#he’s also the Only Dragon left but shhh he doesn’t have to know that

[spiderin-space]

Tatzel: Oh, Little Lord!! I was beginning to fear you had abandoned your Prince!!

[sapphirefox1510]

I finally finished the second chapter of my book, so here it is.

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After grabbing the proper equipment, I return to the cave. There aren’t any odd creatures skittering around this time, so I can stay focused on my goal. I go down the same path as before, reaching the aven I didn’t attempt to climb before. 

The aven doesn’t pose a challenge; it ended up being a simple climb. The problem now is, “how do I find that person.” I look around, continuing down the passage.

“Hey, stop right there!” I turn to find the source of the commanding voice. I see a tall woman with auburn hair tied back in a ponytail wearing clothing similar to the girl from before in dark colors with glowing symbols. She holds her hand up to block the light from my headlamp. “who are you?”

“uh, Osirus. Who are you?” I respond.

“why are you here?”

“I saw something weird, so I came to investigate.” she stays silent a moment, seemingly analyzing me. 

“it’s not safe down here; go home or find somewhere else to investigate.”

“What makes it so dangerous besides one odd creature? This seems like a normal cave system?”

“It’s not your business to look into.”

“Well, I’m not leaving until I get answers. I saw something weird, and I want to know what it was.”

“The answers you’re looking for are easy to obtain, but you’ll never be able to go back to the life you lived before unless you want to call these caves your home, leave, and don’t come back.”

“Ok, goodbye, weirdo” I turn and walk away from the woman further into the cave system. I don’t know who she was, but she is all sorts of crazy. Luckily she doesn’t follow me. 

I continue further into the tunnels looking for landmarks, and occasionally set up small piles of rocks to ensure I can find my way back. I also take a few pictures; this cave system is actually really amazing. Then I arrive at an awe-inspiring cavern. I can’t see much because my headlamp is the only light source in the room.

I hear a sound like a hissing and turn to see what it is.

Big white eyes. 

I hear footsteps. 

I’m pushed to the ground. 

“Shhh, it’s ok. He didn’t mean to approach your nest” I look over and see the crazy lady from earlier standing like a barrier between the animal and me. “slowly go back out the way you came in. no sudden movements.”

She wasn’t looking at me, but I knew the instructions were meant for me from the tone. I look at the creature and see the biggest lizard-like thing I’ve ever seen. “what is that thing?”

“get out of here without dying, and I’ll answer all your questions.” So I follow her instructions and back out of the room carefully. Once out of the room, I wait for her to come out. “I knew you were going to be trouble.”

“Who the hell are you, and what the hell was that?” I try to stay calm, but this has been the most confusing trip of my life.

“you can call me chieftess Aurelia and the animal that almost mauled you to death is a dragon,” she answers like it’s the most normal thing in the world. 

“ha! hehe, oh, I must be going crazy too. Maybe it’s something in these caves making me hallucinate. Yeah, that must be it. I’ll just go home and sleep it off” I start back up through the cave system.

“oh no, you don’t,” she grabs my shoulder, stopping me from leaving “clearly, you can’t be left to wander around unsupervised, and I don’t have time to escort you out right now. So you’re coming back to camp with me.”

“no, nope, I am not following some stranger to their camp in an uncharted cave where I’ll most likely never be found again.”

“why would I go through the trouble of saving your life and taking you back to my camp using my valuable time and resources to make sure you’re ok only to then kill you?”

“I don’t know; serial killers do weird things.”

“Come on,” she pushes me to the side and starts walking down the tunnel.

I weigh my options possibly run into another giant killer beast or follow the stranger that turned out to be right and only might kill me.

Possible serial killer it is.

It only takes a few minutes of the chieftess leading me through the caves for us to arrive at what I assume is the camp. Several tents circle the large area with people milling about doing different tasks; a few of them stare as we pass by. They’re all dressed similarly in thick fabrics with glowing symbols. This place is odd, but it doesn’t seem dangerous. I guess she wasn’t lying to me. 

“So,” I ask the chieftess, “what’s up with the glowing symbols?”

Without looking at me, she answers, “they’re to help identify people.”

“What, like name badges?”

“Kind of, yes, but they also help us tell them from other animals and identify their job and family.”

“So, more like an introduction worksheet in a different language?”

“I guess.” we enter a tent, and the inside is lined with bookshelves and desks; the scrape of pencils and shifting paper fills the air. “Hilde.”

The same girl from earlier looks up from her desk where she was reading a stack of papers. “yes, chieftess.”

“This is the boy you saw earlier, right?”

She looks at me for a moment “yes, I believe so.”

“Good look after him for the next few hours”

“What?”

“I have some business I need to attend to before I can escort him out of here; until then, look after him.”

“I’m not a child, and I’m a little offended at the implication that I need a babysitter,” I attempt to defend myself.

The chieftess gives me a look that clearly means don’t argue with me. “after seeing you walk up to a dragon’s nest and nearly get killed, I’m not inclined to believe that”

“you did what?” Hilde looks at me incredulously “you really aren’t that smart, are you?”

“I didn’t even know dragons existed until like twenty minutes ago; you can’t blame me for that,” I say, annoyed at her slight.

“I forgot you’re from above ground, so you wouldn’t know.”

“Try not to cause any problems, you two,” the chieftess leaves the tent.

Hilde stands from her desk “alright, come on.”

“where are we going?”

“I’m not gonna be able to get any work done with you here, so might as well go visit a friend. Name’s Hilde, by the way, if you haven’t caught on by now” she walks out of the tent.

I follow her cause what else am I gonna do? “Osirus.”

“Cool name.”

“Thanks.”

[ladymacabrebeth]

The Name That Must Not Be Named (TW: Suicide, SA, VA) by Lady Macabre Beth

PROLOGUE

1979

"Out, damned spot! Out I say!—One: two: why, then, 'tis time to do't.—" An actress recites the lines of Lady Macbeth while the director, Sir Gregory, gulps his throat at the echo of the words. Thankfully, the audience focused on the new rising actress at the university. Otherwise, they would've noticed his Adam's apple enlarged than usual, which he then hid faintly with his scarf. He glanced to the right, and thankfully, the eyes of the audience gazed at no one but the new muse. He peeked to the left, and all eyes were on her—his new star.

"To bed, to bed! There's knocking at the gate: come, come, come, come, give me your hand. What's done cannot be undone. To bed, to bed, to bed—" Suddenly, the audiences start screaming. As the actress gazes up, she sees a woman with long black hair wearing a distressed white gown gasping for her last breaths. Around her neck was a rope tied onto the battens of the theater. The blood from the woman's neck dripped on the actress's forehead, which led her to scream and run backstage. The audience started leaping from their seats and finding their way to the exit. And at the orchestra, a bunch of audiences draped with bell bottoms, long black hairs parted in the middle, climbed their way out of the seats. It was the night that changed the spirit of that theater. 

PRESENT

2015

"So that's Marina, right?—"

"Shhh! You can't say her name, especially inside the theater." Candice, the sophomore, warns Laurence, the freshman. 

"Oh, sorry. Why not?" 

"Call her M only. It's a long story. People have reported seeing her ghost whenever they say her name. So it's best to call her M if you don't want her spirit to haunt you." 

"Oh, okay—"

"Alright, freshies! Settle down, please. We will now enter the theater." Sir Eric beckons the students inside. "There's no going back once you enter the premises. Remember that." He warns the students. With hesitance, the students follow after him. Upon entering, a statue with his mouth gaped wide was carved onto the center of the proscenium wall. His expression was furious, like a dragon about to devour the audience. Inscribed below him is the word—liber pater. On the right side of the proscenium wall, there were carved grapes, and on the left, a goblet with wine. The students couldn't help but gaze at it with marvel and fear. And finally, they settled into their seats after. 

Sir Eric clears his throat. "This will be your home for the next four years! Or less than that if you don't make it far. So treat it as if you would treat a temple. The theater is your church—your new religion." He gazes at the statue, and his eyes suddenly dilate at the sight of it. With vigor, he points at it. "Do you know who that is?" 

"Me, Sir!" Laurence raises his hand.

"Yes, you." Sir Eric beckons him.

"That is Dionysus—"

"Correct. Or also known as Bacchus—the god of theatre, wine, ecstasy, ritual madness, and insanity." He takes a sip from his bottled water and then gazes at the statue with his eyes glistening at its sight. "You see, it is only in the theater where we can perform taboo things in a way that is still socially accepted. The most immoral and darkest sins you desire to commit—you can do on stage without the burden of it counted as a sin in your regular life. It's all pretend, and we'll never be accountable for the barbarism that—"

"I'm sorry I'm late." A faint voice comes from behind the audience seat. The students turn their head and sees a girl with pale skin and bright russet brown eyes that glowed in the darkness. On the front seat, Dani, a curly haired sophomore, nudges Belle. "I bet she's elitist." Dani whispers. Belle giggles as she chews her gum. "I bet she doesn't know how to sweep the floor. I'll make her clean it 'til she cries." They both giggle.

"Okay, take a seat. But please don't be late next time." The latecomer sits. "Now, where was I? Right. In your daily lives, you are stiff Apollonians. But in the theater, this is where you can strip your mask off and reveal your true chaotic nature. It is here where madness resides in the night! Anyways, enough of that dramatic intro." He takes a gulp of his bottled water. "You, latecomer. What is your name?" Sir Eric asks.

"I'm Holly. Holly Johnson." She responds. 

"Ah. You. I know your father. You're the daughter of Dean Johnson?"

"Yes."

"Ah. I bet you don't know how to sweep the floor?" He asks while Dani and Belle giggle. "Rich bitch." Dani whispers. "Who's Dean Johnson?" Belle asks. "Isn't he like a well-known acrobat? I know he's like based in Russia." Dani responds. "Oh, I bet she just got here because of nepotism—"

"Sir, why would you assume I don't know how to sweep the floor? Just because I come from a privileged background doesn't mean I don't know how to clean or do chores. We should stop looking at things as black and white—" The students start clapping.

"Damn." Laurence whispers.

"I love her!" Candice whispers back to Laurence.

"She kinda reminds me of you." He responds.

"That's hot of her to speak up!" Kim butts in.

Sir Eric clears his throat. "Okay. Hold up. Relax. I was asking. There's no need for you to be so aggressive and defensive. Remember, you're the daughter of Dean Johnson. You must set as a good example." Dani and Belle giggle. 

