#has to later remove some arrows from his head

[den-kunn]

Raiden: I've seen this word used many times before... what does "creampie" mean? A special pie of cream?

Den: it's what I'll give you tonight.

Fujin: ...

Liu: ...

Lao: ...

Jin: ...

Kai: ...

Shujinko: ...

Bo Rai' Cho: ...

[dixons-sunshine]

Yielding Isn't My Middle Name—Chapter 1 | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Chapter Summary: You and Daryl went on a run for some supplies when you stumbled across an injured man. While discussing whether or not to help the man with his injuries, something happened that instantly changed things for the two of you.

Genre: Fluff, angst towards the end.

Era: Alexandria, no Negan era.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of being knocked out and drugged.

Word count: 2.3k.

A/n: I'm so excited to get started on this! It's not my usual writing but this is such a cool idea that was requested. Not a lot of things going on in this chapter, but I promise that the next chapter will be better and longer. Anyways, I hope you like this!

The groans of an unsuspecting walker were effectively silenced by the flying of an arrow through its rotting skull. The owner of that very arrow, Daryl Dixon, stepped forward and aggressively removed the object from the monster's skull, blood splattering everywhere, including on the archer's face.

“Fuck,” Daryl cursed, wiping at his face to get rid of the foul smelling black liquid that spattered on his face, but instead of ridding himself of it, the blood instead just smeared across his face. “Fuckin' dickhead.”

Soft giggles reached Daryl's ears, making a small smile tug at the corners of his lips. Daryl turned around and locked eyes with you, an amused smile painting your beautiful features.

“Wha's so funny?” Daryl questioned, his eyes following your movements as you carefully hoisted yourself over the table that was previously used to block the door.

You shook your head, your smile never leaving your face. “Nothing,” you began, placing your hand in his when he offered it to you. “Just thinking about all my hard work that has gone to waste.”

“Wha' are ya talkin' 'bout?” Daryl asked, helping you jump down from the large object. Even when you were on the ground, the archer's hand remained in yours, a rare occurrence that you treasured greatly.

“Just the fact that I meticulously cleaned you up in the shower earlier this morning, and not even three hours later, you're already dirty again,” you explained, playfully bumping your hip against his. “I don't think there's ever been a time when you were clean for more than a day.”

“S'wha' ya signed up fer when ya agreed to marry me, sunshine,” Daryl began playfully, eyeing the ring on your finger fondly. “In sickness and in health. In cleanliness and in filth.”

“That's not how it goes,” you laughed, rolling your eyes.

“S'how I remember it.”

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head in mock annoyance. “Let's just get the supplies and get home. I'm hungry and Carol promised she'd make that lasagna of hers for me.”

Daryl chuckled. “Told ya tha' ya should'a stayed home,” he began, holding his crossbow up as the two of you entered a different room of the small store Eugene had found on one of his maps. “Ya've been feelin' sick lately. Ain't managed to keep any food down fer a while now. Ya should rest, take tha' medicine Denise gave ya.”

You laughed nervously and let your hand drift down to your stomach once you were sure your husband wasn't looking, slightly rubbing your hand over the nonexistent baby bump—a bump that soon wouldn't be nonexistent. A bump that would change everything for you and Daryl. Something you had yet to tell your husband of, too nervous about his reaction to even approach the topic at all.

You knew you shouldn't have kept something like that from the man you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. The life that was growing inside of you was just as much his as it was yours, and he deserved to know. He deserved to know so that he could choose whether or not he wanted to embark on the journey of parenthood with you. If he didn't want to be a father, you would never make him feel obligated to stay with you and raise a child he didn't want. However, you selfishly wanted to prolong the inevitable discussion of your impending motherhood, wanting instead to enjoy moments like these with the man you loved; moments where you bickered playfully, where it felt like the two of you were the only people in the world.

“Peach?” Daryl questioned, snapping you from your train of thought. “Ya alrigh'?” he finished, looking over at you worriedly. You looked like a deer caught in headlights, and he didn't like that.

You quickly sent him, what you hoped was, a reassuring smile. “I'm fine. Just got a little woozy there for a second.”

“Ya wanna head on back?” Daryl asked quietly, his eyes holding that softness that he reserved only for you. “I can get some things by myself. Ya dun' need to be here.”

You shook your head in denial. “No, I'm fine. I promise. I wanna help you.”

“Peach—”

Before your husband could continue his concerned persuading, a loud crash came from somewhere in the relatively small building. Both you and Daryl spun in the direction of the loud sound, both of you raising your respective weapons—you raising your gun, and Daryl raising his crossbow.

Daryl's eyes flickered back towards you, a cautious glint in his eyes. You were sure your eyes mirrored his apprehension. Without speaking a word, the archer moved forward, his footsteps silent from years of hunting practice. Following closely behind him, the two of you moved towards the one of the only other doors in the whole building. You knew the noise couldn't have come from the fire escape door, so there was only one other option; the one that led down to the basement.

Making sure to keep an eye out for any potential walkers, the two of you carefully walked down the stairs. Daryl made sure to be ahead of you, his need to protect you from any danger overshadowing everything else. If there was danger down there, whether it be from a walker or another human being, he wanted you to be able to flee first. He'd rather die himself than have to lose you.

You heard the injured person long before you saw them. The muffled cries of someone reached your ears instantly when you reached the bottom of the stairs. In the old world, you would've run to the person to help, no questions asked, but the apocalypse hardened you. You couldn't trust anyone, even if they were injured. You just had to be cautious. That was the way of life in the new world.

Daryl raised his crossbow more, steadying the heavy object in his arms. You moved to stand beside your husband, raising both your gun and your flashlight to illuminate the small room. The beam of the flashlight landed on a man, his tear filled brown eyes squinting against the harsh glare of the light. He was gripping his side hardly, but streams of blood still pooled from the open wound.

“Hello?” the man rasped out in a broken whisper. Daryl remained silent, opting instead to keep his weapon trained on the man, obviously making him even more nervous. “I'm not dangerous, I swear.”

“Are you armed?” you questioned, not lowering your gun until you were certain of the safety of your current predicament.

The man slowly nodded. “I have a knife,” he began, unsheathing his knife and sliding it over to the two of you. “And a gun in my bag over there, but it's practically useless. I don't have any bullets for the thing. I came down here hoping to find more, but then I fell and knocked against that shelf over there. That jagged piece of metal stabbed my side.”

“So now yer cryin' on the floor 'bout it?” Daryl questioned gruffly. “Ya couldn't walk it off? Yer the perfect bait fer the walkers righ' now.”

“Daryl,” you addressed him in a low, warning tone. “He's hurt and he hasn't pulled anything on us. He gave us his knife. I don't think we have to be that harsh right now.”

“I dun' trust him,” Daryl grunted, eyeing the man distastefully. “It was too easy. Would ya give yer weapons over to complete strangers tha' easily?”

“I'm right here, you know,” the man groaned out, wincing at the pain in his side.

“Ain't talkin' to ya. Shut up.” Daryl turned back to you, his eyebrows furrowed into a frown. “We can't trust him, Peach.”

You hesitated for a moment, your eyes flickering between the unknown man and your husband. “Can we at least help get him cleaned up and bandaged? He's gonna bleed out if we don't.”

Daryl sighed. “Yer too nice fer yer own good sometimes.”

“I'm gonna choose to see that as a compliment,” you began, a small smile spreading over your face. “Does that mean we can help him?”

“That isn't going to be necessary.”

A loud gunshot echoed through the room, the man you had wanted to help being murdered right in front of your eyes with a single bullet to the head. You gasped and instinctively raised your gun. However, before you could spin around and assess the threat head-on, you felt a harsh blow to the back of your head.

You fell to the floor, black spots coating your vision. A strident pain flooded through you, and you couldn't think clearly anymore. The last thing you remembered was Daryl calling out to you, your husband vigorously thrashing against the hold of your ambushers.

Then everything went black.

You groaned in pain when you awoke. Your head was throbbing painfully, but when you tried to bring your hand up to rub at the pain, you realized you couldn't. Your hands were tightly bound behind your back, and you soon discovered that your legs were in the same predicament. You opened your eyes to scan your surroundings, but just to rub salt into the wound, you found that you couldn't see anything. A coarse material rubbed against your face, and you quickly figured out that you had a bag over your head, successfully obscuring your vision.

All at once, the memories about the events leading up to your predicament rushed back to you. The store, the basement, the man you wanted to help getting murdered, Daryl calling out to you—

You gasped and tried to sit up, worry flooding through you like an unstoppable river. “Daryl?” you frantically called out, your words muffled by the sack over your head. “Daryl?!”

“Y/n?” came the raspy reply from your husband.

You instantly felt relieved. “Daryl, oh my god.” You could feel tears welling up in your eyes, a lump forming in your throat. “You're okay.”

“M'okay,” Daryl replied in a hoarse voice. “Ain't me ya need to worry 'bout. They only drugged me with somethin'. Put a rag up to my mouth tha' made me pass out. They hit ya over the head with a gun. Tha's way worse.”

“I don't think that really matters right now,” you began, a bitter chuckle leaving you. “We need to get out of here.”

“We will,” Daryl confirmed, a sense of sureness in his voice. “I promise I'll get us outta here.”

The vehicle unexpectedly lurched to a stop. You fell back against the metal wall, your head banging against the hard surface, only adding to your already growing pain. You winced and cried out, unwillingly letting a tear slip from your eye.

“Fuck, Y/n!” Daryl called out to you. “I swear, I'll fuckin' kill these—”

Daryl didn't get to finish his threat. The back doors to the vehicle were flung open, the squeaking of the hinges alerting you to that fact. Before you could properly process what was happening, you were abruptly grabbed and pulled out of the vehicle.

You were thrown down to the gravely ground, your captors only doing you one favour, which was to cut the rope that bound your feet together.

You were forced onto your knees, the little rocks painfully digging into your jeans. The sack was ripped off of your head, and you had to shut your eyes against the blinding rays the sun emitted. However, you heard a grunt to your left, making you look over. Your eyes fell on your husband, and you were relieved to note that he didn't seem to have any physical injuries, except for a cut on his cheek.

Daryl looked over to you and his eyes held both worry and anger in them. However, he couldn't say anything, because a man quickly made his presence known.

“Bloody hell, darling,” the man drawled, his British accent thick. “You look like shit. My men really did a number on you.”

You looked up at the man with a glare. You remained silent, eliciting a laugh from the green eyed man. He shook his head and walked over to Daryl, regarding the man with a smirk on his face.

“All you got was a cut?” he tsked. “Your girl over here have to protect you?” He laughed before continuing. “What's your name, soldier?”

Daryl clenched his jaw in anger, his blue eyes glaring daggers at the man who seemed to be in charge. He refused to break, refused to give the man a sliver of anything that could reveal too much about the two of you.

“Not gonna give me a name?” he asked rhetorically. His smirk widened into a wicked smile. “Okay, then allow me to introduce myself instead.” He extended his arms, as if basking in the sunlight. “I'm Liam Davis, head of the Knights. Welcome to Sunny Meadows, and a new, better life for the two of you. That is, if you do your part, of course. We don't take well to freeloaders. No more life on the road for you. We're here to ensure a better tomorrow for all of us.”

You frowned and glanced over at Daryl, meeting his eyes. Both of you were confused beyond belief, but there was one thing you were deathly certain of:

The two of you were in crap ton of trouble.

©dixons-sunshine 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified, adapted or translated to any other site or platform without evidence of my given consent.

