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douxie-casperan · 4 years ago

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Rise of the Titans and the assassination Hisirdoux Casperan’s character development

I’ve been ranting so much since Wednesday morning that I finally condensed by thoughts of WHY this one subject keeps setting me off namely the utterly diabolical way they handled Douxie and Archie’s relationship in Rise of the Titans and how it wasn’t just enough to hit him with the nerf bat.

Please note I’m at the point where I literally cannot tell the difference between Aaron headcanons, Teny headcanons and my own they are all mixed together in the blender that does funky things. I also apologise for typo/weird wording it’s half 1 in the morning and I’d rather sleep than edit.

If asked to sum up Hisirdoux Casperan there are certainly several things that come to mind:

Sees the value in people as a whole and will find do anything if there is a chance of help someone out

Prefers tactics that disable/banish rather than kill an enemy yet willing and able to pull the trigger if circumstances become forced

While not academically inclined he is very capable of thinking on his feet and outside the box calling back to his time on the streets where a split-second decision making is the difference between being caught and not

Terrible at planning he’ll be in there figuring it out as he goes along which is what makes the previous point so vital to literally how he goes through life

A natural charmer that would let him talk his way out of trouble 9/10 providing a perfect cover for his distrustful nature and reluctance to be touched by random people

Very down to earth, humble and never one to brag unless outright sassing someone

Will bang out some hot tunes at the drop of a hat, his love of music has never wavered once since he caught the bug despite instrument hopping ironically becoming a jack of all trades much like his magic style

The earliest memories he can recall are him as a young boy lost in the woods where he was for an unknown amount of time before his soon to be familiar finds him amongst the roots covered in dirt and drying tears, there is nothing before that. Unbeknownst to him is the colour of his magic matches the blue of a lost mother’s eyes and the song that haunts his nightmares as much as fire could well be hers though there is no way to be sure. From that moment on Archibald, shortened to Archie, would become his entire world and their friendship only becoming closer during the years they prowled Camelot together trying to keep themselves in one piece until the fateful day Douxie tricks the wrong person leading him straight into the path of the famous wizard Merlin Ambrosius.

It's no real secret that Merlin is a very closed off person who keeps his emotions as well guarded as his secrets, prefers the style of negative reinforcement over positive encouragement and is a very strict perfectionist in his. At this point in his life he can be very easily described as a disaster that is genuinely doing his best with every little mistake held of his head and his future self when brought back to that time period is belittled by Lancelot (Errand boy) and Arthur (Boy) too meaning it’s hardly a wonder his confidence was very fragile revelling in the times where he could do things without being told off for it. With Morgana largely ignoring him too (Though personally I like to think as he got older she’d occasionally take an interest until the blistering arguments with their master started to talk over daily life) a certain disguised dragon would have remained a lifeline and give that physical affection he craved much like being told he’d done well never seemed able to earn.

With Killahead he’d lose that home and family he made leaving just the two of them behind struggling to figure out their place in the world that had abandoned them.

There wouldn’t have been the words for it back then but the way he had been treated prior was outright abusive instilling very bad habits into Douxie yet by irony he was always willing to give people the benefit of the doubt and help those in trouble without thinking earning a reputation as the Shepard of Fire. He refused to become like him seeking to be better, perhaps not as a wizard (Even though he was learning new charms and spells along the way) but certainly as a person. Despite everything he suffers through or witnesses in the intervening years, the loss of friends and kindling of far newer ones he never loses his good heart

That said is it any wonder that after rightfully sassing Merlin for resurfacing, ignoring his existence despite being in the same town and only visiting him to run a finding errand that all the confidence he’d managed to build completely from scratch after Camelot wavered causing him to fall back solely into trying impressing his old Master who was acting like his humble apprentice must have coasted the past few centuries who himself fell back into old habits of belittling? It’s only when Merlin started to truly listen and acknowledge that this was not the same Moppet he once knew after Excalibur was fixed that their relationship finally started to become more like equals. After the defeat of Janus the changeling that broke into the castle he touched Douxie’s shoulder with a genuine smile and for a second he simply didn’t know what to do because the old man never did this before his brain kicked into gear and realised he’d finally earned that one thing he’d been so desperate for his entire life: That in Merlin’s eyes he could be more than a failure who only caused problems for the closest thing to a father figure he’d ever had, never solved them.

A staff will be earned, history would be set back on trap by banishing Morgana tag teaming with Archie because they know one another inside and out, as promised he’d get the kids back to the present but soon after things would go badly wrong. They’d lose Jim and because of his very nature he’d make a gamble to try and get him back because that life is worth trying for just for in a moment of surprising selflessness Merlin would be sacrificed to save him. The only constant in his life apart from Archie would apologise, openly express pride and how the greatest thing he’d ever done was saving this orphan, call him son for the first and final time before turning into ash in his arms. There would be no time to grieve for things will barrel into the crescendo of Douxie sacrificing his own life to buy everyone time to escape because if they did that everything he’d ever done would be worth it with one last whispered goodbye.

(Zoe sees him fall, so does Archie – His heart would break if he was conscious just like theirs does when his body crumples into the ground)

On the very fringes of the Light Realm he is gifted one more conversation with Merlin in a truly heart-breaking sequence (THANKS TENY) where they can just talk without any fear of consequence or politics and just be completely honest. Douxie is allowed to stand equal to Merlin, to have the hug he’d needed since he was a child and be allowed to simply let go of every pretense and cry his heart out because this can never happen again. He’s allowed to say goodbye to both his master and Morgana who had both shaped so very much of his life but like the painting he’d always remained firmly in the long shadows of until that moment.

When Hisirdoux Casperan finally leaves Wizards if we just accidently deliberately put the shawarma back in along with checking in with Zoe before departure, it is with having learned to live during his wandering years but this is the point of true freedom because he can finally escape into his own light with Archie by his side to keep Nari out of the hands of those that would see the world harmed. It won’t be easy but it feels possible somehow even with the knowledge everything is simply running on borrowed time.

Then Rise of the Titans happens.

At first everything is genuinely fine! No more running, they engineer a solution shut the Order’s magic down to make them a lot less dangerous and potentially at least incapacitate them until they can come up with a longer-term solution but all the best laid plans and all that. Douxie’s quick thinking stops the train from crushing any of the people below and it’s a very him style move to switch places with Nari to stall for time because for some reason the plot disabled Claire from portaling her or any of the threatened people/heroes to safety. He openly sasses the Order despite knowing the consequences will be bad for him because once again he’s managed to trick them, buy time that at the other end isn’t even slightly utilised until he’s forced back into his own body in excruciating pain. Archie immediately mobs him with comfort just as he has done every single time the wizard is distressed or collapsed with exhaustion without thinking because that is what their bond is like, incredibly close and far more than the Soul Bond mark that connects them together. They’re very alike in that regard, you have to earn the right to touch while equally knowing exactly what form the other needs the most in that precise moment in a way very few others could.

Bar the moment of figuring out that an illusion is in place to hide where the Order is opening the Genesis Seals and the brief insistence on reconnecting with Nari somehow Douxie manages to forget everything that makes him who he is after this point choosing to stand in the background being very no thoughts head empty or can only use the most basic spells of his youthful days not the seasoned master wizard he should be. Nomura is treated like an innocent slip rather than an outright death he did absolutely nothing to prevent (Not to mention the stupid daytime thing) nor seems to care particularly about afterwards yet with Nari’s he’s allowed to openly grieve in a gorgeously animated visual showing how he’d failed to keep her safe despite everything. He did nothing to help here either mind despite allowing himself to be tortured in the same piece of media to keep her safe, just watched another loss happen right in front of his eyes in his conga long line of them.

Then there’s Archie, oh god then there was Archie.

The dragon who even here he’d been shown to have an incredibly close bond with him decides you know what sod that tell him goodbye I’m going to make a joke about having a kingdom now dad and me are trapped in here forever. Douxie on his part looked sad for all of three seconds saying that he hoped he’s happy like it's a pet that wandered out into the world one day and never came back instead of a lifelong companion that has been there for as long as he can remember. He was now completely alone in the world since Zoe was also written out entirely and because every bit of his background had been forgotten about it somehow meant nothing. This wasn’t “I know you miss him, I know you need to grieve but you are running out of time” moment like things had been with Charlie, this was “cool shapeshifting dragon cat is now stuck in a plot hole that’s a shame” with zero pay off or any of the genuine reaction that should have been there or hell even trying to Ohana him back that very second because it never should have happened in the first place. Then even this wasn’t enough somehow, they managed to de-power Douxie even further into uselessness bar the (Admittedly nifty!) sticky feet stunt, the one who fought Skrael and Bellroc to a stalemate was shunted aside with barely a thought and his head would somehow get even emptier.

The one person who knew the danger of time magic the most stood by and said nothing.

The one person who would suffer the most by a reset because the lynchpin to his issues would be asleep if you got it wrong and should have drilled it into Jim’s head the best time to aim for stood by and said nothing.

The one person who had just suffered the loss of his familiar, best friend and only family along with the almost sister like Nari stood by and said nothing.

Then to add further insult to injury the caption when Douxie and Archie is shown says Some go their entire lives living an existence of quiet desperation because every drop of his character growth, his ability to finally start addressing his trauma instilled back in the 12th century, the staff he longed for was instead openly mocked by going “Aww he got his cat friend back how nice!” Everything he’d rightfully earned and had now would be unable to progress until certain criteria are met because it hinges entirely on the Trollhunter going to Merlin’s tomb and there’s only so much your support network of two (One if she’s written out) can do, the root of the majority of his issues all stem from one man.

And this folks is why I’ve been going on multiple rants about Douxie in particular, everyone was hit with the out of character bat to some degree in this film but when they came for him they didn’t just stop after they took his legs out because they wanted him to suffer from something he’s never had any control over to begin with all over again. Abuse survivors deserve better, these characters deserve better and we as viewers deserve far far better writing than we were forced to endure.

#Ooc - Behind the curtains #Rise of the Titans #Rise of the Titans spoilers #RotT Spoilers #RoT spoilers #Wizards #Tales of Arcadia #ToAWizards #Hisirdoux Casperan #Douxie Casperan

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allegedlyanandroid · 4 years ago

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Hello! For the fic prompts! Can I got a 900Gavin A/B/O fic about alpha!RK900 who try to bite Omega!Gavin scent glands when they first meet because RK900 didn't have a social program but have only a primal instinct program? Could pls keep it fluff and light,plssss? 🥺 I read too many dark fics but if it couldn't then it ok too.

I took some artistic liberties with this one and made Gavin a bounty hunter for the sole purpose that I couldn’t figure out a good reason as to why Fowler would assign them as partners if Nines tried to take a bite out of him on first meeting. I mean... who can blame him though? Gavin is a snacc. Did I think to much into it? Yes, definitely. Either way, I hope you like it @therainnight, fingers crossed that it has an okay ratio of fluff in it <3

There’s nothing to suggest he’s being followed, no out-of-the-ordinary sounds, no footsteps, no nothing. Doesn’t matter. Gavin has always had good instincts and right now they’re telling him that something, or someone, is stalking him. Glancing as far behind himself as he can through his peripheral vision means he catches the glimpse of movement before it’s too late. Gavin whirls around just as he’s pushed backwards against a tree and the impact is enough to knock the breath from his lungs.

A forearm keeps him pressed against it while he stares uncomprehending at razor-sharp teeth set in a half-finished face.

‘Oh, hell no,’ is what comes to mind and it’s through pure instinctive reaction that he manages to get a hand up between them and shove it as far into the android’s mouth as he can ‒ quick enough to keep it from sinking its teeth into the glands in his neck. He’d rather lose a few fingers than be bond-mated on first meeting like some omega bride in the twentieth century. His other hand is still free so he ignores the glowing eyes peering into his soul, and the curious gnawing over the digits he unceremoniously shoved in the android’s mouth, in order to find the glowing circle in the middle of its chest. Digging his fingers into the minute crack the thirium pump regulator slides into his hand with a muted hiss, strangely warm and disgustingly slick with thirium.

The android yelps, scrambling backwards, and releases Gavin’s saliva-slick hand as it falls down in a crouch. It stares desperately at the cylinder held aloft in the air. It jolts forward when Gavin squeezes it between claw-tipped fingers until it threatens to bend under the strain and render it useless, eyes are wide and sorrowful, the glow in them sapping away with every passing second. Gavin nearly feels bad for it.

“Why are you following me?!” he demands to know, pushing the thought aside.

It doesn’t answer, shifting in place as it continues to stare at him.

“You can have this back if you tell me.” Half-truths. The android merely curls in on itself, pressing the palm of its hand against its own throat. It mouths something but the dark plating making up the lower part of his face makes it impossible to see what. Then it clicks. “You can’t talk?”

It nods.

Maybe it shouldn’t have come as a surprise when the droid looks anything but finished. Gavin can see parts of its biocomponents pulsing a subdued red behind clear panelling mixed in with sleek metal in a colour so dark it’s nearly void. The upper part of its face has synthskin, including his upper lip, but everything below is made of the same black material. Its ears nearly blend into the raven hair on its head and Gavin can’t find it in himself to be angry at it. Clearly, it’s a lost ‒ and potentially broken ‒ thing. Not unlike himself.

Gavin tosses the regulator in the android’s direction and marches on. He has a job to do after all and tracking only gets harder the longer he dawdles. Almost immediately the feeling returns and he groans out loud. The time-limit forces him to keep moving regardless of his silent companion. His target already has a two-day head start and the moment Weiss crosses the border into Canada Gavin can’t do jack-shit to him. He jerks the rifle higher on his back and continues to follow the scent of old blood laid into the earth. Evidently the bastard isn’t worried about being followed so much as setting a fast pace despite his injuries.

When night begins to fall, the shadows lengthening around him, Gavin reluctantly sets up camp. There’s maybe another two days before he catches up and seeing as they’re about a three day’s march from the border he’ll be cutting it close.

The area he finds is partly protected from the elements and close to a stream of trickling water. “I know you’re there,” he calls while rummaging around his supplies to find kindling. There’s a rustle of the underbrush to his left and the hulking mess of an android appears at the edge of camp. It looks hesitant, almost skittish, where it stands. It makes little sense given how bulky the ‘droid is and how aggressive it behaved earlier. Clearly it should be able to hold its own going off design alone. Gavin returns to ignoring it after a last wary glance and swears beneath his breath when the wood won’t catch flame.

The android shifts into his line of sight and approaches slowly, like one would a vicious or scared animal. It stops again and gestures to the attempted fire, tilting its head in question. Gavin sighs. “Sure, why not,” he shrugs. “‘s not like you can do a worse job.”

Despite the less-than-friendly tone, the android visibly perks up. Gavin watches as it rearranges the collected wood with meticulous focus before stripping one of its fingers of plating and snapping off a few wires. The resulting electric sparks is what it uses to light the kindling. The fire slowly spreads over bark and wood until they’re engulfed by flames, cracking and popping in the still evening. Satisfied, it prods at the still-sparking wires with a finger, completely transfixed by the reds, oranges and yellows found in the flickering fire.

Gavin offers a crooked grin in thanks. “Wonders of technology. You need any help with that?”

The android shakes its head no, poking the wires back in place, before clicking the plating back where it belongs. It looks to be smiling slightly as it reluctantly gathers itself up to leave.

Gavin stops it with a hand on its wrist.

“You can stay.”

It’s basic human decency Gavin tells himself when he watches the android shuffle closer to the flames, hands outstretched as if to absorb its warmth. With the light’s help he can just about make out the serial-number etched into its chassis right over its thirium pump. “RK900, “ Gavin reads, “-that’s not one I’ve heard of before.” The droid turns to him and holds up one finger, turning it afterwards to point at himself. Gavin hums. “One of a kind then. I can relate to that.”

The android slides closer, looking up with a soft “go-on” like gesture that Gavin is helpless to resist.

He wakes up the next morning feeling as if everything has tilted slightly to the left and groggily gets himself ready for the day, rolling up his sleeping bag and kicking dirt over the fire’s embers, while RK stares at him with intrigue. They begin the trek not long after with Gavin wolfing down a protein bar in lieu of breakfast. RK frowns at him then, his brows furrowed severely, but it quickly turns to confusion when Gavin sticks his tongue out at him and picks up the pace. While they walk, he contemplates when in the previous evening he began referring to RK as “he” instead of “it”. There’s no doubt that the android is alive, for lack of a better term, animated and interested and latching onto every word of Gavin’s tales the way he used to do himself when he was younger and less jaded.

Gavin, lost in thought, doesn’t notice RK disappearing for a moment. His return is difficult to miss though since he presents him with a perfectly symmetrical trientalis europaea, its yellow core surrounded by seven white petals. A stark contrast to the black hands cupping it; delicate fragility resting in palms simply not made for such sweet blossoms. There’s excitement radiating off him, nestled in his glowing eyes, which doubles when Gavin asks: “Is that for me?”

The nod is quick as RK moves his hands an inch closer. Gavin takes it with a soft “thank you.” He looks at it for a moment longer and then takes his notebook from his inner pocket to place the flower there, snapping it shut and tying it with twine to really press flat. RK preens, turning his gaze bashfully to the forest floor, while Gavin pretends his cheeks aren’t flushed red.

When at last it comes time to make camp Gavin is pleased with their progress. “The scent of blood is more prominent. Even if he’s on scent blockers I can pick up smoke from the campfire. We’re getting close.”

His statement prompts an explanation about the reason he’s in the woods to begin with. The concern he shows upon hearing of Gavin’s chosen field of work is quickly dismissed with a: “I managed to bring you down, didn’t I?” which RK’s lips twitch at. He settles even closer to Gavin today, surreptitiously scenting the air between them, until Gavin asks him about it point-blank.

‘You smell nice,’ RK writes out on a torn-out page in Gavin’s book. ‘It’s what drew me in.’

“I smell like fuck-all while on blockers.”

‘Leather, coffee, something sweet like honey.’ It takes a moment before RK writes the next part: ‘You’re an omega.’

Gavin is still reeling when the last part of the sentence hits him like a punch to the gut. He takes his blockers near religiously, there’s no way RK should be able to‒

...but then the air around him floods with hints of metal and ozone. He’d smelled it before, when RK first came at him, but it had been absent since.

An alpha.

As soon as the scent envelops him it lessens again. ‘It’s hard to concentrate, to control myself, unless I turn that part of my programming off. Although, it means I have to get in close to smell anything.’

Gavin doesn’t know what to say to that, to any of it, so he remains quiet even if he doesn’t move away to allow RK to take in his scent as he pleases.

The weather dips dangerously in the late night and Gavin wakes up shivering. “Fuck, dammit,” he curses. Maybe he should keep moving. Catch the fucker earlier and finally get away from here. ‘Terrible plan,’ Gavin reminds himself as another shiver wracks through his body. Weiss is an alpha and as much as Gavin loathes to admit it, they are stronger than him. His strength is his speed and precision, dancing out of people’s range until they tire, or using his omega status as a lure. The last one wouldn’t help him here and the former only works if he’s well-rested and alert.

RK is just now stoking the fire. It helps, a bit, but Gavin is still feeling numb; fingers and toes hurting when he attempts to stretch them out.

“Hey, RK. C’mere a second.”

The android obeys without question, crouching down next to where Gavin has struggled into a sitting position. He places his hands against RK’s bare chassis to test his theory. There’s a low thrumming vibration beneath his fingertips and the metal is surprisingly warm to the touch. RK moves to clasp Gavin’s hands between his own and slowly rubs over them, keeping them covered while his chassis suddenly generates more heat.

Once they’re an appropriate temperature again RK moves to sit behind him. Gavin watches him, a question etched clearly into his eyes, but RK merely lays down, waiting and watching. Glacially slowly Gavin joins him on the ground and the android smiles shyly before turning his back on him. Gavin mirrors him once more, shuffling until they lie back to back, and both the warmth from the fire and RK enveloping him is a comfort he didn’t know he needed.

The morning after is filled with glances out of the corner of his eye, with the urge to hold RK’s stupid hand, and he wonders when he became so starved of touch, of someone showing the slightest bit of kindness to him, that two days are enough to want to pull RK down by his hair and kiss him senseless.

They catch up to Weiss a short few hours later and Gavin presses the rifle into RK’s hands as a safety precaution before throwing himself into the fight. It’s quick and dirty with Gavin using every trick in the book to gain the upper hand while dancing around the wildly thrown punches. Grinning through the rush of adrenaline Gavin eventually stops toying with the man and brings him down with a few precise kicks and punches. He locks handcuffs around Weiss’ wrists, arms behind his back, while Weiss shouts abuse and obscenities at him. Gavin pays it no mind, explaining with a sick sense of satisfaction that the cuffs aren’t coming off without a DNA signature from his friend and that running would mean a slow death for him left out in the elements. “Truth be told, I don’t care whether or not you’re still breathing when I bring in proof of your capture. I can afford to lose the difference in compensation.”

Weiss falls limp at that while Gavin slowly rises to his feet. When he looks up, remembering they’re not alone, RK is standing still as a statue. He stalks over, bearing a striking resemblance to a predator approaching prey, and presses right up into Gavin’s personal space to shove his nose into his neck and inhale. A rumbling noise is caught in his throat, a growl that has Gavin’s knees weakening slightly, as sharp teeth graze over his throat. Ozone and metal. Wicked claws not present before gripping his jaw tightly.

He reaches up to stick his thumb in RK’s mouth, pressing it down on his tongue with narrowed eyes. RK pricks it with his fangs and laps at the drop of blood with his tongue, all the while keeping eye contact. It makes Gavin squirm, just a little bit, and he’s thankful the heat suppressors keep him from getting wet or the walk back would be uncomfortable to say the least. With a graze of his teeth, RK loosens his hold and puts distance between them again, eyes dark and wanting.

Weiss tries to run about two thirds of the way back and Gavin sighs as he readies his reclaimed rifle. Turns out he never has to use it. RK’s head snaps up and he tracks the man’s erratic patterns for a second before giving chase. He’s practically a blur of movement and Gavin watches, transfixed, as he takes Weiss down in one graceful leap. The lack of being able to catch himself smacks Weiss’ head hard against the ground. RK doesn’t seem to care about the man’s dazed state as he drags him back to Gavin, his claws buried deep into the sides of his neck, hand cupping the back of it. He tosses him at Gavin’s feet and offers a razor-sharp grin, nudging the guy with the tip of his foot.