Finally, the orientation ends, and Holly bumps into Candice. "Hi! I'm Candice." She extends her hand to Holly. "Hi, I'm Holly. Nice meeting you!" She smiles. "I like what you did in there." Candice smiles at Holly in the aisle while Sir Eric passes by, brushing his arms at Candice.

"Okay, guys! Come forward!" Dani and Belle beckon the students. They move forward towards the sophomores. "Okay, so we will be your heads in the production, along with Candice. Where is she?" Dani gazes at the exit and finds Candice standing beside Sir Eric. "Whore." Belle mumbles. "Anyways, okay, let's start. So we have a bunch of rules here in the theater. All late comers will drink a late shake as a punishment. Except for today. Today is an exception since it's just orientation." Dani glares at Holly. "And remember that here in theatre, you will start from scratch and your achievements from kinder until high school won't count. Think of it as if you're reborn—as if you're nothing—a blank slate. You're a nobody here until you make a name for yourself. Okay?" 

"Okay." The students respond.

The next day approaches, and the students gather in a circle on stage. Thankfully, Holly was early. However, one person went in late. It was Tia—a classmate of Holly's since high school. "You! Your late! Come here!" Dani beckons Tia. On the center of the stage, Belle pours coke into a plastic cup, then ketchup, gin, water, chocolate, and coffee mixed in one. "Drink this." Belle hands over the cup to Tia. "Prove to us that you belong here." 

"Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug!" The students chant. Tia takes a deep gulp from her throat and slowly grabs the cup. She squints her eyes as she sips the drink. And finally, she finishes and everyone cheers except for Laurence and Holly. "Excuse me, I need to go to the comfort room." Tia excuses herself. Holly gazes at her. "Excuse me, me too." Holly excuses herself. 

In the comfort room, Tia gags at the toilet bowl. "Tia? Are you alright?" Holly asks. Tia purges the late shake on the toilet. Finally, she wipes her mouth, but it still has bits of the vomit. Tia goes to the sink, but there's no water. She tries the others, but there's none too. "Here." Holly hands over some tissues. "Thanks." Tia responds. "I didn't like what they did to you." Holly utters. Tears start flowing from Tia's eyes. "It's not like this in the corporate world. Bosses don't do that because they're professional. My Mom is going to get angry when she finds out—"

"Shhh! Come here." Holly offers a hug. Afterward, they head to the 2nd orientation.

"Okay, so I want to inform you all that sponsorships for this play is required. You all need to ask your friends, family, and schoolmates for money to fund this play. The company doesn't have much money. So if you love theatre—do this. Prove your love, devotion, commitment, and passion by doing so!" Dani commands the new students. "You can do this by contacting people you know around the campus to ask or contact companies or brands willing to sponsor cash or in-kind. Preferably, the in-kind should be items usable as props. You may use the telephone at the office. That would be your first task to prove us you're worthy in this company." Belle adds.

Finally, the students exit the theater to begin on their first task. Holly walks towards an empty hallway to contact her Mom on the phone until she sees Candice approaching her direction. Her once bright aura dimmed into something of a murky shade. Holly noticed bruises on her face, arms, and legs. Her hair was disheveled too. "Hey, Candice. Are you alright? What happened?" Candice covers her bruises. "I-I-I was—" Tears start pouring from her eyes. "He-he-he took it too far. No one will believe me. He's too powerful. They'll call me a slut—" 

"Shhh. I believe in you." Holly gives her a hug while Candice mourns on her shoulder. "You believe me?" With bloodshot eyes, she gazes at Holly. "Yes. You should report him."

"No one will believe me. Look at the way I dress. They'll say it was my fault—"

"They'll believe you. Look at the bruises on your body. You have evidence. And the next time it happens, secretly record it on your phone." Holly suggests. 

At the office, Laurence enters with hesitance. He sees Sir Gregory sitting on the sofa with his cigar resting on the ashtray. Laurence clears his throat. "S-s-sir Gregory. I-i-it's great to meet you." He extends his arm. Sir Gregory doesn't shake it and browses through a script. "I-I-I'll be taking calls for sponsorship. May I use the—" 

Sir Gregory finally shuts the script close and browses at Laurence from head to toe. "Perfect. Call Miss Esmeralda McFarlane for sponsorship." Sir Gregory hands over a strip of paper with a number. With hesitance, Laurence grabs it. "B-b-but Sir, isn't she the daughter of the late dictator—"

"Do as I say. Pronto!" Sir Gregory exclaims. 

"O-okay, Sir." With trembling hands, Laurence starts dialing the number. "H-hello—"

"Oh, and don't forget to invite her." Sir Gregory takes a puff of his cigar. "Yes, Sir." Laurence nods his head.

Outside the office, a lady draped with jaguar printed pants, a white blouse, pearl necklace, black Prada hand bag, and nude pumps knocks on the glass door. The Manager, Gary, opens the doors. "How may I help you, Ma'am?" The Manager asks. "Hi, I'm Holly's Mother. She's one of the new students, and she called me earlier to say that your company is looking for sponsorships for the play?" She grins. "Yes! Yes, come on in." She remits the money, and afterward, Gary shuts the door close.

"Hey, Papa Greg!" Gary beckons Sir Gregory. "What—you hairless hag?" Sir Gregory responds as he flips the pages of the script. "Look what we have!" He flashes the money. "Perfect! Keep that to yourself. Besides, we have money coming from Esmeralda. She never fails to donate." He chuckles while Gary grins as he hides the stash of cash on his drawer. From the glass door outside, Kim catches a glimpse of them laughing as they keep the money. She enters and lines up behind Laurence at the telephone booth. "Fuck her Mom—dumb ass bitch." Gary chuckles. "Money for me!" They giggle while Kim pretends not to hear. 

The following day, the students approach the theater with shock as they see police men gathered outside. As the door opens, two police men bring Sir Eric out with handcuffs on his hands. "Justice works, after all." Holly mumbles. "What happened?" Tia asks. "Sir Eric coerced—"

"Candice." Tia cuts her.

"Yes. How did you know?" Holly asks.

"I'm not stupid. I see how Sir Eric brushed his arms against her." Tia mumbles.

"She's such a slut, right?" Belle cuts. "Well, that's what she gets for being a whore. But oh no, I'm going to miss Sir Eric. What a pity! It's her fault they're firing our favorite professor. Whore." Tia and Holly silently look at each other. "I bet she did it for the grades." Dani adds. "Oh bitch, I wouldn't be surprised." Belle and Dani giggles. "Let's go." Holly beckons Tia. 

"Hey Holly."  Kim approaches her. "Hey, what's up, Kim?" Holly responds. "Hey, don't get mad, but I overheard this from the office." Kim looks down as she fumbles her fingers. "Uh huh?"

"Okay, so your Mom donated for sponsorship, right?" 

"Yep." Holly responds.

"Okay, so after that, they hid the cash under the table. Sir Gregory said that Sir Gary can keep the cash as extra money since Esmeralda McFarlane is funding the whole play." Kim explains while Holly clenches her fist. "Lastly, I heard them call your Mom a dumb ass bitch." Kim breathes while Holly doesn't respond. "I'm sorry, but I think you deserve to know."

"Thanks for telling me, Kim. One sec, give me time alone." Holly's voice cracks as she responds.

"Where are you going?" Tia and Kim asks. 

"The bathroom." Holly approaches the comfort room with her clenched fists shaking. She shuts a cubicle door and starts banging it with her hands. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! You don't say that to my Mom! You don't disrespect her like that! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" She bangs on the cubicle door until the hinges come loose. The door falls on the toilet as she heads to the sink. She spreads her arms on the sink and slowly gazes at her reflection with bloodshot eyes. Suddenly, the comfort room is silent except for her breath echoing. And then she smashes the mirror with her right arm. "Fuck!" The glasses shatter into pieces. A tiny portion of it cuts into her right arm. 

"Oh dear! Oh dear!" A professor enters. It was Professor Barbara. "Oh no sweetie. Your arm!" She approaches Holly, whose face has turned red from all the rage and bleeding arm. "What happened dear?" 

"I-I-I already donated money, but it wasn't enough to please them." Holly sobs. "Oh dear, let me tell you. The truth about life is that you can't please everyone, no matter how hard you try. The least you can do is know that you did your best. Alright?" Professor Barbara utters as she washes Holly's right arm on the sink. "I-I-I'm so sorry for the mirror. I couldn't help—"

"Oh, sweetie, never apologize for what you feel, okay?" She strokes Holly's hair on the side. "Don't seek approval of your worth from them, okay? I know you're smart and got in this program for a reason. Remember that. So chin up and never let that crown fall." Professor Barbara gives her a hug. 

The following day, Laurence and Tia walked towards the steps of the university. At the steps, Dani and Belle were giving out flyers for their feminist organization, Pink Youth. "Join Pink Youth, where women support women!" Dani and Belle hands out a flyer to Laurence and Tia. Upon walking forward, Laurence rolls his eyes. "How could they claim themselves as feminists when they didn't support Candice's side?" 

"You're right." Tia responds. "Instead, they slut-shamed her. Sick." Tia's eyes augment. "Fake hypocrites." Laurence utters. "Where's Holly?" He asks. "She's still at the clinic, I think." Tia responds. "Ah."

As Laurence and Tia enter the theater, they get surprised by the appearance of Esmeralda McFarlane. "What the hell is she doing here? Isn't she the daughter of the dictator?" Tia utters. "Yep." Laurence gulps while the rest of the campus talk in whispers upon seeing her. "Nasty." Tia whispers. "True." Laurence replies while he fidgets his arms behind his back. "One moment, I'll be right back." Laurence heads to the bathroom. "Sure, I'll just be here." 

In the bathroom, Laurence drops on his knees and starts purging what he's eaten for breakfast. Outside the theater, Holly finally arrives. "You're here. How are you feeling?" Tia asks. "Much better." Holly responds. "You know me—I'll never give up." Holly wipes the tears from her face. "You ready for acting class?" Tia asks. "Bring it on." 

"Okay, let's start with Athena!" Sir Gregory beckons the first student on stage. "Okay, recite Juliet Capulet's monologue in Act 2 Scene 2. And scene!"

"O Romeo! Romeo! Wherefore art though Romeo—"

"Cut! I can't hear you! Project your voice! Louder!"

