#cauldron snout

[siriuslovebot]

˖ ࣪⭑˖ ࣪𝒎𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒆 ➸ 𝒓𝒆𝒎𝒖𝒔 𝒍𝒖𝒑𝒊𝒏 ˖ ࣪⭑ ˖ ࣪

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 𝑨𝑵𝑶𝑵𝒀𝑴𝑶𝑼𝑺 𝑨𝑺𝑲𝑬𝑫: hi! can i please request a remus x reader in which the reader has always had a huge crush on him, but thought the feelings were unrequited? she lets the secret slip to lily & marlene and somehow it gets back to remus who finds it very endearing and teases her a bit?

𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺: shy!reader, playful teasing, the pet name mouse, some suggestive dialogue but nothing explicit. 

𝑺𝑼𝑴𝑴𝑨𝑹𝒀: the reader has always had a huge crush on remus. the girls find out and marlene accidentally lets it get back to remus. 

𝑨/𝑵: thank you for your request, lovely anon! i’ve luckily got a few requests that i’m working on, so thank you all for being patient with me. i also want to say thank you for all of the love on my last post! i was very nervous about my first post and i received so much love and support! requests are still open, and as always feedback is greatly appreciated!

𝑾𝑶𝑹𝑫 𝑪𝑶𝑼𝑵𝑻: 4.1k 𓂃♡₊⭑

·͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺

        “morning, mouse.”

        there’s a teasing touch to remus’s voice as he slides into the seat beside you. you glance at him out of the side of your eye as you take your potions textbook out of your bag, placing it gently on the table. a huff leaves your lips.

         “are you lot ever gonna let that go?” you frown, crossing your arms as you turn to him. 

         there’s a soft smile playing on his lips, and a chuckle from sirius behind him as he joins the pair of you at the table.

         “never gonna forget the look on mcgonagall’s face when she turned around,” says sirius brightly. you scowl at him, wanting to wipe the stupid amused grin right off of his face. 

        “shut up,” you say.

         “it wasn’t so bad. you had a rather cute little snout…” remus touches a finger to the tip of his nose, his smile slowly changing from gentle to a rather shit-eating one. 

        “oh come on, how many people can say they turned themselves into a mouse, y/n? takes proper skill to cast a spell without realizing your wand is turned the wrong way.” 

        your face flushes pink. “i–i was distracted!” you defend. 

        “distracted, that’s right… chatting away to moony and casting spells at the same time. how’ve you gone this long without blowing yourself to pieces?”

        you stick your tongue out at him, shoving his shoulder and laughing as he tumbles halfway off of his seat. he catches himself, making a face as he regains his spot. 

        “watch yourself, black,” you threaten. “how’d you like to be a dog permanently?”

        “double check you’ve your wand turned the right way ‘round this time, yeah?”

        there’s a thumping noise as you backhand his arm, and he winces dramatically.

        “all right, you two,” says remus, voice amused. “slughorn’s here.”

        chastised, you and sirius settle into your seats. the chattering of the rest of the class settles, and professor slughorn directs you to open your books to the correct chapter. you shift in your seat, glancing over at remus as he gathers his potions ingredients. his elbow nudges yours as he adjusts his cauldron.

        “sorry, mouse,” he says offhandedly. though you insist you hate the silly nickname, the sound of him saying it makes your stomach do a little flip. your neck and ears burn, but you say nothing, instead focusing on the task at hand. sirius is distracted by james mouthing something at him across the classroom, which has caught lily’s attention as well. her gaze catches you for a second, and you hope she’s too far away to see the flustered expression decorating your features as you scramble to start on your potion.

        invested in your textbook, you don’t notice when james makes his way over to your table, peering into your cauldrons as he returns from the class stores, having run out of one of his ingredients. “wonder why old sluggy’s got us brewing beautification potions,” he comments, making a face as he peers from sirius’s potion to remus’s. 

        “probably heard about y/n’s incident in transfiguration,” said sirius slyly, nudging your shoulder. your mouth falls open as james laughs.

         “pads,” remus warns, throwing him a sharp glance.

        sirius’s clear eyes dart between you and remus, and he holds his hands up in surrender. “sorry,” he says, “didn’t mean it, honest. y’know i think you’re fit, y/n.” he flashes a smile, turning on the charm.

         you roll your eyes. “you’re a right git, you know that?”

         “oh, come on. i’d have snogged the lights out of you by now if lily didn’t have her bloody rules,” he continues, back to his potion. james sniggering laugh fades as he returns to his table with lily and peter. 

         “‘m going to pretend i didn’t hear that,” says remus.

         “likewise,” you agree, an incredulous laugh bubbling in your chest. sirius responds with a noncommittal shrug, sprinkling a handful of rose petals into his potion without a care in the world. 

˖ ࣪⭑˖ ࣪

        “so, mouse, how’d your study session in the library go?” the sound of the nickname coming in lily’s teasing voice causes your face to burn hot. 

        you turn towards her, having just pulled your nightgown over your head. you make a face, raking a hand through your hair as you flop onto your bed. marlene’s sprawled on her stomach at the end of your bed, flicking through a muggle magazine that lily brought back from holiday. 

        “not you too!” you complain, sighing heavily.

        “i’m only teasing,” she says, leaning against the windowsill with her arms crossed over her chest. her lips are curled up in amusement, features slightly shadowed by the moonlight spilling in through the window behind her.

        “i’ll never be y/n again. i’m gonna be mouse for the rest of my life at this rate,” you grumble, frustrated. “i mean, you accidentally transfigure yourself one time, and suddenly you’ve got a stupid nickname for life…”

        marlene giggles at your dramatics, dropping the magazine onto your bed. “i think you’ll be okay. seems like james and sirius have gotten all of their fun out of it…” she trailed thoughtfully. “sirius was having the most fun with it, and even he was back to calling you y/n by the end of dinner.”

        “remus, though,” lily begins, her eyes flashing with mischief. “seems like he really likes it.”

        you swallow hard, trying not to think of the way your heart pounds at the sound of the silly nickname in his voice. tearing your eyes away from lily, you try to mask the embarrassment blooming on your face. even when the pair of you went to the library after your evening meal, he had taken to calling you ‘mouse’ without even realizing it. almost affectionately. you’d been reeling with butterflies the entire time, unable to focus on studying for your upcoming exams. 

        “kind of endearing, isn’t it?” continues marlene. “i mean, he gets this dreamy sort of look in his eyes when he’s talking to you… and it’s sort of a sweet nickname, if you think about it…”

        “oh, come on,” you interject, as if they’re being ridiculous. 

        “no, honestly, y/n, you’re a bit oblivious,” lily adds. “he definitely thinks you’re fit.”

        marlene smiles as you glance between the two of them, nodding her head in agreement. “and don’t lie and say you don’t feel the same way,” she warns.

        “guys–”

        lily narrows her eyes at you, “no lying.”

        “i see you going all starry-eyed when you’re with him!” marlene sits up at the end of your bed, clasping her hands in her lap as she looks at you expectantly. “i’d bet ten galleons you curl up in your bed at night and dream of snogging remus lupin.”

        “oh my godric,” you mutter, placing your hands to your burning face. you can’t bear to look either of them in the eye. you hate that they know you so well, and even worse that you’re doing a horrible job of hiding your crush on one of your best friends. it’s a miracle that no one’s gone blasting it all over the school yet. 

        “so it’s true?” lily prompts, leaning in to better hear your admission of guilt.

        you huff, “don’t make me admit it.” your voice comes out as a whine, and that’s how they know they’ve got you. your secret has been exposed, and they’re having a giggling fit over it. 

        “next thing you know we’ll be finding moony and the mouse, curled up snogging in the common room,” says marlene, sounding smug. 

       “shut up,” you plead, though you can’t help the stupid smile that comes onto your lips as you shake your head. 

        “breaking all sorts of rules,” says lily. “including mine!”

        lily’s one explicit rule: no marauders hooking up with her friends. a tried and true method of keeping the boys (mostly sirius) out of yours and marlene’s pants. it’s been foolproof.

        “oh, shove it with the rules, evans,” marlene retorts. “you’d forget all about them once the four of you can go on silly little double dates.”

        you feign a gag, and it sends them both into fits of laughter. “i am not going on any double dates.”

        “no,” says lily, breathless, “i don’t think remus would like that very much, either…”

˖ ࣪⭑˖ ࣪

        “where’s your chaperone, mckinnon?” it’s sirius, lounging on one of the sofas in the gryffindor common room. his wand is in his hand, flicking back and forth as he sends a tiny spark of light bouncing around the common room. he’s bored, waiting for the return of remus and james, probably to cause some trouble.

        marlene crosses her arms over her chest. “she’s wrapped around your best friend, black,” she says, a faux-disgusted look plastered on her face. “they’re in a broom closet, snogging each other’s faces off…”

        “ugh,” sirius says, dropping his wand as he leans up on his elbows to meet marlene’s gaze. “i showed james that bloody closet. now he’s gone and defiled it…” he flops back onto the couch, looking slightly sickened. 

        “can’t keep their hands off each other, the pair of them,” sirius continues after a moment.

        marlene laughs, settling into one of the plush armchairs near the sofa sirius occupies. “you’re telling me.”

        “what about moony?” sirius asks. 

        “studying with y/n.”

        sirius nods, having expected that answer. “y’know, they’re as bad as lily and james. worse, i think,” he says. “it’s a nightmare, having to watch him fawn over her like a little lost puppy. i mean, ‘m supposed to be the canine here…” he shakes his head.

        “you should hear y/n,” marlene counters. she’s not thinking as she speaks to sirius, not realizing she’s going on about your crush that you explicitly asked her not to discuss with anyone, especially not james or sirius. “the girl’s just dreaming of being shoved into a broom closet with remus. i wish they’d get over themselves and get a room.” 

        there’s a second of quiet between them, before marlene realizes what she’s just done. her eyes widen, and she blinks as sirius turns to look at her. she opens her mouth, though no words come out for a moment. “sirius–”

        “well, i don’t know about shoving but–”

        “sirius, listen to me,” marlene threatens, her voice sharp. “you can’t say anything. please. y/n will kill me.”

        “ah, marls, that ship has sailed,” he laughs, sitting up. “moony’s in for a treat.” he practically leaps from his place on the sofa, looking awfully haughty as he plans to expose the blooming feelings between the two of his friends. 

        “sirius!” she hisses. “i’ll give you five galleons to keep it to yourself. please.”

         sirius tuts, shaking his head. “sorry, love. i’ve no need for your money. besides, i’m doing all of us a favor here.”

         marlene deflates before him, feeling extremely defeated as she watches sirius leave the common room, a new swagger in his step. dread clouds her senses as she realizes she’s going to have to tell you that she revealed your crush on remus. 

˖ ࣪⭑˖ ࣪

         “you’re looking awfully chipper this morning,” comments sirius, eyes skirting over you as you join him in the corridor. 

        “it’s hogsmeade weekend,” you say simply, hooking your arm through his to lead him down to the entry hall. it seems the rest of your friends have left already, none of them keen on waiting for you to return from the greenhouses this morning after helping professor sprout harvest flobberworm mucous for extra credit. “thanks for waiting for me, by the way.”

        “someone had to,” he says, sounding a bit sheepish. 

        you roll your eyes, used to his faux disdain at your expense. “how’s moony?” you ask as you join the rest of the students making their way down to hogsmeade. the full moon was a couple nights ago, and you hadn’t seen your beloved lycanthrope in far too long. he tended to avoid you when it was, ahem, that time of the month, and though you thought it was unnecessary during the day, you understood. sirius and james could deal with him when he was in that state, but none of them liked to risk having you or the girls anywhere near his furry little problem. it was thoughtful, honestly. 

        “exhausted,” replies sirius. “he wanted to wait for you, but lily didn’t want to leave him alone. reckon she was scared he’d fall asleep standing up and get a concussion.”

        you laugh half-heartedly and wonder why remus didn’t decide to stay behind and get some sleep. you worried about him, oftentimes wondering if he was truly taking care of himself properly. each time he went out to the shrieking shack he returned with new scars, looking more and more ill as the weeks went on. it was a wonder he was managing his classes and keeping decent marks. 

        you chatter back and forth as you make your way to hogsmeade, sirius recounting their latest excursion in the shrieking shack. you finally make it to hogsmeade, spotting lily’s bright hair shining in the sun, and the goofy look on james’s face as he does some impersonation of one of your classmates, that you just happen to catch the tail-end of.

        “who’s that you’re mocking, prongs?” you raise your eyebrows, arms crossed as the group begins marching towards the three broomsticks. 

        “i’ll have a guess,” says sirius. he thinks it over for a second, then a lightbulb seems to go off in his head. “that hufflepuff fifth year, what’s his name? the burly one, tried out for seeker and wrecked his broom into the stands?”

        james erupts into a fit of cackling laughter, nodding his head. “yes, yes!” he claps, looking quite pleased with his interpretation of the hufflepuff boy’s less than graceful dismount. remus laughs softly, while marlene rolls her eyes. 

        “not everyone is as adept as you on a broomstick, potter,” says marlene.

        “i’m only joking,” james says, shrugging. “‘sides, it’s not like anyone’s gonna tell the poor guy. what he doesn’t know, won’t hurt him.” the dark-haired boy winks as he opens the door to the three broomsticks, waving you all inside. 

        you nudge remus in the side as you stand in the crowd, waiting to push through the gaggles of students to find a table big enough to fit all of you. 

        “hello, mouse,” he says, voice tired although he’s sporting his usual smile. sirius was right. he looks awfully haggard, and a lot like he should be in bed instead of traipsing through hogsmeade. 

        “how are you feeling?” you ask, concerned. your conversation is overshadowed by the chatter all around you, which you’re thankful for. it’s unlikely anyone could overhear the two of you discussing his delicate situation. 

        “i could go for a long nap,” he says, truthfully. “missed you, though.”

        your heart leaps in your chest, and a shy half-smile finds its way to your lips. “you don’t have to exhaust yourself just to see me, rem,” you say, flushed. 

        “i don’t mind.” he shrugs. his hand bumps yours as you stand, watching sirius push through a crowd of confused looking third-years, heading for a table in the corner. he hooks one finger with yours for half a second, before the two of you are following your friends to the table. 

        you swear the touch sends your whole body vibrating, your heart beating loudly enough that you’re sure everyone in the pub can hear it. you take your seat, head swimming as you settle down and order a butterbeer when madame rosmerta comes for your orders. 

        after the three broomsticks, your group splits up. james and sirius flit off to spintwitches sporting needs, james muttering something about new quidditch gloves. marlene and lily run into mary macdonald outside of honeydukes. which leaves you and remus.

        “right, mouse, where to?” remus looks to you for direction, having brightened up a bit since having something to drink. he’s much less ill-looking, although you notice a fresh scar creeping up from beneath the neckline of his sweater. your eyes skirt over the wound, but you jerk your attention away before he notices. 

        “how about gladrags?” you wonder aloud. “i saw a nice blouse in there on the last hogsmeade weekend. ‘course, i talked myself out of buying it at the time, but i really want it…” you realize that you’re rambling, and stop before you can embarrass yourself. 