Gavin gives him a light kiss on the cheek for his help and can almost imagine the tail wagging behind him with excitement at the gesture of affection.

What doesn’t fit the crumbling infrastructure in the slums or the dingy office he rents for cheap is the well-kept lady in smart business attire standing next to him behind the desk.

Maurice Gacy, the guy they usually make business with, is a weasel of a man. His thin greasy hair and slimy smile fits his role of lowlife criminal perfectly. His side hustle of collecting bounties for the Guild is the only reason Gavin interacts with him, puts up with his leering and comments. Trust only extends so far between them but... all in all he gives the money owed and he keeps his mouth shut when talking to the cops which is all that really matters in the end.

RK tenses behind him, something Gavin senses in the clicking of his machinery, and Gavin frowns at the broad smile beginning to stretch over her face. “You found it,” she says lightly, walking in a measured pace while Gacy warily trails behind, heels clicking across the linoleum.

Gavin takes a step forward to meet her and bares his teeth in a snarl. “Back off.”

She nods sagely, uncaring for his hostility and lengthening canines. “Yes, of course. Money first. Always the same with you lot, isn’t it?” The node she produces from her fitted jacket flares to life and he stares, heart stuttering in his chest, at the very familiar face displayed.

WANTED

RK900, MODEL NUMBER #313 248 317 - 87

REWARD: 1.000.000 $

HIGHLY VOLATILE AND EXTREMELY DANGEROUS

PREFERABLE IF IT REMAINS OPERABLE UPON COLLECTION

Metal and ozone laced with a bitter tinge resembling fear.

A flower stuck between yellowing pages.

Viscous saliva and thirium dripping from his hands.

Whatever RK’s crime can Gavin truly bear to have more of his blood on them when it’s sure to stain them always? The thought is on the forefront of his mind when RK walks up to stand by his side, resignation already home in eyes and slowly sapping them of light, and in that moment, Gavin has his answer.

His arm shoots out to block RK from moving further and slowly raises his chin in defiance. “No.”

“Excuse me?”

They’re all staring at him, RK with a mix of wonder and trepidation, so Gavin sets his jaw and forces calm into his voice. “You can fuck right off with that shit, he’s not the reason we’re here.” With a nod to Tina, she steps forward and shoves Weiss at Gacy. Thankfully he’s too much of a coward to pick a fight and transfers the agreed upon money to her before whisking Weiss away towards the back. Tina raises an eyebrow at him, bumping their shoulder together lightly as she walks out the door, and Gavin has never been as thankful to have her as he is right now when the unmistakable sound of an engine rumbling to life filters in from outside. “Come on, we’re done here.”

It’ll start a shitstorm, that’s for damn sure, but with RK leaning forward to peer out the front window as they tear through the streets, Gavin can’t find it in himself to care.

#allegedly answering asks #dbh gavin #gavin reed #dbh rk900 #rk900 #reed900 #dbh #detroit: become human #detroit become human #mini fic #my writing #is nines courting gavin in this to the best of his abilities?#yes absolutely #does gavin know?#debatable #he's both thick and thicc if you know what i mean

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thiswasinevitableid · 4 years ago

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5, sternclay, nsfw? 👀

Here you go

5: Incubus

“Buddy, I promise, you can come in and cuddle in like, ten minutes.”

The whining at the bedroom door stops, replaced by a big, wet nose, just visible through the crack at the bottom of the door as it snuffles back and forth. It’s very cute, but Barclay is not about to let his dog deprive him of a much needed jerk-off session.

He’s ready for bed, so it’s just a matter of pulling down his pajama pants and getting to it. Closing his eyes, he pictures that cute customer who gets black coffee and a croissant every morning at the Lodge. It takes a few tries to find a fantasy he likes, the one about the back counter and the new uses for a spatula.

Outside the door, Sass starts whining again, scratching frantically at the wood. There goes his deposit.

God, he can practically feel the guy up against him.

The bed dips on the outside of each thigh. Opening his eyes reveals a man wearing nothing but deep blue boxer briefs and a smile.

“Holyshitwhatthefuck?” He clambers back, banging his head on the wall in his hurry to sit up, “what the fuck man, how’d you get in here?”

“A portal between dimensions. That’s the, um, simplified version. But don’t worry, I’m not here to hurt you. The opposite really. I’m an incubus.”

“Why the fuck is a fucking sex demon in my bedroom?” Barclay yanks his pants up. The incubus looks sad at this development.

“I feed on sexual energy, and to do that I follow trails of that same energy to their source. You have a lot of it.”

“Yeah, year-long dry spell’ll do that.”

“Consider it broken.” The demon leans forward only for Barclay to hold up a hand.

“Nope. This is not how I want to break it. Sorry.”

“Is it my appearance? I can look like anyone--or anything--you want.” His features morph, eyes going from brown to blue to green, hair from honey-blond to fire red, “if you’re shy, my powers let me see into your deepest fantasies and make them come true.”

“No that’s not the problem, I wanna fuck someone I have some kinda connection to, not some guy who dropped into my bedroom. And would you please knock it off with that face-changing? I’m not gonna fuck you, so you can just look like yourself.”

The incubus starts, surprised by his sharp refusal, features landing on short, black hair, blue eyes, and a face that’d make a movie-star insecure.

“I said you don’t have to try and be hot.”

“...This is how I look.”

“Oh. Uh. Cool.”

The demon smiles, “Having second thoughts?”

He takes a deep breath and lies through his teeth, “Nope.”

With that, he stands, grabbing the nearest shirt and pulling it on. Sass wiggles when he opens the door, takes one look behind him, and runs the other way.

“I wish I knew why earth canines react that way to me. I have a hellhound named Mother Leeds who adores me.”

“Jersey Devil reference?” He pads into the kitchen, starts the kettle and rummages in the cabinet for the most soothing tea blend he owns.

“Yes!” The demon grins from his new position by the fridge, “when I found her she was pregnant with a litter. Most people don’t get it. Demons don’t either.”

“Friend of mine likes Mothman and all that kinda stuff. Uh” He takes a cup down, reaches for a second one automatically and then stops, “are you gonna hang around? Because my answer isn’t changing and if you keep pestering me I’ll just leave the apartment.”

“No, I’ll drop it. You’re not interested and sexual energy only works if it’s from something consensual. But, um” he toys with a magnet, “could I ask a few questions before I go?”

“About?”

“Humans. How things work up here, what your daily lives are like, that sort of thing.”

“Uh, sure.” He gets down the second mug, “is this so you can better seduce them or something?” Turning, he finds the incubus sitting at the table, producing a small notebook and pen from the air.

“No, this is my own research. I’m, um, more curious about humans than the average demon. I basically ended up an incubus because at my last job I kept trying to talk with humans or spend more time around them than was wise and, well, my supervisor got sick of it. So they offered me a reassignment to a role where the whole point was to be around people.”

“You fuck people just so you can, like, interview them afterwards?” He sets the two mugs on the table, notices that the notebook is crammed with questions in neat, elegant handwriting.

“Technically, I also need the energy from it. But, um, yes” he blushes, “I know it’s a sort of silly hobby.”

“I don’t think it’s silly to wanna know about other worlds and people. But this doesn’t seem like the most, uh, effective way to do it.”

A sigh as the demon picks up his mug, “You’ve got that right. Sometimes I can get a few questions in during ‘pillow talk’ but mostly it’s in and out. Literally.” He snickers at his own bad joke, which further kindles the inexplicable, protective impulse Barclay feels towards him, “Don’t get me wrong, I like my work, and being a good incubus takes skill and dedication. It just...isn’t quite what I thought it’d be.” He sips the tea, brings the mug away from his mouth to study the liquid, “what kind is this?”

“Mostly chamomile.”

“Chamomile…” he flips through the book, which contains more pages than should be physically and spatially possible, “that’s a plant, one that humans thing is calming, right?”

Barclay can’t help but smile, “Right. You want me to sit here and quiz you?”

“No, there’s too much to discover. What would you say is your area of expertise?”

“I’m a cook, so food.”

“Food, food, ah here it is. Let’s see, why do humans persist in eating things that could kill them?”

“You mean things like rhubarb or are we in, like, Fugu territory here?”

The demon smiles, “I have no idea, please say more.”

They sit at the table until two in the morning, at which point Joseph ,the incubus, excuses himself to go collect energy from a willing participant. Before he disappears, he takes a chance and tells Joseph that he can come back if he has more questions. The demon thanks him and, out of what Barclay suspects is a habit more than anything else, blows him a kiss goodbye.

----------------------------------------

“Y’know, I kinda figured you’d look more demonic. Do incubi just get human forms?” Barclay shakes red pepper flakes onto his pizza while Joseph finishes a filled breadstick.

“This isn’t my ‘true’ form. When you asked me just to look like myself when we met, I figured you meant the least alarming version.”

“As long as it’s not, like, a beast with a thousand eyes, we’re good.”

Joseph wipes his mouth and by the time the napkin reaches the other corner of his lips, Barclay is gasping.

His nails turn sharp and silver, his eyes pure black, but it’s his skin that’s most noticeable; it’s swirls and swoops of blue and silver, dancing down his arms and blooming out from the neck of his “Museum of Anthropology” souvenir shirt. He stands, giving Barclay a fuller view. Short horns sprout from his head, doubtless the perfect size and texture to hold him in place with your dick down his throat. His tail is that same mix of royal blue and silver, the right length to wrap around your hand and tug while you fuck him. Every inch of him is made to be pinched and pulled, groped and fondled, and Barclay will not be standing up from the table any time soon.

“It’s the color that gets people.” Joseph smiles with pointed teeth as he sits back down.

“It’s incredible, Joseph.”

The demon smiles, mischievous, “I’m glad you like it. Now, where were we?” He uncovers his notebook from a stack of parmesan packets and clicks his pen, appearance fading back to the human one Barclay is used to. He mourns his loss for a moment, before Joseph draws him into an animated conversation about movie theaters.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Come on Sass, it’s okay. Look, I even have your favorite.” Joseph holds out the treat, still fresh from the oven, while Barclay puts the rest of the batch out of range. The dog no longer runs from the demon, but will not come within arms reach of him.

Sass whines, looking from Joseph to Barclay and back.

“Here” Barclay settles on the couch next to him, resting his arm along the back of it, “see, buddy, he’s our friend.”

Sass creeps forward, still on his belly, plucks the treat from Joseph’s palm, and retreats to his bed.

“Progress.” Joseph leans back, pleased. Their positions mean he comes to rest with Barclays arm around him. Barclay doesn’t move it, and the demon stays put until the end of the episode of Hells’ Kitchen

------------------------------------------

The newest Agent X is so engrossing that Barclay doesn’t register Joseph until his friend slumps onto the bed.

“Hey, you’re early.” He sets the book down on the nightstand, scooching to where the demon sits rubbing his forehead.

“I’m, um, I’m having a bit of a problem.” When he looks up, silver and blue peeks through the skin on his face, “I misjudged how much energy I was going to get from my last two visits. I’m so weak I don’t think I can make it back home. I, um, I came here because if I’m going to be stuck and without powers I” his horns appear and he scratches them awkwardly, “I want it to be around someone I trust.”

“What’ll happen if you can’t get more energy?”

“I’ll get sick, and if the worst happens I’ll have to signal for someone to come get me. Which’ll get me demoted for sure.” He tucks his legs up onto the bed. He’s wearing the UFO socks Barclay gave him as a surprise last week, and the cook sets a hand on a flying-saucer covered ankle.

“You can stay as long as you need, okay? And if there’s anything else I can do to help, let me know.”

“Unless you feel like taking me door to door to ask your neighbors if they want to fuck, a safe place to rest is what I need most.”

“What if, uh, you recharged here?” He draws a finger up and down the side of Josephs’ calf.

The incubus raises his eyebrows, “Barclay, are you forgetting how we met?”

“I didn’t want to fuck you then, but now...now you’re you, this handsome, clever, dorky guy who also happens to be a sex demon who hangs around my house most nights. I, I didn’t ask about sooner because I was afraid you’d think it was fuck me or lose our friendship, but if I can help you in a kinda self-serving way, I’m down.”

Joseph shakes his head, “That’s sweet, but you’re not the only one with concerns. How can I be sure you actually want me, and you’re not just offering because you want to help?”

Barclay snaps his fingers, “You can read my deepest desires, right? How about you take a peek and tell me what you see?”

Joseph closes his eyes, tail twitching as he concentrates, and Barclay gets the distinct pleasure of watching his face as he learns the truth.

“Oh. OH. Um, you’re not kidding about how badly you want me. And some of this makes the reaction you had the one time I showed up in a suit make way more sense. But we can explore that later.” His eyes, now-pitch black, snap open, “right now, big guy, I’ll do whatever you want, however you want it.”

“In that case” Barclay catches Joseph just as he tries for a kiss, “how about you tell me what you want?”

“Barclay, I’m an incubus, I want whatever the person I’m feeding on wants.”

“Nuhuh, I don’t buy that, babe. You’re telling me there’s nothing that’s your favorite, or that you’re curious about?” He teases their lips together.

“N-no?”

“You’re not getting any kisses until you tell me the truth.”

Joseph narrows his eyes with a “hmmph.” Then, as if it’s his greatest secret, he whispers, “I want to know what it’s like to get a massage as foreplay. No one’s ever wanted it or offered, and it sounds so nice.”

Barclay rewards him with a kiss. The demon melts against him, slides a forked tongue into his mouth to tease it. Clawed fingers tug at his shirt until Joseph remembers he can do magic and renders them both naked with a wave of the hand.

When they part, Joseph licks his lips, “Holy hell, Barclay, that kiss was enough to make me feel better than I did this morning. Tastes nice too, like coffee with lots of cream.”

“So, coffee the way you like it.” Barclay nudges him backwards, rolls him over as the incubus keeps talking.

“Usually it’s a neutral sweetness. I wonder, hmm, maybe it has something to do with the fact you’re attracted to me, as in the actual meOHohhhhhhh” he flattens into the bed like a cat on a sunny floor as Barclay digs his thumbs under his shoulder blades.

“You can theorize later babe, I promise. Right now, all you gotta do is let me rub you down. Uh, can you magic up some oil or something? It’ll feel better if--great, thanks.” Barclay sets the lit massage candle safely on the nightstand, waiting for it to melt.

“Should I put my human form back on now that I can hold it?”

“Nope” he traces his hands up parallel patches of silver, pinches one horn playfully, “I love that version of you, but this one is so, so, fucking hot. Now” be kisses the base of his neck, “relax.”

Drizzling liquid wax down his spine makes the incubus moan, but the sound is nothing compared to what happens when he starts kneading him like dough. It’s a yowl, rough and inelegant in a way Joseph never is, and Barclay dedicates the next fifteen minutes to finding new ways to trigger it. He’s so beautiful, it’s like touching a painting, a galaxy, a miracle.

By the time he reaches his lower back the incubus is grinding on the bed and Barclay is half-hard from touching him. He grips Joseph’s ass, parting it enough to grind between the cheeks.

“Don’t tease” his tail delivers a scolding thwack to Barclays cheek. The cook growls, turning his head to capture the offending appendage between his teeth.

“OHholyffffffuckinghell.” Joseph rips the blanket as he flails, “no one’s ever thought to do that before and now I really wish they had.”

That’s all the encouragement he needs. He ignores his growing hard-on in favor of nipping and kissing his way down Joseph’s tail. It’s velvety, feels like nothing he’s ever experienced as it twitches and trembles under his tongue. The base gets an extra-hard lovebite and Joseph moans, rolling over so fast he nearly catches Barclay in the face with his cock. And what a cock, on the narrow side but covered in swirling ridges.

“Holy shit, you just get hotter and hotter.”

“Th-thank you, big guy, now for gods sake pleeEEEase fuck me.” He whimpers adorably when Barclay licks up his shaft.

“Okay babe, we can fuck. But I think…” he grabs the incubus, flipping them so Joseph straddles him, “I want you to fuck me.”

Joseph registers his words and his eyes glow deep blue.

“Uh, is that a good thing?”

“Yes, big guy, it’s the closest I get to having my pupils dilate when aroused. And since you look so good underneath me, I’ll expedite things” he snaps his fingers and Barclay inhales in surprise; his ass is dripping lube and stretched like someone just pulled three fingers away from it.

“Fuck yeah” he spreads his legs, “c’mon blue eyes, don’t make me wait anymoreOHFUCK, fuck, yeah, like that.” He hooks his legs around Joseph as the incubus thrusts all the way in. Joseph kisses in precise shapes up and down his face, even as his hips keep a rapid, erratic rhythm.

“Shit, shit, Barclay you taste so good, feel so good, please, please don’t stop touching me.”

“Not sure I could ever keep my hands to myself again, babe, god you’re so fucking handsomeAH, hah, someone got a praise kink?” He gasps out laughter as Joseph fucks him harder with each kind word. The ridges on his cock are solid enough that Barclay feels them with each drag, and it sets his toes curling.

“Maybe a little one” the incubus smiles against his neck, “though kink is a distinctly human concept and a complex one-SHITfuck, fuck please do that again.” He kisses Barclay hard as the human obligingly pulls his tail with one hand and smacks his ass with the other. Teeth catch Barclay’s lower lip on the next tug, a moan spilling from Josephs’ mouth down his chin.

“That’s it baby, fuck me while I rough you up, fuck, Joseph, your dick is fucking perfect, never gonna want another one, c’mon please, I’m close.”

Joseph sits up, grinning joyfully, and grips Barclays cock. It’s a masterful handjob, because how could a sex demon give anything else, but what strikes Barclay most is how happy and relaxed Joseph is. The incubus admitted once that even when he was having sex, he constantly worried about fulfilling the fantasy to earn enough energy to feed. Yet here he’s laughing and smiling, eyes aglow as he works Barclay up to the best orgasm of his life.

It means something; Barclay only hopes Joseph will stay in his life long enough for him to figure out what.

He’s too busy with the sparks behind his eyelids and the pleasure coursing down from his head to his toes to note that Joseph managed to make them cum at the same time. The incubus pushes a hand through his fair, swooping it back and off his face, as he notes this accomplishment.

“I want to run a marathon. Or maybe go hiking, or swim the lake. I have so much energy. Barclay, it’s amazing. You, it’s never been like that before. It’s felt good, but that was fucking transcendent.

“No fucking kidding.” Barclay shifts onto his side, nestling up against him so his head is under Joseph’s chin. He yawns, kisses a blue shoulder, “but you might have to burn off some energy without me. You wore me out, blue eyes.”

Joseph adjusts his arms so he’s holding him, “If I stay the night, can I walk Sass with you in the morning?”

Barclay nods, already falling asleep, safe in the knowledge that Joseph is okay and, better yet, so fond of him that his eyes are still glowing, “You got a deal, babe.”

#sternclay #agent stern/barclay #reader requests #monster march #TAZ amnesty

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regrettablewritings · 4 years ago

Text

Animatic/Storyboard Music

Got bored/procrastinate-y on coloring in this ultra intricate card for my mom. So I’m just gonna make a list of songs I think make for good animatic material. Because why not/I wanna foist my musical tastes on people/ @locke-writes got me in a music binge. For the most part, it’s just gonna be me explaining the meanings or the vibe or what they generally tend to be used for, but really it’s mostly subjective so imaginate whatchu wanna.

“Trust Me” - The Devil’s Carnival Originally depicting a story about the Scorpion and the Frog, it’s the perfect song for when you want to depict the dynamic between a gullible or at the very least more grounded character and a figure whose intentions . . . may be less than pure. Or good for anyone, really.

“The Dismemberment Song” - The Blue Kid I have a playlist dedicated to songs whose content and sound are just . . . not married to one another, but got a weird flirtationship situation going on. Anyway, I’ve seen people say that they like to imagine it’s sung through the POV of a scorned housewife who’s finally Had Enough™️. And . . . They’re really not wrong for it. Really, though, it’s just the right song for when a sadist is just ready to gut a fucker but is disturbingly jolly about it.

“Love Me Dead” - Ludo Continuing with my trend of songs about people in less than ideal situations, “Love Me Dead” is straight to the point: The relationship is just awful and the guy gets nothing from it, but he can’t help but be hopelessly in a state of adoration for the woman he’s latched on to (“You’re born of a jackal! YOU’RE BEAUTIFUL!!”)

“Constellations” - The Oh Hellos There actually isn’t a plot to this song, it just feels really good (as all songs by The Oh Hellos are prone to be). However, if you feel a need to portray the concept of having to reorganize your thoughts after realizing that maybe they weren’t what you initially thought, and then coming to the conclusion that even though everything changes as a result, you’ll be alright? This is the song for you.

“A Kindling of Sorts” - The Oh Hellos An instrumental piece that is like . . . It’s related to another song of theirs about nationalism called “Torches”, so make of that what you will. (I personally have been using it to imagine storyboarding an opening for an animated The Witcher series.)

“The Other Side” - The Greatest Showman I know everyone and their mom has used this to portray situations like villains trying to get good guys to join their side. But I dun curr, it’s a fun song. That, and I like what Emilyamio did with her interpretation. It’s fun. For a basic rundown, know it’s another song about two characters’ dynamics being explored, with one coming to the other with a proposal that they join them in whatever endeavors they have in store. It’s often portrayed as something evil, but it really doesn’t have to be, as the original context was more about letting loose than anything.

“The Thief and the Moon” - Shawn James A much more mellow piece. Simple and straight to the point: A thief tells the Moon that he plans on stealing her light to shade the world in darkness. The Moon insists that the thief would only doom the world by doing so, to which the thief clarifies that he doesn’t care; if the world is shrouded in shadow, it means he will be able to steal with more ease (“My very existence is a race to attain wealth”). Disgusted, the Moon essentially curses the man with a warning that his greed can and will bring about his end -- and leave him to be forgotten by the rest of mankind, once it happens.

