei Wuxian to catch his husband in a bad mood, but when he does, it's his mission to cheer him up again.

As Spring Will Surely Come by silver_sun

Now in their forth year of marriage Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian are settled into their life together in the Cloud Recesses, looking forward to a quiet, cozy winter together in the Jingshi. A night hunt at a haunted water mill, old injuries and family illness make it a very difficult winter instead.

This Night Will Pass by Taer01

A night terror that felt all too real, picking at the scab wounds of Lan Wangji's heart in a horrifying way.

Wei Wuxian reassures his husband he is still there.

Does anyone even read work titles? idk what to call this by Nighttdust

"Why did I marry you?" he asks and Wei Wuxian laughs awkwardly and touches his neck and his heart beats fast, fast, fast and his throat dries up and-

"Lan Zhan, what do you mean?"

"Why did I marry you?" Lan Zhan repeats and he sounds so honest, so confused and it breaks Wei Wuxians heart. Again and again and again. Breaks and shatters and comes together again and shatters and again, again, again.

or. After 6 years of marriage Lan Wangji falls out of love with Wei Wuxian

my bones into your bones by butterflylungs

He would pour every bit of his own energy into Lan Zhan’s body if it meant saving him, but that’s the thing: he doesn’t know if it will save him. Still, Wei Wuxian will drain himself dry for the chance, even if it would be very inconvenient if he died before making sure Lan Zhan will be okay.

What was supposed to be a regular night hunt leaves Lan Wangji mysteriously ill and Wei Wuxian scrambling to save his life.

💚BingQiu💚

Wife Plots: SQH Approved, SQQ Beloathed by airplanelanding (TheCourtSorcerer)

a sort of bonding experience by airplanelanding (TheCourtSorcerer)

“You’re wrong about many things, I need more than that,” he said flippantly.

Shang Qinghua took on a vaguely offended expression and his mouth opened, as if to retort, before he slowly shut it again after a moment of thought. Shen Qingqiu smirked behind his book.

"Ignoring that,” Shang Qinghua finally opted to say, clearing his throat.

Or

Luo Binghe gets himself and his husband in a bit of a predicament when Shen Qingqiu wakes to find him a cat one morning. Luckily, Shang Qinghua is always available for Shen Qingqiu to force help out of when something goes wrong.

(aka Shen Qingqiu and Shang Qinghua team up to make Luo Binghe not a cat again.)

sixty nine SEXY seductive ways to seduce your husband with your ankles (and more)!! by dearly_anonymous

Let Binghe go alone, defenseless, into the claws of the enemy? What if something happened and Luo Binghe fell into the demoness' ample cleavage? What if she, perish the thought, k-kissed Shen Qingqiu's husband?!!

Or, a diplomacy visit gone wrong. Also known as, Shizun Wears a Cheongsam for Airplane Bro Shitty Writing Reasons, the Fanfic.

eyes on me by orphan_account

Shen Qingqiu loves to travel with his sticky husband. The world of Proud Immortals Demon Way was full of wonders and monsters, and unfortunately, the rest of the Original Luo Binghe's many wives.

Luo Binghe pays these women no mind, especially with Shen Qingqiu by his side, but with one, his eyes begin to linger, and Shen Qingqiu takes matters into his own hands.

Shen Qingqiu will seduce his husband, and teach him a lesson.

Luo Binghe, eyes on me!!

5 Ways to make your Shizun pay attention to you! (Do not try at home, it doesn't work) by Shireyaki

Asking Shang Qinghua for dating advice was probably the worst thing Luo Binghe could have done.

Too bad he didn't know it yet.

.

...

.....or did it help after all?

(Shizun would say no.)

Hush darling, it's you that I love. by Ramune7655

SQQ's body gets de-aged on a monster hunt, to his distress. To save face, he leaves town with Binghe for a while, and of course, where there is not a sharp, elegant, and imposing adult SQQ beside Binghe, he will inevitably be swarmed with women.... Not a problem. Binghe is loyal, and he has no interest in others anyway. SQQ doesn't mind. That's right; he doesn't care at all....

(When Binghe's jealousy and insecurity accidentally caused SQQ's jealousy)

In Sickness and in Health by TheCaptinofSirius

In which Shen Yuan gets sick. He begins to worry that The System has somehow dragged his illness into this world. Binghe helps put his mind at ease.

End Racism in the OTW -- The Golden Furred Sword Trapper by pallas_rose

Post canon, Luo Binghe plans the perfect date: delicious food, beautiful scenery, and a rare Abyssal monster.

Little did he know that The System was also planning a celebration.

Can Shen Qingqiu avert disaster?

a separate homeward way by Miss_TeaDDK

"Luo Binghe has a dream that takes him to a black, shallow lake. Just as he starts to think he's alone, different versions of his husband start rising from the water and staring at him one by one, each body showing a different cause of death. As he hears these bodies calling for him, he starts having more and more trouble trying to return to the waking world."

When Shen Qingqiu is caught offhandedly expressing a longing for his unknown past, Luo Binghe fears that perhaps his Husband still does not consider him part of the home and future he himself has always dreamt of.

Husband to the Rescue by SheiraScar

Shen Qingqiu was assigned to an emergency mission to Haian city, a city with no cultivator and a huge trauma of demons. However, his-demon-lord-husband insisted on coming along. Ever so weak to his tears, Shen Qingqiu finally agreed. When things took unexpected turn and Luo Binghe was in danger, would Shen Qingqiu come to rescue him?

Lessons in possession by some_hag

But in the night time...

Oh, in the night time his face changes completely. His warmth turns into smoldering hot flames and sweet words are dripping with sin, he’s beautiful and blasphemous in a way that makes Shen Qingqiu’s face burn. (Shen Qingqiu tries not to think about it too often, but it’s just so much, too much, one does not simply push away vivid whole-body memories like that.)

A Vision Dressed In Red by straightforwardly

In which Luo Binghe is really, really hot for how Shen Qingqiu looks in red.

a silly question by azunshi

“Husband, do you love me?”

Sometimes, Luo Binghe needs a little reassurance that his husband loves him so.

Self-Care is Getting Bent over the Desk by your Demon Husband by TARDIStime

Being Qing Jing Peak Lord is a lot of work. However will Shen Qingqiu cope?

Binghe has an idea (or several).

Breaking The System by justkillthetitan

Shen Yuan is kicked back to his original world.

Luo Binghe wants to find his beloved Shizun.

lavender honey by forestsongs

"Binghe was so good to him, he thought. As caring and attentive as always, putting up with Shen Qingqiu’s fussy moods. Sometimes, Shen Qingqiu felt almost bad. Most of the time, it was Binghe touching him first, Binghe using his honeyed words to coax him into bed, Binghe taking place between his opened legs. What did he even get out of it?

It was unfair!"

or; Shen Qingqiu tries to be a good husband.

I can't say no when you look at me like this by Speechless_since_1998

“Shizun, no,” Binghe sighed wearily, while Shen Qingqiu held a demonic beast large enough to crush a child's head with its paw.

“But look at it, Binghe. It's a puppy!” he told him, showing him that horror in black fur and red eyes, which wagged its tail happily.

It must be said that, if he too were an animal, he would be more than happy to be in Shizun's arms. But that wasn't the point.

The demon said, “That is a hell tiger. It's not a puppy."

(In which Shen Qingqiu has a little too much fascination with monsters and the like and Luo Binghe can't resist her husband's puppy eyes.)

Can't Sleep Without Your Warmth Next To Me by HiyoriTomioka

For a while now, Shen Qingqiu had been wondering whether Luo Binghe would have fallen in love with him if he still looked like Shen Yuan, like his original body.

Familiar Stranger by GooseRot

After accidentally killing one of the most powerful criminals in the country in a tragic, ice cream related mishap, Shen Yuan is spirited away by witness protection to a foreign country.

There he meets a sweet stranger who, as the years pass, grows more and more familiar.

-

Or: Shen Yuan’s would-be assassin becomes his (extremely) overprotective boyfriend.

A Strong Need by TheCaptinofSirius

Shen Yuan wakes up horny, and Binghe is aroused and confused. So are all of the other people in the throne room.

Red Robes by TheCaptinofSirius

Shen Qingqiu braces himself for his wedding night. The next morning he is treated to warm cuddles with his new husband.

The Termination of Bliss by TheCaptinofSirius

"One word could bring disgrace and the termination of a bliss.”

― Ali Ibn Abi Talib A.S

Shen Yuan snaps at Luo Binghe, and finds himself doing the chasing for once.

Still Beautiful to Me by TheCaptinofSirius

Shen Yuan was no stranger to body issues. After having his son, they return with a vengeance. Luckily Luo Binghe is there to help put his mind at ease.

Time Well Spent by TheCaptinofSirius (Added In Later)

Shen Yuan is the one hit by a fuck or die plot. He might as well get it over with.

what's your love language? by the_nerd_youre_looking_for (Added In Later)

5 times Shen Qingqiu shows his affection and 1 time he actually uses his damn words

🦋HuaLian🦋

i will wait for you by toaster_mommy

It was just a normal morning.

The night before went the same as usual, Hua Cheng and Xie Lian holding each other as they drifted to sleep. Nothing out of the ordinary.

They braided each other's hair before going to sleep, hopefully to eliminate wasted time in the morning spent brushing each other's hair.

Nothing new, nothing different. Just a normal day. That’s why Hua Cheng spent the majority of his morning watching his husband sleep.

He watched his beloved’s chest rise and fall. He caressed Xie Lian’s pretty face as he slept, thankful his husband was a heavy sleeper when they laid next to one another.

He was so entranced by his husband's beauty he didn’t even notice the absence of a certain piece of cloth over his non-existent eye.

Or

Hua Cheng isn’t as sure of himself as he looks, and truly is just a coward that hides behind an eyepatch.

But his Gege is there to prove him wrong.

Why Worry When You Love Me? by Edward_The_Vampire

Xie Lian thinks about how lang waited so long for him and his devotion starts to feel unworthy. A new god ascends and is upset he is no longer pure and “princely” which makes him feel useless and unworthy of ruling the heavens as well. He forgets the day and ends up having a mental breakdown where Hua Cheng comforts him.

safe by iJoke

xie lian has a nightmare about his first banishment and hua cheng is there to help him through it

Next time, bring a napkin by beesonvenus

Pei Ming has a sudden urge to drink, and he goes to Ghost City to sate it. Something he will regret later on.

The Sun Behind My Eyes (And The Mouth On Mine) by starry_stan

Xie Lian gets kidnapped. When he thinks it can't get any worse, he's put in a situation that sends his mind straight back to being buried alive for 100 years. Luckily, he has a husband that would burn the world to save him, and save him he does.

The Exploits of a Prince, and His Forbidden Love Affair by debwriting

Prince Xie Lian and Royal Guard Hua Cheng have known each other since they were young. Though the two were raised in entirely different worlds, their connection deepens as they grow older. Until eventually, a simple crush transforms into an all-consuming love affair.

Watch the two lovers as they navigate their forbidden romance, and a war that threatens to sever them apart.

Unfold My Desire by nuttinonice

When a new god ascends, he's shocked to find that the pure and virginal Dianxia he once worshipped is now the very much sexually active husband of a demonic ghost king. Xie Lian deals with the fall out of being shamed for the sexual confidence he's worked so hard to build.

Alternatively, Xie Lian struggles to kickstart his slut era.

transfer my tragedy by nobirdstofly

Hua Cheng has had centuries to worship him, to show his devotion, but to see it reflected in Xie Lian’s eyes is staggering. Like this, Xie Lian is a barely leashed guard dog. A beast that smiles up at Hua Cheng with all the love in the three realms and blood in his teeth.

Xie Lian will do anything to protect Hua Cheng, and Hua Cheng can't help but be into that.

like sailors swimming in the sound of it, dashed to pieces by namelessflower

"Don't ever leave me again," Xie Lian whispers against Hua Cheng's lips, fists clenched in Hua Cheng's robe, voice quivering.

“I will never leave you,” Hua Cheng answers fiercely, with the ardent devotion of a lover, the unyielding conviction of a believer. “I will never, ever leave your side again, Dianxia, I swear it. Believe me.”

After Xie Lian has a nightmare about losing Hua Cheng for good, Hua Cheng holds him until he is able to fall asleep again.

Can’t Be Alone by Gigglemite

Hua Cheng has a bad morning. Xie Lian is more than willing to spend all day in bed cuddling his husband until he feels like he can get up.

nobody else but me by nikkiRA (Added in Later)

Often, if people were to stare, it would be at Hua Cheng (Xie Lian couldn't blame anyone for it—he understood). But today, perhaps amplified by the high quality clothes he was wearing, Xie Lian's beauty was shining through for everyone to see. And everyone did see; whether Xie Lian had noticed or not, people were staring.

Hua Cheng had certainly noticed.

come back to me by miska_kuura. (Added in Later)

When Hua Cheng catches a cold, Xie Lian is naturally worried and determined to take care of his husband. This time, however, it turns out some fever dreams can end up being a nightmare for both of them.

i feel you reflecting me by tiredjunkbag (Added In Later)

A hand slips up his neck to grasp roughly at his chin, tilting his head. “Look at yourself” Hua Cheng mouths into his shoulder. Xie Lian squirms, freezing in place. He can’t. It’s embarrassing, he won’t look, he-

he really wants to see.

**

Or: hualian try out a new bed.

There are mirrors.

🤜FengQing🤛

Poison and Flame by DAY_DREAM

Buried feelings are brought to light when Mu Qing gets injured by a mysterious creature. Can love find its way through a vicious curse? Will it get burned by a flame of awakening desire?

Make Me Forget Myself by Gigglemite

“Tell me,” Feng Xin urged, the worry in his gut only building in intensity the longer he stares at such an emotionally raw Mu Qing. “Tell me what you need.”

Mu Qing’s eyes only opened wider at those words, more tears welling up. He couldn’t speak, he could barely even move from the position he had lodged himself into before going stock still.

“Mu Qing,” Feng Xin had to forcefully swallow down the words that almost spilled off the tip of his tongue. Saying, ‘I would give you anything you ask for’, probably would not go over too well in this situation. “What happened?”

“Am I unloveable?”

I've Got You by xiaaa101 (Added in Later)

Feng Xin was shaking. Violently shaking as he stood there, in Mt Tonglu watching the scene unfold. Xie Lian was to his right, being held back by Hua Cheng, his mouth open, screaming and screaming. But Feng Xin couldn't hear. His sound had become muffled, his eyes glued on what he saw before him. Mu Qing.

What did Mu Qing go through during the Xianle Trio separation?... What if White No-Face had come after Mu Qing?...

I Think I'd Die For You by dianxiasbussy (Added in Later)

Feng Xin and Mu Qing live in hiding and live like every moment might be their last. They kiss in the rain because it’s cliche. They fuck in the back of their car because it’s convenient, and most importantly they tell each other “I love you” every day in case they might not get to say it ever again.

bigger than the whole sky by sequinhaze (Added In Later)

“This is where I buried our daughter,” Mu Qing whispers.

Feng Xin’s entire world comes to a halt right then and there.

The Labor of Love Produces the Sweetest Fruits by foxfeast (Added In Later)

In the decades that had passed since the fall of White No-Face, Mu Qing had learned three things about Feng Xin:

One: Feng Xin was, apparently, in love with Mu Qing.

Two: Feng Xin was, apparently, very sexually frustrated.

Three: Feng Xin was, apparently, not interested in having sex with Mu Qing.

———

Thirteen years ago, Feng Xin confessed his love to Mu Qing. Thirteen years later, and they still hadn’t had sex. Mu Qing can only come to one conclusion:

Feng Xin is not sexually attracted to him.

Mu Qing’s solution? Seduce his partner.

love me even when it's terrible by luminvies (Added In Later)

“I’ve had a whole lot of experience of you being a fucking annoyance. If I didn't love you, I wouldn't have stuck around for this long. Lucky for you," he leans back, bops Mu Qing's nose, and revels in the way his eyes go cross-eyed, "I've loved you for so long I don't know how else to feel."

In which Mu Qing is Feng Xin's favorite.

Can you tell who my favorite is??? I'm new to reading fanfiction of these characters so please give me recommendations as well!!

[mint-yooxgi]

{12} - Morning Mist - Yandere!Dragon!Ateex X Chubby!Reader

Yandere AU & Dragon AU

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst

Pairing: Ateez X Reader (Focus on Seonghwa)

Words: 10,355

Warnings: Threats, mentions of bones being reset, some blood and injuries. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: Finally, a chapter I have been waiting for to write!! lmaoo my apologies if the beginning is a little slow, but there’s some big reveals in this chapter that I really hope you’ll all enjoy. The next few chapters might have some more important truths in relevance to the plot, so I hope you all look forward to that! As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy~

Also, gentle reminder that I do not do tag lists.

Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three - Chapter Four - Chapter Five - Chapter Six - Chapter Seven - Chapter Eight - Chapter Nine - Chapter Ten - Chapter Eleven - Mini Masterlist

“You made her a Drygg Promise?” Seonghwa’s voice is full of disbelief as he stares at the younger dragon across from him.

“What Jongho chooses to do with her is completely up to him.” Hongjoong casually adds, turning the page of the book he’s currently reading. Though, none of them fail to miss how tense their leader seems, the sound of paper being harshly flipped through reaching their ears each time he so much as fingers the next page.

“You understand that if you ever go back on your word, a tattoo like mark will appear on your body branding you for all to see?” Yeosang meets the youngest’s gaze, arms crossed over his chest as a hint of worry bleeds into his tone.

Those that break a Drygg Promise are branded in dishonour, marking them as someone unfaithful and untrustworthy to others. It is one of the greatest shames that can befall a dragon, for the mark can never be removed, nor the magic ever be undone. Once a Drygg Promise is broken, it can never be made again.

“I know.” Jongho hums. “Which is why I never intend to break it.”

“Keeping a Drygg Promise is easier said than done.” Yunho states, sharing a brief look with the younger male across the room.

“Did she make one back?” There’s a hint of irritation to Wooyoung’s tone, his entire body stiff as he leans against the wall.

“No,” as soon as the word leaves Jongho’s lip, the male seemingly relaxes. “This one was purely just intended for me.”

“But she agreed to it?” Hongjoong glances at the youngest out of the corner of his eyes, watching the male carefully.