[mncxbe]

Hi! Your acc is so awesome honestly and so cute it makes my heart do the smiley emote :)

My request is chuuya x reader, where reader isn't feeling well but doesn't wanna bother chuuya (not feeling well as in mentally) but reader really wants to cuddle with chuuya, so eventually they cave and call chuuya to ask if they can come over just to cuddle and watch a movie and chuuya is worried if they're ok. Reader reaches and kinda falls into chuuyas arms and they chill and cuddle for the rest of the night <3

Have a heavenly day!

tysm nonnie you're really sweet♡♡ and I absolutely love this idea. I changed it up a slight bit so I hope it's alright and you like it♡

°☆○

I'll bring the coffee if you bring the wine♡

𝑪𝒉𝒖𝒚𝒂 𝒙 𝒇𝒆���!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: fluff♡/ barely proofread sorry in advance for any mistakes

You stared down at the glowing screen, thumb lingering just above the arrow shaped button. Should you actually send the text?

Your boyfriend was probably at home by now so it's not like you'd bother him at work, but you still didn't see it fit to text him so late in the evening. After all, you've only been together for two months and asking him to come over at 10 p.m seemed a little strange; and what if he was out with some friends and you'd mess up his plans?

You took in a deep breath, trying to push these thoughts in the back of your mind. Your day has been more than miserable and all you wanted was to spend some time with your partner. Finally pressing the send button, you set the phone down beside you and turned on the tv, switching from channel to channel in attempt to keep your mind occupied.

Chuuya's reply came through almost instantly. 'Sure, I'll be over in a few. Is everything alright?'. You texted back a quick 'Yea. Just feeling a bit down' before returning your gaze to the tv screen.

Around half an hour later, the light buzz of the electric lock announced Chuuya's arrival. Gathering your remaining strength you got off the couch and tip-toed to the hall to find him taking off his coat.

"Hey baby. You feeling alright?" he asked in his usual gentle voice but you just nodded in response.

You were too mentally exhausted to give him an actual reply, to tell him how burnt out and miserable you felt so you simply reached out your arms and wrapped them around his waist, pressing yourself flush against his chest.

Chuuya immediately returned the hug, one of his gloved hands resting atop your hair as he pulled you closer to him. You closed your eyes, feeling your mind slowly quieting down; the dark thoughts that've been bothering you for days now evaporating into thin air.

You couldn't bring yourself to pull away, not even when he removed his hand from your head and gently cupped your jaw, tilting it up so he could get a glimpse of your face.

"You wanna tell me what's bothering you sweetie, or shall I let you be?"

"I don't really wanna talk about it. I've just had some shitty days and I missed you." you confessed, voice carrying a slight edge that Chuuya didn't miss.

"Alright, how about we go watch a movie then? Sure it's gonna make you feel better."

You made your way to the couch and nestled yourself beside Chuuya, arms wrapped loosely around his waist; his own arm draped over your shoulder, bringing you closer to his chest as he took off his gloves to run his fingers through your hair. Sighing softly, you leaned into his touch, allowing him to coax the summertime sadness out of you with each gentle caress.

You could feel his hot breath against your temple, his lips peppering your face with feathery kisses and you couldn't help but smile; you were melting into his arms like candle wax.

"Feeling better babe?" he asked after a few minutes.

"Way better. Thank you Chuu" you beamed, briefly pressing your lips to his. He gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze before returning his attention to the movie you ended up watching, and old picture film about a girl in New York City.

The warmth and comfort of his embrace lulled you into a dreamy langour, eyes heavy with sweet, powdery stardust. Chuuya felt you slowly relax into his arms and smiled, heat blooming in his chest. He watched you slowly close your eyes and remained motionless until the end of the movie when he slowly reached for the remote.

Feeling the sudden motion you groaned, eyes fluttering open as you tugged lightly at his shirt.

"Don't leave yet" you mumbled and he couldn't help but chuckle; your sleepy face was the prettiest thing he's ever laid eyes upon.

He switched off the tv and pulled your head back on his chest, savouring your presence and the quietude of your apartment, dimly lit only by the glow of the city.

"Don't worry dear. I'm not going anywhere"

[delicatebluebirdruins]

George: "Watch out, If you're not careful it can be (a slippery slope)..."

Lockwood: You shouldn't have said that. About what listening can do.

George: Someone has to. She got way to close to Annabel and listeners... can burn out. And we need to look after, She's good, and she's finally starting to get me.

Lockwood: "She's a lot tougher than you think."

book 268

George: "Yeah, but we need to keep an eye on her. Out in the field I mean"

Lockwood: "She's stronger than you think. Don't underestimate her."

Lucy to herself "Holly, always Holly"

It could be them talking about Holly but it is more likely them to be talking about Lucy and Lockwood's faith in her and George being concerned. Then I got to thinking in the luxury that is the show (even with as few episodes we got... we should have got 13) we get to see other perspectives especially Lockwood's (his entering Jessica's room to get the necklace) especially the conversation between the two in episode three about Lucy connecting with Annabel so closely. Then later on in the book series connecting with other ghosts making assumptions on some like Little Tom being a child and not an ironic nickname which we later learned is the case and you know dangling over the edge of the staircase and Lockwood's leap to get the ghost away from her (imagine if some agents fought ghosts with arrows?) and then "I didn't think he was still angry. I'd somehow have preferred it if he had been. He just appeared to have removed himself from me, cloaked himself in the old detachment that had never really gone away. He was always scrupulously polite, made bland enquiries into how I was getting on. Otherwise he ignored me." Lockwood realised something there probably and he got scared of Lucy (what she is capable of) and for Lucy (how she is acting)

With Lucy seeing his head wound as a "sign of my incompetence and failure, and the sight of it pierced my heart" and her annoyance that yeah she messed up but she also didn't deserved Lockwood locking "himself away, as if behind iron barricades, and utterly shut me out."

Lucy is mad at Lockwood for bottling things up but she is doing the same but hiding it badly (George called her on it page 221 just before she read the article) and her anger at Lockwood retreating inside himself again leads her to reading the newspaper article (also I read this thing about Lockwood & Co and I already had a beg to differ moment at their critique of the newspaper articles wording with small addition here I wonder if Lockwood read it and it added to his *gestures* everything) exploring the room and getting the echo of Jessica's death and then back to shoving everything in a drawer to get back to later but as we saw this is three books worth of angst then the additional angst of who Lucy is as a person and a character. And it all comes to ahead within the department store 295 Lucy hoping for Holly to fall "into an opened coffin or catacomb or something before the night was out. It didn't have to be a very bad fall just a dusty one. Involving bones." And her meeting that fate herself? and meeting the Fetch in the form of Lockwood? i have no thoughts at this time other then how wonderfully full circle making ends meet

[kusakabesimp]

Heyheyhey I've been thinking about something which I'm not sure has been discussed before, so who better to ask than the number 1 simp with so much knowledge on this lovely man 🙏

Anyway, I was wondering...do you think Kusakabe has a binding vow that involves removing things, not restricted to but also including his clothes. Hear me out-

I've been reading chapter 254 for the umpteenth time and it got me wondering if that's a way he found to activate his Simple Domain, much like Nanami wraps his tie around his hand to activate Overtime. The panel in which he removes his suit jacket shows that he dodged some slashes from Sukuna that made a structure crumble, but the man came out unscathed. The same happened in Shibuya, he had all of his clothes on then some of them poofed out of existence once Panda found him.

Final question: would he have defeated Sukuna if he had opted to throw hands shirtless instead of unleashing Hazy Moon-

Ok don't mind that last one lol thanks for providing such great content and spreading the love for this man, he really deserves it and you make his character even more special with your countless contributions, thank you and keep at it ❤️

Hi, Anon! TYSM for your question and also for your kind words. I'm so happy that you and others are enjoying my content. 🍭🍭 That means the world to me!!

You bring up so many good Kusa topics, and I'm so excited to talk about all of them!! Let's start with your question about the binding vow and then move on to the portion about his jacket, where I'll analyze that entire section of the fight. (bless my friend @jjk-eugie who has to put up with this level of my Kusa analysis literally every day)

First question: Binding Vows. Kusakabe's Simple Domain does not have any type of binding vow. Gojo confirms this in Ch 254. "Kusakabe does it without a binding vow and with a super-wide range." Most sorcerers need one for SD, but Atsuya's skill level is far beyond anyone who can use Simple Domain.

Canonically, Simple Domain has different rules and applications depending on who is casting it and who or what is affected by it. Kusakabe's is multi-functional, and he tailors its use to suit specific situations. It can be used offensively or defensively, either on its own or in conjunction with New Shadow Style sword drawing, to achieve various boosts and effects.

But wait — THERE'S EVEN MORE! Like, a lot more! >>click if you want more Kusa insanity<<

OK! Moving on to your question about the jacket. So, while it's not any sort of binding vow, the trenchcoat, and later the suit jacket, play a crucial role in his fighting technique. This entire scene beautifully demonstrates Kusakabe's mastery of both martial arts and sorcery.

First, the trenchcoat. I've labeled these panels with letters and directional arrows so the explanations are easier to visualize. Read L to R (yes, I know, it's the opposite of manga, but go with it for this post).

(Left) Atsuya, realizing that his katana is broken, (Right) quickly pulls the trenchcoat down in front of Sukuna's face to conceal the direction of his next attack.

(Left) The trenchcoat is now over Sukuna's face (A), and Atsuya hits him with two strikes - (B) a straight jab and (C) an open-palmed backhand.

(Right) Sukuna throws the jacket aside so he can see (D), but without being able to anticipate the direction, he only manages to partly deflect Kuskabe's hook kick targeted at his head (E). Atsuya is employing a typical martial arts strategy -- when you already have rotational energy from your initial attack (in this case, a punch), you can use that momentum to continue moving in that direction if your opponent tries to move out of range. A kick often follows the punch because the leg has a much longer range.

(Left) Kusakabe pulls his jacket off with his right hand (A) but continues to hold it. At the same time, he makes a gesture (B) with his left hand — this is important!! This specific hand gesture is rooted in ancient Taoism and is sometimes seen in modern Wushu. It is believed to be a way of harnessing energy or chi, whether to achieve inner peace or to gather explosive spiritual power. Essentially, he's gathering cursed energy for his next attack.

(Right) As Kusakabe lands, he moves the jacket across his body to his left hand (C). This serves two purposes. First, it disguises his next move, as his hand is now completely hidden (D). Second, it acts as a feint. Since Kusakabe is right-handed, movement from the left would be unexpected.

(Left) And there's the katana in his left hand!! We see it's imbued with the cursed energy he just gathered. But take a look at his right hand. This open-palmed position is a traditional training technique for balancing and controlling one-handed weapons. Which, at this point, that's what the broken katana is.

(Right) While his left hand channels energy, his right hand moves down the blade towards the tsuba (handguard) for balance and stability.

**More on this further down**

OK, your next question: How did he dodge Sukuna's Dismantle without damage? I'm assuming you meant the panel on the left here. It's because of the specific application of his SD for this situation. At the beginning of the chapter, Atsuya mentions that he can only dodge because he's been relying on his own speed and his ability to anticipate the direction of Sukuna's cursed energy. But activating his SD increases his speed and makes dodging easier (among other things). He can focus better on combat because he can react faster.

So, why did he end up getting slashed protecting Higuruma his husband? Again, it's because of how he applied SD in that particular situation. In Chapter 245, he's using SD to offer defensive support solely to Higuruma -- he told him so specifically. (THEY ARE MARRIED; NO ONE CAN CONVINCE ME OTHERWISE). Kusakabe uses his speed to outpace Sukuna's attack and ensure that Higuruma is within his Simple Domain. Because -- We know from Kusakabe that his SD can nullify a direct hit from Cleave/Dismantle, as well as reduce the damage, but it can't completely neutralize the spell. So he tries to deflect as much as possible, and then ends up taking the brunt of the remaining damage. That's why he gets hurt — he's not attempting to dodge, he's literally throwing himself in front of the attack.