"O Romeo! Romeo! Where—" Athena repeats.

"Again! Your voice is so soft!"

"O Romeo—"

"Stop! You're wasting my time here. You won't make it far with that mouse of a voice you have! Out! Get out of my stage! Next, please!" Sir Gregory yells. Athena exits the stage and then out of the theater. As she walks in the hallway, tears start pouring from her eyes. She bumps into Candice, who has finally returned on campus. Candice gazes at Athena with worry.

Backstage, Laurence puts his makeup on his dresser. Candice arrives with her bruises covered with concealer. On her arms was a Ouija board. "Hey, Candice! How're you doing? You're back!"

"Uh huh." Candice gives Laurence a hug. "Who's next?"

"Kim, I think." Laurence responds as he strokes the blush on his cheeks. "Okay. By the way, I ran into Athena earlier. She had a black aura around her—"

"Oh you and your superstitious self! Anyways, what's with the Ouija board?" Laurence asks while he glides the lipstick on his lips. "I'll tell you later."

Kim enters the stage with her hands fidgeting. "You, chinky eyed woman." Sir Gregory points at her with a knife. "Do as I say." Kim nods her head as she looks on the floor. "I want you to reinact your first menstruation." The students look at each other and whisper in silence. Little by little, Kim starts touching her abdomen and making painful sounds. "Louder!" Sir Gregory yells. Kim lets out a loud moan. "Okay, next, I want you to pull your panty down and show us the blood." Hesitant, Kim slowly rolls her pants down. "Faster! Show me! Show us! What are you waiting for?" He yells. She pulls her pants down and touches the edge of her underwear hesitantly. "Pull it down! Do as I say, or I will stab you with this!" He gesticulates with his knife. Suddenly, the theater went quiet, and the only thing that echoed was Kim's breath. She started pulling it down while she consciously stared at Holly. "Why are you staring at her? Are you lesbian?" 

"Y-y-yes, Sir. I'm lesbian." Kim responds. "Okay, you're done. Next!" Sir Gregory yells as Kim runs backstage. Holly finally entered the stage while Sir Gregory beckoned some male ensemble to join. "Okay, for this one, I want you to reinact Marquis De Sade's 120 Days of Sodom but in movement." Little by little, the male ensemble form a semi-circle behind her, and they start touching her body. Holly fakes a moan. The ensemble slowly remove her clothes except for her bra and underwear. They start kissing her all over. Something about this strangely empowered Holly. She wanted to win over her professor's approval so bad. "Yes, come on! Sell it to me! Sell yourself! You're a whore, right?"

"No, Sir—I'm not a whore." 

"Yes, you are. We all are. Everyone dies a whore! In theatre—we sell ourselves for approval. Not just in theatre but everywhere! We are all whores because we sell ourselves to get approval by people. So give that your all because you're a whore!" Sir Gregory puffs into his cigar. "Come on now, make me turn straight." 

The ensemble tie Holly's arms in a pole. One of them pours a candle wax on her skin as she moans. "Perfect." Sir Gregory mumbles. "Okay, next!" 

Holly runs backstage and pants. "Who would've thought my first BDSM experience would be on stage and in front of people?" She laughs. "No, Holly. That was very degrading." Candice replies. "I didn't like that either." Laurence adds. "Fuck, the candle wax is stuck on my skin!" Holly exclaims. "Here, let me help you out." Tia approaches as she tries to peal the wax. Bits of Holly's body hair gets removed as the wax gets peeled. She screeches from the pain. "Laurence, you're next."

Laurence heads to the center stage. "I want you to pantomime a blowjob! Down on your knees!" Hesitantly, Laurence gets on his knees and starts pantomiming. After a minute, Laurence tries to get up as he slowly feels pain from kneeling down. "Stay on your knees!" 

"Yes, Sir." Laurence responds as he stays for 7 minutes more in that position. When he finished, he ran backstage and headed to his dresser. "I want to hire a hitman." Tears flow from Laurence's eyes as he wipes his makeup off. "I got a better idea." Candice responds.

"Let's play Ouija."

"What the hell? Why?" They all respond. 

"Maybe we can get answers by conjuring spirits on why the system here is so shit!" Candice smirks.

"What has gotten into you?" Tia asks.

"Let's try. Come on." 

"You know what, fuck it. I'm in. Might as well curse this goddamn exploitative place." Laurence responds.

"You know, I heard that if M likes you, she'll appear as your doppelganger, and if she hates you, she'll whisper your name and show up to you." Kim adds.

After 30 minutes, Sir Gregory finally left along with Esmeralda McFarlane. The students ran to the stage with the Ouija board. It was 10 in the evening. "Anyways, Candice, why did M commit, you know?" Laurence asks. "They say she got envious of the new younger actress who replaced her. But I don't believe in that. I know there's something more. I can feel it. Anyways, let's start." They put their hand together on the planchette. "Hello, is there anyone here?" Slowly, the planchette spells out the words, Y-E-S. "Okay, that's not funny! Guys, who moved that?" Tia asks. "Not me!" They all respond. "What's your name?" It spells out, M-A-R-I-N-A. "Fuck, guys!" Laurence screams. The lights of the theater start flickering. Suddenly, Candice starts crying and shaking. Only the whites of her pupils are showing. "Guys! What's happening to Candice?" Holly panics. "He-he-he raped me! He raped me!" Candice mumbles. "I couldn't take it anymore, so I had to end it. I needed to end my life! He destroyed my dignity!" Suddenly, the group gets quiet as they realized it wasn't Candice speaking. It was her—the name that must not be named.

Suddenly, the lights return, and Candice faints. Backstage, Belle removes her makeup while someone whispers her name. "Belle. Belle. Belle."

"Yeah, who the fuck is that? Yeah I'm here! Come here! Stop playing tricks!" She yells until she sees a reflection of a woman with pale face, blood all over her neck, and down her long white gown that seemed rusty and dried out with blood. Belle screams and runs all the way to the stage. "Fuck!" She cries on the center stage. "Belle! What happened?" Holly asks. "She-she-she showed up to me!" She gets on her knees and starts covering her eyes. 

The following day, the students headed to their Shakespeare class. "Okay, who can tell me why Ophelia is depressed? Why did she end her life?" Professor Jodi Schaider sits on her table while she spreads her legs open. Holly raises her hand. "Yes, Holly?" 

"I think it's because she relied her self-worth and identity on men. Thus, she feels like she's nothing or has no purpose without the men in her life." 

"Interesting take." Professor Schaider replies. "You, Tia? Why are you gazing out the window? You're starting to look like Ophelia!" She spits while Laurence covers his nose from the scent of Professor Schaider's beer breath. Holly gazed at Tia and wondered why she's been so quiet ever since they entered college. She wasn't that way before. She was active and loud in high school. Not to mention, Tia was the batch valedictorian. But something changed, and it's like she'd absorb every character they'd discuss in class. And right now, she emulated Ophelia.

It's as if the theater devoured Tia ever since the orientation. The stage was the stomach, and she got swallowed by it. It tore her from limb to limb, gnawed into her flesh until she was no longer the golden child she was from high school. It rinsed the life off of her. She was reborn as nothing but an empty vessel. 

"Okay, next, what about Hamlet? Do you all think he was really depressed?" 

"Me!" Kim raises her hand. "Yes, Kim?" 

"Hi, Ma'am. So for me, I believe that he was semi-depressed and semi-pretending." 

"Okay, why would you say that?"

"I think he was depressed because Claudius killed his father and pretending for the most part. He was pretending to be out of touch. But the truth is, who contemplates to be or not to be when that is such a philosophical thing to do? Only a sane person can contemplate on the possibilities of what the unknown can bring." 

"Okay, that's a good point. Care to point out what else makes you think he's pretending to be mentally ill?"

"Yes. When Hamlet plotted to stage a play that would trigger his Uncle Claudius to feel guilty and when he decided not to kill him while he was praying." 

"Correct. Why?"

"Only a sane person would think of not killing someone while they're praying because they obviously know he'll go to heaven."

"Excellent!" Professor Schaider exclaims while Holly silently smirks in her seat. 

At the bathroom, Dani and Belle put their makeup on. "You see what happened here in the mirror?" Dani asks. "Uh huh." Belle responds. "That was Holly's doing." 

"Oh. What a pity. Holly might be depressed." 

"Uh huh. Most likely. Poor rich bitch." They both giggle.

At the theater, Laurence and Holly sneak in. "Laurence, are you still planning to hire a hitman?" Holly whispers. "Oh, I wish. But I can't afford—"

"Let's kill him!"

"I'd love to! But how?"

"This!" Holly points at the arsenic. Laurence's eyes enlarge. "How?" He asks. "Well, he likes getting his food heated up. I can pour arsenic on it." She whispers. "Genius!" Laurence replies.

"Excuse me? Excuse me? Who can heat my pasta for me? Sir Gregory calls out. "Staff!" 

"Sir, coming!" Holly approaches. "Dear, could you please heat my pasta for me?" Sir Gregory asks. "Sure thing, Sir." She grabs the tupperware and heads backstage. Laurence smirks at her. She was about to pour the arsenic until she covered the bottle again.

"What are you waiting for?"

"Wait, he's praying."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, look at him!" Holly whispers. "He's praying right now. He might go straight to heaven if we kill him now,"

"So you believe in heaven and hell? I thought you were an atheist?"

"No," Holly chuckles. "I'm religiously fluid. I believe in the possibility of anything, even if it's undebunked by science. What do we know about the unknown—the things that go beyond life? And if heaven and hell do exist—God forbid—let the ones who suffer in this life rest in paradise 

and the ones who abuse their power burn in eternal damnation."

"So what do we do? When do we kill him?"

"Not now, I guess." She hides the bottle of arsenic on her bag. "Wait, I have a plan B! They have a reading this Friday for Henrik Ibsen's A Doll House. We can change the scripts into something of our own. That will anger him for sure." Laurence smirks at the idea. 

Finally, Friday approaches. The sophomores request Laurence and Holly to mop the floors. "Sure Dani. We'll mop the floors now." Laurence responds while Holly grabs gasoline and places it inside a bucket. They start sweeping the stage and floors with gasoline disguised as water. An hour later, the actors gather on stage for a reading. The stage manager hands on the scripts and pencils. "Dear, can you please heat my food?" Sir Gregory requests Holly. "Sure thing, Sir." She grabs his tupperware, heads backstage, and starts pouring the arsenic while no one watches. Finally, she places it on the Microwave. Afterward, she serves it to him. "Okay, let's do this!" Sir Gregory claps his hand. "Actors, ready?" The stage manager beckons the actors. "Ready!" They respond.