“She didn’t push me away.” Comes the younger’s response.

San pouts, shoulders slumping as he sits in his seat. He wanted to be the first one to make a Drygg Promise with you. It didn’t matter what it was, he just wanted to prove to you how loyal he could be. How faithful. Especially to you.

“You know as well as I do that once the connection is made, there’s no preventing that magic from taking hold.” Yunho sighs, meeting gazes with Hongjoong. “Whether she wanted him to be or not, he’s bound to it. At least from what he’s told us, it’s just him.”

“Why would you do something so stupid?” Mingi shakes his head in disproval, turning to look at Jongho in the next second. “Least of all for her?”

“If I recall correctly, you did some pretty stupid things when you were trying to impress that one she-wolf quite a few years back,” Yeosang hums, flicking his bangs out of his eyes.

Red begins to creep up Mingi’s neck, the male sputtering briefly. “Well, at least I didn’t imprint, or do something as stupid as make her a Drygg Promise!”

“You act like it’s the end of the world.” San grumbles, visibly becoming more upset the longer that this conversation drags on.

“I did what I felt was best at the time,” Jongho shrugs. “My love for her is none of your concern.”

“It is when you threaten our clan’s quest for the crown!” Seonghwa snaps, chest heaving with every breath he takes.

“Well, maybe I don’t want to find this stupid crown!” Jongho retorts, brow tugging downwards in a frown. “It’s made you completely power hungry and desperate to rule! Do you really think that you’d make a good leader when you can’t even swallow your pride for ten fucking seconds and admit your own faults?”

“Watch it, Jongho-“

It’s Mingi that gets cut off by the youngest next.

“And you!” He seethes, rounding on the flaming headed male. “Burning every fucking thing to the ground any chance you get? Tell me, again, how your anger isn’t controlling you.”

“Jongho.” Yunho stands, moving towards the younger dragon in attempts to deescalate the situation before it goes any further.

“None of us are fit to be rulers,” he continues. “Not when half of us can hardly make decisions on how we handle things or how we feel about them.”

Yeosang’s eyes narrow pointedly.

“Not when half of us can barely control our emotions.” Jongho’s eye flash at both Seonghwa and Mingi. “We don’t deserve it.”

“Jongho.” Hongjoong’s eyes flash, his book slamming closed. “That’s enough.”

“Don’t act like you haven’t been thinking about it, too.” The youngest huffs, a puff of smoke escaping his nostrils at how heated he’s become.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” Hongjoong’s voice is low, ominous as he slowly stands to his feet. 

The scraping of the chair against the wooden floor fills the silence in the room, each male now much more tense than before. A weight has settled over all of them, looming over their heads like a thundercloud.

“I am tired of these fucking raids,” Jongho’s entire expression drops, shoulders slouching as he curls in on himself. “I am tried of having everyone fear us everywhere we go. Our clan name shouldn’t be a cause for terror, or despair. It should be one to be celebrated and supported. There is no honour in senseless violence or killing. I am tired of all this bloodshed. Aren’t you?”

A heavy silence fills the air, drowning them in the harshness of Jongho’s confession.

Seonghwa sees red.

“You’re starting to sound like that fucking huntress-“

Snarls echo around the room, yet none are as loud, or as surprising as Yeosang’s.

“Don’t call her that.” The male’s lips are pulled back over his teeth, fangs on full display.

“What’s the matter with you?” Seonghwa voices, incredulously. “Has she bewitched you, too?”

“Don’t you dare go there, Hwa.” Wooyoung takes a menacing step forward.

“Yeosang couldn’t trust her, and then he spends one fucking day with her and suddenly he’s smitten!” Seonghwa counters. “You can’t blame me for knowing that she’s put a spell on all of you at this point. The fact that she made you make her a Drygg Promise just confirms it. She’s obviously toying with your-“

“I made her that fucking Drygg Promise of my own free will, Seonghwa,” Jongho’s tone is but a growl on his lips as he cuts the elder off. “Perhaps it’s you who needs to reevaluate how you see her.”

“It’s not like we’re going to be able to change it now,” Mingi sighs, shaking his head lightly.

“Even you are acting fucking different towards her since the other day.” Seonghwa’s eyes narrow at the younger male with the flaming hair. “What’s gotten into you?”

“We aren’t as stubborn as you are, Hwa.” Yunho says, eyes flashing at the eldest. “We’ve actually taken the time to get to know her, and realize that she’s not a bad person. We can learn a lot from her. Just look at how far San and Wooyoung have come with their medicinal training in a month!”

“I’m surprised she hasn’t poisoned you, yet.” Seonghwa grumbles, diverting his gaze to the floor for a brief moment.

San, Jongho, and Wooyoung all go to lunge at the eldest. Even Yeosang and Yunho twitch slightly in their spots, but again, it’s Hongjoong that acts first.

Slamming the eldest against the wall, Hongjoong pins him with an arm across the  elder male’s chest. The younger’s eyes are a deep gold, flashing dangerously beneath the moonlight as Seonghwa’s own widen in response.

“I will not have you speaking ill of the woman that has not only saved your life, but the lives of your brothers more times than I can count. She has been kind enough to extend her knowledge to us after the multiple stunts you’ve pulled against her and her clan.” Hongjoong seethes, lips pulled back in a snarl as his fangs begin to elongate. “You bring more shame to yourself every fucking day, Seonghwa, that you do not admit your own shortcomings, and apologize for your mistakes. Jongho’s right, you would make a terrible ruler. We all would.”

Seonghwa can feel his heart pounding inside his chest, the familiar bitter taste of tears beginning to form behind his eyes. He blinks them back, but from the way Hongjoong presses him harder into the wall, the elder can tell that the younger is nowhere near finished with him yet.

“Until you can fucking get your head out of your ass, you are banished from this household until further notice.” Hongjoong commands, and he can feel the way Seonghwa’s breath hitches in his throat based on the way his chest freezes beneath his arm. “Do not come back until you have both learned the error of your ways, and have apologized to the woman we owe our lives to.”

In the next moment, Hongjoong shoves himself off of the elder male, backing away from him slowly. None of the others dare to say anything as Seonghwa spares one final glance around at all of them, worried about incurring the wrath of their leader after such a tense exchange.

“Fine,” Seonghwa huffs, straightening out his shirt. “If this is how all of you are going to act, I don’t want to be here, anyways.”

Without another word, or waiting for an answer, Seonghwa storms out of the house. The crisp night air greets him, and he’s immediately shifting, taking off into the night sky without a single glance back.

The six remaining males turn to look at a heaving Hongjoong. 

Yunho, San, and Jongho all blink in shock.

“You really chose that witch over your own brother?” Mingi looks appalled, lips parted in disbelief at his leader.

“Watch it, Min.” Hongjoong’s eyes flash as he turns towards the taller male. “Do you want to get banned, too?”

“Not particularly,” he shakes his head sightly, hands raised in his own defence.

“Good.” Hongjoong nods once. “Because despite what it looks like, I’d really rather not have this clan fall apart.”

“We have noticed a slight change in you, Min.” Yunho observes. “Ever since you talked with her that one day.”

“You’re less…” San searches for the proper word, “hotheaded at times.”

Yeosang says nothing, observing the scene before him with his arms crossed over his chest. Casually, he leans back against the wall, making brief eye contact with the taller male. He quirks a brow.

“She just gave me something to think about, is all.” Mingi clears his throat, a faint blush beginning to creep up his neck.

“You? Thinking?” Wooyoung voices, eyes wide in amazement. “I never thought I’d see the day.”

Threateningly, Mingi takes a small step in the shorter male’s direction.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry!” Wooyoung laughs, putting his hands in front of himself for protection. “It’s just nice to have a conversation without it all bursting into flames.”

This time, Mingi doesn’t stop himself from lunging at the younger male. In a flash, he has Wooyoung in a headlock, the younger thrashing in his arms in attempts to escape.

A long sigh is escaping Hongjoong’s lips in the next second, noticing how Jongho has seemingly slipped out of the front door in all of the commotion.

“Where’d our youngest go?” San frowns, looking around the room.

“Probably to clear his head,” Yunho responds, pulling Wooyoung out of Mingi’s grasp.

The younger male immediately starts praising Yunho, all the while sticking his tongue out at Mingi who is being held back by the taller male.

“I’ve never seen Jongho act like this,” Yeosang’s gaze is locked on the wooden floor, a frown tugging at his features.

“He’s never really been huge on the whole quest for the crown.” Hongjoong shrugs, leaning back against the side of the table. “You all know this.”

“He’s always been silent about this kind of stuff, though.” San’s brow furrows, arms crossing over his chest.

“You know as well as I do that he can get very impatient at times.” Hongjoong replies, staring out of the window as if he can see that familiar golden dragon flying in the distance. “This whole imprinting thing is probably weighing on him in its own ways. He did think she was human.”

“We all did.” Yunho hums knowingly.

“I don’t think he cares about waiting for her in terms of the imprint,” Yeosang adds. “I just think he’s feeling inadequate for her in general.”

“I think you’re right,” Hongjoong sighs once more, turning his attention back to the males standing around the room before him. “It’s frustrating when you want to learn all there is about a person, but they keep you at arms length.”

“Speaking from experience, Leader?” Mingi quirks a brow.

“I’m just saying I can understand how Jongho feels.” Hongjoong responds, tilting his head in Mingi’s direction.

“I think we all can.” San mumbles, rubbing a hand over the side of his face.

A look is shared between Yunho, Hongjoong, San, and Wooyoung. Even Yeosang spares a quick glance upwards in response.

“Trust isn’t something that’s given,” Mingi comments, already heading down the hallway and to his room for the evening. “It’s earned.”

The sound of his door swinging shut echoes through the silence that has befallen the room. Five males can only stand there in shock, sparing glances at one another at the words that have just been uttered by their hotheaded brother.

Did he just agree with something you have always believed?

Blinking, Hongjoong clears his thoughts enough to face the remaining four males before him. “Remember, don’t let Seonghwa back in unless he has fulfilled his requirements. No matter what.”

Firm nods of agreement greet Hongjoong in response, the other males dispersing to their rooms for the evening shortly after that. Hongjoong, on the other hand, steps outside, the fresh air helping to cool his heated skin and clear his head even further.

Wordlessly, he shifts into his true form, stretching his wings out before leaping into the night sky. It wouldn’t hurt to take a quick flight around the area, and maybe even check in on you this evening.

After all, he’s just doing what he should be as his clan’s leader, and making sure Seonghwa hasn’t done anything to harm you in retaliation to his decision. No other reason…

You, on the other hand, had finally been able to finish that book you had been meaning to all those long weeks ago. Your eyes are strained, and exhaustion seeps into every pore of your body as you blow out the oil lamp resting beside you.

Just as you begin to crawl into bed, you sense a familiar presence flying closer and closer to your cabin. You’ve long since sensed the other circling over the area for at least ten minutes or so, so when you feel the other, you believed it’s simply Hongjoong coming to collect their youngest for the evening.

Unbeknownst to you, as you succumb to the darkness of your own consciousness, both dragons opt to steer clear of one another. Not once do they cross paths, purposely avoiding the other as they pass protectively over your territory.

Little do any of you realize that they stay for the entire night.

The very next day, Yunho visits you with Yeosang by his side. 

To say that you’re surprised would be an understatement, considering you would have expected either Jongho or Hongjoong to have brought you the news of Seonghwa’s temporary banishment. Either way, you’re grateful for the information, inviting them in for lunch all the same. A fact of which they both gladly accept, Yeosang attempting to not look too eager as this will be the first time he’ll get to properly eat your cooking firsthand.

They stay for a few hours, offering you help around your house to do some small chores in thanks for the meal. You accept, and in no time at all, have completed your small list of things to do for the day.

Some time in the afternoon, you hear both Chenle and Renjun enter your house. You could sense their presences getting closer, and you noticed that Yunho’s head lifts ever so slightly when they get about thirty feet from your door.

A subtle smile had pulled at your features at that, happy to know that your training with San and Wooyoung has been beneficial not just for them, but their brothers, too. You may not have agreed to train any of the other Halas, yet, but that doesn’t mean they cannot train each other.

Needless to say, once both Renjun and Chenle entered your house to see those two specific Hala dragons sitting in your living room with you, all sharing glasses of iced mint tea, they were shocked. Chenle immediately ran over and jumped into your lap, smothering you in his affection and noticing how the smaller Hala of the two attempted to hide his irritation. At least he did better at hiding his annoyance than Yunho.

Some time later, all four of them opted to leave you for the evening. The Halas told you that they didn’t want to overstay their welcome, to which you replied that they were welcome anytime.

Both Yunho and Yeosang had blushed at that, small smiles tugging at their features as they bid you a final farewell and took off into the sky. Of course, Renjun and Chenle shared a look between one another as this occurred, a knowing gleam shining within the elder’s eyes.

The two Neos left shortly after that, Chenle reluctant to head home as always. He promised to come see you again soon, to which you simply chuckled at, and sent them both on their merry way.

Days pass, and both San and Wooyoung happily continue their training with you. More often that not, they are accompanied by one or more of their brothers, if they don’t come to visit you themselves on their own time. It’s nice having the company, and they get along great with your Neos, so you’re no longer worried about any conflicts arising. Hell, even Mingi has been starting to join his brothers at times, a fact which surprises both you, and them, more often than not.

For over a week, none of them have seen sight, nor heard any sound of Seonghwa. You track him the odd time, just to ease the worry in Hongjoong’s mind, apparent in the way the male’s hands twitch in his own hold, and his brow creases occasionally. 

How you manage to be able to find the eldest so quickly, over such a vast territory still amazes him. Hongjoong has half the mind to ask you to teach him how you do it, but he doesn���t want to overstep. Though, you seem to catch on pretty quickly.

“I’ll send a message when I’m ready to teach you,” you smile, and it’s as if that single expression lights up the entire room. Then, you’re turning towards Yeosang and Yunho. “Do you two still wish to accompany me to Rose Village soon?”

Out of the corner of your eyes, you notice Jongho stiffen.

“If you’ll have us,” Yeosang replies, a slight nod to his head.

“Again, I’ll send word when I’m ready.” You meet his gaze, shifting to look at Yunho in the next second. “I don’t know how you convinced Taeyong, but if he’s okay with skipping his favourite supply run of the month, then I have no issues with you two joining me.”

“If it’s his supply run, why do you have to go?” Jongho grumbles, arms crossed over his chest.

“I usually only join him on this run twice a year.” You say, turning to face the pouting male leaning against the side wall. “There’s a specific harvest festival that happens during both the spring and autumn seasons. I usually just gather the rarer herbs that the merchants bring in. Taeyong enjoys going for the flowers.”

“Don’t tell him you said that,” Renjun pops his head out your backdoor, wiping his hands on a cloth. “It’ll ruin his reputation.”

“Oh, my bad,” you playfully roll your eyes. “Big scary Neo leader likes flowers, big shocker there.”

“Wait, so it’s not Jungwoo that made the giant garden in their front yard?” San’s brows furrow, head tilting curiously in your direction.

“Oh, Jungwoo makes sure to maintain it,” you grin. “Along with dear Junnie here.”

At the way you move over to affectionately wrap your arm around the male’s shoulders, shaking him slightly, Renjun sends you a glare.

“My Neos are softer than you think,” you chuckle.

“We could still level a mountain if we wanted to,” Renjun grumbles.

“I know,” you hum, smiling fondly. “I would be upset if you couldn’t. Considering I taught you how to.”

“You can level a mountain?” Nothing but awe paints San’s features, the other Halas looking no different despite those that attempt to hide it.

“I can do many things, Sannie Boy,” you smile, though it becomes a little more unnerving the longer they all stare at you. “You just haven’t asked.”

The Halas all share a brief look between one another. None can deny the way hope begins to flood their veins, hearts beating erratically within their chests. Are you implying what they think you are? Are you, perhaps, beginning to trust them?

“Taeyong knows how to balance himself well,” you comment, shooting a brief glance at Mingi out of the corner of your eyes before turning to stare directly at Yeosang. “Wind can be harsh, and destructive, but it can also be calm, and refreshing. To every disaster, there is always hope.”

Yeosang nods, an understanding crossing his features as the others turn to look his way.

“Every power is like that,” you add, dropping your arm from around Renjun’s shoulder, much to the male’s content. “There’s good and bad in everything. What matters is how you wield it.”

“Oh, don’t start that lecture again,” Renjun rolls his eyes playfully at you, poking your arm lightly. “You have things to do.”

You shoot him a look before huffing out a laugh, “I suppose you’re right.”

“We better get going, anyways,” Hongjoong says, motioning for the rest of his clan to move with a jerk of his chin.

“We can stay and help,” Wooyoung offers, an eager gleam shining within his eyes.

You smile, “not this time.”

The way both he, San, and Jongho all visibly deflate at your response has you shaking your head, almost affectionately, at them.

“I’ll see you all again, soon enough,” you promise, waving them off. “Be safe. All of you.”

This is the first time Mingi has heard you wish them well while leaving, and he cannot deny the way his heart falters for the briefest of moments. A warmth unlike anything he’s ever felt before floods his veins, beginning from within his chest and spreading outwards. A feeling which he wants to feel more of, and soon.

Taking off into the sky, each Hala can still feel your gaze locked on them, tails flicking happily in the breeze. For the first time in a long time, they circle around one another, teasingly brushing each other with their wings, or rolling over their backs mid-flight. It makes them feel like their old selves again, a joy washing over them that they haven’t felt in a long time.

Finally, they can relax a little. Be more carefree. The weight of searching for the crown is no longer pressing against each of their shoulders, and it’s all thanks to you.

***

The tenth night after Seonghwa’s banishment from their nest, you hear a knock at your door. It’s faint enough that you almost miss it, as if whoever it is simply brushed their knuckles against the wood. However, from the presence you sense just on the other side, you know it simply isn’t just the wind.

With your guard high, and lights illuminating the kitchen, you open the backdoor.

The sight that greets you is one you honestly never would have expected, blinking mildly in shock.

There, looking even worse than the night you caught him with your dagger, stands the eldest Hala dragon. Scars litter what little exposed skin you can see of him, dirt and blood smeared against every free inch of his clothes. He holds his wrist in his one hand - the same one you broke all those weeks ago - rubbing it tenderly with his fingers. A gentle click can be heard each time he does so, the bones shifting uncomfortably beneath his skin.

