#and then sells him out to the lions that killed his family?

[of-fandoms]

Uhhh watched the Mufasa movie and gotta say.

Not a fan.

Don't like how they handled Taka at all.

You're telling me this pathetic bastard is Scar?? THE Scar?

My brother in Christ that son of a bitch barely had a thought behind his eyes for half the movie and you're telling me THIS is the same dude that planned for his brother to get trampled to death? HOW does someone as brain dead as this guy even get ANYONE to work for him? If I was the hyenas I'd have laughed at him from the moment I met him.

I just...his whole arc in that movie just pisses me off! It's so ridiculously stupid how he's blaming Mufasa for everything

"Oh he didn't think straight" YES OBVIOUSLY BECAUSE THROUGHOUT THIS WHOLE MOVIE HES A MASSIVE IDIOT - when the trailer for this movie dropped and everyone was making assumptions that Mufasa stole Taka's throne I hoped they wouldn't go that route.

Now I wish they did because then at least Taka would have an actually good motive to want Mufasa out of the way!

[kismetconstellations]

There are so many ways that Voltron: Legendary Defender failed its characters. From the unfathomably idiotic decision to kill Allura off in the finale, to putting Coran through the pain of losing his family twice over, to all of the "jokes" at the expense of Hunk's anxiety, weight, and stomach problems.

But, to me, the most egregious example of this will forever be the numerous ways that Shiro was mistreated, even though I fully believe that most of them were unintentional and the fault of incompetence, rather than maliciousness.

I never expected a show with a TV-Y7 rating that was made to sell toys to children to address this character's extensive trauma in any meaningful way. And, perhaps there was a push behind the scenes to sideline him in order to bring Keith to the forefront, due to Keith being the head of Voltron in previous incarnations, and Shiro essentially being a Canon Foreigner created exclusively for this series.

But, when you have: - A poorly executed attempt to recreate Shiro's fight with Zarkon in the Astral Plane, void of the stunning visuals, impressively fluid fight choreography, and emotional and narrative stakes.

(Shiro fighting the show's main villain and his predecessor hand-to-hand for control of one of the most powerful weapons in the universe, vs the Paladins fighting shadowy, faceless foes that none of them- aside from Allura- have any personal connections to or conflict with, even once their identities are revealed, with long-range weapons, inside of Honerva's head.)

- Shiro, the previously "undefeated" Champion of Zarkon's gladiatorial arena and a highly trained and skilled martial artist, being slapped across the bridge of his own ship.

-Shiro's personal abuser telling him that the arm that was forcibly grafted onto his body in an attempt to turn him into a weapon for the Galra Empire is "the strongest part" of him,

Slav, an ally, echoing the sentiment and arguing that Shiro would be "even stronger with two robotic arms", and the first half of Season Seven confirming as much by depicting Shiro standing, often completely mute, on the sidelines

until he's outfitted with a new prosthetic arm. Only then is he actively allowed to participate in combat, again, and promoted to Captain of the Atlas.

-Shiro winning an intergalactic arm wrestling tournament to prove that he isn't a washed-up retiree (at the ripe old age of twenty-six), with that prosthetic.

-Said prosthetic being a mirror of his abuser's.

-No acknowledgement of Shiro's essence being transferred into the body of his clone that is down an arm. Or, how he's coping with not only not having a right arm at all, but also having been dead for a huge chunk of time, trapped inside the consciousness of the Black Lion and watching on helplessly as someone wearing his face tried to kill everyone he loves, and then resurrected to be suddenly "retired" through no choice of his own.

-Aside, of course, from an all-too lighthearted and chipper comment on routine helping him get through "being in the infinite void of the Black Lion", and a throwaway quip about how "having my consciousness transplanted from the infinity of Voltron's inner quintessence into the dead body of an evil clone of myself" has left him "a little out of sorts".

-And, Shiro not getting to kill his abuser, or even best him in combat.

Instead, he lies beaten and helpless, once again, as Keith, his replacement, takes Sendak out.

It crosses the line from clumsy writing to infuriating negligence and ineptitude.

The repeated violations of Shiro's autonomy, and what seems by all rights to be unintended ableism, even though it borders on outright disrespectful, went above and beyond any terrible writing and direction that I anticipated gritting my teeth and slogging through when I decided to finally bite the bullet and watch this show. It's utterly baffling to me that no one seemed to stop and realize that, "Hey, maybe introducing and then reinforcing the sentiment that a disabled man's prosthetic is the 'strongest part' of him, and he's effectively weak and useless without it, is a bad idea", at any point in the creative process before these episodes made it to air.

I wholeheartedly believe that as much as other characters were wronged, Voltron: Legendary Defender and its notoriously hellish fanbase that was more concerned with who these characters were having sex with than the actual plot, did not deserve Takashi Shirogane.

Shiro; a gay man, ace pilot, ambitious space explorer, and scarred trauma survivor who was abducted and forced to kill for the entertainment of his captors, subjected to unimaginable torture, and had his body modified without his knowledge or consent twice, yet never let any of his experiences, no matter how grueling or dehumanizing, stop him from being gentle, compassionate, noble, brave, self-sacrificing, and everything that epitomizes a True Hero, right to the bitter end.

[spinnysocks]

fun lion guard au: a royal mjuzi for the outlands.

now hear me out, i think it'd be SO cool to see an animal in the outlands chosen to help jasiri with her duties. i know in canon mjuzis are chosen at birth... but if you go with the presumable concept that no animal communicates with the lions of the past besides mjuzis, then it could've easily been a missed vision, especially as it seems mjuzis are usually mandrills and they seem to focus mainly on the lion royal family. besides, if rafiki got a vision that an outlander was chosen to be a mjuzi, he'd probably be in such disbelief that he'd play it off as mufasa pranking him lol

also you could argue that ushari got a vision opposed to just wanting revenge against the lion guard, and that's he's the royal mjuzi of resurrected!scar. he's by his side advising him. he doesn't necessarily do everything a mjuzi of the pridelands would because... you know... he's working for scar?... but it could also be room for a redeemed ushari au :D

but all in all, any outlander as jasiri's royal mjuzi would be fun and interesting!

i wanna like to add who i personally think would be funniest :3

this guy. yes, nduli. partly because i love him BUT i do have some reasons behind my choice for this specific au! including:

he's a crocodile

he tried to kill king simba. just imagine it, a mjuzi- who are typically aligned with royalty- who attempted assassination of the king of the pridelands

he was banished to the outlands, which makes him being the outlands' mjuzi even more funny seeing as he's originally a pridelander

he was involved in fights with jasiri multiple times, and now he's her royal mjuzi. i mean, come on, that's hilarious

to add on to that, kiburi's float are listed as neutral allegiance after scar was defeated. they don't have any alliances, or at least kiburi wouldn't care to, but then his float member has to, or even willingly, becomes mjuzi LMAO

have i mentioned that he's a crocodile? there's likely a reason mandrills are royal mjuzis, because of they can use their hands and feet effectively. but a crocodile? man's only got his mouth and maybee his tail

the reason i picked him over others is because, as with @devilsrecreation's great headcanons, i think he's the youngest of the crocodiles and one of the youngest in the outlands too. because of that i like to think he's pretty optimistic towards any situation, to the point where he's naïve. just imagine it. jasiri comes up to kiburi's float like, "hey, uhm... nduli's supposed to be royal mjuzi... :|" and while kiburi is confused af, nduli's just goes "oh, okay!" because he's a bit of a follower. no shame on him tho i think it sells the whole thing more lmao

[lace-archives]

Chapter 1, Steady Going Nowhere.

TAGS: [Dead Dove Do Not Eat]. Slow burn, cannibalism, mentions of suicide, implied SA, starvation, canon divergences, murder, Gwyn is a ginger, mentions of dementia, relatively realistic decay except i didn't get too much into it just in case. Characters are a mix from the books and the show, i added 1 year to the show age of Jon so our mains are both 18.

It was right there, after all this time, inconspicuously laying atop the snow, held tightly by the gauntlets of the knight, and stained red by the fight it had endured moments before.

Gwyn had dreamed of the swordsman again this very morning; the mismatched metals of his armour glistened in the summer sun and reflected the emerald toned tall grass that danced with the wind surrounding his unnaturally stiff form. A longsword, half as tall as he, swung around and stopped abruptly, pointing invitingly to where Gwyn watched. The same longsword shimmering with her own blood right now as its owners body grew cold and gray on the forest floor, a sanguineous flow dripping from the side of his neck where she stabbed the stick closest to her moments before.

Dying was not as instant as Gwyn once thought. It took at least an hour for the knights body to stop jerking and spasming. Every time she thought it had stopped, a new limb moved minutes later. The feeling he would rise up from the dead and finish killing her did not leave her side as long as he could move, and until it did, she did not leave his.

Being a killer and killing someone was not the same to her, even if it was to the rest of Westeros. Lords, knights and kings could kill as they saw fit, that never counted, but any man who fought them back was a killer. Would she be a killer now? His yellow cape was sullied red, and the golden lion pin on his shoulder left very clear which house he served, who would want her head first.

The way to the nearest town would be long, whatever side of the forest she may come out of, but twenty-one silver stags from selling six sheep and the mans wineskin would be perfect travel companions, as long as the gods were kind and didn't send a blizzard. Her best efforts went into treating her shallow wounds as neatly as she could, and as soon as she finished tying the last ripped piece of the knights linen shirt around her arm, she grabbed the knights longsword, cleaned her blood off it on his cape, and began walking.

By the time the walk back hit a fortnight, starvation was stabbing into Gwyns gut.

The wolfswood seemed to circle and go on forever. Even a ray of sun felt like blistering heat once you grew accustomed to the cold, and in the shade, the snow seemed to glitter with a distinctive shine that was unnoticeable to someone walking through the clearings. Tracks left by her boots were not as noticeable as they would be under open skies, and finding your way was as much a learned skill as riding or sword-fighting.

