#from me and this depressed potion maker

[ask-prune-juice]

"I'm a bit late to this. Kouign told me that June was Pride Month. It makes me wonder if me being baked on June 1st was some kind of foreshadowing from the universe. Anyways, Happy Pride Month to whoever's reading this"

[dayz72]

Headcanons/assumptions and guesses about characters I know little to nothing about!!!

Stanford pines:

gay or Aroace

alcoholic

has ptsd, anxiety, and depression

is dyslexic

Canadian

smokes ALOT

Had a bf in the 80s that died

plays dnd

redditor

shares cigs and beers with Wendy against the will of the other uncle guy

adopts the Mable and dipper

has hallucinations

writer

lives deep in the woods because he withdrew from society after ✨trauma✨ happened

has beef with his brother at first then they are besties again

makes dad jokes

Wendy:

Bisexual Demi girl

adhd

does weed with Stanford

Irish Canadian

is besties with Stanford and has deep convos with him

is besties with dipper and Mable

vampire hunter

curses a lot

owns many many guns

Marcy:

lesbian

Autistic

a bit more childish then her friends but actually the strongest

Vietnamese

has a bunch of ocs

writes fanfiction

draws a lot

potion maker

witch possibly?

fights with daggers

basically nifty from hazbin hotel but toned down a bit and more child appropriate

theater kid for sure

Anne:

I’m getting Luz vibes

pan and agender

ptsd and anxiety idk why

Cuban

also theater kid

her and Marcy belt songs

Cosplayer

is good with computers

yapper

has many plushies

Rok so that’s it for now please tell me what I got right and wrong or what yall agree with or don’t agree with! And please tell me what other characters I should do!

[6ftslytherin]

The Stranger In My Best Friend's Skin

Warning: elements of the story center around the sever depression of a character. This includes self harm, an anxiety attack, internalized homophobia, and a suicide attempt. Reader discretion is advised.

Rowan got the news last week. Her best and first friend in the entire world was going to be an inpatient at the Waterhouse psychiatric ward. For the past three days, she had tried to ask Sabine if she could visit, only to receive no reply. Today was different, however. Her letter had received a simple "yes" to her question this time. Rowan wasn't going to waste this opportunity.

Now here she was, seeing Sabine for the first time in months. But that wasn't the same Sabine she had seen leave King's Crossing. It was as if she had aged at least twenty years in their short time apart. Heavy bags had formed under her tired eyes. Her hair had grown a bit longer. Her cheeks had never been the fullest, but upon closer inspection, they had become sunken. She was wearing a simple gray t-shirt and jeans. There was a leather wristband on her left side. Despite her default shoes being sneakers, she was wearing slip-ons now. She had always looked older than she was. She was six feet tall by the time they were thirteen, and now, a year later, she looked like she had lived several lifetimes.

"Uh.... hey." Rowan said, trying the best she could to not let her nervousness bleed through. Sabine smiled just a little. "Hello," she said. "I must look like the living dead at this point. They wouldn't let me bring in my skin care stuff. They said some talented potion makers are able to use them." Rowan wanted to argue back. She wanted to support her friend at rock bottom, but she couldn't get the words together fast enough. "Why don't we talk in the courtyard? This is a facility for the rich, so it's gorgeous." Sabine said. "Yeah, sure." Rowan said as Sabine led her to their destination.

It was gorgeous. Plants cascaded from large pots like a verdant waterfall. Blooming flowers of subtle colors, probably to not overwhelm people. They sat at a marble picnic table under the shade of an elm tree. As Rowan looked around, an offensive, acidic smell came out of nowhere. She turned back to Sabine as she took a drag of a Marlboro Red. "This is the only place they let me smoke. Give it a minute." She said. Suddenly the air became full of the scent of flowers, completely getting rid of the smell.

"The plants here were used to cover up an unpleasant aroma." Sabine said. Rowan looked at her friend as a pit grew in her stomach. She remembered the first time she caught Sabine smoking. On April 19, 1987, Sabine tried to cover up what she had been doing, but the lingering sting in the air masked any lie she could think of. Rowan chewed her out for it. Yelling about cancer, emphysema, and COPD. Looking back on it, maybe reacting that way wasn't the best considering where they currently were.

Sabine was playing with her silver lighter, flicking it on and off. "I didn't think they'd let you have that here." Rowan said he was glad to have some words to break the tension. "I didn't either." Sabine said, not taking her eye off the lighter's flame. "It's this wristband I'm wearing. It's had a spell put on it so that I'm unable to physically hurt myself or others. I also can't take it off; my doctor has to do it." She reached her hand towards the flame and attempted to grab it, only for the small fire to die before contact was made.

"That's good." Rowan said. She knew that Sabine would never hurt anyone, but she remembered back on the train from Hogwarts. It was just for a moment when Sabine changed into her street clothes, but Rowan saw something. Scars running horizontally across her inner thigh. Since Sabine was a fast dresser, it was only for a moment, but she had seen it. Rowan wanted to say something. But maybe she misunderstood what she had seen. That had to be it. Sabine would never do that.

"Yet, for some reason, they still don't allow shoes with laces here." She finally set the lighter down. Once again, the awkward silence came. Rowan had a myriad of emotions thundering in her gut. Sabine was different, to put it mildly. Sabine was cheerful. She was noble and kind.

She was happy.

At least, that's what everyone thought.

"It is good to see you again. I do appreciate this." Sabine said. "Oh, it's nothing. I'd do anything to help you get better." Rowan said, putting on a cheerful face. Sabine smiled the same small, tired smile from before. A peek of the Sabine she knew from before everything that had recently happened.

Everything went quiet again as Sabine continued to smoke. What could they talk about? Would she be offended if she asked about everything? What about before? Would that be okay?

"They're saying I shouldn't start my fourth year this fall at the same time as everyone else. They want me to wait and see if the medication balances me out better. It's not as bad as this one kid here. He's schizophrenic, and his parents are homeschooling him. He's not even that bad. His family probably just doesn't want people to know about his condition." Sabine said. "Oh, what are you on?" Rowan said. What are you doing? What a stupid question. "I don't remember. It's something long that starts with a c." Sabine said. She took another drag.

"They diagnosed me with severe depression. That's an understatement." She said. "Yeah, everything considered..." Rowan said it without thinking. Another moment of stiff silence followed as Sabine looked at her cigarette. "Does this situation make you uncomfortable? You don't have to lie." Rowan squirmed. She did the same as Sabine and stared at her hands. "Yeah. It does." What else could she have said? Sabine took a breath.

"Thank you. I appreciate your honesty." Sabine said. Rowan looked up at Sabine, even though she didn't meet her gaze. She was clearly thinking about something. "My parents have been trying to act like this messed-up situation doesn't... I don't know how to put it. They acknowledge that I need help and that it's a good thing that I'm getting it, but the look in their eyes when they visit is like they're looking at a ghost. Maybe that's what I am, but they don't know how to break it to me."

The words sent a shiver up Rowan's spine. She understood that the position Sabine's parents were in would definitely not be easy. Especially considering that after the disappearance of Jacob, she was the only child they had left at home. Her oldest brother, Yosef, was in Switzerland as a bassist in a renowned orchestra. John died as a child in a hit-and-run. Now this.

Rowan touched Sabine on the hand, causing their eyes to meet. "See? You can't be a ghost because I can touch you." Sabine smiled again. Rowan was feeling pretty good about this visit. Three smiles from a severely depressed person is a good sign, right? Suddenly, Sabine looked away again; her smile faded back to nothingness. She clearly went back to whatever she was thinking of before.

"I feel dead."

Nausea swelled in Rowan's gut. She felt like she was going to puke right then and there. But she fought the acid that was crawling up the back of her throat. "Well, don't worry. You'll get better before you know it. We'll be drinking butterbeer at the Three Broom Sticks and getting candy from Honeydukes. Not to mention that the quidditch team would really struggle without you."

Sabine made a little noise from her throat, clearly still thinking about whatever was swirling in her mind. Once again, silence snuck between them. How long were visiting hours here anyway?

"Rowan?" Sabine suddenly said, shaking Rowan back to the current moment. "What do you think of homosexuals?" She asked, not lifting her eyes from the pot of flowers she was staring at. "Uh, they're okay, I guess. I mean, people are people, no matter who they're attracted to. Like, André's a really nice fella, and he's pretty open about liking guys." Rowan answered. "I see..." Sabine almost whispered.

"Do you know that model, Yvonne Silverpot?" She said she was not changing the focus of her vision. "Well yeah. Who doesn't? She's always showing up on magazine covers." Rowan said. Suddenly, Sabine looked a little bit more tired. "She stayed at my home for a few weeks about a month ago. She was working with my mother on a project for her new fashion line." She said.

"That's cool. Did you get an autograph?" Rowan asked. Sabine said nothing. Rowan wondered if she had said the wrong thing. For some reason, she felt like she was more likely to say the wrong thing than anyone else. "We became fast friends." Sabine smiled again. "And then one day she asked me if I had ever kissed anyone before. I thought it was just girl talk, and I answered truthfully with a no. Then she asked..."

Sabine started playing with the lighter again. "She asked me if I wanted to kiss her, and I did. It just felt so good. We were inseparable the entire time she was there, but we had different ideas about what we were doing. I fell for her. She just wanted a short fling."

Rowan stared at Sabine. She had always suspected that her masculine friend wasn't interested in boys. It was weird to hear her admit it for the first time. And the fact that she had been seeing a famous model for a few weeks? Was Rowan supposed to say something? What could she say? She decided the best course of action was to stay quiet.

Sabine continued, "I always knew how I was." I would have crushes on girls and not be able to tell anyone. It was better before I was the only legitimate heir left. It wasn't necessary for me to get married. Then my brothers were gone, and I was expected to grow up and continue the bloodline. I tried to hide my feelings, but..." She laid her head on the table. "After Yvonne, after feeling the love of another girl, I couldn't go back. I was a disgrace to the Lowell name and our illustrious history. The night she left, I had the worst panic attack of my life. I thought I was having a heart attack. I didn't get help. I kept myself locked in my room. If it was a heart attack, I wanted it to take me. That's when I decided I was better off dead. It was better than being the solitary dyke who would never be the prefect daughter." She finished her cigarette and let out a big puff of smoke before putting it out in an ashtray that Rowan hadn't noticed before.

Sabine laughed. "It was such a relief. The idea that my suffering would soon be over made me the happiest I'd been in forever." She finally pulled her head up, meeting Rowan's gaze. The exhaustion in her face was more pronounced than before. Her brown eyes were seemingly as old as the earth itself. The hand that wasn't playing with the lighter was unconsciously trying to dig her nails into her palm. If she hadn't been wearing the bracelet, the skin would have probably torn. Sabine slammed the lighter onto the table, making it close.

"I tried to kill myself because of a girl. Isn't that the most pathetic thing you ever heard?" She laughed while her body shook from nerves.

Rowan was someone who thought first and determined the best course of action. This time, she didn't. She jumped from her spot at the table. She rounded the side of it and grabbed Sabine, hugging her as tightly as her arms could. Rowan never considered herself to be good with people. But she couldn't help herself. She couldn't let Sabine feel alone for another moment. She didn't know what to say about the situation, but she did the best she could in that moment, as what Sabine had said caused a maelstrom in her head.

"I'm sorry." Sabine said. "I can't ever be the person you knew again. I'm just too damn tired to try."

Rowan managed to find her voice again. "That's alright. We'll work on this together. You don't have to pretend anymore. You're sick right now, and everyone who loves you is going to help you get better. Me included. I said I'd do anything to help you get better, and I mean what I said."

Sabine slowly reached her arms around Rowan. She hugged back as fat tears rolled down her cheeks.

------------‐------------

"Could you tell me where we're going now?" Sabine asked Rowan. "Not yet!" Rowan said, continuing to pull Sabine forward. Sabine had been back at Hogwarts for only a day. She had come a week after the start of their fourth year. She wanted to at least catch up on her schoolwork a little. Yet here she was being taken to who knows where in the Hogwarts castle, and by Rowan no less! She thought Rowan would be ready to help her catch up at a moment's notice.

"Here we are!" Rowan said as she stopped in front of a door. Sabine looked around. It was just a disused classroom. "You've got to see what's in here!" Rowan said, gesturing to the door. Was this about one of the Cursed Vaults? I might as well see what the deal is.

Sabine opened the door, only to have a bunch of confetti fall on her. She shook her head like a dog. When she opened her eyes again, she saw all her friends. Not only that, but there were cupcakes and a tub of ice with soda bottles in it on one of the tables. Upon closer inspection, the entire room was decorated. There were floating balls of light that looked like stars. Green and gold streamers hung from the walls. On the wall across from the door Sabine was standing in was a banner. On it was the phrase, "Welcome back!"

Sabine turned around. Rowan was watching her reaction to the surprise. "We wanted to surprise you." Rowan said it with a smile. Sabine turned back to the room. Penny walked up to her. "This was all Rowan's idea; she organized everything." Penny gave Sabine a big, warm hug.

Sabine was caught off guard. "Uh... thanks guys! I don't know what to say." She said. Sabine started to nervously laugh. "This isn't too much, is it?" Ben sheepishly asked. "No, no. I'm just surprised, is all." Sabine said, "Why are we doing this?" " Because Rowan said you needed some cheering up. "We didn't need a reason beyond that, considering everything you've done for us." Charlie said. "Not me. I'm just here for the snacks." Merula said. Ismelda nudged her in the ribs. "And maybe because things are boring without you." Merula said it, but more quietly this time.

Rowan walked closer to Sabine. "I didn't tell them why you were absent. You tell them when you're ready." She whispered in her ear. Rowan walked in front of her and turned back to her. "Come on, Jae and I spent all day on these cupcakes! They're red velvet." She said. "Right." Sabine said to follow her.

"Where have you been anyway?" Barnaby asked. Sabine stopped in her tracks. She took a breath and replied, "I was very sick. Now Rowan is helping me get better." She said it with a truthful smile.

[candyk0rn]

How I think the children trio would be as little siblings

This idea randomly came to me while I was sitting outside with my best friend who I kinda see as a sibling

Includes: Qiqi, Klee, and Diona

Warnings: none!

Klee:

Klee is a huge trouble maker, but also not??

She blows stuff up, but she’s not a bad kid

She promises!

Doesn’t mean you take your eye of if her though

Take your eyes off of her for a SECOND and she’s GONE

And next thing you know she’s in solitary confinement

She loves piggy back rides, and will constantly ask for one

She has a lot of energy for such a tiny being, so when she gets tired she passes out no problem!

But that means you have to carry her back home when you are tired too

You and her always have to travel to dragonspine, to visit Albedo

Albedo always has something fun for you and Klee to do together

That’s could be anything from catching snowflakes to making weird potions that could blow up the nearest hilichurl camp

Klee loves spending time with you

She also loves playing hide and seek! Which surprisingly, she’s super good

Qiqi:

Qiqi is very quiet for a child

And she’s MUCH more easy to take care of than Klee

Qiqi has trouble remembering, but you always are stuck in her mind

Sometimes she can’t say your name right, that’s why you made it okay for her to give you nicknames!

Qiqi loves clinging onto your leg so she doesn’t wander off or get lost

She cares for you too much, and it can be kind of depressing

She tries super hard not to forget, but she just does

Qiqi gets jealous if your height most of the time, standing on a stool to make herself appear taller

She hopes she can stay with you forever and ever, and she will try her best not to forget

Diona:

Diona loves hanging out with her big sibling!

It distracts her from her problems with her dad

Diona loves head pats, and with your height, they come easy and quick!

She loves going shopping for someone her age

She likes buying cute things like stuffed animals, cute dresses and such

She knows it’s a lot of money on you but if it gets her some cute clothes she’s alright with it!

Hopefully Dionas dad let you borrow some money!

One of her favorite things is to play tic-tac-toe with you

She’s not sure why but she just thinks it’s so fun!

You know all of the Cat’s Tail’s cats names by heart

She loves spending time with you, no matter the time of day

[poisoned-peppermint]

I made dsmp incorrect quotes you wanna see em of course you do here

Bad: *seductively takes off glasses*

Bad: Wow...

Skeppy: *blushes* Haha... what?

Bad: You're really flipping blurry.

~~~~~~~

Skeppy: Is something burning?

Bad, leaning seductively on the counter: Just my desire for you.

Skeppy: Bad, the toaster is literally on fire.

~~~~~~~

Skeppy: Hey, I’m getting in the shower. Wanna help me out?

Bad: ...Have you never taken a shower before?

~~~~~~~

Skeppy: So don't panic but one of us is possessed by an owl....

George: ....

Dream: .....

Sapnap: ......

Bad: ..Who?

Skeppy: That's the thing we don't-

*Everyone stares at Bad

~~~~~~~

*Everyone is giving advice to Sapnap*

Skeppy: It's okay to ask for help.

Dream: You're not a burden.

Bad: Murder is okay.

George: Your feelings matter. 

~~~~~~~

Dream: Poison is a magic transmutation potion that turns people into corpses.

Sapnap: This knife is actually a magic wand.

George: Meet me in the Denny’s parking lot for a wizard duel.

Bad: *cocks gun* Magic missile.

Skeppy: What the fuck is wrong with you people.

~~~~~~~

Dream: Did you bring Sapnap?

George, gesturing to Skeppy: No, but I brought the next best thing.

Dream: Skeppy? The next best thing would be Bad.

Skeppy: I would be offended, but Bad is freakishly strong.

~~~~~~~

Sapnap: You're a lying piece of shit!

George: Oh yeah? You're the idiot that thinks you can get away with everything you do, WELCOME TO THE REAL WORLD!

Skeppy: I'm leaving and I'm taking Bad with me!

Dream, gathering cards: Aaaaand that's enough Monopoly for today.

~~~~~~~

Sapnap: So anyways have y'all seen Bad?

Dream: I think they went in Skeppy's room 'studying'.

George: Doubt that. I heard groans there.

*Meanwhile in Skeppy's room*

Bad & Skeppy, fighting:

~~~~~~~

Bad: Isn’t it weird that we can’t ride any other animal except horses. Like if horses weren’t a thing, humans would be fucked cause we couldn’t ride any other animals. Like riding animals wouldn’t really be a thing. We should probably be more grateful to horses.

George: Elephants.

Bad: Blocked.

Dream: Camels.

Bad: Extra blocked.

Sapnap: Donkeys.

Bad: Ultra blocked.

Skeppy: That dick.

Bad: ...Followed.

~~~~~~~

Bad, opening a Capri Sun: Guess I'll drink my sorrows away

 ~~~~~~~

Quackity: I’m this close to falling in love with Sapnap.

Karl: Your fingertips are touching.

Quackity: Exactly.

~~~~~~~

Karl: So how’s the food Quackity made?

Sapnap: It's great! Compliments to them.

Karl: *goes to the kitchen*

Karl: You're adorable.

Quackity: *blushes*

~~~~~~~

Bad: Hey guys I just found a new song I really like-

Quackity: Is it about death?

Bad: No.

Sapnap: Is it about drugs?

Karl: Is it about sex?

Bad: NO- it's about happiness and peace and-

Quackity, Sapnap, and Karl:

~~~~~~~

Karl: Made you all playlists!

Karl: Sapnap, yours has only heavy metal, and is dark like your soul.

Karl: Quackity, yours has sad songs and blues to pair with your crippling depression.

Karl: And Bad has the ABBA Gold album. 

~~~~~~~

Karl: I give up. I am so tired.

Bad: Get the emergency supply!

Quackity: *carries Sapnap and places them in front of Karl*

Sapnap: *smiles*

Karl: AND I AM BACK BABY, LET’S GOOO

~~~~~~~

Karl: What’s the announcement, Quackity?

Quackity: It’s a lecture. Bad’s gonna tell us everything they know about sex.

Sapnap: It should be an enjoyable 60 seconds. 

 ~~~~~~~

Bad: Sapnap, you'll be working with Quackity and Karl.

Sapnap: Alright! My fantasy threesome!

Everyone else: *blank stares*

Sapnap: ...Of people on a team.

~~~~~~~

Quackity: We might have gotten into a bar room brawl back in the city.

Karl: Well, that was entirely predictable.

Quackity: One of them punched a gang member.

Karl: Sapnap?

Quackity: Bad, actually.

Karl: Oh, that was going to be my second guess. 

 ~~~~~~~

Bad: Alright, which one of us is gonna check outside?

Karl: Not it!

Sapnap: Not it!

Bad: ...Neither one of you are as dumb as you lead on to be.

~~~~~~~

Karl and Sapnap: *making loud, shouty gorilla sounds at each other*

Quackity:

Bad, exasperatedly: We have a guest. 

 ~~~~~~~

Sapnap: I am darkness. I am a power. I am your worst nightmare. I could kill a man in more ways than you can imagine. I am the night. I am fury, I am a weapon, I am-

Karl: A doll.

Quackity: A cinnamon roll.

Bad: A sweetheart.

Sapnap:

Sapnap: ...stop it. 

 ~~~~~~~

Quackity, pointing to the wall: What color is this?

Sapnap: Gray.

Bad: Grey.

Quackity, turning to Karl: Now tell them what color you think it is.

Karl: Dark white.

~~~~~~~

Karl: We need to distract these guys.

Bad: Leave it to me.

Bad: Centaurs have six limbs and are therefore insects. Discuss.

Sapnap & Quackity: *immediately begin arguing* 

 ~~~~~~~

Skeppy: Bad is too tall for me to kiss them on the lips. What should I do?

Ant: Punch them in the stomach. Then, when they double over in pain, kiss them.

Quackity: Tackle them!

Puffy: Dump them.

Velvet: Kick them in the shin!

Bad: No to all of those! Just ask me to lean down!!

~~~~~~~

Velvet: Christmas lights?

Bad: Check.

Ant: THermos of hot cocoa?

Bad: Check.

Quackity: Santa suits?

Bad: Check.

Puffy: Shovel?

Bad: Check.

Skeppy: Alibi and bail money?

Bad: Check- wait, WHAT?!

~~~~~~~

*Everyone is standing around the broken coffee maker*

Bad: So. Who broke it? I'm not mad, I just wanna know.

Everyone:

Skeppy: ...I did. I broke it.

Bad: No. No you didn't. Velvet?

Velvet: Don't look at me. Look at Ant.

Ant: What?! I didn't break it.

Velvet: Huh, that's weird. How'd you even know it was broken?

Ant: Because it's sitting right in front of us and it's broken.

Velvet: Suspicious.

Ant: No, it's not!

Quackity: If it matters, probably not, but Puffy was the last one to use it.

Puffy: Liar! I don't even drink that crap!

Quackity: Oh really? Then what were you doing by the coffee cart earlier?

Puffy: I use the wooden stirrers to push back my cuticles. Everyone knows that, Quackity!

Skeppy: Okay let's not fight. I broke it. Let me pay for it, Bad.

Bad: No! Who broke it!?

Everyone:

Quackity: Bad... Gumi's been awfully quiet.

Gumi: rEALLY?!

*Everyone starts arguing*

Bad, being interviewed: I broke it. I burned my hand so I punched it.

Bad: I predict 10 minutes from now they'll be at each other's throats with warpaint on their faces and a pig head on a stick.

Bad:

Bad: Good. It was getting a little chummy around here

~~~~~~~

Velvet: How much you wanna bet Bad got a Lap dance from Skeppy?

Ant: If that happend, Quackity can drink free tonight.

Quackity: As much as I love the thought of having free drinks I don't like the idea of Bad receiving a Lap dance from someone other than me.

Velvet: Hey Skeppy, did you give Bad a lap dance?

Skeppy: So what if I did?

Velvet, to Ant: I guess Quackity is drinking free tonight.

Skeppy: Be right back, I'm gonna go cry-

Bad, entering the room: What the muffin??

~~~~~~~

Bad: Skeppy kissed me!

Ant: Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God!

Bad: It was unbelievable!

Ant: Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God!

Velvet: Okay, we wanna hear everything. Ant, get the wine and unplug the phone. Bad, does this end well or do we need tissues?

Bad: Oh, it ended very well.

Ant: Do not start without me! Do not start without me!

Velvet: Okay, alright, let’s hear about the kiss. Was it a soft brush against your lips or was it like a, you know, “I gotta have you now” kind of thing?

Bad: Well, at first it was really intense, you know? And then, oh God, and then we just sort of sunk into it.

Velvet: Ohh... So, okay, were they holding you? Or were their hands on your back?

Bad: First they started out on my waist and then they slid up and then they were in my hair.

Ant and Velvet: Ohhh.

*meanwhile*

Skeppy eating pizza in their house: And, uh, and then I kissed them.

Quackity: Tongue?

Skeppy: Yeah.

