#but i promise i will return swinging with lore

[soulchronicity]

on my hands and knees, begging you, tell me everything about your cj chess au

anon you are my dearest friend for this however, i will not tell you everything, as i want there to be some surprises you discover through art later. but i can tell you the basics! okay so. heart mind and soul (otherwise known as juno apollo and atlas in this au) and just three fellas who are friends and roommates. only apollo and juno fight a lot because its mind and heart of course they do. harmonia (whole) is some god who lives in his own little pocket dimension who gets bored a lot. one day, somehow someway he witnesses the two fighting and goes "you know what? i think its time for a game of chess" because his pocket dimension is chess themed. hes very normal about chess, as am i. he meant to only drag juno and apollo in, however atlas was nearby trying to break up the fight so he also got dragged in. apollo is the black king, juno is the white queen (can you tell who the favourite is?), and atlas is a rook that can change between colours because hes technically a glitch in the game. atlas does his best to peacekeep and keep the other two from murdering each other. there are two ways to win: either the two resolve their issues or one of them is killed by the other. a checkmate ends the game for the day, as does one of the two getting taken off the board by a piece that isnt one of the others (it leaves them with injuries, but doesnt kill). all other pieces are like mannequins by the way. and they gain some sentience during the breaks between games (harmonia gave the three breaks because he isnt cruel, he knows mortals cant go on forever and need sleep and food and all that (though for a moment at the start he did forget)) and uhhh. i think thats all the background lore. oh wait no the king and queen have their own little castles to live in that sit on opposite ends of the board. atlas usually stays in junos because apollo prefers to be alone. and now i think thats all more to be found out later :)

[whatitshouldvebeen]

Johnny, Baby

Summary: Based on the lore release, this short is written from the perspective of Johnny as a toddler when his mom knocks on Nancy's door.

Word count: 970

Warnings: Johnny is a toddler and watches his mom die... So there's that

Mama’s left eye is fluffy and purple. She tells me it's okay, but daddy says it isn't. Daddy says mommy is a bitch. Daddy says he wishes we weren't his problem to deal with, that he'd be better off without deadweight like us.

Mama is crying, she takes my hand and I barely have time to grab my stuffed dog Blackie before she lifts me onto her hip and storms outside in a flurry of tears, refusing to look back when daddy yells, “Where the hell do you think you're goin’, dumb slut?!”

“Away from you!” She screams in return. The key to the beat-up old car forms an indent in her palm as she hurriedly buckles me into my car seat.

“Not with my son you ain't!” The angry rumble of my dad's baritone rattles in the back of my skull. I clutch Blackie tighter.

“Mama?” My lower lip trembles, fear reflected in my dark brown eyes.

Mama hurries into the front seat, slamming the creaky door closed and locking it. She turns on the car then looks back at me, her dark hair wild.

“It'll be okay, baby,” she says in a soft, soothing tone.

And I believe her, my nerves slowly untangling.

CRACK! The sound makes me jump in place. When I look up, the windshield is sprayed with a collection of delicate spiderwebs.

Daddy stands outside of the car, jiggling the handle. In his left hand, he holds a baseball bat. When the door fails to open, he reels back to hit the windshield again.

Mama slams on the gas, peeling out of the driveway. Daddy throws the baseball bat at us—it glances off the left rearview mirror, which now hangs by a wire.

Before now, I felt frozen, in a daze. But now, the feelings bowl me over. I scream and wail, and mama tries to help but I can't hear her over the blood rushing behind my little ears. It's a good thing Blackie isn't alive or I would be squeezing the life out of him right now.

“We'll find help baby, I promise, please Johnny stop crying,” she says, her own tears beginning to flow. She drives too quickly for someone half-blinded without any real direction, but she can't slow down. We aren't safe yet.

After a while, my tears subside to sniffles. Blackie is covered in tears and snot, but I cuddle him anyway.

“I'm lost, baby. We need to stop for directions,” mama says, pulling up in front of a beautiful house with rows of flowers.

“Mama!” I cry, holding out my chubby arms desperately. It took me so long to stop crying, mama doesn't want me to cry anymore. She reluctantly takes me from my car seat, and I cling to her so tightly she barely has to help hold me. Blackie dangles by a paw from my fist, swinging as we approach the front door and knock.

Almost instantly, as if she'd been watching us from the window, a woman with curled black hair and glasses answers.

“Lost, sugar? Wouldn't be the first to stumble up to my house,” she says.

“Yes ma’am. We just need directions, then we can get out of your hair.”

The woman's eyes dart from mama's purpled face to my still-red one. “Sure, sure. I can help you. Come on in!” She steps aside, her eyes glued to me as we enter. “I’m Nancy. And who is this little cutie?”

“His name is Johnny, I'm Judith. Nice to meet you,” mama says, but Nancy didn't seem to register her name. She's entirely engrossed in me, to the point where mama shifts me to her other side, trying to provide a barrier between her and I while looking around the house.

This visibly upsets Nancy, who gives mama a scowl she barely manages to conceal before mama looks back over to her as she finishes locking the complicated door lock. “Go on and sit down. Want some tea?” She asks, heading for the kitchen as mama takes a hesitant seat at the dining room table, me on her lap.

“We just need directions to the nearest hotel, no tea thank you,” she says, her leg bouncing anxiously beneath me.

Nancy comes back with a tray and two teacups. Mama raises her hand to wave Nancy's tea glass off, but instead Nancy pulls a knife from under the tray and slices her palm open.

Blood pours onto her pristine carpet, and I burst into tears.

“Gimme that baby and I might let you die quick!” Nancy hollers, lunging for me. Mama quickly turns me away, and when Nancy misses, mama jabs the car key between her knuckles deep into Nancy's left eye.

Nancy howls like a banshee, eye jelly running down her cheek. She starts swinging wildly, and Mama throws her chair back and stands, clutching me and backing away from Nancy.

“You get back here you stupid bitch! Ain't no way you can open that door lock!” Nancy screams, stumbling over the chair in her path.

“Johnny,” mama says, setting me down. I look up at her desperately, my entire body shaking. “Johnny baby, you have to hide. Someone will see our car and-”

Nancy’s hand reaches around mama’s shoulder, dragging a blade across her neck. A red streak follows the knife, and red rains down on me, splattering over my blue truck shirt and soaking Blackie even worse. Mama's eyes go glassy, and my little legs give out as I collapse to the floor.

“It’ll be okay, baby,” Nancy says, picking me up and cradling me against her chest.

And I don't believe her.

[sailorgundam308]

SPOILERS of BG3 Epilogue (Karlach’s, more specifically).

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So we learn that while in Avernus, Karlach found the location of Zariel’s infernal forge and some blueprints that might allow her to get a new engine or fix her current one.

This is awesome in itself, but I thought it was extra cool because this was so close to my headcanon and is neatly connecting to DnD lore about Avernus!

Zariel wasn’t the only Archdevil of Avernus. Before her, a devil called Bel was the Archdevil of that hell. Bel still lives and actually works for Zariel now - BUT he still schemes and patiently waits for a chance to reclaim his rule.

Do you know where Bel works now? The forge.

… >>

You see that, right??

“After being deposed, Bel made his home in an iron fortress carved out of a volcano. The bastion acted as a forge for Blood War weapons and armor and was protected by infernal legions and dark magic that divined intruders.”

“Bel oversaw the production of Blood War arms and armor while scheming to retake his throne after Zariel supplanted him.”

Both quotes from the Forgottten Realms wiki.

SO. Bel is the ‘owner’ of Zariel’s forge, and he doesn’t like her very much. In fact, he wants to depose her and is waiting for an opportunity to fuck her up. And Karlach is going to the forge to get her heart fixed. I always imagined in my head that Karlach and Bel would end up meeting and joining forces (temporarily) to take on Zariel - or at least take a swing at her. And what better swing than to get Karlach a new engine and let her loose on Zariel’s forces for a bit - or even at Zariel herself? Seems perfectly canon compliant to me! Plus, Bel is a devil that is known to honor his promises and one that sometimes doesn’t request a soul in exchange for a contract or deal - he often requires other types of contributions (kicking Zariel’s ass or sabotaging her efforts might fit the bill perfectly!).

If before I was inclined to headcanon this sort of deal with Bel to help Karlach, now I’m pretty much sure that is the path implied by the canon story. I can see it not being easy and Zariel lashing out but… as Astarion said to Karlach, her just never being able to return to Faerun “is not fair, not after everything we’ve been through”.

So, for me, this is what happens: Karlach and Astarion go to Avernus. She won’t burn, he won’t burn there. They fight and struggle, but pick on cues and plan to infiltrate the forge with the help of Flo. There they find Bel who proposes a deal to give Karlach a new, more powerful and Faerun-proof engine - in return to sabotaging Zariel. It’s rough, difficult, but they manage. She gets her engine. And then it’s time for Karlach to return the favor to her beloved vamp - to turn Faerun inside out in search for a way to get Astarion to be in the sun again!

[alicelufenia]

Had a couple weeks off due to life, but back with more Tavierra

I go back to the grove and release Sazza, since this will be my last chance.

Due to a bug with the Sit Out mod the game wasn't letting more than Tav and Karlach fight in the Worg Pens. I sorted it out later, it's a common hiccup.

Of course I knock out the goblin children, I'm not a monster.

Halsin flashbangs my drow ass right in the face, then we break the news to him about Kagha.

Does he?

We deal with Halsin's (somewhat) understandable but embarrassing prejudice.

Oh boy and this is the playthrough where I may even be romancing him! Fun first impression :D

At least he admits it may be unfair of him, and that we may "enlighten" him. Well y'see you're gonna love literally the next thing I do then cause-

But first we talk to Ragzlin, and as this is my first time playing a cleric, this scene can play out different by doing the Speak With Dead spell yourself! Not that Tav would need the scroll as she has the forbidden knowledge of Thay (what can I say she got curious)

I go deal with Gut first. I just have the other 3 active party members sneak in through the back entrance to her room, and with a Silence spell up and surrounded by all of us, she doesn't stand a chance.

We split the party into 2 groups. Tav, Astarion, Karlach and Lae'zel head to Minthara's office (and stealthily clear the hallway outside the Worg Pens) while Shadowheart, Gale and Wyll return for Halsin to go kill Ragzlin and the goblins gathered with him.

Bear time. Hopefully not the last time either.

We meet up with Sazza next to Minthara. I had already spoken to her without Sazza, so I was hoping there'd be a change with this scene, but it's the same as if you met her for the first time with Sazza. In my oc lore, Tav uses Sazza as cover for her "scouting" delay to find the grove.

I get Minthara to spare Sazza. I'm hoping to get her achievement this playthrough, otherwise I'll have to wait til the next one.

Haha what, slaughter the grove that's CRAZY, who would do that their first playthrough? Anyway

What follows was an hour and a half of misadventures as I tried to be cute by agreeing to raid the grove, and then as she's walking out, smacking her with a Tasha's Hideous Laughter, hoping to initiate combat with her rolling on the ground with Emma's insane laughter.

The game claimed Tasha's had a 30% chance to work. In reality it felt like 0.01%, as she kept passing the damn save each reload! (it's almost like Paladins are really good with saving throws, no idea how I'd know that) but are you ready for some quality bullshit?

At one point the combat log said she failed the roll, but she didn't actually get affected! It still treated her as if she'd saved successfully! What the hell game!

So in the end I just start the fight without the Tasha's opener, and beat her unconscious with Karlach's massive unarmed attack swings.

The way this works in the lore is that she merely gets dazed, and Tav's confliction over what to do leads to her sparing her, stripping Minthara of her weapons and leading the others to go join Shadowheart and the rest as they're finishing off Ragzlin.

By the time they're done with Ragzlin, they return to see if Minthara is still there, Tav entertaining thoughts of interrogating her, or trying to contact the dream visitor to see if there's anything they can do. But they're too late: Minthara's already snuck away. Karlach is uneasy about this, but Tav, having to improvise now, reassures her the grove won't come to harm.

By the way, look at the changes to the journal! Back in patch 5, this didn't say "defeated", it said "killed", even if you knocked them out.