Last question - Bonus! Could he have defeated Sukuna by throwing hands rather than using Hazy Moon? Well, there's a reason why he uses Hazy Moon specifically. In Chapter 251, Yuji attempted to separate Megumi's soul from Sukuna, dealing another blow to his weakened RCT. At this point, Sukuna is expending a lot of CE to keep his heart beating, as Maki pointed out in Chapter 252 (Left.)

At this point in the fight, Kusakabe's best bet is to exploit this weakness, but he has to get close to do that. Hence, the feint with the suit jacket. Unfortunately, Sukuna anticipated it (Right) -- but everything's fine! Totally fine! We don't need to talk about this anymore *heavy sobbing*

I hope that answers your question, Anon! Maybe more than you wanted to know. TYSM for all your love and support! Again, it makes me so happy! 🍭🍭

[the-coffee-fandom]

✨ Nimona Fic Recs ✨

A good handful of Nimona fics I really enjoyed (I especially suggest the bottom three)

As The Rain Continued To Fall (Complete)

Rated G - Hurt/Comfort

Ballister x Ambrousois

It was the middle of the night, and it was dark, and he was Awake.

A night, after the end of the Movie. Ballister, alone with his thoughts.

Ashes Of The Hearth (Incomplete)

Rated T - Hurt/Comfort

Ballister x Ambrosius & Nimona

Nimona knows her power. Knows her limits.

Well, most of them.

Sidewalk Reinventions (Complete)

Rated G - Hurt/Comfort

Ballister & Nimona

Nimona, the Best and Most Renowned Shapeshifter in the World, or: a chronicle of the shapes Nimona takes through the years.

Happiness Found In You (Complete)

Rated G - Fluff

Ballister & Nimona

Here’s some fluff for that sad little man with the baby girl eyes

Following the ending of the movie!!

Not A People (Complete)

Rated G - Hurt/Comfort

Ballister & Nimona

Nimona always has a habit of getting injured during fights but nobody has ever worried about her, that is, until Ballister Boldheart came around.

(I’m) The Monster Under Your Bed (Complete)

Not Rated (G rating content) - Angst With Happy Ending

Ballister x Ambrosius & Nimona

Be it simple curiosity, or something deeper, one day Ballister asks Nimona a question

He's not ready for the answer.

Late At Night (Complete)

Rated G - Hurt/Comfort

Ballister x Ambrosius & Nimona

Nimona is still getting used to Ambrosius, it helps that Ballister loves him very much.

Twenty Seven Thousand Years Of This (Seven More To Go) (Complete)

Rated G - Hurt/Comfort

Mentions of: Panic attacks and PTSD

Ballister & Nimona

“Shhh, stop. Stop, it’s okay,” The voice soothes, now, hands hovering above her head, already formed into the shape of her hair, but doesn’t dare to touch her. “Nimona—listen to me. You’re home. You’re alright.”

Home. Noun. Four letters. Two syllables. But what the fuck does it mean to a girl who’s been a deer and a fish and a shark and a dragon and somehow in the end, despite all of that, nobody at all? What the fuck does it mean to a girl who’s seen the moons change its shape too many times over and brought fire to every valley where her baby feet steps?

or: violent nightmares aren't new to nimona. what's new is the pair of arms that holds her regardless, and a place that normal people call home.

Enough Courage To Trust (Complete)

Rated G - Fluff

Ballister x Ambrosius & Nimona

Nimona and Ambrosius don't really like each other, let alone trust each other. One of those days, they finally get a chance to bond - through kicking ass and having pizza.

Me And The Devil, Walking Side By Side (Complete)

Rated G - Hurt No Comfort

Gloreth & Nimona

On her seventeenth birthday, Gloreth sets out into the forest to finish what she started.

Or, one possibility for how the knights came to be.

Kiss It And Make It Better (Complete)

Rated G - Fluff

Ballister & Nimona

After Ballister removes the arrow from Nimona's leg, she decides she kinda enjoys the attention.

Stick Figure Stones (Complete)

Rated G - Hurt/Comfort

Ballister & Nimona

The first time Ballister came across the well, he was drowning.

Or; I thought "what if Bal found the well" and wrote this in like an hour and a half :>

A Glimpse Of What I Call Home (Complete)

Rated G - Fluff

Ballister & Nimona

Ballister realizes his dream of having a family has already been granted, after a minor slip up from Nimona during casual conversation.

Eight Months Later (Incomplete)

Rated T - Hurt/Comfort (but highlight the hurt)

Mentions of: Su*c*de, Panic Attacks, and PTSD

Ballister x Ambrosius & Nimona

Nimona’s alive. Ballister wants her to know how much people love her. He takes her to her memorial.

It doesn’t go great.

My Glory Is Yours (Complete)

Rated T - Angst With A Happy Ending

Ballister x Ambrosius & Nimona x Gloreth

Eight years after the fateful incident with Nimona, Gloreth makes a wish to fix things by the old well where they met. To her surprise, she finds herself 1000 years in the future.

[darkwingphoenix]

Saraia, Divine of The Ancient

Ey, @loominggaia, I made a Divine OC! Her name's Saraia. Unfortunately, due to my shit drawing skills and broke ass, I cannot provide a drawing, but I will provide some ideas for what she looks like:

Mix Skylie and Cyana of Evangeline,

Claire Dearing from the Jurassic Park franchise,

Linde Lumina (Specifically her below outfit),

Lady Nagant from MHA,

And Raiden Shogun from Genshin Impact, but wearing red, and having red hair, you basically have Saraia.

She was a MASSIVE paleontology fan when she was a kid, and she was born in the 4th age, before Evangeline started enslaving fae and gaians, in the Evangeline Kingdom, essentially just before Evangeline started enslaving fae and gaians. She learned photomancy, illusions, elctromancy, pyromancy, telepathy, and a bit of geomancy, because her parents realized she was a prodigy at magic and had a passion for it, and were proud to indulge her passion.

However, her family was at risk of being enslaved when she was about 36 years old, and she sacrificed herself to let the rest of her family escape.

She was... Shocked, to say the least, when she woke up in the ashes of her home village perfectly fine as a divine. She immediately hunted down her family, only to find out her entire family had been enslaved, but killed themselves, when they had accidentally bumped into what would one day become Kelvingyard (This bit is up to your approval, but her family did off themselves at a slaving camp).

She was so stunned, grieving, angry, pissed, confused, and a million other emotions she lashed out violently and destroyed much of the camp before being taken out with an arrow to her head.

She woke up a month or so later and immediately went into hiding to grieve for several decades, before finally deciding to avenge her family by hindering the Evangeline Kingdom anyway she could. She still had a passion for paleontology, however, and decided to remain in hiding and basically do an anime training montage for the next century and a half, perfecting the magic schools she had been before divinity, and even picking up necromancy, telekinesis, and teleportation, before, 95 years into her training, she decided to try her hand at monster forging, making the first of a few monsters she would make, a nigh-immortal monster she would call the Imperatyrannus Rex, the Tyrant Emperor King, or King to her.

King was crafted using parts from many animals, specifically old dinosaur fossils (Or the Looming Gaia equivalent), a small crocodilian similar to the African Dwarf Crocodile (The lad below)

A shrew similar to the Eurasian Short-Tailed Shrew (Which has iron-infused teeth and venomous saliva)

An ape, cuttlefish, tree frog, a siege dragon she managed to stun long enough with a flash of light to use a saw to remove some scales, and some of her own hair to create the ultimate general to help her attack the Evangeline Kingdom by themselves, or with some other monsters she'd later make. The below video basically outlines what King looks like. Yes, his design is basically this video's remake of the I Rex. But with fire breath.

Either way, King was designed to basically be her own personal dragon. However, she designed him so that he wouldn't spawn more of himself without dying first, because if he dies, he has an indestructible egg in his chest she can remove and keep until he hatches from it and grows up again, as a failsafe. She also made him as an egg so she could care for him and at the least get some loyalty from him, if not love, because she knew monsters couldn't feel love.

When King grew up, she managed to get through to him that if he was loyal to her, he'd have all of the glory and fame he wanted, or at least infamy and notoriety, which was basically the same to him. He accepted, and they've been regularly coming out of hiding every decade or so, wreak absolute fucking havoc on Evangeline, then run away before the siege dragons were rolled out.

King is able to kill a siege dragon, and he's killed several over the ages, but Saraia and he don't like to risk getting attacked by multiple at a time, so once he manages to push a siege dragon off of himself, Saraia and he ditch, leaving the smoking ruins of several towns behind them.

She's also made monsters that are basically other kinds of dinosaur hybrids to attack Evangeline when she isn't. All of these monsters, unlike King, can breed and do, and are also seen as dragons to many people, especially those in Evangeline and Folkvar:

The Boulderback (Crucifatops Ankylostegus, the Crooked Roof Impaling Head): Boulderbacks are essentially a Triceratops with Ankylosaurus back armor and club tail, with the club also having spikes like a Stegosaurus' thagomizer. These big guys have an irrational hatred for the color blue, attacking blue colored things constantly. When first made, they'd often try to attack the sky, although this behavior has been bred out, although all other blue things are regularly attacked. Maraia put in this anti-blue provocation as many Evangeline soldiers wear the color. After generations, however, they've become more like hippos, just attacking everything in general. But they still target blue things with extreme hatred. Essentially they're that meme where a person says that people that are blue have done nothing wrong but they're blue.

The Cockatrice (Vindictonychus Carnifex, the Vengeful Butcher Claw): A Raptor like monster, but with a pachycephalosaur-like head (Sorta like a Stygimoloch or Dracorex') as well. These guys naturally live in packs and naturally hunt many kinds of creatures, favoring commoners but being able to sense, and fear, lycanthropes. A single lycanthrope can even cow a group of Cockatrices into submission.

The Swamp Thing (Spinocheirus Putripalus, the Thorn-Handed Swamp Thing): A Deinocheirus-lookin thing with a Spinosaurus-like spine and the claws of a Therizinosaurus, as well as the armor and tail of a Deinosuchus. They walk on their knuckles when on land, but prefer to attack boats and those near the water of the Blue Valley. Most Swamp Things live in swamps, bogs, marshes, and other such places in Noalen, especially in Evangeline territory. They often stink horribly, and migrate between swamps and such to find mates or greener pastures. They have a similar aggression to the color blue as the Impaler does, and are often green with moss, making them hard to see in swamps. They swim fast as all hell in deep enough water to hide most of their body, but can be outrun by a human on land, and almost always ambush their prey when they get too close, or attack boats.

The Peryton (Pteroraptor Maraiensis, Maraia's Winged Thief): A Eudimorphodon with eagle legs, vision, and talons; a siege dragon's fire breath (And the only monster Maraia made with fire breath other than King); a bee's stinger with boomslang venom, and deer antlers that are aerodynamic. Perytons are too weak individually to attack people, but are rarely alone, often making flocks of over 100 at a time. Essentially, they're gullsnatchers, but a third of the size, firebreathing, and the assholery of swans.

All of these monsters, including King, would very likely be deemed Category 4 Monsters by the PPL, although actually killing a Swamp Thing or Impaler if they're alone would certainly be hard to impossible for a alone hunter or a small group. A Cockatrice or Peryton would likely be easier to kill alone, but are in large enough groups they often need a team of hunters to take down a large group.