Puffy: Cool.

~~~~~~~

Bad: If you can’t beat them, dress better than them

 ~~~~~~~

Bad: Okay okay stop asking me if I'm straight, gay, bi, whatever. I identify as a FREAKING THREAT.

 ~~~~~~

I will be making a part 2 shortly this is just getting to long

[miraculouscontent]

What do you think would be if Agreste family was Childless (read: What if Adrien don't exist)?

I can’t get into too much detail because no Adrien means no Chat Noir and that’s dicey-er territory. Still, I’ll give it a go.

Obvious stuff first:

- Gabriel wouldn’t have as many on-screen moments of “sympathy” since no Adrien hug and no scene with them watching Emilie’s starring role together.

- We’re going to presume that there’s a new cat who is at least competent enough to follow Ladybug’s orders and get the job done.

- No Adrien means no book which means no potions at the very least; we will however presume that Marinette gets a Lucky Charm in “Sapotis” that leads her to Fu, even if the Lucky Charm confuses her so she has to ask Tikki about it (which then leads to Tikki taking her to Fu), so temporary heroes will still be a thing (otherwise this’ll be boring with me shrugging at a bunch of temporary holder episodes).

Anyway, episodes that would be significantly different without Adrien are bolded, episodes that are uncertain (i.e: ones that involve potions) are marked with a *, and episodes that are bolded and italicized outright/possibly would not happen at all:

Season 1

Stormy Weather (no visit to the park, possibly no Alya since Alya’s purpose in coming was to tell Marinette about Adrien; if Alya does show up, possibly just Marinette and Alya being gay moms to Manon)

Evillustrator

Lady Wifi

Princess Fragrance (new cat possibly doesn’t get hit by Princess Fragrance’s perfume, as it was Chat’s idea to open the windows in the first place, which let Princess Fragrance spray her perfume in)

Dark Cupid (new cat possibly not getting shot since they wouldn’t be distracted by confessing to Ladybug)

Mr. Pigeon (new cat likely not allergic to feathers; Marinette would probably still compete in the hat contest though)

Pixelator (new cat may not get shot by Pixelator as Adrien got shot protecting Chloe which... who would protect Chloe?)

Copycat (um... yeah)

The Bubbler (Adrien doesn’t exist, therefore no one for Nino to get akumatized over)

Simon Says

Rogercop (this one’s debatable, but Plagg might not see the bracelet from his vantage point, so he might not cause the whole incident that leads to Roger being fired)

Gamer (no Adrien means that Max and Marinette would be teaming up, so unless Max gets akumatized just out of being beaten by a girl, we’re good)

Animan (no Adrien to set up Nino’s date with Marinette, meaning Alya and Nino aren’t at the zoo, don’t get trapped in the cage, and thus don’t get together)

Darkblade (this one wouldn’t really be different exactly, but this showcases Adrien’s fencing ability while he’s fighting against Darkblade as Chat; it’s not significant but more like a fun fact)

The Pharaoh

Timebreaker (new cat might protect Ladybug differently rather than taking the time to hug AND shield her; possibly no time travel back and Marinette might drop the watch herself since there’s no Adrien to grab it first, though that’s really insignificant since the watch had to be run over by Alix for it to break)

Horrificator (Inspector Jones is different so no Chloe insisting on being the other role, though Mylene would still be chased away; hm, I wonder who Inspector Jones would be if not Adrien?)

The Puppeteer (possibly no Rogercop, so it’d be a different akuma)

The Mime

Guitar Villain

Reflekta (no Adrien, so unless the photographer still puts Juleka in the middle and Chloe insists on being there, which she didn’t in the original as it was only being next to Adrien that she cared about, Juleka wouldn’t be sent to the bathroom)

Ladybug & Chat Noir (Origins - Part 1) (This one is REALLY subjective and debatable so don’t take it too seriously, but it’s possible that the new cat would’ve listened to Plagg’s full instructions and Plagg might’ve talked about Ladybug’s purification; therefore, the new cat might’ve been like, “Hey, are you supposed to purify that or--” “Oh! Right!” meaning no second Stoneheart)

Stoneheart (Origins - Part 2) (Again, only relevant if you assume that Part 1 would have the new cat reminding Ladybug of purification)

Antibug

Kung Food (no Adrien to help Marinette with Chinese; honestly I feel like this is better because the writers would probably have to have her know Chinese instead of being taught terms by a white boy)

Volpina (no Adrien, no book, no Marinette getting upset at Lila dissing Ladybug and thus - in addition to no Adrien for Lila to flirt with - no Ladybug calling Lila out unless she does it differently) (either way, no Volpina in general because there’s no fox hero for her to base herself on, so it’d just be a generic illusion maker if anything)

Season 2

The Collector (no “Volpina” means no “The Collector”)

Prime Queen (depends on whether Ladybug and the new cat are ship-tastic enough for Nadja to do a story on and if the new cat would stand up enough for Ladybug that Ladybug wouldn’t feel the need to barge out)

Glaciator (no Adrien means no disappointed Marinette means no Andre the ice cream man being upset)

Despair Bear (no Adrien to tell Chloe to start being nice means Chloe shall make no attempt to)

Troublemaker (no Adrien pictures means Marinette isn’t as panicked so Penny wouldn’t have to kick everyone out so readily)

Gigantitan (no Adrien, no Gorilla to try to akumatize, so no butterfly to akumatize August)

Riposte (Adrien is apparently Armand D'Argencourt’s best student; thus, no Adrien means that Kagami would just get into the fencing class)

Befana

Frightningale (this one is a BIIIIIG “if”; Chloe would have to care enough to want to be Ladybug without Adrien as the cat, and then Marinette would have to be peeved enough at the idea of Chloe being Ladybug to interrupt, which she technically implies in the original by saying, “Chloé playing Ladybug? No way! Not gonna happen!”)

Gorizilla (no Adrien for Gorilla to lose)

Robostus

Sapotis (again, we’re presuming that Ladybug gets a Lucky Charm that either leads her to Fu or Marinette asks Tikki about the Lucky Charm and Tikki leads her to Fu)

Dark Owl

Syren* (no aqua powers; possible zodiac usage, like Dragon for water powers)

Zombizou

Captain Hardrock (no Adrien for Marinette to get depressed over but she’d obviously still meet Luka, whether on deck or in his room)

Frozer* (no Adrien for Marinette to third wheel for alongside Luka, but Philippe’s ice rink is still in jeopardy so he’ll still be akumatized; also, no ice powers)

Style Queen (new cat very well might not be turned to glitter, meaning no need to go to Fu anyway because the bee actually wasn’t needed to beat the akuma: Plagg/the cat was)

Queen Wasp* (no bee miraculous to lose, no Queen Bee, Audrey may or may not get close to Chloe because Marinette has less reason to help)

Reverser (new cat would get reversed into something else at the very least?)

Anansi (we’re assuming that this would be an episode where Nino gets his miraculous even if he’s not dating Alya; it just wouldn’t involve Alya)

Malediktator (no Queen Bee, no video to get into a huff over)

Sandboy (new cat’s civilian and hero nightmares would be different)

Catalyst (Heroes Day - Part 1) (if Volpina doesn’t happen, Hawk Moth doesn’t have his illusion maker, but that one was more debatable so we’ll presume he gets around it enough or Volpina did happen but very differently) (the subplot about Marinette preparing sweets is likely averted; in the original, Marinette went back on admitting that she lied because of Adrien being a sad boy which made her feel guilty) (bonus that Alya can’t use any “you’re jealous because Lila hit on Adrien” excuse with Marinette because Adrien doesn’t exist)

Mayura (Heroes Day - Part 2) (no Queen Bee so no Queen Wasp, and it’s debatable if Alya and Nino would’ve been close enough to care if/when the other got hit by Dark Cupid’s arrows)

Santa Claws (no Adrien means no final straw for Santa)

Season 3

Chameleon (no Adrien means no akumatization motive for Lila; also, no Adrien means that Marinette isn’t holding back from calling out Lila’s lying and Alya still can’t use the “you’re jealous because aDriEn” excuse, so we’ll presume that Alya trusts Marinette - an insane concept, I know - and looks into Lila’s lies)

Animaestro (no Adrien, no macaron, no last straw for Astruc and Marinette likely wouldn’t even show up for the premiere)

Bakerix

Backwarder (no Adrien love letter to accidentally give to Marianne, though it’d be hilarious to see Marianne’s reaction to being given the prescription; still )

Reflekdoll (no Adrien, no Alya intrusion, no Juleka blaming Marinette for no reason)

Weredad (based on if the love square is even still a thing, this could go any number of ways, but likely wouldn’t happen in the exact same way at least; also, I doubt the new cat would be curious about Marinette being on her own damn balcony)

Silencer

Oni-Chan (no Adrien means no picture for Kagami to get salty over)

Miraculer (no Queen Bee)

Oblivio (new cat might not be lounging around and calling them and Ladybug a couple; even if this episode still did happen, obviously it’d be very different)

Desperada (no Adrien means no guitar scene and no Aspik)

Christmaster (no Adrien gifts means no lie)

Startrain (depending on who the cat is, Ladybug might have to either go it alone or teleport away from the train to get them)

Kwami Buster (if the cat is someone who doesn’t go to Marinette’s school, possibly no Ms. Mendeleiev trying to catch the kwami)

Feast

Gamer 2.0 (this would technically be the first Gamer since “Gamer” very likely didn’t happen; ambiguous how the new cat will handle stressed out Ladybug or if they’re good at games in the first place)

Stormy Weather 2 (no subplot about Marinette delivering Adrien’s homework)

Ikari Gozen (no Adrien for Marinette to worry over so no phone-peeking and no sad Kagami)

Timetagger (new cat may no Cataclysm Bunnyx’s miraculous, which is what caused Bunnyx to be trapped in the past in the first place, unable to return)

Party Crasher (no Adrien, no party)

Puppeteer 2 (no Adrien means no museum means and no DJWifi dating for them to flirt and completely abandon the child they were supposed to watch)

Chat Blanc (no Adrien crush means no gift which means no Chat Noir figuring out Ladybug’s identity)

Felix (no Adrien means no video for Felix to sabotage)

Ladybug (Lila may’ve been called out by “Chameleon,” and even if Marinette was expelled, Alya still doesn’t have the “Adrien” excuse to pull, making it look even worse for her if she refuses to see Lila as a suspect)

Heart Hunter (Battle of the Miraculous - Part 1) (no Adrien means no sad Marinette which means Ladybug would be alert enough to go de-transform first or realize that Hawk Moth is following her) (also, Audrey possibly isn’t in Paris because she was planning on leaving before Chloe and her made up)

Miracle Queen (Battle of the Miraculous - Part 2) (Queen Bee never happened)

[yandere-wishes]

Payment // Twisted Wonderland Yandere! Azul Ashengrotto x Reader//

Just in time for the Octavinelle chapter! I felt like making Azul suffer for a little so there is a bit of angst in here, also thank you so much to the anon who requested this story!

=========================================================

The knocking on his door jolted Azul awake from his nap. His head sprung up eyes wide surveying the layout of his office. When had he fallen asleep? The clock read 6:30 in the afternoon, yet from what he could see the moon had already risen illuminating his office with a ghostly glow. He pinched the bridge of his nose standing up and sighing. How improper of him to fall asleep while reviewing contracts as well as his school work. The knocking continued, it began to echo around the room reverberating off the insides of his skull wedging its self into his brain. louder louder!LOUDER! He marched over to the door ready to send whoever it was on their way. He was too fatigued for pleasantries and politeness. He pulled the door wide open, mouth ajar ready to yell....he never did.There stood (Y/N), eyes bloodshot fresh tear stains tattooed over her cheeks. "I want a contract right now!" she yelled pushing past him, stomping into the office and plumbing down on one of the satin white couches. Her shoulders were slumped, she looked so weak and vulnerable. Azul quickly followed behind her, headache and unfinished work long forgotten. He slipped into the seat beside her, gloved hands gently rubbing her back. Upon the physical contact, she quickly straightened her back. The popping of joints and bones roared over the quiet room. She tried to wipe away her tears, trying to keep the new ones at bay. "He..hesaidhe... he" Her words slurred together, sticking into an incomprehensible phrase. What had happened to her? Azul's mind started falling down a sprawling rabbit whole, listing all the possible horrible things that some mongrel could have done to his precious, innocent, sweet (y/n)...No..they weren't his...they'd never been his...Azul continued rubbing circles over (y/n)'s back, his warm touch sent a caused (y/n)'s sobbing to an almost full stop, her posture relaxed practically melting into his touch. An easy silence blanketed the office, Azul's heart began to speed up. He'd never been this close to her, never touched her before. The moment felt perfect, like the gentle tide washing over his body on a bright sunny day...yes this was just like those rare blissful days back at the Sea of Corals when he'd been permitted to leave his lonely cave. "I want a contract...." Your brittle voice fragmented the irie hush. Azul's blue gaze dropped to the tiled floor, why were you so insistent on that tonight. What could you possibly want so badly that you were willing to make a deal with the devil? Azul's gesture stopped, arm dropping to the couch. "....Why?" It was unlike him to question why someone wanted a contract, he would just provide the pen and paper and smile his signature glowing grin. But something about you made him act like a dame fool. "I-I want..." You couldn't utter a single word without tearing up. What was going on! "Please" Azul leaned over, taking your small hands in his "Just tell me" his tone was too caring unfit of a sea which such as himself. "I want Malleus to love me!" You blurted out, a sharp edge engraved in your tone. Azul's heart sped up ready to break his ribcage, wanting to leave his body and beach it's self like a depressed whale.  You loved...Malleus, Malleus of all people! The moody always complaining prince of the fae. The prized child of NRC. Azul never cared much for the admiration and praise that everyone threw at his feet, but hearing that the dark fae had stolen your heart shattered his. Malleus had everything so why did he have to take the only thing Azul loved? WHY!He was desperate to say no, to shout it, to scream it until his throat went raw. He wanted to tell you that he loved you, that he would always love you. Unlike that arrogant fae who never thought of anything but himself, who was always in a bad mood for the most ridiculous reasons! But alas, Azul's mouth was a graveyard the words dying on his tongue before they got to breathe an ounce of air. His grip tightened hoping that his touch might just relay what he wanted to say. "Azul" his dishearted gaze rose to meet yours, it was his turn to look frail and broken in dire need of assistance. "Can you please make senior Malleus fall in love with me?" It hurt, it hurt so awfully! It felt like a thousand piranhas were biting every inch of his flesh, some had even infiltrated his skull, munching off chunks of his brain. He closed his eyes and sigh "I...I don't know...it could take a few days to find everything...I'll let you know by tomorrow..." The answer would still be no by tomorrow it would always be no. But he couldn't tell you that tonight not when you where so beaten and sad...when you couldn't utter a word without breaking down in tears. You quickly wrapped your arms around him, hugging him tightly as you buried your face in his chest, soaking up the sea salt scent that he dragged everywhere. Azul stiffened, lazily curling and arm around your back and patting it. "Thank you...Thank you so much" your tears began to flow again staining his powder blue vest. In his mind, Azul noted to never wash that vest again.Early the next morning Jade found his dorm leader passed out on the couch in his office. His glasses had fallen on the floor somehow still intact. His short silver hair was a mess. His school jacket had been discarded over his desk along with his shoes, one being placed neatly under the table while the other rested on its side over his jacket. "Boss?" The older twin was dumbfounded by the sight in front of him. Azul Ashengrotto, the well-kept deal maker of the school looked like a pathetic manta ray. "Boss!" Nope, nothing. With a sigh, Jade walked over to the couch, he grabbed the sweaty fabric of Azul's white button-up and forcefully swung him forward. "Azul!!" this was the loudest sternest tone he'd ever used on his dorm leader, the fear of what he may do to him washed over Jade causing him to break into a nervous sweat. Gradually the silver-haired second year's eye blinked open, he ran a hand over his face as he groaned loudly. "Time" He grumbled while cracking his neck from side to side. "Past eight am, classes start in ten...god what the hell happened to you last night?" For a minute Azul's mind blurred, the events of last night too distant and foreign to properly recall. The then it hit him like a typhoon, everything (y/n) had said, how she'd been such a mess, how she'd ask her help on the only matter he wished she hadn't."(Y/N)? The first-year who's in the ramshackle dorm?" A crease formed between Jade's brows, his mouth morphing into a scowl. "Is she refusing to pay? I'll send Jade to have a little chat with her, if that's the case." His fingers dove into his pocket fishing out his cellphone, he scrolled through look for his twin's number. "Put it away" Azul ordered, he slowly pushed himself to his feet, mumbling a couple of curses. "BUT!.." Jade's eyes widen, why was Azul acting so weird today? "Look.." The silver-haired man grabbed his coat slipping from under his right shoe. "It's not that she wasn't paid, heck she hasn't even signed the dame contract yet and frankly  I don't want her to!" The older leech twin stiffened, his mismatched eyes surveyed the office look for any signs of alcohol or party pills. That was the only reasonable explanation for why Azul was being so uncharacteristic. Azul marched back to the couch after having slipped on both shoes, he flopped down on his stomach dramatically letting out a high pitch cry. He angled his head to the side to stare up at his dormant, ocean blue eyes fogged with grief like a kicked seal. "I...I think...I love...her" even Azul couldn't believe the words coming from his mouth. He was notorious for his scheming and cunning nature being capable of getting whatever he wanted. Yet here he was moaning and groaning over a girl, a simple magicless darling girl.Jade was beginning to get slightly irritated, his dorm leader the great and powerful Azul was acting like a lovesick school girl. Reluncity he took a seat next to the Cecaelia, he began patting his back the way one would a small child. "The way I see it, you have the advantage here." Jade paused waiting for his words to sink in. Azul simply shifted his orbs to stare directly into Jade's golden ones. "How so" he murmured. "Why not provide her with a love potion. They are simple to come by and rather cheap in the noir market. In return for your services, she'll provide you with a pact to her soul. That way it wouldn't matter who she's in love with, she'll always have to return to you." Azul rolled over, curling his lips into a sly smirk.Excitement bubbled inside of you as you ran towards the Octavinelle dorm. You were so close to finally getting your happily ever after! So close to your true love! You pushed the decorative wooden doors open with all your force. "Azul!" Your cheerful voice bounced off the walls of his office reverberating back to you. Your shimmering eyes scanned the large room trying to find the man that held the last key to your happiness. Your sight finally landed on the silver-haired businessman man sat smugly at his desk, head leaning forward on entwined fingers. "(Y/n)! you finally made it my dear." He seemed to perk up upon seeing you a charming smile grazing his lips. You quickly ran over to the organized desk, slamming your hands on the oak wood you joyously yelled"Do you have it?!" "Yes right here--"You ripped the contract parchment from his hands and, using a golden fish skeleton pen you found on the desk you started to write the first letter of your name. 'Wait!" Azul reached out gripping your wrist tightly to prevent you from continuing. "Maybe you should read the fine print..." His voice trailed off never before had he wanted someone to read the fine print before heck he'd talked all so many people out of reading it! "No, no it's fine I'll pay whatever it takes!" You tugged your wrist from his fingers and rapidly scribbled the last few letters. You stood up straight reaching your hands out to Azul for him to drop whatever contraption he had conjured to help Malleus accept your confession. The sea witch tossed you a tiny glass bottle with a sickening pink like liquid inside. "Mix that into some chocolates or a drink or whatever you are going to give him, just make sure he eats it." You laughed as tears of joy slipped from the corners of your eyes. Spinning on your heels you dashed the door before Azul's voice stopped you dead in your tracks. "Aren't you forgetting your payment?"You turned with a frown on your face. "I-I um didn't bring anything with me, just tell me what it is you want and I'll go get it!" but Azul just shook his head and signaled with his finger for you to come back. Disheartedly you walked back to the desk, as you did so, Azul slipped a reflective colored oval into his mouth. As you stepped closer he grabbed your upper arm leaning you over his desk as his lips pushed upon your own. His teeth bite harshly into your lip causing you to which and open your mouth a bit, just enough for him to slip his tough in. Your mouth overflew with the taste of salt as something scaly slipped down your throat. As soon as you had swallowed the invasive object, Azul retracted. He clutched your chin with his fingers, tilting your head up. "Jade proposed I charge you a soul-bonding spell, in which your soul would become mine." Upon his words your eyes widen, a cold sweat broke over your body. "But being the saint that I am, I chose to charge you something else." You prayed in your mind that your payment would only be the kiss that whatever he had slipped into your mouth would have just been a joke, but your hope died down as he continued "I chose an attachment spell instead, much more effective and beneficial for the both of us. You can't step further than 12 meters from me or your body will start to morph into that of a tiny little fish. Really it's a gift it aids me in keeping you safe! "Once again tears started to fall from your eyes just like the night before. You're happily ever after shattering before your eyes. Azul let go of your chin and walked over from his desk. He laced his finger with your own and practically dragged you to the door, only stopping to retrieve his hat from the coat rack. "I believe we should get started on those chocolates from Malleus don't you agree? After all, he too should get a taste of what it feels like to want something yet for it to be so out of reach!""But not to worry you, poor unfortunate soul! Now that I have you in my clutch I'm NEVER letting you get away!"

[gameofdrarry]

Wizards Hearts Recs: Established Relationship

Wizards Hearts was a four-month-long Drarry reading fest. Players were given a playing deck of 52 tropes, and were asked to find 52 different fics to read and comment on to fill their decks. To prevent the same few fics from being read, fics were restricted to only being used for the game three times before being considered ineligible for further points. The tropes and submissions list can be found here.

Check out the masterlist of fics for this trope below the cut!

📜 Malfoy Meet Muggle by PenNoire Rated:  Teen Words:  25,326 Tags:  Animagus, Established Relationship, Fluff, Humour Summary:  Draco Malfoy is surprisingly happy in a comfortable relationship with Harry Potter. Unfortunately, Harry wasn't brought up doing things the wizarding way, and if Draco wants to make this work, he's going to have to learn to integrate the magical with the muggle. Really, how bad can it be? ❤️ Read on AO3 or FFN

📜 A Nightmare Waiting to Happen by triggerlil Rated:  Explicit Words:  21979 Tags: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Claustrophobia, Eye Trauma, Eye Gouging, enucleation, Childhood Trauma, Vomiting, Choking, Unreliable Narrator, Horror, Body Horror, Clones, Abuse, Nightmares, Zombies, Cannibalism, Sectumsempra (Harry Potter), Legilimency (Harry Potter), Hospitals, Character Death In Dream, Antagonist James in Dream, bug horror, Snakes, Moths, Child Death in Dream, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Established Relationship, Hogwarts, Post-Hogwarts, Abusive Dursley Family (Harry Potter), Attempted Suicide, Suicidal Thoughts, Torture, Corpses, Graphic Description of Corpses, Hurt/Comfort, Curses, Magically Powerful Harry Potter, Protective Draco Malfoy, Husbands, No Explicit Sexual Content, Homophobic Language, Sexist Language, Bullying Summary:  Draco sat beside Harry's bed as the man breathed deeply; his eyes were moving rapidly beneath his eyelids, and every so often, he would twitch or part his lips. Draco couldn’t imagine what was going on in Harry’s mind, but he clutched his husband’s hand, wishing he could take his place, do anything to help. Harry Potter is cursed into a nightmare-verse—escaping one nightmare only causes him to fall deeper through the layers of his subconscious—will he be able to free himself, or will his deepest fears swallow him whole? ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Age is just a number by gnarf Rated:  Teen and Up Words:  1555 Tags: Old Age, Humor, Fluff, Established Relationship, Dementia, Plot Twists, Shoplifting, Just Add Kittens, Muggle London, HP Fluff Fest 2020 Summary:  Married for decades, their life is perfect. Until Harry gets a call and hears the following words "Mr Potter, we caught your husband stealing ten large packs of King Sized condoms." ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Our Dreams, Our Pride by ahhhnorealnamesallowed Rated:  Mature Words:  10319 Tags: Hermione Granger is a Good Friend, Healer Draco Malfoy, Healer Harry Potter, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Holidays, a very british coach holiday, Ireland, POV Alternating, Swearing, discussion of sex and sexual acts, Slice of Life, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, (or very little plot), Magic University - Freeform, Post-Secondary, Getting Together, Established Relationship Summary:  For six years, Harry has promised Draco a 'big thing' for their anniversary. This year is the year Harry is going to make it happen, even if he does so in a very Harry Potter way. Including last-minute vacation planning, some very sassy old people, a coach bus, and less anniversary sex than expected. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 No Wizard Is an Island by Novaa Rated:  Mature Words:  50009 Tags: HP:EWE, Post-Hogwarts, Ensemble Cast, Slow Burn, Quidditch, Getting Back Together, Established Relationship, Ministry of Magic Employee Hermione Granger, Auror Ron Weasley, Auror Harry Potter, Healer Draco Malfoy, Apothecary Draco Malfoy, Quidditch Player Ginny Weasley, Slice of Life, Harry/Draco Big Bang 2018, Community: harrydracobang Summary:  For a life is made of the people living it, and no wizard is an island. A twenty-years journey in the intertwined lives of Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Draco and Harry. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 The Arrangement by RurouniHime Rated:  Explicit Words:  65746 Tags: From Sex to Love, Established Relationship, Past Relationship(s), Domestic, Requited Love, Making Out, Jealousy, Falling In Love, Angst, Confessions, Moving In Together, Introspection, Pining, Community: help_haiti Summary:  It's worked for years. Why change it now? ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Training Exercises by spookywoods Rated:  Explicit Words:  1313 Tags: Auror Draco Malfoy, Blindfolds, Hand Jobs, Married Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, It's Curry Night at the Malfoy-Potter Residence!, so you know it will be hot, Terrible smut and terrible puns, here all week Summary:  Harry comes home from work to find Draco sitting in the dining room in the dark, wearing a blindfold and little else. “It’s for training,” Draco says. “Training?” “Sensory and environmental magic.” “I could help you train,” Harry says. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Take a trip into my garden by Andithiel Rated:  Explicit Words:  5974 Tags: Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Porn with Feelings, Established Relationship, Smut, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, First Time Bottoming, Draco in lingerie, Bisexual Harry Potter, Rimming, Anal Sex, Really there might be too much feeling for it to count as pwp, As usual when I write, Enthusiastic Consent Summary:  Harry has only been dating Draco for about two months, but he’s already obsessed with the git. And he knows that today, Draco has something special planned, something that includes him being dressed in skimpy lingerie. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Forget-Me-Nots and Narcissus by triggerlil Rated:  Mature Words:  14430 Tags: Piano Player Draco Malfoy, Wand Maker Harry Potter, Summer, Domestic, Work partners - Freeform, Established Relationship, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Post-Hogwarts, Wakes & Funerals, Grief/Mourning, Minor Character Death, Gardens & Gardening, Panic Attacks, apple picking, Wandmaking (Harry Potter), Classical Music, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort Summary:  His long pale fingers travelled across the keys, the sound of the piano cresting and falling, one moment soft and enticing, in the next fast and sure. The first few buttons of his white shirt were undone, revealing a pale chest and thin lines of scars; the sleeves rolled up to his elbows to reveal strong forearms, one marred by a smudge of black ink. Or in which Draco is overcome by grief, and Harry is there to keep him afloat. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Through the Window, Clear Skies by tackytiger Rated:  Mature Words:  1415 Tags: Falling In Love, Idiots in Love, Moving In Together, Boyfriends, Domestic, Potions Master Draco Malfoy, Emotionally Repressed, True Love, Mention of wanking, mention of fucking, but mostly just love, Engagement, Drarry Discord Writers Corner Drabble Challenge Summary:  What would happen if Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy moved in together, too soon after they started kissing and then fucking and not hating each other anymore? Will Draco insist on a wine rack? Or: Domestic Drarry with a bare hint of angst. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Sweet Nothings by vivi1138 Rated:  Mature Words:  1985 Tags: Major Character Death, Character Death, Minor Character Death, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Depression, Grief/Mourning, Loneliness, Hallucinations, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, POV Draco Malfoy, Established Relationship, Hopeful Ending, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Muteness, Terminal Illnesses, Physical Disability, Loss of strength, Bodily Fluids, Heavy Angst, Hospitalization, Missions Gone Wrong, Auror Partners, Minor Astoria Greengrass/Draco Malfoy, Afterlife, Mental Health Issues, hopelessness Summary:  What do you do when you lose the one you love? After a raid goes wrong, Draco navigates the waters of his grief and may very well lose himself in the process. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Love Found by peachpety Rated:  Explicit Words:  7500 Tags: Double Agent Draco Malfoy, BAMF Harry Potter, Hogwarts Sixth Year, love realizations, Boys Kissing, Legilimency (Harry Potter), Occlumency (Harry Potter), mind connections, Intense Emotional Action Sequences, Canon Dumbledore Death, Established Relationship, Teenage Boyfriends, Boys In Love, Non-graphic Mentions/Recalls of Offscreen Sexual Activity Between Consensual Minors, Magic and Emotions Conveyed as Color, Threats of Physical Violence and Intimidation, References to Past Forced Submission, Killing Death Eaters, Eventual Happy Ending, Minor References to Past Snape/Lucius Summary:  During Harry’s sixth year, Draco Malfoy joins the Order as a double-agent and continues with his task to get the Death Eaters into the castle as assigned by Voldemort. Draco succeeds with his mission the evening Harry returns from the caves with Dumbledore. The boys reunite on the Astronomy Tower and, with the Death Eater’s arrival, are forced to engage in a fight, driving Harry to come to terms with his feelings about true friendship and romantic love. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Christmas Is For Sex (and Love), So Give It To Me by GoldenTruth813 Rated:  Explicit Words:  53218 Tags: PWP, Established Relationship, Christmas, Bondage, misuse of frosting, making gingerbread houses, coming without touching, Blowjobs, Fingering, anal penetration, Rimming, misuse of fairy lights, Praise Kink, Nipple Clamps, erotic massages, Lingerie, Harry in Lingerie, Butt Plugs, Masterbation, Dirty Talk, Overstimulation, Topping from the Bottom, Ice Play, misuse of snowballs, misuse of brandy custard, veritasium, Public Sex, misuse of christmas candles, Wax Play, floating blow jobs, bubble baths, Candy Canes, misuse of candy canes, sex with feelings, Clubbing, naughty letters, babysitting teddy, Edging, healing past trauma, really so much more than sex, but lots of sex too, spiked hot cocoa, Drunk confessions, Anal penetration with a foreign object, french!draco, Switching Summary:  Draco buys Harry an Advent House, intent on helping Harry create all new holiday memories, and have a lot of great sex in the process. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 there’s a trick with a dragon I’m learning to do by curiouslyfic Rated:  Explicit Words:  20000 Tags: Politics, economics, social commentary, international relations, mature characters, complex relationships, intellectual comradeship, working together to achieve a common goal, sharp dressers, snark, banter, armchair sex, wall sex, desperate kissing, orgasm denial, playful biting, Machiavellian intrigue, wizard banking, Potterverse ghosts and goblins, pursuit, subtle seduction (i.e. life-saving and/or political acts that can be interpreted as courtship), and frivolous decadence Summary:  Harry’s live-in’s a workaholic being courted — harassed — by an array of weeping minions and an assortment of overprivileged pricks. Harry’s bloody portraits are being harassed — courted — by, well, an assortment of things Harry doesn’t even want to think about. Harry’s had a long week already and so far, his weekend’s not looking much better. At least he can say with certainty there's no place like home... ❤️ Read on Dreamwidth

📜 Last Offices by tackytiger Rated:  Mature Words:  6737 Tags: Major Character Death, Character Death, Blood and Injury, Memories, Unhappy Ending, Wakes & Funerals, Falling In Love, Sad Harry Potter, Preparation of a body for burial, Non-Linear Narrative, Flashbacks, Getting Together, Grief/Mourning, Happy Memories Summary:  It didn't seem fair that Malfoy was dead, and Harry was supposed to just keep on living without him. He had lost enough people to know that he probably would keep on going—his stubborn heart was still beating, after all, even though it felt like it was going to break. But first, he had to get through the laying out of the dead—those old Pureblood funeral rites—even if every time he touched Malfoy's too-cold body, he was reminded of how things used to be, and how things might have been. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Love Is by xErised Rated:  Teen and Up Words:  26529 Tags: Emotional Roller Coaster, Angst with a Happy Ending, Established Relationship, Post-Hogwarts Summary:  Aurors Harry Potter and Ron Weasley are presumed dead during a mission gone wrong. Their partners — Draco and a pregnant Hermione — refuse to believe that they're gone, even after a year of their absence. A tale of loss, longing and love, with a happy ending. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Making A List and Checking It Twice by blithelybonny Rated:  Explicit Words:  20758 Tags: Porn with some plot, Established Relationship, Kink Exploration, Kink Negotiation, Dom/sub, Making Out, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, Semi-Public Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Masturbation, Voyeurism, Dirty Talk, Spanking, Frottage, Rimming, Sex Toys, Butt Plugs, Subdrop, Aftercare, Bathing/Washing Summary:  ON HIATUS - WILL BE COMPLETED -- A life-changing event is headed Draco and Harry's way - what better way to celebrate than by checking a few things off the old sexual bucket list? ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Dreams That You Dare to Dream Really Do Come True by Drarrelie Rated:  Explicit Words:  11751 Tags: Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Established Relationship, The Burrow (Harry Potter), Birthday, Harry Potter's Birthday, Birthday Party, Birthday Presents, Birthday Sex, Birthday Smut, Sexual Fantasy, Sex Toys, Sex Toys Under Clothing, Secret use of sex toys in public, Internalised Kink Shame, Praise Kink, Consent, Enthusiastic Consent, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Blow Jobs, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Porn with Feelings, Fluff, Light Dom/sub, Dom Harry Potter, Sub Draco Malfoy, Top Harry Potter, Power Bottom Draco Malfoy, POV Harry Potter, Don't copy to another site, Fanart Welcome, Podfic Welcome Summary:  Today, Draco’s new boyfriend turns nineteen and the annoying tosser has refused to present a wish list. It’s not Draco’s fault if he felt compelled to get a little creative, right? ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Up the Duff by CorvetteClaire Rated:  Explicit Words:  86755 Tags: Mpreg, Magical Pregnancy, Fluff, Smut, Light Angst, Wizengamot, Unspeakables (Harry Potter), Snarky Malfoy-style Humor, Snarky Draco Malfoy, Harry's Thing with Walls, Adorable Toddlers, Pregnant Draco, Protective Harry, Desperate Malfoys Summary:  Draco Potter is hugely pregnant and (much to his surprise) enjoying himself. He loves having Harry fuss over him and looks forward to adding another Potter to their little family. Unfortunately for Draco, his parents have found out about their impending grandchild and have no intention of letting him separate them from this child, as he did from Bob (Felix). Their attempts to force their way into Draco's life may bring down even greater troubles on his head when the wizarding world at large finds out that Draco Potter, née Malfoy is up the duff! Or The fic that answers the burning questions... How many servings of McDonald's french fries can a pregnant wizard eat in a single day? Just how adorable and persuasive can a quarter-Veela toddler get before his fathers sell him to the Goblins? Is it possible to conceal a pregnant belly the size of a Hogwarts carriage under a glamour? What could be more ruthless and dangerous than Malfoys in need of an heir? Will Harry and Draco ever agree on a name for their child? Are girls really easier (and will our heroes ever find out)? ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 what the body wants is coolness by lastontheboat Rated:  Teen and Up Words:  13428 Tags: Day At The Beach, Established Relationship, First Time in Public, draco overthinks things, harry is affectionate, Beach Quidditch, no smut just fade to black, HP Drizzle Fest 2020, Community: hp_drizzle, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE Summary:  "Are you done primping yourself yet?" Draco asked, feeling mulish. "We can still meet your friends on time if we leave now, but we'll have to walk quickly." Harry rolled his eyes. "It's a beach day, Draco," he said patiently. "Not a pureblood society event." "Yes, well, not all of us have the goodwill of the rest of the wizarding world to fall back on when we commit acts of social barbarism." ~~~ Draco and Harry have been seeing each other for months, and Harry decides the best way to tell their friends is to bring Draco to a group beach outing. Draco's given up enumerating all the ways this plan could go wrong. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 A Memorable Speech by Samunderthelights Rated:  Teen and Up Words:  1300 Tags: Drarropoly: A Drarry Game/Fest, Drarry, Fluff, Silly, Weddings, Established Relationship, Short & Sweet, Don't copy to another site Summary:  Harry is asked to give a speech at Teddy's wedding, but when he gets flustered, it becomes a speech the wedding guests will remember for a long time. ❤️ Read on AO3

[twstedoven]

The Bucketlist Azul x reader Chapter One.

Unedited

word count: 1,119

Author’s note: 

Before this chapter, there's a short prologue to be read. You don't have to read it as it's not important, but it is just there if anyone is curious. I don't know how to link it sadly. As always constructive criticism is always helpful :)

The hail of rain ricocheted against the worn glass skylight. Like bullets shattering the only defense line, the so-called Ramshackle dorm viciously waved its imaginary white flag to Mother natures fury. Mold coated the tattered barrier filling the blank canvas resembling a painting. Countless of fauna sheltered under a demolished room professing it as theirs. Even the undead roam in the domain, creating nothing but trouble for a specific feeble student. 

Fits of cough joined the melody of the coarse wind. Under several duvets lay a (hair-colored) young lady suffering the bitter cold as her teeth grind against each other, pleading for the weather to calm down quickly. She focused on the little lit wax of a candle, directing her thoughts on the events that occurred in the past five months. In her Grandmother's attic, the scattered dust-looking glass, a coffin, and the talking floating feline seemed all to hallucinate from her medication's effects. Unfortunately, this wasn't all true as her companion would bring her back to the actuality of Twisted Wonderland. Speaking about her companion, their he dozes on the end of the bed, oblivious to the somber mood emitting from the female.  

Letting out a sigh, she left her haven of safety, attempting to tire herself out.  Her socks' woolen sole proceed on the timber glossed floor, gliding as if it was her skating rink. Every night this was a repetition of the same actions. Insomnia played a role in hindering her sleeping habits. Humming a child lullaby, she stared down at the ground walking in a straight line as her arms formed a T. In the girl little world, she was on a high tightrope attempting not to fall on the hazardous base of dirt. As childish as it seemed, she enjoyed these threatening situations. It wasn't like she was a masochist but instead, she couldn't care about her health and safety, mostly when she haves six more months to live. The pills' resources began its decline when your thrust in a world with no knowledge of the illness; shes diagnosed. The disease suddenly became an essential condition to take seriously. 

"Thud"

The humming ceases as her eyes widen at the sudden fall. It seemed the ability of movement collapsed. Letting out a huff, she stared at her hopeless legs as they were unresponsive to her futile attempts to get back up. The (hair-colored) drained student was sick of life—no home to go back. No family to see her, especially her doting Grandmother. Gripping hard on the thin material, she finally cracked. The agony of a screamed escaped her mouth, shouting obscenity of phrases. Letting go of all her locked emotions. This was just her everyday nightly routine.

"Man, you look like someone punched both of your eyes."

The little feline spoke. He stared down at her exhausted build in concern. He furrowed his brows, "Did you not get any sleep last night again?". Her head rose from its position as they were both situated in the kitchen table. "Yes, Grim, thank you for your concern." "well, then don't act like some gloomy weirdo!! We have classes soon, and your actions are going to damper my mood." Grim hovered towards the fruit bowl, which consisted of a couple of slow decaying bananas. "Here, take this, it will boost your energy straight away, human." He smirked to himself, pleased at his effort in helping. Reluctantly (name) grabbed the edible berry, Peeling away the skin while munching on the snack. 

"C'mon, the more we stall, the more we'll miss Mister Crewel potion class." tugging on the adolescent uniform sleeve as if he was pleading like a child for attention. Every day, Grim would beseech to hurry her actions. She nodded her head while throwing the skin of the fruit in the wastebasket. Adjusting her uniform one more time, she closed the ruptured door, following Grim towards the prestigious academy. 

Last night outburst of her cries luckily heard from her roommates of ghosts. They couldn't do much except comfort (name). It was the dawn of sunrise where a miracle of her legs functioned again. Stagnant towards her bed, she collapsed and gained thirty minutes of sleep until Grim jerk her forcing her to get up.  "Good Morning (name) and Grim," the male's polite voice greeted the pair. Arrange behind them stood an attractive blue-haired student labeled Deuce. The first-year associated with the nonmagic user and a wannabe magician as well as close friends. She smiled softly at him while Grim excitedly addresses the first year about anything. 

(Name) was silent throughout the entire walk, only joining in the conversation if directed towards her.  Missing from the iconic quadruple unit was trouble maker Ace. From Deuce perspective, he has gotten in issue with dorm leader Riddle Roseheart leading him cleaning toilets. 

The chatter died down as the trio halted at a scene unravel in front of them. Another pair of mischievous students cornered a helpless freshman. One of them was holding a parchment taunting his fellow peer. It was clear that the incapable student was struggling to keep his tears rolling down his face. 

Mutters of the people looked at the boy, remorseful of his actions. The Leech brothers were not twins to be played with, especially under the control of the manipulative sea witch Azul Ashengrotto. Lacking the uniform tie, Floyd leans more towards him, grinning at his misery. "ah~ little shrimpy, you already knew the outcome with this contract, but you still signed it," his hand trapped him against the stone cobble structure.  His brother stood their just smiling. They were cold and ruthless as the mood around them was thick air.

Enough of watching the unfortunate victim and the sadist pair, Deuce grabbed the frail female hand, dragging her away from the depressing scene. "Oi, don't leave me behind!!" Grim shouted, following both them hastily. "I swear in the rest of my days in Twisted Wonderland I'll never make a deal with them." Deuce declared, holding her hand still. After a reasonable distance away from the Leech twins, he looked at his friends. "Promise me you'll never make a deal with them?" Grim let out a prideful huff. "of course, I won't, knowing their nothing but cruel fishes, I won't fall for the small tricks." (name) didn't answer back, eyes still observing the recent segment. As much as she knows Octavinelle devious nature, she couldn't help but curious about making a deal. 

"(Name)?"

The freshman and the feline watched her waiting for her reply. 

"sure" 

Soon after, they were back with their average banter of discussion. Unknowing to them, a pair of dark navy blue eyes followed (Name) marking her the next victim to his miserable contract. 

[sepublic]

Something Ventured, Someone Framed

EDALYN CLAWTHORNE

LILITH CLAWTHORNE

CLAWTHORNE FAMILY

WE HAVE CONFIRMATION ON THE FAMILY NAME!!!

...Okay, with that out of the way and off my chest, I LOVED this episode! 

Firstly, I love how the show is addressing and exploring Luz’s frustration with Eda not exactly helping her explore witch society, while also admitting that Eda is doing this out of a place of concern and not wanting Luz to be hurt like her. But at the same time, Eda KNOWS that Luz is feeling stifled and she of all people doesn’t want to tell someone else what to do... As she said earlier, it’s best for Luz to figure out how she feels about the system. And while she does, Eda will be supporting her the whole way! Even fixing all of her past mistakes, of a few of which were really hilarious and impressive (the moving, sentient graffiti was an amazing gag)! I just... LOVE how much Eda cares for Luz and is willing to put herself into an uncomfortable situation for her sake!

Principal Bump is actually a cool dude! I had my suspicions ever since Episode 3 (what with him going out of his way to place Willow in the track she wanted to be in... yeah he tried to dissect Luz, but at the time he thought she was just a really advanced Abomination). Then Covention had him say “I failed you as a teacher” to a kid... Which while harsh to say in front of a crowd, is ultimately a line that puts the responsibility on himself, and not the student.

And it shows! I’m not sure if a lot of people in the Boiling Isles just... don’t care for Bellows’ reign in particular. Is there some form of quiet, conscious dissent going on? As a surprisingly benevolent principal (not including the detention), Bump is genuinely willing to look past Eda’s criminal status and even bend the law just so his students (and Luz herself) gain ‘enriching’ knowledge and experience from interacting with a person/people from another world! With Bump, he seems to be the kind of person who’d much rather focus on rehabilitating and helping reintegrate a person into society, over just punishing and isolating them. That I have to respect!

(Although that Detention... thing is a bit too far when it comes to ‘rehabilitating’. Also it’s going to be weird re-watching those scenes knowing the Detention Monster is just a regular dude who acts like a monster for his job.)

Mattholomule is... Well, he’s a jerk like Dana said. Not much else to say here. But he’s also her favorite jerk, so I guess we have something to look forward to! Also, him becoming president of the HAS seems a bit of a pyrrhic victory, seeing as how he already admitted to the club that he lied to get appreciation. He really didn’t think this through, did he?

Also GUS! Gus, my baby boy. He’s incredibly smol, and it’s because he’s actually really young for his grade! That joke with his rebellious illusion was great, and it was cool seeing Emira and Edric as a casual, background-character joke! And when he raised his hand I deadass thought he’d deck Mattholomule in the face (not that I’d blame him). The fact that promotional art for the episode had him getting physical with Mattholomule and Dana joking about getting into a fight certainly didn’t help. Likewise, I was pretty glad to see an episode centering on him (since just about everyone else from the main cast got focus... Not sure if Hooty counts. Would Hooty’s Moving Hassle count?), and it was neat to switch things a bit to have him as the protagonist. I think it’s always neat when that happens, and it helps us see how others see Luz, our main protagonist!

(Willow, you’re so precious and amazing I love you. Looking out for your girlfriend and being the voice of reason.)

But back to what REALLY got my eye... YOUNG EDA! YOUNG EDA HAS ORANGE HAIR! And she’s freaking adorable... You are my angel...

Her being in the Potions track makes sense, but it makes me wonder if that happened before or after the curse? Some of her magic graffiti had the words ‘Hoot’, but that might’ve happened during her time at school? It’d be interesting if part of her interest in the Potions Track was to help curb her own curse, or if later on her school track just conveniently ended up working out. There’s always the possibility that since Bump is willing to accommodate his students according to their needs, he switched Eda to the Potions Track after she got cursed. Who knows? Either way, Young Eda is my precious baby girl... I would give the whole WORLD to you...

(And now I’m a little depressed imagining Eda having innocent, carefree days and fun at school and enjoying her friendship with her sister, only for the curse and/or some other incident(s) to cause a falling-out with the system and disgrace.)

On a minor note, when @disneytva released that one infographic showing off each school track and a corresponding image, we have yet to see the screenshots for the Bard, Fortune Tellers, and Healing Coven? AKA we’ll definitely get more of Hexside this season and I can’t wait!

I really loved reading about Eda’s pranks as a child. What a wonderful trouble-maker who knows exactly what she’s doing. But what I really appreciate is the one report mentioning how she caused an entire lunch fight just to get back Lilith’s lunch money! Lilith shows she cares about Eda (in her own flawed way), and we see how Eda cares for Lilith! I just WANT these two to be happy!

(Also I want to see young Lilith)

I was thinking about it and “Look Hoo’s Talking” mentioned it as well, but there’s a ‘mystery thief’ (AKA the person that stole Luz’s lunch money)? At first I wasn’t paying attention, but then the report specifically mentioned they worked with Eda and Lilith to save the school from the giant, sentient Abomination. Is this the favorite character from Season 2 that Dana talked about??? A peer from Eda and Lilith’s class???

(By the way, did Bump write those reports on Eda’s behavior? Whoever it is apparently had the obligation to clean up the Griffin-vomit but took a break, which... I love you Eda. But that dude totally deserves a break from your pranks.)

It was really touching to see Eda interacting with Hooty this episode. Given the implications that she may have made Hooty herself, it was really kind... But at the same time, I can see why Hooty’s behavior convinced Eda to enroll Luz in school.

And while Eda mentioned that she knows Luz is smarter than the ‘One Witch, One Coven’ nonsense... What if she and Luz have a falling-out because Luz buys into the system???

...I mean, I’m not too sure about that. But mostly, it seems like an assigned track is mandatory. Unless Eda pulls off some special treatment for Luz the human, I REALLY want to see which track Luz will be placed into! Her expertise is light spells, which seems like it’d be in the Illusion track... But we already have Gus, Emira, and Edric. Earlier I discussed with @fermented-writers-block about Luz possibly getting into the Healing or Beast-Keeping Covens, what with her relationship with the symbolism of Azura-Hecate and her own character motifs. I can’t wait to find out!

(Assuming something tragic doesn’t happen to prevent Luz from attending Hexside... could you imagine?)

[imagine-darksiders]

Cold Hands, Warm Heart

Chapter 11 - What are friends for? 

AAAAT LAAAAAASSTTT! I am so sorry it’s taken like, half a year but life has been getting in the way a bit. I’m really going to try and be a bigger presence on this site from now on. x

Shit’s been so freaking terrible and depressing lately but hopefully this will cheer at least some people up and it’s the longest chapter by FAR. So, distract yourself for a while <3 

Words: 18,204 

Tags: Panic attack, anxiety, bruises, hurt/comfort, found family, the power of friendship™, subtle flirting with a giant woman ;), fluff, hugs, angst. OMG the angst. 

-----

There's an undeniable air of unease cloaking the village of Tri Stone as Eideard trundles up the steps to Muria's garden - one, wrinkled hand tugging mercilessly on a beard that has been subjected to the rough treatment since Death had returned several hours earlier.

Any elation at seeing the Tears flow through their home for the first time in years evaporated when the makers saw what state the old Horseman was in. Eyes wilder than a hurricane, the rippling muscles of his shoulders pulled taut enough to snap with just a little more pressure, he'd strode rigidly down into the village and the air behind him seemed to waver in the heat of his molten rage.

And then, hushed uncertainty shifted into horror upon seeing the tiny, limp figure he had cradled against his chest.

Eideard met him first at the centre of the bridge, a hundred questions ready to fall off his tongue, only to be abandonned as Death passed you wordlessly into the maker's hands, exerting a degree of care that took the Old one by surprise.

Then, quite abruptly, he turned on his heel and stalked back the way he'd come, leaving behind no further an explanation than a single word hissed like poison between gritted teeth.

'Karkinos.'

And just like that, he was gone, back up the stairs and out through Tri-Stone's boundary, doubtless aiming to work off some of the rage he'd carried in with him by massacring a dozen or so constructs unfortunate enough to cross his warpath.

Meanwhile, Eideard was left with an armful of unconscious human and a mob of his fellow makers converging on him and demanding to know what had happened, a question he only wished he knew the answer to himself.

A bloody nose and shallow breaths were hardly good news, but at least the Horseman hadn't handed him a corpse. After futiley trying to calm the others down and assure them that, yes, the human is still alive, Eideard's elbow was caught by Muria and together, they made off for her garden where they laid you down on a trim of soft leather and then, the shaman set to work.

Half a day later and you have yet to come around.

--------- 

“How is she?”

Muria glances up from crushing another herb into a glass vial, her lips stretching to send a humourless smile towards the sound of Eideard's voice as he steps inside her garden for the fourth time in as many hours.

“No broken bones,” she informs him, pinching the vial's neck and swirling it in delicate circles to mix the potion that sloshes within, “Which, in itself, is a miracle, I do not mind telling you.”

Eideard nods sagely. “Aye, that she survived an encounter with Karkinos at all is cause for wonder.”

“Oh, naturally.” Lowering her voice, Muria inclines her head to a part of the gazebo behind her. “But I was actually referring to the fact that she hasn't been broken by our youngling yet.”

At that, one of Eideard's feathery eyebrows slides up his forehead, perplexed by her statement for a moment, at least until she steps aside.

Had the last few hours not drained him of all good humour, the elder would have let out a soft laugh at the sight before him. “Ah,” is what he utters instead.

Karn, having snuck into the gazebo only minutes after you were brought there, has settled himself right on the garden's rear flowerbed and it seems that at some point during his fretful vigil, he's managed to doze off, hunched over with his chin tucked up against his chest, And there, nestled in the young maker's arms, almost lost behind the swell of his biceps, lays a very tiny, very fortunate human. Fortunate to be alive, that is.