THIS screenshot is from December! Notice the wording change. I wonder when this happened, I didn't do as extensive testing at patch 6, so I didn't notice.

After reporting to Halsin, Tav makes good on her promise that the grove will be safe. By leading the party through a secret passage in the ceiling back out to the camp where they proceed to KILL EVERY GOBLIN. Can't raid the grove without an army, yeah?

We use every drow's favorite trick, Darkness, to keep ourselves safe from all the ranged attacks and pick them off as they come to us. It's a total slaughter for the goblins.

And now the fate of Crusher in 3 screenshots

Tragic.

By the way, if you ever want to turn Zevlor's gift down cause you're a good person or whatever, you can still trade with him in the same dialogue and just buy the reward off him. Handy tip so you don't miss this unique helmet!

Everyone back at the grove is in a celebratory mood, except Tav doesn't feel at all like celebrating.

I'm gonna say "It was a hell full of blood and ash" was her exact in-character description of the experience.

At the party she's in such a dour mood despite the energy of the participants that she finds herself even chatting up Astarion.

Oh but that's where you're wrong Astarion! We killed a whole LOT more goblins than there were tieflings! Like 5 times as many! *sigh* and now we get to the heart of the matter and why she feels bad.

Must resist. Urge to. Reload. Not this. Run.

So yeah, Tav's drinking, and seeking distraction. And so is Astarion. Hmm. Yeah sure, fuck it.

And she did.

All sarcasm aside, I am able to appreciate the subtleties of Astarion's romance scene. He can't hide his uncomfortable expression when we say we want to lose ourselves in him. "I thought so." HNGGGG but I have a good reason for this, eventually.

The next morning I have a talk with Halsin, deciding we'll head through the mountain pass (I'm not done with Act 1 yet, but I do want to take care of that area first now that the time-sensitive quests are done)

But first, I make a new main save and then proceed to speedrun to Moonrise Towers. I drink a potion of invisibility to sneak Tav past the Death Shepherds and into act 2, then follow Kar'niss all the way to Moonrise, where we find

She's alright folks! :D And yes, I didn't loot her gear, just her weapons like I said. Y'all should know by now I would NEVER put Astarion in her armor, she's keeping all that!

Back to our main save, we continue to the encounter with the Gith at the mountain pass road, and continue onwards to Rosymorn Monastery.

Damn I just think Tavierra looks good in this shot, lookit my baby stare down a dragon!

Next is, *sigh* Lady Esther. I convince her to take the Owlbear egg, and then have Astarion pickpocket her inventory while Tav distracts with her bard playing. The classic pair! She's not usually one for robbing people, but she'll make an exception for racism.

Speaking of racism:

We explore the monastery, and I manage to find enough of the weapons to solve the Dawnmaster puzzle with just a bit of brute forcing it.

We arrive in the Creche, and I beeline it for why we're here so early:

The two pieces of gear Tav needed.

The lore here is that Tav and Astarion find the githyanki stash of plundered treasures from across Faerûn. Tav has little qualms with "liberating" the stolen goods, and once again distracts them while Astarion cleans out their inventory. He does nearly get caught, but he deceives his way out of it and gets away scot-free.

Now in possession of a stolen artifact dedicated to Corellon, Tav's personal quest hits the next step, as she wishes to seek the favor of the father of elves on this journey, a long shot considering he's basically responsible for the ancient dark elves being cursed to become drow. At least she's got several elven companions to consult, and thus while it's not his main deity, she begins discussing religion with Halsin.

One respec later and her build is now online.

Now that the goblin camp is done, my main stressor for this run is past. What was initially a struggle for survival is turning into a pilgrimage for our Chosen of Eilistraee. And soon-to-be Seeker of Corellon. This is definitely going to be a more religious and gods-focused playthrough than my first one. Next time I'll show off the builds for the rest of the companions, as I've done unique things with at least a few of them, and as the party hit level 6 on the way to the Creche, they're now established enough to show off.

[strafepanzer]

fangs | g.jaegerjaquez

chapter one: shit | chapter two (tba) | chapter three (tba)

▸ ▸ ▸ warnings: dark content, 18+! a/b/o stuff (pheromones, fangs, alpha-omega, animalistic tendencies), blood (a LOT), biting, drugs, gangs, fighting, (more to be added as chapters progress)

▸ ▸ ▸ wordcount: 3k+

▸ ▸ ▸ a/n: this has been in the works for a while but i finally have a bit of energy to put into it, so that's fun! also ive taken parts of omegaverse lore and made it my own, so if things get confusing, feel free to ask questions! thanks for reading!! ♡

“Shit,” he hisses, tongue running over the split in his lower lip. His glare intensifies as he shoots it over his shoulder, landing on the little turd shaking in his boots, wooden baseball bat held tight in two white-knuckled fists.

“I didn’t even do that! Y-you bit your lip with those freakish fricken fangs!” The kid argues, blue eyes wide with terror, that distinct childish whine caught in his throat.

“Right, so you swinging that bat at me had no impact on the state of my face at all?” He turns his body towards the boy, cracks his neck as he rolls his shoulders. “Sounds like a crock a’ shit, squirt.”

“Uncle will be mad if you hit me!” He reasons, knees knocking together.

“Oh, but you can hit me?” Grimmjow raises his brows, wiping the blood with a knuckle as he stalks towards the kid.

“You’re the gang’s Mad Dog! You’re supposed to be too good for me to hit!” He frowns, stepping back as the predator steps forward.

Grimmjow grins then, his hulking canines pressing uncomfortably into his lower lip, the one on the left shining with blood. “Maybe I wanted a reason to discipline the young master.”

“Jaegerjaquez,” Tousen appears out of nowhere, like usual. “Boss has a job for you.” Is all he says before turning to the kid. “You know how your mother feels about you using that bat for violence, young master.”

The kid’s pouting, obviously happy to have been spared, but upset that he’s being scolded and losing his babysitter-slash-impromptu-martial-arts-instructor all in one fell swoop.

“Where’s he want me?” Grimmjow straightens, rubs the sweat from his hands down the thighs of his faded blue jeans, re-pops the collar of his barely buttoned Hawaiian shirt. Tousen regards him coldly through the lenses of ridiculously priced glasses, as usual, like Grimmjow is worse than the dirt beneath his stupid black leather loafers.

“The usual place.” Tousen turns his nose up at Grimmjow, and gestures back to the kid. “You need to stop sneaking out of the house when Starrk falls asleep; let’s go.” He orders, heading towards the winding forest path that leads back to the main house.

“We were training.” The kid argues back, pouting. “Everyone always talks about how strong the Mad Dog is, and I’m gonna be stronger.”

“Strength isn’t necessarily how hard you hit, or how many bones you break, Kaiden. Remember that.” Tousen sends Grimmjow one last look before the pair disappear behind the yellowing Japanese Maples, the young master waving frantically and promising to return.

This makes Grimmjow grin, smirk elongating as he heads back into his shack, imagining how Aizen’s prissy bitch of a left hand man has to listen to the kid praise him. What makes the young master’s idolisation of him that much sweeter is the fact that the little brat hasn’t presented yet; Tousen can’t blame the kid on being affected by Grimmjow’s Ridiculously Potent Dominant Alpha Pheromones, has to accept that he just likes the way he is. Thinks he’s fucking cool.

Betas, as a rule, tend to harbour a little bit of hatred towards alphas or omegas, especially in their line of work, but Tousen takes the goddamn cake.

With a spring in his step, Grimmjow packs a duffel. His little house— if you can call it that— is a bit of a mess, so finding what he needs is a pain in the ass, but he manages. Ten year old Motorola Razr (in ice blue), wallet, and switchblade are all on his bed, still there from being dumped out early this morning when he got home from a job. His first aid kit, pheromone patches, and inhibitors are all in the stall he calls a bathroom, and— he checks the package— he’s running low on patches. The last thing on his mental list— his knuckle dusters— are in the kitchen sink, still caked in dried blood, but he throws them in the bag anyway.

He leaves his leather jacket and just opts for his keys; the summer’s been long and hot, and he loves the way the air feels on his skin as he speeds the streets of Karakura.

+

Ichimaru’s Ikeman Fantasy is a front that even the blind can see, yet it’s been untouched by the law for years. Grimmjow parks his bike in its usual spot, holds the duffle by the handle and tosses it over his shoulder, before strolling past Yammy and the other bouncers, and in through the front door.

Smells like easy omega in here.

“Afternoon, Jaegerjaquez!” Nel hollers, tits bouncing as she waves from her spot behind the bar. They never used to get along, but the years of living and working in close proximity forced them into a friendship of sorts. Now they dye each other’s hair.

“Nel,” he nods, duffle landing on the bar with a thud. “Aizen here?”

“‘Course he is,” she rolls her eyes good-naturedly. “He’s always here.”

“Like you.” He grins. “You’re part of the furniture, you know?”

“Yeah, yeah,” she sighs, nodding back towards the kitchen. “Someone’s gotta keep Nnoitra in place. I do miss you being here, though.” Her nose scrunches up. “All the new boys are boring.” There’s a bit of bite behind her bark, and usually that’s what he looks for in a woman, but she’s never affected him. He can’t get hard for other alphas; all part and parcel of being a dominant himself. Omegas or nothing.

“Maybe if I was better at lip service.” He shrugs, tossing his feline stare over his shoulder to sus out the place.

“Or if you were worse at brawling,” she leans on the bar, those too big breasts pushing up and together in a way that makes them look like they might pop out of her shirt. “They’ve started calling you The Grim around here, you know? You come and go, then someone shows up dead.”

“That’s dramatic; I don’t kill people.” Always.

“Keep your secrets, Jaegerjaquez, I don’t want them.” Nel shakes her head, perks up a bit when someone else comes in.

It’s too early to open, and Grimmjow has no idea who this girl is. She’s cute, nervous-looking. Undoubtedly omega with her candy-apple scent.

“You’re getting girls in here now?” He asks when the candy apple omega is escorted through the lounge and into the back rooms.

“Yeah, Gin’s wanting to expand with the beauties.” She whispers, leaning close. “But you know Aizen: don't fix it if it ain’t broke.”

“Fox face wants to bring girls in here?” Grimmjow balks, a little too loud. “To work?” He questions, voice dropping.

“Yeah, for the back room stuff.” Nel looks undoubtedly uncomfortable. The main draw for the club is that it’s catered to women; less violent outbursts, less brawling, less police attention.

“Huh, never would’a picked it.” Grimmjow sighs, brows raising. “Matsumoto’s surely against it.”

“Yeah, so’s Ai—“

“You’re here,” Aizen’s voice isn’t loud, but it's commanding. There’s a quiet cruelty there that keeps people on their toes, a suppressed dominance that he’s master at concealing. “Come, Grimmjow, I have a task for you.” He’s across the lounge, standing in front of his office, the door right next to the one the candy apple omega disappeared behind.

“Sure thing,” he nods, suddenly professional. He gives Nel one last look before grabbing his duffel and slinking off towards his boss— The Boss.

+

Aizen’s office is the epitome of old European money; velvet chaise, dark filigree wallpaper, gold accents, cherry stained hardwood. Grimmjow feels like a stray dog attempting domestication each time he stalks into the room, can’t bear to sit lest he destroy or dirty something. The Boss doesn’t even offer him a seat anymore, just places a lowball of whiskey in his hand and starts on the task at hand.

“There’s a small motorcycle gang that’s started to sell on our turf,” he says, opening a beige folder and tossing its contents on his desk. “Need you to rough ‘em up a bit before they get too big for their boots.”

“Kids?” Grimmjow scowls, picking up the pile of photos and tossing them back to the desk as he looks at them. They’re in their late teens to early twenties, with their black leather jackets and little white baggies. “You’re sending me to deal with kids?”

Aizen sighs and sits down in his polished leather chair, taking a sip of his own whiskey. “You’re right.” He nods, leaning over the table and picking up one of the photos Grimmjow’s tossed down. “Normally, I’d send Yammy, or even Tousen— if I wanted to deal with it diplomatically— but this kid,” he holds up the picture of a blonde, his head tossed back in laughter, canine-like fangs protruding out of his mouth. “Is a dominant like you.”