        “after you,” he offers his arm, and you try not to look flustered as you take it. 

        gladrags is empty as ever, very few wizards doing any clothing shopping at this time of year, it seems. the cashier is an ancient elderly lady, who shouts hello at you as you enter. you reply, but she’s got hearing problems, and you’re not loud enough. remus shouts a greeting back, earning a smile from the lady and a fit of giggles from you.

        “poor old woman,” remus says, amused.

        “hush,” you say quietly, although there’s no risk of her accidentally hearing you.

        “sorry,” he says, eyes still crinkled as he smiles. “now, where is this lovely blouse?” he inquires, quirking an eyebrow. you finger through the racks, looking for the pale-coloured, silken fabric. you finally find it, the last shirt on a very back rack. 

        “what do you think?” you ask, holding the fabric up against your front, peering down at it.

        “hmmm,” remus examines the fabric, taking the tail of it between his fingers. “looks like  a blouse.” 

        you roll your eyes. “this is why i don’t go shopping with boys,” you say, laughing softly. 

        “maybe you should try it on,” he suggests. “i’m sure it looks better on.”

        you nod. “good idea,” you flit off to the changing rooms. remus waits for you, your coat draped over his arm as he waits for you to change, listening to you curse as you fiddle with the buttons on the blouse. you adjust the lace outlining the neckline and the sleeves, smoothing the fabric as you eye yourself in the mirror. 

        “okay, rem, what do you think?” you thrust open the curtain to the changing room. remus’s eyes widen a tad, and you swear there’s a flush of pink across his cheeks. he forces his gaze up from the dip in the silken fabric that accentuates your chest, and meets your eyes. you shift under his gaze, looking hopeful.

        “erm,” he clears his throat, brushing a strand of hair off of his forehead. “much better on, absolutely. very pretty, mouse.”

        “i thought so, too,” you agree, turning away and sweeping the curtain shut behind you. outside, you hear him swear under his breath and the sound of shuffling. your hands tremble a bit, your nerves getting the better of you. the complement, coupled with the bloody nickname. it’s enough to have your head spinning, wishing you could just grab him by the shoulders and kiss him silly. in your mind’s eye you see the almost bashful look in his eyes as he took in the sight of you, and you can’t focus on anything else. 

        after a few moments of struggling with the stupid buttons, unable to undo them, you hear his voice on the other side of the door.

        “okay in there?” he asks, closer now. the sound of his voice sends a jolt through you.

        “i’m all right,” you respond. “can’t get these bleeding buttons undone.”

        it’s quiet for a second. “need help, mouse?”

        you freeze. he sounds like he genuinely wants to help. you tell yourself he’s just a friend offering help to his friend. deep down, though, you’re hopeful. maybe your feelings are not as one-sided as you thought… 

        you struggle with the buttons for another second, then concede. you peek out of the changing room, ensuring there are no witnesses, before dragging him inside by the sleeve of his sweater. there’s a split second of tension, his gaze finding your half-unbuttoned blouse before it lands on your clearly flustered expression. 

        he laughs gently. your brows pull together.

        “what’s funny?” you ask, frowning. 

        “‘m sorry,” he says, shaking his head. “let me just…” he trails, hanging up your discarded coat before his nimble fingers come to the buttons on your chest. goosebumps rise on your skin, and you try not to shiver. you follow his movements, his face screwed up in concentration as he fiddles with the tricky buttons.

        “i’m starting to rethink this purchase, considering it’s a nightmare getting off,” you say, pressing your lips together as his eyes flick up to your face. he smiles, amused. 

        “i think you should get it,” remus says.

        “you think so?”

        “yeah. especially if you’ll be needing my help taking it off more often.” you swear he winks at you, and your knees turn into jelly. has he really just said that? you blink for a second, one of your hands coming up to stop his fingers from unhooking the buttons.

        “moony…”

        “what?” he looks up at you, a teasing glint in his pale brown eyes. 

        your cheeks are pink, and your eyes dreamy as you look at him. his skin is warm where your hand is clasped around his, and despite his exhaustion, he’s never felt more alive.

        “i– sorry,” he says, “you just— you look very beautiful. and i think it would be a waste not to buy this blouse when it wouldn’t look nearly as good on anyone else.” his voice has gone quiet. he swallows before continuing. “sirius said... well, maybe he was lying, but he said you have feelings for me... and i just wanted you to know that i feel the same.”

        the butterflies in your stomach have turned to dragons, ravaging your insides. you’re pressed close to him, close enough to feel his breath fanning over your skin. inside your chest, your heart is beating fast enough that you’re sure it’s going to burst any second. with your free hand, you reach up and slowly trace the new scar on his neck, up to his face. you cup his cheek, your thumb swiping just beneath his clear eyes.

        “can i kiss you, mouse?” he asks, the question barely audible.

        “i would like that,” you say simply.

        there’s a split second of hesitation, before he’s pulling you into him. his lips are softer than you expected, gently parting to deepen the kiss. you tighten your grasp around his hand, and your other hand snakes around to curl into the hair at the nape of his neck. he presses closer to you, very lightly, as if you’re delicate. you hum against his mouth, your head swimming as you finally force yourself to part ways. the blouse is still halfway undone, forgotten between the two of you. you’re drunk on his presence, wishing you were back in the castle so you could have him all to yourself, for as long as you’d like.

        “we–um, do you want to get out of here?” you suggest, pressing your lips together. the ghost of his mouth against yours is driving you crazy. you feel incomplete without him wrapped around you. you want him touching you, forever.

        “let’s get this off, quick,” he says, nodding. he struggles for another second with the pesky buttons, and then you’re slipping the blouse over your shoulders. remus adverts his gaze, and you can’t help but smile. such a gentleman. you adore him. 

        “is the coast clear?” you wonder, once you’re dressed and ready to go.

        “think we’re all right,” he says. he leads you to the front counter, and generously pays for your new blouse, which he admits he likes very much. 

        “in fact,” he says as you exit the shop, “i think you should wear it again tonight.”

        “really?” you ask, unable to mask the beaming smile on your face. 

        “mhmm,” he agrees, interlacing your fingers as he leads you down the street, in search of the rest of your friends. “actually, i think it’d be quite nice tomorrow night, too… and the night after that, and after that…” he trails, grinning as you smack him playfully on the arm. 

        it seems the rest of the group have been searching for you for a while, lily approaching with an exasperated look on her face.

        “where have you two been?” she asks. 

        “we’ve been looking everywhere,” adds marlene.

        “sorry–” you begin, but you’re cut off by sirius, who takes a step closer to peer at the two of you.

       “why have you got that look on your face, moony?” he narrows his gaze at remus, who shrugs. “and you–” he turns to you “--your lips are all swollen. oh! merlin, you’ve been off swapping saliva haven’t you?” he makes a very long, exaggerated gagging noise to which james offers loud laughter.

        “oh, shut up, sirius,” you mutter, shoving him as you begin your walk back to the castle. “you’re just mad that no one’s offered to swap saliva with you.”

[horizontwinflames]

Horizon AU: Twin Flames - Isaac (Zero Dawn Act) final concept/design.

*texts' transcriptions under the cut after the images*

REPOST, EDIT/USE OR FEED MY ART TO AI ISN'T ALLOWED

Read about Aloy, Beta and Elisabet in this AU [here]

omg... I thought I would never finish this... BUT YAY! Here it is finally! Isaac's final design and concepts!

This AU has an ongoing fanfic! You can read on Ao3: [LINK]

Text transcription:

First image:

Isaac - Roughly 3.2m/10.4' -Unknown age (probably just a few months).

Isaac is an original machine character in this alternative universe.

Isaac is the loyal machine companion of the Sobeck family, serving as both a traveling and battle mount. The sisters unintentionally created him while trying to figure out a way to increase the machine override time. The process they applied in the -back then- simple Watcher rebooted their AI and programming back to its essential functions and disconnected them from their original master, HEPHAESTUS. Once he received his name from Beta, the three family members became his new masters, which he unthinkingly obey to.

Due to his blank AI, Isaac is developing his own sentience and personality by absorbing his masters’ traits and behaviors and learning their morals and concepts. He also downloaded all of the sisters’ Focuses’ data to have some initial communication and works as a backup, so he only knows what they know.

He can speak with anyone with a Focus through its text-to-speech function by sending text messages to them - thus, people who don’t have a Focus only hear his Watcher noises. He can still communicate with other machines normally, so he also works as an information gatherer to help in missions and studies.

Second image:

Once a simple Watcher, now a super advanced mount and best friend of the Sobeck family.

Isaac's customizable body can adapt him to travel in any terrain, even underwater. He's able to reach high speeds at a low energy and heating cost - he's also lighter than it seems. His sleek, almost snake-ish, body shape makes maneuvering more dynamic for his rider.

His propulsors give him the ability to do long leaps and high jumps, helping the sisters get to places they wouldn't be able to reach by themselves. But a repetitive use of said skills in a short timespan can drain his energy and overheat him quickly.

Like his owners, he's not adept at using one single type of weapon. Isaac's tail ranged weapons and armor can be changed to better adapt to the situation. However, he hasn't developed efficient battle techniques yet, as he's still learning with the Sobecks. Note that his Sawtooth's sabers aren't intended to be used to fight but to climb and carry objects.

Melee Tail Weapons: Thunderjaw's tail, Stalker's tail blade, Stormbird's tail (also used to swim), Frostclaw's front paws.

Ranged Weapons: Thunderjaw's Disk Launcher, Ravager's Cannon, Scorcher's Mine Launcher, Bellowback's Snout.

Armors: Nora (stealth), Carja (speed), Oseran (tank), Banuk (damage), Old World (mixed).

Isaac is a mount adapted for two people: One is the rider, and the other is the cannoneer. He syncs with them through their Focuses, so his responses to their commands are more instantaneous. The rider directs Isaac where to go and when and how to use the tail weapon. Meanwhile, the cannoneer controls the ranged weapons and propulsors.

Only those who have a Focus can see his holographic face. The images shown are a collection of emojis the sisters found in Old World Ruins (which they update when they find more). His three "horns" also can move solemnly to make him more expressive.

Being composed of many different machine parts makes Isaac the first machine chimera to exist - still keeping the base shape of a Watcher, but huge. He was customized by the Sobecks little by little through the Cauldrons they visited on their first journey.

He can still stretch his neck like a Watcher can normally do.

His eye received enhancements to better aid the Sobecks in their daily life and journeys - such as infrared, thermic, and ultrasound visions.

He also has in his head a sound device to play audio files, such as music from the Old World, and a holoprojector.

[thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos]

Bayverse Thoughts sfw

You answer your phone to the sound of Leo’s hushed, pained voice coming over the receiver.

“I’m coming over.”

“Ah- what?”

You’re stunned completely for a moment at the thought that he’s finally, maybe actually going to -

And that’s when you hear it.

Mikey’s off key singing cuts through from the other side of the phone, crooning a rendition of Tom Jones’ What’s New Pussycat. You can hear his brother’s shouts as Mikey continues, laughing hysterically through the words as loud crashes follow.

Leo groans quietly, and you can picture him rubbing the bridge of his snout. “Help me.”

With a soft chuckle you rise from your spot on the couch, moving to grab the menu from his favorite Chinese restaurant off its clipped magnet on your fridge.

“I’ll see you in ten minutes.”

Laughing at myself as I wrote Mikey smut on discord today and then give tumblr this lil goofy thing

Taggin: @thelaundrybitch @sophiacloud28 @the-cauldron-witch @gornackeaterofworlds @xnorthstar3x @zombiesnips-blog @4evrdreamin5 @pheradream-15 @iridescentflamingo @scholastic-dragon @redsrooftopprincess

[sweetbonniebel]

Jaes's hen jēdar

God's of the sky

Ten

Daemon x reader

Synopsis: A time skip!

Masterlist <-previous , next->

122 AC Blackfyre, Stepstones

"You must push your highness!" The midwife exclaimed looking between your legs.

"I know I have to fucking push!" You screamed in anger as you crushed your husbands hand in pain.

"I can see the head!" Annora said patting down your forehead. You groaned as you felt another contraction, you screamed in pain as you pushed with all your might.

The screeches of Vermithor were heard through the island as he circled the castle sensing your pain.

"Fuck!" You screamed squeezing your muscles to deliver the child. The cries of a babe were heard, you sighed in relief thanking that the hardest part was over.

"A healthy boy your highness!" Annora said happily, the midwife cut the cord and handed you the kicking babe.

"Another boy?" You whispered pressing your son against your breast.

"You did great, my love." Daemon said kissing your sweaty forehead. "What shall we name him?"

The newborn babe opened his large eyes to reveal one violet eye one green. "Aerion" You said seeing the wisps of silver gold hair on his little head

"A fine name your highness." Maester Roland approved as he watched the newborn prince. The chambers were opened, Rhaenyra, Laenor and their children entered followed by your children Darren, Nymor, Baelon and Vhaenor, Aegon entered last.

"A boy?" Rhaenyra asked glancing at the babe you nodded handing her the infant.

"It seems that the gods do not want me to have daughters" You laughed as your sons curiously watched the babe. Baelon four sat at your side and Vhaenor two, crawled into Daemon's lap.

The realm rejoiced at the news of another prince named Aerion Targaryen, your third child with Daemon.

As soon as your legs allowed you, you took your sons to the Dragonbone where the dragons Vermithor, Silverwing, Caraxes, Moondancer and Sunfyre resided. Aerion in bundles slept comfortably in your arms as his brothers followed you. The dragon keepers welcomed you and your children with open arms.

"The news are great your highness." Joqar the elder dragon keeper said.

"What is it Joqar?" You asked

"Silverwing has laid a clutch of eggs! Five big eggs!" He said happily.

"Where is she?" You asked and searched for Silverwing and your bonded dragon that often coiled with the silver she-dragon.

You limped towards the bronze fury with Aerion in your arms, the dragon expelled a fume of smoke as he examined the babe. Silverwing laid beside him. You knew that Vermithor fathered the eggs that Silverwing laid, it was as if on instinct. Rhaena must be very proud.

"You have laid eggs for my sons..." You whispered pressing your forehead against his scaly snout. "Thank you" The dragon purred, Aerion grabbed one of Vermithor's horns and laughed gleefully.

"Where are the eggs?" You asked the elder dragonkeeper as you left the caves with your sons, they brought the eggs in a cauldron filled with hot rocks. Red with spare orange scales, green with purple swirls, white with gold shimmer, a pink one with black streaks, one of the colour of rust covered in black spots. "Call for Rhaena" You ordered knowing that the eggs belonged to Rhaena's dragon. Your sons observed the eggs curiously.

"Step-mother!" Rhaena said gleefully jumping from her horse. You kissed her dreaded hair and ushered her in the direction where the eggs resided.

"Silverwing has laid a clutch of eggs" You said showing her Silverwing's and Vermithor's clutch. She stared with sparkles in her eyes at the various eggs. "With your permission I would like to give them to your brothers."

"Of course, I assume the eggs are also Vermithor's. Therefore they also belong to you, step-mother." Rhaena said.