“Villainous Thing” - Shayfer James I’ve seen people say that this song is about singing to a cadaver but I can’t quite find anything confirming that (translation: I’m too lazy to look too into it). Regardless, it’s a fun ditty that yet again portrays someone with less than pure intentions encouraging someone to join him in some good old fashion villainy, as they’ve clearly endured their fair share of hardships and surely wanted to do evil anyway (“You’ll find no ever after here, it’s clear that isn’t what you came for“).

“Necromancin Dancin” - Bear Ghost Straight forward and fun as fuck: A necromancer apparently seems to cross classes and try his hand at barding by not only raising an army of the dead, but by also making them dance in order to make conquering the world easier. Because . . . a body doing Disco Duck isn’t scary, I guess.

"Aquaman” - Walk the Moon A song about one half of a couple wanting to become more involved in their relationship, but still having some nervousness about doing so. If you somehow haven’t heard this song yet, you gotta because it’s the cutest shit.

“Jenny’s Tale” - Ren I’ll be brutally honest, it’s about a woman named Jenny who just wants to get home after a long day of work and an unfortunate encounter with a 14 year old named Screech who gets way in over his head. As in, like, a death happens. That being said, I need. Like. An animated music video of this song. I imagine this shit in gritty charcoal or painted on glass, it just needs this. Somebody who isn’t me who knows what they’re doing, please look into this.

“The Curse of the Fold” - Shawn James As cheesy as it sounds, it basically boils down to not giving up or yielding. But what makes it so cool is the fact that Shawn James makes all his songs basically sound like a western gothic soundtrack. Which helps, because he admits that the title is also a reference to poker, in which giving up too often or too easily can often rob you of a delicious reward gained through perseverance and sacrifice.

“Thank God I’m Not You” - Himalayas I prefer to imagine this for an arrogant asshole of a character. Because that’s exactly what this song is about: They’re a liar and a thief, they’ve been called the son of Satan, and yet they consider themselves lucky -- ‘cause at least they ain’t you! If you have a character in mind who’s a delightful, punchable little shit, this is probably either their anthem or at least on the playlist you inevitably made for them.

"Passerine" - The Oh Hellos So there’s a common trend in The Oh Hellos’ discography that tends to explore the two founders’ experiences with faith and their growth in how they understand it or recognize it. With “Passerine”, the concept being explored is the experience they had when it came to taking a step back and realizing just how many of their supposed “fellow Christians” were actually doing some rather unchristian things, so to speak. When they “prune[d] their feathers”, it became clear that they had less in common with certain people proclaiming to be Christian while also spouting bigotry and greed. However, the desire to move away from such influences comes with the feeling of being torn, as moving too far away from the Bible leaves the singer feeling as though she is betraying something she holds dear. As a result, “Passerine” symbolizes not a breakage from faith, but a breakage from blind faith as they understood it, and the inevitable feeling of being torn that comes along with expanding upon how one views their beliefs and those around them. It’s therefore not uncommon to see Good Omens animatics using this song. (Something I also noticed is that throughout the song, you hear pieces of “Constellations”. TOH have a tendency to reference previous pieces, and considering “Constellations” is a song about changing perspective and the meanings we apply to them, it fits in beautifully with a song about reevaluating one’s stance.)

“Like the Dawn” - The Oh Hellos As stated before, a lot of TOH’s discography draws inspiration from their faith. In this case, it’s an outright retelling of the Garden of Eden, specifically when Adam awoke to find Eve had been created. What makes this iteration stand out to most, however, is that the singer is female, which seems to change the vibe you get. It sweetens the feeling of wonder we often forget the first man might’ve felt upon seeing somebody made for him, creating an air of beauty yet comfort with such lines as “And like the dawn, you broke the dark and my whole earth shook” or “You were the brightest shade of sun I had ever seen.” Even without the awareness or an interest in religious influences, it still manages to be a very feel-good song -- which is the mark of an overall good song in general!

“Confession” - RED Dealing with the constant battle of feeling ashamed that how you feel on the inside isn’t in sync with how you present yourself on the outside. That you should feel bad for smiling out at the world while screaming and thrashing -- like it’s a lie. But you can’t help it: It’s what you’re accustomed to. Though it does end on a hopeful note with the singer deciding that they want to reach out for help and rid themselves of this feeling of pain they have inside.

“When I Grow Up” - Matilda . . . Only if you want to cry. Seriously. When you’re a kid, everything seems difficult but you’re positive that once you grow up, everything will change: You’ll be tall enough to climb the trees you were too small to, you’ll be able to carry everything because you’re stronger, you’ll be brave enough to fight the monsters hiding in your room, you’ll finally have all the answers. . . . But life isn’t that simple. We wish it were, but it isn’t. There’s this bittersweetness about this song, about a sense of purity we unfortunately grow out of where we think things will be just the same enough for us to do what we want when we want, but things are more complicated than that. We still struggle to reach, to bear the weight, to not be afraid, to have even a fraction of the answers. But! We’re reminded that just because we’re told life isn’t fair, doesn’t mean we have to take it. After all, nothing changes when nothing happens. And even beyond that? It helps to remember that we’re never quite done growing up; there’s always more to learn, so remember to be patient with yourself.

“Hand Me My Shovel, I’m Going In!” - Will Wood and the Tapeworms This is . . . a song. The lyrics are honestly kinda all over the place and shooting rapid fire, making it a bit difficult to discern what exactly the singer is going on about. It makes for a pretty crazy song that suggests somebody’s going unhinged, which is apparently precisely the intention?? I’ve seen a lot of people interpret this as a song about a guy who is already at a low point in his life but nonetheless is going, “. . . I bet I can go deeper. Hand me my shovel.”

“No Reason” - Beetlejuice God if i had a youtube channel the segment i would spend on this song would be so juicy just ripe and thicc with thoughts and feelings i tell ya rich like a fresh fatty peach the apple that tempted Eve and gagged Adam yes ‘Nother song that explores the dynamic between two differing people and their worldviews. At its simplest, “No Reason” is about two opposite ends of a spectrum coming to a head: Idealistic and hippie-dippy Delia is convinced that everything happens for a reason, while cynical and depressed Lydia asserts that everything happens at random and it doesn’t matter anyway because we’re all going to die. And even though the delivery is ultimately a comedic one, you get more insight as to why one another feels the way that they do: Lydia, as we’ve previously learned, has recently lost her mother to an illness, which has left her depressed and feeling invisible (a theme in the show); whereas Delia’s failed marriage and desperate attempts to nonetheless be happy have left her dependent on the idea that these things had to have happened for a reason, otherwise, her pain would’ve been for nothing. What’s important is that neither side is actually appointed as the winner, with the song ultimately ending that the universe is random for a reason.

“Barbara 2.0″ - Beetlejuice Without spoiling anything (or at least too much), “Barbara 2.0″ is about growth. It’s about learning to put your foot down after a literal lifetime of being passive out of fear of what might happen and just accepting that nothing will happen if nothing happens -- but that doesn’t make whatever happens good.

“Bleed Magic” - IDHKBTFM It’s either about a killer or a vampire. No, seriously: When Dallon Weekes was asked about what the story of the song was, that was his answer. I personally prefer to think of it as a vampire or demon of some kind, given that the song came out around Halloween. Perfect for yet another example of somebody (likely supernatural) having an upper hand on an unsuspecting mortal. ...I have way too many of these on this list, I swear I don’t have a problem —

“Feel Good Drag” - Anberlin A toxic relationship of sorts. In that it shouldn’t be a relationship to begin with. Depicts the singer being approached by an ex, who seeks a one-night stand while her current boyfriend is out of town. However, the singer is aware that trying to continue anything regardless of the situation is a moot point: Even when they were together, their relationship was doomed from the start, and nothing about that is going to change -- especially now.

“Soviet Trumpeter” - Katzenjammer (It’s kinda difficult to work with this one but I’ve seen people work with less or stranger.) Based off the life of one Eddie Rosner, a Jewish Polish trumpeter whose fame within the USSR unfortunately faded due to the Soviet Union’s heavy censorship. Even if nothing is to be done with it, it still paints a melancholic picture of a talented man’s skills being largely unknown as a result of things beyond his control. All wrapped up in a song that denotes a strange deterioration in a way I can’t quite place.

“Apple Blossom” - The White Stripes On its face, it’s a very sweet song: The singer encourages his beloved to be vulnerable enough with him to tell him her troubles and to let him “sort them out for [her]”. She’s clearly saddened, and seeing so distresses him to where he insists that he will do whatever he can to make her happy. However, the tone of the song and certain lines make it easy to twist into yet another song of a character attempting to seduce somebody into a state of vulnerability . . .

“You’ve Got Possibilities” - It’s a Bird, It’s a Plane, It’s Superman The one singular song people actually liked from this forgotten musical. Perfect for when somebody intends on giving somebody else a makeover. Y’know, after totally roasting them on their posture and clothing. If you want to add a lil something extra, know that the context is that a lady wants to give Clark Kent a makeover, insisting that in spite of his schlubby appearance, there’s gotta be something underneath. I repeat: She is telling this to Clark freaking Kent.

“Still” - Anastasia In the context, the show’s antagonist (not bad guy, there’s a difference) finds himself torn between obligation and personal interest: Does he fulfill his duty and live up to expectations set upon him by his father and the society he’s been selected to help uphold? Or does he let a woman he has become fond of go? Is she truly as innocent as she claims? Or is she well aware of what she’s doing? And every time he thinks he’s reached a conclusion, he can’t help but thing, “But still . . .” Good for when you want to portray a character conflicted between obligations of politics and what their heart wants.

“Two Nobodies in New York” - [title of show] Two young men plan on entering an upcoming theatrical festival but struggle with what to even submit. This song in particular focuses on them trying to figure out what to even write, the concept of fame, and if wanting the certain things that may come with fame can mean anything from being sell-outs to getting a sitcom. It’s admittedly specific, but it’s a cute and funny interaction between two guys who are, for the most part, actually in sync with their thoughts and anxieties. For the time being.

“Into the Unknown” - Idina Menzel Look, I refuse to watch that movie. I just do. But I will take this song over That Other One any day. Mostly because I personally like to imagine that the singer in this song is about to embark on a Pixaresque journey after accidentally leaving her home during the night of The Wild Hunt, accidentally separating her spirit from her body and thus giving her a very limited time to get back to it before she remains a soul trapped in a whirlwind of ghosts forever. But first: Let’s sing about that strange howling that coaxes her so.

“You’re Gonna Go Far, Kid” - The Offspring I sure do long songs that can characterize a shithead . . . Anywho! The smoothest way to go is just to portray some cocky, manipulative shit who’s used to just lying and cheating their way to get what they want before slipping away without any consequences -- to a point. There’s the option of portraying the betrayer’s comeuppance, but there’s also the frustratingly delicious option of just letting them get away with whatever to lie another day.

“Why Should I Worry” - Billy Joel When in doubt, go to earlier Disney. Because like it or not, they had some bops. And when in the need of portraying a happy-go-lucky (probably idiotic) doofus and his more neurotic or cynical friend going about their life with the former just Mr. Magooing it while the latter suffers more realistic consequences? You go with this song. If you want. That’s just me.

“Transformation” - Brother Bear For when you want to invoke a mystical or otherworldly feeling. There’s really not much more I can say except to encourage you to listen to it and watch the scene if you can find it. You’ll get the vibe.

“No Girl’s Toy” - Raggedy Ann and Andy: A Musical Adventure It’s a big shame this movie is relatively unknown and never got a proper VHS release or anything -- mainly because the music in this cult classic is definitely stuff I could see becoming standards. I could see people performing “I Never Get Enough” for little shows, or recycling “Blue” for a different show. Thankfully, somebody was able to upload a clear enough sounding recording of “No Girl’s Toy”, so at least we have that. In context (just...follow me on this), Raggedy Ann’s brother, Raggedy Andy, has had enough of being subjected to “girly things” while in the nursery. Additionally, though, the way the song was written means it can also be interpreted as just a guy who refuses to let himself be yanked around regardless of how thick the sugar being laid on him is. . . . If you wanna poke fun as a character for trying to appear tougher than what he is, here’s the song. (That being said, Andy is a sweetheart at the end of the day. No amount of tough-fronting will hide that.)

“I Enjoy Being a Girl” - Flower Drum Song (It is by sheer coincidence that this song follows the above.) Really, it’s exactly what it says on the tin: The singer enjoys being a girl and what all it entails for her. She loves her feminine form, she loves the attention she gets, she loves dolling herself up, she loves frilly dresses, and she hopes to one day marry a guy who enjoys “having a girl like [her].” And honestly? Good on her! Love whatcha love, lovely! Seriously, though, it’s a cute song for anyone who just wants to indulge in some girliness.

“Chip on My Shoulder” - Legally Blonde Come on: It’s Legally Blonde. You know what this bop is, or at least have an idea of it. But since I love this song, I’ll indulge: Disheartened by her failure to both win back her ex and succeed in the fast-paced environment of Harvard, the normally bright-eyed Elle is ready to call it quits. That is, until junior partner Emmett gets involved. Unimpressed by her story, Emmett reveals that he got to where he was by busting his ass due to having a chip on his shoulder from his rough beginnings — and maybe a chip on the shoulder is exactly what Elle needs to survive. And as somebody driven by spite, I can appreciate that kind of message. Anywho, it all in all is a song about growth and learning how to be “driven as hell” to keep up with an opportunity that may not be easy to take, but is not one to be passed by.

“What Do I Need with Love?” - Thoroughly Modern Millie “What Do I Need with Love?” asks exactly that: He could date a different girl every night of the week if he so wanted, and never once had any desire to go steady before. He considers himself lucky to have never fallen for anyone -- until now. Which he’s not! He’s not in love. ...He totally is and, by his own admission, he’s got it bad it’s terribly adorable.

“Interlude IV” - Zach Callison The entire album is actually a narrative about a failed relationship of Callison’s and I’m sure the other songs are just as great fuel for animatics -- I’m just too caught up on listening to this one over and over. Sometimes, we just wanna listen to Steven Universe cuss and be openly furious. Seriously, though, even without the context of the rest of the story, you get the idea well enough: A spiteful Zach decides to get back at the one that broke his heart in such a painful way, whereas a well-meaning friend insists they just leave it be and move on. While this technically would be the better and healthier option, Zach is just too far gone with rage to let it go and decides to take care of things by himself.

“Evermore” - Beauty & the Beast Look, I know the remake wasn’t anything crazy. But also I don’t honestly care too terribly much. Besides, this song was nice and it really gets me after that key change. We all want a royal doofus to be enamored enough with us to let us go for our own happiness but still know that their life will forever be changed because they met us. Animate that shit. Over and over.

goddamn this list is long lemme just stop this now byyyyeeeee

#long post #boop #music post #sorta

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littlemisslol-fic · 4 years ago

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Summary: Two years after the events of Barviel Keep, Varian has tried to adapt to the expectations brought by being a King’s Ward, with mixed results. Haunted by ghosts, Varian is forced to face the demons he tried to leave behind in Bayangor when his abdication is forcibly stopped by a third party, out for revenge against the Bayan Royal bloodline. On the run, with few allies left to turn to, Varian finds himself chasing a ghost through a series of tests that only a true heir of Demanitus could ever hope to pass.But the shadows are ever present, looming and dark, and not everything is as simple as it might seem.

Notes: One problem gets dealt with. Another gets worse.

The woods were quiet.

Varian scowled as he shoved at a branch, stalking down the path. The letter in his hand was nearly crumbled from how hard he was holding it, balled up tightly. He winced when he realized how it was starting to tear, finally slowing his pace.

He’d left Rapunzel and Eugene behind. Eugene had put himself between Rapunzel and Varian before she could chase after him, not that Varian had taken the time to really look. The alchemist wasn’t sure if that was a good thing- on the one hand, he definitely needed the space, but on the other he was now alone in an unfamiliar area with who knows how many Bayan operatives skulking around. He needed to slow down, get his bearings. To take a breath.

Varian sighed, stopping in a small grove in the woods. He huffed for air, wheezing at finally taking a break. He didn’t know how long he’d been running, at least half an hour, but it felt like longer. His lungs burned, even as he choked air back into his chest through gasping breaths.

Tears stung at his eyes, but he pushed them away. He’d done enough crying, by the Sun, he was sick of it. Varian rubbed at his face with his free hand, shaking his head. The sting of Rapunzel’s betrayal was still fresh, a somber pain deep in his chest that refused to leave. He couldn’t believe that Rapunzel had been hiding this the whole time, while he’d been suffering, desperate for answers after all this time, and she’d taken them from him. She, he knew, would have denied him the truth so long as he was protected, just as she let Corona burn while they ran.

Something in Varian’s stomach curdled at the thought. He wiped at his face again, ignoring how the rough fabric of his cloak rubbed at the skin. He felt stupid; in the time since he left Barviel Keep, he’d spent so long wallowing in his own misery he’d failed to see an extremely dangerous anxiety growing in Rapunzel- and now it was coming to bite him.

It was high noon, the sun weak through the clouds as it tried to break through the treeline. Varian sighed as he walked into the glen in front of him, an open, grassy space surrounding a massive, gnarled willow tree on the bank of a small creek. The alchemist kicked at the dirt under his boots, shaking his head and making his way to the base of the tree. He twisted around, gently falling back against the bark, and sliding down until he was curled at the base of the tree, nearly hidden by the massive roots poking out from the earth.

He sucked in a breath through his nose, taking a second to compose himself. He wasn’t sure what exactly his plan was- he’d never been to the Wildshore Isles, had no idea how to even get there, but it wasn’t like he’d go anywhere else. He pushed a niggling sense of doubt away, shoved it as deep into the back of his mind as he could, and looked back down to the note.

It was basic, simple parchment and elegant script in smudging ink. He read it over once more, shaking his head at the audacity of his sister hiding this from him. He couldn’t help but feel a small splash of guilt at the memory of her heartbroken face, but shoved it right next to the doubt to fester. He was making his own path now, and damn the rest of it. The brook to his left babbled quietly, a soft song that whispered through the trees. It was almost loud enough for Varian to miss the sound of twigs snapping nearby.

Almost.

Varian’s hand flew for his alchemy belt, grabbing one of his bombs. He felt himself tense, fear skuttling up his spine. Varian tightened his grip on the glass, cursing himself for stopping- stupid, stupid, he wasn’t safe here- as a familiar pair of green eyes glowed from within the darkness of the forest.

Rapunzel gasped as she burst through the trees, her hair a mess and her dress dirty. Eugene was close behind, the man obviously relaxing once he caught sight of Varian. Rapunzel moved from the forest, her eyes wide with relief. Varian let his arm drop at the sight of his sister, though the glare stayed. Rapunzel rushed to him, her dress almost a blur.

“Varian,” she sighed, putting her hands over her chest to calm her breathing. “Thank the Sun, we found you.”

Varian scowled, refusing to stand up from where he was hidden in the roots. “Yeah,” he griped, “You found me.”

She paused, stopping at the center of the glen. Her dress swished around her for a second, revealing Ruddiger at her heels. The raccoon chirped with delight at seeing his boy, the animal running along the grass to park himself in Varian’s lap. Rapunzel’s face fell when she saw that Varian was still upset, but she bit her lip and pressed forward. Typical, an angry voice in Varian’s head whispered.

“Varian I-” she cut herself off, her hands dropping to her sides. “I am so sorry.”

The boy only scowled, tears he’d just managed to brush away returning in full force. “That’s great for you,” he said, “But it doesn’t fix this. What you did- what you said.”

Rapunzel looked hurt, green eyes blinking away tears of her own. “I… I know,” she said softly. “I know, it won’t magically fix things. But please, Varian, we have to deal with this once you’re safe.”

Varian felt himself uncurl a bit, meeting her eye a little more as she went on.

“I’m sorry,” Rapunzel said, her voice thick. “Varian, really, I am. I just wanted to protect you.”

The boy scoffed, shrinking back into himself. Rapunzel seemed to notice him closing off, brazenly stepping closer. Her bare feet were silent in the grove, like a ghost. Varian felt the sudden urge to kick at her ankles when she got in range, but shoved the impulse down. Even if he were upset, it wouldn’t be right. Rapunzel sank to her knees so that they were eye to eye. Varian was struck by a feeling of familiarity, of the two of them hiding away in the depths of Corona Castle together, the chill of the earth easy to mistake as the cool touch of polished tile. He shook himself, trying to cling to the feeling of bitterness in him- lest he sink back into the terrified apathy he’d been in since the beginning of his birthday.

Varian moved back when she reached for him. Rapunzel shook her head, trying again and succeeding in taking his hand the second time.

“We need to keep moving.” She sounded close to begging. “Even if-” A heavy sigh, “Even if that means going to the Wildshore Isles, like you want.”

Varian’s head snapped up, eyes widening. “You mean…” he trailed off, unbelieving. Rapunzel nodded, the motioning seeming to pain her. Eugene’s face broke into a small smile behind her, obviously approving.

“If you’re sureyou want to chase this, then that’s where we’ll go,” she said.

Varian felt his lungs twist, the boy sniffling. “I want to,” he said it hesitantly, like he was afraid to say so. “I need… even if she’s just as bad, she might be all that’s left. I need to know. I want that closure.”

Rapunzel winced when he said so, but didn’t argue. Eugene stepped up then, putting a hand on her shoulder and offering the other to Varian.

“Alright kids,” Eugene said, “Glad we got to kiss and make up, but we really should be taking this show on the road.”

Varian huffed, taking his hand and letting Eugene pull him to his feet. Rapunzel followed, wiping at her eyes. The boy shifted from her grip, keeping Eugene between them for now. Varian couldn’t help but still want distance from her, the sting still fresh even with the apology, but it was when he shifted to the side, he saw something move in the woods beyond.

“Look out!” he screamed, shoving Rapunzel roughly to the side. Varian toppled as well, landing a bit to the left. She yelped as she hit the dirt, but the noise wasn’t enough to cover up the loud thwack of a blade embedding itself into the bark of the tree. Eugene let out a shocked shout, the knife having missed him by a hair. All three of them snapped their heads towards the woods, eyes widening in shock as Cerise stood from a lunge, her hand outstretched from throwing the blade.