On the script, the cover page says A Doll's House. And finally, they flipped the page. "Marina, what are you doing at the edge of the cliff?" Actor A asks. "I'm ready to jump." Actress A responds. "What? But you'll die?" Actor A responds. "Well, I'd rather die than live my whole life knowing I've lost my dignity."

"What do you mean? I think you're just envious because he has a new muse." 

"No! I'm not even envious about his new muse! I'm furious because he took away what made me infinite! He took away my dignity! My youth! My—"

"What the fuck is that script?" Sir Gregory yells. "That script is wrong! That's not A Doll's House! You stage manager! Are you dumb?" He points at the stage manager. "No, Sir. I swear. I know I got the—" 

"That's the wrong fucking script! Who the fuck changed it! Who?" Sir Gregory starts sticking out his knife to the stage manager until he feels himself choking. 

Backstage, Laurence and Holly incinerate their lighter on the curtain wings and quickly dash out of the theater. The actors start screaming. "Fire! Fire! Fire!" They start dashing out while Sir Gregory stands center stage with his knife. "Who—who—" He starts coughing and drags his body in all directions until his clothes start catching fire. "No! No! No!" The flames slowly engulf his body until it burns his face, and nothing else was seen except for his eyeballs bulging out from his burnt crispy black corpse. In those last few breaths, the only thing that flashed before his eyes were the sins he committed—how he took Marina's youth, her virginity, her dignity, her life, his students’ sanity, and more. 'Til his last breath, that's all that ever played. 

Backstage, Dani and Belle started screaming as their clothes start catching fire. 

At the exit of the theater, Laurence and Holly watched the fiasco. "I guess this is the best performance this theater ever had." Laurence mumbles. Holly smirks as she pulls out a cigarette and uses the flames of the theater to light her cigarette. Nothing but screams of terror and roaring flames were heard. At the entrance of the theater, a lady with long black hair and white dress glowed. She was smiling at Holly. When Holly stared back at her, she was surprised that the lady looked just like her. "Am I dead?" Holly panics. "No, she's been reborn." From her peripheral, a man with curly hair who smelled like wine replied to her. When she looked, the man disappeared.

A day after, the theater was nothing but ashes. Only the face of Dionysus remained. He still looked alive with his mouth gaped open, furious, and ready to devour people. It remained gold and in tack as if no fire occurred. The police and the media took pictures of it. On their left, a woman stood. She had long black hair parted in the middle, bell bottoms, and a face that glowed. The media approaches her. "Hi, excuse me, are you a student here?"

"Yes." The woman responds. 

"What's your name?"

"Marina."

END.

[angelicamerlinbarnes]

Albus Dumbledore being an awesome teacher and human being

Bubblegum Bitch - MARINA

(Imma be honest with y’all, it’s mostly just him being a crackhead.)

He tells stories about Grindelwald, about their marriage and their beliefs and their lives together. All of the stories have lessons - sure, a lot of those lessons are about how NOT to make pasta, but they’re still lessons!

He likes to matchmake students using seating charts and certain magical spell assignments. He’s very good at it. I mean, he’s shit at figuring out who likes each other, but he is great at meddling, so Mcgonogall tells him who to mess with and he does as he’s told. They make a great team (and are invited to a lot of weddings). Couples they’ve helped include but are not limited to: Dean and Seamus, Luna and Ginny, Hermione and Harry and Ron, Sirius and Remus, Peter and Maxwell Needles, Peter and Regulus (that was later), Lily and Severus and James, Fred and Lee plus George and Lee, Charlie and Newt (queerplatonic), Leta and Newt (queerplatonic), Harry and Luna (queerplatonic), and Sirius and James and Remus (queerplatonic). They’ve been very busy.

He and Mcgonogall have teatime almost every day. They talk about their students and work on their matchmaking plans. There’s a lot of sass and deadpanning involved. Sometimes they invite Remus, Sirius, and James. (Not Peter. He doesn’t need the same level of torturing that they do.) Bubbles of all shapes and sizes and colors float around the room the whole time. It’s fantastic.

He accepts gossip in exchange for extra credit. He’s a really good secret keeper too, so a lot of students go for it. (It hasn’t broken any friendships. There’s an understanding among the student population that Dumbledore is like Ms. Potts from that Muggle film Beauty and the Beast - well-meaning and trustworthy, but terribly, terribly bored.)

Everything in his classroom is pink. And glittery. And covered in sequins. Once a student asked him why and he just smirked for a solid minute before whispering, “Lemonade.” (As if that makes any fucking sense.)

He once taught class in a full-fledged glittery ballgown that faded from light pink to deep purple. He did not once acknowledge it or act like anything was out of the ordinary. One student raised their hand and asked timidly, “Professor? Why are you wearing a ballgown?” And his brow furrowed as he frowned, looked down at himself, and muttered, “Thought it was a bathrobe.” (Harry does not let him live this one down. His dad is not much help - Severus took many, many pictures.) (Not that it mattered. On Wednesdays Dumbledore wears pink (glittery ballgowns).)

He speaks to kids who have parents, friends, and relatives in prison, whether for being Death Eaters or otherwise. He chaperones visits to Azkaban for them so they can see their loved ones. He casts protective and invisibility charms on them so only the one they’re visiting can see or hear them, and he teaches them Patronuses (with Remus’ help, of course). He often spends these visits on the other side of Grindelwald’s bars, playing wizard’s chess against him. (Sometimes Grindelwald gives him flowers. It always makes Dumbledore smile. There may be no one left in the world who understands why they love each other, but they don’t need to understand it for it to be true.)

He stands at the front of the classroom and makes funny faces during tests and waits to see how long it takes for a student to look up. His latest record is seven minutes.

When he’s teaching Grindelwald’s history, he makes snarky comments about his husband. They range from “I mean really. Who the fuck thought wizards ruling Muggles was a good idea?” (Rest in peace that one student who thought it was a good idea to say, “You did, Professor.”) to “Honestly, that man has no concept of romance. I ask him for a nice night out and he takes me to a Muggle rally about witchcraft and tries to impress me by playing practical magical jokes on the speaker. A toddler could do that.” (He often gets mushy during those stories though, usually trailing off like “But that time he took me to my childhood home for my birthday was sweet… brought me flowers for Ariana’s grave and everything. Sure, he killed her, but… he has a sweet side…” and from there on out he’s basically a lost cause and you might as well go to your next class because he’s not going to stop humming that fucking Elvis song).

He “loses” his glasses all the time by casting an invisibility charm on them and forces his students to search the classroom for them when they’re on his face the whole time. He thinks it’s funny. Harry does not. (But Severus and Mcgonogall do, and that’s really what matters.) (Severus and Mcgonogall and Dumbledore are  a fantastic trio full of snark and sarcasm and shit, I have just decided.)

He makes little animals out of multi-colored magical dust and they fly around the classroom and perch on his favorite students’ heads. Once a dragon fell asleep on Newt’s head and wouldn’t leave even when class was over. Newt had to wait for the magic to wear off so it would disintegrate. (Of course, he had named it by that point and had a meltdown when it disappeared, so Dumbledore recreates the dragon (Robert) every class and just lets Newt coo at it, even during tests.)

He conjured and charmed two giant (I mean Egypt half-animal half-man guard statue size giant) fluffy pink teddy bears that are alive and stand on either side of him like bodyguards during class. A Slytherin student punched one in the stomach once and it vomited enough M&Ms over their head to completely bury them. The student’s partner, a Ravenclaw student, punched the other one in an ill-advised burst of illogical thought and received the same treatment, but in Skittles. (Luckily their Gryffindor aro-ace friend and nonbinary Hufflepuff friend stayed after class and ate until they could move again. Safe to say no one has dared punch the bears again.) (Though I hear they do give very good hugs. And they eat homework if you ask nicely enough!)

He has a bunch of cloaks that act as portals to realms like Merlin’s Celestiums (S.G.E., Soman Chainani). He gives one to each student for tests, and they are transported to their ideal test-taking environments, complete with whatever song they feel like listening to at any given minute playing all around them. Unsurprisingly, his students have the best grades in all of Hogwarts. (He also has a secret cloak that he uses for himself, to see Grindelwald. Grindelwald has his own matching one so he can always make it home for Thursday date night.) (They have been caught. Of course they have. But no one is going to challenge Dumbledore for his right to see his husband, even if he did marry a murderer.) (Sirius and Remus used to steal the cloak for their own dates. And later on James would steal it to take the two of them on friend-dates. Inspired by that, Dumbledore made a special cloak for Mcgonogall that he gifted her on her fiftieth birthday. The smile she gave him then is his favorite of all time.)

He bickers with Fawkes constantly. This often evolves into full-fledged screaming matches with spastic hand gestures, gratuitous spit, and angry hops on both sides. Once Dumbledore drew wand on his “useless babbling bastard of a bird”. No one has bothered to tell Dumbledore that Fawkes probably can’t understand a word of their arguments. (They do evacuate the classroom when these fights start though. The last time they stayed their hair was gone for a week, and when it grew back it was glittery and pink.) (Harry looked especially fantastic. Sirius thought he looked great. He laughed until he was in tears. Harry was not amused.) (Remus was.)

Sometimes he’s absent from class and Mcgonogall teaches them instead. When asked if he’s alright, Mcgonogall simply answers, “My partner is away on personal business for the day. Now, turn to page -” Soon enough people figured out that “personal business” meant “conjugal visit with Genocidal Maniac Husband™ in prison”. They stopped asking.

He gives all of his students the red button test (without knowing what it does, do you press the red button?). Those who pass get automatic A’s and a lollipop. Those who fail get a talking pet pygmy puff. The thing that usually trips people up is that Dumbledore considers the “correct” answer to be pressing the goddamn button. (Seamus is the only one who has ever passed (enthusiastically too!). Newt half-passed because Niffy the Niffler sat on it.) (Sirius and James would have passed too if they had not been the life partners of one Remus Lupin, whose creativity with threats and extensive curse-word vocabulary rivaled Mcgonogall’s even at the tender age of fifteen.)