He takes the photo from Aizen and looks it over, then goes through the ones he tossed and picks up a clearer one of his face. “He’s not even wearing patches,” Grimmjow shakes his head, glaring at the glossy photos. “Just swinging his dick around like he owns the place.”

“Exactly,” Aizen stands and gathers the photos, holds his hand out for the ones Grimmjow’s still scrutinising. “I’ll send the lot of them to your phone.”

“Boss, I can’t see shit on my phone,”

“I told you to buy a new one.”

“Why fix something if it ain’t broke? Besides, I got the little fucker’s face memorised, don’t sweat it.”

“They hang around by the train station at the end of the street most nights. Rough them up a bit, feel free to knock some teeth out.” Aizen smiles then, golden eyes shining as he shows his own fangs.

To the naked eye, he looks like a beta or omega with his average-sized canines, but Grimmjow knows better. Knows he’s had them filed down; that he does so on the regular.

Dangerous fucker he is.

+

After sticking around for a couple more drinks with Nel, he pockets a knuckleduster and leaves her with the rest of his shit. "I'll come get it when I'm done with the job." He drawls, tapping his scent blockers to test their saying power— excellent, considering he replaced them after Aizen dismissed him.

"Don't kill too many, Grim." She calls a little too loud, smiles a little too broadly. It draws attention from the other patrons, the few older women sitting at and around the bar suddenly interested in him.

"Don't lose my shit." He glares back, fang grinding on the still fresh wound from this morning when he tenses his jaw.

Undeterred, she waves him off with a smile, before undoubtedly weaving tales about his murderous escapades to the nosey hags asking too many questions. He doesn’t stick around long enough to confirm or deny his own suspicions.

The damp heat of early summer clings to Grimmjow like a second skin; seeing others unaffected— still dressing in light layers and boots, some with scarves and gloves— makes him feel a little claustrophobic, even outside in the streets. He knows it’s him who’s wrong, knows his medication has side effects and his second gender has drawbacks as well as perks, but still it’s enough to plaster that scowl to his face. At least it makes people avoid him, gives him a little bubble when it’s crowded, even in rush hour.

Hands shoved deep in his pockets, that glare is set straight ahead. He’s on a mission, and it’s something he’s not too happy about. Sure, he’s used to cleaning up Aizen’s messes, used to brawling, bleeding, biting, and bitching; but dealing with pups never ends well. These kids probably think they’re kings, think that their blonde ringleader is gonna make them rich or famous, or both.

Probably both.

Flashing fangs like that around here, though… that’s gonna get you killed.

Grimmjow’s nothing if not morally grey, however, so seeing the little posse down an alley on the way to his destination brings a rush of excitement. The sooner he can get this over with, the better.

“Oi,” he calls, entering the alley. “Heard you’re selling.”

“Who’s askin’?” One steps away from the wall— not the blonde— and tilts his chin up at Grimmjow. It takes all the willpower in the world not to match that snarl with one of his own, but he just shrugs and tries to act innocent, keeps his shoulders hunched so he seems smaller than his six-four frame.

“Just some guy,” he drawls, keeping his fangs concealed. “Why, you discriminate?”

The kid snarls at him again, infuriated, “Discrimin—”

“Cool it, Tetsu,” the blonde finally steps forward, and his pheromones are no joke. It’s been a hot minute since Grimmjow’s come across a dominant who doesn’t conceal what he is, and he has to physically stop the warning growl that wants to vibrate up his throat. “This old man just needs a hit, don’tcha grandpa?” He grins, condescending lilt to his brow.

“Nah, you got me all wrong, kiddo,” Grimmjow stands tall— taller than the blonde by at least five inches— and cracks his knuckles, apathetic grin turned evil. “I just need to relay a message to you little fuckers about who’s turf you’re selling on.”

The blonde postures, baring his fangs as his pupils blow wide, “Bring it on, old man!” He yells, pheromones turning the alley sour and crippling his friends.

Grimmjow says nothing, just mirrors the young alpha, and roars.

His pals throw up, one passes out, and the blonde’s pupils revert before his fight or flight kicks in, and he launches himself at Grimmjow. He knows the fight would be over if he just removed his scent patches, but where’s the fun in that? What kind of Grim Reaper would he be if he let it end at that?

Blondie lands a hit to Grimmjow’s jaw, and he feels it crack his bone. Adrenaline and anger mask the pain, and in an instant he’s above the kid, landing blow after blow after blow to his face with his bare knuckles, colouring his face crimson in a matter of seconds.

“Old man?” Grimmjow grunts sarcastically, the adrenaline subsiding with each moment of non-resistance. “This old man better not see you on this side of the tracks with intent to sell again, or I’ll rip those useless canines straight outta your face, got it?” He finishes, holding the blonde up by the front of his bloodied leather jacket and glaring down at his swollen, weepy face. Blondie can only groan in pain before going limp in Grimmjow’s grasp.

He drops him to the cement and glances up at the rest of the gang. With both alphas done with their brawl, the pheromones in the air have thinned, and the rest of the kids are in the process of regaining their composure.

“I fucking mean it,” Grimmjow continues with his warning. “I know you think you’re fucking invinci—”

He’s frozen by a sharp stinging sensation in the side of his neck, and when he swipes at it, something small, cylindrical, and plastic hits the ground next to his knee and rolls away from him.

A syringe.

They’ve drugged him.

“Run!” Someone screams from behind him, lurching with speed and strength Grimmjow knows wouldn’t be possible from anyone other than another dominant alpha. He grabs for Blondie, tosses his limp body over his shoulder and takes off down the alley as the rest of the gang scatters.

Grimmjow stumbles as he attempts to give chase, his vision swimming and heart pounding. He stops and crouches there in the alley behind a dumpster, closing his eyes and trying his goddamn hardest to regulate himself, to pinpoint the problem. His limbs are fine, and there’s no numbness, so that’s a plus, but he’s dizzy as all hell, and—

Slap.

He opens his eyes to see one of his scent blockers— a shriveled-looking skin-toned bandaid— lying there on the cement like it’d been used more than a few times. But he knows that’s not the case, knows that was a brand new fucking blocker and that it should’ve lasted him until at least tomorrow morning even if he wanted to sleep with it on.

He reaches for the one at the other side of his neck, and that one, too, slides off, looking a little more than worse for wear.

His pheromones have sweat the patches off.

This hasn’t happened to Grimmjow since he was going through goddamn puberty and the doctors couldn’t find the right dosage of inhibitors for him. He’s early thirties now, has been on the same goddamn pills since, and has never missed a dose. If there’s one thing Grimmjow cannot fucking stand, it’s an alpha who can’t control his fucking ruts.

And now he’s one of them.

Those shifty little fuckers have thrown him into rut.

“Motherfuckers!” He roars, knuckles meeting cement out of pure frustration, the pain that’s supposed to come with maiming oneself simply not present.

Grimmjow gets up and braces himself against the wall, breathing heavily and glancing between the mouth of the alley and the direction in which those little shits ran off. It’d be absolutely insane for them to want to stick around and try jump him, especially considering Blondie wasn’t using blockers, so there’s no doubt the end of the alley isn’t a completely dead end. Heading towards the street would only end in mayhem, so he stumbles deeper into the alley, using the brick wall for support when the cramping takes over and he needs a moment to breathe.

Fuck, he’s forgotten how this felt; forgotten just how base he goes when his hormones are running rampant, forgot how primal he is. He’s hungry. For food, for sex, for a good fucking fight.

His cock aches.

Still, he fights it. He’s not completely gone yet, but he can feel it pulling at him, irritating him, can feel it tickling his brain like a loose thread; one tug of it, and he’ll be feral. He’s exhausted, fighting the urge to pull the string, finds himself panting as he clutches at the spray paint covered brick with a bloodied hand, sweat dripping into his eyes, plastering powder blue hair to his forehead.

He briefly wonders if Aizen knew that they had this little ace up their sleeve, before deciding— with a baleful chuckle he didn’t know he still had in him— that he doesn’t even wanna know.

The last thing he sees before the world goes black is his own reflection in a shiny metal baseball bat

[operationslipperypuppet]

top 5 naddpod arcs!

Goddamn this is so hard. Thanks I hate it!

This won’t include any Eldermourne simply because it doesn’t have arcs the same way the bahumia campaigns do. And so I don’t do a top 30.

(Reverse order again but also don’t take the numbers to really mean anything)

I’m not gonna explain it like I will the actual top 5 but 6 is the chosen saga. You get it.

5. Shadowfell Saga. I have a genuine thesis of sorts that this arc (particularly the Grimhawk portion but realistically the whole thing) altered the course of the podcast. It’s a switch to the endgame which helps but you can nearly feel a difference in the way Emily, Jake, and Caldwell play when this is over. And it rules. So it makes the list.

4. Hellfire Chronicles. Obliterates the podcast. Some of the craziest shit to happen. Some of Murph’s most ambitious encounters. Return of old friends. Devastating losses. One of the harshest ways the war could go into full swing. Beautiful shit.

3. Tales from the Crick. Shapes NADDPod in a very real way. Lays intense groundwork that later leads into some of the most beautiful and powerful moments. Defines the PCs as characters in ways you don’t expect when you encounter it the first time. Plus it intros Jolene the fucking Green and is Balnor’s first arc so you have to give it so much respect.

2. Legends of Irondeep. Maybe I’m a biased Hardwon girlie. Maybe this included some insane and intense character growth that Calder’s absence demanded. It also threw insane lore, helped Sol discover the root of the clone issue, and brought Jaina back to us. Earth shattering arc. I’ll never recover from Lord Ultrus as an episode. And I don’t want to.

1. The Dragon Elf Chronicles. Holy shit. This arc is fr banger after banger. Not only are there some gorgeous plot lines (the Glen reveal, the fucking beast lands) but it also shows that Moonshine was successful in her quest to bring dragons back to the skies of bahumia. She fulfilled the promise. It also includes the return to the crick, the Super Bowl of dnd encounters (king of dragons you will always be famous), and it ends with Crown of Dreams. One of the best arcs to ever and I mean that.

ask me my top 5 anything

[myinventoryisfull]

I did read your "Loose in Maldraxxus" one shots about the thalix ship...and the first chapter made me question things....would Xandria ever try to make Thales return to Bastion? Demand he gets his eyes back so he can return to the path (before the kyrians realize the path they followed had its cracks and can be made better during the campaign)?

I dont see her as cruel, but her trying to take him could make things worse. Also, what about the kyrian construct? Of course they cant return home, and I doubt Thales would leave them...and how would Mevix react when he finds out Thales is being ordered to return "home"?

So here's the thing; I think that, outside of some extremely lore breaking circumstances (like Kyrestia being evil and in league with the Jailor), I think Thales would willingly chose to return to Bastion every time.

It doesn't matter if he and Mevix confess their feelings and pursue a relationship; Thales is a Kyrian. Self-sacrifice in the name of duty is baked into who he is as a person. We may not know a dang thing about who he was before Bastion, but we can infer that he willingly gave up his True Name and True Race to become a Kyrian. He was in the process of willingly giving up his memories because he believes that surrendering every piece of himself is worth doing in the name of service to others.

I believe that to Thales, personal is not the same as important, and his feelings for Mevix are just that. Personal. To stay with Mevix would be selfish, and on top of that... Does he love Mevix more than he loves Bastion? More than he loves his fellow Kyrians? More than he loves himself? To stay would be a denial of everything he knows himself to be, and further more, who would he become if he stayed? The path to ascension provides a clearly defined sense of purpose that nothing in Maldraxxus could match.

Bastion is a realm of order, peace, and growth.

Maldraxxus is full of chaos, violence, and death.

To love an individual is one thing. To love an entire realm is another.

And Mevix would understand.

How could he not? He's a soldier. Just because his past keeps him strong doesn't mean he doesn't understand what it means to sacrifice something dear in the name of duty. How many lovers has he had in the past? How many has he had to watch march to their deaths, knowing that what they did was important, and right, and necessary? He too would march to his death if it meant that others could live and thrive, and he would do so with enthusiasm and the resolve to take down as many opponents with him as he could.