“Shit.” she sighed. “Must be rusty. Oh well.” She reached behind her, bringing her halberd out from its place on her back. Varian’s heart sank at the heavy thudit made as she settled it in the dirt. Cerise grinned, rolling her shoulders casually as she fixed them with a smug look.

“Who’s ready for round two?”

There was a split second of silence, the four of them staring at each other, waiting for the other side to make a move. Rapunzel had her frying pan ready at her side, Eugene had his sword. Varian’s glove tightened around his last bomb- he couldn’t help but feel underprepared for a fight. The silence stretched, thick like molasses; Varian started to worry no one would ever make the first move.

But Cerise, it seemed, was out of patience.

With a small cry of exertion she ripped the halberd from the ground, running toward the Coronians. Eugene let out a startled noise, moving himself between her and his prone charges. Varian scrambled to his feet, a hand already on his alchemy belt, and looked over just in time to see Cerise stab the axe end of her halberd into the earth, using the momentum of her run to use it almost like a pole vault. She launched herself into the air, her cloak flaring out behind her like bat’s wings that blocked out the sun for a quick second, before landing both feet on Eugene’s shoulders, the man yelping as she used him as a jumping point. Her grip on the halberd never faltered, dragging it behind her as he sprung into the air.

He hit the ground with an oof, knocked to the dirt from the force of her jump. She landed in front of Rapunzel and Varian in a crouch, taking a second to blow a wayward piece of hair from her face. When she stood, Varian felt himself tense. Cerise stood, shifting her weight once onto her heels with a little bounce.

With that, she swung the halberd around, sending Varian backpedaling with a yelp. Rapunzel shot to her feet at long last, only to be smacked to the side by the blunt edge of the axe. She shrieked as she was batted away, being thrown a good few feet and back into the dirt. Ruddiger screeched, disappearing into the treeline, knowing better than to stick around.

Varian winced, his hand tightening on his final goo bomb. He chanced a wide-eyed look up to Cerise, who seemed to be over even trying to play around at this point, and threw the bomb. The Bayan woman seemed to have figured out his tricks, however, and it too was swatted away by the halberd, launching it to the side and- Varian noticed with a grimace- hitting Eugene head on, trapping the man flat on his back with the sticky chemical.

Eugene let out an indignant cry at that, something about his hair and dirt, but Varian was too busy being forced to duck as the halberd, now with the blade pointed towards him, was swung back around. He hit the dirt with a gasp, curling into himself as the blade embedded itself in the tree trunk behind him.

Varian heard Cerise snarl, something in a language he’d never spoken, and took the chance to push himself off the ground and around her, dodging a grab when he did so. He ran to Rapunzel first, trying to pull her to her feet. She shoved him back gently, shaking her head.

“GO!” She screamed at him, her voice echoing. “We’ll handle this, just go!”

Varian stumbled back, his gaze flicking between Rapunzel and where Cerise was pulling at her halberd in an attempt to get it unstuck. “I can’t just-” he started to say, only for Eugene to butt in from behind.

“Kid, we love you, but get outta here!”

That was enough to get Varian moving again, shoving a vial into Rapunzel’s hands. It was neutralizing agent, which he was confident she knew, and took the second to look at her. She caught his eye, getting to her feet and shaking herself.

“We’ll find you once this is done.” Rapunzel muttered, running past him to get to Eugene. Varian didn’t take the second to think, his feet moving without thought. The treeline opened up around him, the boy sprinting for the brook without thought. At least if he followed the water he’d be able to find his way back.

Varian sprinted along the bank of the river, his boots sinking into the damn earth and causing him to stumble a few times. He cursed when he nearly twisted an ankle, only just catching himself on a knee before pushing his weary bones back into a run. His lungs burned, his tired legs pumping as hard as he could force them. He was exhausted, from the run earlier in the afternoon but also just from the past week in general- Varian forced air down in a gasp, nearly tripping again and sliding in the mud.

The ground began to rise in front of him, turning into something of a ramp taking him up, up, up and into a gorge. Before he realized it, Varian found himself on a high footpath along the stone wall, the creek having turned into a rushing river nearly forty meters below. Varian shuddered when he caught sight of how far up he’d managed to run, forcing himself to pay attention to the thin path in front of him.

He felt like a coward for running, but at the same time he knew Rapunzel and Eugene were right on this one. It was wise to get Cerise’s target away from her and give the heavier hitters have more space to work. It was smarter, sure, but as he felt his body slow from the exhaustion creeping in, his stomach churned. What if his family got hurt, and he wasn’t there? He had full confidence that Rapunzel and Eugene could take their Bayan opponent, but she was still formidable enough, and it was obvious that Cerise had started to learn their tricks.

He slowed to a walk, gasping for breath through his aching lungs. His legs hurt, mostly around the knees and ankles after the rough week. He wiped sweat from his face, trying in vain to rub the salt from his eyes. His ears perked up at the sound of moving stones from the path, the snapping of twigs. He listened, trying to pinpoint the noise, and tensing when he realized what hey were.

Footsteps.

He turned around, looking down the path he’d come from, foolishly hoping to see Rapunzel or Eugene coming up behind him, but only groaned when he caught sight of black hair. Of course.

“You’ve gotta- ugh- gotta be kidding me,” he sighed in between panting breaths.

Cerise seemed to have lost her halberd somewhere along the line. Her hair was a frazzled mess, and she had a horrible bruise started on the side of her face. She caught sight of Varian, and seemed to run even faster- Varian stepped back with a yelp, already turning to run farther down the path. She must have seen him following the river, of course.

“Get back here you little shit!” He heard the Bayan woman scream at him, sounding nearly feral with rage as he ran. She also sounded much closer than he thought she was, and he spurred his aching legs to work double time.

The canyon around him was becoming taller by the second, covered in thick foliage, creeping ivy and stubborn trees, and far below the river grew more and more violent. Up ahead was a fallen tree trunk, the thick column spanning across the cliffs and creating a bridge of sorts. It was wrapped in ivy and vines, grown over with foliage. Varian’s heart sank when he saw it, knowing exactly what it was.

An opportunity.

If he could just get across before her, find a way to dislodge it- he’d have time to get back to Rapunzel and Eugene before Cerise could make it around the gorge. He groaned, forcing himself to run faster toward it. Stones clattered when he ran by, dropping the long fall into the water below. He tried to ignore how long it took for them to hit the ground.

Gods, this is the worst, he thought to himself, the absolute worst.

The log drew close; Varian didn’t bother to stop before he jumped up onto it. He grit his teeth as it wobbled under him, rolling nauseatingly to the side a bit before settling back in its place. He threw his hands out to either side, his balance absolute crap as he took the first few shaky steps on the bark.

It was about ten meters to the other side. Varian shuddered when the wind blew past him, making his footwork falter in a way that sent his heart into his throat. He chanced a look down, tensing up and nearly screaming at the sight of the drop below. The log gave a sickening creak, rocking in place again.

Varian was forced to windmill his arms to keep balanced, stopping so that he could regain balance. Bile rose as the log settled, but he choked it down.

“Don’t look down,” he muttered, “Don’t look down, don’t look down, don’t look down-”

He looked down.

The makeshift bridge shuddered again. Varian chanced a look behind him, and saw Cerise step up and onto his little platform. Shit. The alchemist was only halfway across. Cerise was still for a second, seeming to gauge how good of an idea stepping fully off solid earth was, before looking up at him with a scowl.

“Are we really going to play this game?” she asked, “This seems like a hell of a gamble, crow.”

The log swayed again, but Varian stood his ground.

“Worth a shot,” he replied, already cautiously taking a step backward, never breaking eye contact with her. Cerise responded by taking another step, mirroring his movements. They went like that, back and forth, until she was fully onto the log and over the gaping maw of the gorge. She was putting up a brave front, but Varian could see a tenseness of her shoulders and the way her eyes darted between him and the drop below them both.

They reached another stalemate, both of them waiting for the other to make a move. Varian knew she wasn’t out to kill him- she’d had enough chances to murder him and every time she’d aimed to get him back to Corona, just like her brother. Why they wanted him alive, Varian didn’t know, but he was willing to bet it was important enough to keep her from sending them both down to a watery grave.

He wasn’t sure what to do, barely able to think over his racing heart- he’d wanted to knock the log away after crossing but Varian wasn’t sure if he was capable of doing so while someone, even someone out to hurt him, stood on it. The log wobbled under him again; both of them swayed a bit to keep their balance. The wood under them let out a terrifying groan, and began to shake.

Varian hissed when the shaking didn’t stop, and with horror he looked behind himself to where their bridge was connected to the stone. With a sinking feeling he saw the ivy begin to snap, and the whole structure begin to slide.

“Oh no,” he gasped, stepping back. Cerise looked around him, her stance going horrified when the log slipped down a level, jostling them both.

”Shit!” she yelped, ducking down on her knees to grab at the log with her hands. Varian mirrored her, lost as to what to do, trying to slowly scramble toward her- he had to get the hell off this thing before-

Snap.

Varian shrieked as the one end of the log dropped, sending their bridge pointing directly down into the chasm. He felt his stomach swoop out from under him as his side of the log fell, swinging like the worst pendulum in the history of man. He clung to the bark with all the strength left in him, his aching fingers surely bloody with how tightly he was clinging.

Cerise wasn’t faring much better, having slipped a bit down the log until catching a foothold closer to Varian. He could see the way she gnashed her teeth against the pain. The log swayed, held up only by a series of clinging vines and a dash of terrified prayers.

Varian was the first to move, raising a shaking hand up to grab onto a branch above him. He managed to snag it, hesitantly pulling himself up a little more. Cerise seemed to get what his plan was, the woman spitting out a curse. Varian flinched when she too grabbed another branch, reaching into her boot with her free hand.

His heart sank as she pulled out a small dagger from her boot, the metal shining in the weak sun.

He nearly fell when she swiped at him, forcing Varian to grab onto another branch. His sweaty hands almost slipped, his gloves the only thing keeping his grip on the rotting bark of the tree. Another gust of wind sent them spinning, their log twisting and swinging in a way that made Varian motion sick. Cerise seemed unaffected as she took another swing with the dagger, narrowly missing as Varian shuffled his way onto another branch. Her blade sliced through a vine cleanly, causing it to fall away from the tree.

He chanced a look behind him, seeing the insane glint in her eye. A line of ruby red blood dripped from her temple down into her eye, coating nearly half her face and pasting whisps of hair to her face.

“I’m donewith this,” she snarled, moving after him like a hunter after prey. She took another swing when she was close enough, the blade of the knife catching Varian’s arm. He shouted at the burning pain of the slice as it cut cleanly through Quirin’s cloak and into his skin, but the cry was cut off as he saw her knife go through another vine.

The tree gave an unhappy groan, sinking a bit. Varian felt ice cold fear creep up his spine, looking up towards where the other vines were keeping them attached to the cliff were taut and strained with the weight.

“Stop,” his breath was a whisper, choked as he tried to push air past the knot in his throat. “Stop!”

Cerise raised her blade high, either unaware or uncaring of what he was saying. Varian scrambled for a higher foothold, grabbing a branch higher up and tucking his knees up against his chest to keep the blade from him. The cut in his arm burned, his fingers ached, but all of that faded to the sound of another swishof a vine being cut.

“You’re going to kill us!” he gasped, scrambling higher along the tree. Cerise followed, snarling like a beast. Varian felt another cut, this time on his leg, and screamed again. He kicked at the woman, wincing when his boot connected with her nose. She fell away with a yowl, catching herself on her branch as she held her nose. Her knife dropped, disappearing quickly into the water forty feet below. Varian took the chance, moving away while she was distracted.

He was close to the top when he heard another long groan from the log, followed by a small snap. Blue eyes widened in horror when he saw another vine give way, not cut, but snapped under the pressure of holding them up over the long drop. He watched with terror as the vine fell, following Cerise’s knife in dropping into the raging water.

Varian scrambled for the top safety and caution thrown to the wind, just wanting to get out. He was nearly to the top when he felt a hand grab at his boot. Blue eyes frantically looked down, seeing Cerise clinging to his ankle with a steel grip.

He swung his foot again; Cerise let go to avoid another kick to the face. Varian pulled himself up another foot- the edge of the cliff was right there- and managed to get a hand on the uppermost branch of the tree when another vine snapped.

Varian grabbed hold of the rockface, the breath in him leaving with a huff of relief as he finally grabbed something solid. Another vine let go with a horrifying groan; the tree began to slip, falling a good few feet down. Varian felt a pulse of terror at that, his feet leaving the wood as the tree dropped away from under him. The tree swung away, spinning once more as a few more vines let go.

Varian twisted to look down, swallowing bile at the sight of the drop. He caught site of glowing green eyes through the foliage of the tree, wide and furious. Before he could think, Varian was reaching down with his free hand, his shoulders straining and his feet digging into the stone wall.

“It’s going to fall!” he screamed, stretching as far as he could push himself. Even if she was out to kill him, she was still a person-

Another vine snapped.

And the tree dropped.

Varian shrieked as the broken vine smacked his hand, hard enough to surely bruise. He winced and drew his hand back, eyes slamming shut against the pain. In that split second things were nearly silent, save for a small whoosh but then- with a noise like snapping bone- a massive crack of wood against stone.

When he opened his eyes again, the tree was shattered against the rocks. Wood splinters littered the water, which had turned a sickening red; the colour spread like an illness, changing white and blue to ruby without preamble.

Varian was unable to tear his eyes away, scanning the wreckage for any sight of Cerise. She’d just- not even a scream- dropped like a stone-

Varian felt his chest hitch roughly as a body floated to the surface. His heart stopped. The boy’s arms were shaking not from exertion, but from primal horror. He watched Cerise’s corpse float a few feet from the wreckage of the tree, coming to rest on the bank. Blood, fresh and deep red, flowed freely along the water, staining the white sand crimson.

The alchemist bit at his lip, forcing himself to turn away. He bullied his aching arms to pull himself up and over the edge of the cliff, the wave of panic only just slowing when he had solid ground under him. He lay flat on his stomach for a second, forcing himself to breathe his way through the adrenaline rushing through his system.

He trembled, rolling onto his hands and knees, unable to shake the image of the corpse below from his mind. He retched, though nothing came up from his empty stomach. His whole body shook violently, harsh tremors that rattled his entire frame. She was dead, and he was to blame for it. He’d killed a second person.

The river below continued to rush by, loud in the deathly silence that surrounded him. Varian’s trembling fingers gripped the stones under him, a tight hold that surely turned his knuckles white under the gloves. The shock of it was immense, a wave of terror that refused to abate no matter how long it had been since the danger had passed-

“Varian!”

Eugene.

Varian didn’t look up at the familiar voice, his eyes locked onto the dirt. He didn’t move when hands fell on his shoulders, shaking him lightly, nor when Eugene’s voice grew more frantic. Varian felt like he was underwater, the noise around him filtering away and the world smudging- everything spun, his soupy thoughts unable to make connections with anything. His head nodded a bit… oh, Eugene was shaking him. Varian blinked slowly, looking up to the man with a blank face. Eugene’s face was pale, obviously shaken. He said something, but the words filtered through Varian’s mind without sticking.

The boy focused on the direct center of Eugene’s face, not registering. The man shook him again, slightly rougher, but still Varian did not respond. Something in him couldn’t, wouldn’t; if he opened his mouth, he’d surely vomit. His stomach rolled again, but Varian forced it down- Eugene surely wouldn’t appreciate sick on his jacket.

The man finally seemed to give up, releasing Varian and pushing to his feet to peer over the edge. Eugene made a disgusted noise when he saw the corpse Varian had put there. The boy gagged again at the thought, spitting into the soil to rid his mouth of the foul taste.

Eugene moved back to the boy, spreading a hand in between his shoulders in a move that was probably supposed to be comforting.

“Varian,” he said, soothing, “Buddy, we should go. This isn’t a good place to be.”

The boy shuddered, shaking his head. His knees were like jelly, trembling and weak; if he weren’t already kneeling, they’d surely give out from under him. Varian spat the taste of bile from his mouth.

Eugene was in front of him again, his voice swimming in and out of comprehension.

“-go, get away-”

“-Rapunzel-”

“-Varian.”

That caught his attention.

Varian forced his eyes up from looking at the dirt, blinking dazedly as Eugene’s hands came back to rest on his shoulders. The man seemed disturbed, eyes wide and frantic. The man shook him gently, but Varian still didn’t reply. Eugene switched tactics, holding his arms out and wrapping Varian in a gentle hug, his movements slow, like he was approaching a spooked animal. When the alchemist didn’t pull away, he tugged the boy closer, holding him tightly.

Varian forced a hand away from the dirt, grabbing onto Eugene’s coat with a sudden purpose. His fingers dug into the fabric of the jacket, a vice grip that trembled as Varian sank into the man’s hold with a sob.

“Oh, shit, hey kid,” Eugene murmured, “You’re okay, it’s over.”

Varian could feel hot tears trailing down his face, the adrenaline and fear leaving his body and leaving only a hollow feeling. He gasped for air, burying his face into the front of Eugene’s jacket and refusing to look up. Varian felt arms wrap around him, supporting and calm.

“Let it out, bud.” Eugene murmured, placating.

Varian barely registered when Eugene scooped him up off the ground. If it were any other time he’d be surprised- Varian may be short but he didn’t think he was that light- but for now he only felt a strange numbness. It was similar to how he’d felt after Barviel Keep, but less intense.

Less biting.

He buried his face into his friend’s chest, letting himself be carried for a while. It felt… nice, to be honest, to be wrapped up and held tightly, to not have to think, to run, to work. Thick arms around him, ones he knew wouldn’t let him fall, safe and warm. Varian’s breathing began to even out, shuddering gasps relaxing into deep sniffles.

He drifted, adrenaline leaving as quickly as it had come. Varian shuddered, pressing closer into Eugene’s shoulder. He didn’t notice as the scenery changed, the cliffs disappearing and slowly filtering back into forest, only to thin once more. The sound of waves were audible, a gentle lap that was in sync with the rocking of Eugene’s footsteps. Varian kept his eyes closed, letting his shaking hands relax from their death grip on his friend’s shirt.

He was nearly asleep when Eugene stopped.

Varian cracked his eye open, wincing at the bright sun. They were out of the forest, on a sandy beach. There was a large body of water in front of them, one that Varian knew eventually connected to Corona’s bay. He sniffed again, the fresh air helping to clear his head. Eugene’s arms hugged him a little tighter, not constricting, but solid.

“Rapunzel?” he called down the shoreline, and his grip on Varian tightened marginally when the boy tensed up at the name. Varian shifted, moving to look down the sand. He blinked away the sunlight, noticing an approaching figure.

“Eugene,” Rapunzel’s voice filtered through the buzzing in his skull. “Varian! Thank the Sun, you’re okay!”

“We’re fine,” Eugene soothed. Rapunzel’s figure came closer, her hands lifting up towards Varian’s face only to stop when the boy flinched away. Varian began to squirm, pushing at Eugene until the man set him down on wobbly legs.

“Sure,” he sighed, “Fine. Let’s go with that.”

Rapunzel was pale, frazzled. Her arm was still covered in blood, ruby red; Varian shuddered at the sight of it. He stumbled a little when his feet hit the sand, boots sinking into the earth. Something in him felt almost numb. Cold.

“Is she still following you?” Rapunzel asked, clearly talking about Cerise. Eugene grimaced, rubbing at the back of his neck.

“She’s dead,” Varian said bluntly. Rapunzel blinked, rapid and confused, but when Eugene nodded, she turned her focus back to Varian. The alchemist refused to meet her eye, instead turning out to watch the waves.

“It was an accident.”

Eugene, ever the mediator. Varian slowly blinked as the waves continued to pound at the sand, pushing and pulling with the tide. The water rushed over the tips of his shoes before receding, a hypnotic ebb and flow. The numbness in him did the same, slowly washing over the remaining horror. The noise of his friends faded away, taken out with the tide. Little bubbles crept up from under his sinking boots; he wondered if he stood here long enough if he’d disappear completely beneath the waves.

“Varian?”

Varian looked up at his friends, finding them both looking at him. Eugene rolled his shoulders casually, before clapping his hands together.

“Well, goggles,” he said with a false cheer, “This is your circus, what’s the plan?”

Rapunzel’s face soured, but Varian elected to ignore it. She could be upset if she wanted; he knew what he had to do, with or without her. Varian pulled Aisha’s note from his pocket, looking down at it once more. He nodded once, more an assurance to himself than anything, before looking back to his friends. A tentative grin crossed his face, weak but obvious.

“We’re going to need a boat.”

>>>><<<<

When Arianna heard Merrick scream, she nearly jumped out of her skin.

The war room, the same one that had been in use by the Bayans since the start of this whole thing, echoed with the wail. All heads snapped towards the front of the table, Coronian and Bayan alike. Merrick’s lieutenants, a group of men and women about the same ages as Rapunzel and Eugene, all looked to their leader in concern as he doubled over, the scream ripped from his chest in animalistic agony.

Arianna watched in unsettled curiosity as Merrick dropped like a stone, his metal hand catching the edge of the wooden table. The two Bayans closest to their leader stood to help him, but stopped when the shriek cut off with a terrifying silence. All Arianna could see was Merrick’s metal limb clutching the table, the grip tightening with every second until the wood finally gave way. Metal claws sank into the softer surface before finally tearing a fistful of oak from the edge, as easy as one would a handful of snow.

She could hear clicking gears and whining steam- a spark of something fizzled through the air. Arianna didn’t seem to be the only one perturbed by the sudden change, everyone in the room holding their breath as Merrick pushed himself to his feet. The queen shuddered, forcing herself to maintain a blank look on her face even as a cold feeling sank into her stomach.

Merrick had gone pale, a sickening white pallor crossing his face with reckless abandon. His eyes were wide, bloodshot; his chest heaved as if he’d just run a marathon. He pressed both palms to the table, slumping over it with tenseness in both shoulder and spine.

There was a brief second of tense hesitation, no one in the room willing to make a move, until one lieutenant got brave.

“S-sir?” her voice shattered the silence, leaving the air oddly empty save for Merrick’s still heaving breaths. “Sir, are you alright?”