"That is very kind of you, Rhaena." You answered.

"Rhae!" Baelon pulled his half-sisters skirts, taking her attention.

"What is it?" She kneeled next to the four year old.

"Can I have egg?" He babbled pointing his little hand at the cauldron. The girl smiled and picked him up letting him see the eggs.

"Go on love, which one?" You caressed Baelon's silver hair. Your son stayed silent for a moment, observing the scaly objects. He pointed at the green egg, you kissed his chubby cheek.

"A fine egg Baelon." Rhaena said.

The dragon keepers transferred the green and purple egg to another bassinet.

"Place it in the princes room." You ordered the Dragonkeeper. "Come along now, we have to tell your father the good news."

"What of the other four?" Your step-daughter asked.

"They will Vhaenor's, Aerion's and any of the future children I might have." You responded glancing at the eggs before you. "Rhaena, which one should be Vhaenor's?"

She hummed and pointed at the red egg, you nodded. The infant in your arms begun to fuss, Aerion gurgled displeased.

"I think he is angry we forgot about him." You chuckled and swayed the babe in your arms. The white and gold egg called to you, you gently placed your palm on it and glanced at your son. A small smile made its way on his red face. "This one will be for Aerion."

...

"I have heard the news! Five eggs! Five!" Daemon exclaimed happily as he entered the nursery, your sons played on the floor, their eggs in their cradles.

"Silverwing and Vermithor laid them for our children." You spoke as your husband kissed your lips and placed a kiss upon little Aerion's blonde wisps of hair.

"My mother Alyssa had the same eyes as our son." Daemon said caressing Aerion's hair and looking at his round face and eyes. He moved to his second son and picked him up.

"Hm." Daemon hummed and placed Vhaenor in his cradle along with the red and orange egg. His large palm grazed the scaly surface. "It is hot."

"It shall hatch soon then." You answered walking towards the crib that belonged to Aerion, his own white egg with golden streaks laid comfortably against the pillows. As you placed your son he immediately clutched onto the egg. You watched him with happiness spread on your features.

"What of the other eggs?" Daemon asked.

"They are in Dragonbone, the keepers are taking care of them." You answered, your husband pressed his forehead against yours.

"Do you think they'll hatch?" He questioned.

"I think they will, sooner or later."

...

"Mother!" Baelon ran into your chambers a wide grin on his chubby cheeks, he jumped on the bed startling you and waking you up from slumber.

"Baelon it is night, whatever it is can wait until sunrise." You said turning in your bed hoping your son will let you sleep. Aerion taking much of your strength these days.

"No mama! Egg!" Vhaenor appeared and exclaimed jumping onto his father who slept soundly on your left.

"What of the eggs?" Daemon awoke and asked mindlessly his son.

"Dragon!" Baelon's words awoke you from your slumber for good, your husband took Vhaenor into his arms and rushed to his nursery.

Before opening the doors you could hear the familiar screeching of newly hatched dragons. Vhaenor bounced excitedly in his fathers arms as you enter the nursery.

Three baby dragons flied through the chambers knocking off the candles, books and toys of the shelves. Vhaenor freed himself of his father's grip and the red dragon landed in his arms. Your husband stared at you in amusement. Baelon stood next to you and observed his younger brothers.

Vhaenor sat on the carpet as he stared at the ceiling as his bonded dragon circled above. A small red dragon with membranes and horns of a lighter red colour. Aerion giggled as his own white dragon with a golden belly chirped and screeched above him. Another one, landed on Baelon's head chirping happily.

"God's be good." You whispered to yourself seeing the three new dragons wreak havoc in the nursery.

"Can I name?" Baelon asked with his green dragon that possessed purple eyes. The little green creature sat on his shoulder staring into your eyes.

"It is your dragon, it is only fitting." You whispered kneeling next to your son.

"Aegarax!" He said proudly, the red lizard jumped from Baelon to you. It purred and chafed himself on you, drowning you in his scent.

"Creator of the first dragon.. A great name dearest." You said, gently touching Aegarax. He screeched but let you pet his snout.

"What of the other two?" Daemon asked glancing at the remaining hatchlings.

"Aerion what do you think?" You asked your four month old son he chortled and clapped his hands. Too young to understand.

"Perhaps we should wait until he is old enough to name it himself" Daemon said pressing his hand against the white and gold hatchling.

You wondered if the rest of the eggs hatched, if three already did it is most likely.

"We shall take them to Dragonbone." You husband said, your brows furrowed.

"No." You denied Daemons plan. "Until they are small enough, they will stay here with their bonded riders."

Your son's cheered and occupied themselves with their new companions.

...

You laid in your bed cradling Aerion to your breast, his hatchling chirped happily as he sat on your shoulder. Darren entered your chambers a sword in hand.

"Good morrow mother." He approached and pressed a kiss to you cheek and gently ruffled Aerion's hair. Darren grew quickly, at two and ten he was almost your height.

"How was your training?" You asked patting the empty space next to you.

"Daemon is ruthless." He answered "But a good teacher."

You chuckled at your son's opinion on his step-father.

"And where is Aegon, you have lessons together." You inquired. Your nephew and son were attached at the hip, they shared lessons, meals and their free time.

"He went to the Dragonbone with Baelon." Darren mused sinking his teeth in a fig.

"You didn't want to accompany them? I remember how eager you were to visit Vermithor with me." Your youngest son unlatched from your breast and chortled.

"That was back home, mother. Now not a day goes by where I don't see a dragon." The violet eyed boy answered.

"That is true, I suppose... But now I wish to go the Dragonbone and you and your siblings will accompany me." You ordered fixing your dress and swaddling Aerion, the baby dragon refused to leave his tiny humans side.

Darren took his youngest sibling from your arms, cooing at the happy baby. Nymor was in the training grounds practicing with your husband, Vhaenor was playing with wooden soldiers and dragons as Annora watched over him.

"Husband, I must steal my son away from his training." You approached Daemon, he has barely broken a sweat. Dressed in black pants and a red shirt he looked quite handsome.

"Whatever for, dear wife? I cannot simply let our son end his training early because of your whim." He answered, his tone filled with jest. You chuckled and pressed your lips together.

"I am taking our children to the Dragonbone, it seems that Aegon has already kidnapped our eldest."

"I shall join you then."

...

The two unbonded hatchlings sreeched circling their scaly siblings. The tall ceiling of the volcano allowed them to fly freely.

You saw as Aegon held Baelon in his arms, introducing him to Sunfyre.

"Kidnapping a prince is a grave crime, Aegon." You jested approaching the ten and five year old boy.

"Mother!" Baelon wiggled in Aegon's grasp extending his arms towards you.

"I am also a prince, therefore not a crime." He countered and leaned into your touch as you pressed a kiss to his braided hair.

"How is Sunfyre doing?" You asked glancing at the dragon before you.

"Quite well, however the hatchings like to pick on him and he gets irritated." You laughed and Sunfyre screeched unhappily.

You left your children in the care of your husband, walking into the depths of the volcano. The familiar path that led you to your mount was engraved in your mind.

The bronze fury laid comfortably in his lair, spare bonzes scattered though the space. You approached the old dragon, he huffed as he turned to face you. He blew smoke from his nostrils, the smell of sulphur and coal filled your senses.

"Hello, old boy." You said and scratched the scales under his bull like jaw, he leaned into your touch and purred. "I am sorry we have not flown in a while, being a mother is tiresome." You said and sat leaning on his ribs. His tails wrapped itself around you, protecting your form. You begun the hum and old nursery rhyme, the heat of his scales brought comfort to your sore body.

So many things changed since your wedding with Daemon, you bore three children Baelon, Vhaenar and Aerion. The Stepstones became your new home, castle Bloodfyre was nearly finished thanks to dragon fire. Your sons Derran and Nymor travelled between Sunspear and Bloodstone as they wished. Baela and Rhaena lived with you, sometimes visiting Driftmark on Moondancer and Silverwing. Rhaenyra lived with her children and court on Dragonstone, sometimes visiting on Syrax.

Aegon was turning six and ten soon, which meant he could return to King's Landing, if he wished. You didn't know if you could let him go after so long. He was like your son and Derran wouldn't bear it if he left.

"What are you thinking about?" Aegon entered the cave. You stared at him with fondness in your eyes.

„I was thinking about you.” You answered patting the floor next to you for Aegon to sit.

„Me?” The Prince curiously shot back „Have I done something?”

„No,no Aegon. You didn’t do anything wrong, it’s just that you are turning into a man soon.”

„So?”

„It means that you will have to return to King’s Landing.” You barely said the words, your throat closing up.

„I- I don’t have to, right?”

„Your mother will except you to come ba-„

„She’s not my mother!” He raised his voice „You have raised me for the past decade, I don’t have any ties with that woman.”

„Aegon, as much as I and Derran want you here there are some things I cannot control. Your wardship is coming to an end and there is not much I can do. Especially since your grandsire is now hand.”

„So what? You’re the King’s sister.”

„And you’re his son.”

„I don’t want to go.”

„I know Aegon.” You wrapped your arms around his body. Bringing him some comfort. „If you wish I can go with you to King’s Landing. I can stay with you for some time. It has been a while since I saw my brother.”

„I would like that.”

…

„Your highness!” Maester Roland clutched his grey robes as he approached you.

„What is it?” You questioned turning around.

„A letter from princess Rhaenyra.” He handed you to scroll, the black wax of the Targaryen sigil bonded the parchment. You broke the seal and quickly read the letter.

Laenor Velaryon is dead.

You slapped your hand on your mouth as you read the news. Maester Roland stared with worry etched on his aged features.

„Your highness, are you all right?” He questioned.

„I am all right, Roland.” You answered „My niece’s husband is dead. There is to be a funereal on Driftmark.”

„I am very sorry to hear that.”

„I must find my husband, if you’ll excuse me.” You said and turned on your heel, searching for Daemon.

You entered the nursery, your children and husband playing with wooden soldier on the ground.

„Mommy!” Your sons abandoned their toys and ran into your skirts.

„Hello, my loves.” You kissed both of their heads „Go back to playing, I need to borrow your father.”

Baelon and Vhaenor nodded their little heads and resumed playing, their hatchlings squabbling with themselves.

„What has happened, my love?” Daemon questioned, standing up from the ground. He placed his palms on your hips and pressing a kiss to your lips.

„Laenor Velaryon is dead.”

He raised his thin silver brows.

„How?”

„Killed in Spicetown by his paramour.” You replied leaning into his touch „We shall fly to Driftmark at once.”

…

It is rather uncommon for a dragon to lay as much as five eggs at once. Not including the fact that all of the eggs hatched. The three princes bonded with the hatchling immediately, it is knows for dragons to be protective and aggressive for their riders. That rule did not apply to Princess y/n, every dragon she met has never dared to attack her. - From the dragon bringer by the feather and quill of Grand Maester Roland.

For anyone confused here are the ages:

Derran 14 Nymor 12

Baelon 4 Vhaenar 2 Aerion four months

Baela 14 Rhaena 14

Jace 13 Luke 11 Joffrey 6

Aegon 16 Helaena 15 Aemond 14

[viktoriaashleyyx]

Bad Kitty

Cannon adjacent (I didn't read ACOFAS, I'm piecing together what I know) Tamcien one-shot following the Solstice party.

The one is a little Tamlin critical, this follows Lucien mainly and him struggling with finding his place. 3rd person POV.

No tw, mostly angst (?) But Tam is in beast form for all of this. Still cute though.

EDIT: It has been brought to my attention that this needs a TW: alcohol. Lucien reaches for the bottle when depressed. Please always feel free to lmk when I miss a trigger and I will correct it ❤️

A taglist no one asked for: @yaralulu @samhatch @almostferaldaydreamer @historygirl93 @shi-daisy @matrixsss but it's yalls fault this exists.

Word count: 1260

After the particularly torturous Solstice party at Feyre’s new River house, Lucien settled into the guest bedroom and poured himself a shot of the bourbon left out on the dresser. As he downed the shot he struggled with his feelings of hopelessness and uncertainty. Elain didn’t even look at me, Feyre only spoke to belittle me, what am I even doing here? I’m not wanted here. With the door locked behind him, he sat on the edge of the large guest bed and buried his face in his hands. Cauldron, where do I belong? 

Considering his strained relationship with Tamlin, inability to return to Autumn, to the Gods I just want my Moms embrace right now, the only companionship he found was in his human friends, Vassa and Jurian. It wasn’t sustainable, they had mere decades at best, such a short time for an immortal like himself. He took another shot and undressed himself to climb into bed, he wanted nothing more than for this day to be over. 

But sleep didn't find him. He tossed and turned and tried to kill the bad thoughts as they slipped through but nothing worked. Just as he began to drift off to sleep, he felt something along the bond. Elain? His hope made him jump up, anything from the bond grabbed his attention quickly. Every sense he had perked up, trying to decipher what was being communicated. Arousal. She was sharing an intimate moment with that illyrian brute. “Fuck this, nope. I'm not staying here.” Lucien mumbled audibly, as he shot out of bed and pulled his clothes on. He didn’t yet know where he was going, just anywhere but here. He grabbed the few things he brought with him and winnowed away, far. 

He appeared in front of the Spring Court manor. It was dilapidated and ransacked but still better than whatever-the-fuck was going on at the River house. With Tamlin in his pissy tantrum mood it was likely the Manor was empty anyway. 

Lucien pulled out his key and headed towards the front door, and chuckled as the door fell right off its hinges with the slightest push. As he entered the foyer he was met with familiar glowing green eyes and a threatening growl. Lucien was exhausted and unfazed. He took one of the papers he was holding under his arm, rolled it up and smacked it against Tamlin’s snout. “I'm not in the mood, Tam. We can fight again in the morning, right now I just want to sleep.” Lucien blearily mumbled. Tamlin was shocked by the display, stunned even, but he slowly moved out of the way and Lucien returned to his old room. 

Tamlin felt terrible about their earlier fight, he missed Lucien. As everything fell, his entire court reduced to ruin, it was losing Lucien that hurt him the most. His best friend. Centuries of banter, hell and heartbreak, they had survived countless curses, battles, and betrayals together and it was all destroyed within a year. Lucien was truly his best friend, if only Tamlin could muster the strength to say that out loud.

Tamlin creeped up the stairs behind Lucien and found him in his room, brushing the debris off his bed. With the little magic Tamlin had left, he waved his paw and restored Lucien's room to pristine condition. Lucien looked back at Tamlin and gave him a quick thankful nod before shutting the door and climbing into bed. Tamlin curled up on the floor outside, guarding Lucien's door, he couldn’t take back what happened earlier, but he could still protect him from any further harm. 

♥♥♥♥♥

The next morning, Lucien began sorting through his things, recalling old memories and trying to decide what to do next. The obvious move was to Vassa and Jurian, they were always welcoming, but the human lands didn’t truly feel like home. Spring was his home. Autumn used to be. Was this another time where he would have to adjust and let his old life die? Or, could he and Tamlin possibly make it work? Did he want to keep putting in the effort to clean up Tamlins mess, with the solid possibility that Tamlin wouldn’t help? He knew Tamlin was broken, most of it his own fault, but he knew Tamlin was good at heart. He knew Tamlin better than anyone else. Emotionally stunted? Yes, Evil? No. But on the other hand, Lucien was tired. So, tired. Lucien needed someone to care for him too. 