And maybe it hurts more to watch Thales walk away because Mevix knows he's still alive. He's still out there, just out of reach, but what else can he do? He can't stop Thales - that would hurt their relationship even worse than letting go would. He can't throw himself at Thales' feet and beg him to change his mind - it wouldn't work and he'd only be cutting himself deeper.

He can, however, promise to take care of the Construct. To send regular letters letting Thales know how they're doing, and share some of the gossip that flies around Maldraxxus.

Maybe, if he puts in the time to do some research and form a credible argument, he could perhaps even convince the Archon to consider something like... an ambassadorship. Something like an exchange of volunteers who wish to learn about the other Realms and strengthen formal bonds. Or at the very least, surely a Baron has the political clout necessary to make the occasional visit to Bastion.

On official business, of course. If he swings by the Temple of the Courage on his way in or out, well... He is Maldraxxi. Obviously he would be interested in seeing how the Kyrian fight and train. Because here's the thing-

While the intro area to Bastion only mentions Bearers, Watchers, and Collectors, I think there is at least one other option.

Look at this statue from the Temple of Courage:

What do you see? To me, the sword and the shield stand out, as does the plate-like armor. This is not the statue of a Kyrian whose job is to watch over souls or bring them to Oribos for judgment.

This is the statue of a fighter. A defender.

And strategically speaking, attacking the place where Bastion's fortifications are strongest is a sound tactic, especially given how much the element of surprise worked in their favor. If they can rob Bastion of their defense force with the first swing, then invading the rest of the realm will be much, much easier.

Thales doesn't need his eyes to fight. After Maldraxxus, even blind he probably gives the Ascended a run for their money.

He can hear their wings flapping, after all.

And it's in a Secutor's nature to give chase.

[greatqueenanna]

1/5/24

Happy New Year Everyone!! Here's to more Frozen Content in the coming year!

———

Introduction

So, I want to start out by saying that I know I have been a little quiet lately and haven't had any updates on posts. I had caught COVID and was fighting it for a while feeling horrible. I still feel pretty bad, but I'm slowly trying to come back. I apologize for my slow return and low activity, but I promise that I'll be back swinging with new analyses, tid-bits, and other projects very soon!

———

Arendelle Archives

I am ecstatic to announce that, as you've already seen, Arendelle Archives is officially setting up a blog here on Tumblr. It will be launching January 6th. Keep an eye out, and be sure to follow!

Also, just had to post this for shameless advertising hehehe.

With Frozen 3 now on the way, YouTube channel Geekritique revisits the story of Frozen as it stands so far in an expansive timeline video that compiles lore established across the movies, animated shorts, and tie-in books to create a detailed history of Arendelle.With the aid of dedicated fan group Arendelle Archives, the video begins with the grand designs of King Runeard (Jeremy Sisto), the shameful conflicts with Northuldra over the dam, Anna(Kristen Bell) and Elsa's troubled childhood, and the deaths of Agnarr (Alfred Molina) and Iduna (Evan Rachel Wood) that would lead into the original movie. The timeline takes into account the events of Joe Caramagna's comics that bridge the gap between each movie, as well as the novels Dangerous Secrets: The Story of Iduna and Agnarr, Forest of Shadows, and Polar Nights: Cast Into Darkness. - Nathan Graham-Lowery - Screenrant

———

Upcoming Analysis

Frozen Canon Talk - Fifth Edition - Arendelle Archives

What Came Before Part 2 - Previous Versions of Frozen 2 

All is Found: A Frozen Anthology - Review

Lost Legends: The Fixer Upper - Review

Tid-Bits #9 - Elsa’s Apology and Writing Good Dialogue

———

Poll Question

As with all of my recent updates, it’s time for the next poll question to my super vague F3 post. As with the previous update, I will also provide the results of the previous polls, with my answers as well.

———

Other Featured Blogs

@arendelle-archives - A fan-project exploring, researching and analyzing the history, geography and lore of the Frozenverse.

@gqa-lite - GQA side blog for more random, opinionated, and personal posts.

@gqa-archive - GQA archive of all my analyses without any extra content.

[limetameta]

I finished up more fics so I had to edit the MC reading guide:

Metallic Crimson, otherwise known as the Kimblee Never Went to Prison AU that I have been thinking non-stop about daily has many side stories. 16 side stories and 1 main story as of 5th of March 2023!

Some people have asked me about the best reading way lore-wise and I have decided to help!

The reason why these side stories exist is because if I put all of this in the main story line we'd never get anywhere. So to avoid those unnecessary flashbacks you can just hop here and read a fleshed out story for your own enjoyment.

Now what this means is that I have cursed myself with them now because there are a lot and it really does feel like the MCU (Metallic Crimson Universe) has expanded greatly lmao.

Reading guide under the cut:

What do these colours mean, limeta?

RED: LORE, MAIN STORYLINE IMPORTANT, WORLD BUILDING (ALL RED- ALL IMPORTANT; HALF RED - IMPORTANT FOR MAIN STORYLINE AND GIVES U AN EDGE TO SPOT EASTER EGGS; VERY LITTLE RED - YOU'LL GET LIKE A JOKE LATER DOWN THE MAIN STORYLINE BECAUSE YOU READ THIS)

PURPLE: Kimbliza *hearts* same logic for the above little purple little kimbliza lots of purple lots of kimbliza moments etc.

GREY: It doesn't matter if you read it or don't because it doesn't have any significant impact on the MC main storyline (except Elicia which is set after the Promised Day and carries storyline spoilers that are vague but are still spoilers of some kind)

READING ORDER:

You start with METALLIC CRIMSON always, even though it opens In Medias Res. That's the main story and if you don't like the premise then you don't have to read the other side stories at all. But if this premise does tickle your fancy you can move on to the next tier:

THE MUST READS:

Central City Stroll - clues for Kimblee's identity which is a mystery in MC and pretty important for the Kimbliza development.

Swinging Hips and Fists is BOLDED because reading this one not only gives you Amestris lore, but also gives you very important Kimblee family lore.

Maes Hughes and His Onions explains how and why Kimblee is in this cursed friend group of Maes Riza and Roy.

The Alcoholic story is bite sized so after you finish reading Maes Hughes and his Onions hop on and read this one because you get more character building for Maes and Kimblee's relationship. Gives you big pay off later in MC.

Then the lesser MUST READS but STILL A MUST READ:

It's not illegal if you don't get caught is a Kimblee parents story so honestly if you don't read that before chapter 13 you'll be a bit out of the loop and won't be able to point at your screen in glee when something happens. Also homunculi lore ahoy.

The Rebecca story - (ch1 is super important for riza's characterization; ch2 is very cringy because it's all basically a drunk tale but it helps give you a picture of what kimblee was dealing with after the war mental (un)health wise after he returned the ph stone and realised he'd fucked up *snaps fingers*, plus rebecca is wild; ch3 should be read before MC chapter 13 because tbh if you have that lore going into MC ch13 you're going to laugh at a Rebecca Solf interaction, but it's like if you don't read it you'll get it eventually)

Academy Anecdotes is important for Solf's name troubles in the Military - clues for his identity - ties in with Central City Stroll.

THE SECONDARY READS:

Weird Wild West story - Kimblee background lore, but since it's a WIP as of now it's only a read tier and not a must read tier.

Nobody likes Parades - explains why Edward isn't terrified of Kimblee

Heat Wave - heat wave and master class actually set up a joke where mustang has accidentally almost killed kimblee twice and for mc that's gonna be hectic because oh golly third time's the charm, right?

Master Class/Psych Eval - it's a WIP so it's not a Must Read but this fic is pretty important because it does have Kimblee family lore planned for it. Also Kimbliza *hearts*

IF YOU DON'T READ YOU WON'T MISS MC LORE:

Fort Briggs story - tbh all you need to know is that a joke started that nobody will call you a whore in Briggs for flirting desperately, but they will call you a horologist. Don't need to read until we actually get to the BRIGGS arc in MC proper.

12 year old story - Edward's a little menace and not scared of Kimblee anymore.

Tales of Amestris - ch2 is Riza important, ch3 is greed important, ch4 is maes, roy, gracia and olivier mira important, ch5 is solf important

Our ancestors didn't die for this - this is crack. this is so much crack and craic.

Spiders Elicia - set after MC and spoilery for MC because I am KEEPING it as VAGUE as possible - did Kimblee die? Did he not die? Did he transform into an opera singer and go into the wild to live with his musically inclined kind? We just don't know. Well I do but I'm not telling you.

[fel-temptation]

Describe a significant relationship in your character's life and how it has influenced them. I want to kno the tea

OC Questions

Let’s talk about Korrinths brother, then. 😇

Korrinth almost never ever mentions the fact that she has a twin brother that she grew up with, who was a very big part of her life, with whom she studied magic and was largely her best friend. They often pushed each other in their magical studies and formed a lighthearted rivalry to that end, though even so they would still always lend a hand when asked. Long story short, they were pretty close and enriched each others lives.

Flash forward to a few years prior to becoming an Illidari, the pair were doing field research and decided to check out some nearby cursed ruins that your average villager would be superstitious about. Another long story short; they found a secret passageway that led to an anti-chamber that looked like a warlock hovel. Looting the place and taking one (1) very ominous looking book.

As weeks went by that book began to reach out mentally to each twin respectively, coaxing them to use it, to learn from it, promising them both all the knowledge they desired. Korrinth was immediately skeptical of the talking book, but her brother Relivastus was not. He convinced Korrinth not to turn the artifact over to the Kirin Tor, and instead began secretly reading from the book when nobody was looking.

This cursed book corrupted Relivastus down to the core, culminating in him sacrificing their parents, and other villagers in the surrounding area that they lived, in a ritual that bound his body and soul with fel energy. (There’s a lot more lore on that but that’s a whole other…. Long story.)

Korrinth, now devastated, hunted her brother from one corner of Azeroth to the next. Finally cornering him in Feralas while he was looking for an artifact. She was able to imprison him with the help of her runic specialization. Afterwards, distraught, Korrinth vowed to find a way to return him to normal and save his soul. That is what led her to the Sunfury, and then to Outland, where she was convinced to become an Illidari in her pursuit of trying to find a cure for her brother. More or less that was the only reason she became an Illidari.

Just for fun here’s where I got with that story- unbeknownst to her at the time, when she became Illidari, the arcane magic she had used to jail her brother ceased to function properly, and then she was imprisoned for *insert time frame here*. When she awoke the war with the Legion was in full swing, and she continued to fight instead of her original goal. So she didn’t actually find out he had been on the lose for a long time.

Now, a lot of time has passed, and the leads on her brothers locations have all ran dry. While she hasn’t entirely given up on her goal, she is keenly aware that she has made little to no progress while her brother is out there doing gods know what.

Anyways that’s Korrinths origin story. Consider the tea spilled ☕️ @mothervvoid ! Also @tired-space-crow asked this one as well!

[strangermask]

so does the human that sai married have any lore?

Yes, while mostly simple and still development, yes

Jiang Fangrun lives in a small quaint village with her father, mother, and two brothers. Her father and brothers run the family’s blacksmith while she and her mother make clothes. Fangrun, though, doesn’t like making clothes and wishes to be a blacksmith. However, due to being a girl and the time period she’s in, she can’t. At least at first. She was able to find some leeway through an agreement.

She can join the blacksmith business on two conditions: cover her face whenever she’s working and find a man to marry. Covering her face while doing blacksmith stuff? That’s doable. Finding a man to marry? Ehhhhh, a lil harder. But she’ll try her best. (Why is it harder you may ask? Well, due to beauty standards at the time. She got freckles)

Then comes the day when the shop gets visited by the First Elemental Masters. Genjistu, First Elemental Master of Reality, advised recruiting a blacksmith for the journey in the serpentine lands. Currently, only Fangrun and her parents are home. Her brothers were out to sell their weapons in different towns. The father was sick and unable to travel, but the only option is… Fangrun. Her parents are against this because: A. They don’t want their daughter out in dangerous territory and B. This could compromise their business.