His eyes are bloodshot as he meets your own, tears lining the corners and threatening to fall at any second. He keeps his lower lip caught between his teeth, grimacing as he meets your gaze.

Your nose crinkles from the stench radiating off of him, and you hear him sniffle.

You quirk a brow.

“I didn’t know where else to go,” his voice comes out small, strained from what little use he’s made of it over the past ten days.

The eldest avoids your gaze, suddenly finding the wooden flooring beneath your feet the most interesting thing he’s ever seen in his life.

“So, you decided to show up on your enemy’s back porch?” You hum, leaning against the frame of your open door.

“You are not my enemy.”

To say his words shock you would be an understatement, unable to hide the surprise from pulling at your features.

“Why did you simply not just go home?” Your tone is softer than a moment ago, and he finally lifts his gaze to meet your own.

The first of his tears begin to slip down his face. “I can’t go home.”

“Oh?” You tilt your head slightly in inquiry. “And why is that?”

He purses his lips as best he can, but he cannot prevent the way that his chin trembles.

The next moment, he straightens himself, as if in attempts to control his emotions. “Forget it.”

The way you can just tell that he’s attempting to hold on to the last shreds of his pride as he goes to turn away from you has a low sigh escaping your lips.

“Asking for help does not make you weak, Hala.” You state, noticing how he freezes in his spot at your words.

“Seonghwa.” His voice is gruff as he spares a glance at you from over his shoulder. “My name is Seonghwa.”

“And I shall refer to you as Hala until I deem it time for you to hear your name being graced by my lips.” You reply, arms crossed over your chest. “Do not forget you went after my back not once, but twice after I spared your life both times. Not only that, but you continue to insult me, and threaten me after everything I have done for both you and your clan. I have every right to watch you die right here on my back porch this very second, and revel in every moment of it.”

You do not fail to miss the way he flinches at your words, guard raising as his lips pull back in a snarl.

“This was a waste of time,” he manages to get out through gritted teeth, turning away from you once more.

“You need to work on your perception, Boy,” you state. “I never said I wouldn’t help you.”

Yet again, your words have him freezing in his tracks.

“I owe that much to those brothers of yours.” You hum. “Perhaps one more so than the others.”

“Jongho,” he whispers, turning back around to face you, approaching you cautiously all the while.

“Yes, you have your youngest to thank for this,” you nod softly, relaxing your tense shoulders the slightest bit. “He continues to surprise me every day.”

“Then you’ve-“

“No.” Your reply is somewhat firm, a gentle shake to your head. “I have not. But, like I said, he continues to surprise me.”

Seonghwa says nothing as he steps right up before the threshold of your door, that invisible barrier still keeping him out for now.

“Do you have any life threatening injuries that I cannot immediately see.” You ask him, eyes quickly trailing over the front of his torso.

You do not fail to miss the way that he seemingly shivers beneath your gaze.

“I don’t think so.” He mumbles, shifting slightly from foot to foot. Again, he rubs his wrist, the bones clicking together unnaturally.

“Alright, then you need to bathe before I treat you.” You reply bluntly.

“Excuse me?” He blinks, clearly taken aback by your command.

“Well, other than the fact that you reek for the moment, the cleaner you are, the easier it will be to treat your wounds.” You explain, a knowing look to your eyes. “Wounds that I’m surprised haven’t started healing by themselves, yet.”

“Where the fuck do you suggest I do that?” He counters, irritated frown pulling at his features.

“If you learned some patience, Young One, you would have already been told the answer by now.” Your gaze sharpens, shoulders tenser than a moment ago.

His lips purse once more, jaw twitching slightly in response.

“I will allow you to bathe inside, but the second I sense any hostility from you, I will not hesitate to reestablish my barrier.” A firm look is sent his way. “Believe me when I say: you do not want to know what it feels like to have your lungs crushed from the inside out.”

Visibly, the eldest Hala swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing from the movement.

“Do you understand?” Your eyes flash, an undertone of a threat to your words.

A brief pause.

“I understand.”

“Good,” you nod once before backing away from him slowly. “You may follow me.”

Hesitantly, Seonghwa takes a step towards your house. Slowly, he raises his one hand, testing the entranceway for that barrier to see if he’ll run face first into that invisible wall. When he feels none, a mild look of surprise crosses his features, but it’s gone just as quickly as it appears. Wordlessly, he enters your house.

The whole time you lead him to your bathroom, you keep your front facing him. Your eyes are sharp, guiding him through the house without even so much as a glance behind you to check where you’re going. Even when you reach the bathroom, you keep your gaze fixed on him while you begin to set everything up.

To say Seonghwa is a little unnerved would be an understatement. He would have thought you’d need to check your surroundings at least once on the trek to your bathroom. However, the way you watch him like a hawk doesn’t necessarily surprise him. He knows he deserves it. Hell, if he were you, he’d be doing the exact same thing.

“The towel is on the rack.” You comment, moving around him once he fully steps into the room. “Unfortunately, I cannot wash your clothes in such a short amount of time, but I’ll lay out some fresh ones on the bed for when you’re done. Don’t worry, they’re not mine.”

“They belong to your cubs, or something?” His voice is low, eyes darting almost longingly to the tub with faint steam rising from it.

“Or something,” you breathe. “I’ll be in the kitchen once you’re done. You decide whether or not you want to keep your shirt on while I treat your wounds.”

Without another word, you’re closing the door quite harshly in his face.

Letting out a low sigh, Seonghwa runs a his fingers through his hair. His whole body aches, and it’s a pain to even so much as strip himself of his tarnished clothes, but he does. 

What’s even more surprising to him is how you actually agreed to help him. Sure, your guard is still high, and it’s clear you don’t trust him, but you still allowed him into your home. You still drew him a bath, and are going to treat his wounds.

Perhaps he should follow his instincts more often. Maybe, just maybe, Jongho and his other brothers are right. For once in his life, Seonghwa should swallow his pride. He may just likes what becomes of it.

Sliding into the water, the male nearly lets out a low groan at the way the warmth immediately begins to loosen his tense muscles. The faint scent of lavender and lilac fills the room, and he finds himself relaxing more into the tub the longer he lingers.

A little while later, and after Seonghwa has finished cleaning himself up, he steps out of the tub. Some of his smaller cuts have seemingly healed in the time he took to bathe, his muscles feeling looser and more relaxed.

Sure enough, once he steps out of the bathroom, nothing but a towel around his waist, he sees a small pile of clothes left on the end of your bed for him. They’re clean, but he cannot help but notice the undeniable scent of a male faintly clinging to the material.

For some reason, it bothers him.

Yet, you sure are extending a tremendous amount of trust in him right now. Maybe, you’re simply testing him. Seeing what he will do if left alone in your room without you watching over him at every turn. He could tear your entire house apart right now if he wanted to, but he doubts you would let him so much as scratch your walls. Either way, he’s still cautious. He doesn’t trust you fully yet, either.

Stepping back into the kitchen, he sees you already leaning against the side counter with your arms crossed. Jars and bowls of ointment and herbs rest on the counter before you, oil lamps spread throughout the room and illuminating the space brightly.

“Better?” You meet his gaze, not even fazed that he left the shirt you gave him undone for the moment.

A curt nod is all that greets you in response, his hand once more coming up to rub at that one wrist of his. Again, a small clicking can be heard emanating from the bones each time he rolls it.

You click your tongue. “You really don’t know how to survive in the wilderness on your own, do you?”

“Of course I do!” Immediately, he goes to defend himself, scowl taking over his features. “I just-“

You raise a hand in the air, halting his protests dead in their tracks. “You fell into a bush of wild rat thorns while chasing something, didn’t you?”

At the way he remains silent, you have your answer.

You sigh. “Are you aware of what wild rat thorns are?”

“They’re thorns, aren’t they?” He replies smartly, his features twisted into a frown.

You snort out a laugh. “You’re technically not wrong.”

“If my wrist didn’t give out on me, I wouldn’t be in this mess right now,” he snaps, eyes flashing dangerously as he meets your gaze. “It’s your fault I’m hurt.”

“Not my problem you let it heal incorrectly.” You hum, pushing yourself off of your counter in order to step towards your supplies all laid out before you. “Also, not my fault, when I was simply defending myself against your disgraceful attack.”

“I should have just killed you when I had the chance,” his scowl deepens, fangs glinting in the light of the lamps.

You sigh, shaking your head. “Do you not ever tire of the front you put up, Hala? Does it not weigh on you every day?”

The way his breath hitches is slight, but you do not fail to miss the way he freezes momentarily in his spot.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” His voice is low, deadly.

“Don’t I?” You quirk a brow, leaning forward to rest your one palm flat on the counter before you. “You’re the type to carry the weight of the entire world on your shoulders. Every little thing that goes wrong, you blame yourself for, lashing out at anything or anyone when they try and get close. You wish to become stronger so those same mistakes never happen again, and when they do, it consumes you. You always feel as if you have something to prove, too. ‘Best them before they can best you’, am I right?”

“What do you know about it?” He hisses, his eyes glazing over as a fresh set of tears begin to prick his vision.

“You and I are more alike than you realize,” you meet his gaze. “I was exactly as you are, once. I see my former self every time I look at you, back when I almost completely lost myself.”

Seonghwa’s expression is stern, whole body tense as he stands across from you. His hands are balled into fists at his side, and they begin to shake in a barely controlled rage. His eyes flash gold.

“You know nothing.” He spits, tone but a harsh growl on his lips.

“I know more than you do, Boy,” your own eyes flash in warning, mixing some herbs together in a bowl. “I know how toxic your behaviour can be, especially to those around you. There is only so much that another can put up with, if you do not choose to change, even if they care about you deeply.”

“You don’t know me.” His voice is low, body angled towards you as if he’s ready to strike at a moment’s notice.

“No, I do not,” you agree. “And you do not know me. But, as I have said, I have been where you are, and believe me when I say that you do not want to slip any further down that cliff. There is almost no coming back from it.”

Seonghwa smartly remains quiet, but there’s no hiding the disgust that pulls at his features.

“Now, would you still like me to treat your woulds, or are you going to throw another tantrum and storm out?” You quirk a brow, raising the one mortar in your hand and shaking it slightly.

Seonghwa takes a moment to think over his answer before wordlessly sitting himself down on the stool at the edge of your counter. His decision seems to please you, for the corner of your lips are quirking upwards as you nod once in his direction.

“When was the last time you properly ate something?” You ask, grabbing a separate bowl off of the side counter as you approach him.

The way his stomach growls is answer enough.

“That’s what I thought.” You chuckle, sliding the bowl full of berries over to him. “Eat that, and then drink this.”

Pouring the mixture of herbs into a steaming cup of water, you begin to swirl the contents with a wooden spoon.

Warily, Seonghwa eyes the fruit before him. He can feel his stomach twisting in hunger, but he’s cautious. Who knows what you could have added to these berries while he wasn’t in the room.

“I didn’t poison them, if that’s what you’re worried about.” You roll your eyes, taking a step forward to pluck a berry from the bowl and pop it into your mouth. You make a big show of swallowing the fruit before meeting his gaze. “See.”

Still, he doesn’t move.

“Look, you need to have something in your stomach for the tea to properly work.” You sigh, rubbing at the bridge of your nose with you one hand. “I can see that the herbs in the bath helped your minor wounds, but if you’ve been practically starved these past ten days, drinking this on an empty stomach won’t be beneficial to your health.”

A moment of silence passes between the both of you as you continue to stare at one another. That is, until the sound of his stomach growling quite loudly cuts through the tension.

You chuckle, a knowing look sparkling in your eyes as he grumbles to himself. He pulls the bowl of berries in closer. Slowly, reluctantly, he begins to eat the berries, eyeing you cautiously all the while.

Exhaling an amused huff, you place the tea beside him. “Good Boy.”

It’s faint, but Seonghwa hates the way his back straightens the slightest bit at your words.

“How do you know all of this?” He asks after a few minutes of stillness.

“I believe I have mentioned before that my father has trained me vigorously since I was small.” You reply. “Then again, I’m surprised your brothers haven’t shared all that they can about me in their little story times.”

“I wouldn’t know,” he mumbles, finally take a small sip of the tea you’ve brewed him. 

The flavour isn’t anything special, but the more he drinks, the more strength he feels returning to his body. A warmth begins to spread outwards, radiating from the centre of his chest, heart beating firmer within. His wrist doesn’t hurt as badly, either.

“Ah,” you nod lightly in understanding. “I see.”

“The never shut up about you,” he says after a minute, staring into that now empty bowl.

“Do you still believe I have deceived them all with some spell?” Your voice is even, a hint of amusement bleeding through.

He takes a moment to think about it, hiding the lower half of his face behind the cup as he hums, “undecided.”

You laugh. For the first time in front of the eldest, you laugh.

To say the sound catches Seonghwa off guard would be an understatement, but it’s welcome, nonetheless.

“I may be strong, Hala, but deception is not something I have ever been good at.” You respond, grabbing a jar from your supplies on the counter and opening the lid. “At least, not bewitchments.”

At the familiar faint smell of lavender that fills the room when you open that jar, Seonghwa immediately know what type of ointment resides inside.

“Yes, you should be familiar with this paste,” you smile lightheartedly, watching as the tips of his ears dust a light red. “Yeosang informed me that you had run out of the last jar you stole.”

“Of course he did,” the eldest sighs, his one nail scratching lightly over a pattern on top of your wooden counter.

“Then, you know how to apply it,” you push the jar towards him.

“I thought you were supposed to be treating me?” He shoots you a brief look out of the corner of his eyes.

“I’m sure you don’t want me getting up close and personal with you any time soon,” you tilt your head knowingly. “You are more than capable of applying the treatment to the affected areas. Though, it won’t heal your wrist.”

“There’s nothing wrong with my wrist.” He counters, holding it to his chest protectively as his eyes narrow.

“Right.” You shake your head in disbelief. “And it doesn’t click every time you twist it.”

For the nth time this night, he purses his lips, but says nothing.

“It didn’t set, nor heal properly.” You continue.

“No thanks to you.” He spits, frown suddenly tugging onto his features.

“Would you like me to fix it for you?” You inquire, leaning once more against the side counter. “I can’t promise that it’ll be painless, but at least you won’t have any permanent damage this way.”

Seonghwa gently places his hand back onto the top of your counter, staring intently at his wrist.

“Why would you offer to help me? I’ve done nothing but disgrace you since we’ve met.” Seonghwa’s voice is low, words but a whisper on his lips.

“I am not unreasonable, Hala,” you reply, tone soft as if you’re coaxing a child out from hiding in the closet. “Like I said, you and I are more alike than you realize. Sometimes all it takes is one moment of kindness to show you a new perspective on life. Besides, I owe your brother.”

“I don’t understand you,” he shakes his head, lifting his gaze to meet yours in the next second. “You hold yourself like an ancient, yet you aren’t one. Why?”

“Does that bother you?” The corner of your lips tug upwards as you move to pull up another stool across from him.

“Not going to lie,” he rests both his palms flat on the table. “It pisses me off.”

“Because you hate the ancients?” You ask casually, dragging over a small bowl filled with a herbal liquid to rest before you. A cloth rests over the side, to which you begin to drag through the mixture, squeezing out the excess shortly afterwards.

“How do you know if I hate the ancients or not?” His tone is guarded, but he doesn’t look away.

“I told you, we are more alike than you think,” you sigh, wringing out the final drops of that mixture from the cloth. “Give me your wrist.”

Extending your left hand out, you hold it with the palm facing upwards to him.

Briefly, his eyes dart from your face to your hand, a hint of hesitancy to his movements. Still, he reaches out his injured wrist, placing his hand in yours gently.

Your touch is soft as you tenderly wrap the cloth around his wrist. In fact, it’s much more tender than anything the eldest could have ever expected.

A shiver caresses his spine.

“This will hurt,” you repeat your words from earlier as you meet his gaze. “Do you need to bite down on something, or will you be okay?”

“I’ll be fine,” his reply is gruff, already preparing himself for what is about to come.

“Brace yourself,” you warn. “I promise to make this quick.”

“Will you hurry up already- fuck!” 

A loud crack echoes around the room as tears spring to the eldest eyes. The fingers of his other hand dig harshly into the wood of your counter, and he’s surprised he doesn’t smash the wood with how hard he’s gripping onto it. His bottom lip is pulled between his teeth, puncturing the skin lightly. Enough so, that he can taste the faintest bit of blood on his tongue.

Softly, you coo at him, brushing your thumbs overtop of the cloth as you set his bones properly. 

Seonghwa takes this time to observe you carefully. Your face holds no malice in your expression, a softness to your features as you caress his wrist. There is an air about you that demands attention and respect, but he thinks it’s not even conscious on your part. An air of which he’s drawn to, inexplicably.

His gaze shifts back to your hands, still cradling his one wrist so tenderly. His eyes lock on faint scars lining your skin, raised in uneven bumps along the surface. Though, with the way they follow a circlet type pattern around your wrists, a sort of understanding washes over him. Scars of which he or his brothers have never noticed before, until he got this close.

As soon as you’re done, it’s like a wave of calm settles over him. His chest still heaves, but he finds the pain in his wrist ebbing away with each breath he takes. The bones in his wrist are healing unnaturally fast, and he realizes with one glance into your golden eyes, that this is your doing.

“You’re a healing dragon.” He states, a sense of awed bitterness radiating off of him.

“Not quite,” you sigh, finally releasing the hold you have on his wrist and taking the cloth with you.

“The hell do you mean, ‘not quite’,” his lips curl, that familiar anger flashing within his eyes.

“My existence is a myth in itself, Boy,” your eyes narrow as you push yourself up from your spot, moving to dump the excess liquid into the sink.

“What do you mean?” His brow furrows as he leans back slightly in his seat, observing you carefully. “Is that why there are scars of iron burnt around your wrist?”

A warning growl echoes around the room. “Be careful, Boy. You are asking questions way beyond your league.”

Seonghwa takes a moment as he looks down at his own hands which he has pulled into his lap. His wrist no longer hurts. Instead, a dull warmth has settled in his bones beneath his skin. He flexes his hand. “I’m sorry.”