Leopoldt was a cowardly boy of thirteen, someone who couldn't so much as go out herding alone from fear of foxes, and Dietrich carried the weight of seventy namedays on his back. Perhaps that is what made him so hunched he had to walk with a cane. Neither of them could look for her. What was left of her real family, the people of a house fallen as quickly as it had risen, thought Gwyn long dead. These news would never reach them.

With so much time to think alone, it was an arduous task not to wonder if her father had felt this way the months he disappeared, so far from the life he knew, like he had walked into a different place, a different time.

Hunger ached deep inside her, slowly vanishing the last drops of wine and melted ice Gwyn had the previous morning.

In front of her laid the empty hand of the Lannister knight, frozen stiff. It stopped her leather boots in their track. Blood phased her little, the snow atop the pale-faced mans beard that resembled how her father was brought back to their estate was what perturbed her far too much. Losing one's mind, what a nightmarish thought. It would prove everyone right; blood of her blood. They never understood, not one of them.

The day Gwyn ran was not a selfish act like her father's or her brother's, it was the opposite. Making some little southern lordling marry her at her eighth nameday as her grandsire had wished was ridiculous, he would be mocked until the end of his days, it wouldn't be fair to anyone. This way everyone was happy, no low lords betrothed, no grandsire fighting for a say in what wasn't his to give, no one worrying what the mad families child would end up like. Perhaps finding wolfsbane and ending her life like her brother would be a more sensible way to go, at least it would be with a full stomach.

The wound on the side of the knights neck had stopped oozing crimson long ago, and the skin was not soft nor tender, beneath Gwyns cool fingertips, it felt far from human; it had tightened so much it reminded her of a swine.

A hurt sound made its way past parched lips as Gwyns gut twisted and turned with sharp pain that made her curl inwards and hold whatever she could of her stomach, falling down from a crouch to a kneel. There weren't many animals that could be hunted with a sword. A single rabbit had hopped by days ago, and in the desperate chase that followed all that was gained was heavy exhaustion and a loss of the barely noticeable track she had carefully been following for the past week that landed her right back where they started.

Powdery and darkened blood from the wound on the mans neck was smeared on her fingertips, and without so much as a thought, Gwyn lifted her hand to her lips and licked it off, leaving behind a lighter, spit stained red. What would happen if she couldn't get back? How long until hunger devoured her body from within and how long until some poor soul came across the white fur on her shoulders, buried beneath the snow many moons later. Dying just like her father… Just like father. Naked, insane, lost, alone.

The knights arm was surprisingly easy to pull off.

After a few semi-futile hacks of the longsword, it was quickly discarded and replaced by ungloved hands gripping the now bared wrist tightly and a boot against his breastplate. Violet skin on his shoulder gleamed as if covered by stained glass, and the flesh broke off instead of ripping, making the force Gwyn thought to apply way too much and sending her and the arm down to the forest floor. The old gods held no laws and made their believers follow no scriptures, but in the dirty ground, Gwyn looked up at the branches and wondered if anyone was judging from within them. People would, people always judged. Did nature? Did the old gods, who made hunger? No necessity overrode the law the world upheld, except its own. Survival was for those who fought to live, and nobody else.

Creaks and whispers of wind sounded deep in the wolfswood, violently interrupted by the crunching of frozen flesh and licking of bloodied bluish lips. Gwyn's entire body trembled with a profound sigh that left her breath stilled in the chill air. It was disgusting; almost tasteless and clearly raw, no ice would hide that. Yet, never in her life had she felt so full. Swallowing down any attempts of her stomach to reject the meal, she ate until she couldn't bear to swallow anymore; The flesh was far from tender, it cracked under her teeth so harshly Gwyn feared they might shatter, after so long, she could swear she had never tasted anything better.

The next week, she ate one of the thighs, roasted atop a small fire she moved along with each camp and never left the side of. When cooked, it went down so much in size she almost feared it would disappear, and gained an almost acceptable taste. Still, Gwyn could almost feel the weirwoods carved eyes glaring holes into her back every night before she laid down to sleep.

The last two days were noticeably warmer. By the time she had finished the first leg bugs had taken to living inside the other, as well as the arm on its side. They resembled festering wounds, but the white moved and ate away at the flesh from the outside. The ice the body had laid on had melted yesterday morning, and nature seemed to have no patience left for it as it hurried to take all that remained under the silver plates of armour. In a couple blows of the longsword, the leg and forearm were taken off. All that remained was a helmeted head and a chain mail covered torso with slowly melting blood pouring down.

Buried in the darkness of rows upon rows of evergreen trees Gwyn picked branches from that evening laid a small patch of snow; untouched by the sun and the heat it brought, and thus untouched by maggots.

Dragging the knight's body became much easier now that so little of him remained. It was a grotesque sight, but it was far from the first one she witnessed. Her father had always insisted all his children 'saw the world for what it was'. The blood-stained cloak served as a half-decent tent, and the fire felt warmer in that little nook; crackling of it seemed louder than usual, that was, until she noticed.

Gwyn rose abruptly. Someplace, someplace near, she heard the rhythmic hooves of a horse clashing against soil. She shoved snow over the fire and grabbed her newfound weapon before moving to swiftly place the ochre cloak over what remained of the man. Surely was a sight one was pleased to leave behind. She could bury him, take the horse and ride in one direction as long as it would take her; the wolfswood was large, but in at most four days without stopping, she was bound to come out of it. It was forgiveness for her sin, a blessing. Her rapid trail of thought stilled as she heard a voice. No.

Being found this way, with a knights blood on her hands, next to his dismembered body... it would mean being thrown in a dungeon for years to come, or worse. If she went back alone no one would know, being found was a different story.

Another voice made itself heard, too close for comfort. A question: "Who goes there?"

Gwyn heard the scrape of a sword being pulled from its sheath before she could think of where to hide, nearly dropping her own blade as she saw the first figure running towards her. Something was yelled, something indiscernible from the blood rushing in her ears when she began to run to the opposite side of the first people she had seen in a moon and the horse that could've taken her home.

Leave. You need to leave. There is no time to waste, don't you dare drop your sword.

If they catch you, after everything you had to do… you may have a chance at escape later but now-

Now? Your best chance is of dying in a chase like an animal.

No, it's not worth it.

It's not worth it.

It's not worth it.

A gloved hand gripped her curls and pulled her attempt at escape to an abrupt stop. Her desperate fighting soon grew futile as another man held her down and took the sword from her bloodstained hands before tightly tying them with rope. From the forest floor, the trees looked tall as mountains, the movement around her blurred as Gwyns head was banged against the dirt.

"Cease the fighting at once, boy!" The man gripping her copper hair was pushing Gwyns cheek into the ground as she squirmed. He looked more nervous than violent. Akin to a scared dog, barking with no intention to bite.

"Filthy worm." A second figure, all in black, emerged from the shadow of the first. He tied her hands with a speed forged by practice, spitting out the words he said as if each one disgusted him more. "The lions won't be happy about this one… They pay their good money to their vassals."

Soon followed by another pair who cautiously led two horses behind them, horrified from what they had just come across and observing her every move, they all dragged her to sit against a tree and began to quietly converse. The horses were comely. A rose grey garron mare, made for winter and most likely owned by the wandering crow, followed by a gelded rounsey with a blood bay coat, a bastard of horses. Even the most noble breeds seemed to succumb to instinct when let loose, most common peoples horses were rounseys.

'Gueren' was the name of the man in black. He looked to be no older than forty and his brown beard did not hide the constant frown he donned. Except for the furs on his shoulders, which were a vibrant amber fox pelt, everything about him was so dim Gwyn believed an abyss would surely be brighter.

The three other men wore old brown leather cloaks, and behaved nothing like prisoners. From their rare attempts at conversations, which went unanswered, she found out they were traveling to the Deepwood Motte before they had come across 'him'. They appeared young and spoke quietly, often turning back to look at her before resuming the conversation, as if she were training to become the next master of whispers and listened to every word.

The rogue crow was the first to suggest splitting paths, and after a curt wish of well-faring, he used what little strength his thin arms may have carried to toss her, facing down, on the back of his horse. Tying her ankles and putting a thin cloth bag over her head seemed to satisfy his desire to humiliate his new prisoner, and shame was something dueful her wane to beasthood.

Gwyn thought about anything except what was happening. Thought of the old man and Leo, thought of how to get the silver she still held onto to the two, thought of the hedge knights hands unlacing his breeches, of the smell of blood after she drove his own dagger through his eye, and how it felt like warm rain falling on her face from where he knelt above her, thought of the following chase by the Lannisters knight which made both of them lose their way, and the ensuing fight against him which left her with the newfound title of 'murderer' and stranded until now, here, when she was faced all she wished not to think of.

"Does she have a name?" Gwyn asked softly.

"Who?"

"Your mare."

"…" Gueren did not answer for a minute or so, and she assumed her questioning futile, until he replied. "Maiden. After the maiden" It was hard to know if he had named her then and there, or if he simply wished to share as little as possible, but it was a fitting namesake for her, whenever it may have been bestowed.

Gwyn hesitated before speaking again. "Are you southern? Most northeners don't believe in the seven."

"I used to be."

Following that, their trip to Winterfell was quiet. Neither of them wished to debate idle musings nor did they entertain any more questions for each-other. The canter of the mare kept her from sleeping, and she deeply regretted not asking the terrified boys for some water while she had the chance. Surely Gwyn could mask herself as some small squire with a voice like a bird, and somebody ought to believe her. She'd been posing as a boy for years to do what her timid and aged companions could not. It had kept her and the only two people left in her life who mattered safe for years. Until it hadn't…

Gueren did not stop at any time, paying no mind to the horses panting and jerking, and in just two days and one night, they passed the hunters gate.