Sparing a second to throw Muria a bemused glance, Eideard steps up to the youngling and places a hand on his shoulder, giving it a gentle shake.

Despite a lifetime's worth of well accrued wisdom,  the Old One still isn't prepared for the reaction he receives. His hand is knocked violently away as Karn's eyes snap open and his elbow flies up out of nowhere, lips peeled back into a snarl. Momentarily stunned, the old maker braces himself against his staff whilst the youngling curls an arm around your body, his fingers splayed out and hooked over to resemble thick-set, meaty claws.

Although aware that he's probably supposed to be intimidated by this display, Eideard's main concern is for the injured human who is now tucked securely beneath a heaving chest, Karn's grip on you tight enough that his knuckles begin turning white.  

Eideard can't remember ever having seen him so defensive before.

“Steady Karn,” he says, an authoritative edge to his tone, “Jostle her too much, and you'll undo all of our hard work.”

At the sound of his Elder's voice, the fog lifts from Karn's mind and he blinks, eyes coming into focus on a familiar, white beard. In a flash, the youngling's fierce expression is wiped away and a dark flush blooms across his cheeks in its place. “E-Eideard!” he sputters, “Sorry! Didn't mean to nod off!”

“I imagine you didn't,” The Old one replies evenly, “Just as I'm sure you're not meaning to smother our young friend here.”

“Whu-” Karn's face scrunches up, baffled until he looks down and realises that one of his ungloved palms is cupped around your fragile, little back, crushing you securely against the coarse fabric of his tunic. All at once, the colour drains from him like water from a leaky barrel.

“Oh, Stone!” he curses and rips you away from his chest, wincing at the way your head flops around against his fingertips. After scrutinising your face for any inkling that you're in pain but finding no change, he lifts his head up to stare beseechingly at Eideard, his features contorted by anguish and desperation. “Did I...Did I hurt her?” he croaks.

Eideard's face softens and he lays a reassuring hand on the young maker's shoulder. “I'm sure she'll be alright,” he says lightly, “If she can survive a run in with Karkinos, she can survive being squashed by a heavy-handed pup.” His effort to cheer Karn up is met with a half-hearted smile that soon disappears as swiftly as it had come. Shifting his gaze back down to you, Karn sighs and raises a single digit to brush tenderly along your jawline, his brows gradually creeping closer and closer together. “Eideard?”

“Mm?”

There's a long pause. Then, “Why hasn't she woken up yet?”

Mulling over an answer that'll ease the youngling's nerve, the village elder opens his mouth to respond but finds himself beaten to the chase by Muria. “I imagine because she so desperately needs this long rest,” the shaman explains, sweeping around Eideard and coming to a stop once she senses Karn directly ahead of her. There, the maker sinks to her knees until she's level with his hands and offers him a patient smile. “Give her time, Karn. Her body is far more fragile than yours or mine. I've done all I can . Eideard's magic stitched the cracks in her bones and the poultices I've applied will keep the pain at bay. Speaking of which...” Trailing off, Muria produces a strip of cloth, suspiciously similar in colour and texture to the hem of her sleeve, and holds it over the opening of the potion she'd been mixing. Then, after tipping the contents upside down to soak the rag, she motions for Karn to lift your jumper.

They've been through this routine a lot over the last few hours, yet Karn's breath still hitches every time his thumb peels back your clothes and reveals the soft expanse of your midriff. Although the sight of your exposed skin admittedly sets his heart racing, it's the bruise staining your left side a livid purple from hip to sternum that causes it to stop beating in its tracks. Each time he sees the injury, he can't stop himself from imagining the pain you must have been in and he has to avert his gaze, ashamed that he could have been there to protect you, yet he wasn't. Because he was afraid. Afraid of messing up again as he had with Alya and Valus, almost costing them their lives.

Swallowing, Karn stares at a spot far off in the distance, his thumb still holding your jumper out of the way as Muria blots gently at your injured side.

After another minute of the quiet ministrations, she pulls away and rises to her feet. “There, that should suffice, I think. There's no way to tell for certain until she wakes up, but it might at least help.”

“Knowing you, I'm confident it will,” Eideard tells her.

The shaman smiles warmly but waves his compliment aside. “As I said, we shall simply have to wait and see. Now...” Pausing to fasten the vial back on her belt, she asks, “...Tell me, is Valus looking this way?”

“Is-?” Baffled, Eideard glances across the courtyard to Alya's forge and finds that – yes - the forge brother has indeed put his work on standby to stare towards the garden, though once he sees he's been spotted, he recoils, jerking his head away and lumbering as inconspicuously as possibly to a cooling barrel that stands in the corner of their forge.

The old maker chuckles at the display and returns his attention to Muria. “Yes, as a matter of fact, he is. How did you guess?”

“Valus - for all his stolidity - is a notorious worrier, try as he might to hide it.” A resigned sigh slips from her and she takes up her staff, turning to the steps with a flourish of blue robes. “Well, I suppose I'd better go and let them know there's been no change over here.” Waving a brief farewell, the shaman lifts the hem of her skirts and, swinging the staff out in front, makes her way down the stone staircase, leaving the eldest and youngest makers to occupy themselves in her garden.

Eideard watches her leave for a moment longer before he turns back to Karn, who's attention has once more been claimed wholly by the human in his arms.

Something in the Elder thrums at the sight, a stirring, a memory, pushing to the surface until it breaks through and spills over into his mind's eye. Slowly, one corner of his mouth stretches into a sad smile.

He remembers a time when he himself was young and earnest, so long ago now that the surrounding mountains were almost half their height and the stars he knew had come and gone. His eyes were once as full of devotion as Karn's are now, gazing into the face of a friend.

Traipsing up to the youngling's side, Eideard grunts and leans himself back against the low wall, throwing a sideways glance at his companion, who hasn't taken his eyes off you at all.

Seconds trickle by slowly and a gust of wind drifts through Tri Stone, rustling the plants and herbs that Muria had proudly raised from the dirt. Eideard's eyes slip closed and he languidly raises his head to meet the breeze, enjoying the feel of it carding through his heavy beard. For one who considers his words diplomatically before he voices them, he barely thinks too hard on the next ones that flow out of his mouth. “You're fond of her.” The Old one really did try to make it sound like a curious inquiry rather than a stated fact he already knows to be absolute. Still, it's too late now. The wind has already carried his words too far for him to retreive.

Oddly enough though, Karn remains uncharacteristically quiet for some time, so long, in fact, that Eideard is just about to open his mouth and repeat himself when the youngling at last murmurs something, softer than he's ever heard it. “She's nice to me.”

The old maker blinks.

Dragging his eyes off your face to peer up at his elder, Karn adds, “She laughs at my jokes. She called me amazing!  No one's ever said that to me before. And....she never tells me to stop talkin'. I – I know she ain't been here long enough to be sick of me yet -” he blurts hastily, and before Eideard can reassure him that nobody is 'sick' of him, he presses on, “- but it means a lot.”

“I understand, lad,” the Old One reassures him, noting that the young maker's voice has shot up the same way it always does when he's getting defensive, “I'm not accusing you of fondness. In fact, I concur. There's a lot of value to be placed in creatures of a kind inclination. It's a shame more species don't see this worth.” He pauses to study your eyelids and frowns when he sees there's no movement behind them. You must be too exhausted to even dream. “A human among makers....It is astonishing, really. To think, in a mere matter of moments, she's managaed to endear herself to most, if not all of us here. I shall certainly miss her company when she leaves.”

At his side, Karn stiffens. “If she leaves.”

“Karn...” Eideard swivels himself around to properly face the youngling and stands there with his lips slightly parted, caught in the vestiges of a response. He thinks for a moment, sucks in a breath and releases it slowly, body sagging as his mighty lungs deflate.  “...You know you can't-”

“There're so many things I can't wait to show her!” Karn suddenly exclaims as if he'd known the Old one was trying to tell him something he doesn't want to hear, “Soon as she's better, o' course.”

“Please, listen to-”

“I bet she'd like to see that old construct out in the fjord, now Death's cleared that area up.”

“Karn!-” Eideard tries again, only to be talked over once more.

“A-and she hasn't even seen my hut yet! You know, she really liked my journeyman dish. I've got to show her some of my newer-”

“KARN!”

Like a clap of thunder, the Old one's voice explodes across Tri Stone and sends several birds squawking into the air from a nearby tree. Karn flinches at the sound of it, jamming his mouth shut. Once the last echo fades on the wind, the village is plunged into a terse silence.

Eideard - patient and soft-spoken as a mountain brook - never raises his voice, hates doing so in fact, unless absolutely necessary.

Hearing such a loud noise emit from the Old one's mouth is enough of a sign to Karn that he'd pushed his luck just a stone too far. Slouching, he sinks in on himself and gazes down at your restful face, his jawline set stubbornly so it doesn't quiver when Eideard gently tells him, “You can't keep her, Lad.”

Crestfallen, the young maker continues to observe you, his pale eyes sweeping from the delicate hands resting on your stomach to the soft hair that caresses his fingertip. “But -” He swallows thickly and can't help but feel childish as he croaks out, “- but she's my friend!”

It's in that one, small comment that Eideard recalls just how much younger Karn is than all of the other makers.

Breathing out a sigh only the world-weariest can produce, the elder begins to reply but all of a sudden finds himself interrupted yet again. This time however, it isn't by Karn.

Both makers give a start when the human amongst them lets out a series of wheezing coughs, convulsing abruptly in Karn's hand before falling still. The young maker holds his breath, ears flicking up an inch or two and he waits, hoping, willing his friend to come around.

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

There's no doubt about it.

You're getting fairly sick of waking up with absolutely no idea where you are.

And that dull but irksome ache in your side is not instilling much confidence in your drowzy mind.

Something is nagging at you, something important and wrong, although you can't even summon the willpower to try and think what it might be. Whatever it is promptly fades into the background as you become aware of a noise buzzing from a spot above your head and echoing down through your whole body, pulling you further out of the realm of sleep.

God, your side really doesn't feel right.

Soon, the buzzing is joined by a low warble and as your brain kicks into gear, you finally recognise that what you're hearing are voices. Their presence helps to chase away the last vestiges of sleep and a strong scent of leather saturates the air in your nostrils, becoming stronger with every inhale until, with herculean effort, you finally pry your eyelids apart.

To begin with, you can't even make out what you're squinting up at. There's only a large, blurry mass of shapes that shift and bulge and block out the meagre light trying to shine out from behind them. It's only after you do a few more, droopy blinks that anything starts to make sense.

A flash of white teeth, the twitching muscles of a broad, blockish nose and eyes grey as a morning mist....  'That's a face', your brain helpfully supplies.

An enormous face, looming over you and filling your whole field of vision. Not the most concerting thing to wake up to unprepared.

Jumping out of your skin, your eyes widen and you let out a gasp, arms raising instinctively to protect your head.

“Ey! Yer alright, s'just me, Karn!”

Your lips part and you attempt to speak but all that comes out is a wheeze and you have to swallow several times before you feel prepared to try again. “K...Karn?”

The face above you pulls away a little to nod and when you see the features brighten, you can immediately tell who it is. A gushing sigh flows out of you and you allow an arm to slap heavily across your eyes. “Hey, big fella.”

Relief strikes the maker like a tidal wave, sweeping away the previous hours of anxious trepidation. Shoulders slumping, he takes a second to thank the StoneFather before breathing a sigh that ruffles your hair. “Hey,” he returns, a soft grin quirking at his mouth.

Sagging even further in the warm skin at your back, you begin to scrub groggily at your face, a low groan bubbling to the surface. “Ugh, where am I?”

“You are safe, in Tri Stone,” a new voice thrums from your side and you manage to roll your head over to catch a glimpse of a familiar white beard and wize, ancient eyes.

“Eideard,” you breathe languidly, trying to return the smile he's giving you.

There's an aura the Old Maker exudes simply by existing in close proximity that lessens the uncomfortable squirm of fear in your gut. You're glad he's here.

All too soon though, the smile crawls off his face and a crevass appears between his eyebrows instead, so deep it makes his other bags and wrinkles seem shallow in comparison. “Does anything hurt?” he asks.

On a reflex learned through years of playing down the severity of a situation, you shake your head, avert your gaze and answer with a subdued, “I'm fine.”

Somehow, Eideard's face grows even more stern. “I would prefer,” he rumbles, disapproval dripping from his tongue, “that you don't lie just to spare me from concern. I need to know if you're in pain.”

Suddenly very sheepish, you turn your head to look at Karn and find him already staring down at you imploringly. So, still groggy and confused, you heave a sigh and come clean. “M'not hurting that much. It's more like, I'm really, really stiff? And um, my side -” Here, you waggle your hand vaguely up and down your ribs. “- feels weird.”

Weird is admittedly an understatement. It feels as though it should hurt, but your brain isn't registering the pain properly. Just as you open your mouth to ask what's going on, Karn cuts you off. “Weird's better than hurt,” he says and glances up at the older maker, “In't it?”

“Do you remember what happened?” Eideard urges, deaf to the youngling's question.

Bits and pieces of fragmented memories dance teasingly around in your head and it takes a surprising amount of strength to reach out and snatch them up, piecing them all together as you would a jigsaw puzzle. You recall the grey stone of an ancient, crumbling temple, plants growing in through cracks in the ceiling and water – lots of it. It made sense as to why there were so many bugs zipping about -

'Wait. Bugs...?'

All of a sudden, with that one thought, your eyes fling open wide, the fog lifts and the rest of the memory hits hard enough to leave you reeling. Everything comes flooding back. From losing your temper with Death to the fight with Karkinos and -

“Oh my god, Death!?” you blurt out, shooting up in Karn's hand and almost knocking yourself out again on his chin.

“Whey! Steady now!” he frets, “must'nt try movin' yet!”

Unfortunately, you figure out just why that is a second later when your left side abruptly seizes up and you cry out as if someone had just stuck an electric prod to your ribs. Throwing an arm out, you're forced to grab onto Karn's thumb just to remain upright. Quick as a flash, the young maker shoots out his free hand to steady you, barely hovering close enough for the pads of his fingers to brush your skin as if afraid that touching you will only cause more distress. The pain however, is already beginning to dissipate, and if you weren't so focused on reaching for your jumper's hem, you'd notice how Eideard's lips move swiftly but quietly, murmuring words too old for comprehension. To your relief, the agony fades to a mere twinge by the time you swat Karn's fingers away and peel your clothing back, eyes doubling in size once you register the impressive, purpling bruise that covers the entirety of your side.

“Oh...Oh, God,” you whimper, pressing a few fingers to the tender spot, “Karkinos.. I – I...How?”

You knew you'd be hurt after the colossal bug launched you into a solid, stone wall. Hell, laying there on the ground, you'd been convinced you were about to die.

“Where's Death?” you cough instead, aware that your throat has begun to close up, “Is he okay?”

“The Horseman is fine,” Eideard promises, impressed but perturbed by your concern for someone other than yourself when you've obviously suffered the worst. He shakes his head. 'Humans.'

“How am I still alive?”

“Perhaps you are more resilient than you thought.” Leaning heavily against his staff, he adds, “We do not know what happened to you beyond what Death told us when he brought you here – that this was Karkinos's doing.”  

Around you, Karn's fingers start to curl inwards and his chest rumbles in the wake of a deep growl. Even you can't deny that the name itself sends a shiver down your spine. Swallowing, you plant a hand against your chest and rub absently at it, trying to soothe the heart that has suddenly begun to thunder beneath your fingertips. Eideard continues to speak, though his voice gradually diminishes until all you can hear is a pounding between your ears. Confused for a moment, you blearily peer up at the Old one, noting how far away he seems, though he's standing mere feet away, clasping his staff in a white-knuckle grip. He calls your name, that much you do hear, and you meet his eye, forcing yourself to concentrate on his words despite the growing tightness in your chest.

“Are you alright?” he seems to be asking, “You have a look as though you've seen a ghost.”

You open your mouth to reply, only to fall silent when you notice you've begun to tremble, barely noticeable from an outsiders standpoint, at least at first. A moment later however, and you suddenly buck in Karn's hand, the shivers spreading from your hands to your feet. But it isn't the shaking that disturbs you into silence, it's the resounding 'ba-dum,' 'ba-dum,' 'badum!,' in your chest that grows faster and faster, harder and then even harder still until you begin to wonder if your ribcage is strong enough to keep your heart in place.

“K-Karn,” you force out, sitting rigidly in his palm, “put me down.”

Instead, the young maker hesitates, a reluctance in his movements as he draws you a little closer to his chest and frowns, asking, “Why? What's wrong?”

His presence is suddenly all around you, encompassing you in his smell, a suffocating warmth pressing in from every angle and his voice rings deafeningly in your ear as he calls your name over and over again – it's too much. He's too much and far, far too close.

Inhaling a breath that doesn't quite feel deep enough, you squeeze your eyes closed and interrupt him snappishly, “Karn, just shut up and put me down!”

You barely notice his flinch while you're so preoccupied by your own, full-bodied shudders. It's as though you'd struck him with a fist rather than with your words.

'Shut up?' he mouths, his ears tilting dejectedly towards the ground. Still, obediently, he does fall silent, getting up and turning to place you on the wall he'd just left, allowing you to slide gently from his palm onto the cool rock before he withdraws his hands and kneels in front of you.

Oblivious to the maker, you continue to fight for a regular breath but the air you do manage to suck in barely feels like it'll suffice, so you take smaller, faster breaths and hope they'll compensate, disappointed yet unsuprised to find they don't. You've been through this before several years ago. It didn't work then and you're almost certain it won't work now.  

“What's happenin' to her?!” Karn twists his head towards Eideard, his face white as a sheet. The older maker, who'd been about to call Muria back over, suddenly hesitates and takes a second to observe you a little more closely, his eyes sharp and keen in spite of their age. You're still shaking fit-to-bust, your little chest heaving in and out as though you've just run a mile and your eyes are blown open wide, fixated on hands that curl into fists only to spring open again spasmodically. 'Okay,' you tell yourself, 'okay, okay, it's okay,' and then, because you can't form any other coherent thought, 'okay.'

After another minute of watching, the Old one grunts conclusively. “I believe,” he begins, “that she's only just realised how close she came to death, and now that truth is catching up to her.” Then, noting Karn's slumped shoulders and sullen expression, he adds, “I doubt she's in her right mind at the moment. Fear can cloud our judgement in many ways, make us say things we perhaps don't mean.” Eideard knows better than most that while the youngling likes to pretend his skin is as thick as stone, he secretly takes a lot more to heart than he lets on. The old maker can only hope he understands, and judging by the weak smile that flashes across his lips, Karn does.

“I also believe,” Eideard raises his voice and interrupts the youngling, who'd since turned back to you and had been in the process of reaching out, doubtlessly seeking to comfort, “that giving her some space might be better than not.”

The young maker chews his lip, despising how helpless he feels that yours isn't a problem he can simply blast into smithereens with his hammer, and in spite of the Old One's warning, he brushes a finger against your arm. “But she's-” However, the moment he makes contact, he's cut off by a strangled shout that leaps out of you as you wrench yourself away from his hand, gasping wetly, “Stop it! Get off!”

In an instant, the maker recoils, hands curling up against his chest and he casts his eyes to the floor, thoroughly admonished.

“Stop,” you repeat and hook your arms tightly around yourself, eyes unfocused as they stare past Karn, past the stone walls around you and into the face of a horror apparently only you can see. “You're not gonna die, stop it.”

And Eideard, ever the voice of sense and clarity, clasps both hands around his staff and thunks it's pommel on the ground. “No, you are not,” he agrees, “Muria and I made certain of that. There is nothing in Tri Stone that can hurt you now, I give you my word.”

Unfortunately, for all his good intentions, the Old One's word isn't worth a lot whilst you feel as if the ground could open up and swallow you whole at any moment, just as the jaws of Karkinos had done hours earlier. Even thinking about her cragged jaws sends another pang of fear sweeping through you and, without warning, you propel yourself onto your feet, struck by the urge to run away but finding your legs too unsteady to attempt such a deed. So, trapped in the darkest hollows of your own mind, you can only stand there, trembling on the wall, sweaty fingers pulling at the sleeves of your jumper until they're stretched while at the same time alternating between wanting to sit down and discovering that moving an inch is the most terrifying prospect in the universe right now.

The two makers meanwhile, can do little else but wait - one drawing from his boundless well of patience to refrain from pacing back and forth, and the other a fidgeting, restless mess of nerves.

Seconds tick into minutes and those minutes trickle by until almost fifteen have passed and it's only when the sun has reached its peak in the midday sky that the world ceases to fall apart around you and the pit of dread that had opened up in your stomach shrinks until it disappears altogether and you're left wondering why on Earth it had ever appeared in the first place.

Gradually, the glaze in your eyes also diminishes enough for Eideard to pinpoint the moment you regain your usual cognizence. It isn't difficult, considering the grimace you adopt before collapsing onto your backside in the dirt, utterly spent.

“Y/n?” he calls, “How are you feeling?”

For a few moments, you don't respond save for drawing your knees up and burying your head behind them. Karn's mouth falls open and closed several times whilst he tries to think of something that can fill the silence, eventually clearing his throat and settling on reiterating the Old one's query.  However, he's cut short when a muffled groan is pushed through the fabric of your skirt and catches their ears. “You weren't s'posed to see that.”

All around you, the world starts cutting through the exhausted haze clouding your brain and funnily enough, now you wish the ground really would open up to swallow you whole. It's a mortifying thing, to be caught in the throes of panic, worse still when there are witnesses present to see you at one of your lowest moments.

Eideard has too much self restraint to let out his pent up sigh of relief at hearing you speak, whereas Karn all but melts into an oversized puddle on the floor.

“I think, given the circumstances, a reaction like that is more than deserved,” Eideard tells you, perhaps recognising the shame that rolls off your body in palpable waves. The Old One's headpiece clanks softly as he shifts his weight, a frown hanging heavy above his eyes when the attempt at reassurance isn't enough to draw you out from behind your knees, much to his dismay. “Would you...prefer to be alone?” He's highly reluctant, of course, a primitive instinct telling him that he ought to stay, but if solitude is what you require, he would provide, and he even leans down to place a steady hand on Karn's shoulder, prepared to drag the youngling away by force if need be. So it comes as a relief that you hesitate briefly, then shake your head and mumble, “No,” into your skirt.

Eideard's face breaks out into a relaxed smile.

Letting go of Karn, he pulls away and nods, leaning back against the wall once more, content – for the time being - to watch the plants around him unfurl as their roots feel about for the first taste of water they've had in years.

In the meantime, Karn's attention is fixed on the flecks of dirt trapped beneath his fingernails and he busies himself with trying to get at it, every now and then stealing glances up at you. After another few minutes of peaceful quiet during which you get your breathing back under control, he looks up once again and promptly stiffens, his eyes locking with your own.

The maker stares, mesmerised by the way your irises stand out brightly against a red-tinged scelera. Then, realising he's staring openly, he drops his gaze down to his knees.

The sound of a raw throat being cleared twitches his ears. “Karn?”

Your voice is so gentle, evidently subdued by exhaustion. It's a stark contrast to the clipped staccato you'd hit him with earlier. Falteringly, the young maker lifts his head, bringing the two of you eye-level with each other.

Scratching sheepishly at the back of your neck, you wet your lips to speak, however, before you can utter a sound, he unexpectedly blurts, “M'really sorry! I didnae mean to be a nuisance! I-”

Eideard sighs without taking his eyes off an especially blue flower. “Let the girl speak, Lad,”

With a click, the youngling's jaw snaps shut and he ducks his head with a grimace, looking so put out that you somehow find the energy to offer a sympathetic smile, which remains for a moment before fatigue shoves it off your face and you exhale, feeling a hell of a lot older than you really are. “I told you to shut up,” you begin, biting a loose piece of skin on your lip.

Letting out a nervous huff of laughter, Karn twiddles his thumbs in his lap, deliberately avoiding your eye. “Heh, yeah....”

He's too proud. Too bolshie and self-conscious to ever admit how much it hurt to hear those words, and especially to hear them from you, although he knows he should be neither surprised nor upset. Silently cursing himself for becoming so attached that he could be affected like this, he almost misses your next words.

“I'm really sorry, Karn.”

At last, the maker's head lifts.

“I didn't mean that, I didn't mean it at all,” you continue, each word packed with conviction, “Listen, you didn't know what was going on, so it is not your fault. It's just ...Sometimes, humans do this thing where we, like...Well. We just panic – totally out of the blue – and when it happens, we stop thinking, uh-” You snap your fingers, “-rationally! That's the word. It's hard to describe, but, shit just gets so overwhelming and all I wanna do is be somewhere quiet and safe where nothing and no one can touch me. You know?”

Karn – who'd been listening with rapt attention lest he forget any detail you tell him – nods vigorously, his eyes busy mapping the lines and movements of your face. He doesn't want to forget that either.

“It isn't personal, I promise,” you say, oblivious to the scrutiny you're under, “I once told my best friend in the whole world to eff off. So, yeah.”

Despite the pang of jealousy that zooms through his chest at the mention of your 'best friend,' Karn allows his shoulders to slump, relief pouring over him like a soothing balm.