You drop the bowl into the sink.

A brief silence settles over the both of you, only breaking once Seonghwa clears his throat.

“Thank you for healing my wrist.” He stands, and you can only blink at him in shock as he bows to you. “I apologize for all that I have done to hurt you. I can never take back my words or actions, but I realize now that I have misjudged you. Thank you for taking care of me when I don’t deserve it.”

A few more seconds pass by with him bowed lowly to you before he’s straightening himself. A moment later, and he’s heading towards your backdoor.

“Where do you think you’re going?” The corner of your lips quirk as you lean against the side of the counter.

“I fear I’ve overstayed and overstepped.” He replies.

“You’re suddenly a lot calmer than you just were a few minutes ago.” You comment. “What changed?”

Briefly, his gaze darts down to your wrists, and you sigh.

“So, seeing the scars my old iron shackles gave me was the deciding factor?” You voice, and you watch as he’s shifts uncomfortably from foot to foot.

Again, he remains silent.

“You certainly are a strange one, Hala,” you shake your head before motioning back to the stool he had previously been occupying with your chin. “Sit. We have much to discuss.”

Slowly, he creeps back over to his seat, sitting himself stiffly on the stool. He can only watch as you slide that still open jar of ointment closer to him from over the counter.

“Looks like you now pity me in the same ways I pity you,” you hum.

“I don’t need your pity,” he retorts, snatching that jar off of the top of the counter as he begins to rub the ointment over his upper body.

“And I do not need yours.” You agree. “That does not prevent it from still being there.”

“You never answered my earlier question.” He diverts the topic. “About why you hate the ancients.”

You move back over to your own stool, tugging it a little further out from the counter before sitting back down.

“Most of the ancients hold power to the highest regard. It has been engrained into me since I was small, and took years for me to unlearn that power isn’t everything.” You begin, eyes narrowing carefully at the dragon across from you. “I guard myself as I do because my father always raised me as a weapon. I was not supposed to ever exist.”

“That does’t explain why you hate the ancients.” He mumbles, pausing only briefly in his application of the salve to glance upwards in your direction.

“I don’t hate my Uncle, but I certainly resent my father.” Comes your blunt reply.

Seonghwa nearly drops the jar in his one hand before clinging to it for dear life. His eyes widen significantly, gaze darting upwards to meet your own.

“The reason I hold myself like an ancient, Boy, is because I was raised by one.” You state, voice giving away a hint of bitterness as you speak these words.

“Your father is an ancient.” His jaw nearly drops, sitting stunned in his spot.

“He’s the one that made that goddamn prophecy, too.” You spit, pure ire shining on your face. “And if you so much as ask me about that fucking Jewel, I will tear your limbs off, and shove them down your throat.”

Seonghwa raises his one hand in understanding, knowing very well that you will hold true to your threat. Even if he so badly wants to ask. Still, he cannot help the questions racing through his head. Though, one sticks out more than all of the rest.

Do his brothers know?

“I would appreciate you not spreading this around,” you’re quick to continue. “Your brothers are not aware of this fact yet, and I would like the chance to tell them myself.”

Guess that answers that.

“Why would you tell me this, then?” His eyes narrow, shifting his gaze from the jar in his hand to you.

“You said that we are not enemies.” Comes your blunt reply, tilting your head upwards slightly and staring down your nose at him. “Prove it.”

“You confuse me.” He shakes his head before continuing to apply the salve to his injuries.

“The feeling is very much mutual at times,” you agree with a slight nod. “What confuses me even more is how you haven’t discovered your power, yet.”

The jar of ointment falls from his hand.

“Careful with that, it takes a week to brew,” you tut, raising a finger and causing the jar to begin levitating in the air before being gently placed on top of the counter.

“How the fuck do you know I haven’t discovered my power, yet?” His chest heaves, eyes sharp as he glares at you.

“I have already told you countless times tonight how similar we are,” you begin. “Why do you think I understand your personality so well? At least, most of it.”

“You’re wrong.” He huffs, arms crossing in front of his chest. “I don’t have a power. I never have, and I never will.”

“Is that so?” You tilt your head in inquiry at him, mirth dancing in your gaze. In a flash, you’ve reached beneath your counter, only to stab your dagger into the top of the wood. “Tell me, do you recognize this?”

His eyes glint maliciously, guard high and whole body tense.

“How could I ever forget the blade you almost killed me with.” He sneers, leaning as far back from you as the stool will allow.

“That’s the thing, Hala,” you meet his gaze. “It should have killed you. In two, maybe three minutes, tops. Do you know how long you lasted?”

Seonghwa remains quiet.

“Fifteen.” You answer for him. “You lasted fifteen minutes before I started treating you with the antidote.”

“So, what?” He huffs, clearly unamused. “I got lucky.”

“Diluted frost berry leaves make anyone vomit on contact with their tongue,” you continue. “You had to ingest two spoonfuls in order for it to take effect.”

“I think my body was focussing on expelling the poison at that point.” He counters.

“It had already been expelled.” You reply, somewhat bluntly. “The fact that you could even move as much as you did after everything was a miracle, but not when you think about it logically.”

“I don’t understand what you’re saying.” He states, fidgeting in his seat.

“You told me that you fell into a bush of wild rat thorns tonight.” You place your hands onto the top of the counter, palms facing down as you lean forward. “Do you know what type of plant that is?”

He takes a moment to think before shaking his head.

“Rat thorns are one of the most toxic plants on this side of the fjord. A simple scrape from them can render you unconscious. Multiple pricks and you will become paralyzed. They are commonly used in assassinations as when their thorns are ground into a fine powder, they do not emanate a smell, nor do they have any taste.” You explain, and you watch his face drain of any and all colour. “Any other regular dragon would have died on contact, if not shortly after. The closest location of rat thorn bushes to my home is ten minutes away at top speed. You should have dropped dead within a minute. Yet, you managed to make it all the way back to my place, still breathing.”

Seonghwa begins to shake his head, standing to his feet with enough force to knock the stool he had been sitting on to the ground.

“The reason, Seonghwa, that your wounds do not immediately close when you get them,” you mirror his stance, leaning forward even further once you’re on your own two feet, “is that your body is working to expel any toxins you might have incurred during injury. Only when it deems those toxins have left your system will your cuts truly begin to heal.”

He clutches his head, backing up against the wall as his whole body shakes.

“This can’t be happening,” he mutters, tugging at his roots harshly. “This isn’t happening.”

“The reason, Seonghwa, that you are so prideful and stubborn, directly correlates to your power. A power which you have always had since birth.” Your voice softens the slightest bit, gaze easing as you notice him spare a tentative glance upwards. “Negative thoughts can be just as toxic as any physical substance, seeping in and drowning you in doubt and darkness. You just need to find the antidote.”

Slowly, his trembling stops, but those tears he had been so desperately holding back begin to streak down his face.

“You are a dragon with the power of poison, Seonghwa,” you smile softly at him, a gentle reassurance that everything will turn out okay. “Do not let it intoxicate you.”

Slowly, the male begins to sink to your floor. His back is still against the wall, eyes intently staring at his shaking hands.

“All my life,” he breathes, a light sniffle escaping him. “All my life I believed myself to be powerless.”

“Which is why I’m assuming you hate the ancients for putting so much emphasis on personalized powers,” you voice, noticing how his head shifts to look up at you from his position on the floor. 

A subtle nod is all you receiving in response. 

“Also why I’m assuming you’re so obsessed with this heedless quest for the crown.” You add. “You wanted to prove yourself as a dragon without traditional powers that you could be just as strong and ruthless as those with them.”

Again, Seonghwa nods, wiping at his eyes soon after.

“You will not be able to change your entire personality overnight,” you state, and you watch as he shifts his gaze back to you. “Yet, you should be aware of these things to start improving upon them. I will tell you the same exact thing I told that hotheaded brother of yours. You need to find the balance, and not let your power consume you. You are more than just your power.”

You hold his gaze as he slowly pushes himself back to his feet, wiping at his tearstained cheeks all the while. Softly, he begins to nod once more, sniffling lightly as he calms himself down.

“Thank you.” He bows to you once more, and his actions catch you off guard, just as much now as they did the first time. “For everything tonight.”

You smile gently at him in response, and Seonghwa cannot help the way his breath hitches slightly in his throat when he rights himself to see that glorious expression on your features.

He swallows thickly. Have you always been this kind? This beautiful?

You grab the jar of salve off of the top of the table, capping it carefully.

“You best be getting home for some rest,” you cross the small distance to your backdoor, opening it and nodding slightly in his direction. “They’ve all been worried about you.”

“I doubt they’ll even want to see me again,” his shoulders slump slightly as he trudges to the open doorway. “I’ll be lucky if they even let me back in.”

“Simply tell Hongjoong that you’re all finally ready to be taught.” You see confusion pull at his features at your words, causing you to chuckle. “He’ll understand.”

Despite his brow furrowing slightly, you see him nod.

“Don’t forget this,” you say, tossing the jar with the remainder of the salve in it at him, to which he catches easily. “Also, tell Yeosang and Yunho that I’ll meet them the day after tomorrow near the front entrance to my village at dawn.”

“Okay,” the eldest Hala nods once in understanding. He goes to take a step towards the forest before he’s halting in his tracks. A blink, and he’s turned back around to face you. “How can I ever repay you?”

You smile, leaning against the frame of the door as you cross your arms loosely over your chest. “I think you should be able to surmise that on your own, after everything we’ve discussed tonight.”

Understanding flashes across his features, and he nods once firmly in your direction.

“Do not make me regret trusting you, too, Seonghwa.” You say, keeping your voice level as you meet his gaze. “You will truly not like what happens if you do.”

Again, Seonghwa nods his understanding, bowing once more to you before shifting and taking off into the night sky.

A small smile rests on your features as you retire into your house for the evening. Slowly, you begin to put everything away, taking your time to clean and store the remainder of the herbs you’ve left out for the moment. The oil lamps are slowly put out until one remains in your hand as you retreat into your bedroom for the evening.

Tonight went much better than you ever expected it could from the moment you sensed him drawing near. You have no idea what the future has in store for you, but with how things are beginning to look, you believe it can only get brighter from here.

Speaking with the eldest Hala has also made you realize a few things. Things you just might be ready and willing to begin sharing with others again. 

One dragon in particular sticks out in your mind.

You firmly believe that Seonghwa will keep his word and not tell the others about the personal truths you revealed to him this night. You see your younger self in him too much to believe he would betray you like that. Especially after tonight.

The fact that you wake up to a basket of fresh produce sitting upon your back porch the next morning only confirms it. Not just any produce, either, but the same exact produce that he had made you drop that very first evening. Back when you had met him all those weeks ago.

[swifty-fox]

so would anyone care for a Kfak-Compliant Brady one shot?

Telling Major John Egan to jump is the first and last time Johnny Brady gives an order to a superior officer. It’s automatic, not-thought out. A knee-jerk reflex; if I don’t make sure this man gets off my ship he’s not leaving. 

He can’t go without him. The idea of facing Buck Cleven in a prison camp or in the afterlife however many hours, days, years from now and telling him he let his man die is unfeasible. It’s not how the rules work. Buck and Bucky make it, that’s the big rule. So if he breaks the little rules, ordering Major Egan to jump, taking him up in his fort even though he’s not supposed to be here, then he rationalizes it that way. 

It’s quiet up in the sky, the sound of burning screeching metal snatched away in seconds by momentum and gravity. He’s alone for the first time in years, and it’s a disconcerting panicked feeling as he floats helpless in blue, blue heavens. When he hits the ground, rolling his ankle and gouging a furrow in thick peat mud and without his Major, he realizes just because he made John Egan jump doesn’t mean he’s saved his life. It’s automatic, standing and testing his ankle on the strange moss-covered ground that pitched and wobbled like the deck of a ship with every shift of his weight. Sinks his teeth into his wrist until blood bubbles to muffle his cry when his ankle barely accepts his weight. Bundles his parachute and stuffs it in the mud so the white color doesn’t give him away and rips his insignias from his uniform.

It’s the best he can do.

It’s not more than two hours before he’s captured, gun to the back of his head and harsh German voices telling him to kneel. Mud that’s also blood coating his face and burning with a rage so hard he shakes. It could be the cold, sunk down to his bones with damp and unfamiliarity. Soil that wasn’t his by birthright, you don’t belong here soldier boy. This isn’t your gravedirt. It could be cold and grief and fear, but he chooses to name it as rage and grits his teeth as he limps on his bum ankles and tells the interrogator his name rank and number and recites his mother's recipe for soda bread when anything else tries to come up. 

Has Major Egan or Major Cleven come through? Did you pick up a man named Bernard Demarco?

They threaten to kill him. He’s reliably sure it’s a bluff, because there’s rules to all of this. They try to woo him and he knows that’s a bluff because you don’t make soldiers with kindness. He has his rules, he has his orders. He says nothing and wishes they would hit him so he could hit back. Wishes they would turn the blood he tastes on his teeth real so it feels less like terror.

They don’t. Everyone follows routine.

A RAF pilot binds his ankle on the train ride to the rest of his war, it rains and he cups his hands through the slats of the train to wash his face clean of peat-mud. Chill settles over them all at night, damp and horrible and he doesn’t sleep a wink, too aware of being surrounded by men who didn’t belong to him until David Solomon and Crank’s heads pop up from down the other end of the cart and the three of them fall together in a hushed pile of who made it who did they see who went down. Did you see John Egan? Did you see Bucky I got him out but I lost him in the clouds.

He wonders if maybe God snatched Bucky right from his parachute harness. 

He gives Solly his crucifix, feels mildly sick when it’s pulled from his slack fingers and almost snatches it back until Crank takes in the look on his face and presses his rosary into Brady’s empty palm.

“Here. It’s my sister’s anyway, she’d rather it be on the neck of someone who uses it.”

“Thank you,” it’s unfamiliar against his chest, warm from Crank’s body heat and a different shape. But it’s got fifty-nine beads like all the rest and he counts them one by one with frozen fingers and recites the five decades in his head until he falls asleep on Crank’s shoulder. 

He’s never been a good sleeper, even before he started dropping bombs. Now and then he rouses enough that he feels the phantom of his grandmother's fingers in his hair, gnarled from years of hard work and soft in their caress, brushing filthy strands off his forehead. It’s her spare crucifix around Solly’s neck. He thinks she would forgive him. He thinks she would find it a noble decision.

[lemon-natalia]

Gideon the Ninth Reaction - Chapter 25

dont think i can express in words how much of a fucking rollercoaster this chapter was to read, i was genuinely gasping in shock every other sentence. 

everyone keeps emphasising the bone fragments in the Fifths bodies, and honestly i really don’t know what that means other than whoever killed them was presumably a necromancer? also maybe isaac is onto something about those skeletons spying on them, they really are everywhere

Isaac can make glowy lights with his powers?? necromancy is a much more catch-all term for magic than i thought it was

ok so the military isn’t just an institution, there really seems to be an active war going on? that begs the question against who, i thought the only places were the Nine Houses, but apparently not, there's mention later of ‘post-colony’ and ‘hold’ planets, it seems to properly be an empire. the world-building is getting very star wars. but said war can’t be going too well if they’re resorting to child soldiers and the Fourth House is apparently getting that badly hit.

brb getting flashbacks to that one library doctor who episode where all the lights start going out. this chapter with all the blood wall writing is probably the creepiest since the one featuring Harrow’s zombie parents

well if Pro had to face The Bone Amalgamation 2: Electric Boogaloo he’s definitely dead

it's not even Jeannemary, whos been so on edge this whole time that eventually breaks, its Isaac. ohhh, poor poor Isaac. i knew that one of them would just snap and do something reckless soon, i still just wasn’t emotionally prepared for this

Jeannnnmaryyyyyy, the way Gideon has to pull her away from going after Isaac is killing me. she’s just lost her life-long best friend and literally the only person she has left. and poor Gideon as well, there was nothing she could even do, and she’s just doing her best to take care of Jeannemary, and even that ends tragically 

immediately after reading the previous section, i was shocked by isaac's death, but also (i'm sorry isaac) at least glad my favourite of the two was still alive. and then the ending of this chapter hit me like a freight truck, and i literally had to reread it three times before my brain computed Jeannemary was gone.

what the fuck is up with those blood messages on the wall, whoever or whatever was doing this wasn’t just trying to kill them, its trying to get to them psychologically before it does so. and with the second message, though its possible it was meant for Jeannemary, i don’t know if she would even have had time to see it before she died. the more disturbing possibility is that it was meant for Gideon to see when she woke up, and taunting her

speaking of, even more disturbing is that for whatever reason they didn’t kill Gideon despite her being right there and also sleeping. that speaks to a slightly different motivation than simply getting rid of competition, it wanted her alive to see Jeannemary’s death?

and on top of that, Jeannemary was killed in a locked room outside of the facility, so absolutely nowhere in Canaan House is truly safe. Fun!

[emma-m-black]

Soul Mate Magic - Chapter Thirteen

Rupert Giles x OC (FanFiction) - MATURE 18+

A new magical transfer comes to Sunnydale High, and ends up discovering a magical connection with our favorite Watcher.

OC is 19+ (Not a Minor), Age Gap, Slow Burn-ish (with a little preview thrown in there during the Bandy Candy Episode).

____

Author Master List

Read: Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight, Chapter Nine, Chapter Ten, Chapter Eleven, Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen:

Rose had long since lost track of time, unsure how many days had passed since Ethan had trapped her in the musty washroom. The only hint of outside life came when a granola bar slid under the door, but otherwise, Ethan left her completely alone. He knew she wouldn’t harm herself—if she did, it would also kill Giles, a fact that kept her tethered to this miserable existence.

Her body was deteriorating. She had figured out how to manage basic tasks, like using the toilet and drinking from the bathtub tap, but she was wasting away. Her clothes hung loose, practically draping off her frail form, and her bones pressed sharply against her skin. Her joints ached constantly, and the relentless throb at her temples never ceased. Sleep came only in brief, restless spurts, each moment of unconsciousness offering no real escape from the prison she was trapped in.

It was during one of these fleeting naps that a thunderous crash jolted her awake. Confusion and fear clouded her senses as she struggled to make sense of the garbled shouts echoing from somewhere outside. Then, suddenly, the door was flung open, and a figure appeared in the doorway like a beacon of light cutting through the dark.