Disorienting, the echoing of mutters and shouts crashed like waves into her ears, which had grown used to the stillness of the wolfswood. The clop of the mares hooves against the cobblestone ceased as they reached a stop, and after having her legs untied, Gwyn was harshly pushed off its back and onto the floor. Lord and Lady Stark were absent, and in their stead, the person to pass her judgment would be his eldest, who was but a few moons older than her.

The crow guided her tied hands by the loose end of the rope, the hood that was left on her head made walking hard, and she felt like a stumbling fool as she passed through the door into what she assumed to be the great hall.

The warmth of Winterfell caused Gwyns gelid skin to burn with the heat of molten iron. She sucked in a breath though her teeth, still tasting blood on her dry tongue as she was pushed down to her knees.

The hood over her head was not removed by the hands that placed it; the eldest Stark carefully placed it in the hands of a maester behind him, never taking his eyes from hers or his hand from the hilt of his sheathed sword. He looked almost a man, yet not quite. Young for his young age, he held no hardened features of a man except for an exhausted expression. No one made the first move for a few moments, until Gueren presented the Lannister knights longsword and cloak pin to the lord Stark before speaking.

"M'lord, i found him in the wolfswood, half way to the motte but almost a mile off the path." He said, stern and clear. "I believe the other knights body we found near the edge is also his handiwork. He must have lured them into the forest to kill them both. His hands were covered with blood when i found him and the body was cut into pieces, we only found the torso and a leg."

A shiver blew across the room like winter wind as the Stark imagined the sight. He looked away from her, lost in thought.

"Speak, or i will take the words of this man for granted and deliver a sentence myself." His voice faltered, yet his face remained the same as he returned her gaze once again.

Gwyn lowered her head and looked away, speaking in a choked voice "I did kill them, there is no use in denying it. But they attacked me first." "When?"

She rose her head to meet his gaze again. "I'm not sure, my lord. When was the feast you held last?" Both the lord Stark and the crow looked bewildered, and the second broke the silence, "You're telling me you spent over a month in there?" She only nodded, glad not to be asked more questions. "Gods be good…"

The young lord took a step back, contemplating, before taking his hand off his blade and crossing his arms. Gwyn wondered, if they knew her true crime, would they doubt for even a second? It was only a vile accusation, or a grave suspicion, but any proof of it relied on her own word.

"If you will, you may take the black and pay for your crimes serving at the wall. Were you not to do this, you will be hanged come morning." This time, his voice was unwavering. Surely speaking with words not his own, ones he had heard his father say hundreds of times.

She had not considered that option. Gwyn had assumed that sometime before her sentence someone would find out about the truth of her sex, one way or another.

"May i ask something of you, my lord?" She struggled to pull a small bag from her pocket, and held it gently in her tied hands in front of him. "Would you please give this to my family? It is mine, i earned it selling sheep here." Her voice rasped as she continued. "I will not need it at the wall, but they will find use for it."

He nodded, calling over the maester once again and handing him the bag.

"I shall see to it that the money is delivered." The young lord Stark turned and left, and by the hour, Gwyn was fed actual food, and river water instead of melted snow for the first time in a moon. Eating it almost felt wrong, undeserved, knowing the last thing she ate, but she swallowed down the doubt with her soup and went on her way with Gueren.

In eighteen days and seventeen nights, they arrived at the wall. Gwyn had seen it from afar many times, yet now, it loomed over her as imposing as the sky itself.

Her legs felt like they were about to fall off, more than half of the way was spent with her captor comfortable on horseback and her walking, being led by her tied hands like a leashed hound.

"Don't you dare run now." Gueren pulled out a small blade and sliced the ropes clean off. They had left red marks on her skin, but luckily weren't tight enough to scrape into it.

"I chose this, why would i run now?" She replied, confused.

" …That's what they all say" He tossed her the longsword inside its scabbard when they reached the gate to castle black. As Gwyn stepped in and looked into the yard where the recruits trained, her gaze met a pair of dark gray eyes staring back right into hers.

Chapter 2 : What Choice But Simple Duty

Coming soon...

Authors note: So yeah! That was it for now. I've never really posted my writing before but i really like making characters and i was inspired by the lovely writers here on tumblr to give it a try. I can 100% assure you it is cannon that Gueren told Gwyn it was fine if he had a little dick and he didn't have to pee so far away when they journeyed to the wall. I might post some art of her later, Gwyn looks a bit more masculine naturally, and that's what helped her so much when she traveled and worked so she embraced it as she became older. Anyways! I'm just really happy to finally post something, even through the perils of editing and writing i really enjoyed this and am definetly gonna continue this story, and post other for more OC's. If any of you want me to get right to the point and write freaky stuff, feel free to request. All of my fics will be slow burns because that's how i made the OC's stories but i looove writing relationships and NSFW too. Thank you for reading!!!! <3

[lipeg]

Jaune is a terrible character

I like him but he had a terrible development.

Now that RT has closed and the question remains who will want to take the risk, stay with Rwby and still have to pay Warner.

Warner is in bad legs, full of debts to pay.

It was revealed by a profile that Rwby is not making a profit unfortunately he didn't give data which would be very important but said that volume 9 had no money to be made and that it was a loan... Well the studio closed.

I believe it has already happened that good studios have closed but... are usually closed because of greed or "Woker"

Japan studios Play Station

About Jaune, he has a lot of problems.

His past is non-existent, we will not have any information about his parents or your other sisters.

He forged documents to get into Beacon, but there's a big problem with this story called Glynda, she would have noticed something wrong with it.

The worst part is that we don't know how big the Arc family was. Why are the only known family members Saphron, who has nothing to show, and Jaune.

V4 and V5 showed almost everyone's family.

It showed Ren's family who died and Nora's mother who died.

There was also "Pyrrha's mother"

But we didn't have a picture of his family.

That drawing showing him and his sisters doesn't count.

He is taking too long to evolve and I still don't see reason for him to go to Mistral and Atlas.

Why did he lose trust in Ozpin, Lion betrayed his kingdom and sold the hunters' location. Of the 4 Headmaster, Ozpin is carefree and paranoid, Lion is a coward, James he went crazy but still wanted to save the world, Teodoro... I don't know much about.

If it weren't for him, Weiss would have died, but I still don't see a reason for him to go, he's terrible in battle. It's still bad but he's not terrible.

I find it incredible that his parents never came after him.

IT'S YOUR SON WHO IS MISSING! They probably knew where he was.

V9 already been "confirmed" that has not been paid. They took out a loan to make the V9 and apparently they didn't pay it.

I wish, I had the data, but I don't. It was the same thing Sony did with the sales figures for Marvel Spider-Man Miles Morales, they only came because of a leak.

Proving that Peter Parker sells more than Miles.

Rusted Knight... The idea is cool, I read a little of the book and at the end and the idea is cool.

A warrior trapped in his own armor, obsessed with the desire to be a knight.

As I said, the idea is good but... Excursion is bad.

None of my experiences were surpassed, in fact they were all frustrated. As much as I liked the idea of an older Jaune, I wish he was more serious, even angrier. He looks like an idiot and a crying baby.

I want the Rusted Knight and Jaune were two separate figures.

Rusted Knight appeared because Jaune's armor was cursed and he couldn't take it off and he had no control over his body and his conscience got stuck in his own head.

In the final battle, he would free himself with the help of Team WBY and show his berserker side.

It would be a big change to the character.

But unfortunately it didn't happen.

About revenge against Cinder.

The only ones who came close to killing her were Jaune and Winter.

Those damn silver eyes don't help, and Cinder has a damn Grimm arm that makes her suffer a lot.

I just hope whoever buys RWBY develops more other characters.

Sun, Velvet, Glynda, Tai Yang, fuck even Cardin. They have the potential to be good characters.

Avatar Last Airbender. The episode The Storm develops Aang and Zuko at the same time but from a completely different point of view. Aang tells his past to Karata and Iroh reveals Zuko's past to his soldiers who understands Zuko's point of view.

And famous episode Zuko alone.

No, because the work is called RWBY, the world revolves around them.

Just take the Baki work, in many Baki sagas secondary characters get a lot of prominence. Sumo Saga Oliva has been humiliatingly defeated and is back for revenge.

Jack Hanma has his own saga in Baki Rahen. Where the protagonist of the work is called Baki Hanma.

It is ridiculous to say that just because a work or series has the name of the protagonist, it must focus only on the protagonist.

I'll wait for what happened with RWBY and I had the V10, I am going to pretend madness and pretend that the V10 never happened like the remake of Avatar the legend of Aang.

[storieschats]

First ACOTAR reaction: Wolves, Fae, and Cursed Masks!

Hey everyone! This is my first time reading A Court of Thorns and Roses, and I'll be posting my reactions to the entire series, so join me on this journey! Feel free to comment, reblog, and talk to me about books anytime—I’d love to hear your thoughts!

Where I am: Book 1 Page 102 of 419

What's happened so far: So our story begins with a girl called Feyre who is very poor and has to hunt to survive. Feyre hates her family, which is fine because her family hates her too. Her family is horrible.

Anyway Feyre is hungry and Feyre's sisters called Nesta and Elain are also hungry and since Feyre promised her mum who died when she was a kid (she didn't like her mum either btw) that she would look after the family, we decided to go hunting in the woods Katniss style. Hunting in the woods is dangerous because we live near the border of the faerie world, which governs the northern part of the world leaving mortals with the southern part. And then we get lucky and find a deer or elk or something but oh no a wolf will eat the deer... So we kill the wolf. And we take its skin and sell it at the market along with the deer skin to a cool mercenary who tells us about her fights with faeries. Ah also there's a father somewhere but don't worry about it.  But oh no, a wolf/lion who says he's a fae breaks down the door of the hut where we live with our sisters (and that dad) and says that we killed his friend and now we have to let him kill us or go live with him in the land of the fairies for the rest of our lives. No third option. Easy choice. We're not going to fairyland.

