#but given the lobotomies I doubt it would do much

[catrinaroseprince]

Sometimes, being a fan of Castiel Supernatural has you on your knees crying to God because he did something stupid once again, something which entirely lines up with his character and motivations (catholic guilt and gay yearning) but also so painfully idiotic that you just gotta

[kit-williams]

Transactions

Male Lead: Konrad Curze/Solruthis Uadasha/The Night Haunter (Sol being his nickname) Female Lead: Reader/Sorsollia (sun that illuminates) CW: SEX, Obsession, baby trapping, yandere, not exactly dubcon but some sexual boundaries aren't respected Word Count: 2256

Know what the best thing about Dividers are... I can use them when I don't wanna spend time talking about the boring stuff

Again using this for the Nostroman words (I included translations this time)

thanks @squishyowl for the lovely 40k dividers

@bispecsual @egrets-not-regrets @moodymisty @bleedingichorhearts @liar-anubiass-blog

@thevoidscreams @barn-anon @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan @squishyowl @ms--lobotomy

@nekotaetae @sleepyfan-blog

You took to him like flies do to rotting meat and he was pleased with that. Conversations dragged on and beyond what they were meant to as more often then not you would stay in his presence as you worked on the more tedious duties being a scribe brought you. But this allowed you to get closer to him which he wanted.

You paused as he was talking about something and you looked at him. He knew that look, a dark smile passed his lips, "What did you think of me like Lorgar? Unaware of such capricious and often bawdy thoughts and glances of the opposite sex?" He gets up slowly walking over to where you worked, "Or would libidinous fit better?" He leans in watching you get smaller as he enters your space more and more, "Perhaps even concupiscent!" He trills before mouthing the back of your neck and smelling that sharp change in your scent.

"I just... I..." You stutter as you are flustered and squirming as one of his hands comes and cups your breast.

"It's alright if you made that mistake. Unlike you mortals sex isn't as... required to function as most of you need."

"Sol you know its more than that." You say as if stating the obvious.

He grinned into your hair playing dumb as he knew Nostromo was far from normal or sane. Seeing what items you needed to keep yourself sane in the dark ship as your room, like the other non natives, was so much brighter than most. Its why he called you his Sorsollia. "No Sorsollia I do not know. Upon Nostromo sex is a transaction like many things. If I gave you sex either it is because I am after something you have or you are giving me something I want." He explains as she looks up disappointed.

"Surely just love and affection can be a reason to have sex. I really doubt-"

"Perhaps amongst the hill people." He hums softly, "But I smell your desire..." and your fecundity, "Do you want to partake in the transaction?"

You shake your head surprising the Primarch yet again, "Solruthis Uadasha, I don't want anything other than affection and actual I suppose desire and care. I don't like the idea of sex just being a transaction between us... like what do you feel like you owe it to me?" You look up at him bewildered as he continues to have a soft patient smile.

"Slightly." He admits as for him he was indebted to you. You were freely giving him affection and treating him like a human like an untrained whore giving too much and not getting enough money for it. But he was ready to make up for it by paying you back with giving you his baby. How adorable you are looking up at him horrified at that revelation.

"Sol." You say sadly.

He cupped your face, "Easy solution to make me not feel this way... stop being so affectionate." He says knowing you won't do that.

"But... I want to be... can't I just give you this freely."

"You would be called very unflattering things back on Nostromo."

"Well good thing I'm not Nostroman." You said back unflinchingly and as if you didn't have to think about it.

His eyes sparkled with deviant delight. And this was why he adored you and exactly why he had given you sugar pills in place of what you were using for birth control. But his little Sorsollia was a forgetful thing as you weren't using it as often... but that only benefited him.

"I've warned you Sorsollia it's transactional..." He whispers leaning in and kissing you as his hair falls free of the loose tie he had it in the black strands caressing your face, "I just want you to keep treating me like you do." He admits with sincerity.

"Sol... you don't have to do this if you don't want to I'll still give you everything I do." You say continuing to damn yourself to his side... damning yourself to being the object of his love and desire. You damned yourself to being the object of his obsession... to be the object of his gaze... to be the object that would truly be the only good thing he could have as a reference for all the disorder and disgust this universe would have. You would be the one thing he could have that no one else would take from him.

"Sorsollia I will do my best to not see it as... transactional... just-"

"A mutual exchange of flesh?" You try to make it better and you do... you always do.

"Hardly mutual."

"How come?"

"I don't think you realize how big I am." He takes your hand and puts it against his crotch.

"I don't see how..." Your eyes widen and he just smiles.

"I am unaroused right now do you still want to try?" Bless the human spirit as you nod and he just grins as he cups your chin trilling down at you. "It will hardly be mutual as I believe I will be... ruining your body for the next man for a long while."

How cute you looked sticking your tongue out while thinking before those beautiful eyes of yours sparkled and you nodded as he ushered you away to lay with him.

How pretty you looked in the pitch black room eyes darting around wanting some bit of light... the flutter of your singular heart made him feel something delightful. He hands you his shirt and in return, after you fiddle with the buttons of your own, you hand him your own. Little transactions you played up the benign discomfort for not participating in it as he drank the sweetness of your reassurances. Greedy slovenly thing he was taking so much more from this... but he would make up for all the unasked for humanizing of him.

His hands wandered over the contours of your naked body... feeling each curve and pressing against the skin. His fingers dipping into the V between your legs his fingers probing. His mouth presses a kiss into the side of your head as he pushes a finger inside of you as you whimper with pleasure. "Say my name." He growls into your ear.

"Solruthis... Uadasha." You moan as his fingers feel so big... you try to grope him but he keeps himself away.

"Not that one... say the other name."

This causes you to pause as he watches you look up at him, where you think he is, "But you aren't that name."

"I want to hear it from you." He pushes his finger deeper and deeper in and listens to you whimper and moan, "I want to hear you say it with the same care and affection in which you call me Sol."

You pause for a moment as if debating on if he really wants to hear it but your mouth moves in its pleasing shapes, "Konrad... Konrad Curze!" You say with such affection... you say with such adoration and tenderness that is the opposite of the cold impassiveness that name was thrust upon him.

"Oh my Sorsollia!" He moans kissing your neck as you feel weightless and dizzy as soon you are pressed onto the bed his cock pushing against your entrance. "Your songlike voice makes hearing that name so bearable."

You giggle as it was very clear he was using his time with Fulgrim to good use, "How very poetic."

"Gothic is far too plain you need to learn Nostroman then I wouldn't have to speak like Fulgrim." By how he speaks you can imagine his nose wrinkling. You can't help but giggle as Sol... Konrad could be affectionate... in his own way. You wonder in that moment when the last time a man's cock had rubbed against your folds raw. You can't help but close your thighs together. You feel his dark grin press into your skin, "Sorsollia... are you scared to take me?" His tongue pressed into the pulse of her neck feeling the quick fluttering pulse.

"Yes..." You say softly.

"Jasha (Good)" He says biting into your skin as he pushes in. You writhe under him, panic floods your basal brain. He learned quickly you fall back on instinct when pain is applied. You bleating his name as your nails try to dig into his flesh trying to pull away. Seconds bleed together for you till the tightness gives way, "Corshia Sey (Breathe now)" He coos to you as he holds you tightly.

Tears slip from your eyes as you lay there trembling bleating in pain unable to see the malicious grin from your lover above you. The way those black eyes of his fixate on your tears... the way your heart beats quickly... almost the same quick beat of fear. "Shhh Sorsollia Shhh you're okay. You feel so warm so tight." He says to you as you twitch and whimper in pain as he stays so still, "Wont it be nice when you can just handle me easily?"

You whimper out and nod. He runs his hands over your body and seduces you with morbid poetry. His tongue running over your salty skin before darting into your mouth as he finally begins to move. "Sol!" You gasp out causing him to chuckle.

"You can call me Konrad you know." And yet he adores as you try to call him Konrad but slipping into that chant of Sol... Sol... Sol! Sweat rolls down your skin as his warmth overwhelms you. The pained whimpers soon turned to wails of pleasure unlike the wails of screams and the shrieks for mercy as you scream for more. The pain long passed leaving only a heated pleasure in its wake.

You ride him, as best you can, his hands gripping your hips and pulling you down on him as you arch your back, your breasts bouncing as you make your noises, your body going ridgid as your toes curl from an orgasm... he flips you over as your eyes glaze over at the sound of the wet slaps as his cock jackhammers into your body. His nails dig into your flesh as he knows your scent will linger in this room for so long, he hardly uses it, but he might have to if the smell of you is going to stain his bedding.

His mouth moves over the hollow of your throat mouthing it... sucking on it... his spine arching to move his mouth against your flesh. The discomfort worth the way your eyes sparkle as he fucks you dumb... his long tongue pushing into your mouth as you grab a fistful of his hair trying to keep him close. He grins at your boldness... the breakdown of decorum he will allow for now in the darkness of this room after all you tend to be good either way.

He pulls out hearing you whine as he bends you over and fucks you like the animals that you two are. Whining and mewling like a bitch in heat. He once more bites your skin hearing your shriek again causes him to bite down harder for a moment as his completion hits him and he cums deep inside of you. His biting causing you to orgasm as well.

You whimper and bleat out in pain, Konrad can taste blood in his mouth. Konrad rolls his jaw forcing his saliva ducts to work more as he can feel his mouth go numb slightly as he runs his tongue over the bite mark. You flinch and twitch, "It tingles." You say your voice hoarse from screaming.

"That means its working," He slurs slightly explaining how he got his saliva to overproduce the mild anesthetics and painkillers naturally found in human saliva.

"You're just an elevated human." You say with a smile as you feel him tend to your wound. Your eyes closing as you feel so tired after that full body experience. "So... have I shown you that sex doesn't have to be a transaction?"

You can't see the wild smile on his face, the madness in his eyes, the craving inside of him to give you more then the simple mess between your legs as a showing of his affection... perhaps some bone trinkets made from his own bones... but that will be for later for when he can make sure you will be his forever. "It will take more than one encounter like this Sorsollia." He says calmly as he was an expert in hiding his true perverse excitement.

"It's a start." You say with a smile struggling to get up before his large hand pushes you down.

"Rest Sorsollia. I'll clean you up. At least let me take care of you..."

"Is this to make you feel better about the transaction?"

"Yes." He lies as easily as he kills.

You take his hand and gently kiss his knuckles. "Thank you Sol. I just need a little bit after that." As you quickly close your eyes and your breathing shifts

He smiles wickedly at to be in his aura for so long... any primarch aura does things to people. It took you such a long time to no longer feel that unnatural fear. He'll make sure to clean you up... and to make sure that things eventually will take. He contains his giddiness allowing the darkness to hide his emotions from your sun gifted eyes as he vanishes into the dark to collect things. 

[markerofthemidnight]

hello hi waves. i kindly ask again for lobotomy corp abnormality hcs. literally any of them

The Queen of Hatred

She’s one of the few Abnormalities in the facility who looks almost exactly the same with the cognition filter on as she does with it off. That’s right: she literally does look like that in person.

The corporation has tried to show her the outside world in order to make her realise just how much the world needs her, thus fixing her problems.

However, the realisation was too much for her and she ended up transforming on the spot. L Corp decided against taking a risk like that again.

In the game she’s said to display symptoms of some kind of dissociative disorder, so… well, there’s no way to say this that doesn’t sound at least a little offensive, but I still think I should confirm this: yes, Queen does in fact have DID.

The Snake that she becomes when she transforms is a protector made to keep her safe from the “reality” that her purpose is fulfilled and there isn’t anything left for her to do in the world. (referring to the Snake with ‘it/its’ to distinguish from Queen herself; sorry if this feels offensive!)

If Queen believes that because she was made for good, it’s all she’s capable of, then the Snake is the same but with evil.

Does it doubt that sometimes? Probably. I can’t imagine living like that and not being kinda guilty about it, especially given who its host is, but it doesn’t let that get in the way of its job.

Yes, this is also why she doesn’t remember any of her rampages. Good old dissociative amnesia.

And I know DID is typically developed at a really young age, but… she’s an Abnormality. Not to mention, according to her, she was made, not born, so it’s entirely possible that she’s actually only a few years old.

Anyways, back to the barely-disguised ball of stress that is The Queen of Hatred!

She acts pretty snakelike even in her normal form. Her favourite food that she’s supplied with during Instinct works are live mice.

She shall always take great amusement in seeing the look on an Agent’s face after they see her just casually pick up a mouse and swallow it whole without even bothering to kill it.

Aside from that, she also has a forked tongue and will sometimes hiss at enemies she faces during Second Trumpets, particularly ones where she felt particularly manic before things started going down in the Corporation.

With all the insane writing she does on walls and the crazy laughter you sometimes hear from her, a lot of Agents would say she’s even crazier than the Snake.

Her EGO Suit is even girlier in real life than it is with the filter on, and she will never stop complimenting anyone who wears it.

Oh, and also: I don’t know why, but I think she’d make a great wingman. She is the Magical Girl of Love, so it makes sense she’d know a thing or two when it comes to dating!

[is-the-owl-video-cute]

Neuralink methods are unsafe at this stage given the animal deaths and shouldn’t be greenlit for human clinical trials. Calling it eugenics because of that is a bit much though.

There are other research projects doing similar, but safer, methods to help paralyzed people though. I hope people try to get on these research lists and don’t turn to musk out of desperation

It isn’t really a reach to call a procedure with over 60% mortality rate being marketed as a miracle cure to the disabled an example of eugenics. Frankly, there is a stronger word I’m tempted to use for it.

I don’t believe Elon Musk is unaware of the dangers. I don’t think any of the high profile scientists he hired are either.

At absolute best faith I can see Musk simply not caring about the risk and just using this as a desperate attempt at making back some money since he lost so much with twitter and SpaceX.

That’s giving him the most benefit of the doubt imaginable.

However, I would not call it overly cynical to suspect that this may be intentional. Is Musk really stupid enough to just think it’ll be fine because he’s the main character? Yeah, that’s plausible. It’s not any less plausible to say there’s an ulterior motive. Not when he rubs elbows with far-right figures often. Not when he’s a billionaire rich on his parents’ bloodied slave money.

I don’t trust a white man who grew up reaping the benefits of apartheid to be a friend to the disabled. I think the goal in this project has less to do with improving quality of life for the disabled and more for making the disabled less inconvenient to their abled caretakers. It’s very much giving 21st century lobotomy.

[luxaar-lab]

No no no, it doesn’t merely hate humanity. It just has a particular hatred of humanity, but also hates literally all other non-Fatalis life that exists. If anything in it’s general area or turf doesn’t run, it’ll die from the Fatalis’ actions.