As Lucien opened his door he found Tamlin still asleep in beast form, snoring loudly. Lucien had grown to find Tam quite adorable this way. He smiled to himself, sat down next to the big kitty and began stroking the fur on his chest, softly. Lucien silently mourned the friendship they once had, could they get it back? 

Tamlin woke from the first restful sleep he had in months, to Lucien's soft touch. He nuzzled his big beastly head into Lucien's lap and a tear or two fell from Lucien's eyes. Lucien smiled through the tears looking down at the only family he’d ever truly had. “We’re a fucking mess, aren’t we?” he chuckled to Tamlin. Tamlin was just happy to have Lucien home. Everything else could be figured out later, but they were together now. Tamlin rolled onto his back and Lucien scratched his belly. 

♥♥♥♥♥

Lucien began accessing the damage while Tamlin zoomed around he manor, bouncing and happy like a giant dog. He would bring Lucien little trinkets he remembered made Lucien happy. A doll, given to Lucien by a Spring child a century ago on the equinox festival, a tooth harvested from the corpse of the first Naga Lucien killed after Tamlin took him in, and a framed painting of the Tulip fields Lucien had dreamed of visiting on the continent. Lucien held each one as presented to him while Tamlin looked up at him hoping to catch every smile that graced Lucien's still somber face. Tamlin’s tail wagged.   

“You know, at some point, you are going to have to shift back into a fae and help me clean up this mess if I am going to stay.” Lucien scolded lightly, Stay. He's considering staying, the thought alone, just the possibility made Tamlin’s heart happy. There’s a chance he will get his best friend back!    

Lucien slowly strolled over to the hidden cupboard where Tamlin kept the good wine. Tamlin watched him intensely. Lucien pulled out a bottle of Tamlins favorite wine and an unbroken glass and poured him some. Tamlin narrowed his eyes slightly, he hadn’t had wine since before the war, and here Lucien was, taunting him with it. Lucien fell back into the couch setting the bottle on the floor next to him, glass in the other hand, he knew what he was doing. 

Just a sniff, Tamlin thought, entranced by just the thought of the sweet red wine. He crept closer to Lucien, and slowly lifted his nose to Lucien's glass, but Lucien grabbed him by the snout and pushed him away. “I don’t share wine with beasts.” Lucien taunted.  

Tamlin pouted, he wasn’t yet ready to turn back into a fae, but Lucien sure was making a good case for it. Tamlin strolled to the other side of the couch and placed his paws on the soft velvet. A big kitty stretch, with his claws out in protest. It tore through the fabric and Lucien lost it.

“I love you but for the LOVE OF THE MOTHER STOP SCRATCHING UP THE FURNITURE.” 

[pjo-tvs-version]

Okay so, I wrote a fanfic for the first time! It's Annabeth's pov of the Mt. St. Helens kiss!

You kiss me and it stops time

The air was hot and my hands were greasy from the sweat and grime of Mt. St. Helens. I sat, invisible obviously, trying to decipher what exactly those dog faced stubby footed and half flippered beings were doing. Telekhines, I was sure was the name of these creatures, were hammering something that looked like a blade. As I paid a little more attention, there was a huge container with a glistening liquid. I wondered what it was just when I heard someone shouting “Annabeth” and the sound of running footsteps.

Seaweed Brain of course it has to be. From the look on his face and the desperation in his voice, I figured out that something most probably had gone terribly wrong. Nothing surprising though, I got used to it after the quest for Zeus’ lightning bolt. It was one of the first few things a demigod learns. On a mission everytime everything goes wrong. A sense of irritation arose in me. Why was Percy being an idiot by just giving away our presence?

In an attempt to shut him up, I clamped his mouth with one hand and tackled him with the other hand behind the huge cauldron. All this time I forgot that I was actually invisible so I deduced that Percy most probably would have been a little shocked when an invisible being just wrestled him. He reached up, trying to find my Yankees cap most probably to find me. That was an extremely dumb thing for him to do- giving away both of us. As he removed my cap, I shimmered into existence no doubt with a scowl adorning on my face. How can this boy be this stupid?

“We're going to have company,” Percy said. He breathlessly summarised his side of the story. The Telekhines were blabbering through their snouts. We peeked over the cauldron. In the centre of the platform stood four sea demons, but these were fully grown, at least eight feet tall. Their black skin glistened in the firelight as they worked, sparks flying as they took turns hammering on a long piece of glowing hot metal.

“The blade is almost complete,” one said. “It needs another cooling in blood to fuse the metals.” “Aye,” a second said. “It shall be even sharper than before.”

“What is it?” Percy whispered. I shook my head. “They keep talking about fusing metals. I wonder—” I was thinking out loud, a distant myth tugging in my memory. “They were talking about the greatest Titan weapon,” Percy said. “And they…they said they made my father’s trident.”

Then it clicked. Of course I remembered exactly what I read about them. “The Telekhines betrayed the gods,” I said. “They were practising dark magic. I don’t know what, exactly, but Zeus banished them to Tartarus.” “With Kronos,” Percy added. A chill suddenly entered into the air amidst the heat of the forge at the name of The Lord of Time. I nodded my head, “We have to get out-.”

No sooner had I even uttered the obvious than the door to the classroom exploded and young Telekhines came pouring out. They stumbled over each other, trying to figure out which way to charge. We were in serious danger now because there were too many for me and Percy to take down. A familiar desperation was creeping in me when Percy shouted “Put your cap back on, Get out.” Just then I realised what he was intending to do - giving me a chance to escape by sacrificing himself. Curse his fatal flaw of loyalty.

“I’ve got a plan. I’ll distract them. You can use the metal spider—maybe it’ll lead you back to Hephaestus. You have to tell him what’s going on.” he tried to reassure me.

A plan? With the fear in his sea green eyes and lines of his forehead I was sure that it was a plain lie. I was not going to have any of this. How could he expect me to just leave him like that? Helplessly, I tried to knock some sense into his head of kelp.

“But you’ll be killed!” “I’ll be fine. Besides, we’ve got no choice.” Percy replied, pushing me. I glared at him, the same glare I used to win any argument against him. Each time I won and he backed down. But as I stared at his face, I was met with a determined pair of eyes daring me. As I miserably understand the odds of the mess we were in, curse my Athena heritage for that. I realise that Percy’s “plan” is the only option possible. Someone has to get to Hephaestus to tell him about the illegal residents of his forge. I registered his face. I stared into his sea green eyes, reflecting the ocean and his jet black tousled hair.

My feelings overwhelm me and I hear Janus’ foreboding words “Choose, Annabeth.” I guess because of literally everything around me and especially the beautiful face in front of me,I did something so impulsive that I couldn't even believe I did it. Before I even knew what I was doing, I grabbed Percy’s shirt and leaned forward. His breath hitched and our lips met. The heat, grime, sweat and even those wretched Telekhines disappeared for a moment. Our eyelids fluttered against each other and my eyes were shut. I pressed against his lips and oh gods was I melting.

I tried to put everything I didn't say to him, everything I ever wanted to say to him in thatone kiss. Please don’t die now because of me, please don’t die because of the Great Prophecy.His lips were salty and I ran my hands through his messy hair.

I pulled away, knowing that I should not be endangering our lives because of my unreciprocated feelings. He didn't do anything and I had a feeling that what I did was something he perhaps wouldn't have appreciated. Why, oh why, does a little part of me imagine that he too leaned in just at the second I pulled away? I was blushing for sure and my cheeks were heating up. I pulled up my invisibility cap to shield myself from the embarrassment.

“Be careful Seaweed Brain” I managed to choke out the words and I ran. But not without looking back to see his face wide open, gaping as in amazement. It lit a little glimmer of hope in me. Maybe, just maybe, he liked me too.

The metal spider was bolting into the tunnels. I sped behind it as I could afford to lose it from my sight. My heart was a bag of jumbled emotions and my brain was overwhelmed by my many thoughts. I continue to sprint, tears running down my cheeks knowing that I sealed Percy’s fate. It was my fault that I took him in this quest knowing the prophecy’s last line. It was my fault that I left him with the Telekhines knowing that they would kill him. However I hug a little tiny string of hope that he will survive now and beyond the age of sixteen too.

Just then I hear a scream. A horrible, reverberant, bloodcurdling scream. Percy’s pain and desperation was very much present and that one terrifying scream caused that little string to tear. Percy would die because of me. He would leave me as everyone has, leave me all on my own. I forced myself to run behind the spider even when my knees threatened to crash to the ground. I couldn't let Percy’s sacrifice go to waste. I continue running into the baleful labyrinth, engulfing me with its darkness.

Hope you enjoyed! It is my first fic so please be gentle. I couldn't have done it without @helpallthenamesaretakenblog assurances and @percabethlvr editing! Positive criticism is very much appreciated. The title is from the song, Say Don't Go by none other than Taylor Swift. Thank you so much!!! ❤❤❤

Also on AO3: You kiss me and it stops time

[kiwiplaetzchen]

[Polyjuice Swap 2024!]

(Thank you @lil-grem-draws for being the mad genius behind this very special event!)

── ⋆⋅🎃⋅⋆ ─☆:⭑🍂🍁🦇🍁🍂⭑:☆─ ⋆⋅🎃⋅⋆ ──

── ⋆⋅🎃⋅⋆ ─☆:⭑🍂🍁🦇🍁🍂⭑:☆─ ⋆⋅🎃⋅⋆ ──

Nosy scurried beneath the countless feet scattered through the grand ballroom, slipping between shoes and robes like the stealthy menace he was. What had Will been thinking, trying to exclude Nosy from this event? Babbling on about how it "wouldn’t be safe" for the little Niffler - pfft. As if that was going to stop Nosy. Please. With so many sweets and shiny treasures gathered in one spot, how could he possibly miss this opportunity? This was a dream come true! Sebastian would surely be proud when he saw all the bounty Nosy planned to bring back home!

On the other side of the room, Nosy noticed a small commotion. A group of a group of magic stick wavers clustered together, muttering with evident irritation. Nosy tilted his head in curiosity. With all that distraction, surely nobody would notice if a small Niffler would squeeze his sneaky paws into one or two pockets... or nine.

With a determined flick of his tail, Nosy waddled over to the group as he slipped unnoticed among the distracted students. But before he could start his pilfering spree, something even more intriguing caught the Niffler’s eye. A door. Closed, and apparently of great interest, seeing how everyone seemed eager to enter. His curiosity burning to find out what was behind that entrance, Nosy seized the moment and squeezed himself through the tiny slit under the door. Easy.

With a proud huff, Nosy wriggled out on the other side, fluffing his teal fur triumphantly. Who needed a diet now, huh? Not Nosy. Nosy was smooth and sleek, thank you very much.

He quickly ducked under a nearby stool and took in his surroundings. The room was small and rather empty. There wasn’t much to note - another door on the other side, a dull, boring mirror (but Nosy already knew he was quite the looker), an old, dusty coat hanger, an overturned bucket, an empty high shelf, and one of those big black brewing pots bubbling quietly on the floor Sebastian explicitly told him to stay away from. Boring. Nosy let out an outraged honk. There was nothing in this damn room! Why did everybody want to enter such a boring room?? The little Niffler felt utterly cheated, his little nose twitching in annoyance. What was all the fuss about?

Pouting, the Niffler gave the room a scathing look and turned back to the cauldron, where a dimly shiny object caught his eye. With a hopeful squeak, Nosy waddled closer, only to find a plain old cup with a smattering of leftover broth. How disappointing. Nosy sighed. Seemed like someone had fled their meal in a hurry. Nosy shook his head. The pretty Prefect would never tolerate such waste of food. Tz tz. With a sideways glance, Nosy considered giving the abandoned broth a taste test. After all, it would indeed be a waste...

Curiosity getting the best of him, he stuck his snout into the cup and took a tentative slurp. It tasted strange. Like a mix of the blond dork’s stupid belt and broccoli - a veggie Nosy secretly enjoyed. Not that he would ever admit that to ANYONE.

Satisfied, the little menace sat beside the cup with a small, satisfied burp, licking his beak. Hmm, chunky.

But suddenly, a strange feeling crept through Nosy’s body. His beautiful fur bristled, and he started to shiver. His little belly making noises it had never made before, and his teal fluff was standing on end as a wave of discomfort rolled through him. The little menace squeaked in agony, writhing on the floor. Ow… Nosy honked miserably, crawling towards the door with teary eyes, his little body feeling heavier by the second. Weak squeals escaped his beak as another wave of pain washed over him. Nosy wanted to go home. Back home with Sebastian. Nosy had enough. The little menace just wanted to curl up in the hair of his Niffler Papa and be done with this horrid day. Ow…

Lost in agony, the Niffler didn’t even notice the tufts of fur trailing behind him like breadcrumbs until he was almost completely lacking his precious teal coat on the bottom half of his little body. Only, it didn't seem like his body was still that small. Nosy was growing centimetre by centimetre, his frame stretching and transforming with each passing second.

By the time the pain stopped, Nosy felt much larger than before, and the ground seemed so strangely far, far away. Why? What happened?

He glanced down in horror. Were these his paws? They were long and furless - no claws, no beautiful fur. WHAT HAPPENED TO HIS CLAWS? WHERE WAS HIS PRETTY NIFFLER FLUFF? HIS BEAUTIFUL TEAL COAT? Nosy let out a terrified honk, but the sound that escaped him didn’t sound like his honk at all. He sounded like a goose on the loose! This was not Nosy’s voice! WAS NOSY A DAMN FOWL NOW!? The Niffler's eyes fell to his chest. Jiggly, flubby, fleshy udders that looked horrifically out of place. And... nips? NIPS? ON NOSY?? AND WHERE WAS HIS BELLY POUCH?? The Niffler screechingly honked in pure horror, the sound echoing through the room as he rolled frantically on the floor, desperate to shake off this wrong skin, this awful new form.

With growing dread, he noticed the long, red hair draped over his shoulder. WRONG COLOUR! This was not the body of the Teal King! What had happened to him? Another panicked honk echoed through the empty room as he scrambled to his feet - or whatever these strange limbs were - desperate to escape. Swaying and staggering, his honks still sounding like the wild screech of a blasted birb. In a full-blown frenzy, the panicked Niffler sprinted around the room, wailing and crashing into everything in sight. He knocked over the mirror, toppled the coat hanger, and even sent the cauldron flying as he collided with every wall.

Suddenly, the other door creaked open. A Hufflepuff Prefect poked his head in, eyebrows raised in confusion. “By Merlin’s beard, what happened in here?!”

Nosy didn’t stop to think. He threw himself at the Prefect, knocking him over before storming out of the room. Somehow, he was stronger in this strange form.

Finally, the transformed Niffler burst out into the hallway in a wild cry. Onlookers turned in confusion, muttering to each other, puzzled by the sight of the strange girl with wild red hair, utterly devoid of any clothing, and darted through on all fours. "Was that @theodoradevlin?" some students mumbled.