We go to fairyland and they treat us well and feed us and clean us and stuff but we want to run away because the family needs Feyre to survive because they're useless. But hey, we don't need to run away after all because the lion/wolf/fae who kidnapped us turns out to be a human-looking fae man with pointy ears and he promises that he's looking after our family and we believe him because everybody knows fae can't lie. Ok but there's trouble in the fairy kingdom, a magical disease is spreading across the land, our kidnapper called Tamlin and his friend Lucien and our maid Alis are cursed to have to wear masks (ahahahahh what the hell) and the evil fairies who used to be afraid of the lords that Tamlin and Lucien are, now aren't afraid of anything and hang around our estate (good for them, go queens).

What I think so far: I like it! I've never read anything with fairies even though it's a super popular genre these days so I'm having fun.

Positive points:

I like the world, the fairies and the vibe of the descriptions of the woods and the village. It's giving me medieval fantasy vibes and I like it.

I like Lucien, our captor's friend.

I like the different types of fairies.

I like the part of the story where a poor girl is taken to a palace and given food and luxuries! I don't know if that's a trope but if it is it's one of my favourites!

Negative points:

I think I like this style of writing better than Fourth Wing, but it's still not my favourite.

The story is a bit slow, at least at the beginning, but I'm enjoying getting into the world. So far I feel the story is slow but not boring.

The fairies seem too human, I wish there was a more supernatural or eerie feel to them, but I don't think this is that kind of book.

Stars: ⭐⭐ but going for 3.

Prediction: I feel like this is going to be a Beauty and the Beast kind of scene where she needs to fall in love with him to undo the curse of the masks or something.

What I knew before reading: I knew it was about fairies (lol) and I knew she didn't get with the guy from the 1st book... so I know she doesn't get with Tamlin. I don't know who the guy in the 2nd book is, but I bet when he shows up I'll realise it.

After this reaction in conversation with my friend I found out that Lucien was going to be a love interest of one of the sisters and that it was a beauty and the beast retelling which even thought it was obvious made me feel very smart to being able to catch.

[an-autistic-with-personhood]

PLEASE tell me about your littlest pet shop town that you made with your sister omg i’m on the edge of my seat

Oh my god oh my god ok

So we used to play with them with a semi-normal town setup, with the animals as pretty normal modern townsfolk. Our town had a king (as you do when you're eight years old), most of the animals had families, and the many, many children left over stayed in an orphanage run by a Miss Hannigan from Annie-esque cat. I'll just list the ways it devolved from there. Relevant quotes attached.

The dog king got divorced every time we found a prettier dog wife for him (his first wife Daisy was an absolute bitch)

Jessica the orphanage caretaker hates kids and only works there because she's serving community service. We never explored what got her there.

Whenever we got new animals, we'd welcome them to town with a hazing-but-not-really-hazing ceremony (They'd very menacingly tell them they'd give them a "Nice. Warm. Welcome." But then it'd be the most wholesome cutesy song)

During our NCIS phase, we killed off a cat so we could do a murder investigation episode. She dangled from a makeshift noose in the corner for a few years before we brought her back

Some of the children from the orphanage ran away to live in the dump. They sell spiked lemonade. "The feral trash children spiked the lemonade!"

Somewhere down the line, a campsite went up with a pair of manipulative elephants hoarding the biggest campfire for themselves

The cat that ran the orphanage (Jessica) divorced her husband, and he got a redemption arc (and a bad haircut) out of it. I think one of the things that solidified his decision was when she spent the children's food money on a spa day. "Chad, I NEED this!!"

Accidental Krampus Christmas Special. "Saaanta's waaatching..."

Horror Christmas Special with children-eating snow bunnies. "🎵Frosty the Snow Bunny🎵 is gonna eat you now!"

Strained marriage between a husky and her idiot golden retriever husband (he loved her so much but he was just such a himbo that she sometimes couldn't take it)

Several character deaths after our family dogs chewed on the toys

I came home once to find my sister and cousin had been basically playing Survivor. Yet another cat was hanging from the bannister by a noose

Himbo golden retriever saw a lady bug (Carlos) for the first time and dubbed him the "chosen one", essentially starting a cult. Carlos was just the adopted son of the local cat polycule, but ce la vie

We have an au fanfiction somewhere of the himbo entering the town for the first time. au town was named Larpeville, pronounced "larpay villay". He met a vegan lion named Leoche (the "che" was silent) and nearly crashed a scooter into the town's new leaders. "*Sister making 'putputput' motor noises* *screaming*"

Triplet horse sisters (Sandy, Brownie, and Snowy) fell in love with a zebra, but all took different strategies to win his heart. Sandy took a pretty normal "get to know you" route. Snowy was the blondest of blondes and just blurted whatever. Brownie went full stalker. "My name is Snowy, but my friends call me Tanya"

The zebra befriended the orphans and talked to them on his morning runs. Pretty normal, but I had to mention my sister's genius improv when she blurted out Carlos's line, "I don't live here!!!"

The last time we played was exactly a year ago. My sister was 25, I was 24, and our cousin was 21. We made a playboy kink mansion. The himbo and his wife were trying out a sex therapist and she suggested they explore said playboy mansion.

Co-signed by my sister and my cousin - they just read the post and added some ridiculousness I'd forgotten

[kaythefloppa]

Lion Guard Rant: Janja's Redemption

One of the things that annoy me about The Lion Guard [as much as I enjoy the series] even after nearly half a decade of the show being over is how they handled Janja's redemption arc.

You may think I'm referring to how he was forgiven too easily and got no consequences [I'm not mainly talking punitive, but no further acknowledgment of what he's done or having to own up and apologize] - That's part of the reason why I didn't like it [I still like the character and JanjaxJasiri is a guilty pleasure of mine but yeah there's that little hiccup]:

The other reason is something that almost no one talks about and it drives me nuts, so I gonna have my time to shine; Remember back in The Rise of Scar when Ushari joined the hyenas and suggested communicating with Scar? And then he had this little exchange?

The show makes it very clear that Janja doesn't know the real reason behind Scar's death: That Scar dug his own grave trying to sell out the last hyenas who helped him [who, in case you're new to the TLK/TLG pipeline, are ancestors of Janja's clan, but don't expect that to ever have any relevance in the story --- a rant for another day]. This is important because they use this as an in-universe explanation as to why the hyenas [in the series] would want to help Scar.

Then there are moments like this in the series:

Sound familiar?

Scar makes the same promises as he does to his last army as a means of keeping them in line, regardless of whether or not he actually means it. He wouldn't do this if his audience [the hyenas] were smart enough to catch onto Scar's BS. And again, because Janja's hyenas don't know how badly Scar screwed their [presumed] parents over, they go along with it, continuing the vicious cycle.

Finally, there's the Hyena Resistance, in which Jasiri states she knows about the "legend of Scar" being a hyena.

Now setting aside the fact that there's so much missed potential with that line [like say, maybe Jasiri's clan were members of Shenzi's clan before a revolt, and thus they learned the value of the Circle of Life but again, a rant for another day] Jasiri knows about Scar's alliance with the hyenas, and being allied with SImba's family, who played an instrumental role in Scar's downfall, would give her knowledge on the real reason Scar died:

Combine that with Janja saving Jasiri and offering him a place on the good side and it's clear that the story connects itself together like a bow: Janja realizing the error of his ancestors, thanks to the effort of his fellow hyena and breaking the cycle by fighting for the Circle of Life, fitting the theme of the LK movies of "fighting the demons and evils of the past in order to carve the path for a better future" A very clever and reasonable bit of writing.... except it's not and all but one of the abovementioned stuff goes NOWHERE!!!

Was I the only one actually expecting this to go somewhere??: With how everything was set up and with how the show wanted to tie itself in with the movies, I thought the 3 abovementioned episodes were building up to a season finale where Janja learned the truth of Scar's betrayal of his predecessors and chooses to break the cycle of manipulation and treachery by turning against Scar, possibly finding some way to bring the original trio back into the franchise [one of the biggest golden missed opportunities for the show] and starting his redemption from there on out. I was completely dumbfounded at how all of this un-wraveled in actuality!

Janja's ancestry and Scar's betrayal of the first hyenas who served him have nothing to do with him switching sides, and they leave it pointlessly ambiguous as to whether or not Janja ever finds out that this is not the first time Scar was a backstabbing douche to hyenas.

Oh and they apparently offset this through this really awkward retcon where no one knows how Scar died and everyone thinks Simba killed him by yeeting him into the fire... even though Simba is implied to have told Kovu the real story behind Scar's death [because he SAW the motherfucker getting ripped to shreds by hyenas] and there is never an in-universe explanation given as to why everyone thinks Simba did it [and you can't even use the censors as an excuse, they could easily say "they ate him" - gluttony is the motivation of half the villains in this show, you could easily say the hyenas ate Scar and the kids at home wouldn't be traumatized].

This is also slightly off topic, but I almost find it to be somewhat of a double standard that Janja and the other Outlanders got off the hook, yet Ushari, who left the Pridelands because of the Lion Guard's mistreatment of him, is killed off with no one reacting to his death or his prior betrayal [again, both of which are partially the Lion Guard's fault].

[tropicalfreckles]

I don't talk about my Lupin III OC Kahlia that much, but screw it, some things about my girl.

She's half Hawaiian/half Japanese

Knows about Five to Six languages, only fluent in four.

About between the ages of 30-31

A jazz/swing singer (was working on becoming one and making an album out of songs she wrote before having to become a thief. later on she is able to realize her original dream.)

A skilled boxer (her uncle on her mom's side was a famous boxer who taught all his nephews and niece how to box, Kahlia has a bit of a temper and a lot of energy/impulsive behavior and he wanted her focusing it on something else instead of getting into fights)

Has 4 brothers and one sister (she's the Forth oldest)

Had a friend who was in the criminal scene before she became a thief, helped her disappear after her cousin was murdered and she was framed for his death over her family vault.

Met Lupin after he stole the first clue to her family treasure. Hated his ass and wanted to strangle him lmao. (still working off the idea)

Was a normal person 4 years prior to becoming a thief to try and get her family treasure.