As for lobotomy and mind control…given it’s still closer to an eldritch horror who can let loose flames so hot, they melt what seems to be steel in seconds in perhaps the worst conditions for that sort of feat (open area, fanned out flames, large amounts of melted metal), yet still are orange for no apparent reason, alongside the previously mentioned regenerative abilities, I doubt that would do much more than annoy it at best.

Also, don’t do the “superior species” nonsense. Humans already fell pray to that idiot ideology quite a bit in the past and the results of those people’s beliefs? Ruin out of hubris. The kind of pride that comes before a fall, and indeed, they fell. Humans are flawed, yes…that doesn’t mean you aren’t also flawed.

*Rolls eyes, completely ignoring your logical advice*

S-sorry… Grandmaster d-doesn’t care. I’m very worried.

[babycharmander]

Looking back on Loboto’s backstory, it makes me wonder if he was sheltered. Even before his psychic powers were revealed, he wasn’t allowed to play with other kids his age and not go anywhere else unless one of his parents were there with him. He probably still did go to regular school. From research I’ve done: sheltered kids become stunted in their maturation to independently functioning adults. Even though he is a grown man, he’s not psychologically an adult given his childlike mentality.

I don't doubt that he was sheltered. From what we see of his parents, they come across as snobby, and they'd probably be picky about what kids he got to interact with.

As for the note on his maturity though, I don't agree. Loboto acts childish, but he is not a child. Being sheltered can certainly stunt someone in certain ways, especially socially, but it doesn't prevent them from becoming an adult psychologically. It doesn't stop your brain from developing entirely!

Even if he weren't sheltered, he was still massively abused by his parents, and the lobotomy sure didn't help things. But I would argue that those things didn't permanently or completely stunt his overall maturity.

In his mind, we see him as a child, and we see him as Monstroboto as well, who acts extremely childish. But we also see him as First Mate Loboto, who acts a fair amount more mature than the others (if not, uh, severely more emotionally distressed, to put it mildly). That alone proves that he's definitely an adult.

On top of that, Loboto has also been able to function on his own. Not in a healthy way, of course, but he can live on his own and hold a job. He is, in his own words, a "freelance contractor," and has been working for multiple clients for some time. We don't really know how long, but enough for an arguably high-profile client like Gristol to want to hire him. He's also survived in Thorney Towers long after its closing, and is the only resident with some degree of freedom, essentially bossing the rest of them around.

Socially though he is rather a mess. We haven't seen evidence of the poor guy having friends of any kind (other than the mutant fish creatures he created in RoR, if those even count), and any relationship we've seen that he does have is not a good one. He's abusive to Sheegor, terrified of Gristol, and whether he got along okay with Oleander or not, Oleander planned to kill him to cover his tracks and/or if things went south, which doesn't seem indicative of any sort of closeness. His last line in Psychonauts 2 indicates that he may have a child of some sort, but it's questionable just who said child is, or even if he's telling the truth. If he is telling the truth, and it's an actual human child that was left at Whispering Rock (as opposed to an animal or plush toy, which is my own headcanon), then it's worth noting that he doesn't have a partner, and given he de-brained every child at camp, he probably doesn't have a great relationship with whatever kid might have.

That said, I do have hope that post-Psychonauts 2 he'll get the chance to grow, developing more healthy relationships from there on out (especially now that he's found his moral compass again).

But, yeah. I would say that sheltering plus abuse plus the lobotomy definitely led to screwing him over as far as social relationships go. He's not a healthy adult, but he is very much an adult.

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

do you think Bree/Jacob would’ve ever worked out?

Never.

But Why Not, Muffin, You Destroyer of Love?!

A few reasons. Like most pairings, sure, I'm sure some fic author out there bends over backwards to make this a thing. But I guaranteed the circumstances they twist to make it possible are beyond ridiculous.

Jacob is a Shapeshifter, Bree is a Vampire

First is the obvious, Jacob despises vampires. They are a) physically repulsive to him b) the ancient enemy of his people c) the reason his life is now over as he knows it. Jacob blames vampires for his condition, they smell awful and look utterly terrifying in his eyes, and he now takes great pride in being someone who can protect his tribe and murder the shit out of vampires.

Jacob tells Bella point blank that he would rather see her dead than a vampire and he means it. Remember the reason that he flips on his vampire stance is due to imprinting on Renesmee and nothing else, while he protected Bella through her pregnancy it was in part because she was still human and he hoped along with Edward that she could be forcibly aborted and remain human.

Jacob cared greatly for Bella and her being a vampire was not an option for him.

Now you're asking him to care about some rando vampire who does drink blood? Not a chance in hell, he'll kill her the first opportunity he gets even after his post-Renesmee lobotomy.

Bree Enters Jacob's Life as an Enemy of His People

Adding onto this, Bree isn't just a vampire, she's a vampire who was a member of an army set to sack Forks. She is the epitome of what Jacob's people are afraid of. Never mind that it wasn't her choice, never mind that none of this was ever her choice and she was innocent in all ways that mattered, she is what she is and she took part in a battle that had they been successful would have resulted in Forks if not La Push's destruction.

Bree isn't even in the murky water of "friend of Carlisle's who eats people", she was turned by the woman who has been murdering denizens of Forks and the surrounding area for months.

I'll put it like this, Jacob hated the Cullens when he found out what they were and they do not typically eat people.

This ain't going to end well.

What if Bree Became a Cullen?

Then whoop de doo, she's another Cullen. Yet another vampire on his territory set about ruining Jacob's life. Not to mention the Bella fiasco no doubt still happens and Jacob's still very much hung up on Bella and was right up until he became hung up on her baby.

(Which no doubt will have Bree vomiting in a corner somewhere.)

What if He Met Bree Human?

He wouldn't. Bree wasn't from Forks/La Push, she and Jake had no reason to run into one another. More, Bree's life conditions were terrible as she was homeless and terrified when Riley came across her. She's not going to go out of her way to talk to an intimidatingly tall and bulky young man she doesn't know.

Even if they did meet, remember Jacob was either a) hung up on Bella b) was nursing a crush on Bella before he shifted. He's not out there looking for new love interests and... is unlikely to find one in a homeless girl.

What About Bree?

She doesn't know Jacob and what she does know of him is that he murdered the shit out of all these people she knew and he smells terrible. He's not the one who spares her (nor would he) and not anyone she'd spend her future with had Jane allowed her to survive (that would be the Cullens and probably Carlisle who has to take her to the middle of nowhere to avoid eating people).

Jacob's a non-entity to her.

WHAT ABOUT IMPRINTING?!

Imprinting is a horrendous thing and far from a replacement for a true relationship with anyone. But sure, human Jacob could imprint on human Bree, and then she'd slowly gets used to this hulking wolf protector who kidnaps her back to his home in the middle of nowhere Washington to keep her safe.

Though she'd likely live in terror of him given her previous abuse by her father, wondering if today is the day he beats or rapes her.

[verbosebabbler]

I'm going to give my own little assessment on bits of info revealed in my decoding of the codex, so read before or alongside for context, but I will give the overall summary from the end of this above the cut.

Overall theme seems to be that obsession whittles you down until there's nothing left and what's left is something else, no longer you. Parker thinks it's pure. In the world of Zampanio, this process seems to be able cause physical change or metamorphosis as seen in Wodin to Wanda.

Witherby is described as just some guy. The wording is similar to how the Intern is described. Doubt this is relevant, but still suspicious given this work's themes of changing self.

The Twins showcase how sometimes that seeing through the void could obscure things, in reference to the blackout poem like writing Neville made of Devona's information, but maybe a larger theme.

Yongki's story details are incoherent to me. "Any mirror that reflects him (Yongki) captures you, takes you, replaces you with you. The you here is confusing. Is it referring to the audience? Literally or metaphorically? Is it referring to Wanderer who can only be described with "you" pronouns? IDK, but it brings up themes of the self changing.

K is an attention whore and will sell his soul for attention (this is a joking way to refer to it, but yeah, the selling soul may reflect back on the themes of changing self.

Vik's (_'s) entry says that if giving oneself to something else at the sacrifice of what makes you 'you', what is left when that something is gone?

Parker's mentions how being isekai'd twice "sands you down" and "makes you pure". This is in reference to his ascension(?) process where he became detached from the things he knew.

Wanda's is pretty on theme. They wandered "Truth's Temple", whittling down parts of themselves until there was nothing left, then went through a literal transformation into Wanda, emerging as a Lord class (as referenced in the Quotidian details), and retroactively always making Zampanio when the Flower helped her out of her depression.

Quotidian's story section reveals these guys are actually manifestations of web-crawler bots Wodin original made, attendants to fit Wanda's needs. There's also some swayed by other False Creators. No clue there yet.

Zampanio: This long section described the process memetically spreads through other fandoms. There is the line "If Memes are the DNA of the Soul…what is Zampanio doing to outs?" implying the memetic properties of Zampanio is changing the one interacting with it in ways.

Also, there is a list of things JR has seen crossover with Zampanio. Like with how knowledge of Sburb, Lobotomy Corps, and Magus Archives may help with understanding Zampanio, these may help further understanding.

To give the more unknown examples. One is rain world. This is where the slug cats the Herald uses comes from I believe. "The Obscure Game" I have no clue about. There's a 2004 survival horror game named ObsCure, but I feel that specific spelling would be used if it was referencing that. There is an itchio game called "An Obscure Game" which is the closest thing I can find. "Polo" is this referencing the sport? It's so broad I can't find if it means something in specific. "The Way Ahead" looking it up seems to refer to a 1944 British World War II Drama film?? I mean, it wouldn't be the first old movie reference in the zampanio sphere but still.

I don't know why, but I can't decipher what the Novum Mirror actually does. Like a problem of me conceptually grasping it. But if Yongki interacts with it it may allow the alternate universe exponential access to our universe, whatever that means.

Tyrfing: I still don't know his deal much, but he is a follower of Nidhogg stuck in this universe where Nidhogg can't reach. And Rod, Rebel, and Melon are "clones hateful to Tyfings eyes" whatever that means. Maybe has something to do with Wigglersim since that's referenced.

Unending spiraling life (Nidhogg) has no place in Unending spiraling thoughts (inside the Echidna).

[lov3nerdstuff]

I am curious,how did tom propose in the wicked game??❤️❤️

Aah I love this question! 😊 Thank you so much for asking (and sorry for the late response...). But here we go now! For everyone who’s new to my blog, THIS is the original story and it can be found in its entirety on my Masterlist!

Wicked Game: The Proposal

Tom would most definitely not make a big show of it, knowing how uncomfortable it would make you for your personal life to be put on public display like that, so it would happen in a rather private setting.

You two had discussed your opinions on marriage long before, and how either of you wanted to spend the rest of their lives. Unsurprisingly, you had been absolutely on the same page, but then left the topic at that with a smile on both your faces for a while.

People, especially a certain colleague of yours and a very noisy ex-student with odd hair colours (yes, I'm talking about you, Ben and Sky), had been insinuating to both you and Tom that it might finally be time to take the next step. And (not) subtle as they were, Tom and you obviously caught right on to their schemings. But as ever, you let them proceed with their shenanigans. A few magazine cut-outs of pretty wedding gowns here, an arranged romantic dinner there...

So one day, when your two crazy friends were supposed to come over for a dinner of some self-made lasagna once again as they did ever so often, you had a suggestion for Tom. Why not tell the two meddlesome fools that you were, in fact, married already? Just as a joke... Just to see their shocked faces. Tom was quick to agree with a mischievous grin on his face. This was daily business, after all... And you two still hadn't gotten back at Ben for his last practical joke anyway. This was the perfect opportunity.

So as was to be expected, Sky and Ben started making terribly obviously remarks and insinuations soon enough. You'd barely had enough time to flee into the kitchen with the dishes before you couldn't contain the smirks and giggles anymore. When you returned to the living room with new composure, an easy teasing smirk on your lips, and went to stand with the others in front of the large window to finally speak the words of trickery you had been preparing all evening, the room was silent for a while. Both Ben and Sky, entirely shocked.

"You are already married? Without telling us? Seriously?! AGAIN?!?!" Sky gaped an instant later, while Ben seemed too shocked to voice any witty retorts at all. You snorted, and looked at Tom out of the corner of your eyes. He was smiling almost serenely, obviously amused about your friends' hilarious faces too, and yet there was an expression on his own that spoke volumes. Like he knew more than everyone else in the room. You frowned to yourself for a second, but didn't get to dwell on it.

"So you're married? Really?" Ben finally found his voice again, gaze drifting from Tom to you and back. He was doubtful. Rightfully so, after all. Darn it, the man had learned from the years of prank wars between the four of you. Oh well, at least he was capable of learning. You snickered to yourself.

"No." Tom finally had the mercy to say, while his smile broadened to that radiant emblem of joy that still had the power to melt your heart in seconds. "We're not." And before you could melt entirely under his soft touch on the small of you back, he took half a step backwards to face you with that same smile, that same radiance. His eyes, as ever and always, capturing your soul with ease. "But I would like to change that, if you will have me, Y/N."

Again, silence that melted the world away, and you could only stare with parted lips at the man standing before you now. And standing straight he did, and stayed, even as he spoke on. "I am well aware that tradition dictates differently, but I will not kneel before you tonight. Because you don't need a servant, my dear, but you deserve an equal. An equal, a loving friend, and a devoted soul. I would like to spend the rest of my days trying to be that for you, and yet more if I can. If you allow me, I would like to make you mine forever."

Frozen in awe, your frantic heartbeat echoed through your entire being as you watched him delicately draw the smallest object from his pockets, a ring, made entirely of neatly folded paper. You couldn't help the sound between a sob and a chuckle that escaped your lips, as your gaze darted between Tom's eyes, the ring in his palm and the smile on his lips.

"Will you do me this greatest honour, darling, and marry me?" He asked quietly, softly like a brush of sunlight, when your eyes lingered on his own. There was so much hope in them, such love and dedication. You didn't have to think even for a split second.

"Yes! Of course! Always!" The world spilled from your lips like desperate prayers, the relief of their sound more prominent than the air to breathe. Smiling, Tom placed the origami ring in your palm, for it was everything but made to wear. You couldn't have loved it more, couldn't have loved him more. Overwhelmed by a flashflood of emotions, you carefully enclosed the delicate object in your hand, a mere second before practically jumping at Tom for a hug and a kiss that was sure to leave him breathless either way. If there was a highest joy, a deepest love for life itself, you could feel it now. Both of you.