Another strangled honk escaped Nosy’s lips as he desperately searched the crowd. Where were Sebastian and William? Nothing smelt familiar. His honk, warped by this strange new voice, filled the hall as he dashed away on all fours, hopelessly confused and very, very lost.

This night had gone horribly, horribly wrong.

[lookinghalfacorpse]

cdoomsdaytrio going to the hot springs to have a relaxing bath and both phil and dream lay on techno chest while closing their eyes and enjoying the warm of the water and techno it's resisting the urge to swim like a fish in circles and starting a water fight

you're onto something here

----------

/dsmp /rp warning for description of torture, burns. seems like an odd trigger warning for the prompt but stick with me. flashbacks in italics.

"You want power so fucking bad, man? You want power?" Quackity's voice waivered as though he was on the edge of laughter. "You know the greatest power of all? It's the power of choice, Dream. The power of choice. I'm ready and willing to offer that to you."

Dream clutched his hand. It was still bleeding-- he's been applying pressure for a long, long time, and it was still bleeding. A large slice opened at the base of his ring finger, splaying open layers of flesh. It might've been to the bone. He noticed Sam watching attentively.

A small cauldron of boiling water lay directly between him and Quackity.

"So choose. Lose another finger," Quackity continued, "Or dunk the whole hand in this cauldron. Just a preference thing, really, but it's more than I usually offer you."

Dream felt his head spin. The memory of losing his pinkie finger was still fresh, he could still see the dried blood in the crevices of obsidian that Sam missed--

Dream woke. The steam around him caused a moment of panic, but as soon as he recognized the pink fur his head was laying atop, he knew where he was.

"Kinda rude that you still get nightmares at the hot spring," Techno droned.

While he was mining a few months ago, Technoblade stumbled upon an underground hot spring. Dream didn't even know that underground hot springs could exist, let alone that they were safe to bathe in. He heard stories about boiling, acidic lakes on the surface, and he worried that this would be similar. He waited until both Techno and Philza entered the water before he followed suit, but now they were arranged in a comfortable, warm, sweaty pile. Techno was half-floating with his shoulders rested on a rock wall, Phil was settled on his chest, and Dream was tucked somewhere underneath Phil's wing.

Dream didn't remember falling asleep. He stretched his limbs, finding that he was less sore than he normally was. The warm water must have helped. The burn scars that decorated his left hand had faded; the other, more dramatic and miscolored scars were more visible and drowned them out, in a way. He'd forgotten about that day. They all started to blend together after a while.

Philza was curled next to him, skin-to-skin, legs tangled. He must've drawn closer during the nightmare. He felt Phil's thin fingers threading through his hair.

Techno nudged the tip of his snout into the crook of Dream's neck. "You good?"

"I'm good."

[pixies-and-poets]

Hello everyone!

Super Mario RPG has been in my life for over 15 years, but it wasn't until the remake came out that I gave it significant space in my brain. Both the absolute joy and love that the remake invokes, as well as the renewed fandom around it, have gotten me obsessed with some of these characters like never before.

Even so, I've been a bit hesitant to write or put some of my ideas out there... it's a very old fandom, one in which I feel so many interesting story ideas and philosophical angles to these characters must have already been explored, since the days of forum roleplays and the heyday of sprite comics which I remember from my earliest years online. It makes it somewhat intimidating for me to write down my own ideas for fear of retreading old ground that I didn't even know had been trod. Or perhaps just not being nearly as interesting as fanon that has existed before.

....But I'm also really obsessed and I need to get some stuff out of my brain. So I'm just gonna try some things! For fun!

And therefore I present to you, my first ever SMRPG writing. Let me know if you like it, and there will be more!

PS: the way I'm resolving the name discrepancy between some of the characters mentioned here, is that I take their remake names to be the names Smithy gave them, and their "original" names to be the names they eventually take for themselves. That just feels right to me. But that is not yet relevant to this story.

So, without further ado...

The Forging

This one wasn’t much to look at. Yet.

Smithy had given this project days of nonstop planning and engineering- then hours upon hours of heating, hammering, grinding, polishing, the bright sparks flying ceaselessly in his workshop, the sound of his hammer ringing out like a song on repeat. Everything was calculated to ensure just the right amount of sturdiness and strength while maintaining a lightweight flexibility. The perfect incarnation of a spear.

But what it all amounted to, as far as an untrained eye could see, was an unassuming wire-frame of spindly limbs, attached to a cauldron-like lower belly for some weight. The inert body lay stretched out on the slab like a stick figure, more like the beginning sketch of a piece of art than its end product.

That was alright. It was only the beginning, after all. He still needed details: the flourishes of red that would bring his design to completion, the cape that would serve as the dramatic curtain to cloak his form. More than anything, of course, he needed life. He needed movement.

Of course, he didn’t have a head yet, and that didn’t help matters.

The head alone had taken Smithy a day in itself. But when finished, it was truly a masterpiece. The long and deadly point gleamed in the light of the forge, the very essence of both elegance and danger; below it, the “cheekbones” were two sharp and threatening downward curves, masterfully forged in their grace and symmetry. In between them, the eyes: open and blank. No thoughts stirred them just yet; but soon, there would be more than enough to animate them. This one was to be a thinker, after all.

He heated up the bottom tip once again, just enough so that it glowed, but didn’t melt - and using his tongs, pressed the final touch up inside what looked like the creature’s open snout. The red fibers of the mustache fused and glued themselves to the inner metal. There- the upward-pointing curves that reflected the downward ones above them, the spot of color- now the whole piece was perfection of both craftsmanship and design.

...And it made him look mature. Dignified. Adult. With Bowyer and Claymorton running around, they could certainly use a bit more of that around the place.

Smithy held the head at arm’s length, to admire it for a moment- and then approached the body on the slab. He slotted the head expertly into the joint where the spine arched back into what became a plume, clicking and snapping it into its place; it was meant to be removable, after all.

As he stood back again, the smith noticed that the yellow eyes had closed. Smithy smiled- there had been some reaction; good. He had not failed in his designs. Now his creation slept its primordial sleep, and would awaken when he commanded.

In the meantime, he would work on those final touches. He turned to his workbench to retrieve the accessories that had been created and set aside in advance. He slid and buckled the belt around the creature’s lower body- an unnecessary accoutrement, but a pleasing one. Two red “socks”- really, more like braces, around his ankles, attaching just so, to provide extra cushioning from leaps. And then- well, why not? He picked up the large red plume, which had been-

A scraping and rattling caught Smithy by surprise. He turned quickly, and saw that the Spear was moving his right hand. The skeletal steel fingers, as yet ungloved, scratched at the slab on which they rested. A drumming, a grasping- as if eager.

Suddenly the creature’s entire arm jolted, as if electrified- and his eyes flew open. As Smithy reached his side, the spear-being blinked, looking around groggily- and then he pulled himself up, resting on his elbows, his thin but supple spine curving into a more upright position. He blinked again, and turned his head- the movements of his eyes had already grown restless, darting around the room. They lit on Smithy, still holding the plume, and his eyes widened slightly in surprise.

“Well! You’re here early,” said the blacksmith in amusement. “You aren’t finished yet.” Hungry for life, this one.

The creation pushed himself upwards to a full sitting position. He looked down at his fingers, his shoes, his body… and then back at the other figure in the room.

“Who am I?” were his first words.

Smithy took a moment to respond. In his head, he was reacting to the question, comparing it to the others he had received. “What am I?” Boomer had asked. “Where am I?” was Claymorton’s question. “Who are you?!” was the inquiry from Bowyer, with a nya or two thrown in. And now…

“Your name is Speardovich. You are the sharp and shining spear of my army, who strikes with cleverness and cunning. You are a weapon.”

Feeling a bit silly with the plume in his hands, Smithy took hold of the wire that bent out from behind his creation’s head, and affixed the crest to its place. The activity seemed to startle the newborn being, and when it was done, he shook his head back and forth, feeling out his the new balance. He reached backwards with one of his clawlike hands and ran his fingers through the plume, as one might admire their own luxurious hair. He seemed to like it indeed.

“...What is a weapon?” he asked when he was satisfied with this, looking Smithy in the eyes again, curiously.

“Hmm! Good question.” But this would be easy enough, the blacksmith thought- it was long ago now, but he could still recall the essence of what he had told Boomer.

“A weapon is what we make here- what I make here. My name, by the way, is Smithy- your creator.” He turned back to his table, and came back a moment later with a red glove. He lifted the right wrist of his creation - still limp, weak, confused - and gently slid the hand inside. “Some would say a weapon is an implement designed to cause damage,” he said, as he fitted each finger delicately into its place; surprisingly deft with his own massive hand. “To hurt, to maim, to kill. To destroy.”

He stepped away, and came back with the glove’s left-handed counterpart. “Others would say,” he continued, as he again slid each wiry finger into where it belonged, “That a weapon enables self-defense. To defeat so-called evil, to allow people to live safe and free.”

Finished with the gloving, Smithy held his creation’s smaller hand in his own for just a moment- the one, long-fingered and designed for dexterity, atop the other built for strength. “But either way- a weapon is power. The very idea of power, distilled and manifested into an object. And that, my Speardovich, is what you are. Now- move your hands. Tell me, do those gloves fit well?”

The creation raised his hands, gazing at them, and wiggled and stretched his fingers. He did not answer for a moment.

“So?” prompted the smith. “Is something the matter?”

“I… don’t think it’s the gloves,” said the weapon at last, shaking his head. “It's- it's my hands themselves. They feel… incomplete. They…” he made a grabbing, clutching motion with both of them- he suddenly seemed pitiable, like a child needy for a parent, a role in which Smithy was clearly deficient. “I- I’m sorry, My Lord Smithy. I don’t have the words. I don’t understand-”

“Ah,” said Smithy. “I know what you need. Hold tight.”

He turned yet again to retrieve something, and in a moment returned holding a long rod with a shining steel point at one end. Wrapped near the tip was a bold ribbon of red fabric.

“This is yours,” said the smith. “Of course you yearn for it. It’s part of you.” He stretched out his large hands, presenting the object to his creation.

Said creation’s eyes had grown huge. “My spear,” he said, in awe. He did not need to ask what it was. Not this.

He took it, with desperate swiftness- and closed his eyes. He clutched it across his chest, in both his hands, and something spread across his wiry body, releasing tension he did not even know he had. He did not know the word just yet, but later he would look back and realize it was joy.

Suddenly, in an instinctive movement, he took the spear in his right hand and deftly twirled it, over his head, and to the side of the slab on which he had been born and still sat, pointing it downwards. His eyes opened and he sprang up, his young knees bending like a spring, and he stood upright, pointing and thrusting the spear before him in a series of expert stabs. 

Smithy grinned, giddy and foolish with pride at his work. “Yes!!” he cried. “There you are!! You know who you are, after all!!”

“Indeed,” said Speardovich, looking down from his great height at his creator. His voice had lost the slow, innocent wonder of his early questions- it was now rich and resonant with confidence. “I know who I am.”

“Come down here,” ordered Smithy, and the gangly outline of a figure obeyed, jumping nimbly to the floor. The weaponsmith carried over from the work-table the last accessory, the one that had taken up the vast majority of the space. He took the red-flowing cape and draped it over the back of his newest pride and joy. Speardovich bowed his head, resting the bottom of his spear on the ground, as Smithy proceeded with the cape, buckling the horn-shaped epaulets into the sockets he had forged for them.

“Now, my Spear,” said Smithy, “let us waste no time. I have so much more to tell you- of me, and you, and what you shall do for me. And of course, you will meet your colleagues.”

Speardovich raised himself to his full height- he was taller even than his maker- and hesitated. He tried to suppress his surprise and disappointment- colleagues. Just how many of them were there?? Would they compete for the glory their mutual creator had thus far lavished upon him? Or would they show him the respect and deference he so clearly deserved?

Well, there was only one way to find out- and he would maintain that respect with force, if need be.

He was, after all, a weapon.

“Lead the way, my Lord,” he said with a nod. Then he followed the heavy plod of his creator, his cape and his plume flowing behind him, his spear in his hand, his head held high.

[nuesetine]

Found this AU (dbda mlp au) and had the immediate thought of what if Monty was a dragon. Like he's this "small", cute manned dragon (or wyvern I've been tossing it around) that Esther bought as an egg and never actually tried to teach him anything so his brain is very stunted. He's practically an oversized cat. Most of the time she uses him for the flame postal service and retrieving items, mostly minimal tasks she can’t spend her precious time on; that and using his feathers as an unlimited supply of quills :3. Plus having a fire breathing dragon is good when heating a cauldron.

Esther most of the time has a spell that keeps some chains looped his snout and chained to something moving to partially muzzle him and keep in a confined area. When Charles and Edwin retrieved Becky Aspen they had the strange feeling like they were being watched and Charles swore he could hear the scraping of metal when he was on the case. Making the house’s atmosphere even more unnerving. After they saved Becky, Esther was like, fuck it, and turned him into a pony to get revenge, gotta lure those kids.

Not the most plausible (?) cause like it changes some of the aspects by a lot, but like some goofy probably crack HC. Anyways have some dragon Monty doodles.

[curryfury13]

KHOC Week 2024 Day 7 - Future

We've reached the final day of @khoc-week and it's been such a wonderful whirlwind. Six years it's been going! I can hardly believe it. This prompt helps me look towards the future in my own life as well as Hinata's.

Speaking of Hinata, let's get it!

You may have noticed Hinata wearing a golden locket. It's more than just a simple necklace, it holds her future. Well, more technically it's a recording of a vision of her future.

During "Third Beginning", the Organization began hunting Hinata. Any time she left the mansion the Organization or a bounty hunter were there. It got to the point that her father confined her to the mansion in Twilight Town. The building had a barrier around it keeping outsiders from being able to break in uninvited.

This worked for a while. Until Hinata couldn't handle being locked away. She became restless and frustrated. And eventually she convinced Riku to head back to a world they'd been to in the past, a world that had a certain oracular pig that could show visions of the future.

If the vision showed her with a happy future, then surely things would be ok of she left the mansion.

So Riku and Sam went to Prydain, the origin of the Black Cauldron. After an arduous journey that involved the Horned King coming back as a Heartless, having to regain Taran's trust, and getting Hen Wen back from the Heartless King, they were rewarded with their visions.

Sam asked to see her father, who had disappeared over two years ago. While Riku asked to see Hinata.

B.E.N recorded the resulting visions and Sam created the lockets to house both of the visions.

Hinata wears her locket on a necklace and often holds it, tracing the indentations, when she's anxious. For her it's a reminder that everything will be ok. No matter how dark things become, there's a light waiting there at the end.

Below the cut is an except from Chapter 39 of "Third Beginning", describing the vision in its entirety.

_-----------_----------_-----------_

Riku wordlessly nodded and looked over at Hen Wen, catching her blue eyes gazing back at him. Something about her made him feel uneasy, as if she was looking right into his soul. He slowly knelt down beside her and took in a deep breath as he took off one of his gloves.