Merrick’s wild eyes snapped from the table up to her, the blonde woman shrinking in her chair at the manic grimace that crossed his face.

“Cer- the general,” his voice actually broke; the room’s atmosphere seemed to break with it. “She- I felt her-”

“Sir?”

Arianna watched that metal hand grab into the table again, Merrick sucking in a deep breath through his nose. He pushed himself upward again, forcing his gaze forward. Arianna noted, from her place to his left, that his eyes were strangely bloodshot and red. Almost like-

“Our general is dead,” he said bluntly, loud and strong and oh no, Arianna recognized that voice. She’d heard it from Fred, from Rapunzel, from Eugene, seven hells she’d even used it herself; it was the sound of someone trying to be strong in the face of tragedy. Someone pushing down tears to seem infallible to the people under their command. Arianna was grateful for the lieutenants all exploding into a cacophony of questions, demanding to know what he meant, the noise covering her own shock.

Merrick sucked in another breath, and held up his metal hand. The room went deadly silent.

“We can only assume she found the crow-” The words rang out, accusatory. Arianna caught a few of the Bayans flinch at that; one lieutenant covered his mouth with a hand. “-and that she wasn’t able to best all three of them.” Merrick paused then, swallowing thickly. “She is- was, a brilliant general. One of the best. She will be remembered in the light of the new Bayangor, just as any of us will be.”

Arianna felt sick- she couldn’t see her children murdering the woman, but Merrick certainly seemed convinced she was gone. The queen couldn’t help but think back to Varian, just a child, in a mechanical monster, grabbing at her, crushing her, blinded by rage-

“This meeting is over.” Merrick’s voice snapped her from the memories. “I… I have to think over our next steps.”

Arianna had never seen a room empty so quickly. One of the Bayans, the one who had asked when Merrick had fallen, took a second to approach her leader, gently putting a hand on his shoulder. Merrick caught her eye, nodding to her. She patted his shoulder once before leaving, shutting the door behind her.

The room was quiet, save for Merrick’s thick breaths. It was just Arianna, Frederick (or what was left of him in the obedient shell that he currently was), and the Bayan man who had done nothing but cause them misery. Once his underlings had left, Merrick slumped like a corpse, falling back into his chair without any of his usual bravado.

Everything was still.

Until it wasn’t.

Merrick began to shake his head, quietly mumbling to himself. He wiped at his face with hands on flesh and metal, pushing and pulling at his skin in rough movements. Arianna tried to ignore the small sliver of pity in her heart at the sight of tears in his eyes. Suddenly the person in front of her didn’t seem like a brutal separatist who had attacked her home and family- if Arianna didn’t know better, Merrick almost reminded her of Varian, right after he’d lost Quirin for a second time. A young man, barely into adulthood, in mourning.

The Bayan in the chair shuddered, his shoulders shaking with some kind of emotion. He brought his knees up to his chest, shrinking into himself- and he truly did seem small. Merrick brought a shaking hand- the human one- up into the air, quietly drawing the shape of some kind of rune into the air. Where his finger traced, he left a small flaming line, as if drawing with chalk on a board. When he was done, Merrick leaned back, curling tighter into the chair.

“S-show me,” his voice cracked with the command. The pity in Arianna’s gut began to grow at the absolutely devastated look on her enemy’s face. Merrick didn’t even seem to notice she and Frederic were still in the room with him, instead looking at the rune a little more intently. “Show me!” he snapped, waving his hand in a rough motion.

The rune gently spun in the air, flat like a disk, until an image began to appear in the very center. Arianna couldn’t help but feel fascinated by the casual show of magic; Corona had always been less inclined towards the arcane arts, so she couldn’t help but marvel at the spectacle.

The image solidified.

The first thing Arianna saw was Varian. Her heart stopped at the sight of him, bloodied and bruised and filthy but alive, a hand splayed out towards the viewer. Varian looked terrified, pale and wild. The image moved, almost like it was from the point of view from someone- Cerise, if Arianna were to take an educated guess- dropping down from what looked like a cliff.

Merrick watched with focused eyes, scanning the image as it ran through. Varian’s mouth opened in a silent scream, and the image began to shake and twist in a disorientating way. The last thing it showed was the rock face rushing past, a river drawing close at an alarming rate- Cerise was falling- before suddenly going black.

Merrick flinched when it did. The Bayan huddled tighter as they watched what must have been his sister’s final moments, from her eyes. He waved a hand again, reversing the images until they were back at the top of the cliff, Varian scrambling to safety and kicking at Cerise to keep her from grabbing him. Merrick made a growling noise when the boy’s boot slammed into her face, the vision snapping to the side with Cerise’s head.

Arianna focused mostly on her boy- Varian looked rough, and where was Rapunzel? And Eugene? The fact that it was just Varian holding his own made her concerned over her daughter and son in law, a wave of dread coming over her at only seeing one of her children safe-if-not-sound.

Merrick waved his hand again, pausing the image. He had stopped it on a view of Varian’s face, scrunched up in anger as he kicked at Cerise. Merrick stood from his chair, leaning forward.

“He killed her,” the Bayan breathed into the silence of the room. Arianna paused her own thoughts, turning attention to Merrick as he leaned closer and closer to the image of Varian’s face. Something furious took over his face, locking eyes with the still image of Varian. “He killed her.”

Arianna felt her heart stop.

Merrick leaned into the table again, palms down once more, but this time was different. Where before he had been shaking in misery, now… now it was very obviously rage. Arianna jumped as a nearby candle’s flame burst, the fire growing to five times its original size. A quick glace showed all the candles in the room growing, the flames rising towards the ceiling. Nearby, one of the bayan banners lit up as well. Arianna could feel the heat on her face, silently counting down until the moment she’d have to give up her ruse and run for her own safety.

The nearby hearth, once only embers, was spilling out from the stone, eating at the wooden mantle and floors, singing everything nearby. Merrick hunched over, jerky and uncoordinated, before letting out a guttural shout of pure, feral rage. He brought his arms up, swiping at the table in front of him and sending the contents scattering, papers, pens, and inkwells flying across the room.

The flames grew, wild and uncontrollable- like an animal prowling through the air. Merrick’s shout cut off into a snarl, the man slamming his hands onto the table with a loud BANG and the fire around them growing even higher. He seemed to be scanning the image of Varian, searching for something. His eye seemed to catch something, leaning closer.

“Oh,” his voice was deceptively small. “Oh, I see your game, crow.” He nodded to himself, and Arianna heaved a sigh of relief as the fires all puttered out, trails of smoke floating through the air.

Merrick pushed himself from the table, walking toward the door his lieutenants had left from. Though Arianna ached to follow, she kept herself still as he kicked the door open. She caught site of the Bayans, the group waiting outside. Merrick paused when he saw all of them waiting, but the queen watched the façade spring back up in the way he threw his arms wide.

“Time to pack your shit,” Merrick declared, “We’ve got our heading.” The Bayans cheered at the declaration. Merrick’s arms dropped, the man making his way from the room and into the hallway beyond. The meeting room was plunged into a silent darkness, the fires snuffed out and filling the space with hazy smoke. It was a false peace, like the eye of a hurricane.

Arianna couldn’t get her hands to stop shaking.

#Varian #Tangled the Series #fic #tts

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syndianites · 5 years ago

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Pineapples

Summary: In a world made of beginnings, it’s hard for things to stay the same. Tom and Jordan certainly didn’t. (Ianitee!Tom, Dianitee!Jordan)

Note: No content warnings attached, but please let me know if I should add any. I may make a full-fledged fic out of this idea, with a focus on Ianite and Tom trying to figure out how balance should work when they don’t click well. The side pieces would be Dianite and Jordan building into a dynamic duo, while Jordan starts to realize just what his choice means, and Karl trying to work things out with Mianite when he knows that order is not in his veins.

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Also on Archive of Our Own: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24609547

Tom thought of pineapples the day things shifted.

It’s weird to consider. How what had seemed so solid, so steadfast, could slide just a touch to the left and change.

He wondered why he didn’t see it coming sooner-

-an arrow sailing through the air, smooth and undeterred. He knew it would land before it left his fingers. All he felt was cold, cold, cold-

-but he supposed that wasn’t really his job. Thinking was hard. It was Jordan’s job.

That brought a frown to his face. He supposed, again, that there were a lot of things that weren’t his job, now. A lot of things that were Jordan’s.

Tom was lazing about on the courthouse island, gazing up at the sky from the top of the arch. He imagined Jordan on his island doing the same- no armor, no weapons, just him and the grass around him, soaking in the sun. But he knew better. Jordan was likely tinkering away, having too many restless thoughts to take a breather.

Maybe that was why they had changed so much.

He could always see the gears turning in Jordan’s eyes, as though he were an automaton. Thoughts going click, click, click, churning and burning away until he got to a conclusion. It annoyed him. Where was the peace in always thinking? Tom was an avid believer in not thinking too much.

There was a lot he didn’t want to think about.

Or maybe they hadn’t changed at all.

But there was a simmer underneath his skin, a buzz of energy that was new to him. Tom was used to warmth, an unseen fire swelling in his chest and heating his veins. It was passion, it was drive, it pushed him to do, do, do. To laugh with friends, to destroy their lives, to wrap an arm around them, to slice a line down their torso.

There was no warmth, now. Just that buzz, that thrum. Distant but there all the same. Like an echo, a low bell bouncing between the walls of an empty village.

Tom pulled his hat down over his eyes. He was a pirate. Jordan was a captain. That should have made their roles clear, right? Simple, straight forward.

Jordan, the captain, would keep things together, keep things settled and neutral.

Tom, the pirate, would push buttons and steal shit, stir up trouble with each breath.

He thought, suddenly, of Capsize and her crew. Pirates in their own right, filled with mischief and wanting to stir up trouble of another kind. Maybe he should have known, then, what would happen. What being a pirate meant.

A whispered request. A hushed promise. “Pretend,” had been asked of him. “Of course,” he nodded. He didn’t know it yet, but that would be a lie, would be the final nail in the coffin.

A burial at sea, his body left to float along gentle waves, going out in a blaze of glory only to get snuffed out by endless water. The irony wasn’t lost on him.

He thought of pineapples, instead. They were sweet. A delicacy. Made for warm, tropical climates.

It’d been a while since he had one. Tom had always been unsure if he’d liked them. Sure, they were sweet, but there was a tartness to them, a bit of flavor that stole away the sweetness. He could only have a few pieces before he had to stop and think about it.

Did he actually like it?

They were rare and interesting. It was hard to grow them here. The Isles were somewhere between temperate and warm- something Jordan had mentioned once. The salty sea didn’t help them grow one bit.

Tom laced his fingers together over his chest.

His words were sweet rolling over his ears. Tiny praises encouraging violence. Syrupy voice pushing him towards destruction. That rush of seeing something explode, the stark reality of just what he had destroyed.

Watching quartz fall, fall, fall. Watching red drip, drip, drip. There were a lot of things he’d ruined to feel loved.

Something else Jordan had mentioned, that sparkle in his eye as he divulged more information to Tom that he figured would be forgotten in minutes- but that Tom had held onto, curiously enough- was that pineapples dissolve proteins.

Something about a chemical- a cell? Something that sounded like science- that ate away at flesh if left on your tongue too long.

“Basically, pineapples eat you back!” A laugh. “I guess that’s the give and take of life, right? The balance between plants and animals.”

He’d said it as a joke, but Tom’s mind latched onto it. He wondered what else nature tried to hold onto to keep balance. What it was like to be a plant that knew nothing about how powerless it was. That didn’t know there were beings bigger and stronger than them, beings that wanted to eat them, ruin them.

Then he thought about a hooded figure with a god-killing sword and he stopped thinking for the day.

Tom, of all people, would be the one to know about eating flesh. Or, that’s what the others assumed. A zombie is a zombie, right? Hungry, yearning, surely he’d tried it once, had been curious enough?

But he didn’t know. He knew about craving, he knew about the desperate need to feel sated, but not the feeling of tearing and blood dripping-

He breathed out.

No, he didn’t know about dissolving flesh beneath his teeth. He knew about a sickly sweetness meant to hide ill-intent. He knew about that sharp, tart aftertaste of falling for a trick, of being the butt of the joke.

Tom swallowed heavily, mouth dry and throat sticky.

He knew-

- eyes that lingered on a man obsessed with purple-

-that sometimes things weren’t what they seemed. How-

- someone can change in an instant, from a detached sort, only interested in a request to lively, excited to see someone that was not you-

-you can think a certain way for a long, long time and still be proven wrong. That a fire can only burn as long as there is something keeping it alive. From firewood, to random kindling, to even the scraps of dead leaves floating down from the trees above.

Or fully blossomed poppies, deep red and gorgeous. Freshly picked with clumsy hands.

That was the point, wasn’t it? Despite how sweet Dianite had been, it meant nothing to him. It was all just scraps thrown Tom’s way to string him along, to make him believe he was valued.

To use him as Dianite had seen fit, to have him put pressure on Ianite. On Jordan. To cause enough ruckus and upset in Jordan that his faith- once so unshakable that it held through neglect, through death, through the harsh doubt that came with a goddess unknown- would be shaken.

To make Jordan feel as though Dianite would love him more than the goddess who had looked for him, waited for him, cherished him.

Tom grit his teeth. He wanted to convince himself he felt bad for Ianite. That he felt a hard and fast compassion for her, that there was a shred of good left in his heart to feel such a thing.

But he was jealous. Painfully so. Every time he had to vie for praise, for affection, for appreciation. Had to put himself out there, do more, be more, had to practically grovel at his god’s feet to get even flippant, uncaring praise.

All Jordan had to do was breathe. To let the gears in his robot brain tick endlessly forward. Have his thoughts always make sense and his memory perfect. He just had to read, and understand, and make things better than Tom could dream of.

Jordan was a captain, but he was also an engineer, a man dedicated to studying, to constant growth.

Tom was a pirate. He stole his success from tiny moments of happiness. Plundered the wealth of those around him to feel like he had any.

Time and time again, the world showed that it loved smarts over strength, but how easily had Jordan crumbled to temptation in the past? How many times had he fallen to petty tricks, to getting riled up, to being pushed a fraction of an inch outside his comfort zone?

Tom had done a lot of things he never thought he could.

He’d become friends with Karl after weeks of seeing Tucker- hell, even Sonja- in him, friends he had no guarantee of seeing ever again.

He’d settled his grievances with Mot despite the sick feeling of being replaced. Hadn’t he replaced Mot, though?

He’d fought friends. He’d fought himself. He’d fought his god.

Tom had chosen his friends over his god, who had meant everything to him.

An arrow hit its mark. He’d meant everything to him, yet nothing.

Tom didn’t feel fire in his veins anymore. Just that buzz. That hum. Whispers of something beyond this world. A tingle under his skin that felt like stars. Or, perhaps, the fuzz of the Void.

He’d turned his back on Dianite again. Of course he had. After all, that seemed to be the theme- forsaking your gods. Karl had done it-

- on accident, it was an accident. There was so much hurt in Karl’s eyes, so much fear. A voice had been whispering in Tom’s ear, but all he could focus on was the worry and concern in Karl’s eyes as Mianite flitted about erratically before them.

He shouldn’t have thrown down the armor-

-Jordan had done it, guess it was time for Tom to do it too.

And who better to turn to than Ianite? At least they could bond over being abandoned.

Somehow, he didn’t think it’d work out that easily. There was too much chaos in Tom, too much destruction and ruination and too much ready to explode. He was volatile, hurting, running on fumes of a fire long burnt out.

A gentle breeze caressed his face, pushing his hat up enough for him to peak out at the land around him. Purple caught his eye. Flowers, young and budding and barely there, had grown about him while he’d laid there.

Tom reached back up to pull his hat down once more. His head pounded. But instead of exploding, unleashing the torment he’d felt for years, tears trailed down his face.

There was a sniffle beside him and he knew he wasn’t alone.

That was a start, at least.

#mianite #Ianitee!Tom #Dianitee!Jordan #Mianitian Isles #Ianite #Dianite #pineapples used as a metaphor #angst #hurt #hurt little comfort

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odogaronfang · 5 years ago

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okay so i have some ideas about how the guild squad arc is going to resolve in the end so i put them all together :) it’s kinda long so it’ll be under a readmore but feel free to add any thoughts you have!!

okay unless there's something about the guild squad dark choco cookie hunt storyline i missed, we don't know where DC is going, right? but we know that they were in the dragon's valley, with or at least near pitaya, because pitaya mentions a cookie touched by darkness passing through the valley. that's not a very convenient location to travel to and probably not a great place to stay if you're unfamiliar with it, but they were there, meaning they may have looked for something, but they obviously didn't find it and so continued on their way.

and then right before the earthquake, yam says that he has a hunch about where DC was going and/or what they were looking for! and i know mango first introduces the additional dragon lore to milk and dino for story reasons because we the players are unfamiliar with it, but it's safe to say that mala knows about the dragons, and yam probably also knows something about it, whether that be from prior knowledge or from asking mala about them.

because DC was at least formerly royalty, we can expect them to have had a pretty thorough education, so DC may have also heard the legends of the dragons! and they went to dragon's valley to seek them out, but found that all of them had fled except for pitaya, so they may have tried to approach or investigate pitaya which is why pitaya knew they'd passed through. but pitaya wasn’t the dragon they wanted- they control “fire and brimstone” which overall isn’t very helpful to DC, so DC left the valley.

so what if.......... DC is seeking out the blue dragon for a wish! maybe to uncurse them! or they may even be looking for the violet dragon, who manipulates darkness- but i also like the idea of DC’s corruption being somehow tied to the violet dragon and not to dark enchantress, so maybe the violet dragon is trying to bring their “toy” back now that their power is waning?

and the interesting thing about all this is that mala and yam will likely encounter the blue dragon wherever they are, along with the ivory dragon, but milk and dino are (or were) near the violet dragon's island, so regardless of where DC might have gone, only half the squad (and half the people looking for them) will find them.

and with blueberry pie's city of wizards event, devsis has proven that they're willing to do a choose-your-adventure type of thing............... maybe you choose which half of the squad’s story to follow, and that determines who meets DC, and DC's fate (violet dragon or blue dragon) depends on that. and blue dragon/violet dragon is like good end/bad end for DC.

if they get the good end, they’ll be with yam, the guy who distrusts them and believes they’re evil and selfish, etc.

but if they get the bad end, presumably falling deeper into corruption and serving the darkness, they’ll be with milk, who's implied to be blindly idolizing them.

in the good end i imagine that DC frees themselves of the curse for good, either by using a wish from the blue dragon or by asking the ivory dragon what they need to do to be free and stay that way. and yam and mala probably encounter them right before or while they’re interacting with the dragons.

and i imagine DC sort of remembers yam because of the fight for the title and everything and they realize why yam must be after them and yam gives his whole monologue about what a piece of shit DC is but before they actually fight, DC willingly relinquishes the title.

like they admit that they should never have taken it and that they were in the wrong and that yam is more deserving of it, etc. and yam is like 'fine okay' and that’s that, and he's ready to bail on DC as soon as mala gets what SHE needs but like. yam knows that milk would be DEVASTATED if he found out that yam and mala had found DC but not brought DC to see him, and yam also won't lie or ask mala to lie if milk asks about DC.

so yam is like 'don't get me wrong i still hate you but we need you to come with us' and DC is like 'okay i have nothing better to do i guess' so like. assuming the wishes have parameters and they can't wish themselves to where milk and dino are, they ask the ivory dragon where and how to find them and then set off to meet back up with the rest of the squad.

i think mala still tags along because maybe the other two dragons tell her that they need all 5 dragons to heal the valley? idk it's an excuse to keep mala but anyway they have their journey and find milk and dino with the other dragons and i just picture like. mala stumbling upon where milk and dino are first and they're like Holy Shit Mala and she calls yam over and they're like Holy Shit We're Together Again but then DC comes through and milk is like HOLY SHIT DC and milk is like 'DARK CHOCO!!! I'VE BEEN LOOKING FOR YOU!!!' (completely not noticing like their emo outfit and their emo weapon and their missing eye because he's too excited)

but DC is just like '...who are you?'

and milk is kinda taken aback because he's thinking that DC MUST remember him, and he tries to remind DC of how they saved milk all that time ago but DC is just like 'i've had a lot of fights and i've killed and saved people in equal measure, i don't know who you are' and DC is tired and hurting and feeling ashamed and aimless so they don’t even TRY to be tactful about it and it CRUSHES milk

[insert the rest of story here] because i have ideas for the scene that follows but that’s too long and detailed for this post.

anyway bad end….. idk what exactly the violet dragon would do to DC, but it would probably involve making the curse more severe and probably making DC more malicious as a Just For Fun :) sort of thing, or maybe the violet dragon wants DC as a bodyguard and an agent of darkness now that their own power is fading (of course this depends on whether the violet dragon is evil or is cool and just happens to have an unfortunate domain of power).

so i just imagine like. milk and dino going to see the violet dragon, and since they're not as well-versed in the lore as mala is, they're not really sure what they're walking into (i don't think that ananas is willing to give them much help because of what they did to the island)

and as they’re making their way to the violet dragon's lair, they begin to see evidence of someone else passing through, and yam never got the chance to share his theory with milk but i think maybe milk began to get a similar idea? so he's like Dino Holy Fuck and they're following these tracks, which is convenient because it seems to be leading right to the dragon anyway!

i don't think that they ever really "see" the violet dragon, i imagine that they get around to the violet dragon's lair and DC is just. chilling outside, completely nonchalant, acting like nothing is wrong

like they’re just sitting on a rock outside kindling a campfire, sharpening their sword, and maybe the violet dragon is able to access their memories so that they see this old, vague memory with milk and they're like I Can Make A Trap Out Of This :)

the violet dragon sees this emissary of light approaching and doesn't want that shit so!! they can use their new toy to fix the problem :)

but they also don't want DC risking a fight where they’re outnumbered so DC is like (still basically possessed) '...milk? is that you?' and milk is THRILLED

DC invites milk and dino to stay with them around the campfire and talk, and promises that the next morning they'll all go to see the dragon together- but the dragon is actually intending to have DC kill milk and dino in their sleep.

so they sit around talking and DC is being pleasant and friendly, if a little quiet (the dragon is making them let milk and dino speak as a way of gathering information). and meanwhile mala and yam have reached their set of dragons and something just feels Wrong to both of them. some kind of intuition i guess. so i just imagine them frantically asking the ivory dragon what's going on with dino and milk and the ivory dragon thinks for a minute and then they're like 'your two friends are in immediate danger, and likely will not live to see the sun rise tomorrow'

and yam is like 'what kind of danger?????' and the ivory dragon describes DC and yam is like son of a fuck

and beforehand mala can ask or wish for what she needs because lesbian rights and she deserves it but idk they use their other wish from the blue dragon to get to dino and milk somehow but like :) just A Little Too Late to fully prevent everything :)

no one dies except maybe DC depending on how edgy you wanna be! i think jellysaur is on edge and growling and biting at DC every time they come near, because animals just have that Sense, so jellysaur wakes milk and dino just before DC can kill them, but there's still a fight before yam and mala are able to get to them :)

anyway i do have more thoughts but that’s for another time :)

#cookie run #cr ovenbreak #cookie run ovenbreak #purple yam cookie #milk cookie #mala sauce cookie #dinosour cookie #dark choco cookie #pitaya dragon cookie #ananas dragon cookie #idk if there are any other tags to use #please feel free to add or point things out!!#especially if i missed or forgot anything #even if it disproves this theory!! i doubt this will be canon

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arabellaflynn · 4 years ago

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For anyone who didn't catch it on other social media, I have finally moved out of the "temporary" apartment I was stuck in for 7 months, thanks to a lot of emotional and logistical support from friends, and a generous amount of financial support from the folks who gave to my GoFundMe. I am endlessly grateful to all of you, and if I weren't so goddamn tired right now I'd be more eloquent in saying so.