When she was 16 years old her dad died due to cancer, and when she was 13 before that she inherited from him her grandmother's butterfly necklace that happened to be the first half of a key to the "family vault."

Her great grandfather was a man who was an inventor and his partner was a tech guy, they 'created' a clean alternative power in Japan around the time Electricity was being introduced throughout the country in the early 1900s that ended up being too unstable and causing people's deaths. Prior to the stain on the family, he got pretty wealthy selling a lot of his inventions, hoarded everything inside a vault far from Japan along with the secret to his unstable alternative energy that caused the death of a couple dozen people. Her family name was dragged through the mud for a while, that's why some of them fled to Hawaii after her great grandfather took his life post her grandmother dying in an accident.

She became a criminal and disappeared because of a woman who is the great granddaughter in law to her great grandfather's partner. (she wants the alternative power for nefarious purposes, along with any money inside of the vault. killed her cousin in front of her.)

She's big afraid of heights. (will only tackle her fears if someone is in danger, but it ain't ever going away)

A huge lush (girl can pound beers back like no tomorrow.)

Can be too emotional sometimes (can get hotheaded and is stubborn to boot)

Has a photographic memory

Genderfluid (goes by Lio/Lion when masc presenting)

also Bisexual

Huge flirt with women, has gotten her in trouble before lmao. She likes pretty ladies.

Has a black and white tuxedo cat named Jiji (Lupin took the opportunity as soon as finding out the cats name to joke to Jigen about it and made a passing thought of stealing her cat from her partly because of the name and her cat took to him instantly)

Actually really close to her family, both on her mother and dad's side. Very protective of her own. Hurt her a lot she couldn't save her older cousin and had to cut ties with everyone when she had to disappear.

Two years prior to meeting Lupin, she sought out Fujiko's help to becoming a better thief to steal the clues to her family treasure her great grandfather left as a hidden treasure hunt for his own family to decipher across Japan and part of Europe. She promised Fujiko a great chunk of her family vault if she could help her, and Fujiko agreed. She helped hone Kahlia's skills and was making a secret plan of eventually coaxing Lupin into their plan because she knows he's crazy good at this kind of stuff and while she's impressed at how fast learned Lia was, she thought she was too green to be able to handle the other parts of how this would probably play out. (she was right Kahlia would've gotten her shit rocked, she's a fast learner but she's definitely not as smart as Fujiko or Lupin.)

Kahlia was definitely annoyed with her at first when she realized Fujiko told Lupin about a family treasure and the first clue but forgave her because she trusted Fujiko/pretty lady (Kahlia is a useless bisexual lmao. She's mostly into women and only has like 2 kinds of men she likes)

I've mentioned her temper before, it gets her in trouble a lot. She'll just kind of charge into a problem and think the way to solve it is punching it. Works half the time, other half the time someone with a more level head has to stop her.

Ends up continuing being a thief even after her first big ass heist/adventure with Lupin and her name is cleared of her cousin's death thanks to Zenigata (and Lupin finding out the woman who murdered the cousin's business partner was keeping dirt and evidence on her in case he ever wanted to take over the company they ran together fully, Lupin gave all the dirt to Zenigata to sort out.). She goes on a lull for a year after parting ways with the Lupin gang, not expecting to see any of them except for Fujiko because her and Fujiko got close when Fujiko was training her for two years and they like having lunch together. She gets antsy after almost a full year and misses the thrill of being a thief surprisingly and dresses up as Lion to steal occasionally. She doesn't really need any money from it, she just loves the adrenaline and the challenge.

Meets Lupin again after that year when he surprisingly approaches her with a job he needs her skillset for (he was on the fence about it because he figured she would go back to a normal life after their team up with her family treasure, but he figures out some thefts in New York where she lived was her MO and is like fuck it I'm desperate I need help.). After hearing what he needed from her she agreed and they both went to her criminal bestie (the one who helped her disappear before and even introduced her to Fujiko), Charlie (he's a drag queen too whose stage persona is Tammy Guhn. He thought it would be funny because he's actually a mob boss outside of his front of owning a drag club.) who has a pretty good ear to the underground and can help Lupin with his first lead and his and Kahlia's second partnership together.

Grew up in Hawaii most of her life, left it after college to live in New York for a change of pace. Was pretty dirt poor prior to becoming a thief.

Used to go to Japan sometimes during the summer growing up and that's why she's close to the Japanese side of her family and is fluent in Japanese.

Took a bullet for Lupin from one of the mercenaries that were after her for her half of the family key during her family vault heist. They wanted to kill Lupin to get him out of the picture because him and his gang were annoying their boss with helping Lia out. Because they knew him and the others were far more competent that Kahlia could be at this. (she didn't wanna watch someone die again in front of her like with her cousin and just kind of acted on impulse.)

Has a cool ass ugly scar tho on her shoulder now because of it. Her and Lupin became bros after that.

They both are not allowed to be left alone because Kahlia encourages Lupin's unhinged impulsive side and he does the same to her. Stupid stuff happens when they are left to their own devices.

She's basically a brawny girl with a big heart and hot head that likes beer lmao. And jazz.

Her favorite singer is Billie Holiday

Definitely dated Fujiko

Lupin is not usually her type of man, she's more into older men with dad bods and are beefy. Little freak weaseled his way into her heart because he makes her laugh and seeing this dangerous, violent criminal's soft side got her ass. When she realized she liked him she went GOD DAMMIT because she thought he was an insufferable little creep when she met him haha.

[stardust-in-my-mind-blog]

toxic blindness

the depth of trauma isn't necessarily

about the event or situation or people involved

the wound is all about the pain inflicted

and those who choose to refuse to see it

the suffering that people tell you isn't true

so you can't even trust your own symptoms

the wisdom of your own body or memory

they tell you it's your fault or a pattern to invalidate it

it's about how something takes the truth away from you

or forces you to bury the shame of it inside yourself

it is the blank stare of someone being unable to

process your experience or accept your perception

and tells you that it's your tone or the way you express it

that makes everything burning inside you untrue

it's about how you blind yourself to survive it

and yesterday there was a moment where I realized

just how many times you plucked out my eyes

just to save your own delusions

and how very little you care about things you use

I will need to make an appointment for Vincent

I remember calling him into my life when my youngest was born

he would be the Shadow I loved from Homeward Bound

golden and sweet and a guardian for the life

I thought I was building with you

and he was everything he should have been

when we got him from the Amish house

the woman selling him had tears in her eyes

and even wrote in his paperwork that he was her favorite

she'd named him Dane and praised his sweetness

and he was everything our family needed

he even learned how to heard chickens and rabbits

and was so gentle with everything

last year I cut his hair to look like a lion

and he really looked like one

my golden liondog who lost all his vitality in the winter

even with the baths and medicine and treatment

I tried to give him the disease of this house's energy

manifested as some kind of cancer and infection

his hair is falling out and sores are all over his body

at first he didn't seem to be in pain but now

all he wants to do is sleep to escape living

and it's time for me to be with him until the end

it's something that's very hard to face because he was

such a loyal guardian and companion

and we spoke about it the other day

how it was time to make an appointment with the vet

watching him die fills everything inside me with dread

I feel like I failed him somehow or didn't do enough

I know illness doesn't work like that but my heart doesn't

I just wanted to save him and I couldn't

and now I get to make a call to put him to death

and be there with him when he takes that last breath

and you said to me in the car with the sun shining

you didn't even say this in darkness

you casually mentioned we could call animal services

they'd come pick up him and get rid of the body

we likely wouldn't even have to pay anything

and I wonder how bad you wish you could do the same with me

then you mentioned something about us just being

physically separated and therapy and I tell you

I don't even want to share lawyers with you because

this event is no longer amicable but I'm

playing the role for the kids while I uncover

every infected wound from last summer that keeps me

from being able to use my logical facilities

to move forward and get the fuck away from you

and after fifteen conversations where I told you

that we may have different opinions of the status of your abuse

that's fine because I don't have anything to prove to you

but I think people who don't thrive on gaslighting

their autistic wife into a state of mental disability

will find my evidence I compiled to keep my sanity

far more interesting than your unearned arrogance

and you asked me why I was doing this

if I just wanted to take Theo away from you

but only one of us have ever threatened that

you also tried to kill yourself with Vyvanse

you put me through a blender until all I was was fear

and a growing sorrowful rage that I feared in myself

look at you making another fucking projection

patterns of behavior really die hard don't they

you hate your polluted soul you want to blame it on me

I told you that my intention was to know all of my options

and that after looking them all over

I would choose just like you did these last four years

I will do whatever is best for my interests

and bed you made for yourself

I don't even care about the outcome now

I'm just looking forward to the experience

because you punished me for having any sort of desire

or emotion or dreams outside your conniving

and manipulative and superficial judgement

your limiting scarcity mindset

but my name means judgement of god

and my household gods have so many ideas

on what they want to do with the man who treated

their daughter like a broken and rejected toy

you never were good at keeping anything nice

I suppose it has something to do with respect

and that's something in our relationship that was sorely neglected

you denied my experience so often that you believe

only your own version of the story

you'd even throw your own dog in the trash

just to avoid responsibility for anything

and I'm purging and releasing all of it

creating something out of this stagnant energy

Florence sings so many haunting songs

but my favorite line is the one where she says

every song I wrote was an escape rope

tied around my neck pulling me up to heaven

and from that vantage point

it's going to be real nice

watching you burn in hell

seize the day motherfucker

because soon it will be night

[fenwaybelle]

Life and Something Else by Fenway Belle

I really didn’t mean to cheat on Les again. It really is such a tough habit to break. I love Les and all but every time I stop by Paddy’s Pub this new bartender hits on me and he’s just so charming–he’s got tattoos you know. But I don’t know, something about it just makes me feel like a girl again. Like there are still possibilities, like my life doesn’t begin and end in 2117 Audley Terrace in a one floor, one bedroom, one bathroom house. Like I’m more than a bored housewife waiting for my three and a half hours of socialization with my husband when he gets home from selling used cars. As if I’d just submit to that sad life.