“Buffy,” Rose whispered, her voice cracking as she stared at her rescuer.

“I found her!” Buffy’s voice rang out, clear and strong. She quickly stepped aside to let Giles in. His expression was a twisted mask of rage, but the moment his eyes met Rose’s, all that fury melted away. His gaze softened, his anger giving way to something far more fragile.

Rose blinked, taking in the sight of him—his bloodshot eyes, the dark circles beneath them. The separation had taken its toll on him, too. She could see the exhaustion in every line of his face.

“Rose,” he whispered, his voice breaking as he dropped to his knees in front of her, gathering her frail body into his arms with careful reverence.

“Rupert,” she rasped, barely able to form the word, her voice too weak from days of silence.

Buffy, ever efficient, broke the chain binding Rose with a swift motion, and Giles wasted no time, lifting her up with a gentleness that nearly undid her. He carried her from the cramped room into the suite’s main area, setting her down with the utmost care. His hand, warm and steady, came to rest on her sunken cheek.

“Rose, are you hurt? Did he do anything to you?” His voice was soft, but there was a tremor beneath it, his palm trembling ever so slightly against her skin.

Tears welled in Rose’s eyes, and she shook her head, unable to speak. The overwhelming relief at being free, at being in Giles’s arms, was almost too much to bear.

“Willow, stay with her,” Giles instructed, pulling his hand away with a reluctance that did not go unnoticed. Rose’s gaze followed him, her heart tightening as she saw Xander standing over Ethan, a crossbow aimed squarely at the warlock. And then Giles lost control.

Rose flinched as his fist connected with Ethan’s face. Once, twice, three times, each hit landing with a sickening thud. Blood splattered, painting Giles’s hand crimson.

“Stop,” Rose whispered, but her voice was too faint. They didn’t hear her. “STOP!” she screamed, summoning every ounce of strength left in her broken body.

The room fell silent, and Giles’s wild eyes found hers.

“He knows,” Rose choked out. “He knows how to break the spell.”

Ethan’s strangled laugh cut through the air. “She’s right, Ripper. How will you free her from your magic if I’m dead?”

Giles’s face paled as the reality of Ethan’s words sank in. “What are you talking about?” he demanded.

“The spell, Ripper. Your spell, our spell. It’s over twenty years later, but there she is—your equal.”

Giles turned to Rose, his eyes wide with shock. “Dear God,” he muttered under his breath, his gaze flickering between her and the bloodied man beneath him. The horror in his eyes mirrored her own. Then, with one last punch, he staggered to his feet, barking an order to restrain Ethan before storming out of the room.

Rose watched helplessly as Buffy and Xander tied Ethan up, her wrists still bound by the enchanted cuffs. Willow moved to examine them, her fingers carefully tracing the metal.

“There’s a keyhole,” Willow murmured. “There must be a key around here somewhere.”

It didn’t take long. The key was tucked inside Ethan’s pocket, and as soon as Willow unlocked the cuffs, Rose felt a surge of energy rush through her. It was like being plunged into a pool of warm water after freezing in ice. For the first time in what felt like forever, she could breathe freely again. But with that breath came a crushing wave of grief, shame, and guilt.

The connection to Giles snapped back into place, and she felt everything—his despair, his guilt, his self-loathing. And she felt her own sorrow, knowing that despite everything, she was still bound to him by a spell neither of them had asked for.

With shaky legs, Rose stood, brushing off Willow’s offer of help. “I’ll be fine. Just… give us a minute,” she whispered, her voice steadier than she felt. She made her way to the door—or what was left of it, noticing that it had been blasted to splinters scattered across the floor.

Stepping outside into the cool night air, Rose spotted Giles leaning heavily against the railing a few doors down. His shoulders sagged under the weight of an invisible burden, and even from a distance, she could see the way his hands gripped the metal, knuckles white as if holding on were the only thing keeping him upright. His head hung low, his posture defeated, as though the truth had carved deep into his soul.

Rose placed a trembling hand on the railing, steadying herself as she made her way toward him. The sound of the railing rattling under her weight seemed to pull Giles from the abyss of his thoughts. He looked up slowly, his eyes hollow and haunted. The raw guilt in his gaze hit Rose like a punch to the chest, suffocating in its intensity. He looked like a man staring at the wreckage of his own destruction.

“Rose,” he whispered, voice hoarse and thick with regret. The word trembled as it left his lips, as though he barely had the strength to say it. “I’m so sorry… I didn’t—” His voice broke, and he swallowed hard, his brow furrowing as he fought against the overwhelming tide of grief. “I didn’t know.”

She stopped a few steps away, wanting to close the distance between them but unsure if she could handle the weight of his guilt pressing down on her, too. “I don’t blame you, Rupert,” Rose said softly, her voice shaking despite her best efforts to be steady. She could see it in his eyes—he was unraveling.

“Rose—” Giles’s voice cracked again, and he shook his head, as if rejecting her forgiveness outright. His fists clenched at his sides, nails digging into his palms. “You should blame me,” he rasped, barely more than a breath. “How could you not? I did this. It’s my fault—” His words came in a rush, almost frantic. His gaze dropped to his hands, staring at them as if they were drenched in blood. “My past… it’ll never stop haunting me.” His voice was little more than a broken whisper, laced with self-loathing.

Rose’s heart twisted painfully in her chest. She had seen Giles guilt-ridden before, but not like this. This was different. This was soul-deep. “Rupert,” she breathed, stepping closer now. “The spell didn’t create anything that wasn’t already there. It didn’t make you care for me. It didn’t make me love you. That was us… not magic.”

Giles’s face contorted, a pained expression twisting his features. His eyes squeezed shut, as if trying to block out her words—words that should have offered comfort but instead seemed to make the weight of his guilt even heavier. “But what if it did, Rose?” His voice was strangled. “What if none of this is real? I’ve ruined you. I-“

“Stop,” Rose whispered, her own voice cracking now. “Don’t do this. Don’t give Ethan that power over you. You’re not the villain in this, Rupert. He is.” She took another step, close enough now to feel the heat radiating off his body. “Ethan wanted this. He wants you to suffer, to feel guilty, to question everything you are. But don’t let him win. Please.”

Giles’s breath hitched as her words sank in, but the guilt still clung to him like a shadow. He shook his head, his voice barely audible. “I should have stopped this that day in the library. I should have been strong. I’ve only ever brought pain into your life…”

Rose couldn’t bear the sight of him tearing himself apart. “You didn’t bring pain into my life,” she said firmly. “You brought meaning, and strength, and yes, complications. But you didn’t break me. You didn’t cause this. Besides, remember me, I’m the one who’s family cursed you. Pretty sure that came before your little love spell.”

Giles lifted his gaze slowly, and she could see the flicker of disbelief warring with the torment in his eyes. “This is different, Rose.” His voice was so quiet, so filled with despair, that it almost broke her. “You’ve been through so much because of me. Look at you…” His voice caught in his throat, as though the sight of her frailty, of what she’d endured, was too much for him to bear. “I failed you, Rose.”

Rose gave a soft, bitter laugh, shaking her head. “It’s my hair, isn’t it? I know it must be a mess?” she asked, trying to lighten the moment, to pull him back from the edge of his despair.

Giles blinked, and for the briefest second, the weight on his shoulders seemed to lift, just a little. His lips twitched, the faintest shadow of a smile. “You could never be anything less than beautiful,” he murmured, his voice so soft, so sincere. It sent a wave of warmth through her, even amidst the pain.

She stepped closer still, her heart aching for him. “Please don’t let him do this to you. Don’t let Ethan use your past against you. You’re more than your mistakes, Rupert. You’re more than what he’s trying to make you believe.”

Giles took a shaky breath, his hand rising once more to cup her cheek. His touch was gentle, reverent, as though he feared she might break beneath his fingers. Rose leaned into the warmth of his palm, her eyes fluttering closed, taking comfort in the small gesture.

“I am truly sorry I got you involved in this,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

Rose opened her eyes, her lips curving into a soft smile despite the heaviness that still lingered in the air between them. “That’s supposed to be my line,” she replied gently.

For a moment, the darkness seemed to recede, the faintest glimmer of hope flickering between them. Giles managed a small, fragile smile, and it tugged at Rose’s heart in a way that made her breath catch.

“Rose—” Giles began, but before he could say more, Xander’s voice cut through the night air, sharp and clear.

“Guys, I hate to break this up, but mister continually messing with our lives won’t shut up.”

The moment shattered, but Rose kept her gaze on Giles, silently willing him to hold on to the spark of hope they had just kindled. She would not let him drown in his guilt. Not now. Not ever.

When everyone was back in the room, Rose found herself seated on the edge of the bed, her body barely holding itself up. Xander’s arm wrapped protectively around her, but it was more than comfort—it was the anchor keeping her from slipping into the darkness that had been threatening to overtake her. She leaned on him heavily, the warmth of his body a reminder that she was still alive, still here, even though her mind was fraying at the edges. Every breath felt heavier, her vision swimming as she fought to remain conscious, the world around her blurring and twisting with exhaustion.

Across the room, Willow stood vigilant at the doorway, her eyes sharp but her posture tense. Buffy loomed over Ethan, who was slumped against the wall, his face a bloody mess, but his lips still curved into that same maddening smirk. Giles, on the other hand, had positioned himself at the far end of the room, his back pressed firmly to the wall as though the distance between them all was a barrier to his guilt—a futile attempt to separate himself from the storm of emotions swirling inside of him.

“So, Ripper, how did you ever find us?” Ethan sneered through a split lip, his voice slithering through the room like poison.

“No, we are the ones asking the questions here,” Buffy said, her disgust palpable as she glared down at him.

Rose’s ears rang with Ethan’s words, but the weight of them didn’t fully register, even when her focus remained steady on the man tied up in bed sheets. It was the only thing she could do now. She couldn’t look at Giles, not yet. Not when her chest was so tight with confusion and pain. She feared that if she met his eyes now, everything would come undone.

“When we were young and stupid,” Giles began, his voice sounding far too small for the room, “Ethan and I performed a spell to find the soul that was our equal, in magic and in life.”

“And in love,” Ethan added quickly, the smirk never leaving his face. “I found mine about five years ago. Ripper, it would seem, took a little longer. Tell me, was it worth the wait? She is quite the little tart.”

There was a disgusting smugness in his tone that sent a shiver of revulsion down Rose’s spine. The word “tart” hit her like a slap to the face, the casual cruelty of it igniting a flare of anger she didn’t know she had left. The room seemed to shrink around her, the air thickening with tension.

“Shut up,” Giles ground out, his voice raw with barely contained rage as he took a step forward, his hands trembling by his sides. But Buffy moved quickly, stepping between the two men, her presence a reminder that violence wasn’t the answer—not yet, anyway.

“He knows how to break the spell,” Rose whispered, the words tasting bitter on her tongue.

“We can’t trust him,” Giles said, the desperation in his voice cutting through the space between them.

Rose struggled to her feet, pushing herself off Xander’s support as her legs wobbled beneath her. She was running on pure adrenaline now, her body screaming in protest as she forced herself to look at Giles. The weight of his gaze hit her like a tidal wave, and for a moment, she felt like she was drowning in it. The guilt, the fear, the regret—it was all there, etched into every line of his face, every furrow of his brow. He looked like a man standing on the edge of a precipice, one misstep away from falling into oblivion.

“We don’t have time not to trust him. If I die, you will too,” Rose said, her voice firmer now as she took a shaky step toward him. “It’s all horrible happenstance. My curse is that my coven needs to kill me to get another hundred years. Your line is connected to me through the first sacrifice, and I have to assume because we already shared that connection, your spell ultimately created a lifeline between us.”

Giles stared at her, his eyes wide with dawning horror.

“He could still be lying... about the death part,” Willow interjected, her voice soft but filled with uncertainty as she glanced between Rose and Giles.

Rose let out a long, tired sigh, her chest tightening with the weight of everything pressing down on her. “I don’t think so. He said Hugh was killed by the Council, but Ethan broke the spell between them before the event occurred. The longer we are cut off from each other—”

“Is that why Giles looks like death?” Xander’s voice interrupted, a hint of shock coloring his tone. “We just thought he was getting sick.”

“Ethan kept me here without magic to weaken us both,” Rose explained, her voice quieter now as the full implications of it all washed over her.

“So he could hand you over to your coven,” Giles added, his voice barely above a whisper, his hands clenched into fists as though he could somehow crush the guilt beneath his fingers.

Ethan snorted. “You really don’t understand how much I love to torment you, Ripper. They are going to get her either way, so I was going to hand her over to you when I was ready because I want you to break the spell, so that you can spend the rest of your pathetic life pining over yet another dead lover.”

The venom in Ethan’s words ignited something in Giles, and before anyone could stop him, he lunged toward Ethan. Buffy barely managed to push him back in time, her hand firm on his chest, keeping him from doing something reckless.

“We can’t take the chance. We need him alive.” Buffy said, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade. “We need to break this spell. Your family has been invading the town for weeks—”

“Weeks?” Rose whispered, her heart hammering in her chest. “Wait, how long has it been?”

“Sixteen days,” Giles whispered, his voice heavy with shame as he cast his eyes to the carpet. “You were cloaked somehow. We thought your coven had you... no matter what we did, we couldn’t locate you.”

Willow’s voice trembled as she spoke. “We only just found out from your father that it was Ethan who took you.”

Rose’s breath caught in her throat. “My father?”

“He came to the school,” Buffy added, her voice clipped and tense. “He told Giles that one of your uncles brokered the deal. Ethan was supposed to keep you contained until they were ready.”

The shock of hearing her family’s involvement hit Rose like a physical blow. Her world spun as she tried to process the betrayal. Her heart felt like it was being ripped apart, the trust she had in her family now hanging by a thread. But her father, her father, had helped.

“Just to be clear, like I said, I wasn’t going to give the girl over to them,” Ethan chimed in, smug as ever.

“Shut up!” Buffy snapped, waving the axe threateningly at him.

But Rose’s mind was elsewhere, racing through the puzzle pieces Ethan had thrown in front of them. Then, suddenly, a thought struck her. “He has my family’s dagger. The one used for our rituals “

All at once, the group sprang into action, tearing the room apart until they found a small box wedged between the headboard and the wall. Giles handed it to Rose, his fingers brushing hers for the briefest moment, sending a jolt of warmth through her cold, numb body.

When she opened the box, her hands trembling, she found the dagger sheathed in leather—a symbol of her family, of everything she was trying so hard to understand. But beneath it lay something else, something even more valuable. An old, weathered book.

“It’s a spell book,” Rose whispered, handing it to Giles. His eyes widened as he flipped through the pages, recognition lighting his face.

“It’s mine,” he breathed, the weight of the revelation crashing down on him. “The spell we did...”

“Does this mean we don’t need him anymore?” Xander asked, nodding toward Ethan.

“Yes, actually,” Giles said, his voice calm, but his eyes filled with a storm of emotions. “He was stupid enough to write the counter spell in the margins.”

Rose felt her heart twist at Giles’s casual tone, but her mind was already racing ahead. She looked down at the dagger in her lap, the weight of it heavy in her hands. “A curse can be broken.”

Giles’s head snapped up. “What?”

“A curse can be broken,” Rose repeated, more certain now. She turned the dagger over in her hands, the cold metal gleaming in the dim light. “This is one of the daggers the coven uses to induct its members. It grants access to our well of power. The dagger...”

Giles’s gaze followed hers to the blade, understanding dawning in his eyes. “If it can create the connection, it could sever it. You are the conduit for your family’s magical connection.”

Willow’s eyes lit up. “So we could, like reverse-engineer the curse? Cutting everyone else off from the magic? I... I saw the spell your family would have most likely use, in a book.” She bounced on the balls of her feet, excitement lighting her face as she turned her back to the door and looked at the others.

“That’s great news,” Xander said, pulling Rose a little closer. “Now can we leave? This place is seriously creeping me out.”

Buffy’s eyes darted toward the door, her expression shifting from annoyance to something more serious. “Actually, I’m getting the creeps too...” She moved swiftly toward the doorway, peering into the night. “And that’s probably because we’ve got company. We gotta go.”

The group moved swiftly to join Buffy by the door. Rose peered past the Slayer, her heart skipping a beat when she saw them—members of her coven—standing in the parking lot and lingering at the edge of the tree line. There were only five that she could count, but in her current state, she doubted she could muster enough strength to fend them off. Her body felt like glass, fragile and teetering on the brink of collapse. The real struggle, though, was her magic. It simmered beneath her skin, dormant and unused for too long, like an atrophied muscle refusing to cooperate.

Rose slipped the dagger into the back of her jeans, the cool handle seeping through her shirt as her thoughts drifted back to the library, to that night when her magic had instinctively sought Giles’s, binding them together in a rush of shared power. That connection had made them stronger then, and now… she needed that strength again. But this time, she needed more than just a touch. She needed all of him.

“Rupert,” she whispered, her voice shaky with something more than fear. Her gaze met his, full of urgency and a desire she could no longer deny. “I know this is the last thing you want to think about right now, but…”

Before he could reply, Rose surged forward, wrapping her arms around his neck as she kissed him with a desperation that had been building inside her for too long.

At first, she feared he would pull away—his hands gripped her arms, tense, as though trying to resist—but then everything changed. His resistance crumbled, and he hauled her against him with a force that made her breath catch. His lips crashed into hers with a hunger that stole the ground from beneath her feet. The kiss was fierce, intoxicating, and Rose’s entire world exploded into fireworks. It was as though the air itself had ignited between them. The power she’d been missing, the magic she hadn’t been able to touch—it roared to life, coursing through her veins as his lips claimed hers.

She moaned into the kiss, her hands tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him even closer. She couldn’t get enough of him, couldn’t get close enough—his hands were everywhere, searing a path across her back, her hips, cradling her face as if she might slip away. Each touch sent sparks racing through her body, as though her very soul was answering the call of his magic.

The connection between them deepened, and Rose could feel it—an electric charge that surged and pulsed, stronger with every passing second. Giles kissed her as though he’d been starved for this, as though he had been denying this moment for too long. His fingers pressed into her skin, and Rose’s heart pounded with the realization that nothing had ever felt so right, so needed.