When found out why it could compromise their business, Sai (being raised were men and women are equal in strength and jobs) sees no problem and promises protection. It took Yoshimochi rewarding them handsomely for Fangrun’s participation that she finally gets permission to go. So they head off to the serpentine lands together.

Here comes how Sai knew he was in love. Fangrun notices the golden weapons and ask if she could see them. When questioned why, she speculates that something seems off about them. Sai, trusting the words of a blacksmith, hands her his sword. And she immediately starts swinging it around, causing immense panic throughout the group. After that, she then goes on about how poorly crafted the sword was made. When she asks who made it, she gets embarrassed upon finding out she was insulting the First Spinjitzu Master.

Now Sai, when he first saw Fangrun, felt a crush. He thought it was nothing and just a flicker of his heart. But when he saw Fangrun do this, he went: “Yep, I’m in love with this girl.”

We follow along the FangBlade arc. Fangrun (+Sai) is the first to make magical weapons, creating the Fang Blades and the Twin Venom Swords. The two bond and talk about feeling like the black sheep. (Wanna say now this arc is still in development, so I’m gonna do my best to make this less love focus and more adventure focus for Fangrun. I don’t wanna leave her as just “the love interest”, I wanna make her a character ppl can enjoy and love.)

When the journey is over, Fangrun returns home with the First Masters. Her brothers have returned, and her whole family hugs her. Yoshimochi rewards the money and Sai leaves her with a gift before they leave. The Fang Blades were left in the serpentine lands, but he gives the Twin Venom Swords to Fangrun. When she asks why, he answers with: “it would be a sin to take away a blacksmith’s most greatest creations. And I have trust in you to take great care of these.”

And after that, the two keep contact.

Again, still developing the characters and story, so this is everything lore wise for her so far. Thank you for the question!

[denimbex1986]

'...The Toymaker will take center stage in the 60th anniversary's third special, "The Giggle," where Neil Patrick Harris will take on the role and unleash the villain's full power on Earth.

With The Toymaker set to return as part of Doctor Who's 60th-anniversary storyline, Davies has opened up to SFX Magazine about why he selected the villain as a main antagonist for the milestone celebrations. The showrunner explained that he enjoyed writing The Toymaker for his balance of intimidating and humorous moments, seeing that the character was a figure that could easily be understood by audiences unfamiliar with the older continuity of the classic era while promising that the story would be rewarding to existing viewers. Check out Davies' full explanation below:

My lord, one of the most exciting days of my writing life was writing page one of "The Giggle" script, when I realized how brilliant The Toymaker was. I thought he'd be a good villain, that I'd have a laugh with him. I started writing the script and thought "This is the best villain ever created." So powerful. So funny. So dangerous. I love him! Obviously, that was written before the streamer was decided. Bear in mind, a lot of this went into production. It could have been Netflix, it could have been Amazon. It could have been anyone - You could say any name there that we went to. It's our job to go to every streamer in the world. All of them were very interested. So I'm writing this knowing that no matter where it went out it would go to a bigger audience - So do you have to explain who the Toymaker is? I've got to say, in a science fiction setting, a great cosmic villain called the Toymaker played by a big star kind of makes sense anyway. Spier-Man could swing into an apartment tomorrow and meet the Toymaker, and you'd go "Oh,it's that kind of villain." So he makes sense enormously. There's a flashback. Let's say it. There is a flashback to Michael Gough, which is wonderful. It's funny, when I handed in that script my agent went "Ooh, I remember the Toymaker, played by Michael Gough." So there's a very powerful memory of him. She's not a science fiction fan at all. So where we thought there'd be possibly resistance to old characters and old continuity and adventures, there's been none. As long as there's some nice clarity to it. They will ask "Who's this? Who's that?" But they know equally that fans will come on board for that. It's been lovely. It's been really lovely.

Why Doctor Who Took 57 Years To Revisit The Toymaker

While The Toymaker took 57 years to return to television screens, there had been attempts to bring the villain much sooner and fulfill the First Doctor's prophecy from "The Celestial Toymaker." Colin Baker's Sixth Doctor was originally set to face the being in the classic era's season 23 episode, "The Nightmare Fair,"...However, with a change in format and a lengthy hiatus, the story was never produced for the television series.

As such, The Toymaker has returned across Doctor Who's expanded media, showcasing his power in comics, novels, and audio dramas...With the 60th-anniversary also adapting Beep the Meep (Miriam Margolyes) to screen and the Toymaker returning to a toyshop, "The Giggle" could similarly be inspired by these off-screen encounters.

While other classic foes are more recognizable to general audiences, The Toymaker is one of the Doctor's most powerful classic enemies due to his reality-warping abilities that even left the First Doctor trapped. Pulling from the show's long history can be difficult due to wanting a striking balance between respecting lore and being accessible to newcomers, but Davies took that into account during the writing process. As such, "The Giggle" will be a worthy reintroduction for one of Doctor Who's oldest, most powerful villains.'

[hiraethhh-h]

healing process

a familiar face comes to escort you backstage before the ritual. you assume it’d be another normal performance, so you spend a bit of time with terzo. unfortunately, it was a fleeting moment.

warnings: spoilers for ghost lore

pairings: papa III x gn!reader, platonic!oc x gn!reader

notes: angst w/o comfort bc im in a silly goofy mood :)

wc: 1.4k

you sat at your wooden vanity, adjusting your outfit and brushing out any visible wrinkles. it was another ritual night, one you were particularly excited to attend because terzo said he’d be playing one of your favorites. you could only wonder which one.

giving yourself another once over, you turned to add any accessories to your outfit, only to hear a knock come from your door. “papa has requested your presence.” a muffled voice called. you frowned slightly, glancing at the clock on your wall. had you really lost track of time? clearing your throat, you called out, “give me a minute!” before standing and grabbing your shoes and slipping them on. 

upon opening the door, you were met with a familiar masked-face, one that had two patches on both sides. “you look ravenous.” snare cooed, her tail idly swinging. you rolled your eyes with a small smile, “shouldn’t you put that away?” you gestured to snare’s appendage, the ghoulette lightly smacking your arm with it in return. “yeah, but i like to have a bit of a breather before rituals. staying in my glamored form for too long makes me antsy.” snare shrugged. you shut the door behind you, beginning to walk side by side down the hallway. “even after all this time?” you tilted your head, glancing at your taller companion. “hell yeah! i’d explain it but we’re kinda pressed for time.” she chuckled.

together you passed through hall after hall making small talk. Eventually you heard the chatter of people beyond a door. snare led you to a backdoor, waving at the guards. you gave the man and woman a small smile, the two letting you pass once they recognized snare. “well, this is where we part ways my friend.” snare turned to you. despite not being able to see her face, you could feel her smile beneath her mask. you shook your head, letting snare pull you into a bear hug. you wrapped your arms around her waist, feeling that her body temperature was on par with a normal human’s. “have fun shredding up there.” you murmured. a soft chuckle left your lips upon feeling snare give you a small squeeze, “you know i will.” she replied.

the sound of a clearing throat drew you two apart, snare glancing over your shoulder. “amore.” you turned around at the familiar voice, eyes brimming with excitement. “terzo!” with rushed steps, you slung your arms around his neck and pulled him down to press a kiss to the shell of his ear. terzo gave a low chuckle, snaking his arms around your waist. “you seem eager.” he hummed, pulling away to look at you. “well, you did promise to play one of my favorite songs.” you smiled. the satanic pope gave a soft laugh, “i did, didn’t i?” he smiled. terzo gently ghosted his knuckle over your cheek, the two of you holding each other’s gazes.

“papa, two minutes till showtime!” snare called from down the hall. she tapped her tail against one of the metal beams on stage, producing a ringing sound. terzo let out a soft sigh, slowly pulling away from you. “i look forward to seeing you in the crowd tonight, 

il mio fiore.” terzo gently brushed past you, striding towards the curtain at the far end of the hall.

you were quick to make your way from backstage, mingling with the crowd. laughter left your lips as you greeted a few familiar faces, the chatter lively and uplifting. soon enough, the lights began to dim, people cheering once fog began to roll over the stage. you turned and watched with hopeful eyes, the room blacking out completely before flashing back on. terzo and the ghouls now stood on stage, the room filling with loud cheering once more as they began to play the opening song. as always, the ritual never made you feel so alive. “alright, alright,” terzo called, stepping forward on the stage. the spotlights zeroed in on him, the satanic pope raising his free hand before shouting, “everyone feeling good tonight?” the crowd roared in agreement, you giving your own cheer at the question. terzo laughed and nodded in approval, “good, good. now, this next song is for a… special someone here tonight.” he looked out into the sea of people, his eyes zeroing in on you. terzo flashed you a smile before backing away to allow snare to take his spot. the ghoulette strummed away at her guitar, shaking her hips from side to side. she nodded her head at you in greeting, dewdrop sauntering up beside her and beginning to synchronize with snare.

your eyes widened in realization. it was cirice… your head snapped to terzo, who simply shot you a quick wink and turned to begin singing the first verse. warmth blossomed in your chest, heat rushing to your face. terzo took long strides across the stage, slowly coming to a stop in front of you. he crouched down, leaning forward and beginning to reach out towards you. your arm shot out at lightning speed, your body pressing against the railing that separated you and the crowd from the stage. the two of you held each other’s gaze, the sound of the others playing and people singing along turned muffled. all that mattered in that moment to you was terzo. your brows furrowed once you saw two figures approach him from behind. “terzo!” two more guards went on-stage, escorting an elderly man dressed in white robes and a matching mitre. one of the guards wheeled an oxygen tank along, the other passing an oxygen mask to the male. he shakily took it, placing it on his face and inhaling deeply before handing it back. he turned to the crowd, spreading his arms out with his palms facing upwards. “the party is over. the middle ages have begun.” he announced.

a loud ringing filled your ears, drowning out the roaring of the people around you. your eyes drifted over to where terzo had been dragged off stage. what did that papa mean? was terzo gone for good now? your chest heaved rapidly, someone placing a hand on your shoulder and giving you a gentle shake. they were attempting to speak to you, but it sounded as if they were underwater. the world around you began to fade to black, your consciousness slipping away from you before you could realize it.

~

the gentle rush of the water did little to calm your nerves, not after the letter you received from snare. it had been three weeks ever since terzo’s dethroning. it had taken snare another week to reach out to you and ask you to meet her at the gardens. ‘east garden. 3am.’ was all the message said. you supposed it was better than being left in the dark, if snare told you anything at all. approaching footsteps snapped you out of your thoughts, a warm body situating itself next to you on the fountain’s edge. “hey, how’re you holding up?” snare questioned, her voice strained and hesitant. a soft sigh left your lips, “not well…” snare’s shoulders sagged at your words, “sorry, bad question.” she murmured.

the rushing water and nightlife filled in for the silence, the moon’s gentle blue glow basking the garden in a soft light. snare cleared her throat, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a black cloth. her masked face turned to you, your eyes glancing at the tinted eye-holes before flitting down to the cloth in her palm. you could faintly make out some sort of rectangular shape, you squinted in an attempt to get a better look. “papa would’ve wanted you to have this.” snare held the item out to you. you hesitantly took it, grasping the item hidden beneath the cloth. your heart began to race as you peeled the cloth off. there sat the yellow kazoo of destiny, right in the palm of your hand.

you sniffled loudly, tears blurring your vision. you shut your eyes tightly, your fist closing around the kazoo as you brought it to your chest. it was all you had left of terzo… snare’s arm wrapped around your waist, gently pulling you into her arms. your body shook with silent sobs, the ghoulette’s other hand reaching to gently massage your shoulder. together the two of you sat in the garden beneath the moon, you crying your heart out at the loss of your lover, and snare keeping her head low as silent tears rolled down her cheeks.

[samwisethewitch]

The Green Knight as a Fairy Journey

"In this domain more marvels have by men been seen

than in any other that I know of since that olden time."

- Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, translated by J. R. R. Tolkien

In my previous post, we talked about how Arthurian legend combines pagan and Christian elements to create a syncretic mythology. The Holy Grail, for example, is explicitly connected to Christian myths around the death of Jesus, but it may also be related to Irish and Welsh myths about divine cauldrons with healing properties. A lot of Arthuriana is like that -- a patchwork quilt of pagan and Christian elements.

One of the most unapologetically pagan Arthurian legends is Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. This tale has it all -- sex, violence, magic items, and a Green Man figure whose appearances are tied to the winter solstice. While Christian elements are still present (like Gawain's shield which bears an image of the Virgin Mary), they take a backseat to a pretty straightforward fairy story.

Sir Gawain and the Green Knight is a fairy story both in the sense that it features at least one of the Good People (the titular green dude) and in that it follows the protagonist on a journey into the realm of the Good People which is, confusingly, also called Fairy. In studying fairy lore for an upcoming project, I realized how similar this story is to other Fairy Journey narratives from the British Isles, and I think reading it through that lens can help explain a lot of the elements that don't always make sense to modern audiences. 

The story opens with a Christmas celebration at the court of King Arthur. Ye olde partying is interrupted by the arrival of a mysterious knight, who is both bigger than a normal man and entirely green, from his skin to his hair to his clothes and even his horse. The visitor says he has heard tales of Arthur's knights and wants to test their bravery. He proposes a game: he will allow any man in the room the chance to swing at him with his (probably enchanted) axe as long as they will allow him to return the favor in a year and a day. Arthur's nephew, Gawain, accepts this challenge. Gawain beheads the Green Knight with his own axe, but instead of dying the Knight picks up his decapitated head, gets back on his horse, and reminds Gawain of his promise before leaving.

The fact that the stranger who visits Arthur's court has Otherwordly origins is explicitly stated in the text: "in his face and form that showed; / as a fay-man fell he passed, / and green all over glowed." [Emphasis added, quote from Tolkien's translation.]

In other words: "His face and body looked like a terrible fairy man and glowed green all over."

In their book Fairies, A Guide to the Celtic Fair Folk, Morgan Daimler says that green is probably the most well-known color associated with the Good People, and that they are often described as wearing green. Daimler also points out that the Good People often appear wearing a combination of green and red -- usually green with red accents. It's worth noting here that the Green Knight is described as having red eyes. 

When he enters Arthur's hall, the Green Knight is described as holding an ax in one hand and a holly bough in the other. Some authors have argued that this connects him to the Holly King, a figure who represents winter in British folklore. Author John T. Kruse says in his book Faery: A Guide to the Lore, Magic, & World of the Good Folk that holly was used to protect the home from the Other Crowd, but at the same time they were said to shelter under it in the winter. This connects the Green Knight once again to Fairy, and to midwinter.

There are a few details in the encounter in Arthur's court that seem to indicate fae mischief. First, the Green Knight proposes that he accept a blow from one of Arthur's knights and be allowed to return it in a year and a day -- this time frame is common in fairy stories. Second, he asks to know Gawain's name before they begin. Names have power in Fairy, and Gawain freely giving his name to the Green Knight may be what allows the Knight to trick him later in the story.

The following year, Gawain sets out after All Soul's Day (Samhain) to search for the Green Knight. He cannot find any sign of the Green Knight or of the Knight's home, the Green Chapel in England or Wales, and we are told he wanders into "countries unknown." The poem skims over this part of Gawain's journey, but we're told he fights with worms (possibly referring to dragons), wood-trolls, and ogres. It seems pretty clear that at this point Gawain is in the Otherworld.

Gawain eventually arrives at a beautiful estate which belongs to a man named Bertilak. Bertilak's court is consistent with descriptions of Fairy courts -- wealthy and opulent, but very similar to contemporary human society.

The way the poet describes Bertilak's wife may also hint that this is a Fairy court. Lady Bertilak is described as supernaturally beautiful, and Gawain feels immediately drawn to her. This is similar to descriptions of Fairy Queens throughout the Ireland, Wales, and the British Isles.

When Bertilak learns that Gawain is looking for the Green Chapel, he tells him that it is very close by and suggests that Gawain stay with them to regain his strength before going on. Gawain agrees, and Bertilak proposes a game: Bertilak will go hunting, and each day he will give Gawain whatever he gets on his hunt. In exchange, Gawain will give Bertilak whatever he gets in Bertilak's house.

On the first morning, after Bertilak leaves to hunt, Lady Bertilak sneaks into Gawain's bed and offers him sex. ("To my body will you welcome be / of delight to take your fill; / for need constraineth me / to serve you, and I will.") This exploits a paradox in the knight's code Gawain lives by: a knight is required to do anything a noble woman asks, but sleeping with a married woman is a serious sin. Gawain compromises by kssing Lady Bertilak, but not going any further.

That night, Bertilak returns and gives Gawain deer he has killed. Gawain responds by giving Bertilak a kiss ("His fair neck he enfolded then fast in his arms, / and kissed him with all the kindness that his courtesy knew"), but refuses to tell him who he "won" it from.

The next day, Bertilak hunts a boar with his men. Lady Bertilak visits Gawain again, and this time she kisses him twice. When Bertilak returns, he gives Gawain the boar. Gawain gives him the two kisses but refuses to tell him what happened.

On the third day, while Bertilak is hunting a fox, Lady Bertilak visits Gawain and insists on giving him a gift. She offers him her girdle. (Which, for those not familiar, is an undergarment -- it's like the medieval equivalent of offering a man your bra.) Gawain refuses this very inappropriate gift, but Lady Bertilak tells him that the girdle is enchanted and will protect him from physical harm. Gawain takes it, thinking it might save him when he faces the Green Knight. When Bertilak returns and gives Gawain the fox, Gawain keeps the girdle for himself.

Let's unpack this part of the story. First, it's unusual for hunting to be this good in midwinter -- Gawain even comments on how strange it is that Bertilak found such good venison at Christmastime. This is another hint that Bertilak's lands are not bound to the same cycle of the seasons as ours. Daimler notes that Fairy often appears green and bountiful, even when it is winter in the human world.

Second, Lady Bertilak's seduction of Gawain falls into a larger pattern of Fairy Queens taking mortal lovers. The Queen often offers her lovers some kind of magical gift or supernatural power in exchange for their affection, but this often comes at a price. In Gawain's case, his fairy lover grants him protection from harm at the cost of compromising his vows as a knight and lying to her husband.

Third, this fits into the "seduction test" story type. For example: in the first branch of the Welsh Mabinogion, the hero Pwyll trades places with Arawn, lord of the Otherworld, for an entire year but refuses to sleep with Arawn's wife. After this, the two are lifelong friends, and Arawn continues to be friendly to Pwyll's descendents after Pwyll dies.

Gawain finally leaves Bertilak and his wife, wearing Lady Bertilak's girdle for protection. He reaches the Green Chapel, where the Green Knight is waiting for him. The Green Knight fakes him out twice, then gives him a very small cut on the neck. He then reveals that he is Bertilak, and that the cut was a punishment for hiding the girdle Gawain took from his wife. He adds that he doesn't blame Gawain, because he knows he only took the girdle to save his own life. Aside from a little blood and a lot of embarrassment, Gawain is fine.

Bertilak's appearance was changed by Morgan le Fay, who he also calls Morgan the Goddess. (Morgan le Fay LITERALLY means Morgan the Fairy.) He invites Gawain to return to his house to meet Morgan and to celebrate, but Gawain refuses and returns to Camelot instead.

Sir Gawain and the Green Knight makes much more sense as a straightforward tale of a journey into Fairy than it does as a Christian morality tale. The Green Knight is clearly an Otherworldly figure, and both Lady Bertilak and Morgan le Fay fit the role of the Fairy Queen. The test of virtue is consistent with older stories of Otherworld journeys, and Bertilak's home being in Fairy explains how there is such good hunting in the middle of winter.

[enihk-writes]

[so this is love, so this is what makes life divine]

prompt: types of lover troupes with genshin men [based of a tiktok]

pairing: various!genshin men x gn!reader

summary: you get some love! he gets some love! we all get some good ol' lovin! brush your teeth after folks, we can't have you get a nasty toothache after this, or do we now eh?

characters: Albedo // Diluc // Zhongli // Scaramouche** // Kazuha

[**]: artifact lore spoilers

author's note: rubbed my eye with the finger that touched curry while i was eating roti prata and writing this... guess i'll go blind then. it feels so fucking spicy rn, i barely managed to get this sos note out, so many tears bestie idt i can see shit. why did i ask for more masala in the curry, i can't even finish one cup of samyang noodles knn ccb.

working in the library as the new assistant had let you meet a plethora of personalities. but you don’t think any were as memorable as he was. meeting ALBEDO was like love at first sight. the chief alchemist of the knights of favonius was an enigma and not many can say they knew him well. you hadn’t met the rumoured man then, but every story you heard of him only fueled your curiosity further. the calvary captain clearly seemed captivated by the alchemist, and to capture the attention of someone like that for that long was a feat in itself. on one particularly overcast morning, you had been quietly cataloguing the books in the return section, trying to hasten the process before the library was ready for the day, when the door softly clicked open. as you looked up to shoo the person out, your eyes met a pair of sea-green ones. the stranger's ash-blonde hair slightly unkempt, soft strands straying from the braids in his locks— probably so from all the late nights he spent slaving away in his study. the man bowed his head, muttering an apology that went into an ear and out the other, as you felt your face heat up from his intense gaze. honestly, who wouldn’t feel bashful when someone who looked so ethereal was studying them so intently?

“ hello, you must be the new library staff? i have heard about you from the others. i hope you don’t mind too much with me coming over often from now on. ah yes, i have to... introduce myself now right? i am albedo, the chief alchemist of the knights of favonious, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. ”

you can’t say how long you’ve known DILUC. all you knew was that he had always been a big part of your life. you remembered the hot summer afternoons you spent sneaking away from the frantic maids, your small hand entwined with his as you tried to swallow the giggles that bubbled in your throat. he would grin, a mischievous glint in his ruby-red eyes as he plotted the next move, only to be caught by a butler. you remembered hiding behind the wall in the cool spring night with him after secretly escaping from the stifling formalities together, as the birthday party for the young master went on in full swing in the background. it was under this starry twilight that you shared your first kiss with your childhood sweetheart. it was as clumsy as a child’s kiss could be, noses bumping against the other and lips bruising. the two of you grew quiet in embarrassment, yet the hand that held the other grew tighter as he whispered a promise to share a future with you by his side. you never once doubted him, even when he disappeared from mondstadt all of a sudden one day, only to reappear as a young man four years later with a single cecilia flower and a quiet apology.

“ i hope that i haven’t come too late. leaving you behind out of nowhere like that... i hope to seek your forgiveness. it wasn’t my intention to hurt you or break your heart in any manner. that promise that i made to you back then, i would very much like to honour it, if you would let me. ”

liyue has been a prosperous nation for many centuries and its citizens often praise the greatness of their archon morax for all this glory. no one ever remembers the sacrifice of the other gods and adepti, all of which made the peace that liyue enjoys today possible. this was a duty that their god carried with him, their memories that he carved out on his stone-cold heart. ZHONGLI had first met you during the celebratory banquet for the defeat of a certain vengeful ocean god. he had been out and about in his human form, planning to blend with the crowd, but you knew who he was right away. as an adepti and an apprentice of the god of the stove, he should have known you weren’t going to be as easily fooled. and yet, you respected his wish to remain as a stranger in the crowd. once again, you had surprised him. his interest piqued, and so, he spent the night conversing with you. he can’t remember much of what happened anymore— the years he spent without you eating away at the tight hold he had of the moments you two shared. he looks at the still waters in the lakes of mount aocang— what did you look like? when he lays down to rest in the stillness of the night, how did your touch feel? he thinks it was soft, the callouses did little to hide the gentleness of your hands caressing his war-torn face. he remembers, just enough of you so that he wouldn’t go mad, but he had also forgotten more than he was willing to let go. all wounds heal eventually, but he wished the wound of losing you so early would never heal if it meant he was able to hold onto another bittersweet memory of you.