"A ring made of paper? Really, mate?" Ben chuckled, long after he and Sky had given you both their happiest congratulations. You'd been surprised at first, when Sky had suddenly started squealing like a little girl on Christmas morning, that the two of them had still been there in the first place, but by now you were eternally grateful that your two best friends had been there to share this moment with Tom and you. They, too, were your family, after all. And after a long while of hugging and grinning, the overwhelm was slowly making room for unadulterated happiness.

"Yep." Tom replied with a cheeky grin, upon which Ben shook his head with a snort. "I've had the idea for a while now, actually. It, uh..." He let out a nervous chuckle, then gave you an almost apologetic smile. "It's the same piece of paper you placed on my desk when we first met. The one with the quote, the one I didn't know came from you until months later."

"You actually kept that?" Your eyes widened in surprise, heart skipping a beat while your smile however stayed brilliant as it was. "All this time?"

"What can I say?" Tom chuckled, shrugging with the shoulder you weren't leaning into. "I am very attached to everything you have ever given to me. I thought I would have some more time to practice my skill at origami, but well, your little trick on Ben and Sky tonight was too good an opportunity to resist. I do hope though that it didn't turn out too crooked. And needles to say, I will still give you a proper ring in due time."

"It's absolutely perfect, Tom, really. Everything. Exactly as it is." You smiled up at him, then placed a soft kiss on his jawline and finally rested your head back against his shoulder while he simply smiled to himself. Yes, it really was beyond perfect indeed.

_______________

(Bonus:)

"Gods, will you two ever stop being disgustingly adorable?!" Sky groaned exaggeratedly a moment later, as only she could. "You make me want to hurl or yeet myself out the window!"

"Geez, they just got engaged, you heartless creature, let them be sappy for once!" Ben scoffed, as ever, with a smirk playing on his lips. "You're just jealous."

"Jealous? Me?! Who are you kidding, Cumberbatch?" Sky retorted right away, quirking an eyebrow at the man next to her in utmost sass. "That's called projection, my friend."

"Good gracious, when will they just kiss already!" You groaned under your breath, careful so your friends wouldn't hear, then rolled your eyes with a chuckle as you looked up at Tom. "It's been months since Sky graduated, and they're still hopelessly pining for each other. It's not gotten one ounce better over the years, but rather even worse! Wouldn't you say it's about time we start helping them along?"

The grin had spread on Tom's lips even before you had finished your sentence, but when you did, his eyes were sparking with joy and mischief as were yours. "That, my dear, is just what I have been thinking as well."

______________________________

Tagging, because it basically turned into a oneshot (oops... 😇😂)

General Tags:

@wegingerangelica @dreary-skies-stuff @wiczer @lotus-eyedindiangoddess @theweirdlunatic @caretheunicorn @kthemarsian @lady-of-lies @strawberrysandcream @noplacelikehome77 @theoneanna @mishaandthebrits @i-am-a-mes @nonsensicalobsessions @exygon @hiddles-lobotomy @rjohnson1280 @annwhojumps @spookycatqueen @salempoe @headoverhiddleston @fanfiction-and-stress @createdfromblue @thecreatiivecorner @themusingsofmany @kinghiddlestonanddixon @scorpionchild81 @crystal-28 @adefectivedetective @lokis-girl-in-mischief @booklover2929 @iamverity @lovesmesomehiddles @akk4rin @whitewolfandthefox @stuckupstucky @kassablanca13 @delightfulheartdream @hayalee8 @bluewneptune @lemonmochitea

[remywrites5]

           Sirius yawned and stretched his arms over his head as he walked through the hallways of his school. It had been another sleepless night of listening to his parents argue and pretending he couldn’t hear them. He’d put his headphones in and turned his music up as loud as he could but it still wasn’t enough to drown them out. In the end he had given up the illusion of sleep and committed to staying awake – a decision he was now regretting as he tried to make it though the school day.

           He had an off period so he was looking for a place to take a nap. He went down towards the music rooms, as there were usually a few practice rooms vacant. He would be able to shut the door and be undisturbed for at least a good half hour. He would just have to set an alarm on his phone so he didn’t miss his maths class. He knew McGonagall was planning a pop quiz because he’d peeked through her planner.

           Sirius poked his head into one of the practice rooms and found Remus Lupin strumming a guitar with a pick in his mouth resting against his silver lip ring. Remus glanced up when he heard the door open and smiled kindly. Sirius felt something funny happen to his insides the way it always did when Remus was around. Remus had only moved to their school the year before and no one really knew much about him. Sirius had barely spoken ten words to the guy but it hadn’t stopped him having an annoyingly inconvenient crush on him.

           “Sorry,” he said, his hand still on the doorknob. He kept telling his body to turn around and leave but it wasn’t cooperating.

           “It’s okay,” Remus said, taking the pick out of his mouth. He played a few more chords and then glanced back up at Sirius. “Did you need something else?”

           “Will you teach me the guitar?” Sirius blurted out before he could think better of it.

           Remus scratched the back of his neck nervously. “I don’t know, I’ve never taught anyone before. I don’t think I’d be very good at it.”

           “I really want to learn though,” Sirius said, pouting slightly at the rejection. It was actually true as well, Sirius had always dreamed of being able to play guitar like a rock star. “I’ll pay you.”

           Remus chewed on his lip for a moment while he considered it. “Do you even have a guitar?”

           “I can get one,” Sirius promised quickly. He could tell he was wearing Remus down just a bit. He wasn’t going to give up now when he was starting to win him over.

           Remus exhaled loudly. “What was your name again?”

           Sirius did his best not to look offended at the question. “Sirius Black.”

           “If you can get a guitar then I’ll do what I can to teach you,” Remus said, playing a few more chords. “But no promises, okay? I told you I’m not much of a teacher. You really should ask Professor Flitwick. He’s the music teacher after all.”

           “He doesn’t like me,” Sirius confessed, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning casually against the doorframe. “Last year I purposefully sang the wrong words during our chorus concert and I was in the front row. Everyone could hear me. He wasn’t very happy about it.”

           Remus bit his lip ring to keep from smiling. “No, I don’t imagine he would be. Should I expect such disrespect when I attempt to teach you?”

           “Nope,” Sirius said, popping the p before letting his lips curl into a grin. “I’ll be an angel.”

           Remus rolled his eyes. “Somehow I doubt that. Get the guitar and we’ll see.”

           “I will,” Sirius promised. He could already feel himself getting excited. He had wanted to learn guitar since forever and now bonus he was getting to learn it from his crush. It felt like a win-win scenario. Sirius headed off having forgotten any ideas of taking a nap, too excited to even think of closing his eyes, for fear that this was a dream.

                                                           ***

           “What are we doing again?” James asked as he hit a tambourine a few times. Taking James Potter anywhere was a menace but Sirius’ best mate had insisted on coming with him.

           “I’m buying a guitar,” Sirius responded distractedly as he looked at the wall of guitars in the music shop. “I’m just not sure what kind of get.”

           “Why though?” James asked, scratching his head, his fingers getting lost in his unruly hair.

           “Remus Lupin offered to teach me,” Sirius explained, pulling one of the guitars off the wall. He put the strap over his head and positioned it against his body. It was a black and white Fender and Sirius couldn’t help thinking he looked kind of cool as he watched himself in the mirror.

           “Ah, okay.” James said, nodding in understanding as he put the tambourine back. “So you just want an excuse to spend time with Remus.”

           “That’s not all,” Sirius said defensively, strumming his left hand without playing any chords. “I’ve always wanted to learn guitar. This is a perfect opportunity. Plus I get to spend time with Remus.”

           James grabbed a pair of drumsticks and began twirling them between his fingers. “Do you think Lily would like me if I played an instrument?”

           “Mate, I think the only way Lily Evans would like you is if she got a lobotomy.”

           “Rude,” James said, putting the stick back.

           Sirius tilted his head from side to side as he looked at himself in the mirror. “Remus had an acoustic guitar. Should I get one of those instead? If I show up with the wrong kind of guitar he might change his mind about helping me.”

           “You’re overthinking it,” James assured him, clapping his hand on Sirius’ shoulder. “Just get whatever kind of guitar you want.”

           Sirius nodded and gave his best friend an appreciative look. He tried a few more guitars and decided on a candy apple red and black Fender. It was about six hundred pounds but Sirius thought it was well worth it. He just hoped that Remus liked it as much as he did.

                                                                       ***

           Remus’ eyes widened as Sirius took his new guitar out of the case. “Wow, that’s um…quite the guitar.”

           “Is it bad?” Sirius asked, his stomach dropping. He knew he would mess everything up. He should have just gotten an acoustic guitar like the one Remus had. “I can always take it back.”

           “No, it’s fine.” Remus said, smiling softly. “It’s kind of flashy but I think it suits you.”

           Sirius tucked his hair behind his ear and returned Remus’ smile. “You think so?”

           Remus nodded and then adjusted the beanie on his head. His tawny curls were poking out from the front of it and his school tie undone. He looked relaxed and effortlessly cool. Sirius desperately wanted to kiss him and find out what the lip ring would feel like.

           Remus sat down on the floor with his guitar in his lap and Sirius immediately moved to sit down across from him. Together they tuned Sirius’ guitar so that it matched Remus’. Remus showed him a few chords and they played Yellow Submarine together very slowly since it only had about three chords in the chorus. “That’s really good,” Remus said, beaming at Sirius proudly. “You’re a natural.”

           Sirius grinned and shook his head. “No you’re just a good teacher.”

           “Bullocks,” Remus teased, scratching his eyebrow. “You’ve played an instrument before. I can tell.”

           Sirius snorted and ran through the chords again. “My mum made me play violin as a kid. Had to take private lessons and everything. I wasn’t that into it but she liked having a son that could play. My brother Reg played the piano and she would make us play duets during dinner parties. It was the worst.”

           “But she let you quit?”

           Sirius glanced up at Remus and then gave him a shrug in response. “The high school doesn’t have an orchestra anyway so there wasn’t much point in continuing on. She allowed me to pursue other interests.”

           “She sounds kind of tough,” Remus said, patting Sirius’ knee sympathetically.

           Sirius reached down and places his hand over Remus’, enjoying the feeling of warmth that came from touching him. He turned Remus’ hand over and felt the callouses on Remus’ fingers from the guitar strings. “You don’t know the half of it.”

           “Sirius – “

           “Anyway, I’m here to learn, not share my tragic backstory,” he said, dropping Remus’ hand. “What’s next?”

           Remus chewed on his lip ring for a moment and seemed ready to argue. After a moment he shook his head and showed Sirius another chord. “So, um, my band is playing a gig this weekend.”

           “You’re in a band?” Sirius asked, his eyes widening in surprise.

           “Yeah, we’re terrible,” Remus told him with a soft chuckle. “Lily convinced me to join after her old guitar player, Fabian, hurt his hand during a rugby match. If you wanted to come see us play we’ll be at the Three Broomsticks on Saturday night. You don’t have to though, as I said, we’re not very good.”

           “I’ll be there!” Sirius promised, knowing there was no way in hell he’d miss it.

                                                                       ***

           “You’re sure Lily is going to be here?” James asked, following Sirius through the pub.

           “It’s her band, you numpty,” Sirius said as he playfully smacked James upside the head. “She’s the lead singer.”

           “Oh god, I’m going to die. She’s so pretty and she can sing?”

           It was pretty crowded for a Saturday night as James and Sirius weaved their way through the crowd. They each got a pint from the bar and then went to find somewhere to stand so they could see the stage. For the moment they were just playing music through the speakers of what sounded like a club mix.

           After about twenty minutes of Sirius searching in vain for Remus, the lights dimmed and the spotlights on the stage came on. Sirius glanced over at his best friend and saw his jaw drop as Lily Evans stepped onto the stage. She had on a pair of fishnet stockings and black shorts, a Star Wars t-shirt and an unzipped hoodie over it. While James stared at Lily, Sirius’ vision focused just slightly to her left where Remus was plugging his guitar into the amp. Instead of his brown acoustic guitar he had a turquoise and white electric guitar. He wore ripped jeans, a plain white t-shirt and a blue and green flannel with his signature (as Sirius had come to think of it) brown beanie on his head. Rounding out the band was Benjy Fenwick on bass and Marlene McKinnon on drums.

           Remus looked out into the crowd and smiled when he noticed Sirius, his teeth resting against his lip ring, making Sirius’ insides do funny little flips. Marlene banged her sticks together a few times as Lily stepped up to the mic and began to sing. James immediately started cheering and clapping as the song began. After a moment Sirius couldn’t help joining in.

           Lily took the mic out from the stand and walked over to Remus, their hips swaying in time to the music as they danced together. Sirius couldn’t help the pang of jealousy in his chest from how close Lily was getting to Remus. He knew it was just part of the show but they leaned in close to share the mic as Remus harmonized with Lily. Sirius took a large pull from his beer and tried to get himself under control. He felt slightly better when the song ended and Lily went back to the mic stand in the center of the stage.

           “What do you know about that bloke Remus?” James shouted in Sirius’ ear as the next song started. He clearly was jealous of the on stage chemistry Lily and Remus shared too.

           “I know he’s going to be mine after tonight,” Sirius said before downing his beer and heading to the bar for another one.

           They played a total of five songs before Lily thanked everyone and wishing them good night. The lights on the stage went out and the band began to pack up their stuff. The same club mix started to pour out of the speakers as James and Sirius made their way to the stage.

           “Oh great, what do you want?” Lily asked already scowling at James.

           “I just came to watch the show!” James answered defensively.

           Remus had just finished putting his guitar away when Sirius tugged him down from the stage. “Hi there,” Remus said, smiling warmly at Sirius. “Did you – “

           Remus was cut off by Sirius capturing his lips in a kiss much less frantic than Sirius felt at the moment. Remus pulled back after a few seconds and stared at Sirius with a puzzled expression on his face. Sirius reached up and brushed Remus’ curls off his forehead before pressing a kiss there as well.

           Remus laughed softly. “Should I take that to mean you liked the show?”

           “I did,” Sirius confirmed, letting his arms rest around Remus’ shoulders. “Also you lied to me.”

           “I did?” Remus asked bemusedly as he put his hands on Sirius’ waist.

           “You told me you were rubbish,” Sirius reminded him. He let his hand cup the nape of Remus’ neck and he pressed down just slightly, feeling Remus shiver against him in response. “I thought you were really good. You were a rock star.”

           Remus rolled his eyes before leaning in and kissing Sirius again. “I think you might be a tad biased on that account.”

           “Not at all,” Sirius said as he nibbled playfully on Remus’ lip. “I’m quite the music snob if you must know.”