You don't hate him.

The maker's face brigthens around a toothy grin which you return, albeit with a less exuberance. There's still a hesitancy to him though, an angle to his ears that doesn't sit right with you in spite of his jovial smile.

After pondering this for a moment or two, you slowly push yourself onto your knees and shuffle forward, arms opening up invitingly.

Karn loses his smile almost immediately, his lips pulling together instead to form a small, 'o,' and he blinks, caught off guard as you twitch your hands to beckon him closer.

Gulping, the maker tentatively raises his palms and clasps them over the lip of the wall you're knelt on, bracing himself to lean towards you until his stubbled chin brushes against granite and he can feel your breath wash over his nose. The youngling doesn't quite know what to expect when you promptly reach out and place the very tips of your fingers on his flushed cheeks, both of which swiftly turn crimson at the contact. Terrified but filled with an exhilaration he's never known before, Karn remains utterly still, helpless and vulnerable under your touch despite his immensity.

There's a minute twinge in your side as you raise your arms that reminds you of your injuries, but it's easily brushed aside. Frankly, you've been in more pain than this before. Hell, a skimmed knee on the playground gave you more grief. Whatever Eideard and Muria had done is working wonders. Besides, the prospect of a comforting touch is too tempting to pass up. Suddenly, your eyes slide shut and you tip forwards, a groan catching in your throat as you realise how much you've missed basic, human contact. You've taken for granted how often you used to receive physical touches from your fellow humans. Even animals. When was the last time you stroked a dog? Or gave one of your friends a hug?

You're vaguely aware that Karn is worrying aloud, though his words fall on deaf ears.

You miss breathing in the smell of your mother's cardigan when you hugged her and the traces of perfume that lingered on her skin after she returned from a dinner party. Floral. You always hated that perfume. Now, you'd give anything to be able to smell it just one, more time.

“I'm sorry,” you croak whilst a teardrop slides down to the tip of your nose. 'What the hell am I doing? First a panic attack and now an emotional breakdown?'

'You almost died,' a softer voice whispers at the edge of your mind and for once, you try listening to the latter.

Something presses briefly to your spine before disappearing again a split second later. Then, you feel rather than hear Karn murmur, “Is it happenin' again?”

Laughing wetly, you shake your head. “No, no. This is just...another weird thing humans do.”

“I don't think it's weird.”

You don't respond.

“Y/n?”

“Mmm?”

Through heavy-lidded eyes, you watch him catch his bottom lip between his teeth, worrying at it for a little while before he asks, “Can I-...?” The pressure on your back returns, barely there. A question, a gentle request.

It's enough to break the spell of hesitancy that's been lingering in the air and before you can even think to be embarrassed, you've placed the flats of your palms upon the maker's cheeks and pulled yourself closer, severing any distance between you. Karn, for his part, actually shivers as you drape your entire weight against him, your head nestling comfortably into the side of his nose and setting his face ablaze at the sudden act of intimacy. However, he only allows a mere second of dithering to pass, and then he wastes no more time in sliding his fingers around your delicate torso, ever mindful of the enormous bruise tainting your side. A hefty thumb pushes into your stomach and at the same time, your back is gathered up by Karn's fingers, pinning you inside a loose and tentative grasp and drawing you as near as possible so that you're pressed flush to the youngling's skin.

It isn't the most conventional hug. In fact, it's one of the strangest embraces you've ever been a part of. But it is just that. An embrace: Something you've been unconsciously seeking after you left Earth. Karn's attempt doesn't fix the lonely hole inside your chest, not by a longshot. But by God, it helps just having a hand with the power to topple mountains at your back and the comforting warmth of a friend against your cheek. Right now, it's as close as you're going to come to having the arms of a fellow human wrapped around you whilst they in turn are nearly suffocated by your crushing grip.

For the first time in days, a very small shard of glass untwists itself from your heart and its absence prompts you to expel all the air from your lungs in a sigh as enduring and steady as the stone underfoot.

Karn in the meantime, can barely breathe for all the oxygen in the realm. He'd heard of humans' legendary capacity for expressing and receiving affection – so unusual that other species had marked it as one of their predominant traits, not far behind 'weak' and 'cunning.' The makers are a hardy race, and like many other species, solely express intimacy within their own, close-knit circles. So, in Karn's opinion, the fact that you're kneeling against him with your arms enveloping his face and your scent percolating through every receptive pore speaks volumes to the young maker. In his eyes, this is you trusting him entirely - the highest declaration of friendship you can give.

The youngling hums pleasantly and a dopey smile stretches from cheek to cheek, his eyes slipping shut in clear contentment.

Across the way, standing silent and still as a statue, Eideard's discreet gaze has turned to survey the exchange, melancholy haunting the lines between his eyebrows. The Universe rarely deals a fair hand to those who've already known struggle, and although you've faced more than your fair share of hardships and tragedies, the Old one is willing to bet with utmost certainty that there will be further grief in the coming days.

'But not now,' he reminds himself, appraising the scene before him, 'Not at this moment.'

At this moment, here in Tri-Stone, tucked against the mountainside beneath warm suns and a pale, blue sky, there exists a rare peace that emanates directly from the two beings knelt together in a Shaman's garden. In the distance, the clashing of steel can be heard as Thane lays his frustration out on some, unfortunate training dummy, the warrior's grunts and restrained battle-cries mingling with the soft, gurgled harmony of lava and water tumbling from their respective pipes in the mountain.

For the first time in a great many years, Eideard dares to permit a flicker of hope to ignite in his weary chest.

Things are finally, finally changing. And he dare say they're changing for the better.

Just then, a disappointed groan snags his attention and he swivels his head over to Karn, noting that the youngling's features have screwed up into a childish pout for the fact that you've pulled away at last, severing the connection between you and drawing your hands from his cheeks. Blowing out a whoosh of air, you let your arms drop into your lap before inhaling again, long and deep through your nose until your lungs are full to the brim. “Phew, thanks for that,” you say, tilting your head at the maker in front of you, “Are we good?”

Karn doesn't hesitate in nodding enthusiastically. “Aye! We're good.”

“Good, good.”

“Good, good, good.”

A grin quirks at the edge of your mouth and you snort softly, falling quiet soon after, the amusment fading from your eyes. There's a peculiar expression tugging at the space between your brows that deepens as you start glancing around, first over your own shoulder and then over Karn's. “So, where is Death?”

With a grunt, Eideard pushes his heavy bulk up and off the wall, hands wrapped around his staff and he tramps steadily into the centre of Muria's gazebo. “The horseman took off not long after he brought you here,” he explains, sweeping his gaze along the length of the village.

“Oh...” Pulling your legs from underneath you and swinging them out over the wall's edge  - in turn forcing Karn to back up unless he wants his jaw kicked – you consider your hands for a while, thumbs twiddling over one another until, falteringly, you ask, “Did he, um...Did he seem....off, to you?”

Eideard blinks. “He was a little out of sorts,” he replies, “Said hardly a word bar the name of your assailant.”

Letting out a breath that must have somehow become lodged in your chest, you relax a fraction. If Death had turned up in Tri-Stone parading as that....that Reaper, then it'd be among the first things Eideard would mention, surely. If truth be told, deep down, you'd been as terrified of Death in that moment as you were of Karkinos. In your mind's eye, you can still clearly see the dark, empty hood, hear the rattling breaths that emanated from somewhere within that blackness, and the cold!...

Goosebumps prickle along your arms after you recall how that oppressive chill had sunk through you and clung to your bones. You'd heard of the icy embrace of death but you never thought for a second you'd actually experience it and live to tell the tale. Not many humans can claim that accomplishment.

Realising that you've unconsciously wrapped yourself up in your arms, you give a start and force them down to your sides, all the while watched by a pair of curious makers, Eideard in particular, who studies you carefully from the corner of his eye. He takes your lack of verbal response to mean – rightly so – that you're currently trapped in your own thoughts. So, hoping that a gentle nudge will prompt you into speaking your mind, he clears his throat, waiting for you to look up at him before he says, “You must have worried the Horseman greatly.”

You don't mean to let a snort slip out, but it does so anyway. “I don't know about worried,” you mutter, leaning forwards to measure the distance between your feet and the ground below, “he's more likely to be pissed off with me for not listening to him again, pardon my french.”

The old maker shoots you a pointed look and you assume it's because he doesn't approve of your vocabulary until he asks, “You don't think anger and worry can exist side by side?”

You'd been in the process of sliding yourself over the lip of the wall but his words suddenly give you pause.

He's not wrong.

As a child, if you were ever caught doing something your parents considered dangerous, your father would always sit you down and reprimand you with a stern lecture, a deep frown on his face yet concern interwoven into his voice. At the time, you assumed he was furious. Now that you're older and somewhat wiser, you know better.

But just the prospect of Death worrying, about you no less, conjures such a bizarre image, you struggle to visualise it properly.

“I guess they could,” you shrug noncommitally and push yourself off the wall, dropping a few feet to the ground justs seconds before Karn's hand whips out and he balks, a warning just shy of his tongue. It's too late for that anyway.

You hit the ground and immediately buckle, a sharp gasp ripped from your lungs as the impact sends a spasm harpooning straight up your side. “Mother f-!” Dropping to a knee, you bite down hard on your tongue and hold in the scream you'd almost let slip.

Large hands appear on either side of you, though they're swiftly waved away. “I'm alright, I'm fine,” you grimace and draw in a steadying breath, remaining on one knee until the pain dulls to something manageable. It only takes a moment, and when it's ignorable, you clumsily stagger back to your feet and glance over a shoulder at the wall. “Well, that was stupid, huh?”

“Pushing yourself may prove detrimental,” Eideard says, tactfully neglecting to agree or disagree.

“No need to be so polite, Old One,” a gruff and familiar voice calls out from the entrance of the gazebo, causing all three of you to swivel your heads around and stare at the figure emerging up the steps. “If she's being stupid, tell her so. Creator knows she'll never learn otherwise.”

For a sliver of a moment, every other thought flees your head, replaced entirely by mind-boggling relief.

“Death!” you shout and stumble around Karn towards the Horseman, any fear you might have harboured cast aside for the time being in the wake of suddenly seeing your friend again.

'Friend?'

The word trips you up and brings you screeching back into yourself and you shake your head, trailing to a halt just a few feet from the Horseman, your smile withering and dying with one glance at your 'friend's' face. From this angle, you can spot how the underside of Death's jaw quivers as its muscles work over one another, like he's grinding his teeth to Oblivion under there. Trailing your gaze tentatively upwards, you find he's fixing you with a hard glare, the fires of his irises burning hotter than Alya's forge. If anything, he looks as if he's as far from 'friendly' as it gets.

He gives you a slow once-over, his glare lingering on your bad side and the leg you're unconsciously favouring.

Behind you, Karn gets to his feet and his shadow falls across you.

“You're alive then,” the Horseman finally says, an edge to his voice suggestive of a simmering pot that's about to boil over.

The tightness in your chest returns but you swiftly gulp it down. You may be standing in front of Death made flesh, but you're ninety nine percent certain he won't hurt you.

Slowly, his hands curl into tight fists.  

...Ninety seven percent.

“Yeah, I'm alive,” you smile weakly and throw a thumb over your shoulder, “Thanks to Eideard and Muria, and you, of course.”

“Of course.” He draws in a breath, like he wants to say something else but then peers up at the makers standing behind you and stops, jaw clicking shut audibly.

The village Elder must have sensed the growing tension, for the next thing you know, he's sweeping forwards and places his boot deliberately close to your side. “Horseman,” he greets, bowing his head, “You never gave me the chance to thank you, for restoring the Tears to our land.”

The only acknowledgement he receives comes in the form of a gruff, “Mmm,” and Death nods sharply, at last tearing his eyes off your jumper and fixing Eideard with a scrupulous stare. “Not to be abrupt, Old One, but I'd rather skip the pleasantries for today. Tell me I'm getting closer to the Tree of Life?”

In response, the maker lifts a hand and beckons for everyone to follow him as he trundles past Death and out of the gazebo.

Stepping aside, the Horseman roughly gestures for you to go ahead of him. There's something about having a grumpy Nephilim at your back that feels vaguely threatening, but you traipse by nonetheless, keeping your head down as his eyes follow you unblinkingly across the garden. Unbeknownst to you however, once he falls behind you, Death instantly switches his attention to your weaker leg and takes note of each faltering step you take, his teeth bared of their own accord.

Once the entirety of your little group emerges from the garden, Eideard inhales and releases a keen, melodious whistle that splits the air and rings out across the village, prompting Alya, Valus and Muria look up. Quick as a flash, the twins drop what they're doing and bid farewell to their fellow maker, who gracefully dips her head and ushers them out of their forge.

Eideard meets them in the centre, just in front of the great door that leads into their old makers' forge, already alive and roaring inside due to the fire and water now flowing through Tri-Stone, a welcome sound, like the voice of the Stonefather himself.

You fall into step beside the Old One with Death stalking around him to stand nearest the door while Karn brings up the rear.

“It is time,” Eideard says, sweeping an arm to the entrance and casting his eyes over Alya and Valus, “I trust the two of you know what must be done?”

The Forge brother merely grunts, whereas his sister bounces on her toes, grinning like a true youngling and apparently the most excited of the bunch. “I cannae believe we're about to use a proper forge again!” she beams. At her side, Valus rumbles in agreement, his helmet swivelling around idly between each person until he stops, does a double take and elbows his sister in her ribs.

“Oi! What?” she gripes, following his line of sight down to Eideard's boots. Suddenly, Alya lets out a delighted gasp. “Y/n!”

You'd been so preoccupied with scowling at the ground and analysing Death's behaviour that her exclaimation jerks you back to reality and you have all of a second to clumsily blurt, “Huh? Wha-” before you're swept up into the air, your stomach lurching as it's left behind.

Clutched between two rough and weathered hands, the excitible maker swings you in a circle and holds you out in front of her, eyes sparkling like the sun on water.

“You're okay!”

“I will be once my head stops spinning!” you quip, grinning through the dizzyiness and the uncomfortable twinge beneath her fingertips.

Just then, to the shock of all involved, Death's hand flies out towards you and he barks, “Be careful!”

Slowly, every head turns to regard him as if he's sprouted an extra head.

Realising what he'd let slip, the Horseman darts his gaze to the side and leans back onto one leg, arms folding curtly across his chest. “You keep spinning her around like that and she'll empty her stomach all over your apron.”

“I will not!” Your lower lip sticks out indignantly, though your ribs are quietly grateful when Alya smirks, flashes you a wink and plops you back onto the ground.

“Keep your hair on, Horseman, I weren't gonna drop her!”

From the corner of your eye, you watch Death bristle. “That is not what-”

“If I might interrupt?” Eideard thunks his staff on the ground assertively and even the pride-wounded Nephilim holds his tongue, instead settling to glare at Alya from afar.

The Elder shoots her a withering look that somehow lacks any kind of real bite before he turns and starts for the doorway, calling over his shoulder, “Perhaps it would be best not to waste any more time? I for one, am rather anxious – as I'm sure we all are – to see the Forge breathe life once more.”

“Hmph, about time.” Death's shoulders gradually fall to their usual height as his anger wanes.

The Old one shuffles up to the door with Valus striding ahead and holding it open for the rest of the group. However, as soon as Eideard has his back turned, Alya swivels her head down to Death again and, to your amusement, sticks her tongue out at him, then saunters into the forge, flicking her hair as she goes and earning herself an offended sputter from the wounded party.

You share a glance with Karn which proves to be fatal, for the next moment, you're both trying to muffle snickers behind your hands. At least until an extremely heated Horseman whips his head around to glare daggers at you, rendering the two of you silent with nothing more than a look that promises endless suffering if you don't zip your lips.

He holds the two of you captive under his stare for a moment longer and then with unnerving slowness, he spins about and heads after the others, and after tossing one more tight-lipped smirk at Karn, you follow suit and pass through the open door. You thank Valus for holding it and the burly maker tips his helm at you curiously before he releases the heavy stone, allowing it to swing back into place with a raucous creak.

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

There's no denying, the makers' forge is sweltering.

Lava bubbles and broils through a canal that spans the entire length of the chamber and basks everything in its warm, red glow. At the very centre, encirled by a smooth, stone wall and toiling away at their enormous anvil like a well-oiled machine, Alya and Valus have set to work forging...something. Despite their size, the siblings move around each other with a fluidity and practiced ease that's as mesmerising as it is impressive.

From your perch on the wall, you watch them forge, entranced, with your jaw hanging almost to the floor as if you were seeing the world's most heavy-footed ballet.

Valus tosses his sister a hunk of grey metal and she catches it gracefully, transferring it into the blazing fire. Faster than you anticipate, the metal burns red hot and when Alya leans close to retrieve it with a pair of tongs, her glistening face is cast in an ethereal, golden glow. Although seemingly transfixed on her task, she flicks her eyes over in your direction and catches you staring.

Smirking, the maker saunters back to the anvil and deposits the still shimmering slab down on top of it. Then, sparing another fleeting glance to ensure you're still watching, she grabs a hammer from her brother and raises it above her head. Immediately, your eyes wander to the quivering muscles on her arms that bunch and twitch under the strain as she slams the hammer down onto the piece of metal, filling the forge with a resonant clang that leaves your ears ringing. It isn't just your ears that suffer though. At the point of impact, you're abruptly forced to throw a hand over your eyes when a searing beam of blue light bursts from the metal and shoots straight up to the ceiling, fading just as rapidly as it had come. The next time she strikes, the light becomes a little more bearable until eventually, you can return your gaze to Alya's task. Over and over she shapes the slab while Valus drags a barrel over to the nearby trough of water and dips it inside, filling it almost to the brim.

“What's the matter?” The forge sister's question breaks your awestruck study of her impressive biceps, “Never seen a maker at work before?”

Wiping a bead of sweat from the tip of your nose, you return her sly grin and reply, “Oddly enough, I can't say I've ever had the pleasure. It's like watching a dance!”

A low chuckle rumbles out of Valus's helm and Alya huffs, inspecting the metal closely, then lifts the hammer once again. “A dance? Don't know if I should take that as a compliment or not. Makers do not dance.”

You wait until the following smash of steel on steel fades before elaborating. “Well, I meant it as a compliment. I just mean you two make it look so effortless, but beautiful too, if you get me.”

The young maker's eyelashes flutter, letting you know you've caught her off guard. “Beautiful?” she echoes softly, letting go of the hammer with one hand to tuck a thick plait of auburn hair over her shoulder. The sharp smirk has vanished too, and in its place, something warmer takes root. All too soon though, with a rapid shake of her head, that familiar cockiness returns. “Flatterer,” she accuses kindly.

Smiling at your crosstalk, she picks up the now moulded hunk of metal and hands it to her brother, the thick, leathery gloves helping to protect her palms from the heat. Obediently, Valus takes it, and even when you strain to get a better look, his meaty paw obscures the object from view.

You can't even begin to guess what they're making.

Unable to help yourself, you raise your voice to reach Eideard, who stands silently close by and observes the forging as a teacher would oversee his students. “So, what is it they're making?” Your question is almost drowned out as Valus chooses that particular moment to dunk the metal into a vat of water where it cools with a vehement hiss.

The Old One raises a finger at you, the universal command to 'wait,' whilst he steps up to Valus and reaches out a hand with the palm turned up, ready to receive the finished product.

“At last....at long last.”

Your ears twitch, picking up the wistful sigh that flows from his lips when he holds it and uses the fingertips of one hand to stroke reverently over the object from end to end before eventually swinging about and holding it up for you to see. “This, Little one” he begins, “is a Makers' key.”

Without noticing, you've somehow slipped off the low wall, treading cautiously across the forge towards Eideard, your eyes never once leaving his hands. It is indeed, upon closer inspection, a key. And an enormous one at that, about as long as you are tall. Staring up at it from the maker's feet, you give an appraising whistle. “I've got to see the door that unlocks!”

At your back, Karn snickers but he's quickly shushed by Alya.

“You will find no door to fit this particular key,” Eideard patiently explains in spite of the interruption, “Rather, it is used to unlock stone.”

“Stone?” you repeat, one side of your nose scrunching up.

An icy chill prickles at the skin of your arms when Death looms out from whatever shadow he'd been lurking in and moves to stand beside you. Drawing your brows together, you try to ignore the fact that his proximity raises the hairs on your skin and his long shadow eerily resembles the hooded figure you now know lurks beneath the surface of his skin.

“Aye,” the old maker replies, “Namely, the Guardian. Meant to be our greatest weapon, and capable of clearing the forest around the Tree.”

Using his staff, he gestures towards an enormous door on the far side of the forge, one you have yet to venture beyond and, admittedly, hadn't even realised exists until now. “Beyond those doors lays the Foundry,” he explains once he notices the newfound curiosity on your face, “It is where we began his construction, but alas, an earthquake drove us out and, now, I fear something else roams within.”

Eideard stills a moment and a darkness appears in the space under his eyebrows, his whole body seeming to sag, its bones simply too old and too weary to keep the maker standing up straight. “The Guardian,” he thrums, eyes lost in a memory, as though he's forgotten anyone else is in the room, “was never finished.”

Disarmed by his sudden look of fraility you'd never have expected from the Elder, you take a step towards him, caught under some, misguided impression that you would actually be able to hold him upright. Eideard spots the movement, regardless of how small it is, and some of the weight does lift from his shoulders as he endeavours to stand a little straighter, a tender expression softening his wizened features.

Raising his voice, Death chooses that moment to address one of his concerns. “If the Guardian is your masterwork, then how am I to complete him?”

Briefly, you wonder if he'd deliberately avoided using the term, 'we,' but soon enough, Eideard's reply is distracting you from the nagging thought.

“In the forest lies another construct,” he explains, “One of the few remaining who have not fallen to Corruption. He is not as vast as the Guardian, but his heart is strong. Seek him out, and he will guide you to the Foundry. There, you may activate the Guardian, using the Makers' Key.”

“So this key-” Death gestures loosely to it, still clutched in the maker's steady grasp. “- It... awakens the constructs?”

The Old One bows his head. “Yes. Constructs do not have a soul, like you or I... not until that soul is given. This key unlocks the stone, and prepares it for the ebb and flow of a maker's life force.”

At your side, the Horseman shifts, a scoff of laughter shaking his shoulders. “And what makes you think I have a soul, Old One.”

And without missing a beat, Eideard raises a brow and replies, “Isn't that what troubles you?”

The click of Death's jaw snapping shut is loud enough to be heard above the forge's ambiance and a pensive silence follows, just begging to be broken. You risk a glance at the Horseman, only to find he's turned his head away from you and the maker. Frowning, you contemplate how it hasn't ever occurred to you that Death doesn't have a soul. It simply isn't something you've called into question, easier to assume that – yes, he's alive, and therefore, he must have one. Now though, with the query lingering in the air like an unpleasant smell, you can't help but wonder as to the answer. After all, can Death technically be considered 'alive?' You only have to puzzle over it for a moment before swiftly deciding that you know too little of souls and the universe to try and philosophise it, so instead, you ask another question that's been burning at the back of your mind. “Wait, how exactly are we supposed to find this construct?”

You can't be sure, but you think you can hear the Horseman breathe a sigh of relief that the attention has been directed away from the matter of his 'soul.'

Eideard however, looks a little perturbed. Brows furrowing, he sucks in a breath and gives you a quick up and down glance. You don't miss the way his eyes briefly flash towards Death before coming back to land on you once more. “There is a temple,” he begins slowly, “out in Baneswood, to the east. If he is anywhere, that is where you will find him.”

“Then that's where I'm going,” Death suddenly pipes up and jerks his chin towards the maker key in Eideard's hand. After drumming his fingernails over its metal surface for several beats, the old maker finally relents. “Here, Horseman. Take it-” He holds his precious cargo out for Death, muttering as an afterthought, “-Before I come to my senses.”

Letting a rare and genuine chuckle grace the air, Death lifts the Maker Key out of Eideard's hand and slips it safely inside a trouser pocket. “You seem more likely to lose them, Old One.” With a good natured click of his tongue, the maker shooes him away and the Horseman turn and readies himself to leave, only to freeze in his tracks when he comes face to face with you.

For the better part of a minute, Death's focus stays on you and the rest of Tri Stone fades away as his eyes rove down to your side once more, lingering a fraction too long. There's a tightness in his chest that wasn't there before.

Then, just as easily as he'd become trapped by your trusting gaze, he feels his mind kick back into gear. Blinking, Death snatches his head to the side and forces his legs to carry him through the forge, past the central dais and on towards the main entrance, zipping by Alya, Valus and Karn without a word.

In his stead, you crane your neck back to send the oldest maker a reassuring grin. “Don't worry, we'll be back in no time.”