The world faded—there was nothing but Giles. His lips, his hands, the way his body pressed against hers, all of it making her dizzy with want. She was drowning in him, and she didn’t care. Every nerve in her body was alive, every ounce of her being thrummed with the connection between them. It was as if the kiss itself was fueling her magic, filling the void that had been gnawing at her for days.

And then it was gone, ripped away as Buffy grabbed her arm and yanked them apart. “My God, you two are worse than teenagers,” Buffy groaned. “You know what I mean.”

Rose stood there, breathless, her lips still tingling from the kiss, her heart racing. Her body might still be weak, but her magic—it was alive now, pulsing beneath her skin. She could feel the energy buzzing inside her, power flowing back to her like a dam had broken. And when she glanced at Giles, she could see the glow returning to him too, his strength reborn in the aftermath of their kiss.

Whatever this connection was between them, it was undeniable. It had brought them together before, and now… it was all she wanted.

She had needed this.

She needed him.

Chapter Fourteen

[bluebunnyears-08]

How Prime Has The Potential To Be A Great Psychological/Lovecraft Horror

I know, I know, all of you are probably looking at this thinking I lost my mind.

But let me explain and show you how it could be a horrifying experience.

First, all of you are probably commenting on how Sonic is a family friendly franchise, but that doesn't necessarily mean EVERY media of Sonic SHOULD be this way. There are some family friendly franchises with mature and more serious spin-offs or adaptations.

So Prime can be a good start to deviating from it's other media's. But I'll get to that later, I should probably explain how it can be, and in a way is, a psychological and Lovecraft horror, more than just another cartoon. At least to me.

1. (Psychological) Exploring The Character's Emotional Trauma and Internal Conflicts Is a Different Approach to Most Sonic Medias

While most Sonic media's focus on action and saving the day, Prime takes a different approach. Instead of just being action and "Sonic saving the day", Sonic completely breaks his home, unintentionally shattering everything, including his friends. Shadow is also inadvertently dragged along, using a Chaos Emerald to save himself from the blast, but ending up trapped in the void.

If the variants being shards of the main characters is true, then Prime is working to deconstruct the characters, but some variants caught my eyes. There's Rusty, a robotized Amy, which sure, that's cool, but remember Amy's first known introduction in the Sonic CD? I only remember some parts, but wasn't Amy kidnapped by metal Sonic to be robotized or something? Another obvious variant is Nine, who was basically abused for being different, only this time Sonic wasn't there to help him? And Dread, a greedy Knuckles, kinda reminding me of how Knuckles was tricked by Eggman so the Doc could steal the master emerald?

Something just seems a bit more about these variants.

1. (Lovecraft) The Variants Situation if The Shard Theory Is True

If the Shard theory is true, then the variants existence is a nightmare.

Imagine having flesh and bone, imagine having thoughts of your own, imagine having a backstory of your own; only for it to be revealed that everything, your body, your thoughts, your experiences; your existence, to be a mistake. You weren't supposed to exist, and if the putting it back together = Shattered Space disappears is true, then you're doomed to die.

Doomed be mashed together with other shards, to be pieced together into someone you don't know, and will never meet. Your very existence is a lie, something that needs to be fixed with your death.

Yeah...not a pretty picture, is it?

2. (Psychological) Sonic's Emotional Turmoil

Sonic suffers a lot in this show. No, I don't mean the physical pain, that's a gag, I'm referring to the emotional suffering, which is very much there.

Sonic is horrified by these events; breaking his home, shattering everyone he loved and cared for, having to experience hatred, scorn, and hostility from those who look so much like his friends; from people who don't recognize him, and having to witness or hear about his friends suffering, being unable to really do anything about it without being met with apprehension.

He's clearly not enjoying any of this, or having any fun, at all.

2. (Lovecraft) The Paradox Prism Is Unsettling Itself

What is the Prism?

We know it's powerful as hell, being able to rip apart reality, and possibly time, and is capable of creating new spaces. But what else is it capable of? Where did it come from? Why is it here beneath the Green Hills Bedrock?

Whatever it is, it's the one in control after Sonic breaks it, ripping apart the world, throwing Sonic through dimensions, trapping Shadow in the void, and even responding to certain contacts.

It's glow almost seems like it calling, beckoning for someone to find it, to use it, to break it.

3. (Psychological) Shadow In The Void

How is Shadow doing in this void?

All memes aside, it's clear he isn't taking everything so well. As when he first makes contact with Sonic, he sounds despondent and absolutely devastated, stating: "It's broken! It's all broken!". His voice is slightly shaky when he does so too. But in his final contact with Sonic, is him furious and violent.

From his first contact to his last furious one, Shadow's mental state isn't exactly stable. Being stuck in the void doesn't help anything either. Some development happened to Shadow off screen, one I really hope we'll see.

Yeah, Shadow is not having a great time either. But development can never be fast, it takes time, which brings my next theory in mind below.

3. (Lovecraft) The Void

Ending up in the void is something I'd choose death over. Mainly because, when thinking about it, it's something nobody would wish on their worst enemy. Which makes Shadow being there so much harsher.

The void is an empty space, nothing but shards surrounding you, you're alone, with nobody to talk to. You're alone with your thoughts. But the scariest thing would be how long it must seem.

From what we've seen so far, time runs differently in the Shattered Space, the void can't be any different. It could've been years to Shadow, but time doesn't seem to run in the void, only in the Shattered Spaces. If anything time seems to pause, or just stop working in the void. It doesn't exist there.

Shadow definitely isn't having fun, especially when you consider his alliance with Rouge and Omega, and even worse, his promise to Maria to keep the world safe.

4. (Psychological) Nine Being A Part Of Tails Says Something About All Of Us

One of the things talked about a lot is how Nine, if the shard theory is true, was a part of Tails to begin with. This bitter, jaded, violent, desperate, traumatized, in pain child was a part of the happy, jolly fox we all know and love.

But, if the theory is true, Nine having been a part of Tails all along speaks about how there's a hidden side in all of us. All of that bitterness, cruelty, selfishness, trauma, denial, desperateness, and love/touch starved hope is in all of us. But we try to deny, to hide, to avoid acknowledging it, which only makes it never go away, or makes it worse.

It isn't just Tails that denies it though, which is a whole other thing of itself...

4. (Lovecraft) They Can't Be By Each Other's Side, Both Are Doomed To Be Alone In Some Way

One of the saddest truths about Prime is that Nine and Sonic can't be by each other's side, they can't be there for each other: no matter how much they don't want to be, they have to be alone. Sonic is from a universe that's now destroyed, thrust into the remains of his actions face-first, he can't connect with these variants of his friends, and is emotionally alone.

Nine is just a part of the universe Sonic can't stay in, so there's no chance of them ever staying by each other's side, he's alone in both ways.

The universe, the shards won't allow it, thrusting Sonic from Nine via shard or by Sonic himself. Not to mention the inevitable fate that Nine has to face along with his fellow variants.

Their entire relationship is a world of inevitable pain.

5. (Psychological) The Dark Matter, Symbolism, And Complex Themes Of Prime

There's no denying it, at its core, with the sprinkled moments of unease and signs of deeper depths in the first batch, so far Prime's setting up a dark story, one filled with harsh tragedy. Pretty much every character suffers and is going to suffer even more in the second batch, the aspects of Sonic that save the day, Friendship and Hope is actually deconstructed in this show, showing how friendship can become a means of escapism and can't really save the day, and how hope can instead damage someone to denial.

Sonic is without his friends here and the friends he made out of the variants is going to be shattered once they find out the truth, so friendship can't be used, and his hopes to fix the world are...almost desperate, like he doesn't want to acknowledge that maybe it can't be fixed.

Another thing is that Prime actually has a lot of symbolism hidden in it. The Grim being a literal landscape of escapism, Nine's nine tails, the variants themselves being representations of different traits, the palm tree being a symbol of desperate hope, and more.

The final thing is the early complex themes in the show.

The inevitable fact that the variants has to die to restore the world is a very grim one, but it shows how painfully insignificant and meaningless they are in the grand scheme of things. They’re just shards that need to come together. That’s the universe for ya.

The use of "Man vs. Self" in this show instead of having Sonic just save the day and defeat bad guys

The exploration that there's a dark, sad, traumatized part in all of us

The need for balance in everything

The exploration of desire vs need, and most importantly:

Selfishness vs selflessness.

5. (Lovecraft) The Grim Is A Lovecraftian Horror Of Itself

The Grim is hauntingly beautiful. The sky is every color of blue, filled with stars, the ground is orange and endless, and silver crystals jut out of it, some partly buried.

Look at how small and insignificant Nine and Sonic looks here, how vast the Grim is that you can't see where it ends. It's truly an unsettling wonder. It looks unsettling and it is unsettling, not at all an ideal place to live in.

There are no trees, no water, no signs of any life. Nothing. You're alone, surrounded by absolutely nothing. The only thing there is you and your imagination.

Why isn't there any variants here? Why is it so empty? Why doesn't it end?

There's no answer except your own thoughts, speaking much louder now that there's nothing to distract you from them. You're alone, an insignificant speck in a vast world of beauty and isolation.

Paranoia would kick in, you'd think you heard something, but there's nothing there.

That's what the Grim is, it's nothing but you, there's nobody here, there's nothing here, this place never ends, it's the physical representation of isolation, of perfect escapism.

And that couldn’t be more terrifying…

[writingwenches]

✍ WIP Thirsty Thursday ✍

As always, thanks for the lovely tag @rainwingmarvel7 💕

I was trying to decide today which lil snippets of my Aemma part two would be fun to share, then I decided why not all of it so far LOL read the lil top snippet or the whole thing, live your best life~

I still have a few scenes more to write, mostly Aemma finding purpose in hating her mother, especially after finding out about Rhaenyra/Daemon marriage (Aemma: 🤮), channeling sadness/disgust/hatred into something productive, probably some more Alicent worship. 🧚 Lots to do lots to do~ 🧚

Also, if anyone would like, I do need help naming Aemma's dragon 😈

This is not proof read, and content warnings: panic disorder/horror elements of a psychotic episode brought on by magical nightmares

I tag anyone who wants to! Because I'm still too chicken to overtag people T.T

Aemma Velaryon WIP

Aemma was hallow. Where her memory and her eyes met, there were only flashes. Fire and blood, and flesh and burns. The King received a raven, and called for his Lady Wife. The charred remains of Leanor’s body had been pulled from The Hall of Nine’s hearth. 

Queen Alicent had to deliver the news, even she could hardly remember. Pungent floral oils that sunk into the back of her throat, as Aemma shrieked them to the floor, her teeth bared to the gums, her lips contorted around a sound that howled from her deep belly. She breathed dragonfires of rage as she felt every inch of her skin stitched to her bones, her fingers dug into her own flesh to pry the bones from beneath collar. A fist of silver hair ripped from her bloodied scalp before the guards could wrestle her down onto the bed, one for each of her phantom limbs screeching for purchase against their captures. The Maesters forced the vile of red down her throat. Simple milk or tea would not due, they explained to the queen, the Maesters went straight to the essence of poppy. 

Aemma’s body betrayed her and slept, her mind trapped inside its skin and dragged to the volcanic bowls of torment. 

The Maesters informed the King and Queen it was for her own protection, she could not cause herself harm when sedated, and soon her emotions would pass, it was a simple matter of hysteria. 

A simple matter of simple solution.

Burning chains of steel and magma blazed through her skin and down to her bone, the shackles of eternity as she felt the motion of her dead corpse. Death was not a gift dreamed of in the mines of Old Valyria, it was an unknown currency, as her limbs animated around her trapped soul, the shackles of fire and the hammer of her life in hand her corpse resumed her work at the bidding of the fire mages, contorting her to their will, back to work, never to break. 

Aemma screamed beneath her skin, slamming her fists behind her eyes as she tried to claw her way through the flesh, she bore her fingers into the bloodied flesh and wrapped her fingers around muscle and tendon, ripping and pulling the sinew looking for the fainted trickle of light to show that she was digging towards something, towards anything. She was trapped within her bones, forced to bore her melting flesh into the rocks and stones to receive what master delights. The gold and jewels that makes master’s eyes shine do deeply that they would raise the dead from their hallowed slumber to continue toiling at rock and shine. 

Aemma felt her head being removed from her body.

She awoke to a mundane world, that she was allowed to remain if she did not speak. She imagined a golden needle threaded with silk piercing the skin again and again and again the silk was threaded through her skin and wrapped her mouth tightly shut. She couldn’t be drunked back into slumber if she remained silent. The scabs on her hands were mending, from where she tore at her flesh to stop the burning of the air against her skin. If she bleed herself she would be forced back into the darkness.

Aemma did not move. The phantom echo in her mind twisted around her wrists, the memory of guards holding her down. Four men with beards and gritted teeth, their hair tucked beneath their metal helms. Aemma could see their eyes as she fought against her limbs to hold her down. They waited in her room. When she awoke they were watching her. Aemma made sure the thick bedding was tucked against her neck as she watched their eyes from across the room. 

Queen Alicent slept at her bedside, Aemma watched as the embroidered shimmering green threads rose and fell with the queen’s breathing. She seemed to be at peace. 

Aemma wondered what that was like? Peaceful rest, without the crawling reminders up her skin and against her bones as her mind itched away at her, remaindering her of its presence, and its consequences. 

There was no funeral for her father, not one that she was allowed to attend. The had not waited for her. Aemma heard the news with her lips stitched shut in her mind, unable to react. The salt and sea and floated in her marrow dried and left crystalized coating beneath the part of her brain that housed family. She stared into the mural above her bed, the clouds above Old Valyria, filled with dragons and fire. 

Aemma looked into the clouds as she looked into her life, for the rest of her memory, the forward type, she wondered how much longer she would have to wake up, for every morning from here until her hellish fate. She looked at her plate with food that needed to be in her belly, or else she would waste away. The Maesters told the queen there were ways to force the food down, if she protested, the poppy essence makes it easier. On them. 

She listen her arm to listen her spoon from the table to her mouth. Her arm was made of stone by the weight of the effort, she imagined the number of times she would need to repeat the action until she was done on this earth. 

 The princess was not to eat with the princes and their sister, and was found new companions to be her ladies. 

—

Helaena had been made to sneak out against the shield of night, riding cloaked on a horse, up the hill to the dragon pit. The silent dragon keeper did little to stop her from descending into the stone depths to claim Dreamfyre as her own. 

The dragons hated Aemma with a fire hotter than anything before it. They screeched and screamed as if their skin was boiling, and desecrated anything that moved.

Helaena was not allowed in the dragon pit, because she had always been made to be with Aemma. Helaena had felt it, in her dreams, she had watched herself release the horse and claim her dragon. 

The only person who believed her was Aemma. Aemma had seen dragons die in her dreams, watched them fall from the sky, their scales flaking and their bones turning to ash. Aemma knew what it was to dream. She knew somewhere in her marrow the dreams spoke truth, and Helaena was proof that she had been right all along. 

The fires were real, the fires were coming, the fires were waiting for her around every corner, around every misplaced step and stone. Aemma must be ready, she must prepare, guard herself against everything frivolous and folly. 

“You must open your eyes,” said Aemma, holding onto the face of her aunt and companion, “you must look into my soul and tell me what you see.” 

Helaena did not speak, only held onto her niece’s arms firmly, wiling them away from her face. 

“You must see as I do! Look into my eyes,” Aemma voice was loudening. 

Helaena thought their faces were too close, their foreheads pressed together as Aemma held all of her vision within her eyes. The white circles ribbed with blood and lavenders, Helaena did not like the way her eyes shook, the way they stared into her and her alone. She could not look away, Aemma’s hands held her too tightly.

“Look into my eyes and tell me what you see, do you see the fire?” she asked, “Do you see the fire and death? Do you see the souls being tainted within their own skin?”

Helaenea was screaming now, for her mother or anyone to come and take her away. 

“Do you see the torment and cries of the people trampled beneath our feet? The lives lived and died without ever knowing the light of the sun?” 

It was the guards that pried her away, at the order of the queen. Four guards, and back into her bed. The Maesters took their time as she struggled against their hold, she cried and begged and pleaded to let her go, to let her be at peace, to let it all stop. 

It never stopped, as she found sleep, she found herself in the tormented place, and when awake she was trapped within her own skin. 

[abigailspinach]

Well if you can't get Daft Punk back

"Also of note, Nine Inch Nails is doing the theme music for the movie. Trent Reznor is known for his work on scores for films like "The Social Network" and "Soul," but this is him in full NIN mode. Hall described the music they played during the footage as "loud and abrasive," as well as "truly rattling." If we can't have Daft Punk, this is a fantastic replacement"

Read More: https://www.slashfilm.com/1638992/tron-ares-footage-reaction-sci-fi-turns-horror-nine-inch-nails-soundtrack-d23/

Is it possible that this horror-driven footage is a bait-and-switch, or at the very least not an entirely accurate depiction of the final film? Of course! That wouldn't be the first time this happened. But the final reveal that the film would be scored by alt-rock band Nine Inch Nails felt like a strange confirmation that the menace dripping from every frame was intentional. You don't bring in Trent Reznor to make something sonically upbeat — you bring him in when you want to feel panic inside your bones as your skin rattles off your body. For now, I can only assume that "Tron: Ares" is aiming to be a more upsetting, unsettling experience than the previous films in the franchise, a hard left turn into something more horror-flavored.