I've spent the past few weeks of unpacking and working out the bus routes around my new place trying to figure out how to explain what was so terrible about the last one. Most attempts devolved into page upon page of rage, which is not really what I want to be doing here. On the other hand, I also don't want to downplay how bad it was.

Spoiler: The temp apartment was Very Very Bad.

The tl;dr is that I was offered someone's spare room on the condition that I help out a little extra with household chores and caring for their rats, because the pet owning roommate had recently had back surgery and was still mobility-impaired. What actually happened is that as soon as they realized I had any basic life skills whatsofuckingever, I was cornered into becoming the 24/7 on-call House Adult. I would have gone on strike, but the other two people in the apartment were so terrible at coping with absolutely any aspect of being alive that if I had, one or both of them would probably be dead now.

That is not hyperbole. I sat back at one point and realized that I had talked to 911 dispatch five times in the preceding four months. None of those calls were for me. To be clear, I ain't mad about other people having medical problems. All five of those calls were appropriate and necessary uses of emergency services. I just resent the hell out of being the default option for handling all of it, even though none of the medical emergency problems were mine, and there were other people in the house. Literally, Short Roommate had a catastrophic asthma attack one night, and when she was wheezing too hard to talk she passed the phone to Tall Roommate -- who immediately ran to the other end of the apartment, banged on my door, and handed the phone to me. It got to the point where I just told the operator what was up, went downstairs to unlock the door for EMS, stood in the corner answering the occasional question until they hauled someone off to the hospital, and then went right back to bed, because none of this was my problem. And that's just the 911 calls, not even counting the number of times I had to talk her down out of a dissociative episode, or any of the other shit I was not warned about and did not volunteer to do. They wore me down until my only response to "a fellow human can't breathe" is "fuck's sake, why am I even involved here".

They both needed a lot more, and a lot more professional, help than they could possibly have gotten out of a random civilian roommate. They both fought tooth and nail against actually getting any of it. Every time Short Roommate was dragged to the hospital, her discharge papers included a big fat packet full of social services, resources, and business cards for actual physical people to phone. I know this because whenever I cleaned the apartment, I found them on the fucking floor, whereupon I placed them on her fucking keyboard, and told her point-blank to call these people. As far as I know, she never did.

I am neither qualified nor equipped to be a live-in caregiver for anybody. There is a fucking reason I have never wanted children. I keep critters because if you give them food, water, toys, and boxes to sleep in, you can leave them to entertain themselves for hours while you work or sleep, and no one will arrest you.

There was a bunch of other stuff. Tall Roommate rarely if ever cleaned anything, including herself, unless directly ordered to do so and given a detailed list of instructions of what you meant by "clean". I only ever got her to wash her own damn dishes once, and I did it by messaging her from the other room 'I just found a mouse in the sink eating snacks off your dirty plates GO DO YOUR DISHES'. She had a laundry list of problems, but the relevant one here is that she was high-support-needs autistic with no support and zero inclination to find any.

[Did I mention the mice? We had mice. All over. The rats murdered two of them when they got into the cages, looking for the free-feed bowl.]

Short Roommate clearly loved her rats but didn't actually do any of the rat care beyond petting and playing. One of them was tremendously sick at one point and needed meds q6h. She was supposed to be helping with that and didn't, which meant that I went several weeks on a maximum of six hours of uninterrupted sleep a night. I tore the fuck into her for that one, pointing out in exactly so many words that some of these meds were painkillers and if the rat didn't get them on time HE SUFFERS. Not doing any of the grunt work, Short Roommate evidently thought rats were so easy she should just keep getting more of them! She rescued two, one of whom was preggo, kept several of the babies, and started talking about waiting for one of the girls to grow up so she could breed him with one of her younger boys.

Gentle Reader, I promise you the only reason I did not strangle her in her sleep that very night was that I knew, deep in my heart, that I could not move the body down two flights of stairs by myself, and if I left it up to Tall Roommate, the corpse would still be in the apartment today.

If I were inclined to any sympathy, it would have died when Short Roommate moved out to shack up with New Boyfriend and New Boyfriend's Mother. She initially took all the rats with her, which made them officially not my problem anymore, but I woke up one morning to a message that said something like "[New Boyfriend's Mother] says that if I show up to our new place with the rats she's not going to let me in, [Tall Roommate] is coming back with all the rats and everything they own". I found out later that this was because their new place was in section 8 housing, where you are not allowed to have pets that aren't service or support animals. Which Short Roommate had known the entire time, and just... made no plans for. At all. Unless "ignore everything until bitchslapped by reality, then panic and make unreasonable demands of other people" counts, I guess.

Eight rats. She dumped eight rats on me. Eight. I wound up taking care of them all without help; Tall Roommate was incapable of keeping anything in her habitat clean, including herself, and I wasn't willing to let her neglect animals. I was actually down to one rat of my own, having lost my two venerable old men, and was looking for a new friend or two for Tseng. Which I had to stop doing, because nine fucking rats is a lot of rats, and I couldn't in good conscience bring Rats nos. 10 & 11 into this shitshow. Naturally, none of the rats got along; two pairs of boys had to be kept apart, and both of them tried to pick fights with poor Tseng, and four of them were girls that had to be kept away from all of the boys for obvious reasons. It was exhausting and a catastrophe.

Once I had the rats she apparently made no further effort to re-home them, although she did keep telling Tall Roommate to come knock on my door and take pictures of them. (I put a stop to this. Tall Roommate did it because Short Roommate had broken up with her to shack up with New Boyfriend, and Tall Roommate had literally no way to cope with this other than try desperately to get her back.) I bugged her to do something about this until, predictably, I had to contact the local rat rescue people to find fosters less than a week before my moving crew was scheduled. When I told her, she replied "oh, I was just about to submit that". Sure you were. And while you're here, I have this nice bridge to sell you.

[The four girls and two youngest boys went to Mainely Rat Rescue. It looks like the boys have already found a home, but the girls are up for adoption. I kept the two old men, who both have special care needs; Garion has breathing problems that involve his own asthma inhaler and a steady diet of NSAIDs, and Errand has attitude problems that involve picking fights with any rat who isn't Garion. They're both just shy of three(!) and unlikely to find homes through a foster program, plus I'm already their third caretaker, so I couldn't send them off with a stranger. They are currently sulking because I wouldn't supplement their dinner with all of my dinner -- which is to say, they're fine.]

The point is, my brain just about died off. The only time in that apartment that I didn't spend cleaning up after three grown adults, two of whom weren't even me, were the weeks after Short Roommate moved out to shack up with New Boyfriend, which she had broken up with Tall Roommate to do, and Tall Roommate took it so badly she ended up inpatient before she ate a bottle of Tylenol. (I called 911 when I overheard her plans. It was about 50% "a fellow human is in need of help" and 50% "argh jesus fuck THIS IS NOT MY JOB please go talk to someone who is actually paid to deal with this".) I am slowly clawing my way back to the surface, so if you'll just bear with me, I'll be back on Twitch this Sunday 3-7 Eastern, and type out more things that have been on hold while I tried to retain at least some of my marbles.

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gingerpeachtae · 6 years ago

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Concentric [Prologue]

masterlist

Words: 1.5k

Genres: fantasy!AU, angst, fluff, enemies to lovers, eventual smut (?)

Warnings: blood, violence, implied death

Summary: You had been ready for the end of the semester. You had been ready to spend time away from your best friend, Jimin, and finally move on from the feelings you harbored. Yet, after your friend was forced to reveal a secret, you found yourself in a new world that was chock full of magic, war, and wonder. So, here you were, basically thrown into your own fantasy novel, with your best friend on one side, and six male warriors on the other.

A/N: Hewwo everyone! So this is the very first piece of writing I am every posting! WOHOO! Please read and send any advice, suggestions, or what have you. The prologue does not contain any BTS members, but the first chapter will! (I am SO close to being done with it! So I will do my best to post ASAP) PLS ENGOY :) *revamped/edited on 2/26/20

Winter is a delicate season. Intricate snowflakes, gentle snowfalls, and a good-natured chill to the air. This winter was different, though. This winter was not delicate, gentle, or good-natured. No, this winter was nothing like that. It was barren, savage, deadly. Snow so cold it stung, attacking like sharp needles wherever it found a chink in the armor of winter gear. Wind so violent it shook the world as it screeched and groaned past the skeletal trees. Landscape so blank it became an endless and untouched canvas of black and white. Brutal. Vicious. Unforgiving. A spiteful side of Opitax that had never previously revealed itself.

Amarok had never seen anything like it in his entire existence. He had seen many seasons pass, and although there were times the hunt became quite difficult, there was always game if one truly knew how to look. Truly knew how to see the world. The craft of finding the wild thrumming of energy within even the faintest of tracks. The hunter was innately grateful to have this knowledge during the past few weeks as this season had proven to be a challenge, and while it had not been his best hunt, he was not trudging back empty-handed either.

Amarok was eager to be home, to be in the warmth of his wooden cabin and love of his wife and daughter. He smiled behind his face mask at the thought of seeing his little one excitedly shouting for him at his return and running to be swept up in his arms. Fond memories of hoisting her atop his shoulders as his wife laughed from the doorway caused him to release a chuckle that barely reached his ears over the rampaging wind. Although he anticipated stepping foot into the small clearing that contained his home, he prayed what he brought back would be enough to last his family the rest of this harsh season.

Stumbling as he crested a hill, the hunter peered through the obscuring white and saw the smoke from his cabin. From where his family was waiting for him. Yet, as he neared closer, the smoke became thick and dense. It was more than what should be puffing out of the chimney. Much more. It was intermingling with the white snow, dancing and curling with the wind. Clogging his lungs. He did not smell the familiar sweetness of gojcha nuts roasting above the fire, as they usually did at his return. Nor did he hear his wife’s lullaby voice drifting through the air or his daughter’s innocent giggles echoing off the thousands of trees.

Instead, he caught the unmistakable and repulsive scent of burnt flesh and dying embers.

Heart dropping, Amarok darted forward toward his home, dropping his kills as he ran. The carcasses of rabbits, fox, and coon left behind like a breadcrumb trail of bloody meat. Without the heavy load burdening him, the hunter reached the opening of land where his cabin stood within mere minutes.

Where his cabin had stood.

Choking as the black smoke invaded his lungs and further blocked his vision, Amarok tripped over a clump of smoldering rubble. The world turned to black and white and nothing in between as the hunter gripped his head in strain and confusion. As he was about to start calling for his wife and daughter, he heard a shrill cry. Hope erupted in his chest as he made haste toward the scream, failing to realize the tone was not that of a female or child.

Following the still-present screams, Amarok quickly found an unknown male covered in soot and torn clothing, cowering among the trees. The confused and worried hunter yanked the stranger upright by his disintegrating shirt and pinned him against the nearest trunk.

“What happened!?” Amarok panicked, his breathing becoming unstable. “Where’s my family!?”

The stranger’s screams faded into blubbering, unable to properly utter a word. “I-I was lost and b-bleeding and she…”

“Gods dammit!” Amarok punched the bark beside the stranger’s head, causing him to yelp. “What happened!?”

“Sh-She offered to let me stay the night. But w-wolves must have caught scent of my blood and they came.”

“No.” Amarok let go of the stranger and slowly backed away, shaking his head and closing his eyes in disbelief as the stranger’s words settled over him.

He knew that predators got bolder when the food supply waned, especially wolf packs. He’d heard stories of them attacking hunters when they ventured too far into the darkness of Opitax’s shadow. But he had never heard of them attacking a cabin.

It was a savage winter indeed.

“They came w-when the little girl was still outside…”

Returning his gaze to the male, Amarok could see he had crumbled to the ground and was desperately clutching the base of the tree.

Gritting his teeth, Amarok stormed back up to the male and grabbed his shivering form to wrench him upright once more.

Tightening his grip on the cowering stranger, the hunter was torn between wanting to physically squeeze the story out of the male’s body and wanting to bring him to permanent silence.

“What in Illai’s name happened?”

“They got the little girl b-before we even realized they were here, then she tried fighting them off with a t-torch, but they got her too. I ran and climbed up a tree to get on the roof before they got me next. They left not too long after that.”

“No. No. No! NO!” Amarok repeated the word over and over and over until his voice grew hoarse, the coward of a man whimpering with each of the anguished wails.

Amarok thought of his sweet Omara, his delicate Sawna. He gagged on a sob that escaped to freedom beyond his lips. He should have been here to protect them. To save them.

His hands dropped away from the stranger’s body and began to tremble.

“The torch dropped on the hay and kindling… th-the house went up so fast I didn’t think I would make it out,” The stranger took his head in his hands, rocking himself back and forth as he muttered to himself. “I-I barely made it out. I made it out. I made it out.”

Amarok collapsed to his knees. His legs could no longer support him with this news, not with this devastation. Oddly, he did not feel lost. All he felt was fury as his world crumbled into ashes and joined the black smoke dancing around him. He began to be consumed by an unspeakable and uncontrollable urge to wreak havoc upon the world and everything that lived on it. Because everything now meant nothing, and he longer cared for it. He had nothing left to protect and hold dear. Where there was once light and warmth was now only the freezing dark and its white emptiness. There was only the smoke and the snow and the charred remains of his soul.

The hunter’s head suddenly jerked back to the stranger who was trying to stumble away from the misery he had caused. Still muttering to himself. Still rocking his body in self-comfort. Still holding his head. Amarok slowly rose from his knees and began to stalk after his new prey, and unlike the past few weeks, it was not a long hunt.

Grabbing the stranger by the back of his neck, Amarok heaved and threw his body onto the frozen ground. The once smooth and flawless ice now jagged and sharp as it fractured outward from the concentric point of a limp body’s impact. Blood slowly crept into the crevices, painting a crimson flower that bloomed fuller with each passing heartbeat.

A little red to join Amarok’s now black and white world.

A sadistic smile inched its way onto the hunter’s face as he kicked the stranger onto his back, placing the blood leaking out of the male’s temple and mouth in full view. Amarok had caught his prey, but the death blow wouldn’t come just yet. He still needed something from the weak shrivel of a male, which is why he did not reach for the dagger attached to his waist.

Surrounded by the splintered ice, the stranger struggled to bring air back into his lungs, chest spasming with his attempts. Not feeling any sympathy, Amarok knelt over the stranger and slowly encased the male’s neck with his hand before asking where the beasts went. He did not yell or hit the stranger, just glared with such cold, empty hatred that the male shuttered as he tried to claw at the hand now encircling his throat.

The stranger’s legs thumped an erratic beat against the icy earth, his eyes frantic and overflowing with small rivers of crimson. With heavy effort, he managed to lift his hand and weakly point eastward before his entire body sagged into unconsciousness. Sighing in disappointment, Amarok released the stranger’s throat and gazed to the east with narrowed eyes. His raw anger and pain still thrashed inside of him like a wild animal, begging to be released. Begging to be allowed the satisfaction of tearing apart the world. But the hunter contained it. At least until he got to the creatures who did it, he told himself.

Letting out a low growl, he gathered the unconscious male on top of his shoulders. Then, with a set jaw, Amarok started on his path away from the setting sun and into the depth of Opitax’s shadow.

next [1]

#concentric #bts #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts jungkook #bts jimin #fantasy!bts #fantasy!au #jimin x reader #jungkook x reader #reader insert #bts series #enemies to lovers #slow burn #bts x reader #bts ot7 #ot7 x reader #bts fanfiction #jeongguk x reader

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hitchell-mope · 5 years ago

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(Film three. In Auradon. Bal’s apartments in the castle. After “best day of my life”. Mal’s in a pair of Ben’s boxer shorts and a doctor who T-shirt. Standing there)

Ben (looping his arms around her waist): hey

Mal: hey. How are you?

Ben: good. Good. And you

Mal: oh so much better now (she turns around) and is this all for me?

Ben: mmmmmmaybe?

Mal: well I greatly appreciate it whoa

(She’s turned around to get a better look at him. He’s, just like her. In boxers. Longish purple hair. And literally nothing else)

Mal: oooh I’m feeling very matchy matchy and very much mismatched

Ben: well there are two ways of remedying that. I could put a top on. OR. I could lock the door and soundproof the room and

Mal: lock the door I’ll soundproof

Ben (very happy): okay

Mal: oh my god!

(Under Ben’s shoulder blades are two jagged cuts from which are growing beating miniature mounds of flesh in a dark blue colour)

Ben: what’s wrong?

Mal: your back!

Ben: what! What is it. What’s wrong?

Mal: I. I. II don’t. Know. It looks like somethings growing out of your back

Doug (walking in briskly with Evie right begins): it’s probably dragon wings. The ember sped up the process I think

Mal: and how do you know that?

Doug: Hierachy And History: all levels of magic and their effects and uses. First edition illustrated.

Bal: can I?

Doug: yes you can borrow it. Hell. Keep it. I’ve got plenty

Mal: how do you know all this?

Doug: I uh bought literally every book about magic when you brought it back. Physical copies and on kindle

Mal: ohhhh. For a minute I thought you were mansplaining to us.

Evie: he’s not chad. He actually knows things. And why the hell aren’t you dressed?

Mal: well sis. We almost died a couple of hours ago so Ben and I were about to engage in a bit of glad to be alive

Evie: eww shut up

Mal: oh like you and Doug haven’t

Evie: that’s besides the point.

Mal: why are you here?

Evie: why do you think. Ben put a top on or something

Bal: no

Ben: I’m comfortable

Mal: I’m relaxed when he’s like this

(Evie sighs and looks defeated)

Doug: so what’s the plan

Mal: yeah about that. I’ve been thinking and I think I’ve connected the dots

Doug: oh?

Mal: yeah and it’s got to do with you and I sis

Evie (horrified): no

Mal: yah

Evie: no

Mal: yeah

Evie: nonono

Mal: yesyesyes

Evie: NO!

Mal: yes! Face it E we might be related

The boys: what?

Mal: think about it. Our mothers are the most self centred vainglorious batshit crazy bitches that side of the river Tiber. They would want the most powerful. Chernabog is a recluse and an altruist. The headless horseman has no mouth so can’t sing their praises. So all that’s left is the god of the dead

Evie: but I’m beautiful

Mal: and what am I. Corned beef?

Ben: I’d still marry you if you were corned beef if that helps

Mal: it does help surprisingly

Evie: but didn’t Maleficent say your dad was human?

Mal: villains lie E. That’s why I was always a disappointment

(Ben hugs her)

Adam (sauntering in like he owns the place): well isn’t that sweet.

Evie: what the hell are you doing here?

Adam: I’ve come to discuss the appalling situation that you let happen.

Mal: I’m sorry?

Adam: so you should be. Ben I have a plan. Put them all back and close it permanently

Doug: what

Adam: go back to the mine. It’s where you belong dwarf

Ben: ok you get out.

Adam: what?

Ben: you heard me. You’re not king. And you have no control over me my actions or my friends. So please. Get out

Adam: fine. But you should at least hear what happening since you had to have him save you

Doug: my names Doug but go on.

Adam: the people are in a panic. They’re terrified. If hades can escape others will try to. If you ask me

Bal and Devie: we didn’t

Adam: if you ask me I personally think it’s high time you do away with this ridiculous endeavour once and for all

Ben: no.

Adam: I wasn’t talking to you boy. I was talking to the future queen. Your people are scared. And even the poor are scared they lash out. Either way you’ll end up back where you cane from. You Carlos and the rest of the technicolour freaks that are destroying the property values that I painstakingly created. You are a “vk” are you not?

Mal: I’m not uh I uhm I don’t consider myself a vk anymore

Adam: then who? That is who you are right. Cradle to grave and all that rhetoric. Face it Mal. You are not an Auradon girl.

Elsa: oh you are so right beast. My daughter is not an Auradon girl. She’s the soon to be the queen of Auradon and isle AND she’s the princess of Arendelle. So that’s three titles to your zero. Meaning you’d do well to shut up

Adan: to what do I owe this...thing

Elsa: my daughter was hurt. So I’m checking on her. Like you should be doing for Ben. Or has belle finally ridding herself if you rendered you void of the most basic compassion for your son as well as everything else?

Adam: as I was saying. If my reasonable suggestion goes unheeded the people will rise up and there’s (a phone blasts out “backstreets back”) OH WHAT NOW!

Ben: it’s my cell phone. Doug would you be a dear and grav it for me

Doug: sure. But only if you put a top on?