Barely touching the surface of the water, he gently moved his finger in a circular motion, repeating the words, "Hen Wen, from you I do beseech, knowledge that lies beyond my reach…"

Hen Wen followed his movements with her eyes, before lowering her snout into the water. The surface shimmered as Ben lit up his eyes, beginning his recording. A familiar sight appeared on the water's surface: a blue sparkling ocean that went out as far as they could see. Clouds speckled the sky as seagulls flew by, landing on the tall coconut trees that surrounded them. Hinata walked into view, her hands clasped behind her as she looked around. Her hair tapered past her shoulders, swaying softly with the breeze. A blue floral fabric was tied at her hips, billowing in the wind, and a black swimsuit top was fastened around her chest. She looked over her shoulder at Riku, her tattoo glowing brilliantly as she spoke, yet they couldn't hear her voice.

In the vision, Riku walked forward and pushed a few strands of Hinata's hair behind her ear, making her giggle before she looked back out at the ocean view. Behind them, Sora and Kairi came running up, both of them in their swimsuits, laughing as they approached. Kairi tackle hugged Hinata, almost making them topple over as Sora stopped beside Riku, grinning over at him. Suddenly, the vision swirled, making the image disappear before bringing up something new.

Riku stood in front of a group of familiar faces, Hinata being one of them. Star and crescent moon shaped windows were along the walls behind them, showing a deep space outdoors. In the center of the room was a long table, where a man with a long grayed beard sat, speaking to him. His eyes appeared stern and serious, but given the smiles on everyone else's face, Riku felt calm and welcomed. Beside the man stood Mickey with Donald and Goofy at his side. Behind them, Hinata had her hands clasped in front of her chest with a sweet expression on her face. She looked over to the right of Riku, making Riku look over to see Sora standing beside him with his hands linked behind his head as he spoke with a goofy grin molded onto his face. Sora noticed Riku's stare and looked over at him. The moment their eyes met, the vision once again swirled, about to change into a new image.

"I don't understand," the real Riku spoke up, shortly glancing up at Sam as she had walked over to see the vision. "These seem really far in the future."

Sam met his gaze, her eyes equally as confused as his. "Just keep watching, we'll figure it out."

Riku frowned, but looked back at the vision, showing him walking through a forest. Lush green trees surrounded him and soft grass speckled with flowers covered the ground. He noticed Hinata in the distance, sitting on top of a plush red—checkered quilt beside a woven picnic basket. In front of her was a little girl, no more than the age of six. Her hair was the same color as Riku's, reaching all the way to her waist. She sat patiently while Hinata braided her hair, weaving in some of the flowers from around the forest.

"Wait, is that…?" Sam softly began to speak, kneeling down to see the vision better.

Before she could finish her sentence, both the little girl and Hinata looked over. Their eyes didn't meet with Riku's but a little below to the right of him. Hinata's smile turned into a grin as she held out her arms. A little boy, barely over the age of two, with dark red hair, toddled into view from Riku's side. He stumbled a bit, but ran into Hinata's arms, receiving a warm hug. Hinata laughed, kissing the little boy on his forehead before looking up at Riku. A sweet glow was in her matured face and smile.

The real Riku gasped when their eyes met, his breath catching in his throat as his heart jumped. He knew exactly who those children were. A warm flush covered his face as tears threatened to fill his eyes. Swallowing hard, he looked away, unable to keep his gaze with Hinata's without being overwhelmed with emotion.

"T—that—" his voice came out hoarsely, making him clear his throat, "That's enough."

Taran reached forward and rippled the water, making the vision disappear. Riku leaned back, feeling the couch behind him to support his weight. He looked over at the crackling fire, wrapping his mind over everything he had just seen. His heart fluttered every time he replayed the events, a blush permanently on his cheeks. Ever so slowly, a smirk appeared on his face, eventually transforming into a full smile.

He tore his gaze from the flames to see Sam. She noticed him looking over and smiled at him, shaking her head and letting out a breathy laugh.

"Might not have been what we were looking for," she laughed, her voice still stained with tears. "But you have to admit, that was pretty amazing anyways."

[orqheuss]

Even the iron still fears the rot PART 1

(Ominis Gaunt/Sebastian Sallow/GN!Reader ANGST)

Parts: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7

Summary:

From the woods came a wretched, inhuman scream of his name, the sound of the cry like an animal trapped in a sharpened bear trap— so very panicked, so very scared. The pure, unfiltered desperation present in the voice burrowed itself deep into his very soul, sending alarm bells to ring harshly in his ears.  “Sebastian!” *** It was supposed to be a normal trip to Hogsmeade. But, when Sebastian and Ominis are kidnapped by poachers determined to seek revenge against the one who killed their fearless leader, will you be able to save them in time?

Word count: 4k

Tags: kidnapping, threats of murder, threats of dismemberment, body horror, gore, blood, panic attacks, detailed depictions of violence

Read at your own discretion

AN: I'm reposting this series finally! I made some edits to later chapters, but this one is relatively the same.

It was a sunny day when they were taken. The excitement of the very first Hogsmeade weekend of the new year sung through the halls of Hogwarts, ushering each and every elated student through the grand double doors at the entrance of the castle and down the winding dirt path towards the magical little town with a gentle melody. Happy laughter filled the woods lining the property, shouts of joy and discussion of what each group of friends were to do first swam through the tall, overarching leaves of the redwood trees. Even the woodland creatures seemed in high spirits. Common squirrels jumped from branch to branch in a race for the best tree nut, wild kneazles ran under the tall canopies, nipping at the ankles of their friends and tittering in play, even a small family of thestrals made themselves known to the wide expanse of students, the mother and father pushing their newborn fowl towards their very first fresh morsel of solid food— its footing unsure and stumbly with only its mothers snout tucked under his chin to keep him standing. Above it all, the brilliant sun blazed down on the pastures of the Scotland highlands, shining on the last of the springtime wildflowers that struggled to survive through the beginnings of autumn. For all intents and purposes, it truly was a beautiful day. 

Two Slytherin’s were a part of the large group, chatting away amongst themselves about the newest invention advertised in Zonko’s joke shop and their favorite homemade fudge from Honeydukes. Sebastian Sallow and Ominis Gaunt had grown over the summer between fifth and sixth year; their shoulders filled out more to match their new towering stature, and baby fat seemed to flake from their faces like snakes shedding a new skin. Even with these changes, they were still thick as thieves— best friends from the first moment they met all the way until the very end of their lives. There was very little in the world that could separate the two— even through the terrors of the previous year they somehow still found their way back to the other. It took them most of the summer to be back on speaking terms, particularly on Ominis’ part, but even with all that anger, they still came crashing together like the beginning of a small, green-colored universe. The only change that had been made in all their years was the addition of their new friend, the strange fifth year that joined the school later than normal and wormed their way into their hearts. They had pouted when their new friend told the boys that they could not join for the trip to Hogsmeade, but the duo had quickly promised to bring them back some cauldron cakes to cheer them up after the number of assignments they had to work on. 

It was rare to see smiles on their faces as of late— too much tragedy and death had happened upon them for their liking— but on this day their pearly white teeth were awoken from their long slumber for all the world to see. Grins stretched at their lips as their own laughter rang through the valley, a sight to behold by all. 

The pair were deep in a jest-filled argument about the brunette's troublemaking behavior as the grandiloquent arch of the village came into view. Magic seemed to swirl around the buildings, filling everyone who entered with a sense of calming peace. As many had said in the past, there was absolutely nothing like Hogsmeade— it drew people to it like a moth to a flame. 

The sound of Sebastian’s scoff caught the attention of a small group of Hufflepuffs lingering by the entrance, enticed by him for a moment before turning back to their own conversation. “Oh come off it, Ominis. A little sneak into the restricted section of the library is hardly the worst rule to break in the castle.” 

The blond barked a laugh, unseeing eyes glittering in the sunlight. “It may not be the worst, but it is certainly a rule that you seem keen to break often. How many times have you gotten detention this year so far, again? Five? I wonder how you got all of those.” 

The taller of the two huffed to himself, muttering under his breath in annoyance, “Damned poltergeist, always where he shouldn’t be.” 

Ominis smirked to himself in amusement. “Well, at least I read the rules before I break them.” 

“At least I can see the books I read.” 

A pregnant pause filled the conversation. Sebastian could feel the heated glare of his friend burn into the side of his face and a smug grin tweaked at the corners of his mouth. This was his favorite pastime, poking at a very easily vexed Ominis Gaunt. The other boy broke the silence after a long moment, voice dripping with contempt and malice. “I am going to kill you and make it look like an accident.” 

The brunette snorted, patting the other on the back heartily before quickly retreating farther away to avoid the inevitable slap heading towards him— fingertips barely grazing his arm as he danced just out of reach. “I’d love to see you try.” 

Ominis leveled his face into a blank expression, his twitching eyebrows the only thing betraying his annoyance as he turned on his heel and headed towards Honeydukes, determined to get there before the Saturday rush. 

The other boy cackled at his friend’s retreating form, yelling after him through his giggles. “Meet me in the center of town! One hour!” 

The blond shooed him away with his hand, not pausing in his stride. With a final look in his direction, the taller of the two veered off towards Sprintwitches, intrigued by the new broom upgrades he’d like to explore before the Quidditch season began. 

In the shadows tucked in the alleyway next to the Three Broomsticks, rested a trio of individuals, hoods pulled over their faces to conceal their identity and wands tucked securely in their sleeves. Their eyes trailed the two Slytherin boys, pupils blazing with a ferocious anger and vicious smiles decorating their expressions. While Rookwood, their once strong and powerful leader, may have been defeated by that ancient magic wielding twerp, there were still a few of his loyal poachers floating around in the Hamlet— only now that they were aware of the rare ability you possessed, they wanted it for themselves. It was a pity that you weren’t in town that day, you were their preferred target, but they could definitely draw you out if your friends suddenly found themselves where they didn’t belong. Their twisted smiles got exponentially wider as they thought of the sweet revenge they had meticulously planned for you— it was time to finally avenge their fallen comrade. With one last glance around the sunlit buildings, the three began to creep their way towards the candy store. 

The chime of the Honeydukes door rang out as Ominis exited the market, a package of his favorite fudge tucked securely under his arm. He smiled to himself, lifting his chin upwards towards the glowing sun rays that fell from the sky and basking in their sweet warmth for a moment. He adored the time of the year when spring became fall— the moment where it was just cool enough to leave the castle with a thin sweater but still warm enough for the aromatic flowers to be blooming. The lovely scent filled his nose as he carefully tucked his wand into the back pocket of his trousers, secure enough in the landscape of Hogsmeade to get around after years of coming to the tiny town, and began to head towards the center. Rounding the corner of the colorful building, he made his way down the tiny alleyway at its side, deciding to head to another store to pass the time, and caught the tail end of some juicy gossip from two third year Ravenclaw’s that exited the shop after him. He paused for a moment, his ears pricking in their direction as he tried to hear more of the conversation, quietly chuckling to himself as he thought about how hard you’d laugh at the story when he told you about it later. The loud commotion of the bustling town covered the noisy footsteps approaching behind him, blinding him to the sound of shuffling boots and the breeze of the large hand sneaking its way towards his face. His mouth was quickly covered by the stranger's palm, muffling his shout of alarm and pulling him against a strong, barreled chest. Ominis struggled against the arm pressed against his sternum, feet kicking in the air for leverage before his heels met the solid skin of his kidnappers' calves. No reaction came from the brute, bar a slight chuckle that ruffled the hair near the blond’s sensitive ear. His polished oxfords left tracks in the soil below his feet as he continued to thrash about, dragging him out of sight and towards the woods lining the town where they would wait for the other boy.

A little over an hour later, a lone Slytherin rested against the lavish fountain adorning the center of town. His hand dug into his vest pocket, pulling out his bronze pocket watch and checked the time, turning his head left and right in search for his friend. Ominis was not one to be late— in fact, it made him quite anxious. Could he still be in Honeydukes? It was possible, the blond definitely had a sweet tooth and enough money to buy out the whole store. Standing from his perch, he began to meander his way towards the candy shop, eyes still searching the crowds for the telltale tuft of the Slytherin’s dirty blond quiff. He swallowed around the worry that constantly built in his throat whenever something seemed wrong; the lump that formed just under his jaw rarely disappeared since the events of his fifth year. The brunette’s hands began to shake at his sides, coupled with sweat beading just above his brow— the beginnings of an episode palpable in the air. Deep, shaky breaths inhaled through his mouth and filled his lungs, ebbing off his panic attack as he struggled to tell himself that his friend was fine; Rookwood and Ranrok had been defeated— there was no one else out there looking to kill them. Merlin seemed to be answering his prayers for a calm sixth year so far. Even still, his pace sped up unconsciously, his body working outside of his control. 

The Sallow boy rounded the bend on the outskirts of town, the encompassing woods just to his left as he took in all the sounds around him like a mother bear searching for her lost cub. The back entrance to Honeydukes was just barely in his sight, and a little bit more panic stabbed into his chest when he didn’t see his companion. Nearing a jog at this point, he raced the rest of the way to the stout periwinkle-hued brick building, bursting through the door and into the unusually sparse emporium, startling the few students milling about the shelves, and sped towards the front counter. The brunette frantically described his friend to the clerk behind the till, nearly begging her to say that she’d seen him recently. Much to his chagrin, the woman shook her head and told the young wizard that the blond had left at least an hour ago, sympathy dripping from her words as she hoped for his safe return to his friend. Sebastian could feel his heart leap into his throat, skipping every other beat in anxiety as he ran out the way he came, rounding back through the forest trail, shouting for his friend. Harsh breaths fell from his lips in heavy pants— his heart feeling like a stampede of buffalo under his ribs. His nerves sparked just under his skin, sending a sharp, electrifying pain to every part of his body. For a moment, the freckled boy felt like he was back in the Scriptorium, staring down the murderous, sanguine bolt of the cruciatus curse heading right towards his chest. His heart pounded against his ribs even harder— any more pressure and it would surely break his sternum. A thick, murky fog of foreboding seemed to permeate the air around him. 

“Ominis!” He called, dread slowly creeping its way into his mind, narrowing his vision and sharpening the colors around him. 

From the woods came a wretched, inhuman scream of his name, the sound of the cry like an animal trapped in a sharpened bear trap— so very panicked, so very scared. The pure, unfiltered desperation present in the voice burrowed itself deep into his very soul, sending alarm bells to ring harshly in his ears. 

“Sebastian!” 

For a moment everything stood still— his harsh, choked breaths and the cracks of his heart breaking the only noises that filled the young brunette’s ears, sending his brain to a sputtering stop. 

Ominis. 

The boy sprinted towards the tall trees, feet harshly slapping against the ground as he flicked his wand out of his sleeve. He careened around stumps, stumbling over the multitude of roots littering the ground as he ran in the direction of the voice. Sebastian shouted for his friend again, raw panic coiling in his larynx like a cobra poised to strike as he waited for a response in what was most definitely the most demented game of call and response he had ever played. It was returned mere seconds later, muffled like something was covering the caller's mouth— hoarse and crackling from overuse. He pumped his legs faster, adrenaline spilling out of his adrenal cortex as fight or flight kicked in. 