His name is Ash, like, what a name. That’s the name of someone where things happen in their life. Les tends to fall asleep in front of the television while watching CNN. I never really got to date around and see what was out there, Les and I have been together since high school. I always wished I tried out my options before getting married. So I started going to Paddy’s just to see what was happening, just see who is out there in the world. Paddy’s is basically the only place in town to go that isn’t Food Lion. So I met Ash there nearly a year ago, a handsome 27 year old with his whole life ahead of him. He said he liked my hair. I work hard on my hair. I told myself a little flirting isn’t going to kill anybody. So I flirted.

Then I end up back in his apartment laying on his couch bed watching his ceiling fan spin and make shadows on his walls while he microwaves a Jenny Craig meal out in the kitchen. He’s pretty for sure, but I’m always crudely reminded that he’s just a young bartender. I’ve only slept with Ash a handful of times, but it always ends like this; just me and that ceiling fan going around in circles wondering how we got here.

This is Ash’s second time at my house even though we’ve been sleeping together for a year. We are laying in bed and his eyes scan my pathetic little bedroom. He seems perplexed by it, as if he is trying to look for me in the toile wallpaper and can’t find me. I consider telling him that it’s peel and stick, not real wallpaper. Instead I trace the bible passage inked on his chest.

“So your husband,” he begins, “Does he make you happy?”

I snuggle into his side sleepily, it feels good to have his body next to me. “I thought we agreed not to talk about him.”

He looks at me and tucks a piece of hair behind my ear. “I just want to know. Are you happy with him? I mean you’re with me for a reason.”

Men always do this, particularly after sex. It’s all one big pissing contest. Each man you will ever meet always wants to be the most important one in your life. I deflect, “What sort of a question is that? He’s my husband.”

“That doesn’t mean he should stay your husband.” Oh for Pete’s sake here we go again.

Although I argue against him, I love it when he pushes back like that, “You’re young. You don’t know what it means to be married.”

Ash sits up, “It seems like it means jack shit when you’re lying here with me.”

“Just lay down,” I tell him gently. “You don’t have to think about that. My husband is my life and you’re something else. You’re what I want. You’re right now.”

Ash swings his legs off the bed, “So I’m just a passing desire? I’m not even real to you?”

I sit up a bit, I have no idea what he’s being so sensitive about. Out of all the men I’ve cheated on Les with, Ash is by far the touchiest. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.” That is what I meant, though.

Ash stomps around looking for his clothes. He finds his boxers and pulls them on. He stands at the foot of the bed and looks at me like he hates me and like he loves me. “Look. I want to be with you. We both know that. I just don’t know what you want. I don’t know how long you expect this to go on for.”

“Would you just calm down and come back to bed?”

“I just don’t think you should be married if you’re going to sleep with me.”

“You just ooze naivety, darling.”

I hear a familiar click of the lock of our aluminum front door. It is only 5:30. Ash’s eyes go wide and he rushes around the room putting on the rest of his clothes. I stay in bed and stretch out my legs. Ash looks at me, frantic. He says, “What the fuck! Get up!” over and over again.

Ash skitters about the room like a fly smacking against a window. I find myself staring at the ceiling, watching my fan go around and around. I swear that fan is the only thing that has any sense in my life. Here we go again, old pal, it’s just you and me.

The doorknob for the bedroom jiggles and I grab my robe from my bedpost and wrap it around my body. Les walks in and gives the scene a once-over. I expect him to scream. He screamed the first time he caught me. That is not what he does now.

Les nods and gives a little “Hm.” He rubs his eyes beneath his glasses and then turns and leaves. He walks over to our dingy little living room and sits on the couch and flicks on the TV. I follow him out and a moment later Ash is standing behind me. Les doesn’t look at me when he says, “What’s for dinner?”

I stand there, looking rather disheveled and wearing only my robe. I say, “I stopped by Food Lion and picked up some London broil, that okay?” I chuckle to myself as I realize all my hobbies are under one roof: cooking, fucking, and wifing.

Les grunts instead of saying “yes” and kicks his shoes off, throwing them towards the TV. “Let me know when it’s ready.”

Ash is holding his sweater in his hands and he stares at me. I lead him out of the door.

I look over at Les and I ask, “Do you want vegetables with that?”

[memymay]

Aznad, aka Az, and her long awaited backstory.

Part 1: The Beginning.

Part 2 ⭐️

Original Character Masterlist ⭐️

Pencil paper Drawing ⭐️

Digital Drawing ⭐️

Tw: Death, Murder (not shown in scene)

To start we have two raven beatskins, Malla and Amman. They were chased out of their home by angry villagers. They did nothing wrong, however, the villagers were rather insistent on blaming them for everything that went wrong. Malla was pregnant at the time, and they were desperately searching for a new home. During their search, they found an old dwarven tunnel and decided to follow it. Doing so they found themselves inside a dungeon. They weren’t planning on settling there, just trying to find some help, maybe some supplies. Amman was no stranger to combat, and could harvest some monster meat if worse came to wear. However, the found themselves lost, but unlike most, the dungeon was giving. when they needed water, they found it, when they needed food, a low level monster would come. They were able to live comfortably, settling in an old house on the 4th floor.

Eventually, when Malla was nearing her due date, the couple stumbled upon an orc camp. The orcs, while reluctant at first, agreed to trade with them. And soon they became good friends. It was through the tribe that they met a young Senshi, who would often sell them vegetable and help teach them to survive. When the time came, the orc tribe even helped Malla give birth. They hadn’t picked a name out, afraid that the assult that left them homeless could have killed their unborn baby. The child was born, though she was a bit underdeveloped and sickly, she was alive. After a week resting at the orc camp, the two settled on a name. It was one that Senshi recommended, Aznad.

They lived a good life for the first few years, senshi would often babysit, taking a young Az with him to the upper levels. Life was truly good, they even had another child, a boy they named Talla. The baby was barely 2 years old when the tragedy happened. They were walking back from a visit to the orcs, Talla was asleep in his mother’s arms. Az, now four years old, was trailing behind her parents. She was enamored with a doll the orcs had made for her. It looked like her, and she had opted to name it Minnie (it was really Mini me). She heard a scream, and looked up to see a group of adventurers running full force towards the group, weapons drawn. She didn’t understand what was happening, until shot an arrow through her mother’s wing.

Her eyes widened in horror. The realization dawning on her as she turned and ran. Not even a few steps behind her, there was one. He was shorter, but she didn’t care to get a good look at him before covering herself with her wings and running as fast as her little legs could take her ‘your body is weak, it gets hurt easy. When your wrestling with the other orc kids, make sure to use your wings. They’re strong and can take a lot of damage’ her father had told her once, after she had sprained her wrist. That, along with the tips the orcs had taught her during hide n’ seek and tag she was able to make it out relatively unharmed. While she would realize for a long long time, the orcs had internally taught her those tricks, knowing that her and her family would eventually targeted.

Back at the camp she frantically rushed towards the chief, who had come out to question her. “Bad men are chasing me, they hurt momma, i- they- they shot at her. Why would they do this?” She broke down, sobbing into the arms of another orc who had come to comfort her.

“Listen hunny, do you remember where you were? Where are your parents now?”

“We -hic- we were heading home when they- they-“

“I’ve already got a group heading that way” one of the orcs commented

“Do you know when the came from?”

“The- i think- we were at the edge, and they came from- i- this direction” she lifted up her right hand, “I was looking at the- the weird lion fountain thing, and they- it was a path on this side”

She didn’t know at the time, but when the orcs found where they were assaulted, they found a path of blood trailing away. The adventures, damn monsters The treated her family as animals, to be hunted for fun.

In the wake of this tragedy, she mostly lived with senshi on the upper levels. The orcs were very very reluctant to let her up there. Even under Senshi’s watchful eye. Way too many tall men and elves up there. How could they know that she wouldn’t attack her like they did her parents. But she was a smart child, wanted to learn everything there was to know. She couldn’t do that with them, at least not long enough to satisfy her. That, and the painful memories were too much, and she just couldn’t live there. She would meet with the orcs when Senshi would deliver them their veggies, but aside from that, it would take years for her to be able to head back to the old marketplace.

End of Part 1

[lunasmusemenagerie]

Name: Xander

Race: Manticore

Type: OC

FC: Froy Gutierrez

Background:

Xander grew up amongst the smaller group in the siberian snows, with the core coalition of Winged Lions. He trained alongside Raziel, and second only to him in weapons, though preferred weapons in human form is usually daggers. He'd often be paired with Raziel in training and scouting missions, as well as quick hits when needed.

Xander was one of the members that was ambushed by dragons, and pulled to the ground, bloodied and broken. However, rather than being killed or devoured, he was chained and drug through the snow to face a man name Nikita Barinov, who had aparently been hunting the Lions and Manticore to recruit and use in his grand vision to destroy the rising Old Ones. He was brought back to Nikita's base of operations to be studied and experimented on / with, the venom for tail and bite specifically.

He became more erratic, violent and feral the longer he stayed with them having to be sedated and kept in human form for the safety of 'himself and others'. When the venom seemed to have little to no effect on the elder gods, Nikita found him to out of control to he of much use now, and bartered a deal with hunters. They'd receive a manticore to hunt or sell, and he'd receive another creature to study.

Xander was placed in arena fights, more used to show off the creatures and their strengths to potential buyers, for hunters that wanted to claim a prize of a lifetime. He'd been paired with another manticore by the name of Griff. They were kept in beast form, beaten and chained to keep them from running, venom stolen for weapons. They were chosen by a group of elite hunters, a family Xander didn't recognize the name of, to be released and hunted down for fun. Together, he and Griff managed to outsmart the hunters and kill them, finding away to disable the fence that held then in there and took off, on the run together since.