If the Old One had meant to object, he's too late in calling out, too late in stretching his withered hand after you, as if to hold you back. You've already spun away from him and hobbled after Death, sparing Alya and Valus a wave goodbye and missing the troubled fang she stuffs into her lip, the urgent huff her brother emits.

You can, however, feel their eyes on the back of your head as you leave.

Before too long - and completely as expected - another heavy set of footfalls begins to shake the ground under your boots.

You’re able to tell without even looking that Karn is following as well.

The doors ahead of you have already thudded shut by the time you reach them, so you habitually press a shoulder against one and try to shove it open. But all of a sudden, a white heat sears across the bruise on your ribs with such ferocity, it brings you to your knees, stealing a ragged gasp from you as well.

Another gasp, this time from a different source, alerts you to Karn's distress and seconds later, his hand is looming in front of your nose, palm tilted towards the ceiling. Lifting your head, you shoot the maker a grateful smile and rest your own hand over his proffered thumb.

“Maybe don't try openin' any maker-made doors while you've got that thumpin' great bruise on yer side, eh?” he teases, pulling you to your feet again, “Might be askin' a wee bit too much of yourself.”

“Duly noted.”

Smirking, the youngling stretches an arm over your head and places his palm flat on the door where, after giving it a single push, throws it open, letting a stray beam of sunlight warm your face.

Inhaling a breath of fresh, mountain air, you peer outside and immediately spot the elusive Horseman, sweeping up the steps onto Tri Stone's central courtyard with his indigo cowl pulled high around his neck, and – to your pleasant surprise – a familiar crow perched upon his shoulder. You'd been wondering where he'd gotten to.

“Hey,” you call out, “wait up!” A few tentative steps reassure you that the previous burst of pain had only been fleeting. So, emboldened, you break into a slow jog, eventually pulling up alongside Death and peering at him from the corner of your eye, though his own remain fixed ahead, to the gate leading out of Tri Stone.

Letting out a brazen caw, Dust hops around to face you and flaps down onto your shoulder, landing heavily enough to almost tip you off balance. “Dust!” you chirrup, reaching up and brushing the back of a finger down his chest, “Where've you been? I missed you!”

In response, the enormous crow flares the feathers around his neck and nips playfully at the tip of your ear, deep warbles emanating from his throat. “Aw, were you worried about me?”

In a fashion that reminds you entirely of the Horseman, Dust twists his beak away stubbornly and the claws on your shoulder give a cautioning squeeze, but his warbling doesn't cease as he settles himself down close to your neck.

You grin fondly at the bird for a moment before Death recaptures your attention, prompting you to lean forwards and peer at him around the crow. The air between you feels thicker somehow, the distance twice as long as it had been in the Drenchfort. Something has changed, and for once, you wish he would be a little more direct, rather than subject you to this ominous silent treatment.

'Silent...' You hum pensively, brow pinched. 'The creature Death turned into yesterday was eerily quiet too.' It suddenly strikes you that you know very little about the Horseman. As disturbing as that cloaked spectre was, you are still a human, and prone to the occasionaly bout of curiosity.

“That...monster, i-in the Drenchfort,” you ask carefully, ”that really was you, wasn't it?”

The only indication that he'd even heard you comes from the tightening of his jaw, one of the few features on his face that isn't concealed by a bone mask. Your gut twinges guiltily. Perhaps 'monster' was an insensitive term to use. Rushing to assure him that your comment had been nothing more than a Fruedian slip, you press on, “Well, I'm glad you had that nifty little trick up your sleeve. Scared the life out of me before I realised it was you though.”

Silence is all that follows, broken only by the steady clomping of the maker following behind you.

“In any case, I've been meaning to thank you, for saving me. Things were looking very dicey at the end there...” Once more, you trail off to chew at a loose bit of skin on your lip, though mainly, you're leaving time for Death to say something. Anything would be better than nothing at all. An acknowledging grunt, a scornful huff, it doesn't much matter, you only wish you didn't have to keep filling the uncomfortable quiet. Instead, disappointingly, Death pushes on ahead, outpacing you easily with his longer strides until he's several feet in front, leaving you to stare at the back of his head and wring your hands before trotting up behind him. “It wasn't all bad though, was it? I mean, before everything went totally 'A Bug's Life', it was actually kind of...fun-”

Without warning, the Horseman stops dead in his tracks. Thanks to the jarring change of pace, you collide with him painfully and Dust shoots from your shoulder into the air, away from potential danger. Once you've staggered backwards to right yourself, he rounds on you, fists clenched at his sides and a dangerous arch in his spine. “You have no idea what this is, do you!?”

Bowled over by the viciousness of his turn, you try to backpeddle, almost tripping on your own feet until Death snatches his hands out and grips the front of your jumper, hauling you off the ground and up to his mask. “This. Is not. A game!” he bellows so loudly, your eardrums rattle, “This is not some – some fun little adventure where you can get yourself beaten to a pulp, then fixed up by a maker, only to go out and do it all over again!”

Horrified, you try to stretch your toes to gather purchase on the ground, gasping out, “Why are you getting so worked up about it!? I knew the risks! So did you! You let me come with you!”

“That-!” For a fatal moment, he falters, shakes his head. “That is not the point!”

But you know you've been heard. His tone has already lost some of its bite and he lowers you back to the ground, fists gradually unfurling from the front of your jumper.

Stumbling several feet back once you're free, you stare up at him incredulously. “Then what is the point? Why are you being so prickly all of a sudden?”

“You,” he seethes, “are always doing stupid things that almost end up getting you killed!” Eyes flashing, the Horseman raises a rawboned hand in front of your face and begins counting off on his fingers. “You throw yourself at a corrupted construct outside the Cauldron, you try to take on a corrupted construct inside the Cauldron, you attacked Karkinos! Who – need I remind you – was hundreds of times your size!”

“She was hundreds of times bigger than you too,” you try arguing, only to find yourself rudely cut off when Death's hands fly out again, this time grasping your shoulders and digging sharp fingernails into the skin beneath your jumper.

“She almost killed you, you foolish human!” He punctuates his words by giving you a hard shake, his tone overwrought and strained....Just as your father's had once been....

It hits you like a sack of bricks that maybe Eideard had been right all along. Maybe the Horseman does care, at least a little more than he lets on.

The fingers still fastenened around your upper arms are beginning to hurt however, and it must show in your expression because after glaring into your face, Death blinks, his luminous eyes growing wide and he instantly jerks his hands back, staring down at you as though he'd only just remembered you're human.

Miserable shock still coursing through your veins, you eye the Horseman warily as he forces his hands down to his sides and wheels about, marching determinedly towards the staircase next to Thane's arena. After hesitating for a few seconds, you cautiously follow.

Upon your approach, the old warrior lowers his hammer - giving the training dummy he'd been whacking a well-deserved break – and lets out a booming laugh that almost seems powerful enough to rattle the pebbles at your feet. “HA! Bloo~dy Hell, yer a stout one, eh Lass? Didn't think I'd see you up and walkin' about again for a while!”

You take a moment to throw Thane a distracted wave. “Y-yeah! Muria and Eideard worked their magic! Um – Death!? Wait!”

Throwing his hammer over one, titanic shoulder, Thane watches bemusedly as you chase the Horseman right up to the bottom of the stairs where he abruptly draws to a halt, one foot on the first step and his head hung low.

You slow down behind him too, eventually stopping in his shadow and tipping your head at his back. Heavy footfalls to your rear signal the hesitant approach of Karn who at least has the sense to maintain some distance, just enough that you and Death aren't overwhelmed.

Unsure of yourself and of what the Nephilim before you is thinking, you press your lips together, hardly daring to say anything that might sour his mood even further. Somehow, you only imagine you'll make things worse.

Evidently, Death doesn't like the quiet any more than you do, for all of a sudden, his head snaps up. “Karn?”

The maker behind you straightens attentively and stammers, “Uh, aye?”

Without turning around, Death jabs a thumb over his shoulder. “She is not to follow me out of that gate, do you understand?”

“O-oh, er...” The youngling blanches, his gaze switching between you and the Horseman and feeling very much like he's caught between a rock and a hard place.

At his feet, your jaw hangs open, eyebrows gradually closing in on one another as incredulity replaces hesitancy. “Uh, excuse me?!” you sputter.

Death's neck stiffly pivots around until one, fierce eye lands on the youngling. “Karn? Am. I. Clear?”

Although his heart is nearly begging him to appease the little human he's grown so fond of, the maker's head takes a stand, and for the first time in his life, he decides to go with the safer option. Defeatedly, he lowers his eyes to the ground, conveniently failing to meet your gaze when you throw a pleading look up at him. “Aye,” he mumbles, “She'll not follow you...”

“Karn!” you exclaim, causing the maker to flinch, his ears drooping.

But the Horseman isn't satisfied and he calls out to the warrior standing nearby as well. “Thane, make sure he holds to that.”

With a roll of his eyes, Thane waves his concern aside. “Aye, I got it,” he replies, lowering his voice to add, “You bossy so-and-so.”

With a scoff, you spin around to Death again. “What's this about? Why can't I go with you?!”

“You're injured,” he states coldly, “You'll only slow me down.”

“But... but what if something bad happens to you again? Let me come so I can help you!”

“Let me make this perfectly clear.” With an invisible power rippling just below the surface of his skin, he twists himself around to face you properly and growls, “I neither need, nor want your help. Have you forgotten what I am? That I've been surviving just fine without your interference for my entire life?”

“I know that!” you press, frustrated, “Saying I want to help you is not the same as saying you're incapable!”

“Why would you want to help me though, when you know I don't even need it?”  

“Wh-!” A disbelieving scoff blows past your lips. “Gosh, I don't know! Maybe because that's what friends do? They help each other!”

That word, that dreaded word is out and off your tongue before you even realise what you'd just admitted. Stillness settles over the three of you as the weight of your blunder sinks in and Death's eyes fling open, alarmed.

Throughout his life, he's convinced himself that the concept of a friend is to have a weakness that can be exploited, it's to paint a target over their heads that tells enemies who to go after if they ever wanted to get to Death. He had hoped – prayed to a Creator he no longer knows exists – that you were sensible enough not to see him as anything more than the grim and glowering Horseman. Because if you ever saw him as a friend, he'd be plagued by that persistent glow in his chest which insists that being called 'friend' doesn't sound completely terrible. He'd have to acknowledge the question he's so far managed to refrain from answering; What does he consider you? What does it mean if he'd rather have you hate him but remain safe, than put you in danger yet stay on good terms? Karkinos had almost killed you, and that had been what it took to bring his Reaper form out of hiding - something that only happens under the most climacteric of circumstances.

Something in Death's chest constricts, which is odd, he thinks, given that there shouldn't be anything in there at all.

With the eyes of both you and Karn still fixed on him, the Horseman backs away further up the steps, shaking his head and uttering in a solemnn breath, “I'm not your friend.”

Then, without waiting to see your face crumple, he whirls about and storms towards the gate.

You swallow thickly and nod, lips pursed, unable to pretend that didn't hurt. It chips away at the confidence you've meticulously been building up since you arrived, leaves you suddenly unsure of yourself and wondering what you'd done so wrong that Death would rather leave you behind than have you as company.

Still....

You watch the Horseman's swiftly diminishing form until he's halfway up the steps. Although surly, tactless and belligerent to boot, Death has also shown you that there is a more amiable side to him, albeit buried deep, deep below the surface. He's saved your life, a lot. He seemed relieved that you weren't corrupted by a rogue construct and annoyed that you chose to try and save him. There've been certain things, patterns of behaviour here and there that clue you in to his softer nature, even though he might have tried to remain hard and distant at the time. One could say, however infrequently, that he's even behaved as a friend would.

Perhaps then, the difference in species is at fault here. Your definition of what a friend ought to be could very well differ wildly from his. He always seems surprised that you can take a liking to those around you so quickly, whereas he strikes you as a Horseman that's glacially slow to trust others. Perhaps it makes sense that it would take far longer for him to make a friend. He has, after all, been alive for a very, very long time. Certainly far longer than you have.

'Maybe,' a tiny voice in your ear whispers, 'Maybe I just need to try harder.'

A renewed sense of determination rises in your gut and your nostrils flare around a deep inhale, but below that, below the sudden drive that lights a fire in your belly, something else begins its arduous crawl to the surface, though you don't notice it yet. Something you've been tragically devoid of ever since the world ended and you were thrust onto this journey you have no desire nor right to be privy to. Looking back, you'd probably wonder how you didn't instantly recognise that first glimmer of courage - a quiet sort of courage, the very beginnings of a roar, but yet so soft and mellow that it barely rings louder than a whisper.

Common sense – a far more insistent presence - screams for you to be reasonable, you've been injured and it's very likely that you will be again if you follow Death out of that gate. However, the image of him crushed against that wall by Karkinos' horn is burned into the forefront of your mind's eye and lurks there, an ugly reminder that even Death himself can be vulnerable, and with that vulnerability comes an aspect of humanity.

Without even meaning to, you've humanised Death.

You square your jaw and try to march up the steps, almost catching up to the Horseman when you're suddenly plucked off your feet and hoisted back, clutched in a familiar fist.

“What the – Karn!” you yelp, battering uselessly on your captor's knuckles, “What're you doing?!”

The maker falters for a fleeting moment, his fingers twitching open by an inch before he summons his resolve and lifts you higher off the ground. You can feel his reluctance though, his hand gripping you gingerly as if he's afraid you'll shatter at any moment. It encourages you to wriggle with more fervor than ever in the hopes that you might slip free and escape.

But it's no use.

You may as well be trying to break out of a concrete cell – though stone might be more easily moved than an overprotective maker.

There's nothing, nothing you can do except to go limp in Karn's hand and stare dejectedly after the Horseman, a strange concoction brewing in your chest that's two parts hurt and two parts furious at him for leaving you behind like your presence has so far meant nothing to him.

Once he reaches the top of the stairs, you blink back a gathered wetness on your lashes and crane your head around, hitting Karn with a look so drenched in betrayal, the maker's immense heart wails.

“Now, now dun' look at me like that!” he whines, turning away from the steps and blocking your view of Death with his bulk. Despite his plea, you subject him to a few more seconds of hard scowling before swivelling your head forwards once more and blowing out a huff.

Karn stops once he deems the distance between you and the village gates is large enough and places you delicately on the ground. The moment his fingers slide off your back, you march several yards away and glare fiercely at the Makers' Forge, willing the entire mountain to crumble if only to alleviate some of the frustration building in your gut.

Behind you, Karn lingers where he came to a stop, tapping the pads of his forefingers together whilst his brain tries to come up with something to say. “Y/n?” he settles for after some hesitation. Staring down at the back of your head, he watches you give it a few, deliberate shakes. Then, you're facing him, your brows tilted up in such a way that feels like a punch to his gut.

“I can't believe you just did that,” you snap.

The maker grimaces, but tries to argue, “Death told me to-”

“I don't care what Death said!” Cutting him off with an exasperated laugh, you throw your hands up and continue, anger blemishing your sentences, “It – it shouldn't be up to Death what I do! It shouldn't be up to you!” Your voice suddenly cracks, yet you press on. “I'm sick of feeling like everything is out of my control! The world ended and I thought I was gonna die! I couldn't – I...I couldn't get home! I couldn't go back for the people in the church and I didn't even get to say goodbye to mum and dad and...and I....” Whatever burst of indignation had suddenly overcome you dies away along with your words and you blink, caught off guard by your own epiphany.

Seconds later, you let out a strangled sound and scrub at your eyes. “Ugh. I hate feeling so useless.” You abruptly turn away from him and look wearily to the forge again. It doesn't take long before Karn's heavy presence sidles up next to you and he falters, eventually sucking in a lungful of air before lowering himself noisily onto the steps beside you. His rucksack clanks and rattles with all the treasures he's stuffed in there.

“I don't think you're useless,” he mumbles and swipes a brusque thumb underneath his nose.

“Well....That makes one of us.”

“....”

“Karn?”

“Mm?”

You shift your gaze sideways and up, your jaw set. “I'm still mad at you.”

He swallows so thickly, you can see his adams apple bob like a fisherman's float. “Aye,” he nods, “S'posin' that's fair.”

There you sit, the oddest pair in the universe – a young maker and the last human – both of your heads resting heavy in your hands as a sigh whispers past your lips in perfect unison. To the right, lava oozes a lazy path into the makers' forge whilst in contrast, the river of crystal-clear tears gurgles by on your left. Neither seem in any particular hurry. They simply plod along as nature decrees, unhindered by such concepts as fear or doubt. They know exactly where they're going, and how to get there. They simply march on. And on and on and on, and those who don't move are removed. And those who won't stand aside are cut through. It may take thousands upon thousands of years for one, or mere minutes for the other, but both the river of fire and the river of water are of the same power. They go where they are needed without fuss or fight. You can't help but to envy them their surety. Sometimes you wish someone would guide you so concisely.

A shift in the air tugs you from your thoughts when the giant sitting next to you finally drops his hands into his lap and eases out a warm chuckle.

Glancing up at him, a question puckering your forehead, you ask, “What's so funny?”

Karn's eyes are swimming with a complex amalgamation of expressions. Amusement, fondness...pride. “Ah, nothin' much,” he huffs through a smile, “S'just, nice seein' your spine, is all.”

“My spine?” More baffled than not, you try to look back over a shoulder before his meaning catches up to you. “Oh.”

“Couple days ago, you were flinchin' from your own shadow, if I remember. Now look at you! Gettin' manhandled by the Horseman and you still call him 'friend' and want to go off lookin' for the Guardian with him. Ye've changed. I-In a good way!” he adds hastily.

Shrugging, you wet your lips and stare at the door ahead of you, anything to avoid his appraising eyes. “I haven't really noticed a difference.”

“I have,” he answers simply and leans his elbows back on the stairs behind him, head tilting to watch the clouds roll by.

You ponder his observation for a moment, then follow his example and look to the sky alongside him. “I guess if there has been a change, I have Death to thank for it.” After a pause, you add softly, “I've got a lot to thank him for, now that I think about it.”  

One of your canines digs mercilessly into your lip until it begins to hurt and you're forced to stop, heaving a loud sigh instead. “You know, just because I want to go with him doesn't meant I'm not scared. You roll your gaze away from the maker's face to stare idly at the shiny buckle of his rucksack strap. “To tell you the truth Karn, I'm terrified.”

Wearing a baffled frown, he asks, “Well, why'd you want to go so badly?”

Your mouth opens, shuts, and then your lips part with more care, only just opening wide enough for you to whisper reverently, “Because, he's my friend. I might not be his, but he is mine. Karn, I've lost everything. My home, my friends, my family...I really – like, really – don't want to lose anyone else.”

“You'll struggle to lose the Horseman,” he tries out a laugh, hoping to ease your fears, “He's small, aye, but tougher'n old boots!”

Eventually, you indulge him in a tiny smile. “Yeah, I know. But I still worry.”

Once again, your head finds itself resting on your knuckles as you lean forwards, elbows propped up on your knees. Next to you, the youngling tilts his own head and frowns at your sullen expression and pretends he doesn't envy the Horseman for consuming so much of your attention. But soon, he shakes the thought off and clambers to his feet, hands clapping together with enough force to jumpstart your heart. “Well!” he exclaims, “No point troublin' yerself. Tell you what, why don't we pack up those worries of yours and go do somethin' fun?” As you listen, he becomes more and more animated, his excitement evidenced by the hands that fly about to properly illustrate his ideas. “Maybe I can show you the rest of the village! You haven't even seen our-”

“Wait, what did you say?”

Karn pauses, his hands frozen in the air above his head. “Er....we could...do somethin' fun?”

“No, no. Before that!” Now it's your turn to jump up and stare at the maker, waving a pointed finger up and down at him. “Something about, 'packing up my worries...'”

An idea comes to you, a risky idea, but an idea nonetheless. The trickiest part of which will be convincing Karn to get on board, but you're hoping that without the literal threat of Death staring him down, he'll be more easily swayed.

Bouncing up onto your toes, you look the maker right in his eye and ask, “You and me, we're friends, right?”

The moment your question sinks in, his ears pin back. He appears nervous, tentative that you'll rescind his friendship status at any moment. “Course,” he nods a little too hard, a little too eagerly, “Yeah, o'course we are.”

“Are you sure?” Deep in your soul, you know it's awful and cheap to use manipulation tactics on the youngling, and it does leave a particularly sour taste in your mouth, but you simply don't know how else he'll agree. Folding your arms over one another, you cock a hip and drawl, “You sure weren't acting like it just then. On Earth, friends don't usually keep their other friends prisoner.”

The maker nearly crashes to his knees, pleading, “I-I'm not keepin' you prisoner! I'm keepin' you safe!”

“Same difference! I want to leave, but you're not letting me! How is that not imprisonment?”

“I-...Well, I....” His jaw snaps shut and you can practically see the resolve crumbling off him in chunks.

“Karn, please.”

An enormous fist is clenched at his side, hanging low enough for you to step right up to the maker and plant both of your hands on his knuckle, giving it an impoloring tug for added measure. “I need to get out of this village but I can't do that without your help.” The skin beneath your fingers grows warm and his hand twitches towards you, inadvertently pushing you back half a step. Karn draws his head up to stare at the mountain, at the working Forge who's voice is finally ringing out after so many years of silence. A silence ended, thanks to you and Death.

“Friends help each other,” the youngling breathes, echoing the words you'd spoken earlier before he drops his eyes to you once more, a grimace pulling at the corners of his mouth. A further several seconds drag by in which you remain under the intense scrutiny of that misty-grey gaze, and then, having apparently weighed the loss of a friend against the wrath of a Horseman, Karn makes his decision.

“What's your plan?” he grumbles, ears lain flat against his skull.

In return, you give him the broadest grin your can muster, which makes it very difficult for him to be too disgruntled.

“We-” you drawl suggestively, flicking a thumb between yourself and the increasingly apprehensive maker, “-are going to walk right out of that front gate.”

His sharp bark of surprise comes out as a comical squeak. “Eh!? You want to waltz right by Thane!?” he sputters for a moment before clearing his throat to add, “Trust me, there'll be no convincin' that old crosspatch, he'll never just let you walk! Not after Death told him to make sure you stay put!” He drives his point home by jabbing a meaty finger towards the ground.

In direct contrast to his fretting however, you don't even seem in the least bit concerned and an impish smirk sweeps across your features instead, to which the maker quirks a brow. “What? Whassat look for?”

“How much room have you got in that backpack of yours?” You raise your eyebrows at the object in question.

“Er...” Thrown off by the out-of-nowhere subject change, Karn glances over his shoulder and replies, “Bout enough space for a few more treasures.” He trails to a stop and eyes you suspiciously. “Why?”

“What if one of those treasures was, say...roughly the same size as a human?”

The maker's hand reaches up to scratch at the back of his neck and he blows out his cheeks. “Well, that depends on what it is. If I juggle some things around in the ol' bag, I could prolly squeeze in another trinket or two.”

“...Karn.”

“What?” he asks before finally catching the flat look you're giving him. “Oh.” A slow blink, and then, “Oooh!” Realisation lights up his eyes and they grow round as saucers, even as he takes the straps of his rucksack in hand and works the cumbrous load off his shoulders, plopping it down on the floor next to you and immediately seeing how easily you could slip inside. It towers above you, its shadow engulfing your every inch. The image only reaffirms to Karn just how tiny you really are.

Quick as a flash, you leap up to try and unfasten the top, only to come up about three feet short. Before you can try again, your jumper is pinched between two, thick fingers and you're pulled back, away from the bag to face Karn.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he frets, glancing over his shoulder to check that Muria and Thane are within neither eye, nor earshot. “Y'know Death won't be too happy when you show up at the temple.”

“He won't hurt me,” you reply with more conviction than you truthfully feel.

“Oh, aye! You'll be fine and dandy!” the maker scoffs, “S'actually me I'm worried about.”

Pausing to give his finger a consoling pat, you pull out of his grip and motion for him to open the lid of his rucksack. “Come on, Karn. What's an adventure without a little peril?”

The grumble that ensues pulls a laugh out of you, albeit a nervous one. You're well aware of the danger that lurks outside that enormous gate. The bruise on your side is testament to it. But whatever has swept in and washed away a part of your fear – however small that piece may be – is at least enough to keep you from changing your mind and staying in Tri Stone. So when Karn flips the lid and tips his bag down, you waste little time scrambling inside, squeezing yourself in amongst the bric-a-brac and trinkets he's stuffed down there. Once you've settled in between a familiar dish and some kind of gigantic, leather gauntlet, you look up through the opening to find Karn peering back at you, a hand scrubbing anxiously at the stubble on his chin. “This'll never work,” he warns in a sing-song voice, “Thane's got a nose for sniffin' out a lie.”

“It'll work. Trust me. Just show no fear, act like you know what you're doing and stroll right on through that door.”