Ben: I’ll think about it

(Doug snickers and answers the phone)

Doug: king Ben’s personal cell phone the major-domo speaking. Yes. Yes. Oh shit. Thank you for informing us (he hangs up) the wand, the spindle, Jafar’s staff and the magic mirror have been stolen from the museum

Bal, Elsa and Evie: what?

Mal: when?

Doug: two hours ago. There’s no security footage. The cameras were busted. Ten guards are dead. Two have had the hearts crushed. The rest were cut to pieces by glads shards

Adam: ok then. It’s decided. Round them up. I’ll get the trucks ready. We can have you and them all back by sundown

Elsa: you realise who you’re sounding like right now?

Adam: the only sane man. As it has been for years. Now Mal my dear. Your choice. Anarchy or order. Where’d she go

(Mal’s teleported away)

Evie: you poked the dragon.

Ben: I’ll go after. See if she’s ok

Elsa: no I will. This is a mother’s job

(She teleports after Mal and finds her in the dining room hyperventilating)

Mal: I can’t do it. I I can’t

(Elsa pulls her into a cool down hug)

Elsa: shhh shhh now. Don’t listen to him.

Mal: but he’s right. I’m going to be the queen. I should be thinking about these things. And ten people are dead. And some nutbag has some of the most powerful magical relics in existence

Elsa: but you still have the book and the sceptre. And the book. And if your hunch is correct. You’re half god. So

Mal: so, what?

Elsa: so...beast cannot lay a hand on you or Ben or anyone you care about. Not without your say so.

Mal: so what you’re saying is I hold all the cards

Elsa: essentially yes

Mal (weak laugh): why doesn’t that make me feel better

Elsa: because your upbringing had left you scarred and unable to make decisions that could impact people you care about

Mal: ... harsh but true

Elsa: listen

(This is when “brave” happens)

Mal: I can be brave. I can tell Adam where to stick it.

Elsa: I’ll supply the barge pole

Mal (cackling): please let me see that when it happens

Elsa: hmmmmm maybe

(Back in bal’s living room)

Evie: you’ve hated us all since the moment we arrived. You couldn’t stand the fact Ben chose my sister over the Hunan balloon animal you picked out.

Adam: sometimes the parent really does know best

Evie: said Gothel. Said Madame Mim. Said Jafar, Cruella, my mother, Yzma, Gaston, Maleficent and every single shitty parent we had to deal with over there. You’ve joined their ranks plain and simple

Adam: I am not one of them. You are. Upsetting the well defined status quo on a whim.

Ben: you were a bastard of a father and now you’re a bastard of a human being. The kingdom has me now. And I shan’t make the same mistakes errors and blatant crimes against humanity that you did

Adam: then you’ll be a disappointment as king.

Evie: oh for once in your life shut up and let others speak

Adam: PRETTY THINGS SHOULD SIT STILL AND REMAIN SILENT!

Evie: oh there’s my mother again. Doug honey did you know that she said that exact same thing to me when I stared talking?

Doug: oh my god I’m so sorry.

Evie: eh don’t be. I’m over it. Well mostly. But the fact that this idiot is saying it says plenty about his perceived moral superiority

Adam: if you can’t listen to reason I can always force you.

Evie: once again. My mother. Maleficent. Gaston. Jafar. Cruella. Mim. Medusa. Yzma. Hearts. Need I go on?

(In Ursula’s grotto Uma’s working on something)

V!Harry: what are you doing. Well. I know what you’re doing. I’m you. I’m just asking for the benefit of those out there

Uma: who?

Harry: nothing. Don’t worry.

Uma: ugh whatever. I’m working on an escape. If she thinks she can stop me she’s sorely mistaken

(This is when “speechless” happens)

(Mal bursts back in to the room)

Mal: alright here’s what’s going to happen. Ben, Evie you guys still wanna continue with the program?

Ben: yes

Evie: absolutely

Mal: then you do that. Because, Adam, we aren’t closing the barrier. You got that?

Adam: I really don’t think

Mal: I don’t care what you think. Nobody here cares what you think. You’re no longer king. Hence superfluous to the narrative. You’re nothing. The chain of command goes Ben, Doug, me, Evie

Evie: uh excuse me?

Doug: sorry hon. She’s right.

Ben: yeah. King, major-domo, queen, chancellor.

Evie: shit

Mal: so you can scream shout moan complain. But we’re not closing off the island. EVER!

Adam: you’ll regret this.

Mal: pretty sure we won’t.

(Adam stalks off)

Mal (immediately deflating): man I need a drink. Amethyst wine anyone?

Evie: do I even wanna know?

Mal: probably not.

Ben: it’s great. Just like the butter bars

(Evie turns green around the gills)

Doug: I’m probably gonna regret this but what’s in it

Mal: white wine. Vodka. A quarter pound of sugar. And it’s all mixed together with juiced violets. Hence the colour

Evie: that sounds disgusting.

Ben: oh it is. But we made it with magic so the potency is through the roof

Doug: meaning?

Ben: meaning it’ll get you blackout

Mal: shitfaced

Bal: blindingly drunk

Evie (forcing back a disgusted look): ahahaha. I’ll pass

Bal: suit yourself

(They commence drinking. In the isle chadeficent is looking on as Ursula goes belly up)

Chadeficent: need some help?

Ursula: my wretch of a daughter blew up my grotto and escaped with that mouth breathing pirate spawn. Of course I need help

(Chadeficent sends eerie magic hands, the exact type that ripped out Ariel’s voice, plucks out Ursula and drops her on the pier)

Ursula: now that that’s all settled. Who the hell are you

Chadeficent (now only using Maleficent’s voice): you tell me sea witch.

Ursula (unsurprised): you’ve literally never looked worse

Chadeficent (in Chad’s voice): hey watch it bitch!

Ursula: excuse me

Chadeficent (still in Chad’s voice): I mean seriously you look like a desaturated smurf.

Ursula (eyes glowing teal): Do you wanna say that again kid?

Chadeficent (in Maleficent’s voice): no he does not

Ursula (smirking): who’s body?

Chadeficent (both voices now): the son of Cinderella

Ursula: oooh a new meal?

Chadeficent: no. A tool (Maleficent’s voice) in more ways then one

Ursula: how’d you get here.

Chadeficent (both voices): the elongated horseless carriage

Ursula: so the limo

Chadeficent: yes.

Ursula (very much unimpressed): mhmm. Why are you back?

Chadeficent: I’m starting a coven. I assume you want in?

Ursula: eh what the hell. Wouldn’t be the first time we teamed up to ruin lives

Chadeficent: remember when we ruined for children’s lives simultaneously?

Ursula (mad): oh you mean that time my daughter was publicly humiliated and gained a dehumanising epithet all because your daughter acted out in anger at something the witches daughter did that left the freckled thing to be tortured by the furrier for a month?

Chadeficent: yes

Ursula (bark laughing): HA. Good times good times. So. What’s the plan

Chadeficent: we are going to break my daughter

Ursula: mind? Body? Soul? Spirit?

Chadeficent: all four

(In Auradon. Adam’s just sat down at the bar of a tavern)

Adam: double scotch on the rocks

Bartender: coming right up sir

Adam: never have kids Moliere

Bartender: my names not Moliere sir

Adam (not even listening): you raise them. You teach them. You impart your wisdom. Your values. And what do they do? Take a giant steaming shit on all you worked on and turn everything completely upside fucking down in the name of goddamn “progress”. Know what I’m saying?

Bartender: ohhhhkay?

(Adam gets off the stool and starts the jukebox. This is when “gold” starts.)

Bartender (very very scared now): sir. Your majesty are you ok?

Adam (pensively): no. No I’m not a majesty. Not anymore. Well. Not yet at least.

(He runs out of the tavern without paying)

Customer: what the hell was that all about?

Bartender: I don’t know. But I have a feeling little benny needs a warning.

#disney descendants #zendaya!mal

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the-ronan-cycle · 6 years ago

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Diverse Book Recs

I recently typed up a list of books for a friend who said she’d stopped reading because she couldn’t find diverse/queer books. This list is predominately focused on queer diversity but there’s also lot’s of super awesome ladies and poc here too. The list is also in two parts, the first are all books that I’ve read myself and include me trying to give a summary, content warnings (If I can remember, I can’t guarantee they’re all exhaustive.) and a rating. The second part has books on my to read list that, to my knowledge, have queer characters. All of the titles are linked to their goodreads page.

I Was Born For This - Alice Oseman

A Hijabi ace fangirl goes to London on a week long trip to meet her internet friend and go to the concert of her favourite band. Jimmy, the trans, gay, mixed race, mentally ill singer for said band is figuring out how growing up famous has changed himself and his friends. They cross paths and stuff happens. A really interesting look into fan culture, both the good and the bad. Really fun characters and relationships. Written by the same person who does the Heartbreaker webcomic. CW: alcoholic behavior, brief mention of unintentional trans outing 4.5/5

The Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater

Welsh mythology meets small town Virginia. Gorgeous, poetic writing by Stiefvater tells the surreal story of a group of teenagers on the search for a lost welsh king and wish foretold if one wakes him. Along the way they discover the power of ley lines, dreams, and ~friendship~. One of the main characters (my favourite character) is canon queer (he’s into a girl and guy but like, the word bi isn’t explicitly said) and one of the other main characters is canon gay. It’s a difficult story to describe but it’s such a fascinating read. CW: child abuse, alcohol and drug abuse, there’s a scene in the second book that I think the author confirmed was sexual assault 5/5

Shades of Magic Series - V.E. Schwab

Avatar the last airbender meets pirates and royalty and multiverses. In this world there are 4 earths that intersect at London. Kell is one of the only two people who can travel between Londons. Grey London is our world, Red London is Kell’s, full of magic. White London is a wasteland barren of magic and ruled by bloodthirsty twins. Black London is dead. The main cast of Kell, Lila Bard, a pirate thief who gets caught up in the adventure, Rhy, the (gay? Bi? I forget lol) prince of Red London, and Alucard, (also gay? Or bi?) actual pirate have to save the multiverse! Lots of great subplots, written by a queer woman and impossible to put down. If you saw me with my kindle in class after winter last year, it was because I literally couldn’t stop reading. CW: frankly it’s been too long since I read it im sorry 5/5

Leah on the Offbeat/Simon vs the Homosapiens Agenda - Becky Albertalli

Simon Vs is the book Love Simon is based on. Simon (gay) has a mystery pen pal, Blue. All he knows is that Blue also goes to Creekwood High and is gay. But Simon leaves the emails open on a school computer because he’s a dumbass and then also an ass but the bad kind, Martin finds them and blackmails Simon. It’s similar to the movie but I prefer the book! There are some scenes and plot points that didn’t make it in. Also his friends don’t suck as much when he’s outed. Leah on the OffBeat is the sequel about Simon’s friend, Leah. She’s bi! Simon thought all his friends were straight but jkjkjk gays flock together. Cute wlw high school story. CW: character is outed against their will, underage drinking SVTHA 5/5 LOTO 4/5

The Gentleman’s Guide to Vice and Virtue - Mackenzi Lee

Main character is a total slut and we support him. Bi and ready to party. But wait it’s the 1800s and that’s not super chill. In a final hurrah before he has to become master of his family estate, Henry Montague takes his best friend (gay and also ready to party) and, reluctantly, his little sister (ace and ready to be a doctor) on a tour of the continent. Along the way they discover a plot and their trip turns upside down. There’s pirates! Period accurate medicine! Characters unlearning their prejudices! CW: Child abuse, period typical homophobia, sexism and racism 4/5

Captive Prince Trilogy - C.S. Pacat

hEAR ME OUT. This is probably my favourite series I’ve ever read. You’ve heard of enemies to lovers? Get ready for enemies to friends to lovers to enemies to allies to lovers! Crown Prince Damianos of Akielos is caught up in a coup lead by his half brother and sent to the enemy nation of Vere to be a pleasure slave for their crown prince, Laurent. Now here you think it’s gonna be some kinky sex romp but it actually becomes the best political intrigue with a thoughtful, loving, very vanilla romance. “If you gave me your heart, I would treat it tenderly”. Dw they only have sex after the whole slave thing is over. Also, they abolish slavery so there’s that. If you don’t like the first book, I get it but just try the second book, the tone changes with the change of setting. The author does some really interesting stuff with her setting. Typically writers will just make society reflect our by default but Pacat threw that out, homophobia? Never heard of her. In Vere it’s actually taboo for men and women to have sex before marriage because of the threat of bastards. So everyone just is gay instead. You want a matriarchal warrior women country? Pacat has got your back. The series does lack in well written women. There are a few women but not enough, Pacat has talked about this and is basically like, u right, I’ll do better in my next series. Written by a queer WOC (kinda? Woc is the wrong word but just read these tweets where she describe it better than i ever could) and I love it, the end. CW: child abuse, child sexual abuse, incest, rape, sex slavery, prostitution, graphic violence, non consensual drug consumption, child death, suicide, torture, animal death (also it should be obvious but none of these things are glorified, the abuser is the worst and he sucks and everyone hates him) 6/5

Carry On - Rainbow Rowell

Based on the Harry Potter parody series from Rowell’s book Fangirl. Simon Snow (doesn’t ever figure out his sexuality but had a girlfriend and boyfriend) is the chosen one, orphaned and brought to a magical boarding school, must save magical britain from evil. His best friend, book smart Penelope and his (possibly evil and a vampire? Also gay) roommate Baz must work together to defeat the humbug. This book has a really fantastic closed magic system and gives the character very clear limits. CW: rat death? 5/5

Queer There and Everywhere - Sarah Prager

A nonfiction book about 23 people throughout history that were both queer and very cool. From Frida Kahlo and Abraham Lincoln to the actual Danish Girl and Kristina Vasa, Prager dives into the lives of many historical figures who were also queer. A really wide gamut of women, men and nb, cis and trans, white and poc. Could have had more historical figures from the east. A fun, easy read. Made me cry, i want lesbian moms. 4/5

Huntress - Malinda Lo

It’s been a few years since I read this so bear with me. Cool magic girl main character and less magic but also cool other girl as well as a misfit group including the prince and a badass lady named shae (hell yeah) have to go into the fae world to right the magical imbalance of their world. Wlw, written by a queer woc CW: I don’t remember sorry 4/5

Outrun the Wind - Elizabeth Tammi

(I’m actually only half way through this) (Also it’s written by a mutual of mine on tumblr so that’s tight) A queer retelling of the greek myth of Atalanta. Atalanta (bi) is taken by the hunters of Artemis and has to help them defeat Apollo who’s being shitty. Wlw, written by a bi lady CW: animal death

Iron Breakers trilogy - Zaya Feli

Bastard Prince (queer), Ren, is happy to be out of the line of succession and just party it up but suddenly is framed for the murder of his brother and on the run along with a prisoner who escaped with him. Ren is faced with realities of y’know, not being a prince and decides to help save his country. Political intrigue with some twists I didn’t guess. MLM CW: slavery, graphic violence 4.5/5

All for the Game trilogy - Nora Sakavic

Think dark, queer, sports anime but with a co-ed team. Neil Josten (demi sexual- “which way do you swing? “I don’t?”) is on the run from his mob boss, murderer father and finds himself on the collegiate exy team of the palmetto foxes. Exy, a violent cross between lacrosse and soccer is Neil’s favourite thing but the team is made up of misfits. Neil has to survive both his father and the Raven’s (another exy team) owner, another mob boss, coming for him and his team. Super fast paced, very intense, after the first book I couldn’t put it down. The characters are all super interesting as are the relationships. Multiple mlm relationships, one briefly mentioned wlw couple CW: (o boy here we go) suicide, graphic violence, graphic torture, non consensual drug consumption, alcohol and drug abuse, prescription drug abuse, non consensual kissing, rape, child sexual abuse, sex work, mention of gay conversion therapy, discussion of self harm and self harm scars, child abuse 4.5/5

The Posterchildren - Kitty Burroughs

It’s been years since I read this so I really don’t remember much. It’s about a school for superheroes. Definitely wlw I don’t remember any else 4/5

Six of Crows Duology - Leigh Bardugo

A misfit group of criminals is hired to travel north to break into an impregnable prison. The cast of characters is lovable and the plot is fast paced. It’s set in the same universe as Bardugo’s first series but you don’t need to read them. (I did and they were ok but six of crows is better). Two of the main characters are mlm. CW: gore, graphic violence, child abuse 4.5/5

The Percy Jackson Series and Magnus Chase Series

I don’t need to describe these lol. PJO has two canon gay characters, the most recent series has lesbian and ace huntresses of artemis, and a bi main character. Magnus Chase has a non binary main character starting in the second book.

On My To-Read List:

Orlando - Virginia Woolf

I love her writing, it’s poetic without hurting my brain to read. This is a classic queer novel. It’s been said that Woolf wrote it as a “love letter” to Vita, her lover. The main character changes gender throughout the novel.

Stars in Her Eyes - Clare C. Marshall

I bought a copy of the first book in this series from the author at a convention last summer. It’s about a school for people with powers. I asked and apparently there’s a queer character but you don’t find out til the second book.

Ash - Malinda Lo

A wlw retelling of cinderella by the same author as Huntress.

The Academy Journals - Garrett Robinson

Apparently there’s trans, lesbian, gay, poly, ace, bi, pan! It’s about a magical school. It has really good reviews on goodreads so that’s promising

The Abyss Surrounds Us - Emily Skrutskie

There’s gay lady space pirates. Actually maybe not space? Idk i got space vibes

Vicious/Vengeful - V.E. Schwab

A story about moral greyness and supervillains. Kinda reminds me of Nimona tbh. I heard the main character is ace?

Our Bloody Pearl - D.N. Brynn

There’s mermaids, and pirates, and it’s gay apparently. The main character uses they them pronouns I think.

Breaking Legacies - Zoe Reed

Fantasy wlw by a trans dude (i think? They went through some sort of gender transition but i can’t find their pronouns)

The Dark Wife - S.E. Diemer

A wlw retelling of Hades and Persephone

The High Court Series - Megan Derr

Fantasy political intrigue mlm and I was told the main character is trans

Btw my rating system was basically:

4/5=i enjoyed reading it and would recommend it but probably wouldn’t read it again

4.5/5=I really liked it and would probably reread it

5/5= i love it, i either have or plan to reread it

#booklr #book rec #captive prince #the raven cycle #percy jackson #all for the game #I was born for this #shades of magic #carry on #iron breakers #huntress #outrun the wind #the posterchildren #six of crows #most are YA or adult #feel free to ask me about any of these!! i love talking about books #theres a lot of schools and pirates on here

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heartxshaped-bruises · 6 years ago

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about the muse.

TAGGED BY: @vitrexanima ( thank you, this was very nice <3 ) TAGGING: @exs-et-ohs @formuseskies @inechoingsilence @brokenblondeprincess @ask-thedepressedkidatthetable @okayyeahsurewhynotcool @snowinabottle @witchyrebel @the-last-of-the-hellhounds

Davey Detten

— BASICS.

▸ IS YOUR MUSE TALL / SHORT / AVERAGE? He’s average. Taller than some but still not as tall as others.

▸ ARE THEY OKAY WITH THEIR HEIGHT ? Yes. He’s not bothered and actually doesn’t think much about it. The only times when he hates it is when his older brother Kurt is pulling him aside to give him a talk when he messed something up. He’s not trying to intimidate him but he clearly uses his height advantage to display authority, and that’s what Davey has a problem with. Kurt always manages to make him feel small in many ways.

▸ WHAT’S THEIR HAIR LIKE? It’s thick and curly, a little dry because he has no idea about grooming products. Depending on the light it varies from a sandy brown to a darker shade and when grown out, it turns very shaggy.

▸ DO THEY SPEND A LOT OF TIME ON THEIR HAIR / GROOMING?

As mentioned above - no. He uses whatever shampoo his mom buys him and does have zero knowledge about grooming. He tends to wash his hair to often because of the fire smoke and it’s showing; his hair becomes lighter and drier and could use a good conditioner and such. He also doesn’t cut his hair too often and if he does, he’s going to see the neighbour’s lady who does it for free.

▸ DOES YOUR MUSE CARE ABOUT THEIR APPEARANCE / WHAT OTHERS THINK ?

Not unless someone refers something directly to his appearance. There are idiots at his school who would sometimes tease him about being lanky and the bandshirts he likes to wear. A lot of people compare him to his brother who’s refered to be ‘the handsome one of both’, and it unsettles him. When he used to ask someone out or encountered new people they immediatly acknowledged him as ‘Kurt’s brother’, immediatly followed by ‘Your brother is cute’. That’s scratching on his ego.

— PREFERENCES.

▸ INDOORS OR OUTDOORS? Outdoors. He doesn’t like to be at home in his room, walls make him feel like he’s suffocating. He spends a lot time outside and downtown to do different things. A lot of times he of course ends up kindling when nobody’s watching.

▸ RAIN OR SUNSHINE? He doesn’t have a preference. He’s a october child, so he loves fall that offers both. He’s outside anyways.

▸ FOREST OR BEACH? Forest. The surroundings are very claming and interesting to explore. Besides, his peers hardly come here so they leave him alone. He’s still a kid who likes to play outside, that never changed.

▸ PRECIOUS METALS OR GEMS? Precious Metals.

▸ FLOWERS OR PERFUMES? Flowers. He doesn’t know how to feel about perfumes.

▸ PERSONALITY OR APPEARANCE? Personality. Davey would never deny that someone’s attractive, so on that level he cares more about personality. Though when he doesn’t know someone he would definitely make fun of someone’s appearance, but not to hurt them, just to crack a joke.

▸ BEING ALONE OR BEING IN A CROWD? I’m not sure. He’s spends a lot of time to himself but I don’t know of he prefers it over being in a crowd. He likes people and wants to surround himself more with them.

▸ ORDER OR ANARCHY? Anarchy.

▸ PAINFUL TRUTHS OR WHITE LIES? White lies.

▸ SCIENCE OR MAGIC? Magic.

▸ PEACE OR CONFLICT? Peace. Any kind of conflict stresses him and puts Davey into a very dark mental space. Those episodes aren’t healthy and show more frequently kindling of the rather reckless kind.

▸ NIGHT OR DAY? Night. He likes the way flames look in the dark. It makes him feel happy, safe.