           “Ah,” Remus huffed in amusement. “So you liking our music is actually quite the compliment.”

           “Exactly,” Sirius murmured against Remus’ lips, kissing him again and then again for good measure. “I’ve excellent taste in music and men.”

           Remus took a step back in order to grab his guitar off the stage. He held it in one hand and took Sirius’ hand with his other. “You know, if you wanted to go out with me you could have just asked. You didn’t have to pretend you wanted to learn guitar.”

           “I did want to learn the guitar,” Sirius insisted as Remus led him out through the back door of the club. Benjy’s van was parked outside so Remus slid his guitar into it and then sat down on the edge of the open boot. He grabbed Sirius by his Ramones’ t-shirt until Sirius was standing between his open legs. “I might be a bit hot for teacher, though.”

           “God, I hope you mean me and not Professor Flitwick,” Remus teased with a knowing smirk.

           “Mm, Flitwick is dead sexy,” Sirius joked, tracing the contours of Remus’ face with his finger, trying to memorize it already, as he couldn’t get enough of it. “But I prefer you.”

           “It’s a good thing you’re my only student or I would get accused of playing favorites,” Remus said, putting his hands behind him and leaning back.

           “Only two lessons and I’m already teacher’s pet, huh?” Sirius managed to quip even though his heart was racing from the way Remus was looking at him. He desperately wanted to shut the boot and snog Remus in the back of the van.

           Remus hummed in agreement. “My pet, you say? If that’s the case then maybe I should feed you, huh boy?”

           Sirius let out a yip like a puppy and licked a stripe up Remus’ neck. “Remus Lupin, are you asking me out on a date?”

           Remus laughed and shoved Sirius’ face away. “Yeah, I guess I am, since apparently I already own you anyway.”

            “Think you’ll keep me then?” Sirius asked, sitting down next to Remus and lacing their fingers together. It was astonishing to Sirius that something as simple as holding Remus’ hand was enough to make him feel a little lightheaded.

           “Yeah,” Remus said, giving Sirius’ hand a reassuring squeeze. “I’ll keep you.”

[packsbeforesnacks]

Inside You There Are Two Wolves || Adam, Cece, Darwin, Nell, Ulfric, & Winn

[Part One | Part Two] [Side B]

TIMING: Sunday, July 19th, 2020, Sunset LOCATION: A clearing in the Outskirts. PARTIES: @walker-journal, @thebickedwitchoftherest, @wardinasrani, @nelllraiser, @big-bad-ulf, & @packsbeforesnacks SUMMARY: The ritual to recover Winn’s memories goes very, very wrong. WARNINGS: None.

Everything was in place, the way it was meant to be, in the small clearing Winn had chosen as the place for the ritual. At first Darwin had been a little hesitant: a memory journey was always tricky, even with just one mind to explore, but travelling through two minds? So many things could go wrong that he refused to think about it, let alone share his doubts with the participants. At least Darwin wasn't alone: granted, he'd guide the ritual, he'd keep the connection stable, but two others would fuel his magic, and the help of Nell and Otto had been invaluable, really; the procedure was fairly simple, but knowing he wouldn't have to rely only on himself made Darwin's task easier. Darwin looked at the four unconscious bodies of Noah, Arthur, Mercy and Winn, carefully arranged on the ground in a sort of cross, their heads touching. Right now they looked peaceful, sleeping a dreamless sleep thanks to the magic they casted, but Darwin knew that was going to change soon.

“Well, here we go.” Darwin addressed Nell and Cece, his lips a thin line. “I'm going to join them. I don't know what we'll find inside, but whatever happens, you two will need to keep the flow of energy going. If the magic stops we could be trapped; it doesn't have to be a lot of energy, but it has to be stable. I, of course, will do my best on my side, but... Like I said, we can't foresee what will happen there.” Darwin wasn't a fan of putting his mind in the hands of others, but Nell had proved to be reliable, and at least they had backup. Speaking of, he turned to Adam (another person he knew would take his task seriously) and Ulfric. “To make this journey possible there'll be lots of magic involved. And we're not dealing with simple humans here, so... Be ready for anything. I'd like for us to still have a body to return to, if you know what I mean.” Sharing a meaningful look with the other magic users, one that let them know he was about to begin, Darwin sat down between Mercy and Winn, and placed one hand on each of their foreheads. “Wish us luck,” he murmured before closing his eyes and focusing, ready to begin.

Certainly, Nell wasn’t Winn’s biggest fan, but she also wasn’t one to stand by and let someone have their memories locked away while wanting them back. Still— the entire memory debacle with August had left her apprehensive when it came to do any magic that might even be remotely similar, and it had only been under the reassurance that she’d be more power source than anything that she’d agreed to partake. After all, her track record with memories and magic wasn’t exactly squeaky clean, and the last thing she wanted to do was make things worse. Nevertheless, she let her magic flow through her to join Darwin’s and Cece’s. “We won’t let you guys get lost in there.” As for possible complications cropping up, that was something Nell had more confidence with. “And we’ll make sure he’s got enough fur on him to survive the winter when it’s all done,” she joked with a deadpan look. Then she was silent, letting her own eyes drop closed as she focused only on giving Darwin the power he’d need, glad that her magic had recovered decently enough after all of the recent debacles.

Adam glanced to Ulfric, feeling the ice-hot burn of the larger man's inhuman presence, a twin to the constant discomfort Winn produced in Adam’s Hunter senses. He had no idea what this guy was, but hopefully the ginger giant was strong enough to deal with whatever Total Recall craziness was about to go down without also being hungry enough to eat the sleepers.

Regardless, Adam listened to Darwin’s explanation of the proceedings carefully, having come to trust the Demonologist’s expertise during a particularly harrowing assignment to close a Hell Rift. This was a complex ritual to say the least. On one hand, it was interesting to see all the folks that’d turned up to help when Winn had… like… a forced brain transplant into Mercy because of bird bookends or something. Most of them, Adam knew, some in contexts that’d given no hint to the abilities on display here.  

Nothing like some communal lobotomy to bring folks together.

The axe holstered at Ulfric’s waist hung heavily, seeming to absorb the weight of the situation. In this clearing, the familiar tool would become a tool of execution. There had been more formidable options to choose from in the buried stash of weapons the werewolf had found amongst Celeste’s parents' things, but if the worst occurred here he did not want Winn to go out by a hunter’s blade. In fact, he would’ve preferred not to bring a weapon at all, besides his natural ones. However, there were too many others assembled for this ritual, some of whom he’d never met before and more still who weren’t aware of his true nature. It wouldn’t have been wise to expose himself even if there wasn’t a high risk that shifting would result in the rest of the attendees ending up as collateral mincemeat.

He glanced at Adam, hoping that Winn was right about the boy’s ability to defend himself and the sleepers. The younger werewolf hadn’t given Ulfric any reason not to trust his judgement recently, but he couldn’t sense any shifter in Adam, which did raise questions about why he’d been chosen to take up the role of bodyguard opposite him. Returning his gaze to Darwin, he paid close attention to the spellcaster’s words, wanting to keep the chances of anything going wrong as low as possible. He’d never even considered taking a fellow wolf’s life before Winn’s request, and he was still vehemently disinclined to cross that threshold. “Lykke til,” he nodded solemnly to Darwin to indicate that he understood both the content and gravity of his instructions, wishing him luck as he joined the four in their slumber.

Winn sure had assembled a ragtag group of people together to get this job done. Cece recognized a few of them. Mostly, Cece was just happy to not be the one leading the charge for this mental magic. Cece had more experience with taking memories than piecing them back together. She was fairly confident that she could do it, if required. But having someone specialize in it was way more helpful. Plus, as far as safety went Cece would much rather be chilling outside of Winn’s body instead of roaming around in that head of his. She didn’t need to know all that information.

Luckily, this Darwin fellow was taking the lead and Cece was more than happy to be a power conduit. She sat cross-legged on the forest floor, peaking an eye open at the group surrounding Winn. Into the dreamworld they go, Cece supposed. “Just a heads up to any non magic users,” Cece glanced over at Adam, and probably Ulfric, “If you haven’t been in any spells like this before. We know you don’t use magic, but we can still borrow some of your strength to help the spell. So just keep calm and focused with us. All of us will be happy and healthy at the end with everyone participating.” If things went smoothly. Did things ever go smoothly?

Wind blew through the forest as the ritual thrummed to life. The bodies of the sleepers were illuminated in the late afternoon sun cutting through the curtain of the trees overhead. The air buzzed with the presence of the magic, and, if anyone had been watching Winn’s face closely, they would have noticed a frown on the werewolf’s face.

Then, the crackle changed, the mood of the energy shifting down into something darker. Mercy’s face, previously serene, was frowning now, too. The ritual was underway, and the sleepers were making their way through the dreamscape. But then, the unexpected happened.

Winn sat up, and opened his eyes. There were no signs of life from him, other than the steady up and down breathing of his chest, the unblinking stare into the middle distance, and the way that, if you looked closely, his fingernails were lengthening, slowly, into claws. Behind him, something like a black mist rose from the centerpoint of the spell, covering the ground like rolling fog.

The forest had gone cold.

Even though Nell wasn’t the most comfortable with memory magic, she could feel the way it was shifting between them as Darwin worked, feeling it take form and shape as she quite literally powered on, keeping her intentions in line with what they were trying to accomplish here. But her eyes opened as she felt the twist in it, a potential unwanted result coming to fruition bringing her own little frown to her lips to unknowingly mirror Winn’s and Mercy’s. “Something’s happening,” she said aloud, eyes already scanning the faces of those that had been put under for this mission for anything that might tell a story as to what was going wrong. As she watched, she locked onto the claws sprouting from Winn. “Adam,” she spoke with a  warning tone in her voice, tilting her head in the direction of the werewolf’s hands. “His claws.” She wouldn’t tear herself away from Darwin and Cece just yet, not when it seemed there was still the potential to keep things under control.

Adam, sage of the arcane that he was, could generally identify a couple key indicators of when wizard shit was headed sideways. For example anything with creepy children or dramatic laser beams into the sky was like DEFCON 1 as far as Satanic tailgate parties went. Bloody writing on the wall in ancient languages was a good indicator that someone needed to be shanked back into their home dimension, as were well-endowed chicks with psychic powers making narcoleptic predictions about the ‘master’s arrival.’

Black mist? Bad Sign.

Hot Turkish girl saying his name in a way that really made Adam feel….

Oh wait, bad sign today.

Damn it Nell.

Clearly Adam’s secret wolf wrassling skills were needed and the Hunter was quick to hustle to Winn’s side before the sleepwalking…sleepslashing?...of other participants could transpire. He attempted to hold Winn’s arms in place.

Ulfric winced at little as the blonde witch, who he deduced must have Cece, called on them to ‘lend some of their strength’. He’d only just managed to win it back, and with the new moon looming he still only possessed a fraction of what he would when it was full. But if there was anything he’d be willing to lay it all on the line again for, it would be another wolf, one he was bonded to in both word and blood. Bowing his head, he concentrated on keeping his thoughts centred on the desired outcome of the spell, just as he had the last time when he’d been helping Ariana and Celeste before—Focus. That is not focus. He internally chided himself for letting his mind wander away from the present moment, just as Winn jerked upright, claws extending.

Ulfric rushed to his other side without any further thought. The balance of magic had been disturbed and knowing whether his slip in intentions had contributed to it wouldn’t save his friend. “Come on, Woods, you told me yourself you can control this,” he urged the young werewolf, grabbing one arm so Adam could focus his efforts on the other. “You know how!” With his words and thoughts, he willed it to be true, willed that the memories Winn already had access to would triumph over the ones that had been locked away.

“Son of a bitch” Cece sighed. Wolf Winn clearly didn’t want to cooperate as much as person Winn did. Whether this was some alter ego lashing out at the idea of recovering memories or just a reaction to whatever was happening inside of that fucked up head of his, things would turn dangerous real quickly if Adam and Ulfric couldn’t calm him down. “Keep the spell going,” Cece spoke to Nell, breaking off for a moment to rummage in her purse and pull out a vial of powder. She popped the lid off of the vial, pouring the powder onto the ground. She grabbed for her keys, pressing the point against the tip of her palm. She pushed deep, twisting the key until she felt the skin break. She made a fist over the powder, squeezing tightly until blood dripped from her hand and into the powder. She pressed her finger deep into the mixture, mumbling Latin to herself until the new substance began smoking, then she dragged it across the ground, forming a barrier around herself before moving towards Nell.

“This should keep things out for now, but it won’t work forever, if he breaks free and comes after us.” Cece spoke mechanically, not wanting to break Nell’s focus, simply inform her of what Cece had been doing. As far as protection spells went, this wasn’t the strongest. It was purely for emergency situations only. It wouldn’t hold up against an onslaught by wolves. “You can step out, but nothing can get in. Unless they break it.” That cheery thought out of the way, Cece jumped back into her circle and sat back down, joining back in on the spell.

Magic crackled through the air with warning, the fog of the black mist had engulfed the clearing, settling on the ground in an ever-present wash — save for the circle Cece had created. Though, perhaps, outside, the sun was still shining, the rays of ‘light’ coming into the clearing through the trees were violet, the trees themselves becoming twisted and black. The grass beneath Cece’s feet was still green and lit by the sun, unaffected, but darkness fell on the rest of the assembled friends, painting the world in grim tones. Winn, or Winn’s body, was still, for a moment.

But then, Winn let out a gasp of pain as a thicker, darker mist pulsed out of the epicenter of the spell, his form trembling. Eyes that had been glazed over lit up with panicked recognition, as he surveyed the scene before him.

“Get away,” Winn said, fast and quiet, his body shaking against the force of Adam and Ulfric’s hold, now. His breath was golden-hued, slipping out when he spoke. “No time. They’re… coming.” The golden breath, time, was rapidly running out, and the new mist began to curl in and around Winn’s form, covering his skin with a sticky, black-blue liquid. His hands, the first to get covered, curled inward, and began to change. Into… something.

“It’ll… get…. you… too,” Winn grit out, trying to keep the mist from sliding down his throat, infecting him with its magic. His unfocused eyes hinted that the werewolf hadn’t ‘woken up,’ so much as been able to communicate, somehow, through the spell. And then, as the last of his breath wisped away, he coughed and gasped, inhaling a lungful of the mist. It came more quickly now, spurred by this invitation, and Winn’s body, with a growl, began to transform more fully.