Notably, all 4 species are calm or even outright docile to the color red, only fighting red-colored things in self defense. They also show no particular attitude to other monsters, attacking them in self defense or, in the case of Cockatrices and Perytons, and sometimes Swamp Things, as a meal. They also show total docility to nymphs, even defending nymphs from attackers. Fae and gaians are also ignored, even if they have blue on them. Ogres, bizarrely, also count under this neutrality, and many ogre tribes in Evangeline territory are able to keep and raise some of these monsters, especially Cockatrices and Perytons but sometimes Boulderbacks and Swamp Things as well, using them as defense. Some ogres villages even give some to Folkvar or to gaian and fae villages in Evangeline for defense or use against Evangeline. They have yet to actually turn the tide in the Folkvar-Evangeline War, however, but do make handy war machines, particularly Boulderbacks.

This docility towards the color red, fae, and gaians, was an initial glitch-made-feature in the first group of Boulderbacks Saraia never intended for but decided to keep in, even intentionally making it occur in the other species. After all, she was mostly wanting the monsters to target Evangelite soldiers, but having them ignore fae, gaians, and the color red wasn't a bad idea, as fae and gaians weren't gonna be soldiers anyway and she highly doubts that Evangeline would swap its color scheme.

Nowadays, she usually dicks around in an apartment she got in Folkvar, King not far away, usually enjoying the latest articles on paleontology, the latest tea in Evangeline, or adventuring the world to paleontological sites to help digs.

Her reputation is... Mixed, to say the least. She and King seen as an absolute villain in Evangeline, and they're even a sort of boogeyman and stories of her attacks are told to children to keep them in line. However, they helped the early Folkvar Kingdom's first settlers escape Evangeline territory with the aid of Saraia's other monsters, who she can control effortlessly due to them being born loyal to her before all else, and are thus seen as heroes there. She can often get an audience with the ruler of Folkvar with very little issue, as they're always happy to host the Hero of Folkvar. Most other kingdoms have a hit-or-miss attitude to them: She isn't allowed into Etios as she's a fae, but Hethor has once gone to Folkvar and told her she's revered as a hero to many Etiosians for helping gaians, but she still isn't allowed in as she's a fae. They're also seen as a hero for the fae and gaians in Mogdir, basically neutral in the Seelie and Unseelie Courts, Matuzu, and generally disreputable in Damijana and the Zareen Empire. She's actually hated in Lamai as she essentially "played god" by basically making dragons, and Yerim-Mor sees her as annoying at best, a villain at worst, as some of her monsters have managed to migrate to Yerim-Mor, where they serve as yet another nuisance. The World Athenaum also sees her as a dumbass for making four kinds of highly dangerous monsters, which they have to clean up now.

A hobby she picked up after making King was crafting masks designed to look like the High King of Evangeline, then within the first year or two of their rule, she makes a piercing attack to Evangeline Capital to personally attack it with King and meet the High King personally, demanding they abolish slavery or she will keep attacking Evangeline. So far she's had no dice, if you couldn't tell.

When Jarek got his ass Looney Tunes'd by a gargoyle and Indiga became the High Queen, Maraia was shocked, to say the least, but made her entrance anyway, albeit a bit late as she had to make a fresh mask for Indiga, and after she returned to Folkvar, she finished the Jarek mask, as she decided she might as well finish the mask to keep her mask collection accurate to the kings of Evangeline. These masks have actually been copied by Maraia and the collection given to the ruler of Folkvar, each new ruler getting any new ruler masks upon coronation should they coincide with a new High King. Otherwise, it's her birthday present. Obviously, the last time Gultopp got an authentic Maraia mask was when Indiga ascended the throne, along with a Jarek mask. Maraia basically considers herself a full-blooded Folkvaran at this point, and often wears red.

She's also the only person outside of the Folkvar royals who knows of Sygbarne, but keeps her trap shut because her mother didn't raise no snitch. She does, however, help Blomi in subtle ways.

I'd say that if she heard of what Lazuline's doing in my fic on AO3, she would very subtly help, likely by delivering a lotta paper or ink to the Evangeline Castle as a present for Lazuline under her nom de plume when she writes for paleontology papers, S. Aria.

As for how other divines see her, she might as well not exist to any of them except for Cerno, Mankind's Disgrace, and Karenza. She and Cerno don't meet a lot, but they both share a camaderie for making monsters that are a massive pain to Evangeline. Mankind's Disgrace likes the suffering her monsters make and even managed to tame a few Boulderbacks and Cockatrices for his personal use, although she doesn't really like her monsters being used by him but doesn't bug him. Karenza dislikes her monsters as they murder innocents with no remorse, but ultimately feels sorry for her losses that made her snap.

[sarawritestories]

You Found Me

Harry Wells x Fem Reader Feat Oliver Queen

Alright @yetanotherwells hopefully the tag works!

A/N: Ever since the Arrow episode of season 9 aired, this story has been in my head, not wanting to leave, and i wanted to share. That being said: SPOILERS FOR SEASON 9 READ AT YOUR OWN RISK! Also, this is my first story im sharing on here, and i would greatly appreciate any feedback!

Content Warning ⚠️: brief talk of grief, little bit of angst, and a whole lot of fluff

Summary: With the return of Oliver Queen, Y/N begins to think of all the other people who she lost at the hands of crisis. Oliver then gives her a precious gift before he has to leave.

The West-Allen household was set ablaze with chatter, laughter, and clinking of drinks to celebrate the return of Oliver Queen, even if it's a temporary return. Barry was out making sure that Ramsey got to Iron Heights with no problems. Y/N sat by the fireplace observing the joy and happiness of all her friends, especially Oliver.

She was elated to see her oldest friend. Though with every happy memory and joyous moment she had that night, a somber thought or memory would take its place. She began to fall deeper in her thoughts, spinning the diamond ring on her finger, her mind trailed to the Grumpy Scientist that put it on said finger.

"I know that look," Oliver's voice pulled her out of her thoughts as he took a seat next to her. "Where did you go?"

Y/N gave a small smile, "I'm happy to see you, Ollie, I've missed you."

Olivrr reciprocated the smile and nudged her shoulder with his, "I've been keeping an eye on you, so much so, I want to thank you." Y/N furrowed her brows, and his smile wavered only for a moment. "For keeping Felicity company and taking care of her. I miss you both often, but affection is not going to make me forget my question." He grabbed her hand, "Talk to me, Y/N."

She released a sigh, "Good to know you're still insufferable." They both laughed, "i am happy you're here. It's just when i see you that i can't help but think of all the other people i lost due to crisis." She glanced down to her wedding rings, tears pooling in her eyes.

Oliver followed her gaze and gave a nod of understanding, "Harry," she nodded as Oliver pulled her into an embrace. Tears began to streak Y/N's cheeks.

"Ollie, every day feels like my heart has a hole that keeps growing that might swallow me whole." She sniffled, "I never even got to say goodbye to him."

Oliver rubbed soothing circles with his thumb to comfort his grieving friend. Then, an idea struck him. He pulled away from the embrace as Y/N wiped her tears from her face. "I've interfered plenty with the multiverse tonight, but i have one more thing to do," he rose to his feet.

Y/N gave him a confused look, "What does that mean?"

Oliver held out his hand that she took cautiously. He pulled her close and whispered in her ear, causing her eyes to widen. He pulled away, still holding her hand, "That's all i can tell you, unfortunately, but maybe this could bring you some peace."

Excitement and nerves bubbled over as she gave the former vigilante a kiss on the cheek, "Thank you, Oliver, Im going to miss you!"

Oliver smiled as Y/N made her way toward the exit, "I'll miss you too, Y/N."

~2 hours later~

The breach opened, and Y/N stepped out onto the parking lot. Though the place was familiar, there were parts that were new to her. As she faced the building of the parking lot she was standing in, she gasped. Wasting no time, she ran into Earth 2's S.T.A.R Labs.

Walking in, she became overwhelmed with senses. The most potent being the familiar smell of him. A rush of memories hit her, the first time they met in the cortex at Earth 1, their first kiss, their first date. Before she drowned in the sea of memories, she pressed forward toward the elevator.

Y/N pulse began to beat rapidly as she approached the second level. She smoothed out her knee-length dress to remove some of the persperation on her hands. The doors opened, and the office was just how she left it. Everything looked in place and the same.

Cautiously, she walked up to his desk, papers with his handwriting cluttered the desk. She grabbed the frame that was on his desk. Fresh tears blurred her vision of her, and Jessie kissing both of his cheeks in front of a christmas tree from the West Christmas party. "I miss you so much, Harry," she put the picture back on the desk.

"I've missed you too, Princess." The familiar voice caused the young hero to straighten her spine. She turned around, and her eyes met Harry's crystal blue ones.

"Harrison," Y/N whispered under her breath, a rare moment where she called him by his full name. His hair was shorter, clean shaven at the sides with his curls up top, and he was in a suit with a full smile on his face. He was even more handsome than she remembered.

He rubbed his hands together nervously. "I know you may have a lot of-" he couldn't finish the sentence as she leaped into his arms, burying her face in his neck. Harry returned her embrace his hand held the back of her head.

"You're real," she whispered.

He chuckled, "I'm real, Princess," he pulled away to face her again and brushed a loose strand of hair from her face.

"I don't know how this is possible. I knew that the multiverse was being restored, but I didn't think that it would restore the people." She stepped out of his grasp and was speaking a million words per minute. "What about your intelligence did that come back? What about the council? Jessie?"

Harry stepped in front of his wife and cupped her face in his hands, "Y/N, can I kiss my wife now?"

Y/N smiled and nodded. Harry pressed his lips on hers. He tilted her head to deepen the kiss. After a few moments, they separated for air, and he grabbed her hand and led her to the balcony. "Tell me something, how did you know where to find me?" He wrapped his arms around her and pressed her back against his front as the sun began to set.

In the distance, Y/N saw a hooded figure in green, who gave her a nod before disappearing. "I had some help from an old friend." Harry kissed the top of her head as they watched the sunset on Earth-2.

[ferociouslycreativemystery]

I just finished the Button House Archives and it's SPECTACULAR. Here are some personal highlights:

I love Alison's additions and comments in lots of places. She is fighting tooth and nail to stay on those hinges, and we love to see a character with spunk!

Mick's facial reconstruction could be the most horrifying thing I have *ever* seen

Mary's bits are some of my absolute favourites. Her speaking/writing voice is just delicious

Pat was just a terrible group leader wasn't he XD the arrow was really just a matter of time. He should have gone orienteering with them first, then he might have lost the kids before they could kill him

HAH I unwittingly picked Kitty's "character quote" to use in my video edit :P I feel validated

Thomas with his painfully literal complaints about other people's poems OMG rip bestie you would have loved tumblr (I haven't listened to the audiobook yet but I swear I can hear his "counted them, did you?" through the page)

I really like the way you can glimpse parts of later documents around the edges of earlier ones (like with Pat's folder, where the layers are removed one at a time, p. 22-23, 40-41, etc)

Hang on, just gotta go put on One Night in Bangkok for Robin (wait, now I need to hear him say that out loud)

Cap's munitions requests and personally penned operations with their TERRIBLE hand drawn maps that he keeps sending to actual Southern Command; I am fascinated by your mind sir. I believe he suffers from the same affliction I had in school where a combination of the dunning-cruger effect regarding general knowledge and teachers not talking to you in person about what you write in hand-ins causes you to just sort of assume everything you do is brilliant and that then it simply disappears into an unknowable void, and therefore you feel basically free to confess to murder in writing without ever thinking of the consequences. Embarrassment and second thoughts are very much face-to-face kinds of emotions (as he. ahem. would come to find out). Like, is written communication even real? Did it ever really leave your head?

Also: his war diaries were published? 1) who chose to publish them and 2) did Havers ever come across them by any chance? (plus: love to see a fellow tiny handwriting person. Cheers!)