The Slytherin skidded to a halt in a wide pasture tucked away near the center of the copse, eyes narrowing and lips forming a dangerous scowl at the sight before him. In the center of the grass circle stood three poachers, a male and a female flaking the sides of the other male in the center. In the middle man's arms was a trembling Ominis, eyebrows furrowed against his scathing glare and enraged, hysteric tears building just above his lower lashes. 

“Ah, welcome! We’ve been waiting for you.” A patronizing, sugary sweet voice came from the woman to the right of the Gaunt boy— the leader, Sebastian deducted. 

Ignoring her for now, the brunette cast his gaze back to his friend and assessed him for damages. Blood dripped from his nose in a steady stream, a bruise blooming over the bridge and creeping around his right eye. He struggled against the poachers' hold, one burly arm pressed against his chest, their hand covering his mouth, and the other wrapped tightly across his waist, his arms pinned to his side. Long, lithe fingers wrapped around the forearm holding him still, digging his nails into the fleshy skin and raising crimson-colored welts. A deep bite mark screamed on the hand muffling his cries, blood pebbling to the surface— likely the reason for the dark purple and blue discoloration that marred his pale skin. Off to the side, a long, attenuated onyx wand lay just out of reach, its red beacon blinking against the browning grass as it searched for its owner. 

White hot fury streamed through Sebastian’s body— blinding wrath dyeing his vision a startling red as he raised his wand level with the kidnappers eyes. The man laughed dryly, villainous mirth dancing in his irises as he squeezed the blond tighter to his chest, drawing a pained whimper from the boy against his will— his eyes squeezing shut and forcing the tears building to streak down his cheeks from the constriction of his abdomen. A searing burning sensation prodded just under Ominis’ jaw from a wand being pressed hostilely into his neck, no doubt forming a circle shaped burn against his skin that would scar. 

The leader of the three sneered at the brunette, quipping in a condescending tone. “I’d put that wand down if I were you.” Her eyes flicked to the other boy’s hand, watching his fingers tighten around the handle of his weapon. She chuckled. “Drop it, or he’ll be sent back to his family in a snuff box.” 

Sebastian snarled at the villain with a deep, primal rage— his voice growling through his clenched teeth. “What do you want with us?” 

Ominis’ eyes snapped open once more, eyebrows raised to his hairline and lids stretched wide in shock as he recognized the sound of the brunette’s voice. He frantically shook his head at the other boy, muffled words and curses spilling from his lips in a vain attempt to get him to leave and avoid a worse fate. 

The other man stepped slightly forward, wand poised to strike at a moment's notice. “We want the kid with the ancient magic. Lead them to us and we’ll go.” A sickly grin stretched the corners of his mouth, revealing rows of decaying teeth. “We’ll keep your friend here as collateral.” 

The brunette’s wand hand shook, molars tightly clenching around the uncontrollable amounts of anger pumping through his system as a blasting curse readied itself at the tip of his tongue. He only got through half of the arm movement before his weapon was blasted from his hand with a sharp expelliarmus. Snapping his neck back towards the woman, he was greeted with the sight of a snark-filled smirk reaching from lips to cheeks— her wand slightly smoking at the end from the spell. He met her eyes across the tiny field, narrowing his scorching glare like if he stared hard enough she’d burst into flames. 

The woman wagged her wand at him like a mother scolding a child, clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “Now that wasn’t very nice. I’ll give you one more chance! Raise your hands above your head or you’ll be down a classmate.” 

Sebastian said nothing, his fists clenching at his side and his hackles raising upwards towards his ears as she took a step closer. A sunbeam caught her toothy smile just right, making her canines look like sharpened fangs— a wolf in sugary scented sheep's clothing. Her lips twitched as she fought against a frown, turning her wand towards a still struggling Ominis and flicking her wrist in a quick motion. A long, jagged cut appeared just under the blond’s right eye, stretching along his cheekbone and oozing blood down his porcelain face. Sebastian froze in his tracks, a look of horror taking over and shining in his eyes. He met the heated stare of the woman once more, her grin suddenly twice as evil and as sharp as laughter glowing in her irises. 

Eyes darting left and right and panic rising once again, forming a knot in his throat, the freckled boy realized he was trapped. His face was stuck in a perpetual snarl, teeth gnashing together and grinding with an audible creak as he stepped back, legs poised to run. As much as his body screamed to leave the death trap and go get help from someone who would be more equipped to handle the situation, he knew that he couldn’t leave his friend— couldn’t throw him to the wolves to be eaten bit by bit until there was nothing but gnawed on bone remaining. Sebastian truly felt like a wild animal stuck in a cage, waiting for the trapper to return and skin them alive for his pelt. Another small sound, akin to the whimper of a wounded fox, came from his captured friend, pure, unadulterated fear clouding over his eyes and sending a dagger directly into the young brunette’s heart. He knew what he needed to do, for both his survival and Ominis’. With everything within him fighting to do the opposite, the brave young wizard finally surrendered.

He slowly raised his hands, palms open and placating as they stopped just at the sides of his head. If they both wanted to get out of this alive, he had to bide his time and do as they asked. 

Taking slow, even steps towards the brunette, the woman’s grin stretched even further up her cheeks, nearing the point of unearthliness. Stopping right in front of the freckled boy, she tapped the end of her wand against the bottom of his chin, tilting his face upwards to match her gaze. Sebastian couldn’t help but think that she had some sort of otherworldly, deadly beauty about her. Her teeth were sparkling ivory, perfectly straight and sharp enough to rip out his throat if she so much as wished it. Eyes the color of absinthe met his, drawing him in like a heavy, raging current; there was something hypnotizing about them, like a solidified Amortentia potion— if he stared too long he would very likely begin to hallucinate. Her low cut shirt dangled tantalizingly from her chest, revealing briar needle sharp collarbones. Everything about her was meant to draw you in, entice and seduce you before she bit off your head like a queen praying mantis. If Sebastian didn’t know any better, he would say she was part Veela, or maybe a Siren— a creature meant to lure men to their death. She was terrifyingly gorgeous. His nostrils filled with the incredibly strong scent of madagascar vanilla and an underlying tone of coppered ichor. 

She leaned close, breath brushing against the hairs on his neck as she whispered in his ear. “Good boy.” 

His body stiffened unconsciously, savage anger and paralyzing fear waltzing together in his stomach. 

She leaned away after a moment, straightening her back and meeting his glare once again. “Now, tell me where the mutt who killed my brother is.” 

Sebastian’s eyes widened minutely, a silent moment of understanding passing between the two students before he spat in her face. “Over my dead body.” 

Molten lava bubbled under the surface of his amber irises, its ire begging to be released so it could set the whole word aflame for hurting someone he loved and threatening another. 

A pained sound came from the blond across from him, his peat-bog eyes pleading with his friend to stop, to run, to leave him and save himself. He couldn’t bear the thought of the boy dying in his stead— not when Ominis loved him much more than he loved himself. 

The woman cackled, throwing her head back in mirth and wiping the spittle from her cheek. She cracked her knuckles, raising her wand and leveling it with Sebastian’s chest. “Oh, you have no idea what I have in store for you— you’re going to wish I killed you.” 

The boy didn’t have a moment to process what she meant before he was roughly depulso’d into the closest tree, the back of his skull making contact with the coarse bark and sending a burst of blinding stars to the forefront of his mind. He tumbled to the ground as blackness began to take over his sight. The last thing he saw and heard was Ominis digging his teeth into the hand covering his mouth once again, spitting a chunk of bleeding flesh to the ground and screaming out for him. His body struggled twice as hard, desperation clawing its way into the blond’s throat. Animalistic wails filled the space around them as he fought with all his strength to get to his fallen friend. 

A loud thump silenced all sounds, and Ominis’ body crumbled to the forest floor below. 

Pain swam behind Sebastian’s eyes, nestling itself just at the front of his brain, and the world around him went dark. 

***

like what you read? here's more!

[bluegoblinzz]

He's breaking through the cage of judgment's eye

into a labyrinth with forgotten lore.

a beast is born. conformity shall die. 

A spell in cauldron, wish and fate to tie

the night seeping into his burning core

He's breaking through the cage of judgment's eye

Great rugged white horns, bright like quartz stretch high.

A tail breaks through a false form, hides no more

A beast is born. Conformity shall die. 

The fortress his, with songs of joy to cry

a massive home to guard and to explore

He's breaking through the cage of judgment's eye

Boots beat in rhythm. Hooves and leather vie.

From his broadened snout he lets out a roar

a beast is born. Conformity shall die. 

Calm washes over. false form gone. A sigh. 

Truth granting freedom to the minotaur. 

He's breaking through the cage of judgment's eye.

A beast is born. Conformity shall die.

[diamond-dangeresque]

The mess hall was the busiest room in the Grothmar citadel today, soldiers pouring in and out to dine on meals in comfort and privacy. Far away from strangers to the land, further still even from the Charr of other Legions. Conversations held from the earshot of overly observant centurions. Whispers and murmurs held in the sanctity of a room without any Ashen spooks.

Which makes Chihiro's presence all the more unwelcome in the hall.

Some of the Charr in the room break from their meals to look at the Human. They stare. The skinned warhound acting as a mantle draws attention, brings alight bad memories of "old Ascalon relics" found in the ruins of the former capital. They whisper amongst themselves, the absurdity of a mouse watching them through a blindfold, arms crossed with a selfsure grin. Many chuckle. Some grumble. A few perform something akin to a self-ward with their hands, the performers chided by compatriots around them for their superstitious behavior. He's just a mouse in a blindfold, they'd say in a manner of paraphrase, we're not dealing with a Flame shaman here. A few humor the idea aloud of throwing a dagger or firing a pistol at the mouse, see if he reacts at all. (Chihiro would love to see them try. Even if any claims of "self-defense" or "fuck around and find out" would fall flat in a place like this.)

Standing at his left is the presence of Kalla Scorchrazor, her gaze scanning over the room just as Chihiro's is through the cloth. She had previously admired the statue of her likeness just behind the Herald, noted its composition of "Searing Cauldron bronze," approved of the good use of metal. But this place was a shitshow, and this mess hall was a pretty little microcosm of that. Blood soldiers purposefully, willingly, kept separate from other Charr. Non-Charr "encouraged" to stay in more public areas, outside of the Keep and especially away from "Charr common rooms". Corralled outside, in the open, where others can watch from afar and with scrutiny. In the open: nothing but respect and honor and tact. Behind closed doors: about three steps from belting out slurs and hateful rhetoric, because it's "safe" over here. No judging eyes. No ethics violations.

Chihiro had respect for the ways the Legions trained their Charr. He was now reconsidering such a notion.

She had seen through the Herald's eyes what fruit the seeds of this Human-Charr peace treaty had wrought, what peace it had allowed the Charr to experience. It was a peace she envied dearly for her living years, something to gift to her cubs if only she had it. And to imagine someone willingly tossing that all away, to cling to old self-destructive ideas and memories of long-gone days, to fan flames that long should have been doused...it was the Flame shamans and their uprising all over again. She could already smell the burning fur as she thought of it.

As for Chihiro, he's fought Renegades before: the large, disparate warband started by those who didn't believe in the treaty of peace between the Kingdom of Kryta and the High Legions of the Charr. They broke off in droves over decades. Entire families raised and trained in the life of killing humans to hold up a war rapidly losing its last legs. Brainwashed into blind hatred, ignorant malice, fearful paranoia. Renegades kill some Humans, they make some Separatists out of the survivors; in turn they kill some Charr, they make some Renegades out of their survivors. A pair of snakes each devouring the other's tail. It wasn't going to end for them unless one side was just a mountain of corpses. These Renegades, they didn't seem to care. The bodies were the point of their exclamation mark: better dead than in league with mice.

"What do you think?" Chihiro asks Kalla, head turning to further scan the room. "Any of these fellas seem...backstabby to you?"

"Not particularly," Kalla answers, snout twitching and dragging part of her upper lip with it. Her ears twitch, trying to hone in on any interesting conversations held within the aisles of the mess hall. "Talks of recruiting cubs and greenhorns into traitorous ranks so casually held in this room don't give me any confidence, all being said."

"They think I can't do jack about what they're saying." Chihiro chuckles. Some of the Charr nearest to him turn their heads slightly. "That it's their word, their superior's word, versus mine and the Pact's. We'll see about that." He begins to walk towards the doorway, some of those nearest-to-him Charr spooked at the sudden peep he had let out after who-knows-how long he had held his tongue up until now. "Oh. Whoops~✨"

"That wasn't a slip," Kalla chides.

"Can't prove or disprove it either way," Chihiro chuckles, shrugging as he passes Brokenstone at the door. "But we've got good intel. We can rejoin Kasmeer and Efram at–" He notices the warband general's shoulders tense up. Tail stiffened and swishing. "...You good?" Brokenstone leans forward a touch, eyeing the Human talking to himself. Weirdo.

No. Frankly, never. It was bad enough seeing the Flame Legion persist centuries after their fall from power and grace. To see them grovelling back to the Legions? To plead for acceptance, forgiveness, after everything they've done to the Charr as a whole? Nigh unforgivable! "Let's move on, Herald." But that wasn't her choice to make. And it wasn't her place to judge the actions of modern Charr by antiquated standards; the so-called Renegades do enough of that as it is.

"Roger, ma'am." Chihiro kept tabs on Kalla's touchiness towards Flame Legion; he knows of the Scorch warband's history well enough, yeah, but he didn't anticipate a response as undisciplined as this. Then again, this whole "party" had been one conga line of surprises after another. He didn't expect Aurene to crash the party the way she did. He didn't expect the Blood Legion Imperator to be a snobby politician with fascistic goals in his horned head. He definitely didn't expect the party to be a cover for a mass levy attempt, and he absolutely didn't anticipate Rytlock's boy to be in the center of this spiked web.

But, despite being deprived of his precious and rare alcohol, the flavor of this mission's intrigue kept him going. He wanted to see this through to its end, in whatever shape that took. "I'll call in Kasmeer; I think we need to go undercover for this."

[saingirl101]

NeverAfter Characters As Brian David Gilbert Memes for Episode 10 (SPOILERS)

The Entire Gang trying to act like a normal princess, her cousin, two butlers, a handmaiden, and a jester:

The Baron of Bricks whenever the gang did NOT roll high enough on deception/Pinnochio made a bad joke:

The gang finding out the soup was people WOLF:

and also technically this...

The big bad wolf most of this episode:

Ylfa jumping on the wolf's snout in the middle of a boiling cauldron of soup (death is metaphorical here not physical for obvious reasons):

Ylfa and Pib tag teaming to punt the baron of bricks into lava hot scalding soup:

The wolf getting sweet, sweet vengence by voring nomming the baron:

The audience by the end of this episode:

and as always brennan:

[subrenaspade]

Twisted Wonderland x Reader :No Place For Children Prologue

This story is just some cute fluff I thought that some of you all would enjoy. There might be some cursing, that's all I can think of at the moment. The reader does have a bit of a backstory, giving her a little bit of OC vibes, but besides some background elements the rest is up to you. I only write Female, if that bothers you I'm sorry, I'm used to writing female and I keep having to go back to take away she/her pronouns. 