▸ DUSK OR DAWN?

Dusk. He thinks the most beautiful light is then.

▸ WARMTH OR COLD ?

Cold - he isn’t a fan of summer and also hates overheated rooms.

▸ MANY ACQUAINTANCES OR A FEW CLOSE FRIENDS? He’s torn here. While he’d really like close friends he’s sure about any acquaintances he can keep around.

▸ READING OR PLAYING A GAME? Playing a game. He doesn’t have the patience to read unless it’s a book a movie or a game is based on.

— QUESTIONNAIRE.

▸ WHAT ARE SOME OF YOUR MUSE’S BAD HABITS?

He’s antsy and always seems to move, even if it’s small.

He can be pushy in the sense of forcing himself onto people who offered him their little finger, now he wants to take the whole hand. He doesn’t have a lot of social competence when it comes to build friendships - he’d consider you a friend if you sat next to him during a bus ride.

He’s super forgetful. While his parents are unfair at times, he’s also not very good at improving the situation because he doesn’t put as much effort in it as he should. He can be very self-centered.

▸ HAS YOUR MUSE LOST ANYONE CLOSE TO THEM? HOW HAS IT AFFECTED THEM?

Well, you could say that he lost his family after he burnt the house down. After he died he returned one year later, only to learn that his family moved away and left him on the town’s cemetery. He felt sorry for what he did but he wouldn’t have expected that they’d leave everything connected to him behind, including his remains. He felt utterly lost and didn’t know what to do because he was never on his own before. He’d hide in the ruins of the house, tried to find out where they were ow to make them come back. He even made phone calls but the cut seemed to big and it took him a long time to get over it. He doesn’t like to talk about his family or only think of them; he doesn’t want to address it in any way because it hurts that even in death, they didn’t care enough.

▸ WHAT ARE SOME FOND MEMORIES YOUR MUSE HAS?

He used to hang out a lot with the band of his High School. He was a part of it, evn if only the surrogate drummer if the other ddn’t make it. The afternoons with them at the rehearsals were very remarkable for him a someone who got a hard time making friends, This one was the only group of people who seriously considered him as a part of them, even if they weren’t close. They thought he was a nice guy - odd, but adorable.

▸ IS IT EASY FOR YOUR MUSE TO KILL?

No. Even when he set the family home on fire Davey didn’t intend to kill anyone, not even himself. He didn’t think that far. Nonetheless, he would never intentionally hurt someone out of ill will, no human and no animal, so killing is off the list.

▸ WHAT’S IT LIKE WHEN YOUR MUSE BREAKS DOWN?

He usually curling up, leaning against a wall with his head on his legs, hands in his hair. It gets hard to inhale, so you’d only hear noisy breaths. There are tears bruning in his eyes but he hardly cries - if he does, it’s the exact opposite and very silent. But normally, he curls up into a ball with a wall in his back to support him; the wall soothes him just as small rooms - that’s why he sometimes hides under his desk.

▸ IS YOUR MUSE CAPABLE OF TRUSTING SOMEONE WITH THEIR LIFE?

Yes. He’s way too trusting and really shouldn’t do that.

▸ WHAT’S YOUR MUSE LIKE WHEN THEY’RE IN LOVE?

He’s more attentive than usual and would do anything to be around the other, seemingly by coincidence, but it’s really not like that. Davey’s very affectional with most people but when he’s in love, he’d make you little presents and the sereotypical seeking for physical contact. Even if he comes off a little awkward. In the worst case he can seem pushy.

#★ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴ: ᴅᴀᴠᴇʏ ᴅᴇᴛᴛᴇɴ #long post

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thegreatyin · 7 years ago

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U.04 Thoughts...basically a review/reaction. But also not. Because I'm a sarcastic narcissist.

So- I- WOW.

I HAVE A LOT OF FEELINGS RN

OH. MY GOD.

(spoilers ahead, be warned!)

(Also, I wrote this on my Kindle Fire, so expect spelling mistakes.)

(Also, this is vry long yes™, so it's under the cut. Read at your own risk.)

First off, I'm gonna clarify - this is my thoughts on the FIRST VIEWING. I'm gonna re-watch it later and think about stuff more then. I haven't watched it a single time after the first, because I needed to write this.

Second...

Ink was portrayed BRILLIANTLY in this episode. This is EXACTLY what he is- only in it for his own entertainment/benefit. He is Chaotic Neutral at best, and Chaotic Evil at worst. And here? He's at his worst. Straight up ELIMINATING the rest of the Multiverse, breaking the natural order of things- all because he was bored. Goddamn, I love/hate that asshole.

I gotta give props to the animation, as well- it was gorgeous. Jakei is an EXCELLENT animator, and this episode was WORTH the wait. I actually paused the episode at certain points just to appreciate how a character breathed, or how good they looked.

While the humor wasn't a prime focus, one always has to give it a HUGE shoutout. The joy, of course, usually came from my own squeals at Error's usual crazy reactions to things (imsorryilovehim) but there were also times where I took a break from my sobs just to laugh hysterically. Lots of them, in fact.

Enough praises though, lets give it a rundown. Skipping over the part that was previewed, we start in Underwap, with X-Tale Alphys. Now, what I noticed here is that Code Frisk seemed a bit surprised at all this- but I'll put that down to out-of-ut shenanigans. Anyway, X-Tale Alphys somehow uses one of the X-Tale TIMELINES to 'quarantine' Underswap, that's the main thing. Here, we also get an explanation for why Papyrus didn't come with them...there wasn't any point to it. Which is kinda a grim start for the episode, if you ask me.

Skimming over the Underfell bit- I don't have much to talk about there, surprisingly - lets discuss Nightmare and Killer and X-Tale Chara. Nightmare got a few chuckles out of me here, I have to say. Mainly from the look he gave Chara after they wanted to get the vial. It was the perfect embodiment of 'dude wtf'

I find it interesting here that Nightmare says that he 'owns' Chara. I mean- once they get to full power, they could just OVERWRITE him away.

Then again, it won't happen if he kills Chara first. Which he plainly can, dear Lord.

Now, what REALLY gets me in this scene is what Killer said. Because they took Classic's soul, they interfered with the UT Universe, thus making a ripple effect across all the timelines connected to it. This way, Killer knew EXACTLY what was going down.

This makes me wonder- does that mean, currently, all the Sanses in the Multiverse will be aware of the X-Event? Or just the ones closely intertwined with the main UT universe, like Killer's? It's a shame they never touch more on this, I personally find it fascinating.

Anyway, we finally make our way to Outertale, where we stay for almost all of the remaining episode. Here, the Sanses, Swap, Fell, and Sans, decide that they're done with Ink's bullshit. They want to go home, and they miss their brothers.

Unfortunately, Ink went missing, because he's a little shit that can't stay in one place like a good boy. So Classic has to take a break from his beautiful, busy hair-brushing and babysit this douche. AKA, go find him.

While looking, Classic finds a meteor shower, which...has no real importance. I'm not even sure why I included it, it's just a nice moment. Followed up by a fart joke.

Long story short, Sans encounters Outer, who is actually really fucking chill??? And I love?????? Him?????????? So much????????????????

Skipping ahead a bit, Nightmare attempts to force-feed Chara some poor monster's soul, but Chara can't eat that shit. You know what they can eat? Their soul! That's right - Glitchlord, aka ERROR, is here to find Ink and beat the crap out of him.

Little personal note- I love how he goes from basically 0 to 100 in a second. "Sup Nightmare, WHERE THE FUCK IS INK."

Turns out, Ink isn't feeling things, because not even Nightmare, who can sense emotions, can find him. Which means that Ink didn't take his pills today- naughty boy.

It's a shame we don't get more of Outer, tbh- I really liked him. That's definitely one of this episode's flaws. Alas, Killer has to kill SOMETHING, otherwise his name means literally nothing.

Skipping ahead, since I, again, don't have much to say about anything else- the Error and Ink fight.

DEAR LORD, THE ERROR AND INK FIGHT.

This thing is BEAUTIFUL. It's basically a game of keep-away between a grumpy glitchlord, a mad artist, and a smol anger child. Because that's what it is- and it gave me CHILLS. Mainly Ink. He gives me chills. How he looks, the way he can effortlessly throw down everyone WITHOUT his brush, the cut Error gave him- this is what he really is, at heart. Or should I say, without one.

The fight pauses so Ink can give a speach, and now? Now, we have CONTEXT.

Record Scratch.

Freeze frame.

That context.

Ink did this all because he was going to be empty without new AUs. He sided with X-Gaster because he needed something new. Something interesting. Something to fill the emptiness that is eternally there, he did it because he was bored, he did this all to have something new, he did it to play a game that would never end- and I'll fight you on it, that is the most human thing he's done, ever. Period. Never again, I show ship Ink and X-Gaster, we're calling it Creation, you can't stop me, it's sailed, and I'm the captain.

But, you ask, why did he have to be soulless to do it? Because he would otherwise feel guilty about leaving behind Cross- a genuine FRIEND. And if that also isn't the most human thing to do, if you can find a better example I'll write a bad Jerry X Reader fanfic.

(I'm not joking. I will, please pm me if you find something.)

Anyway, the real takeaway here is that Ink successfully summons Satan, AKA X-Gaster. And he proceeds to murder everyone, shove Error in the Anti-Void for being bad, give Ink's brush back, shove Classic back into UT, kill the AUs (no, actually, Error did that, but shh-) and make Cross...come back?

Horray! Start the victory parade!

...but not really. Because, from what I can tell(?), almost everyone is in a 'Quarantine ' zone, probably to wait while Ink and the X-Tale crew break bread and make their new world. Infact, from what I can tell, the only people besides them who aren't there are Error (who's having a fit in the AV), Cross, Dream, Fresh, and Nightmare and Killer, but those last two might just be around because Nightmare blends in with the background WAY too much.

x-Faster leaves, giving Cross the option to join him, and...I hope he doesn't. I pray he doesn't.

But enough of that. Let's talk about 'Valiant Heart' for a second, huh ~?

(Putting a break to pretend like I'm organized)

Tbh, I actually thought that Dream would DIE in this scene. Really - Nightmare saw a chance to get rid of a KNOWN thorn in his side, and he took it. Luckily, Cross saved him, and they both escaped...

But this scene has other things to talk about. First off, it's beautiful. This is the only thing in Underverse (so far/as far as I know) that isn't fully animated, instead shone in quick images and only having GORGEOUS song lyrics. I LOVE this part, and it might just be my favorite out of the whole episode.

Although..... I'm 25% percent sure that Dream and Cross went to X-Tale to hide, and Nightmare and Killer are now left alone in the black space that used to be the Doodle Sphere. Do they stay there? Is Nightmare's castle still existing?? This is like Killer's line at the start- I want insight to this.

For the sake of keeping this (long) thing short, I'm gonna end here, but...wow. Things are BLEAK rn. I can't even theorize any good possibilities - I'm shook. What a way to end an arc.

....or, should I say, what a way to start one~?

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delkios · 7 years ago

Text

Into the Great Wide Open (DC TV)

Title from the Tom Petty song. Also please ignore the fact that I forgot about the lack of mountains along the Kansas-Missouri border, oops. Title: Into the Great Wide Open Fandom: DC TV Rating: PG-13 Word Count: 2374 In Responds to: ColdWave Week 2018: You Captured My Heart Characters: Len, Mick, Lisa cameo at the end Summary: Len decides to try a bit of camping. Spoilers: it doesn’t end well. “Len!” At the sound of his partner calling his name in distress, Len took off like a shot toward it. He ducked around trees, jumping roots and large rocks, trying to remember the path he’d taken, cursing to himself for not realizing when Mick had fallen behind. “Len!” He found Mick, half sprawled on the ground, and busted out laughing. “Shut up, asshole!” Mick snapped, face red either from embarrassment or trying to free his leg from a thick patch of mud. “Help me outta this!” “You can face down mob muscle and entire squads of cops, but it’s overly friendly mud that takes down the great Mick Rory.” “I’ll burn you in your sleep,” was the petulant retort. Len gingerly knelt by Mick at the edge of the mud. He gave Mick’s leg a tug, then a harder one. “You know, it’ll be easier if you just give up the boot.” “Well I guess I’m gonna fucking die here because there’s no way in hell I’m tromping through a damn forest without shoes.”

“So dramatic.” “Shut up and help me, dammit. This is your fault anyway.” He snorted, wiggling Mick’s leg to try to get a little room to work with. “It’s a camping trip. You’re not being kidnapped.” “You literally told me you were kidnapping me to go camping.” “Only because you refused to do it willingly. Aren’t you some kind of country bumpkin?” Len teased as he slowly worked Mick’s foot free. “I thought roughing it was in your blood.” “Camping sucks. The country sucks. Do you have any idea how goddamn dark it gets out here? You’re basically blind.” Mick huffed, carefully scooting back on his butt once his foot- and boot -were out of the mud. “Can’t believe some city bum wants to go camping.” “Yeah, well.” Len’s expression grew soft and melancholy. “It was one of those things my grandpa talked about taking me to do.” But it never happened, Mick knew. The man had basically worked himself to death trying to care for his grandchildren behind Lewis’s back. “Can’t believe I let you talk me into being uncomfortable and miserable for half a week,” Mick groused. Just as he hoped, it made Len crack a smirk. “There’s a reason people live in cities, you know.” “Getting away from it helps you appreciate those modern conveniences.” “I’m very appreciative. Can we go now?” Chuckling, Len slapped Mick’s shoulder as he stood up and started back on the path again. “If you want to find your own way back to the car, be my guest.” Mick hesitated before following grudgingly after. “I don’t trust you not to get your bony ass eaten by a bear.” “Glad to hear it.” Len looked over his shoulder with a wicked smirk. “After all, I did kidnap you for this trip so you can keep me warm at night.” Mick growled, eyes growing dark. He sped up until he was right behind Len, pressed against his shoulder. “We should hurry up and find a camping spot. Test it out. Make sure it’ll be comfortable for tonight.” Len just laughed at him. ~*~*~*~ Between the drying mud making it difficult for Mick to bend his ankle fully, a misplaced step twisting the other one just enough it twinged with every other step and walking face first into a branch because he hadn’t been paying attention, Mick was just as miserable as he said he’d be when Len finally decided to set up camp. To make up for the crappy trek, he let Mick make the fire as big as he wanted. “Just don’t let it get out of control,” he told Mick before grabbing the fire bucket and a spade to dig up dirt to put the fire out with later. Mick grumbled- just for show -and all but bounded into the trees like a kid in a toy store. While Mick did that, Len found a nearby stream- right where the map said. It was crystal clear and cold enough to shock Len’s teeth when he stuck his hand in it. Snow melt, he read, but it hadn’t really occurred to him just how cold it would be. Mick would hate it, he decided with amusement. He filled up his water bottle in the stream as well as a large container for general use. It was only about a quarter mile from where they’d set up but it would still be a bother making that walk every time they wanted water for mundane things like washing their hands. After that Len went about setting up the camp: putting up the tent- which Mick had to help him with because while the instructions were easy, the poles very much did not like bending that way -unrolling the sleeping bags, putting out things like the lantern, toiletries and a shotgun- which Mick refused to come without because there are goddamn wild animals out here and a little knife isn’t going to stop most of them, Lenny -in easy reach. Then stringing a hammock between a couple trees and setting the bear-proof canister on the outskirts of the camp. Len didn’t actually know if bears were that much of an issue in this area but when Mick saw it, he swore up and down he’d never go camping with Len. Which lead to lugging around the shotgun. By the time the camp was to Len’s liking, the sun was starting to set and Mick had finally gotten the fire pit to his liking. “Really, Mick,” Len teased as he broke out the skewers, marshmallows and chocolate because what good, non-arson-related fire was complete without s’mores? “They’ll be able to see this from space.” “Be a crappy view for ‘em,” came the distracted reply, Mick focusing on setting up the kindling. The fire, even Len had to admit, was impressive. And it brought Mick’s good humor back. They had a couple cold sandwiches and chips for dinner given the fire, according to Mick, was too hot. Anything they’d try to cook on it would be burnt on the outside and raw on the inside. They demolished half the bag of marshmallows, mostly by eating them but a fair few became projectiles that Len later scooped up and tossed in the fire to keep hungry critters from wandering into their camp. After their earlier hike just getting to the site, it didn’t take long for the sugar crash to set in. They put out the fire, put on their pajamas and slipped into the sleeping bags Len had zipped together. A chill was beginning to set but, between the thick layers, small space and shared body heat, Len thought it might end up getting stifling in the tent. The thought stayed in the back of his head as he began to drift off to sleep, face pressed against the curve of Mick’s back. “...Len?” Len just made a muffled noise in acknowledgement. “The ground’s too hard and it’s too damn noisy. I can’t sleep.” Scowling against Mick’s back, Len let his hand flop forward until he could slap it over Mick’s mouth. While that had been sufficient hint for Mick to shut up during the night, it didn’t stop Mick from tossing and turning. Which, in turn, kept Len from doing more than dozing. In the end, just as the morning birds were starting to sing and the temperature in the tent went from warm to boiling, Len unzipped his half of the joined sleeping bag and tried to salvage what sleep he could on the hammock. When he finally woke up not all that long later, Len was cranky, tired and sore. Mick, looking just as cranky, tired and sore, said from where he was cooking breakfast over a small fire, “I told you. Being in the country fucking sucks.” He ended up burning breakfast because something something, open fires are harder to regulate temperature than grills. Len was too irritable to care as he gnawed on plain bread, burnt eggs and a dry granola mix. Even with his food history it was a pretty bad meal. Afterward, Len walked to the stream to wash up. There was still plenty in the container he filled the day before but he figured he’d use the time away from Mick to calm down a bit. After all, it wasn’t his partner’s fault that the ground- and hammock -were terrible to sleep on. Maybe next time, if there ever was one, Len would consider an air mattress worthwhile to lug around. Len returned to find Mick was staring deeply at the fire. After putting his stuff away and dressing for the day, Len stood and surveyed his surroundings. “The hell do people do out here?” He asked. “Nothing,” Mick replied, gaze not wavering. “There’s not a goddamn thing to do.” If Len didn’t know any better, he’d think maybe Mick’s pyromania was a result of boredom. “Do you want to go for a hike?” When Mick gave him an incredulous look, Len shot back, “There’s nothing else to do so why not?” Mick continued to glare. In the end, though, he reached for the fire bucket and upended it over the fire. Len couldn’t help the warm smile as he overheard Mick mutter, “Can’t believe I’m in love with you.” The hike wasn’t too bad though Len’s internal map was off just enough that they couldn’t find the camp for a good half hour. By then the sun was just reaching its apex, leaving them both sweating and out of breath. Len grabbed their toiletries and told Mick, “Let’s wash up before lunch.” Mick, blatantly eyeing Len, growled in agreement. They reached the stream and Mick immediately pulled off his shirt, intent obvious. Len stifled a snicker as he dipped a washcloth in the stream, got it nice and wet, then slapped it against Mick’s bared chest. Mick yelped loudly, jumping back and pulling the cloth off him. “Fuck, that’s cold!” Len just cackled at him, lathering up his own washcloth. “I fucking hate you,” Mick said just before he retreated a good ten feet away, muttering about how his dick was going to shrivel up inside his body. Lunch was a simple affair of roasted hot dogs and buns toasted on the outskirts of a fire. That still left an awful lot of hours with nothing to do, however. When Len got back from cleaning up their lunch, he found Mick in the hammock, reading a book. He looked up at Len’s approach. “Wanna join me?” Len’s back twinged in protest but it wasn’t like he had anything else to do. He grabbed his own book and, after nearly capsizing the hammock three times on his way in, settled against Mick’s side. They stayed like that until the sun began to set. That night they layered the sleeping bags one on top of the other. It didn’t leave a lot of room for the both of them to lay together and they’d be chilly until the tent warmed up but there was a little extra padding. It still was hardly comfortable but it at least got them through the night. Still without anything to do, they went for another hike the next day. Instead of washing up at the stream, though, Len filled up a couple of bowls with water and brought them over to the afternoon fire to warm up while Mick cooked. After eating, with Mick eyeing the bowls with confusion, Len tested the temperature of the water. Deeming it acceptable, he began unbuttoning his shirt. “Uh, Lenny?” Mick asked, clearly confused. Len let the shirt slip off his shoulders, giving his partner a coy smile. He wetted a washcloth. “You do me, I do you?” “Are you seriously trying to seduce me with basically a sponge bath?” “Only if it works.” Mick stared at him for a moment. “Fuck it, I’m easy.” He pulled off his shirt and hummed in approval at the first swipe of the warm cloth against his skin. That night Len lounged in the tent, content, naked and- for once -unself-conscious, watching as Mick cooked dinner in nothing but a pair of boxers. Something both of them quickly came to regret after waking up covered in bug bites. Mick had a hand down his pants in a way that wasn’t remotely sexy, scratching at a bite high on the inside of his thigh. “Can’t believe we’re out here for two more damn days.” Len, in the midst of rubbing his back against a tree to get a trio of bites right under his shoulder blade, silently agreed. ~*~*~*~ “Oh, look,” Lisa said casually from her place on the couch. “You two survived.” She gave Mick a shit-eating grin. “I guess camping isn’t as bad as you made it out to be.” “Next time he kidnaps me for a camping trip,” Mick growled, “I’m dragging you with me. See how smug you are after that.” Lisa patted his arm, not even trying to hide her amusement. “I’ll be sure to steal any camping books he picks up so you can burn them.” She turned to Len as Mick stomped off to set down their gear. Her eyebrow raised. “Well? Everything you hoped it would be?” “Overrated,” Len admitted. His eyes drifted after Mick, thinking about the mornings in that little tent, warm and isolated, like the world was just the two of them or the afternoons they spent in the hammock reading to each other. He thought about Mick stripped and pliant as Len washed him, body gleaming with water and sunlight. He thought about the evenings by the fire as night fell, sitting between Mick’s legs and leaning against his chest, Len singing softly and Mick as enthralled by Len’s voice as he was by the fire. “But it had its highlights.”

#dccoldwave #dccoldwaveweek2018 #fic 2018 #leonard snart #mick rory #lisa snart

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