The hand lettering on everything is so well made!!! I know a little (heavy emphasis on 'little') about palaeography, and the writing styles are recognisably of their eras, if many of the letter forms have indeed been updated to be readable for modern audiences. Compare for example Arthur Pinhoe's writing from 1575 (p. 8-11) with this actual letter from 1547. Also this actual 1700s writing to Kitty's diary entries from 1779 (p. 70-71 etc). (These samples are in Swedish but minus åäö they're all the same letters.) The writing also follows the pattern of older script being generally more rigid and standardised, while the closer to present day we get the more individual the handwriting becomes, which is a great opportunity for additional characterisation—which has also been very well implemented I think. I'm devouring every page of this, line by line!

REST IN BRIEFS (also the sly tail of the 'y' from the Daily Mail title just visible above the only compassionate headline lmao)

The reason I cannot talk to people is that Fanny's etiquette rules on conversing take over my entire mind from the moment I see another person.

Oh Kitty, I am coming to pick you up—you can be my sister instead of Eleanor's. It was nice to read her final entry though; finally the trick backfired and she got something good out of it while Eleanor suffered. Bieetch.

FANNY. SINCERELY. YOU ARE INSANE. I already knew about the letter where she demands reimbursement for the unsunk 7/8 of the Titanic's journey that she was cheated out of, but to SIGN IT OFF WITH "Would be survisor/victim of the RMS Titanic". Unbelievable.

Pat write a legible word challenge

I have a slight suspicion Julian might have had something to do with the designs for the Boys Adventure Club badges...

The "pictures of the ghosts" will make excellent reference photos for the various rooms, I appreciate them very much (should we make a game out of copying them and filling in the ghosts? There is a lot of potential there)

Humphrey, my guy... do you need a hug? (Sorry.)

FLOOR PLANS FLOOR PLANS FLOOR PLANS THANK YOU SO VERY MUCH I WILL TREASURE THESE WITH MY LIFE

Robin's constellations are impeccable I say we officially replace the zodiac with these no more superstition only bum

Julian's final email was really well written; a single page yet it's oozing with character and story

The behind the scenes pictures at the end are heartwarming. I am slightly alarmed at my ability to pinpoint the precise scene in the specific episode many of them are from though... is it maybe time for a break?

No. Never!

[dujour13]

Patching up a wound👀

Thanks for the prompt Romeo 💕 A little Act II moment. Prompts here

---

“Take it easy chief.”

Flat on his back, Siavash opened one eye at that. Woljif was the one panicking. Although, he reflected, maybe he ought to start. Before he passed out.

“Lemme see.”

Siavash removed a bloody hand from the slash wound across his thigh. Damn schir caught him just under the buckler. Keep your shield up, Seelah had told him. Shouldn’t have listened.

“Yeah, that’s bleedin’ a lot. Doesn’t look too good.”

“Ruined my favorite trousers.”

“Uh—” Woljif choked. The green ones with the stripes. The ones the Count had looked at and said “Ah, the brave city defenders leaping into battle without even taking the time to change out of their pajamas.”

“Tell me you have a potion on you.”

Woljif choked again. He’d been hoarding them and selling them off to the foot soldiers. You could get twice what they were worth on the Kenabres market, and he could always talk Ember into looking after his own little scrapes and bruises.

“Drank my last one. Don’t you have a spell?”

Siavash shook his head. He’d squeezed out his last drop of magic when they were ambushed by cultists on the road earlier that day.

“You’re tellin’ me we went scoutin’ without one spell or potion between us?”

“We’re a couple of amateurs, aren’t we?” Siavash chuckled weakly, and then realized what that meant for the Fifth Crusade he was meant to be leading, which wiped the smile off his face almost as quickly.

Woljif mistook this for a grimace of pain and began to panic again. “Hold on, chief—we’ll figure somethin’ out—”

Though the thought flashed through his mind that now might be a really good time to abscond. Sure, they’d taken Vilareth’s Ford but how long would their luck hold out? No—he banished the thought. He wasn’t sure he could find his way back to the camp, let alone the road. City streets had names and landmarks. Trees all looked the bloody same.

Besides, there was more to be milked out of the Fifth Crusade. Not to mention he still owed the chief and it was good to have fr—contacts in high places. He realized his hand was on the chief’s thigh and drew it away.

And then the chief started to unbuckle his belt.

“Um. What—?”

“Help me get my scarf off.”

There was a close-quarters struggle to untie the fringed blue scarf and pull it out from under his waist without budging the wounded leg, during which time some color returned to Woljif’s cheeks.

“Just rip it,” Siavash coughed. Moving had caused a surge of blood and pain.

“Yeah, right. Like in the stories? With my teeth?”

He didn’t have the breath to tell him about the one time Kel Five Knives had taken an arrow to the leg and still managed to lead the Order of the Gate on a merry chase. Later, at camp. That was a good one.

“It don’t work like that.” Woljif stood up and trapped one end of the scarf under his boot so that he could slice through it with his dagger and rip off a long, fringed bandage. This he began wrapping very carefully around the chief’s thigh.

“Tighter. It has to stop the bleeding.”

He grimaced and pulled tighter. Just as he feared, the chief let out a yelp. “S-sorry.”

Between shallow breaths Siavash wheezed, “You’re a man of many talents, Woljif, but I don’t think healing is one of them.”

“Gimme a lock to pick anytime. This ain’t my kinda work.”

Once he was bandaged, or at least as well as could be expected, Woljif gave him a hand up and waited while he bent double, blinking sparks from his vision.

It turned out the chief was just the right height that if Woljif leaned a little he could fit his shoulder into his armpit and help him limp back to camp. It felt strangely intimate. Friendly-like. The chief was in pain but he still laughed when they had to stop and negotiate their way over fallen branches, hopping and clinging to each other. Woljif found he didn’t mind so much that his shoulder was starting to ache, because the chief’s arm around him made him feel a little floaty.

They made it halfway before they stumbled across Lann, who had come looking for them when their absence stretched on longer than was quite normal. He shook his head and sighed.

“Don’t tell me you went scouting without one healing spell or potion between you.”

[kazaanaxtaijiya]

Inuyasha AU Concept

I've had this concept in my head for a while/ever since I finished the game and watched the show sooo I figured I'd throw it out there as an idea or inspiration if anyone is interested — Cyberpunk 2077 AU with the Inuyasha gang 🌃 Hear me out...

The gang are a bunch of mercenaries that work for various clients through a network of fixers to do any kind of job that calls for their specific set of skills, each of them with their own agenda.

Inuyasha is the Leader, of course.

He grew up as a Nomad and worked towards becoming a professional boxer. When the love of his life, Kikyo, is killed, he's framed for her murder and forced into hiding, desperately trying to hunt down her killer.

He eventually finds love again after meeting a med tech, Kagome, who becomes the first recruit of his newly formed merc crew.

His cyberware includes the Sandevistan for super speed and Gorilla arms, allowing him an advantage in hand-to-hand combat. A sword would be great in order to stay true to his character, BUT imo a machine gun seems like it would be a better weapon of choice for him in this universe.

Kagome is the Med Tech of the group, often assisting with the crew's injuries and cyberware issues after a job is complete.

She meets Inuyasha after finding him brutally beaten and treats his wounds, off the record. She later realizes he is the man accused of killing her cousin, Kikyo, and attempts to call the police, only for him to escape.

The next day, Kagome finds herself in danger, a local gang cornering her into a dark alley. To her surprise, Inuyasha shows up and saves her, unable to forget her after she saved him. She has been loyal to him every since, working with him and her Grandmother (see bonus content) to find out who really killed Kikyo. She eventually falls in love with him.

Her cyberware includes the Monowire for long-range attacks (closest thing I could think of compared to her bow & arrow that's part of the Cyberpunk universe). Maybe a cross-bow?

Miroku is the Netrunner of the group, able to hack into any high-tech computer system due to his intelligence and vast amount of knowledge.

As a Street Kid, he grew up to be a con man, running various schemes to support himself. During a particular con, he ends up crossing paths with Inuyasha. They butt heads at first as they both go after the same prize, with Miroku successfully outwitting him during their first of many encounters. But the more they run into each other, the more they grow to understand each other, and he joins Inuyasha's crew.

Due to a mishap while netrunning prior to the crew, Miroku has become more susceptible to Cyberpsychosis due to a virus that is slowly killing him. Despite his best efforts, he is unable to remove the virus or reverse its effects. He has accepted his fate and just tries to make the best of it. However, he soon finds a reason to keep living when he meets the love of his life, Sango.

His cyberware includes the Sandevistan (gives him the speed to keep up with Inuyasha), and he has the Projectile Launch System installed on his right arm, which launches an explosive projectile from the palm of his hand (a nod to the wind tunnel of course).

Sango is the Soldier of the group, being highly trained in combat and probably the most lethal of the team.

She grew up in the Corpo life as a soldier-turned-bodyguard for some of the most dangerous government officials. However, after her family is threatened by the exact people she was sworn to protect, she leaves the life and becomes a solo mercenary in order to find her only living family left – Kohaku.

She is initially hired to kill Inuyasha and his crew, but after realizing they have a common enemy, she decides to join them– eventually falling for her womanizing comrade, Miroku, whom she becomes determined to find a cure for due to his impending death.

Her cyberware includes Mantis blades (a callback to the hidden blades she has), but she mostly relies on her trusty Katana passed down by her father.

Shippo is more of an honorary(?) member of the crew rather than a truly active member – don't panic!

Upon becoming an orphan, he relies on his wit, tricks, and pickpocket-ing skills to survive Night City. On one of his outings, he attempts to pickpocket Inuyasha, who quickly discovers him and threatens to hurt him.

Luckily, Kagome takes sympathy on the little boy and convinces Inuyasha that they should take him in. Despite their disagreements, him and Inuyasha eventually form a brother-like bond – the rest of the crew becoming family as well.

And although he usually doesn't join in on their hired jobs, his pickpocket skills do tend to come in handy sometimes.

BONUS CONTENT:

Kaede is a Fixer who sets up the various contracts that Inuyasha's crew handles (pretty much Wakako Okada from Cyberpunk). Being Kikyo and Kagome's grandmother while also believing Inuyasha is innocent, she heads the search for Kikyo's killer and helps the crew find answers where she can.

Koga is the Leader of the infamous gang Wolf (Tyger) Claws, known for their ruthless and territorial nature. Despite his hatred towards Inuyasha, Koga has a sweet spot for Kagome and often proves to be a resourceful and well-connected ally... when he wants to be.

Kohaku falls victim to Cyberpsychosis and is being controlled by a corrupt corporation. Sango strives to save her little brother and bring down the corporation responsible.

Hachi is Miroku's longtime friend and former con artist partner who will sometimes assist with jobs as the getaway driver when needed.

Naraku is (you guessed it) the CEO of the corrupt corporation that is controlling Kohaku, the man who is responsible for Miroku's virus that's killing him, and the man who murdered Kikyo in a fit of jealousy and rage when she did not love him back.

Parallel to Episode 132: During a job, Sango's cyberware is hacked into, causing her to start attacking her friends. Luckily, due to his Netrunning skills, Miroku is able to save her just as she's about to kill him.

[very-grownup]

Recently, I had cause to contemplate a serious question. It is the sort of question to haunt you at night, one that stumps the greatest minds of our generations; possibly all generations to come.

Which Vinland Saga character is most capable of raising a true alpha warrior elementary school age child?

NULL ARNEIHD

There is nothing that says a woman can't raise an alpha child, except for centuries of effective, logical, and morally superior patriarchal societies, none of which have suffered any demise, leading to our shining mantopia of the present day. But Arnheid is not the mythical woman who can do almost as good a job as the worst man. At best, Arnheid will teach your child how to take a punch.