It wasn’t the wolf, not quite, there was something… off, about it. Something that seemed to cut angles into Winn’s form that shouldn’t have been there. Elements of both of the werewolf’s forms made it in. The strong, lupine claws, golden eyes, a coat of black, black fur, and big, vicious teeth. But it was lithe, coiled, like a human, and, as it ripped its arms from Ulfric and Adam’s grasps — with a firm snap, like it had broken something — it leapt across the clearing, landing to stand, the mist clearing from its body, but not dissipating, no.

The mist poured out from the creature born from Winn, and into twin pools of black ink. Here, at the confluence of the ancient magic, the sheer power of the assembled casters, hunter, and wolf, the valkyrie’s kindling, and… something deeper and darker, buried in the fabric of White Crest itself, they could come free.

Winn’s dreams gave them form, these half-shadows, and they warped into grisly manifestations. A human, with slashes down his exposed chest. A werewolf, transformed, dripping black blood from its neck. They spared a single, venomous glance at the creature that had once been Winn Woods… and then rushed Adam and Ulfric with inhuman speed.

Nell knew the magical black mist couldn’t have come from their end of the spell, which made her assume this was simply a manifestation of Mercy’s abilities, subconsciously fighting back on this breach to keep their hold on the memories that they were trying to unlock. For a moment, she thought back to Erin’s father and the wish magic they’d faced there, wondering how she’d managed to get caught up in two fury debacles in the last few months. But that didn’t matter now.

Winn’s words and the wolf’s leap didn’t bode well for their bunch, and Nell turned her back on the magic for a split second to launch a blast of magic towards the wolf’s side in an attempt to knock it off balance, hoping to give Adam and Ulfric any time they might need to prepare themselves for the apparently imminent fight to come after the wolf had wrenched itself out from under them. The rest of her magic was still focused on the spell, continuing to be the battery pack that Darwin needed in this moment as she looked over her shoulder at the action, deciding whether or not she should give Cece the reins for a few moments.

Given the tendency of magic to stick a taser up physic’s asshole without using a safe word, Adam hadn’t brought any firearms to Winn-intervention (Winntervention?) just in case bullet trajectories went all non-Euclidean.  

Thus, Adam drew two silver versions of modernized Ka-Bar tactical knives, weapons of straightforward brutality and cutting edge material’s science that would’ve made good on Adam’s promise to make Winn’s death as painless as possible.

But even as the lupine nightmare made manifest charged, Adam had a flicker of hesitation in the tunnel-vision that so often overcame him in the thick of combat. Was this thing connected to Winn somehow? Could they hurt it without harming Winn too?

Adam was pretty sure shanking Winn in the soul violated Bro-Code.

Rather than the disemboweling slashes to the vulnerable underbelly that would’ve been standard procedure when face a lupine adversary, Adam met the creature’s charge by rolling to the ground beneath the creature and delivering a superhuman kick to straight to the gut to throw it off-balance and break its stride.

“Can we hurt this thing without hurting Winn too?” the Hunter shouted, flipping alacritously back up to his feet as the wolf manifestation’s claws ploughed deep grooves in the forest floor right where Adam’s had just been seconds ago.

Ulfric only had a fraction of a second to be relieved Adam had gone for the more wolf-like manifestation, before it was nearly on him. He unsheathed his axe and gripped its handle tightly, ignoring the dull throb in his right hand. Unleashing a war cry, he pulled the axe back, in anticipation of striking the shadow man’s side and slicing through his softest parts to fell him like a tree. But Adam’s yell caused him to hesitate, the battle cry withering in his throat as the surprisingly heavy vision collided with him at full force and knocked them both to the ground. Timber! “Yes… a head’s up on that front would be… appreciated!” the werewolf called out to the conscious spellcasters between grunts as he wrestled the manifested figure, pinning its wrists to the wilted grass beside him, the axe dislodged in the fall.

With an almighty thwack! Ulfric headbutted the shadow man and rolled out from underneath him. Regaining his footing and his axe he assumed a defensive stance again, this time he turned it round to the blunt side, ready to dole out non-lethal blows while he waited on the official word from the witches on how to proceed.

Fucking hell, there were dream demons now? What the hell was going on? Something else had to be feeding into this magic. If this was just some form of mental magic it would be easy enough to cut off. Cece poked an eye open, witnessing the scene unfold as her and Nell tried their best to focus on the spell. If they were cut off and the others got trapped, well, that would be hard to explain.

“Kill those things!” Cece yelled out to the men wrestling them. “Just don’t kill Winn. We don’t care about the other things.” It probably wouldn’t have any bad effects on Winn. It totally most likely wouldn’t. Maybe. “Nell, you got any fight in you?” Cece and Nell seemed to be juggling the power by this point. Keeping the spell wouldn’t be easy alone, but it was still better than being mauled by an angry wolf of his horde of fucked up nightmares. “I got this if you want to tag in.”

Winn observed the scene unfolding in front of him without worry. He snarled, rushing towards the circle that the damned witches had formed to protect themselves, and started slashing and clawing at the barrier. His ‘claws’ broke off, faded into mist, and then came right back to settle on his paws. Eventually, he would knock this barrier down, and kill both of them. He would feed his bloodlust.

The wolf felt its own claws scrape into the dark ground, blood dripping and sizzling the grass where it fell. Adam’s assault had winded it, but, given it didn’t need to breathe, this wasn’t much of an issue. The knives — silver. But… Silver couldn’t hurt it. Not anymore. Not since… It howled, a strangled, gurgling sound in the darkness, choked off and dove for the boy, dripping maw bared as it went for the hunter’s side. Tearing into his flesh would be the revenge he deserved. After all, Winn Woods had killed his brother. Why not kill Winn’s friends?

The man, for his part, was faring well against Ulfric. He had been trained to hunt werewolves since he was a child, and, before Winn had taken his life, he was good at killing the beasts. If it hadn’t been for his children, watching, the wolf would have never stood a chance. With fury and power, it reached to grab the axe, black tendrils wrapping around it as its twin appeared in the man’s other hand. Excellent. He slashed at Ulfric, going low, trying to cut into the soft skin of the werewolf’s legs. A wolf that couldn’t run was as good as dead.

Nell didn’t need to be asked twice when it came to joining the fray as Cece held her spells. “Just keep draining me, too!” she called to the blonde, knowing the spell needed power to stay aloft. She knew the men could hold their own, but there was still safety in numbers, wasn’t there? Besides, with Winn’s shadow right up against their barrier, it’d be better to head him off right now rather than wait for him to break through. Not for the first time, Nell cursed the fact that she hadn’t yet gotten her summoning tattoos redone after the skin of her arms had peeled off, knowing this would have been much more to the point if she could have brought in her hellhounds or cockatrice. But it didn’t matter, she was confident she’d be able to take him on her lonesome.

Still she’d had the same thought flitting through her mind of whether or not any bodily harm done to this version of Winn would manifest on the man once this was all said and done. If she could, it’d be prudent to take him down with minimal damage done, just as she aimed to do when she’d been bringing in beasts for the Ring. Before she could do that, she needed to get him away from the barrier before he broke it where it stood. Well— no better way to do that than giving him what he wanted, right? Casting a spell over herself that would temporarily enhance her speed, she darted out the other end of the barrier, away from Winn in hopes of getting him to play a little game of chase. “Come and get me, mutt!” Sorry, Ulf, she mentally apologized should he happen to hear.

So there they were, two sorceresses, sleeping beauty wolf, timber wolf, shadow wolf, evil wolfish wolf, man wolfish wolf, and Adam.

In other news, Adam had just gotten bitten in the side by a dream. Was he infected with imaginary lycanthropy now? Did he now have Winn’s emotional hangups in his bloodstream? Sin rabies? What would he tell his family when he turned into a were-dream?

The Hunter might’ve given the issue more thought if he wasn’t in so much pain. Admittedly part of that pain was from where the dream wolf's maw had sunk into his chest and back. The other half of pain was that these silver knives seem to be doing jackshit as Adam football tackled his adversary from the side to try and knock it off balance, trying to plunge his daggers deep into its underbelly.

Ulfric had the shadow man in a holding pattern, keeping the strangely solid figment of Winn’s subconscious at arm’s reach with the blunt side of the axe. But it was getting tiring, so he was relieved when Cece gave the go ahead to just kill the meddlesome manifestation. That was, until it manifested an axe in its hand out of whatever substance dreams were made of. “Ugh, Drit og dra,” he swore under his breath. If he hadn’t resorted to bringing a weapon along with him, would the shadow man have been able to arm himself without copying his?

He didn’t have much time to contemplate that, as the shadow-axe swung towards his legs and he jumped back narrowly missing the blow. Growling, Ulfric swung the axe at the man’s neck only to be blocked by the handle of his. The two axe-heads caught on each other and the werewolf used the stall in the shadow man’s momentum to charge into him and knock him to the ground, before following through with a savage blow that drove the wedge of his axe into his skull. He dug his boot into the man’s neck as he yanked on the handle to dislodge his weapon from the bone it was caught in, and then left it there as took stock of the battlefield. Cece and the rest of the sleepers remained safely inside the circle for now, with Nell holding Winn off while Adam wrestled with the wolf manifestation.

Ulfric’s first instinct was to assist Nell, since he knew and trusted her and had never gotten round to thanking her properly for how she’d assisted him and the Bennetts. But the boy looked to be in more immediate need of assistance, even if the werewolf was reluctant to throw himself into the fray with anyone wielding silver. “Can you handle yourself?” He called out to the young man, when he finally pulled the axe free, glancing between him and the dark haired spellcaster for any changes in the tactical situation.

Chaos had erupted around the group. While Cece had always been pretty adept at tackling insanity and violence with a more level-headed and calm approach, even she had to admit she was getting a bit nervous as Winn barreled towards the barrier. It hadn’t been made to stop a creature as strong as a werewolf. Luckily, Nell had distracted it and led it away, keeping the barrier as well as the spell safe for now. But things weren’t looking especially optimistic at the moment, with Nell facing down Winn’s werewolf, Ulfric and Adam both dealing with their own troubles and injuries. All while Cece was forced to sit in her little bubble, bored and trying to remain focused.

“Hey could you guys wrap this up? I’m trying to focus here! You’re being really loud!” Cece fucked with the trio outside of her bubble, mostly out of boredom. She wished she could drop a message to the group inside of Winn’s brain to hurry the fuck up as well. They were the ones actually lollygagging. Take any longer and their bodies were the ones that would be getting the real shit end of the deal

Winn turned his attention away from the barrier as Nell darted out, but no sooner had she done so that Ulfric’s axe was buried in the skull of the shadow man. In that moment, both of the other shadows seemed to almost glitch, and Winn cried out in pain as the shadows faded back into mist and wisped into him. He twitched, growled, stood stock-still as the mist covered him. The edges were a little sharper, now, claws longer, looking less and less like a werewolf and more like an abomination. Winn set his sights on Ulfric, chasing him down, claws first, fast and furious with wild abandon.

The wolf, meanwhile, howled in pain as Adam’s daggers sunk into its underbelly, rolling over and up again. It grasped at the daggers with its claws, using its newfound resistance to silver and tearing them out of it, and tossing them haphazardly towards the witch. The hunter had some bite to him, did he? Well… It feinted towards the hunter, before turning and barreling towards the witch, hoping it hadn’t been slowed too much by the wound.

“No good fucking wolf,” Nell cursed under her breath as Winn seemed to give up the chase from her as soon as it had started. Still, at least he’d been lured away from Cece and the magic. And perhaps this gave her more of an opening now that he was distracted by Ulfric. Cursing herself for not thinking of it or bringing them in the first place, Nell whispered a quick few words under her breath to Summon forth what would hopefully be her saving grace when it came to the werewolf— wolfsbane, grown in her own greenhouse and crushed until it could be fit into pill form. She’d dropped the capsules into many an unsuspecting wolf’s drink in a bar while she distracted them, and they’d worked wonders when it came to bringing in fighters for the Ring. Of course...none of those werewolves had been in a raging dream state. What was she supposed to do with Winn? Slather the thing in peanut butter and hope he gobbled it up?

She didn’t have a chance to think further on the matter when a sudden, searing pain erupted from her thigh. Huh. A silver dagger seemed to be sticking out of her, much to her annoyance. Looking up, she saw the last of the knives the wolf had tossed headed her way, and her hand instinctively raised, magic pulsing through the air to stop them in their tracks, and turning them back on the charging wolf.

“I’m good, man,” Adam told the lumberjack guy in the midst of wolf wrassling.

Or at least things were fine until the wolf faked him out and made a beeline (dogline?) over towards...

…where Nell giving Winn diet pills? Sleep aids? Now with 50% less chance of wolfing the bed at night?

Holy shit she just got shanked.

Adam didn’t didn’t really have to give that matter any more thought as he sprinted after the wolf-thing, attempting to football tackle the wolf from behind.

Ulfric nodded at Adam’s assurance and did pause as he hurtled himself in Winn’s direction, swinging his axe in a wide berth to keep the creature that had grown from the man at a distance. It wasn’t enough to keep his unnervingly long claws from scraping along the flesh of his arms leaving bright, burning trails. But the older werewolf kept at it, pushing Winn back in Nell’s direction so they could take him on from both sides. Noticing the vial of what looked to be pills in her hand, he realized her intent to get him to swallow them. Chances of getting that done without feeling the full sting of Winn’s fangs were slim, and even if it wasn’t the full moon, he wouldn’t have blamed the humans for being hesitant to risk that. From the way things were going, hesitancy wasn’t something they could afford. “Toss it,” he called to Nell, jerking his head back to indicate that she should go long as he dodged another swipe of Winn’s talons. “I can do what needs to be done.” Soon Woods wouldn’t be able to brag he was the only one who’d gone and got himself deliberately bit. That alone would make it worth it, even without the bonus hopefully putting an end to the nightmare the ritual had unleashed.

Things were getting pretty boring, leaning back and supplying power while all the others were battling werewolves and dream demons in shit. Not that Cece would rather be battling it out with any of them. That shit looked hella dangerous and- did Nell just get impaled with a dagger? Damn. She didn’t let it bother her though, and kept on trucking. They seemed to have a plan. Or a semblance of a plan at least. Cece had a guess what Nell had summoned, but it didn’t matter much at this point what it was as long as it worked. If the group could get that shit inside of Winn, then they may have a chance at calming the asshole down. Honestly, Winn was even more unbearable asleep. From her bubble, there wasn’t much Cece could do to help the group rangle the wolf. But she might be able to distract it, as long as she could multitask.