He has floating war maps just lying around. He plays battleship with his students on them. What he neglects to tell them is that their moves have actual consequences in the world, as the maps are magical and reflect real battles and places. When Harry finds out (he blew up Denmark, completely unawares) he shows up at Dumbledore’s door soaking wet at five-thirty in the morning with a newspaper, his fists clenched, his face red, and his chest heaving. He wouldn’t stop glaring for weeks. (Alas, Dumbledore’s glorious beard has great resistance to fire spells.) (Following an incident involving the original four Marauders in their third year. Shhh… we do not speak of that.)

He has a habit of walking into random classrooms, gesturing for a student to come with him with his finger, and then taking them to his office for teatime. He usually asks them inane questions about a specific theme (fish, pasta strainers, socks, throw pillows, mooses, etc.) for hours until finally dismissing them. It drives Mcgonogall crazy. (She’s yelled at him plenty for “kidnapping students to ask them questions you know you could easily find on that Muggle infer-het thing! They have exams, Albus -” but he just smiles at her while calmly sipping his tea and she always ends up collapsing in the chair across from him with a sigh, taking the tea from his hands and chugging it before wiping her mouth, slamming it down on the desk, and asking, “So. Fish. What’s up with them?” and Albus just beams.)

He spends half of his class lessons babbling on about how Merlin was gay for Arthur and Arthur was gay for Merlin, but not in long tangents. Just a bunch of random comments without context, warning, or explanation. (He mentions “poetry” a lot and waggles his eyebrows for some reason, so… what’s up with that? (Merlin BBC))

He overshares A LOT about his and Grindelwald’s lives. It’s a problem because 90% of the time it’s something sweet or innocent like “Oh, he brought me a tiger lily that bloomed open to show a gold and ruby ring nestled inside on our first anniversary. That’s how he proposed to me” and “He used to hum while he did the housework, you know? He’d stand in the middle of the house and close his eyes and just hum. Almost entire symphonies too, just waving his wand in the air like a conductor” to “This one time in bed he…” and there is NO warning. The amount of things these poor children’s ears have had to endure… (*shakes head in mock disappointment*)

He often cooks during class using wandless magic. The pots and pans heat themselves and float around in the air. Sometimes Dumbledore dances and then they start dancing too. He whistles and creates a base beat for the sizzling, popping, clanging, and other kitchen noises to follow. This usually happens during tests. Oh joy.

He leaves the windows open when it rains, but somehow nothing ever gets wet. Harry and Hermione have a theory that it’s protection charms. (Really it’s a spell Severus made up when he was drunk because he was angry that umbrellas don’t have enough room under them for three, and he’s always been the most self-sacrificial person in his marriage.)

He regularly makes bets with Mcgonogall about the students’ love lives. Not money, but little things the other doesn’t want to do or buy. Dumbledore usually has to handle the Marauders’ detentions or give up one of his teddy bear guards for Mcgonogall’s experimental enjoyments. Mcgonogall has to do something embarrassing or let him borrow one of her glittery hats. They should really stop making bets at this point; the stakes and the winners are dreadfully predictable. He always wins when the bet is on a student’s sexuality or gender and she always wins when the bet is on who a student will end up with. Nonetheless, the bets continue. So too does their grumbling amusement.

He figured out how to make a broom invisible when he and Grindelwald first fell in love, so they could be showy with each other at their Greater Good rallies. They later used it for dates, prison breaks, and daring escapes complete with kisses under the moon. Once Grindelwald went to Azkaban, Dumbledore used it to find some privacy where he could grieve. Now, he uses it to travel around his classroom and Hogwarts and trick everyone into thinking he can fly by sheer will. Only Mcgonogall knows his secret. (And Severus, but Dumbledore doesn’t know that because he told him when he was black out drunk. So.)

He lets pygmy puffs sleep in his beard. Sorry, I don’t make the rules.

He once taught class while teetering on his feet because he had somehow gotten himself tangled in Christmas lights from shoulders to ankles and couldn’t move. (Sirius wandered in and saw this, cried he was laughing so hard, and then warbled his off-key way through as many Christmas carols as he could remember for the rest of class.) (Dumbledore tried to Silencio him but just fell over trying to make the wand movement. He broke his nose. Sirius almost had a panic attack because he couldn’t breathe from how hard he was laughing. By the end of this he had curled up in a fetal position on the floor, Remus was lying down next to him and muttering jokes to him, Mcgonogall was trying to fix Dumbledore’s face, and Severus had taken over the class. Not that they got much done - James was visiting that day. And him, Sirius, and Remus all laughing about the same thing rarely leads to a quiet and calm learning environment.) (They gave him a joint present of rainbow Christmas lights for his birthday - “Happy Gay Day, Professor!” - and he was not amused.) (Grindelwald was though. So was everyone else.)

He tends to mix up holidays in his head and often decorates for the wrong one. He goes all out too. He’s kind of a disaster, and so is his classroom. It became such a problem that the Marauders actually took pity on him and made him a very big calendar with all the holidays marked on it in glitter and fake jewels and flowers. It sits behind his desk and occasionally works.) (Occasionally.)

He’s queerplatonic partners with Mcgonogall. They held a friend-wedding and forced Severus to be the flowergirl. Harry officiated, Remus was Dumbledore’s best man, Sirius was Mcgonogall’s, James wasn’t given a job cause he was crying too much, Lily was in charge of taking care of James, and Peter was the ring bearer (he only lost them TWICE and they were ring pops anyway). Mcgonogall screeches at him a lot and Dumbledore can be depressive and neglectful because he misses Grindelwald but they love each other so it works. (And they’re the prime source of advice for James, Sirius, and Remus regarding their own queerplatonic relationship, for better or for worse.)

He puts his feet up on the desk even though it’s bad for his knees. Mcgonogall told him it’s bad for his knees and he has stubbornly put them up there every class since. (His knees are killing him but he will not give in to “a paranoid, batty old witch who doesn’t know shit about what’s good for me and wouldn’t if she was hit with an Imperio and I told her -” “I’M YOUR FUCKING PARTNER, YOU BLASPHEMOUS ARROGANT BRAT OF AN OLD FART!”)

Instead of walking around his classroom, he struts. (Yes, it worsens his knees.) He does strike poses, he does make obnoxious expressions, and he does look fabulous. WORK! (Yes, that was a Hamilton reference.)

He once taught class without a  face because Mcgonogall cursed him for “fucking up the alphabetical organization of my tea, you old twit. Honestly, Albus, it’s not that hard”. (How did he teach without a mouth, you ask? Easy, he used intermediate BSL (deaf students, plus Azkaban isn’t great on old men’s ears and he and Grindelwald are both gettin’ up there) and Sirius interpreted.) (Incredibly wrongly, crudely, and foul-mouth-ly, but nonetheless he interpreted.)

He has difficulty understanding the straight people in his class. He is fully accepting of everyone and wants the best for all of them, but when it comes to relationship advice, he’s shit.

Excerpt pulled from Pensieve of a conversation he had with a student who identified as female:

Dumbledore: “So your boyfriend is a dick, is what you’re saying?”

Student’s best friend: “Yes. Merlin, he’s such a dick. Would you believe he -”

Dumbledore: *looks at student and points to her best friend* “Why don’t you just date her?”

*cue red faces and sputtering*

(They did not take his advice.)

He wears bowties ALL THE TIME. If he’s not wearing a bowtie, there are bows in his hair and tying the ends of his beard together. Once he wore pigtails. It was great.

He has a habit of bursting into song randomly and performing full-blown Broadway musical numbers (yes, he can rap Guns and Ships at full speed). This usually involves all of the complex moves to be expected in a musical - dramatically climbing up the stairs while looking forlorn, leaping onto the desk and squatting as you launch into a whispered limerick, speedy costume changes - you know, the works. Sometimes Sirius and James back him up, if they’re there. Severus will take over teaching with a bored look on his face (“What are you looking at, Harry?” “Dad, there’s -” “I don’t see anything interesting happening, Harry.” *glares*) while Mcgonogall screeches at Dumbledore to “GET THE FUCK DOWN, YOU NARCISSISTIC HEATHEN!” It’s a problem.

When the Marauders challenge the dress code, Dumbledore is the first Professor to encourage it. While Sirius is perfectly confident in a skirt and Regulus isn’t far behind (neither is Severus, surprisingly), James and Remus are far more insecure. Dumbledore wears a tutu to class one day to show his support, and Remus wouldn’t stop smiling the rest of the day. (James just turned bright red and beamed when Sirius started laughing.) He also backed Lily up when she wore pants (along with Marlene, Dorcas, and Mary) by convincing Mcgonogall to wear pantsuits for a week. (Sirius, despite being a hardcore gay, was quite affected by this. Remus did not appreciate the water spit in his face and refused to kiss Sirius for a week.)

He plays Cecily Smith (Will Connolly) on the ukulele on late nights and stares out at the stars thinking of Grindelwald. Sometimes he forgets to turn off the Sonorus from earlier that day and ends up broadcasting his little song to the whole school. Sirius and Remus will dance to it in the common room while James watches his partners with a happy smile on his face (and Peter sleeps, because he’s tired and doesn’t force himself to stay up simply for the purpose of being cool or finishing that one assignment that isn’t due for another two weeks) (I’m sorry, do you feel called out?).

This man has weed brownies stashed away in his desk and he does eat them during class. He also offered one to Remus once, who is the only student that knows about the stash and tends to use marijuana for medical purposes (helping with anxiety and pain regarding the full moon, courtesy of my beautiful girlfriend who has never read nor seen Harry Potter but nonetheless insists to me that Remus Lupin is a stoner who wears red beanies). This prompted Sirius to ask for one, which Dumbledore refused, but then James joined in and they started a riot by standing on their desks and pumping their fists in the air and screaming, “BROWNIES FOR ALL!” while Remus giggled into his hand and was no help at all, so Dumbledore gave them each a brownie just to shut them up. (Sirius wouldn’t stop rambling about how pretty Remus’ eyes were, James was babbling on about unicorns, Severus was hissing at something no one else could see, Regulus was hissing at the same thing for some reason, Peter was crying because he couldn’t tell the difference between hamsters and gerbils and guinea pigs, and Lily was muttering pi under her breath until she fell asleep.) (Mcgonogall was unimpressed.) (No teatime for eight weeks. Damn.)