25) BUG-EYES

We don't know much about Bug-Eyes, except that he let himself be taken as a slave and sold to an old man who refused to call Bug-Eyes by his real name. You don't want your child learning to accept anything but being the dominant party in a capitalist relationship or in the heated realm of name supremacy. When Hunter starts kindergarten, he should know better than to quietly accept demotion to Hunter J.

24) OLMAR

Olmar is the opposite of a capable guiding light for your soft pre-pubescent offspring. He has trouble lifting a sword. He is bad at riding a horse (the monster truck of the pre-industrial age). He grows inferior facial hair. He only kills people by accident. The only reason Olmar ranks higher than Bug-Eyes is he can teach your child the importance of being born into privilege and that as long as they have money, they're guaranteed to be superior to someone.

23) THE EAR

A nickname is acceptable if it relates to a cool physical trait or skill that makes you an essential part of a badass warrior squadron.

But there's nothing cool about ears. That's a nerd's body part.

22) RAGNAR

Ragnar looks like he should be an excellent teacher of alphaness. He can grow facial hair. He's survived the Viking age long enough to grow facial hair and lose head hair (baldness is famously alpha as you shed nature's cossetting helmet). His head is shaped like a bullet (a shape that's as alpha as eagles and penises). But Vinland Saga is pre-bullet. The shape of his head is meaningless.

Also, we know what happens when Ragnar raises a child. You should want better for your little bundle of bones and testosterone.

21) THORS

Thors has so much potential to rank higher. Physically he's the pinnacle of what your child should want to achieve -- tall, bearded, able to withstand being filled with so many arrows -- but philosophically he will only fail your child, at best. If you let Thors take charge of your impressionable youngster, some serious trauma and starvation-based amnesia will be necessary to override unhelpful lessons of pacifism, equality, mercy, and how farming is more rewarding than bashing skulls together until the brains of your enemy coat your hands.

And there's always the risk those beta cuck lessons will re-emerge later in life.

20) WILLIBALD

Willibald is a good intro role model. He's opportunistic, ready to exploit others for his own benefit, and a problem drinker: all great skills for your child to develop on their road to being a true alpha warrior.

Once your child starts learning to read, if they're being taught by Big Government's Woke Academy, they need to be removed from Willibald's influence because he will give them a bible.

19) LEIF

Now, Leif may not look like a great teacher of alphaness, but consider: he's ancient, having survived many sketchy boat travels, he's a successful merchant in a time when you had to put in the work, and he's pretty successful at bartering in exchanges that treat human beings as property. If your child is a physical failure in some way, like maybe they have a vagina or glasses, they should probably learn some lessons from Leif and, since they're soft, don't tell them that's the best they can hope for.

18) PATER

Pater was a slave and through hard work he was able to get all the way up to servant who is in charge of slaves. Pater may not be able to teach your child how to be an alpha, but he does serve as an excellent example of how anyone can pull themselves up by their bootstraps. You don't want your child to disregard that sort of thing completely; what if they need to take advantage of a grading curve one day?

17) EINAR

Einar is a slow learner. He lets family members be killed and his village be pillaged twice! He doesn't start unlocking the potential of hidden berserker rage until he's a slave. He's a powerful man and isn't going to ruin the example of his physical strength with unnecessary literacy or brains, but he never lets himself go full berserker and rip out a man's throat with his teeth. He also lets another man have the woman he likes; he doesn't even make him fight to possess her!

Einar is, at best, the substitute teacher who'll inadvertently show your child a movie The (NOT) Man thinks they're too young and soft to see.

16) FOX AND BADGER

No one wants to hear their child is less an alpha and more a second or third banana to a much cooler child. Fox and Badger can provide helpful guidance in that area and demonstrate that it's important, if you have to be part of a duo, to make up for the other's flaws. For instance, if you can't grow a decent moustache, find a man with a beard, but make sure he's shorter than you and has one of the inferior hair colours. In terms your child may understand: if they're friends with a kid who has a PS5 and they only have a PS4, they need to find a kid with a bad haircut and Nintendo Switch.

15) FLOKI

Sure, he's big and strong and a winner, but you know what Floki ultimately is? A fucking weasel bitch who thinks he's better than he is and prefers taking on people just slightly weaker than he is and engaging in backstabbing and traps.

These are all fine qualities for an aspiring alpha child, but not when your head is going to be used to teach basic geometry. If you child tries to emulate Floki, they're going to find themselves dunked on by a math teacher in high school.

Math teachers are the cucks of the teaching world.

14) KETIL

Like Pater, Ketil is a great mentor-figure if your child is an unpromising lump of human that fills you with shame and concerns about what that bitch Linda was doing while she was pregnant. Ketil is a true self-made man, in that he finds the identity of a much cooler dude and makes it his own. Wealth, security, reputation, facial hair, 50/50 on fucking out failure sons, and choice of enslaved women to fuck. Remember: it doesn't count as weakness if she sees you cry, because she's not a person.

13) THE PHANTOM HEAD OF SWEYN, KING OF DENMARK

In a way, the Phantom Head of Sweyn, King of Denmark, is an excellent guide to the world of alphadom. He's fucked enough to be riddled by so much syphilis, he's a land conquering war king, he's willing to pit his children against each other to determine which is more worthy of being his heir, and instead of showing traditional love, his children must content themselves with the real gift an alpha father can impart: not being murdered, yet. He's tenacious in his desire to continue imparting his wisdom to his younger son, as shown by being a Phantom Head haunting him for years after he's died.

He is just a hallucination of a dead man's severed head, though, and at the end of the day, if you've been raising your child with anything like real grit, they will use the Phantom Head of Sweyn, King of Denmark, as a soccer ball.

And then your child is playing soccer. Ugh.

12) SVERKEL

Sverkel is Ketil's ancient father who persists in living alone on his own patch of land, supporting himself with his own two hands and the hands of slaves, whose hands are his hands. He thinks his son is an idiot and his grandsons are idiots. He only shows begrudging affection to traditionally attractive young women and men who he views as superior to his own family members. He's basically the perfect man to entrust your young child to if you want them to grow up to be a strong, self-sufficient, emotionally closed off survivor.

Unfortunately, in our modern society, the skill of 'just not fucking dying' is only impressive when you're a billionaire or a war criminal, so your 21st century offspring will be as engaged in learning from Sverkel as they are in hearing about grandpa's time in [select age-appropriate American forever war].

11) ATLI AND TORGRIM

Like Fox and Badger, but better. Say, five better. Like Fox and Badger, Atli and Torgrim will teach your child the importance of brotherhood, teamwork, and combining power into a more deadly force. But fivebetter, because instead of a fat-one skinny-one team-up, Atli and Torgrim are true Vikings and ask "What if we were both just jacked blonde dudes with beards?"

On the route to becoming a lone wolf warrior alpha on the playground, make sure your child knows their best ally is someone exactly like them.

10) THORFINN

Entering the top ten, we finally reach series protagonist, Thorfinn. Thorfinn is in an unfortunate position. At one point in his life, he would have been, if not a great teacher, at least a great camp counselor for your child on their journey to sucking the marrow from the bones of those who fall in dodgeball. Once, Thorfinn let nothing stop him in his pursuit of climbing trees, walls, and adult men to end limb and maybe life with his knives and teeth.

Sadly, Thorfinn's life takes a dark turn, and he has cause to remember the lessons of his pacifist father. From atop a mountain of corpses, Thorfinn becomes consumed by guilt and sorrow. As an adult, Thorfinn would rather get punched in the face one hundred times than bite a single finger off a giant.

Unless you want to convince your child that Thorfinn died at sixteen in a cool Viking accident, the best lesson your child can learn with a teacher like Thorfinn is when you pick them up after their first day and whisper, loudly, while pointing in an exaggerated manner: "Don't be like THAT loser, Hunter."

9) CANUTE

Canute ranks higher than Thorfinn because his character arc is constructed in thematic contrast, to wit Canute goes from a soft, scared little baby boy with flowing blonde hair to a scarred king willing to torch entire villages for communication purposes, deny knowledge of old allies, subjugate anyone with assets he needs to strengthen his position, and poison brothers.

It's inspirational, aside from all the Jesus Canute puts in everything.

And a top tier alpha would punch his brother in the throat until he died and not use a sissy long game weapon like poison.

8) GARDAR

Now Gardar, Gardar is a real man. He's big, he has facial hair, we know he's fucked at least once, and he will go on a murder spree to get back what is his, even pushing past the point of death. The only thing you have to watch out for if your child is being taught by Gardar is that they understand murder sprees are best BEFORE enslavement, not after, and that they should never love anyone but themselves so much that it drives them to madness. Too much love for others can make you vulnerable even in your most murdery madness.

7) SWEYN, KING OF DENMARK

All the positive qualities of Sweyn's Decapitated Phantom Head, but with the benefits of a body and limbs. Even the most powerful child will not be able to use him as substitute sports equipment unless they first learn how to break kneecaps.

6) THORGIL

Thorgil is essentially a Viking marine played by peak Hulk Hogan. His muscles have muscles. His beard is blonde and luscious. He's killed many people, will kill more, and is incredibly hype about that killing. He has weird relationships with his family. I have confirmed there is at least one person out there with a workout inspired by Thorgil with the goal of becoming as jacked as Thorgil. He can swim and strategize and will never surrender. He rejects the weak control of fancy hereditary monarchy and embraces rule based on who can crush the most skulls simply by flexing their biceps (it's Thorgil). He's even good at using lesser people for murder-by-proxy.

Perhaps Thorgil's greatest flaw is that he won't be able to teach your child how to maximize their human pawn options.

And numbers. He definitely has a problem with numbers.

5) WULF

Wulf has a name that calls to all children who aspire to standing on a pile of unconscious classmates during recess. He's essentially a Viking gym teacher and Viking gym class has decapitation instead of skipping rope. He doesn't do embarrassing things like showing emotions and he's capable of understanding numbers in the only context where numbers matter (how much you need for successful slaughter of your opposition). He even looks cool. You'd play a guns and grit videogame with a player character who looks like Wulf.

He's kept from being top of the pile because he's a loyal retainer to a weaker man. That's okay, though. Your alpha child should aspire to becoming greater than even the coolest of gym teachers.

4) BJORN

You know what's better than your one cool gym teacher?

That guy, but he does drugs. Not bad drugs that make you introspective, cool drugs that make you even better at murdering. Your alpha child will need to learn one day about the benefits of performance enhancing drugs.

3) SNAKE

If there's one thing we know about alphas, is that they love selective interpretations of characters named Snake and this is another great Snake to add to the list. He's the leader of a band of mercenaries, which means he's a murder entrepreneur. He is stronger and smarter than everyone in his employ, which means he can never be truly challenged. He has a mysterious background, which adds to his cool mystique and is probably something he can impart to your child for playground reputation enhancement. He is literate but uses it to entrench himself in a position of power over others, showing that there are benefits to being able to read. If you spin it correctly, you can even use Snake's generally positive relationship with Sverkel as a way to teach your child the importance of respecting and attending to you, and only you, when you are old and infirm (you will never die or suffer any kind of negative repercussions for the way you live your life).

2) THORKELL

Thorkell is so cool and nearly the perfect teacher for your alpha child. He is easily the strongest man in the history of Vikings. He can use entire trees as battering rams. He is not slowed down or put out when he loses organs or limbs; in fact, he recognizes that injuries are badass and make you more powerful. He is a man who will impart in your child the need to constantly fight and destroy basically anyone who is willing to consider putting up a fight and to always pursue greater challenges. Probably your child's boring, non-Viking teachers have even used the word 'challenge' in some context when you've met with them and whatever they were talking about, you can bet Thorkell will help guide your aspiring muscle golem to destroying that thing. There are only two reasons Thorkell doesn't occupy the top spot on this list. One is that there's no indication he possesses dietary or exercise secrets that will help your child grow to be 8 feet tall.