Sound spells weren’t difficult. Trapping noise within a certain space was easy enough. It was helpful for keeping conversations private and blocking out noise. Cece used to use it to focus, it beat the discomfort of noise cancelling headphones. She split the power between Darwin and Winn now, taking a moment to focus on the wolf that was attacking the rest of the group. She drew a circle into the dirt below her while chanting to herself, trapping the sound within a small barrier around the wolf. It wasn’t hard to tell that the other two weren’t exactly normal humans, the last thing she needed to do was blow out Adam and Ulfric’s eardrums too. Once she was confident the noise would only affect Winn, she positioned her fingers at her mouth, mumbling “Heel boy” and laughing to herself before whistling. It wouldn’t look like Cece wasn’t making any sound at all, unless they were in Winn’s bubble, where the high pitched noise must have been deafening to a creature with enhanced hearing.

The wolf went snout first into the ground with the force of Adam’s tackle, struggling against Adam’s grip. It wouldn’t die. Not here. Not like this. Not again. And certainly not to a fucking whelp of a hunter. It gnashed its bloody teeth, still fresh from the blood it had already taken from Adam. It was slowing down, it knew, a side-effect of the wounds the hunter had inflicted. Was this its last gasp? Was it to be forgotten, again?

Winn snarled, then howled loud and deep as the whistle from Cece — fuckin’ witches — pierced his monstrous ears. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t move. He needed to fight, needed to escape, needed to kill. But try as he might, he was immobilized. The shadows clung tighter to him, but he couldn’t breathe.

With the knives landed on the wolf, and Adam tackling the dream creature from behind, Nell was free to magic the wolfsbanes pills straight into the hand of Ulfric, leaving no room for error as the glass vial rocketed towards him, making a beeline for the ginger wolf. Ulfric would be alright to get in down Winn’s throat, right? There was a kernel of worry gathering in her gut, but she didn’t have the time to pay it any attention while there was still a shadow wolf gnashing away, currently connected to Adam. Looking back to the pair, she couldn’t help but wonder when the wolf had gotten hold of the Hunter, another flicker of worry flashing through her as she saw the initial wounds that had been dealt to her friend. Mental note. Healing party after all this bullshit is done.

Speaking of healing, the fucking knife was still lodged in her damn leg. Maybe she could use that, though. Sure, you weren’t really supposed to take knives out of wounds until you were ready to heal them, but the sooner they ended this— the sooner she’d be able to stitch herself and the others back together. Gritting her teeth, Nell pulled the dagger from her thigh, stifling the gasp that wanted to break free from her as pain once again made itself known. “Adam!” she called out before tossing the knife his way, figuring it might be a welcome sight in dispatching the wolf. The silver hadn’t seemed to hurt the thing, but Ulfric’s shadow man had withered away under the axe, right? First the vial, now the dagger, she really should have looked into more shot put in highschool with the way this scuffle was going.

Adam knew that there were two main methods to kill wolves. One was slow and cruelly tactical, a painful crippling that permitted an inclined hunter to track the victim back to other prey. This was typically accomplished with heavy jacketed AP ammo, though a serrated tactical knife could serve with some freakish strength behind it. The prey would typically panic in the agony of the steadily worsening wound and their instinct to run would in fact seal their demise, as circulation did the Hunter’s work for them.  

The second method was the to maximize internal tissue trauma in the shortest period possible, singular swift brutality. Softer tipped bullets were usually employed for this, as they mushroomed inside the body cavity and killed very quickly. But this method was admittedly much harder to accomplish with a knife.

Earlier this year Adam would’ve likely gone for the first method, maybe even enjoyed the savage simplicity of it. Growing up, Adam had been warned in vain to not get addicted to the adrenal rush of combat. A Hunter is merely a servant fulfilling a duty, and taking pleasure in regrettable necessity was the quickest way to fall from grace. After dad died, Adam had backslid in a big way. The consequences spoke for themselves.

As he’d been taught, Adam mentally visualized a six inch deep wound through the chest into the hard knot-like heart. The Hunter locked his legs around the wolf-beast he was wrestling, pressing down on its lungs. With one hand, he lunged directly under the wolf’s jaw to grab its throat directly on the trachea, muscles knotting and straining like bruised wire as Adam tried to twist the nightmare-thing’s unnaturally large maw away from him, grimacing as its thick moist breath sent hot splittle across his face.

Ignoring the searing pain of the seeping lacerations the wolf’s thrashing claws had raked open during their wrestling match on the forest floor, Adam called upon the rote mental exercises of training while his breathing settled into a staccato tempo. Pain, the filth caked mud, the ritual, the other combatants, and Nell’s blood still sliding down this blade all faded. For a moment Adam and the wolf seemed completely alone, nothing else existed. Almond shaped amber eyes met the human’s cold jasper stare in a split-second of understanding before a dagger’s plunge snuffed out their light.

Once the frigid metal of Adam’s dagger was the only thing left of the wolf’s form, the air shifted, again, the black mist of the creature fading back into Winn. Winn howled, once more, in pain, as though this much power was too much for him. He fell to the ground, writhing, twitching as the force of the shadows overcame him, the force of the screeching from Cece’s spell blistering in his ears. Howling cut through the sky, through the clearing.

There was a hand in his mouth, shoving something down his throat, and Winn chomped down hard into the skin of Ulfric’s arm, but the deed was done.

Winn’s body convulsed as the wolfsbane took effect, not even magic able to overcome the werewolf’s weaknesses. Eventually, the shadowy form collapsed, maw first, onto the forest floor. The woods were silent, the mist was fading. Winn Woods was facedown in the dirt, bruised and bloodied, but breathing.

And the dreamers were waking up.

Blinking, Noah opened his eyes, the adrenaline of their kissing making him grin. “Winn?” Noah called out to his boyfriend next to him, rolling over to poke the other, before panic overtook him. Where was Winn? Something was wrong.

[paladinwife]

ya didnt have to call me out like that man- GSHSGSJKJGJ but uh all 50 for goober :> (beatrice-santello)

@beatrice-santello​ @of-saints-and-demons​ oh god here comes Goober

1. Does your F/O have a birthmark? (or any type of freckles or beauty marks?)

None that are visible! She might have some on her body under the clothes, but none that we know about in canon. I headcanon that she has a couple of moles on her torso.

2. Is your F/O the type to volunteer to their community? 

Judging by her past, which she spent fighting to protect her community, she does in her own way. She’d probably keep doing it as well, were she not trapped as an AI in the Corporation.

3. Does your F/O the type to be giving or to take?

Ignoring what I thought this question meant as first she’s more selfless than you’d think. There’s a reason she’s kind of a hero figure in the Back Streets. Even now, her anger is over the dangerousness of the anomalies and her inability to protect people. I’d say she’s more of a giving person.

4. Does your F/O have any battle scars?

There’s a couple very visible on her face. Most likely there’s some on her body as well that you just can’t see because of the bodysuit.

5. Does your F/O wear make up? (Do you think they would be open to wearing makeup if they don’t wear it daily?) 

I don’t think she does, mostly because she sees it as a waste of time. The fact that she’d look great is beside the point.

6. Has your F/O ever dye their hair or worn a wig?

She hasn’t. She probably sees that as a waste of time too, but her natural hair is gorgeous either way.

7. What is your F/O fashion taste?

Sleek and maybe a bit edgy, with lots of black and red. Especially considering her signature longcoat.

8. How tall is your F/O?

Taaaall. She’s taller than every other sephirah in the game. If she’s not six feet tall, she’s pretty close.

9. What is your F/O’s blood type?

In her present form, she doesn’t have blood. Which is a really ominous statement out of context. Even when she did, I have no idea what her blood type would be.

10. When is your F/O birthday?

She doesn’t have a canon birthday, but I think sometime in late October to early November. She’s probably a Scorpio.

11. Does your F/O know how to cook? If so are they good at it?

She’s an okay cook, I think. She’s not amazing at it, but she can get by.

12. What is your F/O favorite flavor?  (sweet, sour, bitter, salty and umami (savory))

It isn’t listed here, but she probably prefers spicy food over anything else, and I mean very spicy. If she’s not in actual pain, it’s not enough.

13. If your F/O could be a fan of any video game what do you think it would be?

For some reason I like the idea of her just being unfairly good at Smash. She can and will crush you. Her main is probably Ganon or something similar, heavy on offense.

14. What type of aesthetic does you F/O have?

Reeeeed. She has a clear theming color, and I feel like her aesthetic involves it a lot. Red and slightly edgy.

15. What color is your F/O eyes?

They’re a golden color. Sometimes in fanart she’s portrayed as heterochromatic because of her damaged eye.

16. Does your F/O have any tattoos? If not do they like or hate the concept of tattoos? 

She doesn’t have any in canon, but I feel like she could get behind the idea. She’d probably get something in memory of her fallen comrades, as a reminder of what she’s here for and what’s at stake.

17. If you could matching tattoos what would it be?

Hmm, some kind of matching symbol to remind of us everything we’ve been through. Potentially one another’s weapons?

18. Does your F/O have any piercings?

I don’t think she does. She doesn’t hate the aesthetic, but depending on where they are they might be risky in battle, so she might not get any.

19. Is your F/O a cake or pie person?

Oooh, hard. I don’t think she’s crazy about sweets, but she’d prefer pie.

20. Is your F/O a morning or night person?

More of a night owl, I’d say. She’s just used to getting most of her work done at night, and it’s a hard habit to break.

21. Is your F/O a coffee or tea person?

Definitely a coffee person. It’s more readily available at the Corporation, and she prefers the taste. She takes hers black.

22. Is your F/O half empty or half full type of person?

She’s more of a pessimist and can maybe be a bit bitter at times. Hard to blame her, considering everything she’s gone through.

23. Does your F/O have a pet? If not in canon what do you think they would have if given the chance? 

I don’t think she has one in canon, due to the peculiarities of working for the Corporation. In a AU I could see her going for a big dog, or maybe a cat.

24. Is your F/O the type to want to live in the city or live out in the country? 

She’s lived in the city all her life and is used to it, but I don’t think she’d mind the space when it comes to living in the country.

25. Does your F/O like to swim?

I’m not sure she ever has, but (assuming she’s not in robot form) I could see her enjoying it. Helps keep her strong and all.

26. What harry potter house would your F/O be in? (Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin)

She’s a pretty clear shoe in for Gryffindor, especially considering her past.

27. If your F/O was in “avatar: the last air bender” what type of bender would they be? (air, water, earth, and fire) 

Honestly if her design didn’t already scream firebender, the fiery personality sure does.

28. Is your F/O LGBT+? 

It seems to be a pretty popular idea in the fandom that she’s some kind of wlw. I personally like to see her as bi like me.

29. Does your F/O have any artistic hobbies? (Knitting, drawing, painting, etc)

I don’t think she’s ever tried any, and she’d probably say something about just not being meant for that. Still, I wonder if she’d enjoy it if she ever did get the chance to try. Maybe just as stress relief.

30. What’s a piece of clothing your F/O is never seen without? (glasses, a necklace, hat, etc)

Her design changed as a sephirah, but that long coat she wore before was so iconic. When it comes to accessories though, she tends to keep things light.

31. What type of scent does your F/O remind you of?

Maybe some kind of warm, smokey scent. I mean I know she’s portrayed smoking a lot but maybe some kind of nice bonfire smell?

32. What’s something you see often that has little to no relation to your F/O but always reminds you of them?

She’s never used one in canon, but I could see her appreciating a good knife. Just like swords, which I absolutely do associate with her.

33. Do you have any silly nicknames or pet names for your F/O?

Goober. She probably hates that one. I’m also pretty generous with pet names, which embarrass her if they’re done in front of others, but she kinda likes them when it’s just us.

34. What does your F/O house/apartment look like? (or what do you think it looks like)

I think she’s just fine with a smaller space, just a small apartment is fine. She keeps it pretty organized, not minimalist by any means but she keeps it nice and clean.

35. What season reminds you of your F/O? (winter, spring, summer, fall)

Honestly, fall. Not just because of the colors, but I could see her liking it best.

36. Have you ever had a dream with your F/O in it?

Recently she has started appearing in my dreams. Confusingly Binah (who I’m not considering at all) was also there?

37. Does your F/O play any musical instruments?

I honestly doubt she’s ever had the chance to try, so she has no idea how. Her learning to play a saxophone though, hmm...

38. What’s a song that reminds you of your F/O when you hear?

For her as a character and not in a romantic way, Firestarter by the Prodigy. It definitely has the right heavy feel, and the fire imagery is always good for her.

Also, low key, Together Again by Janet Jackson came on earlier today, and it had me thinking about my ship with her.

39. What is your relationship like with your F/O?

Actually, really close. I’m one of the few people she feels like she can trust, and really she needs me around. I’m the only one she can lean on, and while she knows sometimes she doesn’t know how to handle emotional things, she’ll repay the debt by doing everything she can to protect me.

40. How long have you been with your F/O? (or at least been interested in them?)

I only just added her to the list in the past few days, but I’ve been thinking about her for slightly longer. Still, it hasn’t been very long.

41. Where is your F/O from? (as in born)

She’s from the Back Streets, which is a slum kind of area which is apparently pretty dangerous to live in. I’m also not sure what the city from Lobotomy Corporation is called, but it’s some kind of metropolitan area. 

42. Is your F/O the type to read reviews, or just go with their gut

She definitely goes with her gut, just as a general rule. After all, her gut is all she has.

43. What does your F/O’s Saturdays usually look like?

God, a much needed break. Get some coffee, maybe get a workout in, not have to deal with the bullshit from the Corporation. Maybe have some time with me. (This is, of course, unless she just has to work on Saturdays anyway, but god I want her to have a break.)

44. What is your F/O’s most valuable possession?

It’s probably a memento from her time in the Back Streets. Something small, but she’s still pretty fiercely protective of it. In some ways, it’s a reminder of what she’s lost.

45. What’s a fad you can see your F/O taking part of?

Honestly the thought of her taking part in any fad is really funny. The closest thing I can think of is her trying crossfit or something along those lines (and even then, something tells me she wouldn’t be impressed).

46. does your F/O prefer to work alone or with a team?

You know, I feel like it’s really easy to assume she prefers to work alone, especially with how she acts in game, but I think she misses having a team of people she could really trust. I feel like she likes to work with a team, but it has to be the right team.

47. How well does your F/O know tech? (such as computers, smart phones)

She has some exposure to tech, but mostly in a Corporation setting. So some things she’s pretty used to handling, but others she has no idea what to do with.

48. What’s some advice your F/O would tell you?

My first thought was she would tell me to hold on to what I believe in. I think in many ways she’s ashamed of not being able to protect others and the situation she’s currently in, so that’s what she wants to say the most.