Info: Xander has several scars on his ribs, and a tattoo down on the back of his neck, an ownership tattoo from the pits, and stats from the fights (to be scanned and it'll pop up.) His jaw has a few scars from the muzzle that had been placed on him from the pits and his time with Nikita.

Xander is 19-25, bisexual.

[lumiarc]

HIMEKO 'ARTEMIS' FUJIWARA. 25 YEARS / FAKE MEDIUM.

the strong scent of burning incense; the quiet night littered with fireflies; a home far away; transversing messages through the filaments of life and death; rumours spread in smirking whispers; unassuming background soaked in quiet luxury.

artem is a child of lies, or so many mouths would mutter. there's no room to believe in mediumship when the day no longer courts superstitions, but artem will gladly take $100 per session for every client who asks for her to find out what happened to their beloved, or to send a message to those who have passed, peacefully or not. the skeptics and cynics would deem it nothing but a scam, and all the more infuriating is how she doesn't feel the need to justify herself, going around simply nodding along to what people would like to believe. she's a wildcard, an unknown one—in truth: she descends from a long line of wealth in tokyo, with her family possessing spiritual powers hidden from those not in the know. currently living far from her home country, artem is mostly here to gain experience before she returns and fulfils her familial duties. until then, she'll be this odd city girl, frolicking without a worry in the world for any actual career to support her supposedly lavish lifestyle.

-- lively / talkative / adaptive / carefree / friendly / extroverted / whimsical.

KOSMA HWANG. 30 YEARS / ASSASSIN & PAINTER.

the kind of quiet death imposed furtively; silver bullets lodged into the depth of the night; late-night soliloquies; various-sized brushes stacked on neat shelves; irregular tubes of oil paints; eyes trained on either a hit target or an art piece.

when asked about anything private, kosma would typically smile and spill nothing. there's not much to speak of when it comes to his background, after all—he grew up in a so-called lion den raising the children into weapons as a way to give them survival instincts, and he has never known anything about his biological family. he doesn't believe that anyone would want to hear anything about his latest kill either. a job is a job. grotesque details aside, kosma does what's needed of him to survive. he lives comfortably, with his fame among the underground criminals rising rapidly over the past decade, naming him one of the deadliest in the world. not that it matters. on quiet days, he would rather stay in his apartment at the nook of the city, painting away. on a superficial basis, many can tell that he's made a name among niche art collectors, with his pieces selling in hundreds of thousands when put up on auctions.

-- creative / quiet / cantankerous / versatile / moody / resourceful / competitive.

CORALINE AGUIRRE. 33 YEARS / WEAPON DEALER & BOOKSTORE OWNER.

shifting through pages in the company of a night's pitter-patter; the kind of smile disarmingly unfit for the situations; chameleon-like skin shed when necessary; the quaint nook of an old bookstore; careful shelving curated in meticulous orders; the scent of brewed tea throughout the day.

coraline has never lived the lavish life many thought she was destined to have—someone like her was meant to exploit one of her advantages: conventionally pretty, academically gifted, and interpersonally equipped. her parents raised her to be the golden child of the aguirre, except that she bent her own paths backwards and chose to live a simple life of a bookstore owner. master's degree from ivy league aside, she'd rather not work hard for the rest of her life doing something she doesn't enjoy. still, when her father passed, his last will was for her to carry on the empire that kept their family fed for decades in the land of the cruel: weapon dealing. it's a skill acquired and a skill mastered in the first two years of her life, although she barely shows it. she still carries on with opening her mid-sized bookstore every day, except for when the other duty calls.

-- complacent / two-faced / matter-of-fact / unbending / laid-back / bibliophile.

SHILOH ELIAS. 31 YEARS / SECRET AGENT & SHIPPING HEIR.

cigarettes lit against the firmament of dawn; suit and tie galas; gossip printed all over the internet; the quintessential lifestyles written on social media; the mixed smell of gunpowder and martini; the sillage of all-too-expensive perfume inhaled with a smirk.

to frame shiloh in an adjective has been proven difficult. the man is elusive, for sure, that he'd never coin a term for himself. one, he's the heir of an entire shipping empire that he's barely interested in, but he has to when his brother is more deadbeat than he is. two, he once graced the media with his endless strings of a-listed celebrity lovers, creating quite a consumption of flames to revel in his beauty and money. three, nobody has ever known what he does exactly. he's never quite there at the office, and he's never quite there at his mansion. work? questionable. the truth is, he runs one of the esteemed private secret service organizations, becoming one of their prolific agents. all of those rumours? part of the mission. all of the stunts? you guessed it. he is hard to pin down, and even when his first impression is thought to be otherwise—a shallow, privileged heir who would spend so much for a futile party—it's quite a task to figure him out.

-- deceitful / stubborn / secretive / easygoing / effective / intelligent / adaptive.

ALISTAIR AHN. 26 YEARS / INTERN & VIGILANTE.

incessant streams of monetary support; the kind of smile that many would love to hate; dubious work ethics; askew moral compass pointed in the right direction regardless; removed from conventional mannerism; a neglected child left with nothing but ghosts of a parent's adoration.

even when some people would look at alistair in either pity or confusion, there's no need for both. it's easier to be baptized an unofficial orphan when he has that kind of bank account enough to feed the whole city for a year or more. since his parents' divorce more than a decade ago, his parents have never remarried, so he's the sole child of his father, who runs various hotels across the world, and his mother, who spearheads one of the biggest law firms in the country. in this case, alistair has never needed to work in his life if he so wishes, but he has to keep up an appearance somehow. his father sends him monthly pocket money, and his mother allows him to pose as an intern. parental cookies for each, really. apart from parading as a lowly intern, he is actually busy, however. if that random radioactive spider had never chosen to bite him, this wouldn't have happened, but alas— he might be spiderman, or rather, that shadow of black swinging from building to building, but no one needs to know that he has a heart for the voluntary work, really.

-- insouciant / shameless / misleading / punchworthy / extravagant / equivocal.

CASPIAN INOUE. 27 YEARS / UNDERWORLD ERRAND RUNNER.

smoke and mirror leading to another world; a smirk while figuring out something grotesque; deals with those dwelling in the darkest pit of hell; charms reserved to obtain impossible tasks; unearthing teeth from corpses six feet under; dirty deeds done for the inexplicable.

nobody really knows where he came from, and neither does he—he isn't just his parents' son, for sure, when all these demons know of him the moment they see him. he was born in the world with no sign of anomalies except for when his grandmother said that he had his third eye open. his father scoffed, his mother laughed, and his sister shrugged. there was no use harbouring such a premonition about a child that was accidental; thirteen years younger than his sister, and he grew up typical. he retained his mother's good looks, his father's wild predilections, and his sister's cynical attitude. the best of the worlds combined, really, until he started chasing demons in his teenage years. now, he's been travelling everywhere to fulfil his part of the deal: he is to live comfortably, free of any mortal woes, as long as he strikes jobs with those dwelling underneath the human realms. running errands for demons tends to be easy; it's usually teeth, or bones, or herbs, until he sometimes has to sacrifice some people in very elaborate rituals.

-- agile / unpredictable / receptive / intelligent / suspicious / flighty / mysterious.

[heartysworld]

The Letter || Daemon Targaryen x Reader

A/N: More Daemon content was demanded of me and now I have delivered! This was another request and I hope whoever asked about this enjoys it as much as I did. The new episode inspired me even more! (We love a war daddy Daemon)

MASTERLIST

You straddled the saddle of your house,reigns gripped tightly in your hands as you sped away from the established hunting camp escaping deep in the forest.

Your eyes were full of angry tears. How dare your father try and sell you off to the first man who expresses any type of interest in you, especially a lion,Jason Lannister. A dragon and a lion could never be.

Being the oldest of two daughters you were supposed to be the more mature one,the wiser one,but not now,not when your father had lost his mind after getting his dream heir.

People were whispering, speculating about you being cleared as an heir to the throne, being replaced by your toddler brother who couldn't even speak yet.

At a moment like this you'd kill to have the chance to spent even a minute with your late mother. Queen Aemma always knew what to do,how to handle her husband and children, without her your entire family was in pure chaos.

Your only comfort left was your uncle,Prince Daemon. You had found yourself infatuated with him, the way he spoke and the way his body language seemed to do wonders for you every time he was close to you. If given the chance, you'd drop everything and accept him as a husband the moment it is asked, but the chances were low.

He had gone to war without the King's permission which angered Viserys even more, leading to him refusing any king of aid. You knew Daemon would be okay,that he would come back alive,but there was always that small grain of doubt and uncertainty.

You spent the remainder of the day on horseback, enjoying the piece and quiet and the fresh air. It was nice to get away from the smell of alcohol and dead animals.

When you came back to the camp you were swept away by your younger sister- Rhaenyra, the only other living creature besides Daemon who you loved unconditionally.

"I was worried about you, sister. You disappeared out of thin air, nobody could find you anywhere." Rhaenyra said while holding your hand,the two of you headed towards your tent to retire for the night.

"I needed to clear my mind, my dear sister. To this about more important things than a marriage out of convenience." You said.

Rhaenyra knew what you meant by more important things, she knew who your secret lover was and she couldn't say anything against it, you were happy, glowing even, after every encounter with Daemon even if it lasted mere seconds only.

"You know...if you wish, I can send a letter for him. Nobody is going to find out, no one." Rhaenyra said, her voice quieter now, trying to avoid further problems.

Your eyes widened at her suggestion.

"I can't ask that of you, Rhaenyra. If father finds out..." You said.

"He will not find out. I can do it, trust me. You just have to write the letter,no family seal on it. It will be in Daemon's hands by sunset tomorrow, at latest." She reassured you.

A few minutes passed before you made a decision, hugging your younger sister you headed towards the neraby table, starting on with your letter.

It was hard for you to find the words to express how you're feeling. You missed him, that was certain, but you never thought about how he saw you, what he thought about whatever has has happened between you so far.