Dumbledore cares about all of his students, however little he shows it. He wants them to lead a better life than he did. And maybe fall in love with better people than he did.

[izayoichan]

🎶

Vy: What? Emil: I ehm.. Flynn: Hmh? Emil: I believe I know why the young star doesn’t know what he is.

River put an arm around Lucas automatically as he could both feel and see the young man tense up slightly, he would definitely have to refill that stone later today. Felix looked at Emil, tilting his head slightly as they too had their attention on the dragon. 

Emil: The best way I can explain it.. You are not put together quite right. You have no connection to the Vala, which means you have no memory like we do, and you were unaware of what you are. Lucas: So… the accident perhaps? Emil: Could be.. It could have severed the connection. Vy: That would explain it.

Vy looked at Emil, he hadn’t sensed what he had, but it did very much explain it for them. If the connection had been severed, then Lucas would not know.. And now he would have a lot to learn. 

Vy: I am sure -he looks at Emil, getting a nod as the dragon seems to understand where he wants to go.- that between the two of us, we can try and help you learn everything, answer all the questions. Lucas: Hmh…I think I need a bit of time still.. 

He still wasn’t quite over the whole being a dragon. In one way, it explained a lot, but it was also foreign to him. Much like Emil had said, he wasn’t connected with that side of him, but it also made him appreciate not being adopted even more, this would have been something to explain to a foster parent. 

Lucas: But thank you for telling me. Emil. You're welcome.  Lobo: Walk!

He could still sense the stress in Lucas, and a walk to clear the head, he knew was just what the doctor ordered. It was also that time of the evening, almost night when everyone kinda spread out checking out their presents so it was the perfect time to take his two humans out for a walk. To make sure he got his point across, he got his leash, not that he needed it, but it got what he wanted more across than a bark.

Lucas: Ehm.. do familiar’s need to go for walks. Lobo: Dragon does. River: He likes it though, want to go for a walk? Lucas: -chuckles slightly and pets lobo.- Sure Lobo: Yay walk. Munchie: I stay.. 

The young cat rolled off his owner's lap, stretching out on the sofa which got him another chuckle from his owner, and a pet. 

Lucas: Yeah, you can stay here with Felix. Felix: Joy… Munchie: Yay!

Hours later, the only ones left in the living room were the three pets. Flynn and Fan had gone with Emil to set up the new pad, and watch some movies. Lucas was already asleep, having been carried to bed by River, who had then retreated to the Den to find places for his Christmas presents. Arlene and El were checking out El’s new book, sitting in Arlene’s room where the simmie collection was now complete. Hayden and Vy had retreated to their bedroom, while Chris and Hayle had decided to take an extra walk in the snow. 

Lobo: This was fun! Felix: So you always say. Lobo: It’s always fun! Felix: Shhh.. Lobo: Sorry.

He looked at the sleeping kitten, he would carry him up to Lucas later, but for now he wanted to let it sleep. He yawned, and put his head down on the comfy couch, Munchie lying next to him, while Felix was curled up on the other side, one paw resting over the kitten. 

Lobo: We should say it? Felix: Okay, fine. Lobo & Felix: Merry Christmas!

Beginning - Previous - Next

[curvynerdfan]

Remedies and Recipes

Hey y’all! A friend of mine gave me the idea of Geralt rescueing the reader on a hunt and I kind of went wild with it(almost 2400 words). I hope y’all like it!

Requests are open!

I’m sorry if there are any mistakes, I read over it myself a couple of times and then post

Warnings: curse words?, burns

Geralt x Reader

Geralt of Rivia was renown for his skills at hunting down the most dangerous beasts known to man but even he was wary of the creature he was sent after this time. A dracolizard was from the same origin as dragons, yet more dangerous since there are many more in existence. This draconid can run and fly at astonishing speeds and is the only creature of dragon descent that still breathes fire. Even worse, a dracolizard had a venom-spiked tail. To be frank, Geralt wouldn’t be trekking through the wilderness to kill the beat if it wasn’t for Y/N.

Y/N was beloved by the town of Biala and one of the few people the Witcher held near and dear. She was known for being one with nature. Y/N had what could be considered a green thumb and a free spirit. Many townsfolk would rush to her when a loved one was sick or injured. Y/N cared deeply for the creatures that lived near her cottage and consistently fed and cared for the critters. When Geralt would visit, he’d hunt in the woods nearby but was always aware of her “sanctuary safe line” and made sure not to hunt an animal she may have a connection with. In thanks for all the times she has healed him and provided companionship, Geralt liked to hunt for her and stock her pantry with meat for the winter. Wolves protected her land from trespassers but would also cuddle her in the firelight. She loved to traipse through the woods and collect herbs and plants to use for remedies and recipes. Geralt can only assume that is how the dracolizard captured her.

Geralt tried to push worries out of his mind but all he could scent was burnt flesh and trees. He wasn’t sure how many people the beast had killed and devoured and it took everything in him to keep his head on straight. Usually that wasn’t hard for him to focus on a hunt. Y/N was special to him and now that he was being honest with himself - he’d break if something had happened to her.

Now that he was getting closer to killing the creature, he paused to down an elixir and coat his sword in draconid oil so the blade could slice through the dracolizard’s tough scales. He decided it would be best to leave Roach with his belongings tied to her and let her roam. After he killed the monster he could always whistle and she would find him. He was only six or seven miles from Y/N’s cottage and hoped that he wouldn’t have to search much further. Dracolizards were semi-intelligent, not as smart as a full-fledged dragon, but still very adept. Hopefully, the monster realized that Y/N was more valuable alive but wasn’t smart enough to realize you were important to the man hunting it.

Just as he readied himself and let Roach loose, he heard a vicious screech that made him flinch. Oh, he was definitely close. The elixir was beginning to kick in, as well. His reflexes were enhanced and he could now hear the beasts scales scraping against the charred trees to his left. He steadied the blade in his hand and grasped his shield.

The lizard-like monstrosity noticed the amber-eyed Witcher and raised it’s broad wings in offense. A growl escaped from it’s massive nuzzle filled with razor sharp teeth. The dracolizard’s body was pure muscle. Geralt broadened his stance as the monster began to stalk him. The two rotated in a circle, Geralt keeping a close eye on the creature’s spiky venom-filled tail. The last thing he wanted was to be struck by that.

Suddenly the dracolizard lunged at him letting at another gnarly screech and gnashed it’s teeth at his face. The Witcher blocked with his shield and swiped his sword at it’s chest, managing to rip through some of it’s flesh before rolling out of the way. Geralt quickly hopped back onto his feet and brought his foot down onto the beast’s massive tail. He hoped that this would deter the creature from using the powerful weapon against him. In retaliation, the monster unhinged it’s jaw and released a blast of unrelenting fire in the Witcher’s direction. Geralt barely managed to protect himself with his shield and realized too late that part of his shin was in the line of fire.

Geralt smelt the burning flesh and felt the searing pain and grit his teeth in annoyance.The monster then attempted to fly off but Geralt did not plan on letting it live to attack another dat and dropped his sword and shield in favor of grasping the draconid’s tail. Once he had a decent grasp around the wound he made earlier, he dug his heels in and pulled back. He continued to step backwards,planting his feet and pulling until the beast lost momentum and pain caused it to fall back to the ground and land stomach up.

Geralt quickly lunged for his sword and rolled away from another fiery blast. He ducked behind one of the few remaining trees and waited for the fire to stop. Geralt took a deep breath and launched himself out of his hiding spot, sword raised ready to strike. The dracolizard leapt forward and snapped its jaws. As Geralt ducked, he jabbed the sword upward and into the monster’s neck. Thankfully he hit the beast right in the middle of its throat and as it fell from its charge at him, it fell onto the sword. Unfortunately for Geralt this meant the gigantic draconid was on top of him.

The Witcher huffed in annoyance, “Fuck.”

He began to push the dracolizard off of his body with a groan. Geralt managed to get onto his knees and worked on catching his breath. Once he had a semi steady breath again, he heaved the monstrosity onto his shoulder and stood, shifting the beasts neck off of him. Free from the extra weight, Geralt shook his head and tried to clear his mind.

Once he had his bearings, the Witcher scanned the surrounding area for any other beasts or adversaries in his vicinity. The silence and lack of movement brought relief and worry for the mutant. On one hand it was nice to know that nothing else was going to attack him today but on the other hand, he still doesn’t know where his Y/N is. No, not HIS Y/N, just Y/N.

“Y/N! Y/N are you out here?” Geralt paused to listen before repeating.

He stomped through the forest searching for any signs of life. He kept searching and was becoming frantic looking for her when he heard a small whimper.

“Y/N”, he gasped.

Geralt lumbered towards the boulder he heard the noise come from.

The Witcher couldn’t help but gasp at the sight of her, “Oh, Y/NN.”

Her skin was a sickly pale, several shades lighter than her normal glow. There was a nasty bruise across her face and her nose had dried blood from when she must have hit her head. There was a large, grotesque burn spanning from the edge of her right shoulder and up her neck as well as several smaller burns and scalds on her body. Geralt grunted in annoyance. He wished he had decided to visit a day sooner. Y/N whimpered again and her face scrunched up in pain.

“Shhh, Y/N. It’s all gonna be okay. I’m here now, nothing else will hurt you ever again.”, Geralt soothed softly. “I’m gonna pick you up, okay?”

Geralt asked but didn’t expect a response and he didn’t get one. He bent down to pick her up trying to be wary of any obvious injuries. The Witcher slowly slid an arm under hers and then the other underneath her legs. Geralt let out a classic hmm, lifted her off the ground and away from the ground.

Y/N’s head lolled against his shoulder, “ mm, careful Gera---,” her words faded out but eventually she came to again to warn him, “there’s a , mmm there is a monster here” , she mumbled, “it’ll burn ya.”

Geralt couldn’t help but chuckle lowly and shake his head. Even gravely injured Y/N was worried about the Witcher’s safety. He whistled for Roach but kept his pace steady in the direction he last saw his mare. Roach trotted up to him and he gently asked her to stand as still as possible. Geralt lifted Y/N above his head and placed her on his mare. He then quickly mounted Roach and wrapped his arms around Y/N. He clicked his tongue and led Roach back to Y/N’s cottage.