49. What animal reminds you of your F/O?

I know she’s been compared to various kinds of big cats before, but maybe a bear? Like for both the vicious reputation and the protectiveness.

50. What color reminds you of your F/O?

Well, considering how strong the color theming is, it feels wrong to say anything but red.

51. What’s the most interesting fact you know about your F/O?

So we’re limited in how much we know about her in canon, so my fact might be kind of lame. But while she’s usually depicted wielding Mimicry (Nothing There’s weapon), she uses many more than that in her Sephirah Meltdown. They include, from what I remember, weapons from Spider Bud, Burrowing Heaven, Silent Orchestra, Apocalypse Bird, One Sin and Hundreds of Good Deeds, Mountain of Smiling Bodies, King of Greed, and Judgment Bird. In fact, I’m pretty sure she touches on most of the aleph-class weapons. Of those, my favorite one that she wields is Twilight (from Apocalypse Bird).

[the-house-of-the-nine]

In Mind of Misery: Manipulation, Part 12

[ And so the journey begins.  Three Separate stories to tell here all happening Simultaneously.  Attacking from three fronts, is this the beginning of the end for The Nine?  Please Like, Share, and Follow us!   We are hoping to get new people coming our way, and could use the love! Thank you everyone!!!!! ]

Cast:

[ L.K ] -  Lazarius Kashebahl, Marseille, Raelyndia Duskhollow

[ P.K ] - Kretus Dark

[ V.D ] - Verzatea Duskflame, Pame Myl’Brin

[ J ] - Jursol, Jimba, Mawa

[ T ] - Talisin aka The Boy

[ R ] - Raven

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

[ L. K ]   Once the door was demolished and sent flying out into the other part of the crypt they would notice something very interesting indeed; the blood was gone.  The previous room that was where the massive head had been was empty and all that remained was a simple stone room with a stairway up.

The group had no time for delay, they had to move quickly, and since the stairs were no longer a sliding board the would have no problem getting out.  Once they reached the top the would notice that the sky was black and the massive tentacle worms were flying across the sky.

Take to the trees.  The group raced away from the crypt in an attempt to put some distance between them and the horrible place.  But once they were finally safely away from their hell on earth; the reality sunk in.  What would they do now.

“We need a place to stay, somewhere we can repair and heal.  Raven needs energy, and Marseille needs some serious medical attention.  And it’s about time that boy got a proper meal.  We can’t return to Quelthalas, if we do it will spell disaster.  We all look like convicts.  And we need to make contact with survivors....Siida...”.  

Lazarius eyes narrowed as he clenched them tightly.  Losing both sisters.  He was certainly a mess.

[ R ]   The redheaded woman was unresponsive in Lazarius’ hold. Her slender form wrapped in cloth that left only hear bare feet and shoulders with bra straps exposed, leaving much to the imagination.

At first, if through the panic and chaos any took notice, one might note beneath the mess of black blood all over her, her skin was darkened and the veins that could be seen were blackened. Her skin had split in some areas, evident by the blotches of black soaked through various points of the cloth.

Was she breathing?

It looked as if Laz returned with a dead body. Not a peep came from her as he clutched and ran holding her. Her thick red hair covering up half-elven ears.

By the time they reached the outside world and were breaking through the tree-line to cover, all of those signs of void corruption had faded from her body and any void she was emitting was dormant.

[ P . K ]   Here he had been. Minding his own business. Cozied up in his small hut within the depths of the Ghostlands. He liked it here. It was oddly peaceful despite the badies within the woods. His favorite tavern was here, too and it made easy trek into the city if he needed supplies. He’d been in this small hut for… too long.

Anytime he began to think about how long his mood soured and he fell into a depression. But not today. He had hunted a lynx that morning, skinned it bare to sell its pelt, then gutted it, readying it for his dinner. Just as he was about to pour himself a steaming bowl of lynx and veggie stew, the rumbling started.

The red head was immediately on edge, tensing, a sense of gloom and doom overwhelming him a moment as memories began flooding back. No, this wasn’t happening. This place of his, this sanctuary he built, it was peaceful here. Then he heard voices over his crackling flame coming from the direction of the crypts.

The few people who would venture that area were usually experiences archaeologists and explorers. And so, his dinner interrupted, the man grabbed his daggers and headed toward that direction. A few minutes later… The red-haired male would easily be seen along the tree line, not hiding himself at all.

He never felt the need to in this area, finding most things barely able to call themselves threats. But what he saw, the mangled group, left him confused.

“What in the bloody. . . is this? Are… are you all o---“

He stopped dead, blinking once, twice,

“Teacup?”

He said quietly, realizing the blonde… was the spirited elf he’d met many months ago. The tall, lanky, tattoo-covered, red-headed elf gaped at the group, seemingly in shock.

[ V . D ]   The fresh air had certainly done wonders to alleviate the tension for both kaldorei and sindorei, Pame shaking from exhaustion with all the consistent excitement... Verzatea was shaking as well, although her shaking more so had to do with the wave of tears rolling down her cheeks as she endured Lazarius's recant of their situation.

Things were looking terribly bleak for them in this moment, and all she could think about was the horrors those in the Bastille must have endured. If it were anything like what their small and disheveled group experienced in the tombs she could only pity those who remained alive. If any did.

But first and foremost the issue of a safe space was a prominent concern before all else. Without a place to rest they could all die here and now in these woods. They were vulnerable bring exhausted, the wounded wouldn't survive long in this chill either... But the stench of ichor and rotting flesh and other unidentifiable offense odors was replaced with a peculiar smell.

Something that tickled an old memory in the far back of her mind... It was then that she'd lift her eyes to inspect the woods, her breath hitching in her throat before Verzatea mentions, her voice a ghost of a whisper as she tried to remember,

"This place... It's familar-- Like walking through a memory."

Only then did the appearance of Kretus stir the two elven women from their state of dismay. Pame stiffened and bore her fangs in a threatening snarl, her grip on Mars tightening-- until Verzatea audibly.gasps in astonishment!

"Kretus!"

She breathes out, relief swelling in her chest to see such a familiar and friendly face,

"By the Shadows, what are you doing this far out?"

Her lip quivers as she stumbles closer, her normally straight blonde hair frazzled and tousled about wildly with blood matting some tresses together. Too her dress skirts were soaked around the bottom of in a similar blood-- fel, everyone was soaked likely.. Resembling the devils rejects no doubt.

[ P . K ]   Kretus immediately moves forward upon her stumble, attempting to sling both arms under hers and tugging her to his chest in order to keep her from falling. Gods, they all looked a hot mess.

“I... live... out here,”

He replies absently to her inquiry as his golden eyes moved to each individual in her party of misfits.

“You all look as if N’zoth himself beat you up and dragged you through a pool of blood.”

[ L. K ]   Lazarius would have probably just burst into attack mode on this stranger; had he not had his hands full with the blanketed Raven.  She was curled up in his arms and he was unable to really do much, but all things considered he would have not given this man a second look if he was free.

"Verzatea, might we focus please. . . I am assuming you know this fire haired country boy. . . introductions can wait."  

He huffed, making sure Raven was secure and calling over to the man.

"While I am all for sentimental reunions; you have hit the nail on the head my friend. . . Oddly square on the head. . . that is exactly what just happened. . . in every sense of the word."

Lazarius would take several steps closer, past Marseille and Pame, around Jursol and her raptors and beside Verza and the boy she carried.  He would look the man square in the eye with those ancient blackened pools.

"We need a place to lay low, recover and take inventory on what exactly we are doing. . ."

He peered toward Verza.

"Familiar how, if you know someone who has a large enough facility for us to find refuge we need it.  We're losing valuable time."

[ J ]   Once outside she took to the trees to move, her raptors remained low but were cunning little fucks. They would easily avoid detection. Following the others in silence as they made their way to their destination. While she did not know where they were going, she fully trusted them.

She had at some point spaces out follows them, before hearing a strange elf yelling. There were no words yet from her as she watched and listened to the other talking. Her eyes glanced at Mars as she moved to help Pame with him.

“He be needin help now.”

Her words were few but she knew Pame understood. Jursol was ready to lend a hand with his wounds, and with a nasty tasting concoction that would help.

[ P . K ]   The red head scowled, mouthing the words, fire haired country boy with a bemused look on his face. As the male came closer, he squinted a moment, locking gazes. Why does he look familiar?

Kretus didn’t have time to ponder nor did he seem startled at Lazarius’ blunt reply of how right he had been on his observation. His Adam’s apple merely bobbed as he swallowed hard, and then he cleared his throat.

“I have a hut nearby with medical supplies, food, blankets, so on and so forth. I just did a supply run to the city two days hence. Come. It’s just a few minutes from here near the river edge....”

[ L. K ]   "I have a man with a missing arm, and teeth marks in his chest cavity. . .have you ever seen a twelve foot tall human head with a centipede body? He was devoured by it. . ."

Lazarius snapped, giving the man a stern look from his blood covered face.

"A comatose boy who has been out cold for several hours and is probably going to need a complete frontal lobe lobotomy. . .and this specimen I have quite literally plucked from an alternate reality who is going to die lest she feed on the raw dark energy of the cosmos. . . .and you've got a 'hut' was it?"

Lazarius peered down at Verza with another glance.

"Don't you have family somewhere around here? You were off for nearly two months visiting them. . . I thought you said the Duskflame Estate was somewhere on the border of the Ghostlands and Eversong. . ."

[ P . K ]   Kretus just stared at the man, hardly phased by the implied insult to his... hut.

“I mean that’s fine. Be on your way then if you have some where better to be. But something tells me my hut with things you will need for a journey is better than what you just described.”

[ V . D ]   Verzatea's shoulders tensed with the haughty and stressed tones, her hands clutching onto the familiar figure of Kretus. She would have pressed her forehead against the gentlemans torso when he first pulled her forth,  but rather than linger in this moment - no matter how she wanted to given it was the safest she'd felt since the tomb - she recalled the severity of the situation. Her eyes glance around then, hissing out:

"Mind your tempers,"

She sighs through her nose, standing up right now and releasing Kretus after a grateful smile was sent his way,

"It id very good to see you again my friend... And once more I must ask your aid-- While your home would be an appreciated opportunity to rest..,"

Tea glances back to offer the group an apologetic stare,

"We cannot linger... Its no guarantee we're out of the woods just yet. Theres another place, one much safer than the middle of the woods-- I just..,"

She glances around, the familiar forest and its natural scents riling those old memories once more... Childhood memories, even, but not enough to navigate the woods blindly,

"I dont know how to get there from here."

Turning to the group Tea remarks hesitantly,

"If we can make it to the North-Eastern most tip between the Ghostlands and Eversong Woods we can gather safely at my childhood home..,"

Glancing over her shoulder she'd peer up toward Kretus to explain,

"You aren't safe in these woods anymore, after having contact with us. Come with us? Lead us, even, since you know these woods well?"

Pame grunts as the weight of Marseille begins to dawn on her tired muscles, huffing out in aggravation,

"Choose quickly."

@siidaraykashebahl

@pyravari-kashebahl

@frompage112

@thebladeitself

@whatadarkbitch

@zandalaridruidofgonk

@miss-irascible

To be continued in “In Mind of Misery, Manipulation, Part 13″

[scaryscarecrows]

Little Town (It's a Nosy Village)

Note: they're both babies (well, y'know, KIND OF) so Kitty's a little more reckless and Jonathan's accent is still very much a thing.

Jonathan privately considers Arlen to be the birthplace of every ‘small southern town’ stereotype. They’re spread out, but everybody knows everybody’s business, you go to church or else, and outsiders are welcomed in with wide smiles and gossiped about with wide eyes.

Well. Mostly. To a point. They’ve got their black side, and it’s larger than one would suppose, given the size of the place. Lobotomies happen-the last one he’s aware of took place when he was twelve. Too much of an outsider? You’ll be run out. Nothing so blatant as burning crosses or anything, just…social ostracization is a funny thing.

Why in the world the Richardsons moved here, of all places, is a mystery. They’re not churchgoers (Granny was horrified that her nearest neighbors were heathens), they’re not here for the farming opportunities (such as they are)…why.

He asked, once, out of genuine curiosity. It’s hot, it’s sunny, it’s so…small-town…it has no attraction whatsoever. Apparently Mr. Richardson was writing a book set in the area and wanted the peace. Jonathan doubts that-he was a government worker, for crying out loud-but he let it go. Selfishly, he’s glad. Their presence has granted him with what he hesitantly has dubbed a friend.

Kitty Richardson is five foot nothing of big eyes and freckles and giggling that he doesn’t try to understand. She is also, he has decided, fueled by sugar and Short Person Rage. Seriously, it’s the easiest thing in the world to tick her off. All one has to do is use her as an armrest.

Not that he would do that sort of thing, of course.

He’s read a couple of books involving multi-gendered friendships, and apart from the ridiculousness of ‘everybody decides to date at the end’, they also make the error of ‘good girl, idiot boy’.

This is a complete lie, and if he ever writes a book like that, he’s pointing that out. Kitty is always the one getting them into things. ‘Haunted bridge? Come on, let’s sneak out.’ ‘The fuck did you say about my chest, football player twice my height?’

No one believes him, because she’s tiny and because she’s very, very good at looking innocent and what-do-you-mean-I-didn’t-break-his-nose. Maybe he’s biased, but he thinks she could get away with murder, if she tried hard enough.

“Jonathan?” He blinks and looks down. “You okay?”

FINE FINE EVERYTHING’S FINE NO REASON TO DO SOMETHING STUPID.

“Just tired. Rain kept me up.” She doesn’t look convinced and he’s quick to run damage control. “I don’t think it’s rained like that since y’all moved in.”

He inwardly curses at the slip, but she doesn’t seem to notice. Good.

“Oh, good, so it doesn’t always rain like that.”

“We do get tornadoes.”

“What?” That was a squeak, and that was hilarious. “Tell me you’re joking. Please tell me you’re trying to see how much I’ll believe you.”

“No, we really do get tornadoes sometimes. Nothing awful, but…”

She stares at him in horror.

“I’m going to die.”

He nudges that mental image aside and crams the last of his books into his backpack. There. All set for the weekend, with a bit of light reading to do besides. If he gets any time, and if Granny doesn’t rifle through his backpack again.

He really, really hopes he doesn’t have to spend another night out There.

“Yeah, they might have to get you out of a tree.”

“I hate heights!”

“I really doubt you’d be conscious for that bit.” Or alive and he’d like to change the subject now, thanks. “Come on, a tree blew down last night, we have to take the long way home.”