After an agonizing hour or so with no further progress you decided to risk it all, spill all of your thoughts and feelings in this letter. It had be said, sooner or later, you needed him to know how you felt before your father decides to stop putting off your marriage.

Your letter said:

Being apart from you is more difficult than I ever imagined. I see reminders of you everywhere I look, and they make me ache to be near you again. Father has started the process of finding me a suitor, someone who will be willing to marry me. I am heartbroken, I yearn for you,my love, day and night.

I love you with all my heart. I cherish every moment we spend together, and I love you even more in the moments when we are apart. Tonight as I write this letter, it's like you are right here with me. I feel your hand on my shoulder, your fingers in my hair, and the soft breath of your kiss on my cheek. I miss you, darling. Come home soon. Back to me

All my love, Princess Y/N

You didn't think twice after finishing writing, you rolled up the parchment and quickly sealed it.

"I trust you and your men to get this to Daemon unnoticed, Rhaenyra. Nobody must find out. Not until he's back." You said, handing the piece of parchment to your sister.

"Have I ever gave you any reason for you to doubt me that much, sister. I don't think so. Your lover will receive this. Worry not." She said,a smile on her face.

You couldn't bring yourself to ask about the name of the man who was going to deliver your letter, it was better to stay this way. Only only hoped that sending it wasn't a big mistake. You could only wait now.

Hours passed, turned into days which turned into weeks. Daemon was still out there, no news from him, nothing. Even your father haven't received any letters from the Velaryons. You were even more worried now.

It was midday in King's Landing. You were coming back from your daily stroll around the garden. Suddenly, you felt two strong hands grab your waist, pulling you in a dark hallway.

A scream escaped from your mouth but one of the hands that held your waist quickly went over it, preventing you from letting out another sound.

"Shh, it's me, my little flame. Don't be scared." Daemon whispered in your ear,his voice sending shivers down your spine.

His hand moved from your mouth, revealing your beautiful face to the man you've longed for over half a year.

"Daemon." You whispered back. You couldn't believe he was back to you, that you were in his arms.

He bent down, his lips against your cheek, brushing it lightly—and still that light touch sent shivers through your nerves, shivers that made your whole body tremble.

"If you want me to stop, tell me now," he whispered. When you still said nothing, he brushed his mouth against the hollow of your temple. "Or now." He traced the line of your cheekbone. "Or now." His lips were against yours.

‘Or—’

But you reached up and pulled him down to you, and the rest of his words were lost against your mouth. He kissed you gently, carefully, but it wasn’t gentleness you wanted, not now, not after all this time, and you knotted fists in his shirt, pulling him harder against your body. He groaned softly, low in his throat, and then his arms circled your waist, gathering you against him, pressed against the wall,tangled together, the two of you were kissing as if there was no tomorrow.

You don't remember how long your kiss lasted, your mind was foggy.

You pulled away from Daemon when you ran out of breath. Your hands going to his face, holding it gently.

"You're back." You said, taking in his appearance.

"I am back, and I am not leaving without you." He said, leaning close to you again, stealing another quick kiss.

You laughed at his gesture.

"Did you receive my letter?" You asked against his lips.

A sharp breath came out of his mind.

"I did. I did receive it, little flame, ever since I read that letter you have been the only thing on my mind. I dreamed of you, I found for you and I thought of you every single minute. You were in my dreams every night, Gods the things I did to you in those dreams of mind. I can barely contain myself from taking you right here against that wall,my love. I love you, all I did was for you ." Daemon said.

His words made your eyes water. He loved you, your biggest wish had come true. Nothing else mattered anymore, not even your father's word.

Something laying on his now shorter hair caught your sight, it was a crown. Your eyes furrowed.

"Daemon, what is this?" You asked, hands slowly reaching for the shiny object.

"It's my crown, my dear. I've been named King of the Stepstones and the Narrow sea, and I've come to claim my bride as well." He said.

His words made you laugh while he picked you up in his arms, spinning you around.

The Court was talking, people were constantly whispering about the return of their Prince with a crown on his head and a bride-to-be by his side.

Your father was furious, he was angry at Daemon for defying his word and disobeying him,but when the topic of you marriage came, Viserys couldn't ignore the pleading look on your face and the way your eyes shined whenever you looked at Daemon.

At the end you did receive the King's blessings to marry the man you loved. You were happy that your father agreed, however, Daemon claimed that even if Viserys denied your marriage request, he would've taken other...actions, in order to prevent a marriage to someone else.

Rhaenyra was happy for you. Seeing her older sister marry the man she loved was one of the things she wished to see happen one day. You could never repay your sister for what she did to you that day months ago. A letter, and a little bit of help was all that was needed.

[blood-of-ink]

Heart of The Storm -1

Warnings: Vampire whumpee, whumper turned whumpee, werewolf caretaker, blood bag caretaker, family death mention, rotting wounds, mentions of captivity, mentions of female character being held prisoner (No whump), blood drinking, brief non-sexual nudity, abuse, illness, delirium.

Taglist: @purple-heart-x

NOTE: The female character was only kept to be trained as a guard dog, because she is a werewolf, not for torture or anything sexual

The vampire stroked his cold fingers over her head. The werewolf shuddered under the touch, not from fear, but rage.

She would give anything to have his muzzle removed, so that she could tear that smug smirk off of his face.

She hated the vampire, and growled her displeasure.

“Shh. You’ll learn to love me.” The vampire crooned, rubbing her ear with his fingers.

The werewolf flicked it out of his grip, snarling under the muzzle. If not for the chain locked around her neck, she’d try to surprise the vampire, pushing him into the sunlight, which would incapacitate him long enough for her to run.

The lack of a full moon didn’t matter. A pureblooded werewolf could transform without trouble at any time they wished. The full moon just forced the transformation.

“So ferocious.” The vampire murmured. “You’ll make such a good guard dog, once you’re properly trained.”

Never. The werewolf thought.

“You’ll learn. Good dog.”

Zaina sat up in a cold sweat, breathing heavily.

She hated dreaming about her time as Azrael’s ‘pet’.

Fucking parasite. She thought furiously. Not that he’d ever bitten her. Her blood was poisonous to him, just like her bite, and her claws.

There had been a time when Zaina had believed that Vampires were judged too harshly, that hunting them was unfair.

That was before they’d slaughtered her family, and taken her away to sell at an auction.

Where Azrael had bought her.

A year and a half spent chained up, near constantly muzzled. 

Zaina got up, stripping down, and folding her clothes up neatly. She walked down to the front door, and opened it. She didn’t worry about being seen. Her house was in the forest, with no neighbours for a mile in any direction, and surrounded by trees. 

She jumped off the porch as a young woman, and landed on the ground as a wolf that was the size of a lion.

Zaina growled, shaking her fur out, yellow eyes narrowing as she stalked forward, sniffing the air.

She caught a familiar scent, and sat down, watching as the human approached.

Chris.

Azrael’s former blood bag. Another reason she hated vampires. They could drink animal blood, yet they still took humans.

Parasites.

“Good morning.” Zaina yawned, her voice raspy and reverberating, as it always was in her wolf form.

“Morning, Zaina.”

“You seem worried.” The werewolf noted. “What’s wrong?”

“They haven’t killed him.” Chris said, and Zaina’s blood ran cold.

“He escaped?”

“No. They still have him. But he’s alive.”

Zaina relaxed slightly.

“I was thinking of going down. Killing him myself. Getting some closure. Would you like to come?”

“Not really. Never seeing him again is still too much contact with him.” She’d been kept by Azrael for a year and a half, Chris had been kept for three months.

“Yeah. Makes sense.” Chris said calmly. “I’ll come back when it’s done.”

The sun was up again. Azrael could tell by the sudden increase in nausea that spiked in his gut.

Sun sickness got worse the longer the time of exposure, and he’d been outside for two solid weeks without a break.

He didn’t think it was possible for him to feel anymore overheated, sick, and miserable, yet it did. Day by day.

He heard voices, but was too out of it to really understand what was being said.

The vampire moaned, turning his head weakly. He strained to speak, to beg for mercy. He felt so sick, and his voice was failing him.

All he managed was a weak “Please.”

Pain throbbed through his body, emanating from the claw wounds on his stomach, and the bite on his arm.

Werewolf venom was a miserable thing for a vampire. Even when healthy, it could take over a year for a werewolf bite, or claw wound, to heal.

And Azrael definitely wasn’t healthy.

Something dug into his mutilated stomach, and he whined in pain.

Chris stared down at the mess that had once held him prisoner.

The first thing that had struck him when entering the vampire’s open topped cell, was the stench of rotting flesh.

“Fucking bloodsucker.” The Hunter growled, even as Azrael whimpered on the floor. “This the one that had you?”

Chris nodded, unable to take his eyes off the trembling vampire.

“Well, we were just about to get rid of it, but if you want to take it, feel free.”

“Thank you. I think I will.” 

“Sure. Let me load it into a crate for you, so you can have your fun with it.”

Chris nodded mutely.

As soon as the cage containing his former prisoner had been loaded into the back of his car,the smell of rotting flesh became overpowering.

It wasn’t hard to see why.

On the Vampire’s arm and stomach, were hideously rotting wounds.

One of them, the one on his arm, was from Zaina, the day they were freed, ten months prior. And it had festered so badly that it was far bigger than the original bite had been.

Chris inhaled deeply, and then regretted it as bile rose in his throat at the stench.

“Now for the hard part.” He sighed. “Telling Zaina, and convincing her to help.”

Zaina smelled the vampire before she saw it. Or rather, smelled the rotting wounds on the creature.

Yet at first, this didn’t even register.

Before she had time to think, she was already transformed and lunging.

“Zaina, hey, stop!” Chris shouted, barely dodging her.

Zaina snarled, but froze up when she realized that Chris was carrying Azrael, and that the vampire was crying.

“Pl-ple-ease…” He whimpered. “M’so hot.” 

Zaina flattened her ears.

“Explain. Now.” She growled.