As they approached the cottage, he noticed smoke bellowing from the wood-burning stove. Y/N had a knack for creating wonderful meals out of what the forest provided and he wouldn’t be surprised to see some type of stew or soup hanging above the fire.

He hopped off of Roach when he got close to the entry-way and quickly lifted Y/N off of Roach. He carried her cradled in his arms and nudged the door open with his foot. He walked through the threshold and straight towards her large bed. Geralt gently layed her down and began to rummage through her herb and medicinal plant collection.

“Need a new salve”, Y/N managed to groan out, “ used the last of it on other victims.”

Geralt hummed in acknowledgement, “Of course you helped everyone possible”

He began to collect the different ingredients he needed. He sliced multiple pieces of aloe vera from one of her many plants and then added calendula, lavender and comfrey. He ground the ingredients together with a mortar and pestle. Once he was sure the mixture was properly prepared, he paced back to her gently propped her against the pillows.

He peeled her dress away from her wounds and flinched when Y/N groaned in pain. Geralt wanted to get her out of the dirty dress and into something more comfortable but didn’t want to do so when she wasn’t coherent. There were also more pressing matters at hand. Once the dress was off of the burns and out of his way, he began to cover the burns with the salve. By the time Geralt got to the neck and shoulder burn, he could tell that Y/N had begun to relax. He gently dabbed the concoction onto the massive burn and reminded himself to ask her tomorrow for scar remedies. Y/N sighed and seemed to be drifting off to sleep.

“Not yet, love. Let me get you some water first then you can sleep all you want.”, Geralt promised.

“Mmmm, love? Finally admitting that you have feelings for me handsome?” Y/N asked gently with an edge of humor in her voice.

“Yeah, I guess I am”, Geralt said and quickly ducked out of the house, heading for the well.

Geralt led Roach to the well and filled up the trough with water for her. He decided to take off her saddle and anything else connected to her, happy to let her roam in the safety of Y/N’s sanctuary. He mumbled at Roach about his slip of the tongue and she neighed back.

Geralt shook his head in amusement “I know, I know.”

The Witcher then pulled more water from the well and filled a pitcher and a bucket to bring into the house. He gently shut the door behind them and placed the bucket on her vanity. Walking closer, he poured some of the water from the pitcher into a cup for her. He then cradled the back of her neck with his other hand and helped lift her so she could sip from the cup.

She hummed when the cold water hit the back of her throat and cooled the inner heat from being surrounded by the burning trees. Geralt then moved across the room to pick up a rag and dip it into the bucket of water. He then used the rag to wipe the dirt and soot off of her face before dipping it again and cleaning her arms and legs, careful to avoid the burns where he had just placed salve.

Y/N was beginning to softly snore and had snuggled down into her pillow. Now that he knew she was safe he decided to clean himself up and apply salve to the burn he received while slaying the dracolizard. He peeled off his leather armor and stripped off his shirt. He reaused the same rag from before. Geralt dipped it in the bucket of clean water and began to clean the dirt, soot and draconid blood from his body. Lastly, he cleaned his lower half, stripping completely to cange into a pair of the loose pants Y/N kept here for his visits and long stays. Completely clean, Geralt pulled a chair towards the bed so he could sit and watch over his self-proclaimed “love”.

Y/N’s eyes open at the sound of a chair scraping against the wooden floors. She lets out a grumble and Geralts’s eyes shift quickly to scan and make sure she was okay.

“Join me… love” She whispers with a little chuckle.

“ I, uh…” he stumbles over his words.

“Geralt, get in the bed.” she demanded, “I am trying to tell you, I love you too…” she paused and started to fall back asleep before mumbling out “ so, get over here and cuddle me”.

Geralt huffs in disbelief for crawling into the bed with Y/N. He gently slides towards the middle of the bed and lets her move and contort herself until she is comfortably resting with her head on his chest and right hand resting gently on his torso. The Witcher hums in content as the lovely beholder of remedies and recipes rests against him. He tenderly kisses the top of her head and lets himself loll to sleep as well.

💕I hope y’all enjoyed it 💕

Taglist: @justahopelessssromantic

[wlw-lovestruck-fiction]

Onyx tells Mc she’s pregnant. They hosts a party for everyone to announce of Onyx’s pregnancy. How they announce it and how everyone react are up to you!

Written by @evoedbd

“Hey babe. Welcome back. How was your outing with Na-” the cheer fell from Cali’s voice, as heavy and rapidly as a brick dropped from a skyscraper. Her heartbeat picked up, even as the feeling of led seeped into every limb, dragging her consciousness towards what felt like a tar pit. Sticky, dooming, encasing.

“Onyx?” She called, brow furrowing as she tried to reconcile the woman who had walked through the door with the usual upbeat, unstoppable Onyx Wren. This woman appeared ashen, pearlescent white save for the usual shadings of her makeup, and the veins running blue beneath her icy skin. Long, flowing blonde hair hung in clumps, tangled around the streaks of meadow green like weeds attempting to devour the most beautiful flowers. Where life had once shone in oceanic green eyes, now there was a dullness, a glazing that only emphasized emptiness. Worse, shoulders which could bare the weight of the world slumped, chained down along with the woman’s feet. No. Onyx’s feet weren’t chained down, they were dragging, as if the act of taking a stride was too much to comprehend yet the need for familiarity and comfort drove the zombie like body onwards.

“Are you ok?” A questioned filled with trepidation. Already, Cali could see that Onyx Wren was absolutely not alright. She could feel it. Sticky hands of a hoard all dragging at her through the bond, making the world entirely too much.

Internally, she fought a war, crossing a list off silently in her search for solutions. What could have hurt Onyx this badly?

A fight with Nahara? Doubtful. Onyx loved that woman, and Nahara had earned that affection. Her hugs were too perfect, rejuvenating and secure. How Cali imagined sinking into a pool of warmed honey or melted chocolate might feel like.

Dorran? Oh, Cali had so many things she could say about him, respect for the dead be damned. Cali was absolutely convinced, out of everyone who had ever existed or ever would, that he was the most deserving the title of Jerk. Lord Jerkington the Gaslighting abuser, the third. Anybody who could do half of what he had done to Onyx whilst claiming to love her, whilst she trusted her body and soul to his romance… Cali couldn’t conceive a punishment fitting enough his horrendous crimes. Her anger had nowhere to go. No conclusion. Nothing dark and despicable enough to bring justice or pay penance. All she could do was vow never to allow Onyx to suffer that ever again.

Vinca? That was delicate ground too, and not an unrealistic conclusion. Cali’s personal grudges aside, after-all Onyx’s twin had turned Cali into a well of supernatural energy with the potential to unleash hell on Earth, Vinca had played her villainous role well. Cali still could trace the numerous scars across Onyx’s body, from throat to gut, which Vinca had left. Also, Vinca had technically gutted Onyx, though she had been possessed by Nizha at the time. Cali wasn’t too sure she could ever erase that image from behind her closed eyes. Or her nightmares.

“I’m pregnant.” Onyx’s voice was so small, so broken and confused. If Cali hadn’t been watching and listening intently, she might have mistaken those words for a breath. Or the aircon.

“… you’re…” The word fell from Cali’s lips on a shocked breath. Well. Babe had definitely been the wrong pet name to use. Suddenly nothing made sense. Her stomach fell out yet her body seemed ready to float to the ceiling, all whilst her nerves suffered a rapid fire mix of dreadful numbness and prickling tingles flowing across her skin to match the static ringing in her ears and pinging around her head.

“I’m so sorry! Please don’t be mad. I’ll be good! I w-won’t disobey o-o-or mess up.” The panic in Onyx’s voice cut Cali to the bone. Onyx fell to her knees, arms wrapped around her abdomen and torso as her shoulders curled inwards. She trembled, green eyes gazing up at Cali as if she were a terrifying Goddess preparing to render judgement upon a defiler. Cali shuddered. Who would want such worship as what Onyx was offering in the moment? Senseless, all-consuming fear? In that moment, Cali realised she could never be an abuser. There was no power in Onyx’s terror, only revulsion. Revulsion that Onyx felt she had to be subservient like this. That her trust had ever been so broken that her default was to cower like a beaten dog, still lovingly licking its own blood from the master’s knuckles.

“I didn’t mean for this, I swear. I-I ca-”

Cali couldn’t listen anymore.

“Onyx. Hey, hey, hey. Shhh, it’s ok. Breathe with me, sweetheart. In through your nose, out through your mouth.” She cooed, collapsing to her own knees before Onyx. The moment she could reach, Cali gently cupped her hands around Onyx’s elbows, tenderly guiding the smaller woman a little closer.

“Reach for me through the bond, how do I feel?” Imploring words were accompanied by every joyful image Cali could summon at that moment. The mewls of kittens, the softness of a puppy’s fur. Seeing Onyx recognise her, even as a dragon. Flying. Watching Onyx fly, be it with the wings of a dragon or across a tightrope in human form. Freedom, beauty, power. Family.

Cali’s heart picked up a marching sprint, beating so rapidly she was positive someone could visibly see her pulse throbbing in her throat if they spared a glance. Pregnant meant baby, which meant children. Onyx. Baby. Onyx. Baby. Onyx’s baby… each time Cali managed to conceive the sentence her heart skipped another beat, beat faster and faster until she was positive her heart would burst. Onyx was having a baby. An actual baby!

“You’re… you’re not mad? You’re happy? B-”

“Onyx. You’re pregnant! How could I not be excited?” Cali began as she lured Onyx to her feet. The former Envy assassin surrendered herself to Cali’s guidance, relaxing even in her confusion. Cali was incredibly careful, her touch remaining delicate, as if she might taint the innocence within Onyx if she moved a single finger incorrectly. Yet, there was also no fear to Cali’s touch. She knew Onyx, just as she knew her own breath. She offered comfort, unconditional support, even without having uttered the words.

“I’m nervous too.” She confessed, finally lowering herself and Onyx onto the couch.

“I mean there are so many things to think about. Is it safe? I mean, what effects on the baby will your dragon side have? Will you lay an egg? I mean, can your body even handle that in human form? Will you be human form for the birth? Who even is the father?”

“I didn’t cheat! I’d never do that to you. Please, you have to believe me.” Onyx’s frantic tone was matched by frantic hands which desperately clutched at Cali. She clung to Cali’s forearm, both forcing Cali to remain close whilst also preparing to defend herself. Green eyes filled with tears, a mix of panic and guilt, dappled with layers of confusion. Despite all of that, Cali saw sincerity. She felt the truth of those words as if they were her own heartbeat.