" how much have i wished that we had met in a different time? or in a different life where fate was kinder to us? you loved making teas with the most curious of ingredients, didn’t you? this silkflower tea, i made it the same way you taught me how. it tastes sweet, but not as sweet as it was when you made it. i miss you, my love. could you wait for me a while longer? "

he didn't like to sleep, he never really laid down to rest for long lest he was once again put into an endless slumber. created only to be cast away without a glance. SCARAMOUCHE hated that feeling of helplessness more than anything else. yet the small voice that comes from the back of his mind tells him that it was not a sin to feel vulnerable. he wonders if that voice was his own— a part of him lost to time so long ago, a him that still knew how to cry. he didn't love anyone, that's what he told himself. he didn't love you, that's what he always says. so then why? why is it when night falls and the world goes to sleep, he reaches out for you in this darkness, trying to find solace in your being? he longs and longs for an anchor in this melancholy life of his, and you who would see the end of your life far before he would ever witness his demise— your life that was so fragile had somehow become the only salvation he could ever grasp onto. when dawn breaks, he is never there. the unmade bed where he lay, the only evidence of this selfish indulgence he partakes in. on the days when he feels kind, he is there when you wake. delicate fingers treading through your hair, his lips ghosting on the crown of your head. it was a blissful morning, he hummed a nameless tune, still drunk on the fading fantasies of his yesteryears. with a voice so gentle it felt surreal, he tells you of the dreams a young wanderer once held deep in his empty heart.

" the boy desired of a pure white world, how ironic that it was he who also stained it red. sometimes i pray for that lost boy, his foolish hope to dance to in the soundless music of the winds, i pray his dream is not unheard by those that watches us all live and die. perhaps, if the wish he harbours is fulfilled at a time not too late, i hope his lover would like to dance together with that boy in his pure white world. "

you had gotten to know KAZUHA from one of your biannual trips to liyue. you had been walking out of the harbour city as was he, a pure coincidence for two drifting souls. one who was a little more grounded and the other a little more light-hearted. who was following who? neither of you could tell, some turns he followed after you, some paths you were stumbling after him. on the days when the sun grew unforgiving, he would make use of the blessing given to him by the gods, making a gentle breeze blow past your heated faces. it was under the shade of the large trees you two sat under where he had grown bashful as he recited another poem to you, this time it wasn't that of the nature around you. this time it was of his affections for you poured, out into the short verses he so carefully crafted. months of travelling together, it was no wonder, your heart too had grown fonder for the soft-spoken man beside you. but alas, the boat he had come to the city by had to leave again soon. the day before you had reached the city gates, it had been raining. the shelter you found was small, it wasn't a matter that you and him were huddled so close together. it was a lovely feeling, the way he had your face in both of his hands as he peppered little kisses all over, a whisper of his devotion to you in between each soft touch. when the rays of the setting sun finally peaked through the clouds, the two wanderers were well on their way back to the city's ship docks, your face growing hot and your mind still hazy with the lingering memory of his fingertips dancing across your skin.

" oh? it seems your face has gone red. careful now, i can't have my darling get a fever while i'm gone. unless this is your way of asking me to stay with you longer? if so, i should indulge in my lover's whims more shouldn't i? "

[winchest09]

Hello, Sailor - Chapter Seven

Pairing: Sailor!Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 4665

Summary: Y/N was never a big fan of sailors, so when a ship full of them dock at the harbor in her town, she’s anything but happy. However, there is one in particular that is determined to prove to her that not all men of the sea are the same, and dedicates each day of his shore leave to the task of changing her mind. Will the green eyed sailor prove his point, or hers?

Rating: 15+

Warnings: Fluff, fluff, fluff. Kisses, rope swings, cuddles in the meadow [spoiler] this is where you'll hate Tabby. Insecurities, talks of death, talks of past, arguments, heartbreak, tears.

A/N: Please don't hate me. Please. *insert a puppy dog look here* Let me know what you think if you have the time, thanks so much for reading!  I also want to say a massive thank you to my bestie; @deanwanddamons​​​​​​​ for being my wonderful beta, and for kicking my ass where needed. __________________________

This series is now complete on Patreon! __________________________

Hello,Sailor Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Let me know your thoughts!

A new day had brought with it date number five, and Y/N couldn’t stop the beaming smile or the racing heart that pounded in her chest. From the moment she got out of bed that morning, her thoughts had been on the green-eyed sailor. His charming grin, his warm touch and the smell of his cologne were playing heavily on her mind; she couldn’t wait to see him again, even though it had only been around eight hours since she had last been in his arms. Now, the waitress was watching the clock, her hands wrapped around her purse as she waited for the time she was supposed to be meeting him.

The previous evening, they had spent another few hours just sitting on the beach, kissing and talking about the little things. She had explained to him in detail more about another shell she had found, and in return, he explained that he had an interest in mythical creatures. That caught her attention, not thinking that a man of the sea would have any interest in a book, yet here he was telling her all about his favorite monsters, and the lore that surrounded them. They waited until the darkness had encapsulated them both, a warm night breeze kissing their skin before Dean had walked her back to her home, with her hand in his.

Under the glow of the familiar streetlight, they shared a goodbye kiss with a promise of a fifth date. The sailor had told her to meet him by the docks for midday, promising a fun and relaxing surprise, and he had not disappointed her in his venture. For he had found a spot so beautiful, away from the waves of the sea, and the watchful eyes of the community. It was a quiet meadow, with a trickling brook that ran through it’s centre, long grass hiding some of its most perfect flowers. Next to the flow of running water, was a large oak tree that not only provided shade and solace from the sun's rays, but also a strong arm which was holding up a sizable swinging tire.

Y/N had looked at him, in a mixture of awe and shock, her summer dress kissing the back of her calves as she rushed over towards it. Without assistance, not caring in that instance if she looked less feminine or not, she wrapped her hands around the rope and hoisted herself on top of the rubber, the cord between her legs as the fabric she was wrapped in showed parts of her skin. It was then that she glanced back at her sailor, gesturing for him to come closer and give her a push.

She had been swinging for a good ten minutes, laughter leaving her lips and joy filling her soul. It was as if all the worries in the world were leaving her at that moment, and she felt at peace; calm, collected, restful. She never thought that this would happen in the presence of a sailor, of a man who was absolutely not her type. Yet here she was, biting her lip to stop her cheeks from aching due to the happiness he was bringing her.

“This is beautiful,” she sighed, enjoying the gentle breeze that caressed her cheeks as she swung. Smelling the summertime as she allowed herself to revel in the blissful point in time.

“I thought you would like it,” Dean replied, matching her cheery expression as he gave her another push over the ever flowing water.

“How did you even know this was here?” she questioned, genuinely curious. He had only been on shore leave for five days, and even though he might have visited this town before unbeknownst to her, this was still a really hard spot to find. She had lived here for most of her life and this was a first, even for her.

“I might have had some help. And in regards to the swing, well, we made it,” he explained, causing a curious look to befall Y/N’s features, prompting him to continue. “I had Cas and Benny come out to help me make something from what we had laying around on the ship.”

“Are you guys getting that bored?” She teased, enjoying the feeling of her hair blowing behind her as she swung through the air.

“Maybe they are,” Dean stated, a little shrug in his shoulders before he caught her as she came back, his hands holding onto the tops of her arms to keep her in place while he bent down to plant a kiss on the crown of her head. “But not me.”

To that, she felt like her heart had grown three sizes, this overwhelming wave of affection threatening to break the damn that kept her most delicate parts safe. However, she was curious about his shipmates, and what it was that he was telling them about her, but that specific question wasn’t one for today. This date was about them, having fun. It was about Y/N, getting close to letting him into her soul completely, with the trust that he would never hurt her. So she altered it slightly, still inquisitive about what they might have been getting up to.

“So what about them?” the waitress asked, unable to resist the urge to tease her sailor. She also wanted to see if she could prove her point about his kind. “Are they not sowing their wild oats?”

“They have wives,” Dean stated matter of factly, but in return, she shot him a look that read ‘What’s your point?’. “And they’re not those kind of guys.”

“I’m yet to be convinced,” she sang, her melodic voice carrying on the gentle breeze that came blowing across the meadow.

“And here was me thinking I was doing a pretty good job,” the Lieutenant Commander shot back, his words as smooth as honey as he caught her in her swing again, spinning the tire so she was now fully facing him.

“I’m going to need a stronger argument,” she whispered, both hands gripping onto the rope as she rested her head against the threads.

With a warm smile, and a soft gaze, Dean took a step forward and wrapped his fingers around the tether that bound the swing to the tree. With slow, calculated movements, he slid his palm up over her shoulder, his touch barely grazing her skin before it came to rest at the nape of her neck, his digits entwining in her hair. His gaze locked on hers before it momentarily dipped to her mouth, and he closed the distance between them. With the rays of the sun peeking through the leaves, the soft wind that kept them cool, and the gentle noise of running water behind them, they kissed.

Y/N felt herself melt against him, his lips providing her with a comfort she didn’t know she had been missing. She had to refrain from letting out a small whimper, not wanting the sailor to know how her body was truly reacting. It had been so long since she had felt loved, since she had been touched in a way which only a man could provide. She could feel herself beginning to give into him, her walls crumbling and her heart holding up a white flag in surrender to the magnetic pull she had been resisting since they first met.

“You make a good point,” she spoke quietly against his mouth, sighing in contentment as she stayed incredibly close to him, enjoying the safety his body brought with it.

“Is that so?” Dean smiled, nudging her nose ever so slightly with his as his fingers rubbed at the base of her neck.

To that, she hummed, a soft breath leaving her, “I’d advise you to keep making them.”

Not wasting a beat, the sailor dipped his head to catch her lips once more, only this time the exchange was a little more passionate. He encouraged her to wrap her arms around his neck, something she did willingly before she allowed her fingers to card through the short length of his hair. While drunk on his kisses, Y/N assisted him as she pulled her leg around the rope to ensure she wasn’t straddling it anymore, before allowing Dean to lift her close to his chest. His palms were warm on her thighs, only the thin material of her summer dress acting as a barrier away from his touch.

Entwined, he carried the waitress up a gradual sloping hill, before he carefully and cautiously sat her down upon the grass in the meadow. The long blades of greenery and crested dogstail shielded them from anyone’s view; it was secluded, private and as Dean lay down next to her, his arms open wide in encouragement for her to join him, she couldn’t help but feel at peace. It was an offer she couldn’t refuse, and quickly tucked herself into his side, her head coming to rest upon his chest, the rhythm of his heart a melody she could listen to on repeat.

They laid like that, in silence, for a few minutes. Only the sounds of gulls in the distance, random birdsong from the trees that surrounded them, and the wind rustling through the foliage could be heard. If she had to choose a happy place, one where she wanted to feel tranquil and calm, this would be it; with the sailor. It still shocked her, the way she had bonded to a man she had only known just shy of six days. It still confused her as to why he would want to spend all of this time by her side. He could be having the time of his life with his friends, seeing what the small town had to offer and yet instead, he chose to be with Y/N every single day.

“I could stay like this forever,” Dean confessed, matching her internal thoughts as his fingers came to softly caress the bare skin of her shoulder, while he bent his other arm under his head.

“Is that not against your code?” Y/N asked him, thankful her head was on his chest so he could not see her playful expression.

“Hm?” he hummed, his tone highlighting his slight bewilderment.

It was then that she turned, her chin now resting upon one of his pectorals, as she grinned at the man beneath her, “Laying with the same woman for the rest of your life?”

“Oh you’re a fireball today, Sparky,” he grumbled, although a smirk was pulling at his lips as he glanced down at his tormentor.

“Just today?”

“True,” Dean agreed, a little chuckle wrapping around his words as his fingers rubbed at her arm. “You didn’t earn the nickname without good reason.”

Y/N could have retorted to that comment, but instead she let it pass as she cuddled closer to him, enjoying the comfort his hold brought her. Alternatively, she looked up towards the blue skies and watched the clouds that were sailing on by. As she played a game with herself, her mind trying to make pictures out of the white fluffy cotton-like balls, she couldn’t help but think about how far they had come. From that very first night where had offered to walk her home to now, there had been a definite shift in things and she could only be thankful of his persistence. The happiness she felt in that moment, she wanted to bottle it and hold it close to heart, never letting it go.