The ground is squishy under their shoes, even after a whole day of sunshine. He wasn’t so lucky as to have the chapel catch fire, but the Higginson’s barn did-they barely managed to save the horse. Jonathan’s glad, on the horse’s behalf-it’s not her fault the owners are idiots.

And burning to death sounds like a horrible way to go.

They have to pass by the property on this route, and he can see the truck’s gone-probably into town proper for nails or somethin’. It could have been worse, as far as he can tell-the roof’s had, but the walls are still standing.

Kitty draws a sucker from her backpack, unwraps it, and waves it in front of him.

“Lick?”

“No, thank you.”

“Scared of cooties*?”

“Cooties are for children.” He leans back, spine cracking. “So are those, for that matter.”

“Only if you go to church.” she says innocently, pursing her lips around one side of it. It takes him a minute to realize what she’s implying and that mental image is going to be a bitch to get rid of. Thanks a lot.

“Kitty-!”

She cackles and promptly chokes. Serves her right.

The horse trots up to the fence. She looks none the worse for wear and she doesn’t shy back when he puts his hand out.

“Are you allowed to do that?”

“Probably not.” he says absently, letting her blow on his palm before leaning over to pat her neck. “Hey there, big girl, you have a rough night?”

She snorts and shifts obligingly so she’s parallel to the fence. Kitty takes a step back.

“Does she bite?”

“Not if you’re careful. Want to pet her?”

She eyes the horse, clearly a little nervous, and finally nods before rewrapping her sucker and sticking it in her back pocket.

“If she bites me, I’m blaming you.”

He grins-this old nag hardly snaps at flies, in all reality-and motions her over. The horse turns her head, mildly interested in the new small creature in the road.

“Put your hand up like this, nice and flat…easy there, big girl, we’re not gonna hurt you…”

The horse bends her head down and nudges Kitty’s palm. Kitty giggles, more of a surprised sound than anything.

“That tickles!”

“Uh-huh.”

“She’s, uh…really big.”

“You’re very small.” he points out. She shoots him a dirty look. “I’m just saying.”

The mare finally draws her head back and bends down, cropping the grass at the base of the fence. Kitty pops her sucker back in her mouth and looks at her.

“Does she have a name?”

“No idea.” He shifts his backpack to his other shoulder and leans over to pat her neck again. “Good girl.” There’s the sound of the Higginson’s truck-a rattling thing that’s held together through duct tape and prayer-and he steps back. “We should go. They’re…they don’t like me too much.”

“Does anyone?”

“No.”

She loops her arm through his and he wonders why.

“That’s not true.”

“Mm.” No, seriously, why are they now connected. “If you say so.”

“My mum likes you. She says you’re a good influence.” That’s a first, and he’ll be smug about it once he solves the riddle of Why Is She Touching Him. “And I like you, even if you are a goddamn telephone pole.”

Well, that’s nice-wait what he’s very confused.

Also, she’s still touching him and yes it’s nice but there’s no logical reason for it. Books did not prepare him for this. Help.

“Wait. How does she like me? I haven’t met her yet.”

“I’ve told her things.”

Oh god. Like what? What sort of things do normal people tell their guardians about their friends?

He’s doomed.

* * *

He’s not doomed, as it turns out. Mrs. Richardson is a plump woman, a little taller than Kitty (not hard), who practically wrestles him to the dining room table and informs him that he will eat something of his own violation or she will bring out the feeding tube.

“Mu-um-”

“You didn’t tell me this!”

“I did, stop scaring him!”

This has never happened to him before. It’s confusing and he’s starting to wonder if he hit his head or something.

“Oh, Kitty, don’t be dramatic. What do you want to drink, sweetie?”

“Uh, just water, I think-”

“You’re sure? It’s no trouble-”

No. He needs control over this situation.

“No, water’d be fine. Please.” She eyes him as though he might sprout an extra head, but brings him a glass of ice water all the same. “Th-thank you, Ma’am.”

“Don’t you Ma’am me. Mary is fine.”

That goes against everything he knows and it’s just not going to work out. Sorry, Ma’am.

“Mu-um…”

“All right, all right. Behave.”

And with that, she leaves the room and he’s left to wonder what just happened. He thinks he might have just been Mothered, and he’s not sure how to feel about it.

“Mum’s…used to getting her own way.”

Well. He can see where she gets it, then.

He nods, a little overwhelmed, and takes a sip of his water. It’s…nice…in here. Warm. Things aren’t falling apart and his usual where’s Granny and how mad do her footsteps sound senses are quiet.

“Are you eating anything?”

“Motherrrr!”

“I don’t hear chewing!”

Kitty buries her face in her hands and groans, “My god, she’s embarrassing.”

Lest she really have a feeding tube tucked away somewhere, he takes a cookie from the plate. It looks okay. It’s still a little warm between his fingers, even.

Kitty hooks an ankle around a free chair and drags it over to use as a footrest.

“I’m pretty sure she doesn’t have a feeding tube.”

“Pretty sure?” The cookie’s not bad, and he’s relieved to find that it is indeed chocolate chip rather than deceitful bastard, raisin. “That’s…alarming.”

“She was a nurse. We may or may not have some things she borrowed from the hospital upstairs. In case of emergencies.”

“Feeding tube?”

“I’ve never seen one.”

Better be safe than sorry. He reaches for another cookie.

“I expect those cookies gone!” comes a shout from the other room. “Is that clear?”

“Watch your crap telly and stop trying to force-feed him from the living room!”

“Don’t make me come in there!”

That’s it. He knows what’s happened. Either he’s dead, or he’s dying and this is some strange dream.

“We’re eating, Mrs. Richardson.” There. Maybe that’ll placate her.

“Mary!”

Kitty plunks her head onto the table and reaches blindly for the plate.

“Kill me now.”

 *Kitty would more likely use the term dreaded lurgi, but we’ll say she picked up the ‘cooties’ term recently (because the comedic flow would be jarred otherwise, so sue me).

[pisc1s]

Entertainment by Waterparks (Review)

Every pop-punk connoisseur has heard of this iconic band, I’m sure, and lo and behold, they released a sophomore album only a few days ago! Did it – in my opinion – match up to its predecessor, Double Dare? You’re about to find out.  

      Track 1: 11:11

The 10-track album opens up with 11:11, a song that plays with mystical and mysterious sounds, beginning with distinctive synth-sounds and then it elaborates with the guitars and drums. Unfortunately, it did not live up to my expectations. I think it is sufficient; it definitely grows on you the more you listen. Also, it does the job of giving the listener a small taste of what’s to come later on the record, but it’s not particularly memorable. I did notice that the drums are remarkable so, kudos to Otto!

Song rating: 6.5/10

Track 2: Blonde

From there we move to Blonde, the first single and one of the best songs of the album. At a first listen it can be deceiving, the upbeat rhythm and lyrics like I think the blondes are done with fun and I think the blondes are done we’re all too cool for fun may seem fun and shallow. Nonetheless, if you pay close attention to the words, they speak of sadness and depression, but at the same time they hint of recovery through love, so it’s both sad and happy. Musically it’s exactly what you’d expect of Waterparks, a tune! So yeah, 10/10 would recommend!

Song rating: 10/10

Track 3: Peach (Lobotomy)

I must admit, this track had me hook within the first 10 seconds, and for the most random of reasons. It reminded me of Dick & Jane by Sidney York, which is the theme song for the South Korean series Age of Youth or Hello, My Twenties! on Netflix (if you haven’t seen it I would also recommend it ;-)).

Anyways, Peach (Lobotomy) is a very pop-inspired song about being so in love with somebody they take over all your thoughts. It does an exceptional job of conveying this feeling of obsession, and madness even. It seems to me that the guys dared to step outside the box on this one and do something a bit different to what they would usually do, which is so commendable and it definitely worked!

Song rating: 10/10

Track 4: We Need To Talk

We Need To Talk is a difficult tune to judge, in my opinion. It’s catchy, for sure, but what bug me are the lyrics. The song discusses Awsten’s doubts with a previous relationship and his revelations that had occurred whilst he was in the relationship. Loads of songs deal with this kind of issue but with this one it just sounds cliché and overused, unfortunately.

Song rating: 7.5/10

Track 5: Not Warriors

I don’t know if it’s just me who finds Not Warriors to be particularly obnoxious and annoying… it’s a more pop generated track compared to their other works. It’s sang on high-pitched voice for most of the song and, I don’t know, I don’t really like it, so let’s just move on, okay? 

Song rating: 4/10

Track 6: Lucky People

Halfway through the record we get to hear Lucky People, my absolute favourite, no doubt. Where do I even start! The best way I can think of explaining this song is what the band account tweeted once: THIS IS THE MOST HAPPY JASON MRAZ ASS SONG YOU EVER SAW. ALSO THE SADDEST. YOU DECIDE, I GUESS. Fairly accurate because the song is cheerful and upbeat, but the lyrics vaguely speak of being madly in love, only to end up “sitting, wishing, waiting for your call”. Also, I find it pretty refreshing for pop-punk bands to compose songs that are different than their usual stuff, that are acoustic and melodic, like 21 Questions on their debut album, that one it’s just  g e n i u s!

Song rating: 10/10

Track 7: Rare

I was about to rank it low, but I think you gotta give Rare a bit of a chance and listen to it a few times. By when it gets to the bridge and the beat drops right before the last chorus, I’m sure it will have you convinced. Still, it’s not a wow from me but also, not too shabby!

Song rating: 7.5/10

Track 8: TANTRUM

I must admit, this song hit me like a ton of bricks. I was not expecting something like it at all. TANTRUM is mainly Awsten venting about injustices, double standards, and unoriginality in the music industry and how these have affected him. I admire the way all elements correlate together so perfectly, the title of the song, the fact it’s written on uppercase letters, the words of the song and of course, the music. Screamy and angry. Again, it’s venturing a bit away from what they usually do, much like Little Violence on their first record so, very much appreciated :-)

Song rating: 9/10

Track 9: Crybaby

Reaching the end of Entertainment, I feel like we hit a small bump on the road with the last two songs. It’s not like they’re awful but they’re definitely the ones I’m least bothered about. It seems to me that one particular defect of Crybaby is the chorus. It repeats itself for way too long, to the point it becomes monotone. I just think something more – and better – could have been with that time.

Song rating: 6/10

Track 10: Sleep Alone

I believe that Sleep Alone sounds just like every other Waterparks song which is a bit disappointing; given it doesn’t show any effort towards evolvement and growth.

Song rating: 6/10

  Overall, it’s sad to admit this album was nowhere near as exceptional as Double Dare. Maybe the expectations were too big, maybe the bar was set too high, whatever the reason, the guys have failed to deliver this time, but it’s okay, they’re still baes! ♥

Album rating: 7,65/10

If you want to get into them or are interested to hear what they’re like, be sure to check out Double Dare first, and then perhaps give Entertainment a chance, who knows, you might love it.

[kalinara]

I really have to second @thaliadrogna‘s review of this last episode where she points out that this episode proves that the conflict with the Time Bureau is the least interesting part of the series, and is completely unnecessary.

Because it really is.  And it makes very little sense!

I can appreciate that the Legends don’t like the Time Bureau’s methods and that they want to do things on their own, but the Time Bureau really doesn’t HAVE to be their enemy.

The Time Bureau knew that the team had the Waverider at the end of Aruba-con, and were...if not okay with it, reasonably accepting of Rip’s determination that they could be useful.

The conflict in Freakshow still doesn’t make sense to me.  I can appreciate @crazyintheeast​‘s argument that Sara’s decision to fight Ava was actually tactically sound, but to my eyes it was still unnecessary.  Gary was observing the team but showed no apparent intent to interfere.  Ava herself didn’t appear until Gary missed his status report, and then acted strangely when he did report back (since Sara held him at gunpoint).  It might be that Ava would have appeared anyway, but that’s not really clear.  As it was, it seemed like an unnecessary escalation to the conflict.  (Which Ava didn’t help, of course, by threatening to take the ship away.  I sincerely doubt that Ava has any authority to do that.)

The conflict in Zari makes more sense to me.  I understand why Gary/Ava would want to restore time to exactly as it was before Kuasa arrived, which means returning Zari to police custody.  At the same time, I understand why (and agree with) the Legends wanting to oppose that.

But it annoys me how they treated Gary even before they met Zari.  THEY decided to interfere in a Time Bureau mission and “rescue” Gary (even though Kuasa was already gone when they arrived and Gary was unharmed).  Then they basically tried to guilt trip him everytime he tried to defend himself and his organization.  Ava didn’t help matters of course by going in there guns blazing.  (I don’t actually think Ava had any intention of killing the Waverider crew.  She didn’t have to stop at warning shots.  And I think, given the comparative sizes of the ships, it was a lot more likely Ava’s ship would have survived a collision when the Waverider didn’t.  But she definitely antagonized the situation.)  But at that point it was basically mutual ridiculousness.

It just seems so unnecessary.  (For both the team and Ava, who just seems completely obstinate and unreasonable at this point.)

I’m not saying that the crew needs to like the Time Bureau or agree with their methods.  They definitely do not have to like Rip or Ava.  (I would like them to stop being so mean to Gary, because that seems really unnecessary.  The dude is like a rabbit.)

But they do know Rip, and while he’s a liar and an asshole a LOT of the time, they ought to have a good idea by now of exactly how far Rip will go to try to save the world.  This is a guy who led the charge to blow up his own people, tried to fly a meteorite into a sun, took a time drive lobotomy to protect a spear, and even, amnesiac, basically charged into the lion’s den to save them.

And while Rip was an asshole in Aruba-Con, he did still greet them with some fondness, and didn’t fight them to keep the Waverider in the end.

So...if they think the Time Bureau is evil or corrupt.  If they think they’re being treated unfairly or Ava is being out of line...

Why don’t they contact Rip directly?  He seems to be in a position of authority at the Time Bureau.  (Especially if he’s negotiating treaties.)  And Ava has pretty much made it clear that, behind the scenes, he seems to be showing them a certain favoritism (telling her/the bureau that the Legends can fight their enemy, or being too “lenient”).  Based on the direct interaction we’ve seen so far, Rip outranks Ava at least.  So why not at least TRY to get him to rein her in?

At this point, I don’t see what the conflict with the Time Bureau brings to the table.  Why not just have the team talk to Rip?  Then Rip can pull Ava back and explain to the team that while he supports them, the Time Bureau can’t really be seen to help them on their missions (that way the crew continues to not have a safety net), and the show can focus on more interesting conflicts like this past episode.

We’ve seen how many anachronisms there are.  It’s perfectly reasonable to have the Time Bureau go one way, the Legends go another, and not have their paths meet again until it works for the story.