The maker opens his mouth to argue, but soon shuts it again, gulping his words down and finally giving you a reluctant nod. Then, using a single finger, he closes his rucksack back up, plunging you into total darkness. There's a moment of stillness before you suddenly find yourself hoisted off the ground and swung through the air, coming to a jarring halt when your body collides with what you can only assume is a sturdy back, the trinkets around you rattling and clanking noisily as they too are subjected to the same treatment.

The solid surface your feet have been resting on abruptly shifts and you let out a squeal as you plummet a foot or so down further into the bag. Unfortunately, that squeal becomes a hiss after your side is bumped roughly against the rounded edge of Karn's journeyman dish.

“Y'alright?” a muffled whisper-shout reaches you from outside your temporary hiding place.

After taking a second to right yourself again, you reply in hushed tones, “Yeah, you?”

“Oh, sure,” comes his reply before you're promptly shifted again, this time into steady, swaying motions accompanied by the impact of mighty boots hitting stone and rumbling through your chest, letting you know he's on the move. Through the thick canvas of his bag, you hear the maker continue, “I'm right as rain, me. No worries here.” His sarcasm is palpable.

“You can do this, Karn. I believe in you.”

The youngling doesn't reply to your motivational yet concise words. However, you feel it clearly when he draws himself up high, each step he takes from then a little more sure and nimble. Following his example, you fall silent as well.

For several, long seconds, you hear nothing around you except the maker's heavy footfalls and the gentle clinking of metal all around you. But then, as you'd feared it would, Thane's distinctive voice booms out, low and commanding. “PUP!”

Karn freezes and turns slowly turns to face the old warrior, plastering on his most innocent grins. “Oi, Thane! Didn't see you there. How can I help?”

The older maker thumps to a stop before him and eyes the foot Karn has placed on the first step that leads to Tri Stone's gate. His bushy moustache twitches and, in an agonisingly slow fashion, he drags his eyes up to fix the youngling under his stern glare. “Where're you off to in such a hurry?”

“Er, just...goin' to check out the fjord!”

All of a sudden, Karn feels as though someone has painted the word 'liar' right across his forehead. “Now it's clear, I figure s'a good place for some explorin'.”

Thane's expression doesn't budge an inch, though he does glance and the ground near his feet, searching. “And, where's your little friend?”

“She's in the Forge.”

The warrior's eyebrow hikes up his forehead. “Oh? And you're not with her? Thought you said you weren't leavin' her side, 'no matter what?'”

If Karn doesn't end up giving himself away, the pink blush creeping into his cheeks soon will. He'd made the proclamation while you were in Muria's garden, still unconscious. “O-oh! Yeah, I did say that...”

Inside his rucksack, you have your fingers crossed so tightly, any more tension could well snap them off. But just as you're mentally willing him to be a better liar, Karn surprises you by releasing a sigh so soft and forlorn, he gives the impression of a maker far more advanced in years than he is.

“She... don't exactly want t'be round me at the moment.”

Taken aback, Thane blinks, shifting his weight and waiting for the youngling to elaborate. “Turns out she don't appreciate me keepin' her here. Said I was bein' a bad friend, so...So, yeah.” He trails off with a shrug and scratches at his nose, eyes trained on the ground.

Jesus. You're in on the lie and even you feel awful for what you'd supposedly said. Hell, now that you think about it, is that how Karn had interpreted the things you said to him earlier? Sure, you hadn't outright said he was a bad friend but you had insinuated he wasn't behaving as a friend should. 'Ah...Shit.' You wince and absently press a hand flat against the rucksack wall, feeling the solid muscles of Karn's back warm on your skin. They bunch at your touch, relaxing seconds later and you can only hope your apology is conveyed in the simple contact.

Suddenly, you're tugged from your thoughts by Thane, whose gruffness has been all but buried underneath a rare moment of sympathy. Exhaling a rough breath, he claps one, brawny hand on the younger maker's shoulder and gives him a well-intentioned jostle. “Ach, well, I'm...sure she'll come around soon, eh?”

“I hope so.”

Thane presses his lips into a tight grimace and nods awkwardly, patting Karn's back a few more times before he clears his throat and gives the other maker a shove towards the gate. “G'wan then, go take your mind of her for a bit.”

Trying not to let his mouth gape open in disbelief, the youngling tosses his thanks to Thane  and makes his escape, feeling the warrior's eyes on him all the way into the tunnel.

It's only once he turns the first corner and breaks Thane's line of sight that Karn releases the lungful of air he's been holding onto and breaks into a lumbering trot, easily traversing his way through the tunnel until eventually, he steps out into the sunshine on the other side. Trembling with the adrenaline of disobeying his elders so brazenly, he has to take a minute to collect himself, breathing in the crisp air of the vale and feeling the wind on his face before he reaches back and carefully removes his rucksack.

Light floods your cramped hidey-hole and you briefly shy away from it, having to shield your eyes until a large shadow falls across the opening and you squint up into the face of a stupefied maker. His grin is slight and he emits a bewlidered laugh as he reaches inside the rucksack and scoops you out. “I can't believe that worked!”

Sliding comfortably into the centre of his palm with your legs dangling over the side, you return the laugh and reply, “What did I tell you? You're a natural!” You fall silent, losing your smile and looking down at your hands. “A little too natural if you ask me.”

“Karn...What I said back in Tri Stone, about you not acting like a friend-”

“Ach! Weren't nothin' by it!” he dismisses with a chuckle that doesn't quite sound genuine, “You were right, friends shouldn't be holdin' each other back like that! S'pose I'm just out of practice is all. S'been a while since I've had a real friend.”

“Surely the other makers....” you begin, but Karn is already shaking his head.

“Eh, they're more family than anythin' else,” he explains brightly, “But family don't always get along, you know?”

Guilt makes itself at home in your gut like a malevolent parasite. Your friendship obviously means more to him than you realised. Regarding the youngling with a newfound understanding, you nod slowly. “Yeah....Yeah, I get you.” Then, “Karn?”

“Yeah, what?” he replies, lifting you up and depositing you on his broad shoulder amidst the tangle of his warm, wooly scarf.

“You are a good friend.” It hardly feels like enough from where you're sitting, but judging by the toothy grin that breaks across his features and lifts his cheeks, it's at least enough for him. You allow a few more moments for him to sheepishly scratch at his neck with his unoccupied hand before you lean forwards and raise a brow at him.

“Um, I can walk you know.”

“Wha? Oh, I know!” he says a little too quickly, “Just thought it'd be faster this way.”

You give him a suspicious hum but ultimately drop the matter, unwilling to argue. After all, he does have a point. And it wouldn't exactly do to arrive at the temple already exhausted from jogging all the way there, trying to match the maker's enormous strides.

So, drawing in a breath too deep to allow room for trepidation in your lungs, you wrap a hand up in Karn's scarf and the two of you set off towards Baneswood, both safe in the knowledge that, no matter what happens next, neither of you will be facing it alone.

[talldarkandroguesome]

50th Entry in Coldharbour

I should not have made any comments about having magickal abilities. I should not have agreed to consider the Mage’s Guild.

I was careful with how I moved around the city, my eyes keenly peeled for any sign of Silm-Kia. I knew she wanted much with me after how she had acted the previous day. So when I saw her waiting by the shipments, I decided to go and pick up lists from the Fighter’s Guild, the Undaunted, Zur, and the quartermaster of the joint war effort.

After gathering the lists I returned to the Mage’s Guild to find that Silm-Kia was not there. One of the mages present told me that she had waited for me but then left to go take care of her duties, but that she had requested that I should report to her when I had time to spare.

I made sure to take my time with each delivery. I spoke at length with everyone I delivered to and eve offered to help put provisions where they go rather than leave each group to complete them all on their own.

I made sure that my last delivery was to Zur, whom I was able to assist with his alchemical experiments. It was getting on rather late by the time he decided to break and take his supper. He invited me to join and it would have been rude to decline such an offer.

We spoke a long while about a great many things. He was particularly pleased that the portals had managed to be stabilized and now any others who were going to teleport in would not have to suffer the same fate as so many of us had early on. I could see that sadness lurking in his eyes. So I sung him a song to soothe his pain. He thanked me for the lovely night cap to his evening, then retired. I did not blame him.

I went back to the Mage’s Guild and inquired if Silm-Kia had retired for the evening. I was told that she had gone back to her chambers, but that if I had something important to report, that she would doubtlessly welcome my company, as she often stayed up well into the night even on Nirn. I asked that she be informed I had asked after her and apologized for having missed the chance to speak with her.

Returning to Dra’nassa, she was already preparing for bed. Still, she inquired after my health and progress. She was glad to hear I was able to contribute.

I stayed up a short while to help prepare herbs and resins for Dra’nassa’s potions. She was surprised I did not wish to have a dream ritual performed, but I was not sure when I would go to bed and I did not desire to keep her from rest.

Even when I had finished, I did not feel ready for sleep, even if it were a dreamless one.

With my cloak pulled around me, I went to the tavern. I do not know what I sought. Perhaps a sense of familiarity? A chance to try and recover my old self?

There were few there drinking, no music was playing. It was a little depressing. I did not even stay for a drink. I left to look for something, though I did not know with any certainty what I was searching for.

In the end, I found a carpenter who was still open. I asked what they had available. Her husband, a bow-maker, had several recurve and crossbows available. Her staves were finely crafted, but would do little good wielded by my hands. The wooden shields were finely carved with intricately colored staining.

She gave me a look that spoke of her understanding that this was not what I sought. So she asked me if I was looking for furniture, for she knew of those where we selling furnishings.

I told her I was looking for something unusual. A curiosity or instrument with which to pass the time.

At this she perked up. She said that she had an idea if something more rudimentary was sufficient. I said that it would and she asked me to give her an hour and a half and for me to return after that.

So I walked around the city, looking at the houses, many of which are no longer dark and boarded up, but warmly lit and wish banners of hope hung from windows and doors instead of dust and cobwebs.

The Groundskeeper had said she had wanted life breathed into the city in exchange for her assistance. Looking at what this place has become, I believe that we are doing just that.

I made my way back to the carpenter to find her with a grin on her face and a flute in her hand. She said it would not have the best tone, but that it would give me something of music to play. With the need for producing items for battle, she could not spare the time, nor wood, to do a better instrument, in size nor  quality, but that she hoped this might please me.

It did, in fact. So I paid her coin for the flute, plus tip for her creativity and taking out time to make something special for me. I tried it out. The f is a little sharp, but usable.

As a thank you, I played her a short tune on it, quietly as possible, of course. It seemed to brighten her smile even more. I thanked her and then went to the north gate of the city and played it for a while. I felt some part of me relax.

Perhaps Dra’nassa was right about music and I should attempt more to connect with it. I slept soundly enough. For a little while anyways.

I awoke when Dra’nassa began to stir and could only stay asleep for a while after she had begun working.

When I roused myself, I showed her the little flute and told her its story. She was pleased to hear that I was going to give music a try, so at her request, I played several tunes for her while she worked. We laughed about the slightly sharp f. With her keener hearing it was a far less pleasing sound to her than it would be to others, but she thanked me for the music.

Mid-morning, Plays-With-Fire arrived. I was worried about what he might have to say to me, but he was mostly asking if I was truly planning to enter the Mage’s Guild. I told him I had not made any decisions, but that Silm-Kia was quite keen on the idea.

He jested with me about my not having gone to him first and for not mentioning it to him. I told him that I have been rather tired of late and trying to assist with those in need. That I had not considered joining the Guild, only I had been asked to speak with Silm-Kia and she had me go through some strange magickal test or another.

As I spoke I could see that it was sinking in as to where I was and perhaps even why. He told me he was sorry if the questions or jests were given in poor taste. I told him not to apologize, I knew he had meant no harm.

We agreed that I would take some time to consider the Mage’s Guild before I committed to anything. He then asked if he could do his usual checks on my state of being as a vestige. Dra’nassa seemed both slightly uncomfortable and intrigued, so I suggested that we find somewhere private for such things.

There was a house that was not yet occupied, but whose door stood open, not far from the Mage’s Guild. We ran through the usual things. Checking over my body, the tether to my soul, and my general health. All seemed to be about where it was back on Nirn, though it was clear that my soul was closer and the bond stronger here in Coldharbour. It was a relief to know that this meant we are in the right place to retrieve my soul. It has not been moved out of Coldharbour.

Plays-With-Fire tells me also that once the last search party returns, the plan is to push forward into the north of Coldharbour and try to gain a foothold on the territory there in order to move easily make an assault on this plane’s master. I cannot say I feel prepared. When is a mortal ever truly ready to face a House of Trouble in the flesh?

Yet this must be done. The planemeld must be stopped at any cost. And I fear there will be a great cost to this indeed.

[kiingbiing]

bro Please show us ur ocs what

gladly

just know that names will change bevause i have too many characters woops (im a bad character maker lol)

i made them children who murder but now i dont know what to do with them, soon i will make a story for them

king and jester raise a baby and fall inlove :]

theyre originally humans but with a potion gone wrong, they end up as animals and now they have to work together to turn themselves back, also the snake works with the law and the mouse is a crook

dnd character, but i never got to play him cause i never played dnd, lol, one day, i will

ethan works at a cafe and got turned into a vampire, carter is a monster hunter and wendy is his assisstant. carter has the hots for ethan and ethan doesnt want to acknolwedge his existence. maggie and callie is ethan’s friend, barry LIKES wendy

the triplets were inspired by moosop ngl, but i do remember making triplets in 5th grade lol

inspired by tarzan, but i changed the story cause i made these characters when i was younger and i cant abandon them. meriam raised talia (i changed her name) when she decided to leave london and live in the jungle. talia barely speaks because her speech isnt good. mark comes to visit his mother and to try and see if the island can be used for good money, mark and talia hate each other for this fact.

made this in 4th grade cause my first lesbian ship was bubbaline and i was like, i dont have enough lesbian ships, gotta make my own then,

no name for them but its set in the philippines, inspired by our monsters :]

a fellow monster has to be in love with their food

fairly odd parents oc, josh and penny got adopted by this rich couple, and everything was fine till they figured out that they only got adopted because the parents would get more money from their parents if the wanted kids, this warrented a god parent and francis is here. francis HATES children and is onyl doing this because its good money. penny is too energetic, josh is the quiet kid and francis hates kids, but he can handle one, hes not gonna be able to handle 2

theres 2 stories for this, bt judas and merith were in an arranged marriage and percy became merith’s crying buddy when judas is mean, they can be in a threesome, still dont know. still have to upadte this story

dominic goes savage during the full moon and his sister is the only one who knows this secret. the two rodents have a thing for dominic

these were just random ocs with no actual plot line, dino and cloudy are buddies and they go everywhere together

the colony of ants have a thing for the ant eater, not the tables have turned lol

dad is forced to raise a baby and he cant cause hes sad depressed, and he just doesnt know what to do but he can abandon her. jerry is like, buddy, BUDDY, if u let me crash, i can help out, hes helpful, 

used to be an adventure time oc but i scrapped it, 

princess aya runs away from the royal family to find her missing sister cause she doesnt want to be queen 

she meets with red, a thief who dabbles with magic, which is illegal, 

due to unfortunate events, red helps aya find her sister

animal crossing ocs. kenny and lola are dating :]

one and two are childhood friends? one was mean and two got depressed, but now one is trying to make up for it

kylan is failing his class, so richard has to tutor him to make sure hes on the right track, kylan just doesnt want to do anything with him, and when he realises that richard has a hard time making friends, he makes it his task to help him make a friend, in return, richard has to leave him alone

just two teenagers coming to terms about their feelings for each other.

braden never gave romance a thought until he reached middle school. he started to crush on george hard and he doesnt know how to handle this and he tries to deny it.

george is straight and is just vibing, and he thought things were fine until braden confessed his feelings.

braden is demisexual (im demi, hes very special to me)

this ones old, (also i made another oc thats named carter WOOPS)

no name (teddy) got kicked out from home when his mom figured out hes gay, and carter is a rich art student that needs a model and he ask teddy to become his model. carter pays teddy a good sum of money, (i need to work on this story woops)’

melissa is a rich blind girl and shes not allowed to party and go outside if she doesnt hire a body guard (thanks dad), she hired danny, an ex underground boxer to help her around the city. 

in this world, magic welders are getting killed because only officials are allowed to use magic. momma summons demote, a demon, with a deal that he keeps her daughter safe. demote and harper hate each other and they have to tolerate each other in order to get away from the hunters. dewey is a forest entity that latched onto harper

my little pony oc 

madison loves flowers, she tends flowers and honestly? flowers only.

valentine is a match maker and she stumbles upon madison, and her match making skills dont work on madison, just ponies being ponies :]

characters made with my friends but i lost contact with them and one day, ill work on their stories

david is in his first public school and he meets molly and he doesnt vibe with her cause she doesnt talk to him and it didnt settle with him right, so he bullies her, and when he figures out that shes deaf and maliciously bullied her, hes just, not happy and tries to make it up to her, and shes not having it

life and death, my friend wanted me to make a comic bout life and death,

just ur standard life and death ship

used to be an adventure time oc but i changed it

andrew grew up in a religious household with strict parents, making him study. hes not allowed to be with friends

margee is raised by her uncle because her dad died in a car accident,

dally has a strained relationship with his dad, his dad being an alcoholic and not taking care of his health

they were all childhood friends and then they got seperated, when they got older, they all saw each other and got together for support

(ok imm a fool and i try to make a webcomic but i keep not not finishing it so, woops)

bunny ocs when i was younger, i need to work on their stories, sorry, no other info except they want to beat each other lol

cupid accidentally shots an arrown at ching and now they fell inlove with mar, and mar just wants to vibe and be ignored but with ching contantly trying to woo mar, cupid thinks thats enough and tried to help mar because that wasnt suppposed to happen lol

girl realises that the monsters under her bed and in her closet are real and tries to get her mother to help her.

her mother abuses her and the girl is just scared and she doesnt know what to do

(im getting lazy)

baintly wants to be a good wizard but she sucks at everything

butters(the broom) is accidentally made when she tried to summon her animal

she was about to get kicked out of school but out of sepretation, she promised her school that she’ll go get a gem from a feared dragon in order to prove her place in the school

she got lonely and got a pet bunny and fox

terry accidentally summoned perry and she doesnt know how to handle a demon in her room, ralph is terry’s friend

set in space and theyre all animals

the top are a bunch of criminals and the bottoms arer in the police forces

and they both have to work toegether to get rid of a dangerious villian set to destroy the galaxy

ok so i lost their names but basically, big demon goes to the human world and befriends a child. other demon is the right hand and he follows his master and hes just a ball anxiety. the older sister is a monster hunter and she tries to kill the big demon living in her house

[aion-rsa]

Rick and Morty’s Most Gruesome Deaths

https://ift.tt/3m2NOh1

The super-slick, super-sick Rick and Morty brand is known for many things: the warped, borderline-abusive dynamic between its titular characters, its deliciously dark humour, the gleefulness it takes in capsizing the conventions of a thousand genre tropes. Then there are the catch-phrases, and the colourful cast of supporting characters – everything from fatally-depressed Mr Meseeks to embedded family friends like Mr Poopybutthole. What really characterises it though, is death. That it’s not the first association you make with the show is possibly a by-product of there being so damn much of it that it stops registering.

There are long deaths, slow deaths, good deaths, bad deaths, sad deaths, funky deaths, perfunctory deaths, ironic deaths, iconic deaths, horrid deaths, hilarious deaths and hectares of borderline disturbing deaths.

Here are the most gruesome, in all their gory glory, season by season. (It’s a testament to Rick and Morty’s perpetually heavy ante that a little girl having her head sliced off by a Freddy Krueger substitute doesn’t even make it onto the list.)

I hope you haven’t eaten yet.

S1, E3 ‘Anatomy Park’ Come Flay With Me

Morty fails to save a fellow miniaturised man when things go south in ‘Anatomy Park’, a themed pleasure experience situated inside the body of a chronically unwell homeless man. The poor soul is sucked through the dying tramp’s windpipe and out through his mouth, the skin and flesh being stripped from his bones in the process, leaving him a peeled human spit-ball.

S1, E3 ‘Anatomy Park’ Space Guts

Things aren’t any less gruesome when the bloated corpse of the tramp is made giant by science. It ends up floating in space – because of course it does – whereupon it’s blown to smithereens, sending bone and guts spiralling into the void.

S1, E5 ‘Meeseeks and Destroy’ Who You Gonna Kill?

Morty not only finds himself preyed upon by parasite zombie versions of his family, but also has to watch as they’re trapped, burned, squished, melted and pulled into a piece of trapping technology that Rick clearly ripped from Egon’s ghost-busting manual.

S1, E5 ‘Meeseeks and Destroy’ Fairytale Ending

A fairytale giant – in the ‘Fe Fi Fo Fum’ mould – slips in his kitchen and slams his skull on a table-top. He bleeds out, a look of mystified shock frozen in his eyes, convulsing as his life-force ebbs away. RIP childhood.

S1, E6 ‘Rick Potion #9’ RIP and Mortal

In a sequence as chilling as it is gruesome, Rick mishandles some super-dangerous piece of kit and blows himself and Morty to Kingdom Come. Their crumpled remains, spattered with blood, smash against the wall; Rick’s eye pops out. Our own – thankfully unscathed – Rick and Mortys arrive from a doomed neighbouring dimension to bury them and take their place.

S1, E8 ‘Rixty Minutes’ Lepre-gone

You should never watch Inter-dimensional TV on a full stomach. In this advert, a cereal-hocking leprechaun – the mascot of this universe’s favourite breakfast cereal, Strawberry Smiggles – is pinned down on a tree stump by a little boy and girl, who proceed to slit open his abdomen and feast on his spilled-out innards; even squeezing out cereal shapes from his intestines and gobbling them like Pez sweets.

S2, E4 ‘Total Rickall’ Memory Massacre

Morty and family encounter shape-shifting alien parasites that reproduce through implanting false memories in a host’s brain. Their pus-fountained death throes – as their bodies wither, wilt, and burst in a screaming fanfare of tentacles – is pretty gruesome to behold, but thankfully you become desensitised to it pretty quickly.

S2, E7 ‘Big Trouble in Little Sanchez’ Rick Kills Himselves

At least Rick is an equal opportunities murderer. Even another version of himself isn’t exempt from his nihilistic rage. Here he gleefully smashes, drop-kicks and hacks up his own glass-encased surrogates, leaving a pile of bloodied parts strewn across the floor.

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S2, E8 ‘Interdimensional Cable 2: Tempting Fate’ Man vs Car

Another Interdimensional TV segment, another stomach churner. Literally this time.  A punkish strongman is crushed to death under the wheels of a car he’d hoped to repel, his blood and body parts thrown from the fast-spinning tyres like fireworks from a Catherine Wheel.

S2, E8 ‘Interdimensional Cable 2: Tempting Fate’ Jerrymurdering

Jerry is violently shot to death, leaving his face a drooping, lacerated, blood-dripping husk. Thankfully he’s in a technologically sophisticated futuristic hospital that presumably offers socialised healthcare.

S2, E9 ‘Look Who’s Purging Now’ Mashes to Mashes

When Rick and Morty don robo-suits and enter the Purge, expect blood. When Rick hoists a purgee off the ground and pops his head off like it was a bottle-top, sending a fountain of blood arcing into the air, it’s pretty damn disgusting – and admittedly also a bit cool – but for gruesomeness you can’t beat the sight of two people having their heads slammed together leaving a mess of pink-hued, brain-flavoured mashed potato.

S3, E1 ‘The Rickshank Rickdemption’ Pop Goes the Weasel

In the midst of some inter-dimensional Rick and Morty-based carnage, a poor Morty is crushed to death with one swift trample, as if he were nothing more than a tube of toothpaste. His dead body lies on the ground like a stuffed tiger rug, his hollow eye sockets and melon-mouth aflame with blood.

S3, E2 ‘Rickmancing the Stone’ Bad Beth

Summer flips a Mad Max-style baddy’s death-machine, maiming him horribly. He drags his torso towards her from the wreck, on a slime of entrails, pleading with her to put him out of his misery. ‘OK,’ she says, ‘But not because you told me to.’

S3, E2 ‘Rickmancing the Stone’ Give Him a Big Hand

For maximum yuk, you really can’t beat Morty smashing skulls to a pulp in a Thunderdome-inspired death arena with his beefy, vengeful and murderously sentient replacement arm.

S3, E3 ‘Pickle Rick’ Rat-a-tat-splat

I’m going to condense multiple deaths into one here, all perpetrated by that mighty, vegetable-based superhero, Pickle Rick. First, he slices off a rat’s head with a trap and harvests its bones and sinew to add limbs to his pickle body. Next, he proceeds to dispatch a whole army of rats with his makeshift power-tools in a variety of brutal and ghastly ways: pummelling brains; suspending bleeding corpses from the ceiling; cutting them into strips, and even cleaving them in two. Riotously disgusting.

S3, E3 ‘Pickle Rick’ Laser Tag

Pickle Rick’s human opponents fall just as easily – and horrifically. The best, and messiest, kill is when Pickle Rick bores a laser-shot through the heads of three of his enemies, and then proceeds to stare cockily through the tunnelled lens of charred goo like some pickle-based James Bond.

S3, E4 ‘Vindicators 3: The Return of Worldender’ Falling Down