“Look,” she breathed, her fingers pointing towards the sky, wanting to share the passtime with the man beneath her, “don’t you think that looks like a ship?”

“A little,” Dean returned, his voice deep as it vibrated through him, causing Y/N to turn her head to look up at him once more.

“Your eyes are closed!” she gasped, letting out a small chuckle as she allowed her fingers to idly play with the button of his denim shirt.

“I’m savoring the moment,” he replied, his smirk returning as he tightened his hold on the woman next to him.

“You’re missing it,” she laughed, playfully urging him to enjoy this moment. Upon those words leaving her, Dean slowly looked upon her face, granting her access to his enchanting jade orbs. His smirk had dropped, and was replaced with a smile that only made his cheeks twitch as he reached to move some stray hair out of Y/N’s face.

“I have my own ship that I can see at any time,” he informed her, his hand slowly tracing the edge of her jawline before he pinched her chin between his forefinger and thumb, “and with only two full days of shore leave left, I don’t want to think about any cruiser that’s going to take me away from you.”

That was the moment another wall crumbled. She saw the sincerity in his gaze, the honesty that rested behind his eyes and she felt a small wave of guilt wash over her, “I’m sorry. I didn’t think.”

“Hey, you have nothing to apologise for,” he reassured her, his palm now cupping her cheek as his mouth stretched into one of his beautiful smiles. “But you could always give me one of your kisses to sweeten the deal if you’re so inclined.”

“Is that so?” she questioned, unable to hide her own smile as she felt herself giving into him and stretching her body so their lips were only millimetres apart.

“Mhm,” he hummed once again, before he closed the space and allowed her to seek solace in his touch.

They lay there together, lost in each other as the clouds continued to pass by overhead. She didn’t think that she would ever tire of receiving such affection from him; each time felt new, exciting and there would always be a bubble of exhilaration in her stomach. Was this what love felt like? She thought she had given her heart away before but this…what she had with Dean…whatever was blossoming between them was something she had never experienced before. His hands never wandered, they stayed tied to the same positions they were in as they kissed; one on her cheek and the other on her hip as it slid when she moved towards him. Forever the gentlemen, she thought.

Breaking apart, she now tucked her head closer to his neck, resting against his shoulder. She breathed him in, the scent of his cologne grounding as she moved her hand to rest over his heart. She could feel the beat through her fingertips, the steady thud causing her to smile as it reminded her to enjoy this moment, for who knows what the future could hold. It made her think about Dean’s choice in profession; choosing to leave family, and loved ones. Putting his life on the line every single day while sacrificing points in time like the one they were sharing.

“Do you enjoy it?” Y/N asked, her voice soft and a little timid, “life on a ship?”

“I do,” he admitted, his hand coming to stroke delicate lines up and down her back. “Sort of.”

“Sort of?” she repeated, curious to know more about his answer and his life. She assumed there was a reason as to why he decided to leave dry land behind, and now they were swept up in this serene moment, she felt it was the perfect time to question it.

“As you know, my father was also a sailor, a Commander actually,” Dean started to explain, the tones of his voice deep as she listened. “He worked hard for his family, provided for my mom. Came home as often as he could. Not long after my brother Sammy finished school, he..uh,” he struggled before swallowing deeply, “he died at sea.”

Upon hearing that, Y/N lifted her head almost immediately and met his saddened expression with her sympathetic one, “Dean…”

“There was this huge storm, causing thirty foot high waves and unbearable winds. It swept him overboard,” he admitted to her, finally meeting her stare through his glazed over eyes.  “His body was never recovered. So, we held this memorial for him next to the sea at home, laid our flowers on the water and said our goodbyes. ”

“So that’s why you followed in his footsteps?” The question was more rhetorical than anything else. Like she was speaking her own thoughts aloud because it made sense, that he wanted to honor his father that way.

“Yeah,” he sighed, his fingers now coming to her hair as he played with a few loose strands. “That and I wanted to provide for my mom. I was the man of the house.”

“That’s a big burden to carry,” Y/N stated, frowning a little at the stress he must have been under. This man had put his life on hold, his own dreams pushed to the back of the queue out of love and duty for his family.

“I just knew I had to look after them. It’s what my dad would have wanted,” he confessed, a small sigh leaving him. “So I became a sailor, worked my way up through the ranks and now I’m here, on the list to be promoted to Commander.”

It was like someone had just thrown a bucket of ice down the back of her dress, cold water dousing out the growing fire that had slowly been burning brightly ever since she had decided to lower her defences. Now, the warning bells were ringing loud and clear, the guards of her heart signalling for the bridges to be closed and the walls to be rebuilt. The masters of her mind were clearing the fog that had clouded her vision, revealing the reality of what was.

“Y-you’re being promoted?” she struggled to say, pushing back off him into a seating position, her legs now curled beneath her as Dean angled his head to look at her clearly.

“Yeah, after these three–” he started, but the panic that was rising in her chest forced her to spit out her words.

“--no, I know what happens,” she cut him off, refusing to give him eye contact as she frantically began to brush any stray dried grass from her dress. “That means you have to do another tour, another four years.”

“It doe–”

“--so what is the point in all of this?” she snapped, one hand flying to her mouth as she tried to quell the fury and emotional upset that was raging like a storm inside of her.

Dean had done it. He had got her entranced in his spell and for a moment or two, she truly believed that he was different, that this was something different. But it wasn’t. He was a sailor who was looking to fill his time with a woman as his days passed, he was a man of the sea who didn’t care about the wreck he left behind as soon as he boarded his ship. Why else would he pursue her when he knew he would be signing up for another four years? What possible future could they ever have had when he would be god knows where with god knows who. She was stupid, she had let down her guard and she only had herself to blame.

“What?” He frowned, his eyebrows meeting together as he abruptly sat up, his hand reaching for hers but she quickly pulled away.

“This!” she exclaimed, gesturing between them. “Us!” It was then that she abruptly stood, agitatedly ensuring there was not one spec of dirt on her clothes before she turned to look down at him, her eyes glossy with tears  “Not that there is an us I’m guessing, I’m just something to fill that boredom until you leave. I can’t believe I fell for it, again.”

“Sweetheart, just calm down a second,” Dean spoke collectedly, his palms out in front of him as if he was trying to stop a deer from running, while he began to stand.

“Don’t call me that,” Y/N snapped, jumping slightly when she heard a rumble of thunder above her head. “I’m not your sweetheart!”

The once blue skies and golden sunshine were now hidden behind clouds that were dull and grey. A storm was rolling in, the wind picking up its pace as it swooped around them, bringing a few drops of rain along with it. She didn’t care that the water would mess up her makeup, or ruin her hair because the man in front of her had destroyed what little she thought about herself in one sentence.

“If you would just let me–” the sailor tried once more, wanting to reach out but she recoiled at the effort, choosing to instead wrap her arms around herself, becoming her own comfort.

“--explain?” the waitress interrupted once more, not even caring if she was coming across rude. “What do you need to say? That this is different to anything you’ve felt before? That I am nothing like any other woman? I’ve heard those lines, the ones that get said to every other willing female at every available port. I was so dumb to think that this was something.”

“Y/N, it is,” he reassured, his voice never raising as he held her stare.

“LIES!” she shot back, her bottom lip quivering as she desperately tried to hold back her tears. “You’re going back to that life when you could be free in three months! I’m just the filler for the week. The moment you step back on your ship, I’ll be forgotten.”

“I could never,” Dean appealed, taking a step closer towards her, which only caused her to take one back.

Y/N so desperately wanted to believe him, wanted to trust every word that left his pretty mouth but it was too late, the damage had been done. Not just by him, but by all the other sailors that had come before him. She had given this a chance, but she had been blinded by his act; by his kindness, his thoughtfulness, his beauty. All of it was just a ploy to get her on side, to ensure that he wasn’t by himself and womanless on those long lonely days. He made her believe that she was special, that she was worth something; now every single thing he had done for her just felt so tarnished.

“You filled my head with your fantasies, and I imagine you feel proud as punch that you were winning your bet. Going back to your sad little friends to tell them how you were this close to holding my heart,” she spoke with fervour, her words leaving her with as much strength as her shattered heart would allow. “Well jokes on you, sailor boy. Find someone else to play your game.”

With that final statement, the waitress turned on her heel and began to march down the hillside, bowing her head to try and steel herself from the storm that was now pouring down on top of them. She wasn’t bothered by the rain, or the wind, the discomfort they would cause would be nothing compared to the agony that was weighing heavily in her chest.

“Y/N, wait, th–” she heard Dean call after her, and it caused her to turn around fiercely. She wanted to be left alone, to recover what little fragments of her soul were left.

“--don’t!” she barked, pointing a finger at the sailor whose shirt was now clinging to his skin, beads of water hanging from his lashes as he stood just a few feet in front of her. “I knew it was a bad idea to come near your kind. I trusted you! I was starting to–”

“-- what, Sparky?” he gruffly cut off, his tone now sharp and intimidating as he finally attempted to stand his ground, his voice rising above the thunder. “What were you starting to do?! Fall for me?”

“You would love that wouldn’t you?” she said with a chiding tone, not even flinching when a bolt of lightning shot through the sky.  “Well tough luck.”

Her last sentence sounded as broken as she felt, before she turned back towards the descent of the hill and allowed her legs to carry her as quickly as they could. She couldn’t believe she was here again, experiencing heartbreak over someone who she had known for less than a week. This was hurting more than her last relationship, one that had lasted for a lot longer.

As she curled her arms back around her stomach, her sundress sticking to her skin, she could only hope that no-one would be around as she got back to the docks. She didn’t want the judgement, the pity, the whispered conversations as her neighbors talked about how foolish she was to get involved with another sailor.

“I’m not letting you go!” Dean shouted after her, causing her to suck in another breath. But she didn’t care to look back at him, wanting to get as far away as possible from the man whom she thought was different.

“That’s not your decision to make,” she cried, angling her head up to the heavens as if she was searching for some strength. Willing for some wisdom from her departed family, praying for some good to come her way. That wasn’t much to ask was it? For what had she done to deserve so much pain in so few years?

“We need to talk about–” the Lieutenant Commander tried again but she didn’t glance back, didn’t give him the time he wanted.

“--I said all I have to say!” It was her bold statement, one that she had to dig deep for. There was still a part of her that was yearning to go and run back into his arms, to seek the comfort and safety that she had quickly gotten used to over the past few days, the solace that only Dean Winchester could provide. But no, she wouldn’t give in, she had sailed this voyage too many times.

“Like it or not, Y/N, I’m not giving up on us,” the sailor shouted, his deep and gruff tones carrying on the wind as she reached the path that would take her home.  “I’ll be at the dock tomorrow, from the moment the sunrise hits the water. I’ll be there, waiting for you, and I will stay as long as it takes.”

“Like it or not, Dean, we’re done,” she reaffirmed, stopping in her path briefly as she inhaled another shaky breath. She was about to lay down her anchor on this relationship, and take the lifeboat to shore. “Don’t follow me, and don’t waste your time tomorrow.”

“It’s not a waste it comes to you.”

Y/N wanted to scream, she wanted to cry out her frustration but she would not allow herself to break in front of the green-eyed sailor. His last words had struck her heart, the fletching of the metaphorical arrow he had fired still wobbling within her chest. She had to fight the urge to look back at him one more time, that small spark of hope that was dodging each attempt at being extinguished shouting at her to memorise his face. But it was too much, and the shadows of her doubts and her demons blocked out that light.

Once he was unable to see her anymore, and she knew that his stares were not burning a hole in her back, a sob passed her lips. One that she had to mask with the palm of her hand as she hurriedly left him behind. With all of her might, she walked away from the happiest she had felt in months, ran away from the lingering touches and thoughtful words, away from the one person who apparently saw her like no-one else could.

Away from the man she had started to love.

——————————————– Chapter Eight ——————————————– A/N: I’m sorry...i’m sorry!! *hides* Tag list is open! If you want to jump on the ship, then let me know HERE :)

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