1) ASKELADD

The other reason is that there's one man in Vinland Saga who has a track record of actually raising an alpha child, even if that child lost his way. Askeladd is all about tough love and killing sources of soft love. He's cunning, ruthless, and can get someone who wants to kill him to work for him for a decade. He knows how to gather important resources to be self-sufficient -- once you pillage, torch, and slaughter an entire village, their resources are your resources, after all. He's well-travelled, ambitious, and will carry a grudge forever, never hesitating to sacrifice weaklings in pursuit of his goals. His hands-off approach raised a malnourished child who hated him into the kind of boy who could run up enemies thrice his size and bite their fingers off. Imagine what Askeladd could achieve with a child eager to learn? /Your/ child won't fall into a pit of numb despair and skeletons that leads them onto the path of peace like some kind of loser.

[endlessly-cursed]

Primrose Gray’s Legacy, Act One: The Younger Years, Chapter Four: The Arrangement

A/N: Finals are finally over and holidays are over the horizon, so this series will get my undivided attention. Expect more of this series after the long radio silence! 

Summary: Primrose’s life takes a drastic change that will mark her youth 

OCs featured: William Devlin ( @unfortunate-arrow​ ) Henry of Alderly ( @gaygryffindorgal​ ) and his family 

OCs mentioned: The Stolberg-Burkes (also Gryff) the Coventries and the Hastings ( @camillejeaneshphm​ ) the Aldens ( @cursed-herbalist​ ) 

Warnings: A bit of classism of the era 

Word Count: 2.2k 

Taglist: @gaygryffindorgal​ @nicos-oc-hell​ @slytherindisaster​ @camillejeaneshphm​ @hphmmatthewluther​ @thatravenpuffwitch​ let me know if you want me to either add you or remove you!! 

1889

Vincent Gray had been invited to a gentlemen-only soiree, and wanting to escape the women’s scheming, he was gladdened to accept. It seemed like finally he was being accepted in high society by his fellow male peers, a bit tired of ambitious mamas.

Especially he was escaping his wife’s machinations. He could still recall their argument later in the morrow.

“Why can’t you see how advantageous this match could be?!” She shouted “Our daughter would be protected and no one would doubt her claim! Maria Elisabeth married a duke herself.”

“Yes, and that duke ruled her and Winbourne! Just like Frederick was the one taken into account while Henriette remained in the shadows.”

Victoria looked at him “What do you have against the Alderlies, exactly?”

“They are Hanoverians, Vicky!” He cried out “You know what happens to their wives! Everybody does!”

“Are you implying that Henry is not enough husband for our girl?”

“Henry’s a good lad. I’m more worried about his parents and close peers. And the fact that they’d likely swallow the estate into theirs and centuries of work would go to the seven hells!”

Victoria raised her hands “What do you suggest, then? Anyone in mind?”

“Yes. Someone who doesn’t have ties or a title to tend. Someone who will not stand in the way of her claim. Perhaps in the Wizarding World.”

Victoria turned back at him and slowly came close to him “I am the viscountess here, and our daughter will marry whom I say, end of the discussion.”

Vincent sighed, rubbing his temples. Then, suddenly, a thump woke him from his trance and saw a rather tipsy Lord Carlisle greeting him “Ah, Lord Vincent, what a surprise!”

“My lord. What brings you here?”

“Well, I’ve heard that you are looking for a groom for your girl. I have a ward her age. Shy, likes drawing and quiet. His name is William.”

Vincent’s eyebrows shot up in amusement “Are you proposing your… ward for my girl?”

He nodded, gulping another drink “You see, I’ve heard, and correct me if I’m wrong, that you wish for your daughter to marry someone who won’t stand in the way of her claim. The boy has no noble ties, no title or a name to tend to. I’m happy to educate him to be her shadow and know his place as her future husband.”

“People will talk.” Vincent remarked.

“And will you listen to what they say, my lord? It could be an advantageous match…”

Vincent observed the man for a minute, taking in everything he said. The rumours were everywhere that he was the boy’s father, and it’d cause some trouble for Primrose, but perhaps, if they were engaged, the people wouldn’t doubt him as much.

“Lord Paul, how about if you come see me this Tuesday at four o’clock so we can discuss this properly?”

He smiled, shaking his hand “I’ll be there.”

“Let us hope you remember.” He joked.

For the next months, Paul and Vincent discussed back-and-forth how their engagement would work.

“…Of course, Primrose will be the head of the house.”

“…It’ll be wise that they have separate bank accounts.”

“…Won’t have any obligations until they’re introduced in society.”

“…Eighteen would be a good age for him to propose.”

“…Must learn in the meantime the history of the Somersets.”

“…In exchange for her hand I can give you…”

Right a few weeks before the boy’s ninth birthday, they had already settled a contract and would meet to sign it properly, everything planned and agreed. But secretly, he had been in the lookout for any other bachelor who’d pop up.

On Victoria’s point of view, not only the Alderlies had proposed their son, the Coventries and the Aldens had proposed their respective sons. Victoria had rejected the second, for he was a bit old for her tastes and had heard that he had already picked his future bride. When the scandal of the only Coventry boy and heir being homosexual came out, Victoria wrote to them rejecting their prospect.

Another families had stepped up, offering their sons that were her age. Vincent had investigated the Greek boy, Adonis, and Victoria had liked the di Napoli boy, Ernest, if she recalled correctly. But Ernest’s family was problematic and the Greek boy didn’t have the qualities he looked for a groom in his daughter, so they were rejected as well.

In the end, he was where he started: with the Devlin boy as the final prospect. Legitimacy controversies aside, they were a good match: he was just as intelligent, knowing French as well, a capital student and in the way of becoming a sportsman. It was definitely better this way, with someone unimportant in the eyes of society so he wouldn’t outshine his girl, the important piece in the chess.

Soon, Paul called proposing a dinner at his estate to see if they’d match after their speculations and also have a celebration for their ninth birthdays, since they were very close in age. He was quick to accept and told Victoria of his intrigues. The response was a Romanian vase being thrown to his head, which he hardly missed.

“YOU ENGAGED MY DAUGHTER TO A BASTARD?! WITHOUT CONSULTING ME?!” She screamed at the top of her lungs. He had never heard her scream like that ever since last year, when she had miscarried their last child.

“I know how it seems, but we must see the bigger picture here—,”

“Oh, and what would that be?!”

“He is a good boy! A good student, intelligent, with no ambition or ties to any sort of state or title, the perfect husband that won’t outshine the important person here: Prim!”

“I don’t see why she shouldn’t marry someone of rank! Or with an actual fortune! Last night the Stolberg-Burkes called. They consider their son a worthy groom of our daughter, and so do I! And it’s never too late for Henry!”

“Please, give the Devlin boy a chance.”

Victoria scoffed “You’ve made your decision. Go on, tell me what the hell have you plotted now.”

He looked down, ready for the shouting “We have signed a contract. We only need your signature.”

Silence. Then, ruffling movement of skirts. Then, another vase was thrown, and he had to duck this time “Victoria, enough!” He cried.

“YOU SIGNED A CONTRACT WITHOUT MY KNOWLEDGE?! WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE TO DO ANYTHING WITH MY HEIR WITHOUT ME?!”

“YOUR HEIR?!”

“YES!” She yelled “MY HEIR, MY HOUSE, MY BLOODLINE.”

He nodded, anger and bitterness building up “And I am just the lucky sperm-man who gave you what you needed to continue it, am I not?”

Victoria realised what she had said, and started to try form a sentence. He didn’t give her a chance. He instead left, slamming the door close. He didn’t hear Victoria’s sobs, but could tell that he’d be sleeping in the guest room.

8th of July, 1889

Victoria had dressed in the Somerset blue and black, while Vincent had dressed the Slytherin green and both seemed distant to one another. Many children had been invited to their joint birthday party. Primrose, thankfully, was a good girl and was happy to share her birthday bash with someone else and make a new friend. They were now speaking to one another in French, and while weary of her presence, he seemed to like her well enough. Primrose, was, of course, intrigued by him and why the sudden interest on a minor noble family. Henry was quick to snatch her to play, and invited William along.

They ran off to the gardens, which weren’t as grand as the ones in Winbourne, but still nice to look at. Lord Paul was, of course, trying to win over Victoria, showering her with compliments and the sort of flattery, but Victoria was as cold as the Antarctica itself, offering cold and calculated smiles and dry ‘thank you’. She glared to her husband from time to time, muttering things about the decoration of choice and how one could tell that the place lacked a woman to take care of things properly.

“I’d be much obliged to tell you all about the bachelorettes who are in the lookout for a… humble husband like yourself, my lord.” She smiled, clearly trying to get a raise out of him, but it seemed that Vincent had warned him. He smiled tightly, raising his glass.

Louise leaned and whispered something about a portrait of the late viscount and Victoria laughed coldly. She looked back at the garden, where Georgia helped Primrose up and observed a quiet William drifting away. She wondered why wasn’t he following probable orders to impress the girl.

“Vicky, dear, have I ever told you about my nephew Caspian Hastings? He is available, a future marquess to the Hastings line and very much a bachelor…”

Primrose had decided to follow the Devlin boy into a hayloft and observed he was drawing something under his shirt, focused on it.

“What are you drawing?” She asked.

The boy looked up and cleared his throat, raising a bit his sketchbook “Nothing. Aimlessly drawing.”

Primrose showed her hands “I understand if you don’t want to show. I know we’ve been introduced, but with all that noise… I’m Lady Primrose Gray of Winbourne.” She extended her hand.

“William Devlin.” He shook her hand.

She sat in front of him, a respectful distance between them “It seems like our fathers wanted us to meet. Do you think he’s fishing for allies?”

“He is… that is, he is not my father, he is my guardian.”

“…Of course, my apologies. What are your theories on this whole soiree?”

1892

There had been several events, and Primrose had seen for herself some suitors from her mother, and had done her best to impress everyone with her piano and harp skills, which she had practised. According to Bea, men were inclined to women who had a good sense of music and who looked pristine and put-together, so she always chose sensible colours for her presentation. The Devlin boy had been invited, but he was not present. Probably sketching somewhere.

Someone went to fetch him. Her father was going to make an announcement. Primrose looked at Henry, and he looked at her too. Perhaps they’ve finally reached an agreement? Everyone looked at her father expectantly, a choking silence filling the room.

“As you know, my wife and I have been looking for a suitable groom for our little treasure, and we like to think we’ve found the perfect man for it. Hence, I have decided to announced the engagement of my daughter, the Lady Primrose… to William Devlin, Lord Carlisle’s ward.”

Her mother said nothing, perhaps bracing herself for something.

“I’m sorry?!” Duchess Louise cried.

“This is outrageous! Victoria, you told us that we were your first priority!” Duke Thomas argued. Henry just sank in his seat.

“Hah! I can think of better men here than that—,”

“THAT’S ENOUGH!” Primrose cried. William, who had been trying to withdraw, had been seized by Primrose’s hand, and she looked defiantly at the adults. She was playing a big gamble, but William did not deserve this “It was my choice,” she declared “my father presented me with all of the candidates and I chose Mr. Devlin. I chose him, not my parents. I understand your anger, but I will not allow you to insult my bridegroom.” She lifted her chin, and William looked at her, bewildered. Everyone sat down, and she swore the duke downed his glass. “From now on, you will speak to him with respect, for my sake and Winbourne’s.”

Henry stood up and lifted his glass “To Lady Primrose and Mr. Devlin, then.” The other candidates soon followed.

As they began whispering, William finally left, taking the chance that her grip had nearly vanished and Primrose followed. She chased him to the gardens. He noticed her and turned around “Why did you do it?”