Read More: https://www.slashfilm.com/1641152/first-tron-ares-footage-looks-like-horror-movie/

[vintagelacerosette]

Tag Game catch up ✨️

I was tagged to do these awesome tag games made by our shining star Macy @celestialmickey & was also tagged by these angel pies Evie @energievie Julissa @heymrspatel Jay @surviving-maybe Harvey @mikhailoisbaby Willow @ian-galagher Kaka @stocious Auds @auds-and-evens Michelle @michellemisfit Leah @whatwouldmickeydo Vey @look-i-love-u Julia @juliakayyy Ri @tanktopgallavich thank youuu 🥰

Name: Myn

Age: 26

Where in the world are you? Sydneeeyy

The meaning behind your URL: the mash up of pretty words & when i began this blog i had aspirations of being a pretty vintage type aesthetic blog lmao

Your second favourite color: Periwinkle

Any pets? My doggie Roxy

Favourite season: Currently, I'll say it's autumn but it varies bc I barely have any distinction with the season living in Australia lol so I'm happy as long as it's sunny & not blistering heat with a light breeze haha

Last thing you read:

Got fics in rotation at the moment haha but I'm rereading

Let the bodies to the talkin' by the magnificent Jane @captainjowl

My Nine Lover by the sensational Anna @annatrow

Last of a Dying Breed by the terrific @wildxwired

For a book I've started Be not Afraid of Love by Mimi Zhu that is a collection writings about the author's journey of relearning to love again after experiencing a violent relationship

Last song you listened to:

I'm getting familiar with the new FOB album 💕

What are you wearing right now? Black cardigan, brown pleated mini dress with pastel green low heels

A hobby of yours: Paper quilling

Your comfort show or movie: Currently Shadows and Bone (gotta get that Six of Crows spin off lmao)

and finally, what are you up to today? Dinner at restaurant I planned to catch up eith my old workmates bc I didn't get to do a farewell dinner when I left in December 🥰

TAG GAME: FANDOM EDITION 💖

Your Name: Myn

Your Age: XXVI

Your First Fandom(s): I think Violet x Tate from American Horror Story

Your Current Fandom(s): Gallavich & Wesper (my book babies got adapted to tv y'all 🤧💕)

How did you first get into fandom? I think i got i more into the fandom culture in 2012 but i did take a break for like maybe 3 years bc I had no idea how the site worked or how to make friends haha. So i missed many of the iconic tumblr moments.

How long have you been engaging with fandom spaces? I remember reading animr fanfic since year six or year 7 so in 2008/2009 & I joined tumblr in 2012 as a more passive participant spam reblogging bc I had no idea how the site worked at first lol. Then I became a more active participant in the gallavich fandom in 2022 when I decided to post my first gallacrafts in feb 🥰

How often do you read fanfics? Every single day & every spare hour I can spare

Top 3 characters from your current fandom(s):

Mickey my beloved Milkovich, Ian sweetface Gallagher & Sandy darling Milkovich

Wylan Van Sunshine, Jesper hotshooter Fahey & Kazzle Dazzle Brekker

Have you ever written a fic for a fandom? if so, shout it out! Not yet, but I oh so plan to I got wips summaries coming out the wahzoo

Have you ever drawn fanart for a fandom? if so, shout it out! Yess i am so happy to have made some fanart for our lovely Macy's fanfic Your Message Has Been Received, Gallavich × Good Omens fanart for Gallacrafts & other art found in the tag #Myn's art

Share a personal headcanon that you feel very strongly about:

Ian gets the fucking Monica boobs tattoo fixed omfg it'll be a touching tribute to her not whatever the fuck that was. Also Mick gets Ian's name fixed too. They could do it together & then get tattoos that symbolise each other on their bods

You’re trying to convince a friend to get into your current fandom(s) with you. what episode, clip, or scene are you showing them? Ohh CLUB KISS CLUB KISS CLUB KISS

Shadow and Bone

Under carriage scene! Recognised his man by being on top of him. The muscles memory of it all 😏

And finally, what does fandom mean to you? Fandom gave me back my creative passion back. Something I thought I had lost & desperate wanted back but had no idea how, but by finding all of you beautiful, amazingly sweet & brilliant minds that came together out of the love our soft & sensitive husbands I found a safe place & a home where I can share what I create which is my love. So thank you all forever for being in my life 🥹

Also this Picrew too & this is basically my outfit for dinner just a lighter brown dress with plaid & minus the frog hat sadly 😔🐸

I'll tag these dearhearts if they wanna play @scarcrosseduntouched @andthatisnotfake @adakechi @skies-below @ lingy910y @imikhailotakeyouian @babygirlmickey @too-schoolforcool @gardenerian @creepkinginc @demontargaryen @chicanomick @suzy-queued @tomorrowillmissyou @ intotheblindinglight @lalazeewrites @tellmegoodbye @jomilky @darthvaders-wife @flamingbluepanda @crossmydna @depressedstressedlemonzest @gallavichgeek @gallavichsbitch @shameless-notashamed @callivich @sickness-health-all-that-shit @bravemikhailo @7x10mickey @sleepyfacetoughguy @suchagallabitch @iansw0rld @ deathclassic @grabmyboner @y0itsbri @grumpymickmilk

[leportraitducadavre]

Naruto re-read XXVIII

Chapters covered: 227 - 235 Twentysix Volume of the manga

Site used: https://manga4life.com/manga/Naruto (VIZ translation of the manga)

Disclaimer: This is intended as a list and simple observations of the topics that particularly interested me in the aforementioned chapters, in that sense, do not expect a linear -or totally deep- analysis.

Tumblr’s update doesn’t allow me to attach more than 10 pictures, therefore, all of them will be LINKED. Apologies.

335) Itachi told Sasuke that he should kill his best friend to obtain Mangekyou, and guess what Sasuke is trying to do? (here) also (here). Naruto wants to test this “best friend” claim of Sasuke with the aid of his Rasengan. The clash of their powers sent them both flying (x), Sasuke take this as a personal loss as Naruto “outgrew him” when he learned Rasengan (x, x) while Naruto saddens at the idea that Sasuke was being truthful on his claim (x, x).

336) Sasuke can easily use fire based jutsu when he’s twelve (he learned it when he was six!) x

337) Naruto remembers his first thoughts about Sasuke (and look, girls are cheering him on and he looks annoyed, x) and how glad he was that he found a boy with a similar background to him (x). “You were my Idol, and so… hearing that… I was never happier, with those words, for the first time… you acknowledged I was good.” (x) Can’t make it clearier here Sasuke’s relevance on Naruto’s life and the importance of him staying, of him acknowledging Naruto.

338) Kakashi returns from his mission and learns of Tsunade’s decision (x) and sends his summons after Naruto and Sasuke (x).

339) “I don’t want a thug like Orochimaru to ruin you…” (x). Sasuke pierced through Naruto’s shoulder and lung (x) and since Naruto is out of his own chakra (yellow), he uses Kurama’s (red) x. Great panel.

340) “Sasuke, Orochimaru can’t have you! I’m gonna bring you home safe if I have to break every bone in your body!!” The contradiction is hilarious.

341) Sasuke thinks of his family when fighting Naruto (x) and asks him what can he possibly understand when their experiences even as orphans are so vastly different. It’s an understandable point, as Naruto, while parentless, never knew what is like to loose his family (much less in such a traumatic way as Sasuke’s brother killed both his parents and tortured Sasuke), as he was just born when Kushina and Minato died (Minato even died out of his own volition, as he sacrificed himself to seal Kurama inside Naruto so Konoha wouldn’t loose the nine tails): “You were alone to begin with!! What can you know about me?! This pain is born from my family bonds! How could you ever know what it means to lose anything!!” (x).

Naruto’s response to this is also understandable from his standpoint (even if it’s meaningless for Sasuke’s own perspective), as he imagines Iruka as a father (x) and Sasuke as a brother (x) -SNS was found dead-. His consideration of Sasuke as “part of his family” (x) is intrinsic in Naruto’s characterization, yet for Sasuke, who had a family and who experienced loosing them, this notion isn’t well received, so he seeks to break this particular bond, never verbally reciprocating Naruto’s feelings (x). After this confession, Sasuke finally acknowledges Naruto as his equal (x, x), as he wears the hitae ate to fight him one last time.

342) An example on how the Sharingan sees movement (x).

343) Alright but Sasuke’s chakra control is superior? (x), he’s supressing Orochimaru’s curse, using his three tomoe Sharingan and fighting Naruto by using chakra nature transformation all at the same time. And yes, the Sharingan consumes a lot of chakra, that’s why Uchiha have immense reserves to compensate (x). Kurama states that Naruto by himself is weak and he completely depends on him to fight against Sasuke (x).

344) Sasuke won (x), yet Naruto was able to scratch his hitae ate despite Sasuke claiming he wouldn't be able to (x), this not only signifies Naruto’s growth and Sasuke’s complete deflection (as the band falls from Sasuke’s head), but also Naruto’s influence on Sasuke, who decides to fight in his own terms against Itachi (x, x).

345) Zetsu makes an appaearance after Sasuke’s deflection! (here). Sasuke was always seeked by Zetsu!

346) Nara’s clan continued their research and studied medicine creation (x, x)

347) Shizune, alongside other medics are able to perform surgery to regenerate Neji’s lost tissues x (organs, skin, etc) by using his hair as a medium (guess for DNA purposes) -here-. This technique is similar to mitochondrial regeneration but when used on other person besides the user, it takes so much chakra that it needs a group of medics (at least five) to perform the ritual (plus fuinjutsu).

348) Shikamaru sucks and Shikaku is no better than his son (x, x). What is wrong with this man? Chöji and Neji are dying in the next room and all he can do is scream at his child that he shouldn’t quit?! (but Fugaku is such a bad father for congratulating Itachi for his Sharingan!!) (x). 

(previous post) - (next post)

[burningexeter]

[PITCH]

The Night Chronicles

What is it —

A 2D animated horror anthology series that is not only connected by an Observer character who appears at the beginning and end of every episode but is also in the same veins as HBO's Tales From The Crypt and the Hub's R.L. Stine's The Haunting Hour: The Series where whether or not you actually think or find it scary, you still appreciate and give credit to it being actual horror cause it does indeed try to be full-on horror.

PREMISE:

Bringing high quality 2D animation to the genre of horror, The Night Chronicles tells a rather wide variety of dark, intense, twisted, macabre morality tales or just tales in general of absolute horror with a wide focus on kids, teenagers or adults depending on the episode or storyline. Unlike most horror anthologies though, every episode of each season will be a solid 2 hour long because they're treated more as mini-movies with their theatrics and scales.

EPISODE IDEAS:

Sophie, The Girl Who Cheats Death — The life of a shy, quiet, socially awkward and timid gorgeous blonde teen girl, Sophie Wilcox, is turned upside down when after getting caught trying to steal a prized fantasy uniform from her favorite series in an attempt to impress her peers, the shop owner who's revealed to be a mad witch places a curse on her as a sick punishment.... she's given Sophie the nine lives of a cat through a gland in its brain that causes it but to the expense of a kitten's life. However, things take even more of an unexpected turn of events when they both realize they could use this to their advantage and now Sophie is the star attraction of a carnival sideshow and has become a sensation. In doing so, it unfortunately leads Sophie down a neverending dark path as the fame changes her into leaving her friends behind, leaving her family behind and willing to do anything to stay on top. All of this culminates on the night of her final performance, having heartlessly disowned her former friend and her mother, when Sophie realizes all too late as she's buried alive deep underground.... that she may have miscounted how many lives she has.

Texas Body Count — Set in El Paso, Texas, a mysterious vigilante of imposing height arrives in the middle of the night and begins cleaning up the crime ridden streets in his own vicious and brutal ways as a gang war is threatening to break out. But throughout all of this, we see him get mortally wounded and even fucked up horribly and fatally yet there's not one single scratch or wound on him and if there is any, they instantaneously heal right up. He falls from high buildings in pursuit and just gets right back with no bloody mess and broken bones. It's then that this man's past is revealed to us, he was once a dangerous criminal wanted by the FBI that was killed in a robbery gone wrong but instead of letting him stay dead, the U.S. Government confiscated his body and used it for an undead and indestructible super soldier program, resurrecting him as one of them. However, what they didn't count on was that he would be the only one who as it turned slowly regained his memories and eventually escaped all on his own from the facility. Now in order to redeem himself in his own eyes from all of the bad he's done in his life, he's taken to cleaning up the streets riddled with crime and take revenge on the people who turned him into a monster.

Flesh & Bone — A twelve year old bullied boy, Jacob Avery, is regularly picked on by his classmates and older siblings and due to being blamed for the constant trouble the latters cause, he's one slip-up away from being sent to military school by his strict, military-wannabe father. The only person who seems to genuinely care about his well-being and is the only one he considers to be a true friend or the closest to any is his teacher, Ms. Parkerton, whose become aware of the severe bullying he's facing. It's then that Jacob starts hearing strange but otherworldly voices and howls coming from the woods that are calling to him and it turns out he's not the only one — Parkerton's begun hearing them too. Investigating all on her own, she ultimately discovers the terrifying source of it as it's of an old rotting flesh-craving wendigo that needs to rejuvenate and uses its call to lure its victims. However, Jacob soon realizes all of this is to his advantage when he discovers the horrible truth that his bullies had driven another student (a girl) to attempt suicide, his bullying older brother had raped and beat his cheerleader girlfriend and his father has been emotionally, verbally and physically abusing his mother and other siblings.... and the creature in the deep, dark woods will eat anything you put in front of it.

Notes/Trivias/Details:

• The most important one of all is aforementioned previously, an Observer character who serves as the "host" of the series will appear in every episode's beginnings and ends. He's called "The Hidden", an assumed young man who wears a blank, white burlap sack as a mask that's almost wrapped around his face instead of an ordinary mask with no eyeholes and he collects objects from strange and disturbing tales that he puts in his homeless guy-type of backpack so that no one ever forgets them. No one knows who he is or where he came from or why he does what he does or where he'll go next but all that's known is if you see him or worse, hear his whistle than you know something dark and scary is gonna happen. However with that said, he obviously doesn't mean no harm and is just a curious observer.

• Most episodes or rather almost every episode of the series have bad endings but there will definitely be a few genuinely good or bittersweet endings sprinkled throughout to balance it out to where the bad endings are more effective and the good endings feel more special and earned. With the bad endings, there's always a genuine moment of victory where the character or characters let's say break the age-old curse or defeats the demonic harlequin or escape the clutches of the Sandman whose held them captive in their sleep etc.... but then in classic horror anthology style, there's an extra thing or a twist that immediately happens that goes "Nope!". So there's an "Ah, relief!" for the viewer and character/characters then suddenly bam, nope, nuh-uh. But the good endings are the ones that do feel the most well earned where they go through hell and back but they actually grow and develop into better people who realize the errors of their ways.

• As you can see if you at least know, the three episodes in one way or another are influenced by some other media. "Sophie, The Girl Who Cheats Death" is influenced by the classic Tales From The Crypt episode "Dig That Cat... He's Real Gone" but does its own magical and tragic take on it to where it makes it its own to where you can view them both separately. "Texas Body Count" is directly based off a cancelled Tales From The Crypt movie called Redneck Frank aka Body Count written by Adam Rifkin and one of my favorite filmmakers Walter Hill and I felt like it was a strong enough story to tell in the medium of animation.... HORROR animation. As for "Flesh & Bone", it's a subversive take on a lot of the aspects of R.L. Stine stories, Stephen King stories and children's horror anthologies where the bad people are legit awful people such as useless idiot adults, psychopathic bullies and abusive parents and most of the time, they don't get called out on it or get what they deserve. Here, it's the exact opposite where they're all called out on what heinous people they are and get their horrifiyingly sick and gruesome comeuppances for being shitstains.

• Now for the animation style, that's easy. It'll be heavily inspired and modeled after the artwork of comic book artist Tony Moore especially with his Walking Dead issues and since it's animation, it will be more fluid and more expressive without going overboard.

• Last but not least, the show will have three seasons with about 8 or 10 episodes each and without ever pointing it out, it's shown that every episode of The Night Chronicles are set in the same universe as each other obviously with not just the Hidden appearing and connecting at the beginnings and ends but also there's call-backs, casual references and easter eggs such as let's say a fictional Big Kahuna Burger fast food restaurant is mentioned in one episode than the bag with the logo on it appears in another.

But there's a surprise reveal in the series finale:

After the Hidden walks away into a crowd as usual, the scene transitions into a warm home on Christmas Eve and we're introduced to a gorgeous blonde but quiet young woman whose name is revealed later on to be Andrea and is comforted by her mother and two younger sisters, Amy (23) and Sophia (8). Earlier this year, Andrea's fiancee Charlie was killed in combat serving overseas and a recovering from depression Andrea has recently been doing nothing but stare at a snowglobe that Charlie gave to her as a going-away present day in and day out. After a loving conversation with her youngest sister Sophia, a still silent Andrea decides to go over and celebrate Christmas with her family.

All the while two things are shown to us....

1). It's revealed that Andrea, Amy and Sophia are the Andrea, Amy and Sophia of Robert Kirkman's The Walking Dead comic series done in Tony Moore's style with Andrea having her hair all the way down as seen in the final second image below in the background.

& 2). Once Andrea and Sophia walk away from the toasty kitchen table, the camera slowly moves in on the snowglobe and as a direct throwback to the final moment of a little show.... called St. Elsewhere, the setting of the series finale to The Night Chronicles is in the goddamn snowglobe.... thus revealing that not only are every episode in the same universe but that the whole entire series is all in the mind of Andrea. It's been a figment this whole time.

Go figure.

There she is all the way on the right.