Speaking of Superheroes, let’s say hello and goodbye to Morty’s favourite team, The Vindicators, most of whom met a particularly savage end. First there’s Vince Maximus, who flies into a ceiling vent, and is shot to death in such a spirit of Rambo-esque overkill that his disembodied legs drop to the ground like a downed plane.

S3, E4 ‘Vindicators 3: The Return of Worldender’ See You Later Alligator (In a Pile, Crocodile)

Then there’s Croc-u-bot, splatted into a green pulp by a springing trap.

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S3, E5 ‘Vindicators 3: The Return of Worldender’ Ants in His Pants

And the perpetually angry Alan Rails, whose gullet is invaded by the shifting, morphing body of Million Ants, who first inflates him then detonates him in a riot of guts.  

S3, E5 ‘The Whirly Dirly Conspiracy’ Game Over

This one if possibly the most viscerally gruesome death in the entire show. A little girl is shot through the head by her giggling boy pal just as Rick deactivates the invincibility shield protecting everyone inside the dome from death.

S3, E5 ‘The Whirly Dirly Conspiracy’ A Bug’s Death

Another death that’s psychologically, rather than physically, gruesome. Three little bug-people sit toasting each other’s health and happiness. ‘Let’s just relax and enjoy our retirement,’ says one, as he’s snatched by a bird of prey and carried to his doom. The last thing we see of him as he’s ferried to his horrible off-screen death is the open portal of his screaming mouth.

S3, E6 ‘Rest and Ricklaxation’ Party Poopers

A furry party-entertainer and a bunch of happy young kids are engulfed in a toxicity field. An angry exchange ensues, which culminates in the brutal beating, beheading and evisceration of the entertainer. They’re also available for weddings and Bar Mitzvahs.

S3, E7 ‘The Ricklantis Mixup’ Morty’s Flush

Thousands of dead Rick and Mortys float eerily through space having been tossed from the airlock by a homicidal Morty.

S4, E1 ‘Edge of Tomorty: Rick Die Rickpeat’ Crystal Death Addiction

When Morty first gazes upon the death crystal we see a shimmering smorgasbord of possible deaths. If you’ve got a fast pausing-hand, or the eyes of a spider, you’ll see such memorably brutal deaths as: Morty being sucked through a spacecraft toilet and ejected into the cold, airless void of space; dropped into a nest of giant baby birds and torn asunder; decapitated by an elevator door; and even falling from a skyscraper and being whisked to death by helicopter blades.

S4, E1 ‘Edge of Tomorty: Rick Die Rickpeat’ Rick’s Crystal Maze

Rick carks it in some hellishly grizzly ways, too. He’s torn in half by Squanch, is eaten by a giant spider, has his head splattered open like a melon by a swinging log, and – in perhaps the most horrific segment – has his body churned through a rectangular aperture in a giant Play Doh maker.

S4, E1 ‘Edge of Tomorty: Rick Die Rickpeat’ Clunk, click. Dead Rick.

Rick soon after dies for real (but not forever) in a spacecraft crash following some death-crystal-related shenanigans, smashing through the windscreen and impaling himself on a spike.

S4, E1 ‘Edge of Tomorty: Rick Die Rickpeat’ The Wasp Factory

Extra points for top tier body-horror gruesomeness with this one. Wasp Rick lays eggs in giant Rick’s eye, causing fast-hatching grubs to spill out from his massive mouth. Seconds later, a horde of Rick-wasps hatches en masse from his face, splitting it open like an overboiled hot-dog. Yuk!

S4, E3 ‘One Crew Over the Crewcoo’s Morty’ Treachery Will Tear Us Apart

Heist artist Miles Knightley is torn apart like a chicken dinner by a medley of bizarre alien creatures – a cross between the ghosts from The Real Ghostbusters intro sequence and something that fell out of Clive Barker’s nightmares – whose piece de resistance is yanking the skin from his wet skull like it’s a bad mask. 

Are there any particularly gruesome deaths you’d like to add to the list? Or would you like to weigh in on which of these fatalities repulsed or horrified you the most?

The post Rick and Morty’s Most Gruesome Deaths appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/3bCWI0f

[ghosticalz]

Isnt it exciting??? if you read somewhere at the 2nd last paragraph, would you like to join the theory time?! don't forget to join the fun ;3

My first design of all my Ocs.

Here are the explanation and some facts

● Zinzin(2016) - first, he supposed to be the leader of the dark cult summoning ghosts and stuff and he supposed to be Minmin's cousin( later changed to Minmin's lil brother cant remember the reason why)

● Minmin(2016) - She is basically a nerd. Her interests about aliens and some science stuff make she met with a vampire boy named Hamton

In the comic, she has a very good grades at school but in the end she ended up suicide (jumping from the top of the building on src - 40s) after that her death cause Zin(her little brother) depressed.

● Hamton(2016) - a vampire boy who is very rich but a coward formerly Minmin's boyfriend. We dont have much information about him but we know he lives the smell of new books. He disappeared after Minmin's death.

There once was a video on tumblr about Hamton went on party with the aliens and landed on the sun and died. Unfortunately even the author not quite sure that video should be official or unofficial. However the video got deleted.

● Jamin(2016) - surname was Hokian before the author put him into in comic. And then changed his name to Jamin Chularin instead of James Hokian.

He is a young man that dont know what to do with his life or even his purpose. Even though he looks so calm he deeply trying to survive the world of nowadays society. Always taking a part time job and make money for himself.

Jamin is an orphan when he was 7. Both of his parents died from Tsunami in Phuket(2004) after that his grandma(†), uncle(†) and his aunt took care of him.

We dont really know about his age, but probably his parents and Zin's parents are very close so that's one of the reason why Jamin and Zin seems to be so close to each other.

● Killy( late 2014 ) - the first sketch of killy is on my sketch notebook if you scroll down to the last photo, that's the first drawing of Killy.

Killy is one of my favorite ocs. He is a little psychopath. Got an inspired by Jhonen Vasquez's comic called I feel sick, JTHM, and Squee.

I didnt plan any story or plot when i first making that comic called Killy Death (with a shitty grammar) and it ends in 2015 or 2016

It turns out well so i continued the comic. Later, in mid 2017 i make a reboot of Killy comic called Killy Valentino.

● Darling Dear(2015) - my favorite female ocs. She is a crazy witch who kills men to make a meal for another men. She is very good at cooking but down in her kitchen is such a horror. She only save her love for a vampire demon name black. She keeps killing those men who fall for her to make a meal to teach them a lesson, but she has gone too far. That's why she is a crazy woman.

Mostly spend her time in a laboratory, making love potion and death potions and stuff which she's enjoy making them. Even interested in science and magic.

First was supposed to be a sweet cute horror fantasy comic about 2 brothers, a rich ghost and a handsome vampire falling for a witch. But for me i think that's too normal boring and cliche, so here I created a dark comedy romantic homicidal love story for a witch who kills man to make a meal for another man and make a meal out of that man for another man until her love interest, vampire dude comes to her.

Unfortunately, The story of witch girl was never a comic due to the time and efford. But sure enough that one day, the author (or i) will look back at this and bring her to the comic too.

At least i hope so. If ppl will like dark humo

● Zik and Lukas(2014) - the oldest Ocs of mine(comics) zik is the demon were banished from hell cause he is a trouble maker and Lukas is the angel who is so grumpy and bad so the god banished him to human world.

They met together later when the comic start. Was a very good friend.

This comic was quite successful in russia, ukraine countries.

But then i stop cause of the word 'copycat' which i dont wanna be like that.

I abandoned those two character and move to my very own comic Killy Death. And know waiting for them to come back. Probably they would be so mad at Zin and Lee or Jamin.

-

Maybe all of my characters ocs are the reincarnation of the old dead Ocs, Who knows?

My comics are all in the same univerese just different world and story, they could have lived in the same neighborhood.

Make a theories. Maybe your non sense could be the key of all Eyeb0nez's comic universe.

You know Darwin is a dimension traveller, right? And what's my name again? I give you a tiny hints in a comic background ;3

Try to find it and have fun.

-

That's it for today, if sometimes i clean my room and found an old sketch book to re think if my memory, then maybe later, i'll show you my old ocs and some other stuff. Hope you enjoy reading this and dont forget to comment down below c;

What do you wanna know next? Feel free to ask me anything down below in the comment section. Have a nice day! Good night! ;3

[lilyheardjamesfall]

In Noctem

The rain lashed against the dark windows as a clap of lightning illuminated the room for a split second. Lily loved thunderstorms at Hogwarts, the way that the candlelight shuddered at claps of thunder, and the sound of rain torrenting on the large stones that built up the castle as water sluiced down the clear windowpanes. The effect was both cozy and lonesome. And Lily loved to bask in feelings of melancholy and dreariness. Especially since the war had started and the news stories in the Prophet were becoming increasingly grim, Lily felt herself sinking and sliding into depression and worry. Not too noticeable at first, the despair crept up on her as she read a new story every day of the gruesome things happening to Muggles and Muggle-borns outside the sturdy castle walls, in a world that Lily believed was better than this. When she first learned about the wizarding world, she had naively hoped that it would be more equal, more just. After all, if everyone had magic capabilities regardless of race, class, or gender, it would surely lead to a more egalitarian society. But Lily had learned that the Wizarding World was just as complex and unfair as the Muggle world, with deep seeds of tension imbedded in things as simple as which Hogwarts House you were sorted into.

Lily shook herself out of her reverie. She had come to this particular spot in the Common Room because it was secluded, and would allow her to enjoy the thunderstorm in peace, with a mug of tea. She was sitting on a windowseat tucked into a far corner of the Common Room, the curtains half drawn, a flimsy protective shell around her, a cocoon protecting her from the worries and anxieties of the life that took place outside. Here she was just Lily, existing at the same time as the storm that was whipping up the Lake outside. Her thoughts wandered to more pleasant things, to the upcoming Hogsmeade trip, the fall colors that had made Hogwarts even more resplendent than usual, her recent perfect marks in Potions that left her glowing, her surprising ease with the Head Boy, Potter. Even if she had started calling him James to herself for a while now. If Lily was being honest with herself, she was secretly extremely pleased at the way that the two of them worked together. Ever since the unspeakable incident fifth year, Lily had to admit that James had done his best to straighten himself out. He and the Marauders were still incorrigible pranksters, but James had buckled down on harmless fun as opposed to heightening tensions with the Slytherins. When Lily had commented on it last year, he just got a faraway look on his face and muttered something about the War, and the necessity to keep everyone lighthearted but not to belittle anyone. And Lily had looked at him since with a different set of eyes.

It hadn’t been hard to befriend him, not since he started genuinely caring for others instead of his image. He had actually come up with an idea to provide support groups and counselling to Muggleborns and those who had lost family members in the war, and he had approached her first about it. When she pushed her animosity to the side, they had proposed the idea to McGonagall, who was somewhat unbalanced by James’ idea, and the sight of James and Lily agreeing on something, but agreed to it speedily before shooing them out of her office, a little tearily. Within a week, the support groups were up and running and James took none of the credit for it, though it had been a brilliant idea. That was one of the cataclysmic moments between the two of them, that pushed them towards friendship last year. And though Lily’s friends teased her about it in the beginning and the school buzzed at the sight of Lily and James eating breakfast together in the Great Hall occasionally, it soon became normal to see the two of them together with a combination of their friends or by themselves. And Lily was glad that the speculation had died down and they were left to their own devices in terms of figuring out this new and budding friendship between them. Though the rumors started again briefly when they had both showed up at Platform 9 ¾ with Head Boy and Girl badges, the school moved on to more titillating gossip soon enough. Lily would be lying if she didn’t admit that initially she had some misgivings about James’ new appointment as a rule-maker as opposed to a rule-breaker. She was especially unsure where it concerned Sirius Black, who was dangerously inspired whenever he was bored, something that happened all too often for comfort. As the school year approached, she felt nervous that whatever fragile bonds had begun to form between them would be ruined by Potter’s inability to keep his mischievousness in line, but James came back to the school a changed person.

Lily never knew what turned the switch in James, but ever since their first Head’s meeting on the Hogwarts Express, she sensed immediately the seriousness about him. People at school had all sorts of theories, but Lily suspected that it had to do with the War. Goodness knows she’d changed since fifth year as things quickly went downhill and everyone examined where their own values and loyalties lay. And though she was increasingly curious about the smallest things when it came to James, she wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. James had almost put more work than herself into Head Duties, and Lily wasn’t about to push too much into James’ newfound vulnerability and mess that up.

Lily leaned her head back against the rough stone behind her, closing her eyes as another rumble of thunder reverberated through the windowpane next to her. She wrapped her hands more tightly around her warm tea, and tried to push all of these introspective examinations aside.

“You mind if I sit with you?” a voice interrupted her blissful connection to the thunderstorm. Lily already recognized that voice before she opened her eyes. James stood before her, his hair tousled as usual, his glasses sliding down his nose and looking more put together than usual, though his hazel eyes betrayed how exhausted he truly was. That James Potter was good at putting up a front, Lily knew. He always had been.

“I was in the middle of something, Potter.”

“I know. You were enjoying the thunderstorm in your spot as usual. I’m not trying to make you be sociable. I just also want to enjoy the thunderstorm and all of the window seats are taken by people who look like they’re in the middle of something or would blather to me. I’d rather sit in the quiet.” Lily scanned his face. He was being earnest, empty-handed and even more tired than he had appeared at first glance. Lily considered it briefly. She really wanted to enjoy the thunderstorm alone, but it seemed that James would stay quiet just as he seemed to know that she loved to curl up and watch thunderstorms at Hogwarts, a fact that she didn’t think was that apparent, but must have been for Potter to pick it up.

She made up her mind. “You can sit with me, but if you disrupt my vibe, I will kick you out.” James put up his hands, as if acquiescing and sat on the seat next to her, his back on the opposite wall, and put his feet up, his long legs stretching so that his feet were close to her own waist. He remained quiet, but his eyes examined her intensely, and Lily felt like she was missing a vital piece of information. It only lasted a moment, because he quickly turned his attention from her to the thunderstorm.

Lily found it a little hard at first to forget that James was beside her and just enjoy the rain hitting the window. Though James wasn’t being distracting on purpose, he was nevertheless distracting. Lily’s eyes kept sneaking to his face, wondering what he was thinking and why he chose to spend his precious time sitting in silence with her rather than with his friends, who would no doubt put him in a better mood, help him forget his stress and exhaustion. His profile seemed to belong on an ancient coin, strong with a clear jawline and a delicate nose. The lighting flashes illuminated his features briefly enough for Lily to admire the way that his glasses were framed by expressive eyebrows. It seemed only yesterday that James was a slightly chubby boy with a penchant for trouble, and now for the first time, Lily realized that it was a mansitting across from her, with eyes set towards the future and a 5 o’clock shadow.

There was something about his presence that thrilled her. Whether it was the slight scent of parchment and the outdoors that Lily always associated with James, or the fact that they were spending time together without talking about the million things that they had to do, it was nice to just be with James. She felt herself relaxing, and less distracted by his presence once she stopped examining it’s meaning and let herself lean into it. It was admittedly nice to face the rage of nature with someone next to her. She lost track of time as she steadily worked her way through her mug of tea and let the pitter patter of rain lull her soul back into a more settled and peacefully restored state.

Eventually the thunderstorm calmed to a light rain, the dark and ominous clouds giving way to smaller clouds and the occasional glimpse of the silvery moon, reflecting on the Lake and the glowing windows of the castle. Lily felt herself on the edge of something infinite, a hope blooming in her chest at the beauty that lay before her. Something deep within herself believed that everything would turn out okay, that she would be okay. She turned to James in this moment of surety, wanting to share in this secret depth she had discovered. James’ head was tilted back, and his eyes were closed. He had fallen asleep. Lily had no idea how long they’d been there, or how long he had been asleep.

She took him in. She didn’t think that she had ever seen James Potter asleep, but she also couldn’t remember ever registering it as anything noteworthy. His face was relaxed in a way she had never seen it before. He usually had a grin playing around his mouth or a twinkle in his eye. Even as the War progressed and he seemed increasingly serious and tired, he had always had an electric aura around him; he was always in motion, always so alive. It was odd to see him like this, unguarded, vulnerable, still. It left Lily feeling slightly unsettled, like at any moment he would pop up and pretend it had all been a prank. Still, she couldn’t help but study him even more intently, noting that he had a nicely shaped mouth, and that he had unusually long eyelashes. His tie was askew, and his shirtsleeves rolled up so that she could see his darkly muscled forearms and his nimble fingers seemed unbelievably immobile. He must have been quite exhausted to just conk out like that. Lily’s eyes snapped back to his face, noting the tiredness around his eyes and was surprised to feel a softening in her heart.

She inched closer to him, and before she knew what she was doing, she pushed his hair back from his forehead, tenderly. She drew her hand back quickly, as if burned. What was she doing?This was James Potter, for Godric’s sake. She quickly checked around the Common Room to see if anyone saw, but it was mostly deserted. Those who remained were too absorbed in their schoolwork to notice what had happened, with only the goal of reaching their bed lingering in their minds.

Lily turned her attention back to James. Was it possible that along the way she had started to harbor feelings for this incredibly complex mix of man and prankster? That would be incredibly ironic considering how long he had chased her and how adamantly dead-set she was against his romantic inclinations. Lily had always thought that James had pursued her more out of an understanding of how annoying it had been to her, rather than any sort of real feeling that might have been there. And she had never questioned that line of reasoning until now. What would they be like as a couple? They worked well as a team, of that there was no doubt. And both of them had come a long way since Fifth Year. James had grown into responsibilities and his shoulders. Lily had grown out of girlish fantasies of Snape’s loyalties and wonder at the Wizarding World. So the thought remained – what if?

Lily shook herself. There was no need to read love stories into completely mundane storylines, she reminded herself sternly. You don’t even know if he was being sincere, she told herself. Besides, you like him better since he has fallen out of love with you. Still, the question had been asked, and if Lily hated anything it was not knowing the answer to a question. Taking ahold of herself sternly, she told herself that this was a result of spending too much time daydreaming with the rain, James’ presence, and lack of sleep. There was no use in continuing that train of thought.

“I can practically hear the wheels in your head turning,” James’ said sardonically, causing Lily to jump in surprise and drop her empty mug with a clunk. Thankfully it did not break, but that didn’t stop Lily from sending James a dirty look. She said nothing, however, suddenly at a loss for words, embarrassed at being caught thinking of James by that very person. “I get it. Thunderstorms always make me think too much.” James looked out over the grounds, and Lily found herself curious. She’d never thought of James as the pensive kind.

“What do you think about?”

James glanced at her, somewhat surprised and also calculating. Lily tried to communicate with her eyes that she seriously wanted to know and that she was not digging for information to use as fodder for later teasing. “Well, there isn’t a shortage of things to think about. Mostly about the War, what I’m going to do after school, worrying about my family and the like.” He said it almost nonchalantly, but Lily saw the underlying nervousness in his fidgeting hands and the way he was studiously looking away from her.

“I know what you mean. It seems like I have a lot of dark thoughts lately, and thunderstorms are perfect times for wallowing in the nebulousness of the future and your own mind.”

James laughed, “That’s very poetic of you, Lily.” Lily blushed at the use of her first name, though she couldn’t name why. A silence fell between them. It was companiable, but Lily still found herself searching for something to say that wouldn’t betray her thoughts a few moments earlier. “Do you worry about your family? It must be hard being here and knowing what’s happening to Muggleborns and feel kind of powerless.”

Lily looked at James in surprise. “What makes you think that?”

“I’m not heartless, Lily. Besides, I worry about my own family, and they’re Purebloods. So I can only imagine that it’s difficult for you too. If you don’t want to talk about it I get it, but I figured I’d ask.”

“My family doesn’t know what’s going on. I haven’t told them anything because I don’t want them to worry. I keep telling myself that it shouldn’t matter, because You-Know-Who doesn’t even know who I am or who my family is, but of course I still worry and I feel guilty for not telling them, for not warning them. At the same time I want to shield them, and I feel like they’d not want me at Hogwarts if they knew the truth of it.” She met James’ eyes, and felt she saw a glimmer of understanding pass between them.

“Even though Hogwarts is the safest place to be.” James added nodding sagely. “That’s hard Lils. But I feel like you’re making the right call. Even if you tell them, there’s nothing that they could do, and it might be better if they don’t know. Would make them less of targets.”

“It is nice when I go home, and don’t have to hear about the war for a few weeks,” Lily admitted. “But aren’t you worried about your parents? They’ve been pretty outspoken against You-Know-Who. They do probably have targets on their backs.”

“They would have anyway,” James said grimly. They’ve been working in the ministry towards better relationships with the Muggles for over twenty years now. Either way it’s clear they’re not on his side, and my dad says he reckons he’d rather be killed because he did something worth dying for.” James’ voice cracked a little over this last part, but both of them knew that it was true, recognized the power behind his words.

“So, what do you want to do after Hogwarts?” Lily asked, trying to steer the conversation to less emotionally fraught subjects. She found herself surprised that she didn’t already know what James wanted to do after school. But then again, they had never really talked about the future, and their friendship, though solid, seemed to center more around school and mutual friends rather than deep and emotional windowseat confessions. Though that appeared to be changing.

“Well, I always wanted to be a professional Quidditch player.” James said lightly.

“No surprise there. Heavens knows you are certainly good enough.”

“Why Evans, I had no idea that you paid such close attention to my Quidditch skills.”

“They are a little hard to miss, Potter.”

“Well, as flattering as that is, I think I’m going to be an Auror. With things going the way they are, the Ministry needs all the help it can get, and in all honesty I agree with my dad. Might as well be killed fighting than killed in the crossfire. There are more things at stake here than the Quidditch World Cup.”

Lily knew he was trying to be light about mentioning his possible death, but the very thought of James Potter fighting and dying in this war, well, Lily wasn’t quite sure what the feelings stirring inside of her meant. “Every time I think about what happens after school, I just see the reality of war tearing us all apart. This time next year, some of us could already be dead. There are people dying right now, and it seems so helpless to just be here studying and writing essays when people are giving up their lives.” Lily couldn’t continue. She was fighting back tears.

“Hey, Lily, hey,” James said softly, clasping her hand in his and inching closer. “It’s okay. We all feel a little helpless right now.” James pulled her close, arms around her shoulder, giving her a hug. He didn’t let go, and she didn’t make any move to dislodge him, just buried her head in his chest and let herself feel the despair and stress that had been clawing at her, letting the tears flow out of her at last. Because for some reason she didn’t feel the need to appear strong for James Potter, this brave and beautiful boy who was willing to sacrifice not only his dreams but his life for this war. For people like her. James was murmuring words and stroking her hair and she couldn’t hear what they were, but she appreciated them none the less. As her tears slowed, Lily became increasingly aware of the hardness of James’ chest, the warmth of his skin, the piney scent that surrounded her. She blushed and pulled away, wiping her face with her sleeve. She was aware that she was probably a blotchy mess right now, and she felt a timidity around James that she hadn’t felt for a long time. James watched her, his hazel eyes inscrutable.

“Sorry,” she sniffled. It was hard to keep James’ gaze. “It’s just been a lot recently. I didn’t mean to ruin your night by having you talk about your parents and the war and then cry all over you.”

James smiled softly, a smile that transformed his face. A genuine smile that radiated from his very being, and all of a sudden, Lily felt the timidity leave her, replaced by the soft beating of her heart. “It’s okay Lily. I don’t mind. Like I said we all feel a little helpless right now, and it’s important to be here for each other. But I hope you know that our studying isn’t useless. The better we do here, the more chance we have of fighting back against him, of ending this war.”

Lily smiled. “Thanks James. I know you’re right. I just feel frustrated sometimes. But if you ever need to cry all over me, you know where you can find me at the next thunderstorm.”

They both huffed laughs, and just like that the moment was broken. James stood up, stretching and Lily determinedly did not watch the way his shirt inched up to reveal a chiseled hipbone. He straightened himself up, adjusting his tie and running a hand through his hair as he rolled his neck, moaning at the crick that was starting to form from his ill-advised nap against the castle wall. Lily felt a thousand words rush to her mouth but kept silent. “I should get to bed before I fall asleep in another uncomfortable position. Do try and get some sleep Evans.” 

Lily tried not to be disappointed at the reversion back to their last names. “I will. Goodnight, Potter.” James nodded, and for a moment he looked as if he wanted to say something else, his hazel eyes burning into hers. But then the moment was gone and he was retreating across the Common Room.

Lily watched him leave, feeling a tenderness growing inside her heart. She groaned as she let her head fall back on the wall with a thump. She was fucked. FanFiction - AO3