I do plan to make a series but more along the lines of while in this dorm for one chapter then while in this dorm for this other chapter.

A little background about the MC in my story so you're not all too lost. The MC used to suffer from androphobia (A fear of men), that has to do with some past trauma That I might go into more detail about later on if I decide to continue this story. The MC is also a Orphan losing her father at four, then her mother at fourteen, so there will be mention of family. The MC spent all her time in foster care, due to her mother being an orphan herself and her fathers family disowning him. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I read over the list of ingredients we are supposed to use for the potion we were assigned to make. This lesson was a little different since our first year classes were all merged, leaving each group with seven to eight in each group. Obviously I and the One brain cell trio grouped up with Epel, Jack, and Sebek. I knew better than I really did, but I still let myself get talked into joining this disaster of a group. 

“Do we have the hog snout out?” I asked, turning around to look at the group. Sebek was arguing with Ace and Grim about who would win in a game of basketball, some unknown athlete to me in this world or Malleus (who I am 95% sure doesn't know what basketball is…. Maybe Sebek too). Epel and Deuce were talking about their next meet for track and next game of spell drive. The only one who seemed to pay a little attention to me was Jack, whose ears perked up a little at my question. He walked to the laid out supplies and looked at me giving me a nod. 

“We should be ready to start the spell.” Jack said loudly to get the others' attention. They all looked at the two of us who returned their wide eyed stares with deadpan faces.

 “Right! We are making a spell to increase one's height.” Sebek's voice bellowed, earning a SHHH!! From the other students around us. I rolled my eyes and smiled at the baffled expression he had. 

“Okay, since I have no magic I will help with stirring and measuring out the ingredients.” I said as I passed the page with the spell on it to the rest of the group.

“Sounds good to me. We can all cast the spell and some of us will stir with you while some of the others can help you with the supplies.” Epel said, looking at the group. Grim jumped from Ace’s shoulder to the high chair we had out for him since he wasn't allowed to touch the ingredients (Last time some of his hair got caught on some of the ingredients and ended up turning us all into beastmen for a few weeks). 

At first everything was going okay, no arguments, no bickering, no clumsy mishaps. However, that all ended when Deuce muttered the wrong word, causing the potion to turn green. We all stopped as we held our breath. Slowly the potion started to steam, coming to a rolling boil. We all stepped back from it with wide eyes. I saw that Grim was still looking into the cauldron with a fascinated gaze. I gasped as I rushed over grabbing ahold of him, much to the protests of my group mates. At that moment the cauldron started to shake as if a time bomb was about to go off. I saw it turn pink and in an attempt to save Grim I flung him at Jack who caught him on instinct.

The second I saw Grim land in Jack's arms, I heard a booming puff sound. Smoke surrounded me and as much as I tried to hold my breath, I was too shocked to do so for so long. I succumbed to the drowsiness that engulfed my entire being….. Letting the exclaims of my friends and Professor Crewel be the last thing I remembered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~Third POV~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Everyone was able to avoid the smoke that  had only engulfed the perfect.  With a wave of his pen, Professor Crewel  had summoned a huge gust of wind to push the smoke out of the room. They all watched the area they last saw the Perfect, just before the explosion of magic. 

“(Name)! Are you okay!?” Ace called out into the cloud of magic. Finally the smoke was all cleared out and all they saw… was a pile of clothes on the ground. 

“O-Oh no! I-I killed (Name)!!” Deuce almost wailed. The pile of clothes moved, making everyone gasp. Through the layers of fabric and cloth a small head poked out. A little girl with messed up hair and tired (color) eyes that scanned the area as if dazed. Even though this was a child they all knew who it was the second thE little girl peeked out of the baggy clothing.

“(name)?” Was all that they could say. The girl who was still dazed tilted her head at them all as if confused. She reached up and rubbed her tired eyes.

“Where am I?” She muttered, seeming to look around for someone. 

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN WHERE ARE YOU?” Sebek screamed. To everyone it sounded like thunder breaking through the silence, However to the little girl it was like a tornado hitting the ground. She threw her hands to her ears and let out a whimper. This had seemed to wake the poor thing up, cause her eyes widened as she registered completely she was not where she was supposed to be. She flew to her shaky legs like a doe taking its first steps. The shirt and coat she was wearing made a dress on her. 

“Mom!!” The girl called looking frantically around. Her eyes were starting to turn watery and her lip quivered as she tried not to cry in panic. 

“H-Hey it's okay..” Jack tried to ease the girl's fear, however his big structure seemed to only scare the girl more as she whimpered, stepping back from him. Jack's tail tucked itself between his legs and his ears flattened against his head. He stepped back trying not to take the scared little girl's reaction to heart. 

Crewel started to usher the other students out of the room to try and make less eyes on the petrified child. While he did this the group of guys that the girl (Unknowingly) called friends stayed to try and calm her down. Though none of them seemed to have any real success in doing that. 

Finally Ace let out a sigh and kneeled in front of the small child who was at this point huddled in a corner at this point. He looked her in the eyes as much as she would allow and urged himself to let out a calm and gentle voice, trying to hide his own fear and the weaver in his voice.

“(Name) right?” The girl perked up at her name, shifting her eyes to meet his head on. He smiled at her. “I’m Ace… Ace Trappola. Sorry, we were trying to be more quiet….. But got carried away. Your mom had to go on a business trip for a few days… Do you remember that?” Ace asked, letting the white lie do its thing. The girl's eyebrows scrunched together in confusion as she tilted her head. She shook her head. “She must have forgotten to tell you then. Your mother is a doctor right?” He asked. (Name) gave nothing away, waiting for him to continue. “She had to go to another hospital far away to help someone. She said it was urgent. You're here since the hea– I mean Crowley offered to babysit you.” Her shoulders loosened up as if the white lie that Ace fed her gave her a form of comfort like a blanket. 

“H-How do I know you're not lying?” She asked and adjusted her posture a little as if she was ready to defend herself. Ace felt a cold sweat run down his neck… how can he show her that it wasn't a lie…. Even though it was. He finally thought of something, he met her eyes.

“Remind me…. How old are you? 4? 5?” He asked. She pursed her lips as if trying to figure out what he was playing at. She held up five fingers, making his heart break a little for bringing up such a horrible time for her. “Your father…. He passed away not too long ago, right?” He asked. The girl's eyes widened and her lips quivered. She nodded her head as if speaking would cause her voice to break. “He used to sing you a song whenever you were sick or couldn't sleep… (Favorite song). It's yours and his favorite song.” He said. The girls looked down, nodding weakly at his question. He reached out and patted the little girl's head. “From what I heard… he was a really good guy..” Ace offered to try to comfort a child (Though didn't know) who had no one in this world outside of these school grounds. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Time Skip~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What is the meaning of this emergency meeting?” Riddle asked, agitated that his schedule had to be changed at such short notice. 

“I am also curious… Mostro Lounge is about to get a big wave of customers… Having me and my vice house warden here will be difficult for the employees.” Azul started looking over at Jade who politely smiled. 

All the housewardens and vice house wardens were gathered around Crowley's office. Crowely sat at his desk, leaning against his hands as if contemplating something. Finally he let out a long sigh, leaning back into his chair. “There seems to have been an accident involving the perfect…….” Crowley said in a grievous voice. Everyone tensed up at the statement. 

“I-Is she hurt? Where is she, does she need medical care!?” Kalim shot questions out faster than anyone could answer. Crowley raised his hand up, making Kalim stop talking.

“I should inform you that she is uninjured…. However….. There is a bit of a problem.” Crowley stood up. He flinched slightly at the sound of thunder and lighting. Everyone turned to look at Malleus who seemed to be trying to control his rage. 

“Where. Is. She.” Malleus glowered at the head mage who fought the urge to shake in fear. 

“S-She is outside… Um..” Crowley walked over to the door and opened it, peeking out. “Crewel, bring her in please.” Crowley requested, stepping back as the white and black haired professor walked in. The second he stepped foot in the room everyone gawked at him. A child in a pair of shorts and a black shirt had her arms wrapped around his neck as he held her in his arms. Her messy hair had been straightened out. Her head turned as she looked at all the shocked boys in the room. Crewel set her down on the ground where she moved to hide behind him in a shy manner. She clung to his long furry coat as she looked over the new environment. 

“Is THAT the potato..” Vil asked in shock. Crowely nodded his head, letting out a grieving sigh. 

“There was an accident in Alchemy today involving some of your first years leading to her being turned back to five….. She had no memory of who she is now or who we are… Right now she is who she was when she was just a five year old girl..” Crewel stated, patting the little girl's head in an attempt to persuade her from hiding. She looked at him and nodded, though she still looked really nervous. She stepped out of her hiding spot and looked down to the ground fiddling with the hem of her shirt.

“I-I am (Full name)... I-It's nice to meet you..” She said in her shaky voice. She looked up at them through her lashes as a shy blush adorned her face. Her cute expression turned out to be too much for someone.

“AWWWWW You are so cute!” Kalim flung his arms at her. She yelped as he threw her up and nuzzled into her. She had tensed up at the sudden outburst and affection he was showering her with. 

“KALIM! SHOW SOME RESTRAINT!!! YOU ARE SCARING HER!!” Jamil scolded in a firm voice. Kalim froze, pulling back to take in the shaken expression the little girl was giving him. He was about to place her down when another pair of arms hoisted her up. 

“So what are we going to do with the herbivore?” Leona asked as he eyed the girl up and down. He held her at arm length, making it a really uncomfortable experience for her. The room went quiet, they all stared at her…. Like they were expecting something.

“Um….. can you put me down please?” She asked. Leona tilted his head at her as if asking what she was going to do about it. He let out a growl as she was yanked from his grasp. She looked up at the man cradling her, Lillia smiled down at her as if he was excited to hold her.

“She can stay with us obviously.” Lillia claimed, clearly excited to play the role of adoptive father. 

“Well, we were going to dump- I mean entrust her to all of you. Crewel knows how to turn her back, however he needs an ingredient that will take about two weeks to get here. Until then she will stay a few days in each dorm, since it was a group effort from some of your first years to do this to her.” Crowley explained. They all snapped their heads in his direction.

“W-What!? What do we know about watching a child!?” Idia exclaimed through his tablet. 

“You're all housewardens. You know, responsibility. We can't keep an eye on her all the time since we have a lot of work so you all should be able to watch one child for a few days.” Crowley chimed, making everyone, even the little girl who at the moment knew nothing about him give him a blank stare. I mean…. He could have worded that better. He coughed in his hand and straitened his posture. “She will stay in Heartslabyul for the next three days, then Savanaclaw, then Octavinelle, then Scarabia, then Pomefiore, then Ignahyde, then Diasomnia. In that order.” He pointed to the members of said houses as he went along. They all sighed when they realized that there was no talking him out of this. 

“I'm sorry….” The little girl mumbled. They all looked at her, but Rook was the one to speak up first. 

“What do you mean little trickster?” Rook asked. 

“For causing so much trouble… everyone seems to be really upset with me…” She muttered looking down in guilt. 

“I-It's not you! Not at all! It's just a lot to take in right now!” Kalim said, trying to comfort the guilt filled girl. She met his gaze with an expression that clearly declared that she didn't believe him. Lillia moved her around in his arms to get her to lean against his shoulder. He stroked her back and hummed a light tune. She moved her hands to cling to the fae’s uniform and nuzzle into the fabric on his shoulder. She couldn't explain it but something about the way he cradled her in a comforting manner made her tired. 

“No one here would ever think of you as trouble, little one.” Lillia muttered. She let out a small hum, indicating that she heard him, though everyone was pretty sure that she didn't really hear what he said. He let out a chuckle as he started to rock her back and forth. “You seem to have had a long morning. Go ahead and rest for a little bit” He soothed her with his voice. After a few minutes of rocking the girl's body went completely limp in his hold as she fell to the temptation of sleep. Lillia let a huge grin plaster itself on his face, happy to have another chance to hold a child again. He looked back at all the young men in the room who gawked at him and his skill with children.

“How did you manage that?” Idia asked. Lillia let a chuckle ring out as he looked at all the shocked faces. 

“Just have a way with kids.” He said, rubbing the sleeping girls back. Rook took a step closer getting a better look at (Names) face as she slept. He narrowed his eyes as he grinned at her, reaching out for a strand of her hair. 

“I knew she would be the most beautiful little girl in the world.” Rook cooed quietly as he brought her hair to his lips, placing a gentle kiss. 

“Hey, giant lizard. You were talking all high and mighty. Why are you hiding in a corner?” Leona glanced at the tall male with horns. 

Malleus kept a watchful eye on the young girl, but kept a distance. He was used to people running from him or fearing him. However the one person in this world who didn’t fear or run from him didn't know him. He didn't know if his heart could take the cold rejection of the little girl who he considered his closest friend. He crossed his arms coolly as he brushed off the beastmans question. 

Lillia gave him a knowing smile as he appeared beside him, gently shoving the little girl into Malleus’s arms. The girl shifted her head a little as Malleus wrapped his arms around her. Her eyes opened for a second, meeting his shocked gaze. She gently smiled at him as she closed her eyes, leaning into him. Though he was still stiff, his expression loosened slightly as the small child cuddled into him. A gentle smile showed on his face as he stared down at the (Name). 

“You always surprise me..” he muttered quietly as he tried to mimic Lillia’s rocking skills. 

“This brings another question, where will she sleep?” Riddle asked, watching the child. 

“Well with the housewardens.” All the males looked at him again with wide eyes. Crowley placed his hands on his hips. “It only makes since, the housewardens have a room all to them selves, not to mention huge beds to boot. Sharing a little of that room wont hurt any of you.” Crowley explained. Before anyone could talk back, he straitened his posture and walked over to Malleus who still held the child in his hands. He moved his hand to stroke the childs hair out of her face. “A small thing with nothing, sleeping alone in a new environment will surely be a scary experience for her. However if she is surrounded by a bunch of strangers it might be overwhelming. Having one person will be good for her and comfort her.” He continued his explanation. If any of the boys had any objections, it died in their throats. It made since, to all of them. “Now, I do have some work I need to finish.” Crowley said, ushering the students out of the room. 

“What about clothes?” Trey got in as they were shoved out. 

“Oh, crewel Has that covered.” Crowley chirped as he closed his doors. The boys all sighed as they stared at the shut doors, then turned to the girl in Malleus’s arms. Trey moved forward, holding his arms out.

“I’ll go ahead and take her since she is coming to our dorm for a few days.” Trey offered. Malleus moved back a little, reluctant to let the child go. Lillia moved behind Malleus, giving him a pat on the back. A sigh left his lips as he begrudgingly gave the girl over to him. Riddle moved beside Trey, getting a better look of her. 

“It's hard to believe this little girl is our (Name).” Riddle muttered as he crossed his arms. A sigh left his nose as he looked to the side with a scowl on his face. “Remind me to punish Ace and Deuce when we return to the dorm.” Riddle said to Trey, earning a nervous laugh from said man.