[thebadtimewolf]

jfc why are your takes on docrose so negative all the time???? stop pretending you like rose and/or docrose when your takes on them are so similar to anti takes. esp with this “tenrose bland” “romantic ten/donna” “hahaha ten became the tlv for donna and not for rose” “why do you guys ship rose with the doctor when she was so young” typa bs that i have seen you occasionally coming up with under ten/docrose content for quite sometime now. and stop pretending you love nine/rose as well cos’ no one is having it. just keep your stupid, brain-dead takes the fuck away from rose / docrose content. keep them to yourself. you’re not fooling anyone with your billie pfp. istg you’re so annoying

hey i thought you blocked me so why are you complaining? anyway.

brain dead ahaha! because what how many dw stories involving near death experiences or full death of one or someone else's brain. i know you may unintentionally stumble into that. But. Like. I find that story theme neat.

hey why is the one time rose got to kiss the alien dr as herself with full autonomy of her mind and body was CUT FROM THE AUDIOBOOK BUT WE GOT

SEVERAL SEVERAL STORIES WHERE A WHOLE ASS ENTITY GOT TO SMOOCH HIM WHILE USING HER BODY LIKE A HUMAN MEAT SUIT. WHY. WHY IS THAT.

like i dunno about you but i would like rose marion tyler the vampire-human to actually be the monsterfucker we were promised twice (NINE AND TEN) and we only got with river. who is doing all the heavy lifting by herself.

antis just dont like rose tyler. even when she breathes. even when she don't.

i want MONSTERFUCKER ROSE TYLER. FUCKER OF FATHER TIME HERSELF ROSE MARION TYLER. THE ONE THAT PEGS TIME'S CHAMPION (the alien, the titular question of the show) ROSE TYLER THAT WE WERE PROMISED. AND ROBBED.

i dont want him fucking a memory of a shop girl. i dont want fucking the tardis possessing said shop girl or lady cassandra possessing the shop girl or THE LITERAL BOMB THAT SLAUGHTERED HIS OWN KIND. i dont want fanfic. i dont want tentoo (i love you but no. um most of his screentime was in torchwood and with jack and martha. as a hand. no. congrats on the kid tho).

you settled for crumbs. dust. and the rot that you had to portion out to your starved near-carcass form as if it were just as a warm, filling feast fit for the cold like the ones in the paper images you salivate over. like river. like weirdly the tenth doctor adventures with donna (big finish seriously this anon has a good point why are you shipping donna and ten. i mean manifesting clearly works because ✨️60th✨️) forever out of reach. forever in the cycle of heteronormative monoamorous disappointment. lackluster strictly-audio sexual tension. yet that taunt of promise like ten dangling the key to martha, you too with eager hands of rotted crumb after 9 day-past-expiry-date crumb to the point where crumb has only become the delusion of a 8 course meal in your rose-colored eyes.

free yourself. break free. let dame rose marion tyler be the polyamorous monsterfucker she desired to be but moffat et al refused through mockery and misogyny and also abuse (? seriously why is every other ninerose comic is her killing nine and traumatizing jack like wtf bbc wtf im supposed to believe SHE loved HIM?? bbc u ok????)

just because you settled for dust happily so doesnt mean I HAVE TO.

tenrose audios are romantically bland tho. great story. I LOVE THE FRENCH ONE AND THE JUDOON ONE IM I LOVE WHEN THEY HAVE WITTY BANTER LIKE IN LOVE AND MONSTERS AND NEW EARTH AND SCHOOL REUNION. tho in the audios by big finish: they are romantically bland. i mean unless ur into emotionally deprived edging in such a severe degree that you too would nearly batman-jump jack harkness', adam mitchell's, and tentoo's bones or shoot the doctor on first sight with no heaitation until the next issue drops. then good for you! they are great platonically in the big finish audios but im waiting for a ninerose audio from big finish. im clinging.

but yeah, the other references you mentioned i've made - thats all big finish.

i stand by "why do you guys ship the doctor with someone so young" bit. because literally martha, donna, clara, river, amy, rory, jack, yaz (all the ones that are shipped with the dr that are written really scarily well) ARE ALL OLDER THAN ROSE WHEN SHE FIRST MET THE DOCTOR. SHES THE BABY AND THATS EVEN WORSE BECAUSE RIVER WAS SHOWN AS A LITERAL BABY ONSCREEN. YEARS AFTER THEM ALL AND SHES THE OLDER ONE?? BESIDES JACK???

HELL, MISSY; THE MASTER - PICK. A. FACE.

hell the entire whoniverse is canonically being told through the curator's recountence of the events WHICH MEANS THAT CHARACTER - THE DOCTOR CHARACTER FROM THE FAR FUTURE - SUMMED UP HIS RELATIONSHIP WITH ROSE TYLER LIKE WHAT WE AS THE AUDIENCE GET IN TERMS OF AUDIOS, BOOKS, AUDIOBOOKS, SHORT STORIES, LITTLE COMIC FUNNIES, LIL CHARACTER SUMMARY DESCRIPTIONS IN COMIC AND ON BACK OF MERCHANDISE LIKE THIS????

um. i dont know about you. but once you see it like that? in that grand scheme? yeah im going point it out. even the curator dont ship it. like do you not grasp that? i do! thats what devastated me! even the titular character dont ship it anymore because the alien moved on. the dr is known to us to break the 4th wall because "what would they be without their audience" - give us a little rose memory bit by bit. crumb by crumb. dust by dust.

but see im in too deep, im melting into the walls. just like docrose is but another indistinguishable pore along their skin, so is every take. or theory. i may have. And the dr's black now. So like every dr x poc companion ship, theyll be ignored or villified.

and you seem like the person that would ignore or villify 15 (or really any of them, anonymous that sounds like 2013ish era tumblr - remember when we didnt have ads here?)

but yeah. yall settled for dust, ya get dust. sorry ur still bitter on the doctorrose truth pill but yeah. she left a human to settle for a human even though being heavily promoted to romance essentially an eldritch bring that has snapped people's necks before the war just for fun or in spontaneous burst of emotion. again for fun.

sorry that im the only one complaining about a writing issue of a tv character.

ON MY ROLEPLAY BLOG OF MY ORIGINAL TIME LORD CHARACTER WITH A BILLIE PIPER FACECLAIM.

my takes will stop being negative when billie piper comes back as a doctor who villain (i want her as the new master. thats the exact villain i am referring to. dig that knife in. we all seen collateral and penny dreadful and her clown self in i hate suzie SHES GOT THE RANGE. LET HER BE THE MASTER PLEASE. THE CLOSEST WE GOT WAS THE MOMENT. AND SHE WAS JUST SHALKA!MASTER REDUX)

[detectivemaker]

More info about Michael and his siblings: shared powers

every Royal Chimera family has a way to make people permanently obedient to them, this gaggle of Eternal servants are usually referred to as the chimera's harem(though their relationship to their chimeric master or mistress doesn't always have to be sexual),  they're actually many bones to being a member of a chimera's halem, one such being you live as long as your master or mistress does, usually a chimera is Immortal until they partake in the act of creating children to take their place on the throne, after which they gain a lifespan of a non-climeric resident of the dimension, which is usually as long as a humans (many chimeric leaders rule for Generations until the instinctual desire to create errors finally becomes too much and they screw the nearest fertile creature they come into contact with)

another Boone is that you will keep your personality and sentience unless being commanded by your chimeric master or mistress, and if your chimeric lord has many forever servants you may be able to live Immortal but uncontrolled life,  that is unless they like to boss you around personally

the servant is marked with their master or Mistresses personal emblem, be it an item the Chimera is fond of or an illustration of one of the components making up the chimera(ex, an illustration of the teeth the Chimera has or a body part like a paw)

the Mark is given via Flesh on flesh contact either by the Chimera or for half bunny chimeras by other people in their Harem making contact

William: Williams Mark is caused both by skin contact by him and Harem servants. It takes the form of a snake bite on the body, he doesn't really have a preference for who he makes his b****

Michael: Michael's Mark is only spread by skin contact and takes the same shape as his father's, he has a preference for people with a knack for mind control, his harem consists of people like mad mod, spellbinder, and a nine mind control proficient future member Jim Gordon Jr(he hasn't been marked yet but Michael's training him in the ways of villainy, until he believes he's old and trained enough to be a useful servant), he doesn't intend to do anything sexual with his harem, cuz he already has a husband(Jeremy) who's also part of his harem but his embossed around as much as the others, he does like to make them feed him grapes though

Peter: Peter's Mark is spread by skin contact by him and because he's also half bird a special song he created for himself, his Mark takes a shape of a bear's tooth, he has a preference for sad people who honestly would prefer to be mindless thralls that continue to be sad sacks,  his Harem consists of people like Albert Wesker, Victor flies, James Craddock(James isn't a sad boy but Peter likes him because he's a Victorian and a spook, he's only able to be marked because Peter gave him a physical body using Arcane dark magic, James didn't know the body was a trap for him to be marked into a turtle servitude to Peter, not that he's able to rent his frustration at this trickery because now he's physically incapable of hurting Peter), he makes them listen to his decent but really depressing poetry  and sleep together in a big cuddle pile

Elizabeth: Elizabeth's Mark is spread via skin contact by her and people already in her harem, she prefers people who she thinks are fun such as clowns or comedians, she doesn't have anyone notable from the Rogues Gallery under her thrall,  but she does have a lot of circus performers, she keeps them in an eternal state of dance party, with occasional bathroom and food breaks, usually they dance themselves into unconsciousness and then start dancing again when they wake up

Philip(with an F): his Mark is spread by skin contact, and take the form of the outline of a fox's Dental system, he prefers buff dudes, his home consists of people like Bane, Killer Croc, and just a bunch of buff dudes, the days consist of mud wrestling, pirate stuff, and arm wrestling(completely nude obviously)

every Chimera Royal line also has familias, creatures created by a chimera's Pure Life Force

Michael: a set of Moon and Sun themed Jesters that wield any sort of weapon (mostly hammers or the occasional Acts) and usually spend their time amusing their Serpentine master with clown tricks

Peter: a giant golden ghost bear, that watches over its Master while he and his Harem sleep in the aforementioned cuddle pile

Elizabeth: an army of doll sized clowns that come in a lot of shapes and sizes, they have sharp teeth and usually weird very deadly tiny weapons

Philip(with an F): a sentient ship with fox legs that can levitate, and shoot beams of pure awesome(the way he describes it)

[deviationdivine]

Is It All An Act? (RK900 x reader)

TLDR: Things get interesting between you and Nines at the DPD...

Word Count: 1233

TW: Semi-Angst w/fluffy end, Language, Gavin Reed (being his verbally abusive dbag self)

“Thanks.” You call at his back, gaze fixing on the apex of his broad shoulders, before he walks off. Almost always seems to get away from you for one reason or another. This ongoing game of dodge the human is too much for your heart to take. Maybe if it was someone else doing it to you. Preferably the same problem he jumped in to eradicate.  Your voice halts him stiffly and somehow swallowing down those words is all you can do in answer. Why do you have to feel like this around him? Shrinking under his power is an addictive drug. He doesn't have to act intimidating it just happens! 

Or it's just in your head. Never sure but one thing is: he's a hurricane dragging you to the eye of the storm.

A tiny morsel that could be devoured by a mere sharp glance of steel gray; you steel yourself this time at his resolute swivel on heels of black shoes. 

He is completely donned in black, jeans, turtleneck sweater that compliments his white jacket trimmed in the same ebony. Only a blue armband added another bit of color to an otherwise monochrome aesthetic. 

The android’s eyes narrow. “You’re mistaken in your gratitude. I have no idea what you're referring to.”

Your breath catches. What is he talking about? He just told Gavin to screw off. Why is he acting like he didn’t? “But Gavin…”

“Detective Reed’s focus on work is what I accomplished. What else did you presume I meant?” 

An immediate sinking in your stomach makes you feel so stupid. Of course that’s all it is even if he looks angry at that asshole trying to mess with you but that’s your imagination isn’t it? There it is again in the form of his damn confusing, perfectly smooth face. 

Wait! Why are you complimenting him? Sure it's not actually verbalized but he doesn't get away with it because he's good looking. Obviously "good looking" isn't that great of an adjective to describe him. There are better ones. Right?  Debating over this just takes the cake! You're supposed to be pissed not daydreaming about Nines! 

“Nothing,” snapping to hide your embarrassment became overly dramatic. "Never mind. Next time don’t even bother coming near me, Nines!”  Red burns his temple causing a twisting glare to form his sharp chiseled features in a match to your stress. However his gaze softens the second you turn a back to him and it takes every thread of this perfectly advanced android not to betray his true feelings.  Nines stares at your retreating figure longer than is required and he nearly cracks. He may have if it were not for the pest he cannot cleanly scrub off the precinct's floors. “Yo! 900!” The aforementioned pest saunters over resentful to what happened before you decide to give more attention to a rusty bucket of bolts. Not bothering to use the droid's name, Gavin butts right back in without you as a witness. 

“Plastic asshole! I’m talking to you!”  Casually turning his head in direction of the detective offers cold stoicism. Impenetrable ice burns white hot in the android's gaze. “Next time you talk shit to me I’ll rip you apart. Right in front of Y/N!” Reed sneers as is typical. The only language he can speak angry for that too, another human hanging around one of these things.  “It would be wise to tread carefully, Detective Reed.” Nines' warning is coolly collected considering his rising disgust for this worthless human. "Your record for insubordination is a mile long. I believe Captain Fowler would find your harassment of co-workers curious. Wouldn’t you agree?” Gavin's teeth mash together. Easy to tell that threat finally held weight. Taking a quick stride closer in break room, he jabs a finger into the taller droid’s chest, right under that emblazoned RK900. Cyberlife saddling him with this prick! He's worse than Hank’s lap dog by a fucking mile!  “Listen up dipshit!” the detective snarls. “Think you’re hot shit cause you’re some upgraded Robocop? Well, you better stay out of my business. Including whatever I choose to do with the new meat on the block. Got me? Or I’ll do what I should’ve done to your goofy ass twin and put a bullet through your skull.” A smile upturns Gavin’s lips, laughing a little after threatening his partner. 

To this day it boggles everyone's mind how he still has a job let alone is able to outwardly threaten others. “I’ll make sure to have a bigger impression next time on the cupcake. You won’t be around all the time.” Staring down at the shorter human male with equal hostility left the detective android withering in dissatisfaction for his focus of anger. This is a waste of time when he is required to accomplish desk work. That did not stop the RK900 model’s hand from snagging onto the scruff of Reed’s jacket.  “You sonuva…!”  “Touch Y/N and I will break every bone in your body.” The android’s warning is a quiet storm allowing the gale of his power seep slowly into that thick unintelligible skull of Reed's. Hoisting him without an ounce of effort should be a mutual understanding to his advanced strength. “Considering I know the placement of each of the 206 bones in the adult human body, it will be an efficient process.”  Shoving Gavin backwards forces him to stumble. A tiny smile drew up the android’s mouth. “Work is at hand, Detective Reed. If you would excuse me I will return to important matters and leave you to your trash heap of a desk.”  Gavin reached down at his hip. Resting a hand against holster, he froze.  “Reed! In my office! NOW!”  Dropping his hand at Fowler’s order left him fuming. Peering up from a cart of evidence files is just your luck to witness the childish stomp of Reed heading for the office. Obvious pissy attitude is obvious on a daily basis and you rolled eyes not really caring what he was doing. He's such a.... 

Your clear dislike of Gavin zaps immediately from mind when making eye contact with Nines. Sitting at his desk it's hard to miss him. Really who misses a tall beautiful android with a jaw line fit for carving the next statue of David? Not that you sit around making these comparisons all the time! It's not like you're in love with him or anything. 

A nervous rumble in your stomach is a shitty sign. You can't be! This isn't supposed to happen right after he pisses you off. Oh. Um, he's still watching and apparently can read the spike in your heart rate that far away. You flush at the tiny smile on his lips which seems like an illusion. 

Wow. You didn't know Nines could do that! 

Never mind how smug he's starting to look. After how badly he dismisses you and makes you feel like an idiot this is what he does? How confusing is he!? 

Part of you wonders if it is all an act but focusing is out the window. You disappear with carted catalogue for evidence room to avoid his face and whatever else. 

Little do you realize that Nines watches the entire time it takes for you to no longer be in his visual. Nor do you know how interesting things are about to get between you two.

[cadkeyper]

Hi my name is Ark and I’m armed with pure delusion, today I’ll be talking about how I could/ would beat every single classic Creepypasta. RIP to the victims, but I’m built different. I barely ever leave my room, I did martial arts training years ago, and I am fueled by nothing other than the McDonalds sprite that runs through my veins. So I think I’m pretty qualified. For the sake of this, I will not allow any of them to be armed with their weapons, this is fist to fist combat.

Nina the killer

In her original story, she’s literally just a nine year old with a knife. I would grab her by the ponytail, and swing her around until she reached a high enough velocity for me to let go and have her hurtle directly into the sun

Ben Drowned / Sonic EXE

I put these two together because the strategy for beating them is pretty much the same. First of all, I’m not a nerd. I would never play sonic or zelda, but let’s say for the sake of debate, I do. After the first time weird things happen, I WOULD OBVIOUSLY STOP PLAYING THE GAME. I turn off my tv, break it, set it on fire, and then I would take the game cartridge, put it in a blender until it was a fine purée, and then drink it to absorb their power

Smile dog

I literally never read my emails.

Jeff the killer

If we’re talking the original, I would whoop his ass so fast it’s not even funny. Once again, he’s like a 13 year old with a knife and a Joker complex. I would slap the shit out of him so hard that it knocks the smile off his face.

Ticci Toby

He can’t feel pain so I would have a harder time getting him down. However, he does have Tourette's, and as somebody who also has it, I would just tic which would trigger him to tic, (this happens from personal experience it’s agony) and then I would get him. (This may also result in me ticcing back, and we would reach a stalemate)

Eyeless Jack

I literally never sleep, so if he wants to sneak into my room at night to take my kidneys, good luck. If he got within a foot of me, I would jab my fingers into his eye sockets and make him double blind. As he stumbles around with double no eyes, I lunge at him and I take HIS kidneys. See how he likes it.

Laughing Jack

I could beat him as a child. If he tried to pretend to be my imaginary friend, I’d completely exhaust him. I was a wolf kid. I had a reputation for how hard I could kick people in the shin. I am not defending myself from him, he’s defending himself from me. I would grab his nose and twist until it made a 🌀shape

The Rake

If he runs at me, I will simply kick him in the face so hard that all of his teeth fall out. Before the battle, I would rub my entire body in the most foul tasting, disgusting thing you could ever imagine. Like ghost peppers, or limes, or bananas. So when he goes to bite me, he recoils and is so disgusted he retreats, allowing me to win by default

Slenderman

If I’m not mistaken, he likes to stalk his victims before finishing them off to drive them bonkers. He tries this with me, that’s his first mistake. Every time I see him, I will also set off an extremely loud obnoxious noise, like an airhorn, or any song on my kazoo. He thinks he’s coming to stand outside my window and jumpscare me, WRONG he’s getting his eardrums blown out with every Nicki Minaj song ever released. In addition to that, I will go out of my way to constantly bully him at every turn. Instead of drawing cryptic symbols on my walls, I’m writing stuff like “SLENDERMAN IS SO TALL HIS PRONOUNS ARE FE/FI/FO FUM”. He will eventually grow so frustrated/ confused at my constant harassment that he decides to leave me alone and that I am not worth the effort. If he sends his proxies after me, we’ve already established that I could absolutely dominate each and every single bone in their bodies This has been my personal guide to beating most of the classic Creepypasta’s and I do not take constructive criticism <3