“They were insulting you, sir. I couldn’t allow it. The choice is made. We will marry when we are older, and it is our duty to look out for the other.”

Something in his face flickered, and his shoulders softened “Thank you. I don’t think anybody has defended me that way before.”

Primrose smiled tightly, and nodded “I will leave you to your own thoughts. You know where to find me.”

Primrose walked to her room, already retiring to bed, when she found her mother there. She looked like she had aged a thousand years. She motioned her to sit with her “What you did today was brave. Not many would’ve defended a boy like him with such fierceness and bravery. But we can put an end to this if you wish. The Stolberg-Burke’s offer still stands…”

“No. I want it to leave it the way Papa has done. Besides, I think that I can finally do something good with my title. I think that his tie to me protects him from rumours.”

Victoria smiled widely and kissed her head soundly “When did my girl become so benevolent and wise?”

Primrose leaned on her mother and didn’t hear Victoria mutter “I will find a way out of this farce. You will marry for love, even if it’s the last thing I achieve, so help me God.”

[vernalloy]

[ID: Four drawings of a redesigned Alastor. He now is broader, with large shoulders and blockier clothes, his coat shortened and the collar fashioned to look like a trophy mount. Below that, he wears a collared shirt with a tie. His hair has been shortened to a Cab Calloway-esque haircut, his ears have been moved down and are more of a deerlike diamond shape, and his antlers are slightly longer. His nose is also wider, and his smile less pronounced. The first image is a rough drawing of this design, lacking the trophy-mount collar, and his hair being slicked straight rather than the waves of the later designs. His eyes are also large, with catlike pupils. Arrows indicate his "thick torso for deer" and "baggy pants to follow 30s," and there are some drawings of his arm, which has a large sleeve but a delicate wrist and fingers. The second is a halfbody shot of him smiling with his arms tucked behind his back and his head tilted. Here, the collar gains the trophy mount shape. On the left, his eyes are closed and his smile is small, about as wide as his nose. On the right, his eyes are open, and his smile is much wider. He has threatening shading. A doodle of the transition between mouths is captioned, "contrast!" The third is another fullbody reference, and has him standing with his feet close together, one hand behind his back and the other with the index finger raised as if he's going to add to a conversation. An arrow indicates at his hand, "delicate fingers contrast with blocky sleeve." Pointing at his neck: "Details guide eye toward face." Pointing at the end of his pant leg: "Flare contrasts little limbs." Beside him is text: "repetition of shapes", accompanied by all his downward curves, stopping at his collar. The final image is a colored version of the third. His skin is light brown, with his ears and shoes being a moderately darker brown. His hair is almost black. His irises are big and black, with a thin ring of red before passing into the eggshell whites of his eyes, a color also present in his shirt. His tie and antlers are similarly also bright red. His coat collar and pants are a dark grey, and his coat is a desaturated cool green. End ID.]

Regular Alastor is such a weird design because he's from the 30s but it doesn't show, he's a deer but his dinky antlers are covered up by his giant triangular fox-esque ears, and his colors are foxy which only adds to the confusion. On top of that, he's mostly red, which makes him hard to parse, especially from the background. He's the Wheatciphler which means negative space is next to zero and he's harder to spot, and he's got all these goddamn pinstripes which makes him harder to animate & ensure there's no negative space at all. His smile is so big but it doesn't change so it's not scary or expressive it just takes up so much real estate that could be put into anything else. He's also mixed-race Creole ALLEGEDLY, likely due to backpedaling over the appropriation controversy but this had like no edits to his design.

He's a garbled mess of red where none of his influences read well and the line mileage on him is insane. So to fix this:

MAKE THAT MAN A DEER (thicken torso, move ears to side, trophy collar)

give him fashion more in-line with the 1930s (shorten coat and hair, big shoulders and sleeves)

re-prioritize his expressive features (smile smaller so that when it's big, it's scary)

Give him Black features (hair & nose get de-white-boy-ified)

recolor, more varied. color contrast is boosted in value and hue

remove patterns (pinstripes ditched)

[persephonesfill]

That Tony finding out CW Steve was the one who ACTUALLY killed his Steve, when this Tony has been convinced he was the killing shot, but no that Steve got away only to encounter Civil Warrior who then came back to this world to check in on how he “fixed” things and found this Tony

😈

(And then they still bang?)

When he arrives to Earth-8350 it's already too late; the civil war is in full swing and the superhero community has torn itself apart.

He doesn't even think when he sees this universe's Steve Rogers hoist that god-forsaken shield above his head, ready to kill. But it's the look of animal terror in Tony's eyes that prods the warrior into acting.

He does only what he can do, the repulsor beam shooting forth from his hands like the vengeful arrow of some wronged god. Apollo striking Achilles in his heel. At the same time, Tony's hands fly up, readying himself for a killing blow that never comes.

He leaves when the screaming starts.

The sound of it still haunts him throughout the multiverse.

He's never visited an Earth again after making things right, nor does he plan to make a habit of it, but Earth-8350 continues to plague his mind. The dead, vacant look in his double's pure blue eyes, Tony's wail, and the scent of blackened flesh.

Earth-8350 calls and the warrior listens.

Tony lives And that's all that matters, he tells himself. He'd kill himself a hundred times before he saw Tony Stark die at his hands again.

"Steve?" a heart achingly familiar voice slurs and the warrior's mask melts, just a fraction. He hasn't been Steve, hasn't been a man, in a long, long time.

"Is that you? Please...please tell me it's you."

It is and it isn't. He is Steve but not this Tony's Steve and that makes all the difference.

This Earth's Tony reaches out to him with bloodshot eyes and whiskey on his breath. "M'not...not dreaming again. You're here. You're real."

Drunken hands scramble at his armor. "Lemme see you. Need to touch you."

The warrior wants to be touched. He wants to be touched with love and tenderness and forgiveness and wants to give it back tenfold.

So he does.

He removes his helmet and kisses the shocked gasp out of Tony before it can fully leave his lips.

He kisses Tony until he can taste the honeyed liquor on his lips, until he feels like he's drunk on it by proxy. Tony kisses him back just as hard, just as desperate, their teeth clacking against each other like the other is going to disappear if they don't consume them whole. It's an ugly kiss, not at all like the sweet things he had fantasized about a lifetime ago, but it's still good, still scratches that itch in the back of his brain that is thoroughly occupied by Tony Stark, regardless of universe.

Later on, with his come dripping down Tony's thighs he confesses. To everything. He tells this Tony of his Earth, and his Tony and how he lost it all in one fell swoop. How he eradicated this Earth's Steve before he could make the same mistake.

"You understand?" the warrior says, grip tightening around Tony's hips. "You understand why I did it? It was for you. It will always be for you."

Tony says nothing. He kisses Steve like he wants to draw blood.

[coolcattime]

After what feels like years of falling through the void, Martha and Andor wake up in what appears to be a forest with firelight coming from a nearby clearing. Confused, they head towards it and are greeted by two pirates, neither of whom they've met before and one of whom Martha is pretty sure is meant to be dead. Capsize and Redbeard greet the newcomers with caution, assuring them they aren't dead, and that at the very least Redbeard isn't dead. The statement isn't the most reassuring, but they don't have any time to explain more since Shadows start creeping into the clearing.

Now in a slight rush, Capsize very quickly explains that *something* has happened to the Champions. They have no idea what but whether they appear next, one of them is going to hunt them all down and try to kill them. Obviously Martha and Andor don't really believe what they're hearing, since the ideas of the four becoming bloodthirsty killers with no regard for their friends is ridiculous, but she doesn't really care if they believe her. She says that they'll be a task to do to escape, they'll just know what it is, and just run from anyone that isn't her or Redbeard even if they really look like one of their friends. The Shadows then overwhelm each one of them and they seemingly black out.

When they seconds later appear in a jungle, now separated, with the distinct idea in their heads that they need to fix the machines scattered around the area, they realise there might have been some truth to the pirate’s words. When arrows start flying and they hear Redbeard crying out in pain, they realise there’s more truth than they ever would’ve believed.

Survivors:

Capsize, Redbeard, Martha, Andor, Gaines, Season 2 Dianite, Alister, Alyssa

Killers:

Jordan, Sonja, Tucker, Tom, Furia

Unsure:

Waglington, Mot, Spark, Jeriah, Season 1 Ianite

Jordan.

An imposing hunter that roams a jungle corrupted with odd technology, Jordan still believes he’s working in the name of his Lady. When the Shadows began to corrupt him, they used her voice, his desperation to be with her again, to convince him that those he’s killing are nothing more than sacrifices for his Lady. Wielding a rapier and a bow, he hunts ruthlessly through his jungle, defending his tree and his Lady’s temple.

His arrows are less deadly than his sword, but he’s modified them to help him track the targets they hit by giving them intermittent shocks until they remove the arrow head. He will hunt down the intruders in his jungle to sacrifice them for his Lady. Even if some of them look familiar, none of them would be here if they weren’t traitors to the Goddess.

Sonja.

A woman corrupted by forbidden knowledge and a purple disease. The Shadows came whispering to Sonja, promising her the knowledge of what truly happened to Capsize, insisting she wasn’t truly dead. Sonja tried to ignore them for as long as possible, but when her own research into contacting the dead failed her, the amount she had delved into the forbidden knowledge having taken its toll on her body, she gave in and allowed herself to once again make a deal with the Shadows. She was shown Capsize in the Shadow’s realm, being hunted down and killed by Furia over and over again, and in a moment of despair the Shadows took control of the Flux and Taint and fully corrupted her.

She now roams a tainted forest, in the middle of which sits a library filled with the forbidden research that condemned her to this fate. She wields staff which she attacks with, but her real danger comes from the overwhelming taint that has corrupted her body and that she spreads to the survivors she hunts, harming and slowing them. In her mind, she is hunting the monsters that hunted her friend, completely unaware that’s exactly what she’s become.

Tucker.

A ruthless blood knight, strengthened by the wounds of his victims. Tucker was already wracked with guilt before the Shadows came to corrupt him, regretful about the actions he did for the other Mianite. The Shadows poke at the guilt, showing him the killing of the Ianitas, as well as showing him the killers that Jordan and Sonja have become, blaming Tucker for this too. And as the guilt became overwhelming, they corrupted it into a want to join his friends, into an incurable bloodlust.

Now he controls a walled fortress, wielding the god killing sword once again. He uses his victims blood to power himself, resulting in more blood spilling. He has no idea who the people he’s hunting are, he barely has any idea of anything but the need to gather blood and sacrifice those in his fortress to someone.

Tom.

Tom was not corrupted in the same way his friends were. In fact, he’s no longer himself at all. The Shadows reached out to the power inside him, the god that Tom killed and accidentally stole the power of, and offered him a chance to be in control once again. Dianite was more than happy to accept.

Wielding a jagged, serrated blade, Tom’s body has been bent and manipulated to look more like the horned god that now controls it. Roaming a recreation of his own temple, he has complete control of his environment, seemingly able to appear from anywhere to ambush the survivors. Tom is aware of what’s happening, of what has become of himself and his friends, but is powerless to stop a one again completely empowered Dianite from hunting down his friends still uncorrupted.

Furia.

There was no corruption needed to persuade Furia into the Shadow's Realm. At the time of their original death, they were invited, given more power to continue to hunt and kill, at the time only survivor, Capsize for all eternity. And who were they to refuse the offer?

Their home is now a burnt wasteland, filled with obstacles that survivors struggle over and they move through effortlessly. Wielding a cursed sword, their attacks burn, growing worse over time if not treated. The Guardian sometimes misses when it was just them chasing down the pretty much helpless captain, but they can't object to the new prey that has slowly made its way to the realm. Though still, they make sure to give extra special attention to her whenever she once again finds herself in their grasp.