“Onyx, babe… you died. You died in my arms and came back as a Dragon. Cheating never even crossed my mind. There are some insane magical circumstances that my medical training doesn’t cover. Even if you had cheated or if something had happened, I wouldn’t be angry. I wouldn’t be him. You love me, I believe it with all my heart. Nothing anybody can say or do will make me love you or this baby any less.”

“I didn’t cheat.” Onyx reiterated; her voice much softer yet no less vehement. Her hands surrendered their grasp on Cali, allowing the Asian woman to weave her fingers through Onyx’s. The warmth of her callused hands was enough to earn a soft sigh, though neither woman could confirm who it was from.

“I believe you. D-did somebody hurt you? Onyx, babe, did somebody force himself on you?” The words burnt Cali’s tongue. Bile threatened to rise in her throat. The thought of someone doing that to Onyx. Without the guise of a relationship to force his will, to satiate perverted desires… Cali couldn’t… she couldn’t even imagine it, until she could. From a mental blank, to images of a broken Onyx. To memories of her screams morphed into something entirely different, fitting a different scenario. It was enough to make Cali tremble with fear, revulsion and a rapidly rising tide of rage.

“Nothing happened. Nobody r-” Onyx hesitated, unable to utter the devastating word flashing in Cali’s worst fears.

“- did that.”

“Thank goodness. Then, do you know how this happened?” The gentle question was delivered after a breath of utter relief. Knowing Onyx was safe from that abuse, safe from one of the most brutal of Earthly horrors mankind had ever weaponized, helped untangle the tension in Cali’s aching chest. Her heart stopped seizing in her chest, resuming its marathon sprint.

“I don’t know. Nahara said something about consequences and the past.”

“Rebirth. That was when she was talking about the bond of deceased Envy and the barer of the bite. The possibility of physical manifesta-“ Cali stopped dead. Her mind leapfrogged over the words, gathering them into a net of logic so obscure yet so plausible it felt as if she’d been punched unconscious and now was waking up. Waking to a world where mortal logic no longer applied, and the furthest dreams could come true.

“Oh fuck… Onyx..?” Cali didn’t know if she spoke, only that Onyx’s face pinched in concern. No, not concern. Fear. The murkiness reclaimed clear beauty, obscuring it for all who wished to bathe. It nearly broke Cali to see Onyx shrink, yet her small voice shattered Cali’s heart into smithereens; sent those shards digging into every vein until Cali’s body throbbed with how wrong it was.

“Please don’t get angry.” Onyx whispered, flinching as if expecting Cali to scream. Cali couldn’t. All she could do was go over the basics of Nahara’s theories. A physical manifestation of the bond between Envy, Deceased and Barer of the bite. An echo of the past. The lost reclaimed as new.

“Mine? Ours? Is this..?” Cali begged, she wasn’t and never would be afraid to admit it. Such a glistening possibility was at her fingertips, and she dared reach, hoping against hope itself that the impossible had become even the improbable. A thousand to one? Hell, even a million to one was more than enough. Cali would take any and all chance. Hers. Theirs. A chance to see how she and Onyx may appear a thousand years down the line, a notch in the human species. Proof they had existed, that their coupling had existed. Cali wasn’t dumb enough to consider a baby proof of love, not alone, but also it was. It would be. No matter whether or not that million to one chance was recognized.

“I- I don’t know. It’s possible, probably. I mean, magic? I need to talk to Nahara to find out more. I… it was overwhelming to hear I actually was pregnant and can’t let the dragon out. I just needed time. Needed to talk to you. It could be a manifestation of our bond, or it is something from the past.”

“Dorran.” The name fell from Cali’s lips like a bullet dropped from a tower into the cooling lakes. Oh, how it longed to be thrown like garbage, just as the darkest parts of Cali longed to throw the actual man into a trash compactor and hear him squeal.

“This could be his baby too.” She voiced her conclusion. Even as the words escaped, she felt no change in her heart. There was… she hated the man, she hated the power he had abused over Onyx, just as she hated the idea of him continuing to. Yet, for the baby? For that possibility? Nothing. No hatred, no resentment. No matter how she searched for it. She couldn’t confess how deeply that shocked her. Emotionally, everyone always hoped that they’d accept their partner’s children as their own, but the actuality of that often defied dreams. It was a rare person who could accept such a thing, even in Cali’s situation. To find herself even potentially one of them was humbling, too much, too quickly. Diversion needed.

“That’s one hell of a choice. A dead man, unknown entity, or a key to the gates of hell.” Cali made the understatement of the century after a quiet hissing whistle through her teeth. Remarkably, her tone remained as light as she intended the delivery to be, as if she was discussing what to order for lunch.

“Please don’t leave me.”

“Le-” Cali couldn’t even finish the word. Her body moved on instinct, launching into Onyx’s space so that she could gather the smaller woman into her arms. Leave? Onyx couldn’t leave! No, her brain quickly caught up and corrected her internal malfunction. Onyx’s voice had been so small, the chirp of a bird compared to the roar of a dragon. Regardless, Cali was determined to provide shelter, to cage the willing Onyx within her loving embrace.

“Onyx, you died, I thought I’d never see you again. That I might never have another moment with you, even as you were reforming. Now, I’ll get to watch a baby Onyx Wren grow up! How could I be angry? I don’t care if this child is Dorran’s. Hell, even the Devil himself could be the father and I wouldn’t care. I want to be with you.”

“Even with a baby? A baby you didn’t plan, who m-might not even be yours.” Onyx’s words were serious, more so than any Cali had ever heard escape her gentle lips. They were warning, they were a siege to push Cali away even as Onyx hoped to keep her close. It was the last offering, the final out. Cali understood. Her answer here would shape her life. This answer couldn’t be about comforting Onyx, no matter her urges. It had to be truthful, no matter the pain, no matter…

“Yes.” It was the easiest answer Cali had ever given in her life.

“Onyx, we aren’t naturally biologically compatible for reproduction.” Cali’s obvious assessment earned a watery snort from Onyx.

“Whenever I daydreamed of having children, they were always yours. I was already committed to being a mother to any pet or child you had, to being with you. I want this baby to be ours, I want that more than anything.” Cali had to pause, to actually breathe and let her words sink in. Her chest hurt from how hard her heart was pounding, for how she longed for Onyx to want the same things.

“I’m here and ready to be whatever you need me to be for you both. If you don’t want me to be there as the other parent, I can be the cool aunt. Or a friend. Or a babysitter. Anything, Onyx.” Cali concluded, laying her offering out for Onyx to pick through. Silence dominated the room, save for Cali’s hurried breathing and the pounding of matching heartbeats. Or two heartbeats. Did baby have a heartbeat yet? How far along was Onyx? She made a mental note to ask.

“If you want to be, you know, their mom, then I’d love that too.” Onyx finally broke the silence with a soft yet sure voice, a shy smile tugging on her lips. Cali couldn’t help it, she leapt to her feet, letting forth an excited cheer. Finally, all her nerves burst forth, erupting in her version of a triumphant roar. This was HER family. Hers. Hers, hers, hers!

“There’s nobody else I’d rather raise a baby with. Nobody has ever supported me like you. I just don’t want to take your life away, or be a burden.” Onyx continued, reaching up to tuck some of her chaotic hair out of her face.

“Onyx, this isn’t about supporting you regardless of my own feelings. You’re not taking my life away; you’re giving me a life to fight for. A family. Onyx, our family! You’re having a baby, Onyx! It’s a BABY Onyx! Baby! Yours. Maybe mine. Maybe ours. I feel… just feel me, Onyx! Baby! You’re having a baby!” Cali tried to remain calm and mature, she truly did, yet the urge to move overcame her senses. She paced back and forth, using her entire body to emphasize her points. Big, sweeping gestures of her arms accompanied her escalating excitement, turning her into a goofy rendition of a car yard inflatable.

“Yeah. A baby. You… Sweetheart, can you sit down? Just watching you is tiring.” Onyx’s request was accompanied by a summery laugh, one which calmed Cali for all but three seconds. Then, it was back to pacing, phone whipped out of the pocket of her jean shorts so that she could begin to compose her list.

“Onyx, BABY! A baby! Our baby! We have to tell the others! I’m sorry but no more training for you! Also, none of the trash Darius calls food. We should probably look into supplements too, so that the baby is as healthy as possible. Should I call a dietitian for a food plan? And materials! Are you going to make your own maternity clothes? I got paid this week so I could totally go get some fabrics if you te-”

“Y-you want to tell the others?” Onyx cut in, alarm flooding her tone. Cali froze for a second, recognizing the way Onyx’s surprised voice dipped. Oh, Cali realized, she was behaving entirely differently to anything Onyx had experienced. To how Dorran had reacted. That was enough to have Cali’s internal beast snarling, hating how the past continued to hurt. Dorran had insisted on secrecy, on punishing Onyx. Increasing her training, increasing his bullying. Afterall, that had been cheaper than birth control, or a medically safe… Cali couldn’t finish the thought.

“Of course! Onyx, you’re pregnant! This is like one of the happiest days of my life! Top five, for sure! I’m trying to think of everything we need so that we can be ready for this baby. Like, we need to look into our insurance. I don’t think my workplace insurance covers sexy mamma’s who can turn into dragons. Or Assassins. Is there supernatural insurance I need to know about? Are there any doctors for, well, non-normal human pregnancies? Are there any magical medical guides for this? And birthing classes. We need to look into those too!”

“We…” The pondering tone Onyx used broke Cali out of her packing, leading her to look up from her phone.

“… Did I say something wrong?”

“No. It’s just sinking in, you know? It’s really nice to hear you say it. It sounds right.” Onyx explained, her face taking on a dreamy grin. She was so beautiful, glistening in the afternoon sun through the skyscraper windows. Even messy, Cali couldn’t think of anything more captivating than Onyx. Not the sirens of legend, not the most handsome of men. She doubted if the entire troupe, who were the most attractive people she knew, walked in naked that she’d be able to take off of Onyx.

“It feels right.” She confessed in a soft tone, unable to raise her voice above a whisper. The light in Onyx’s eyes… Cali had never seen something so pure. Green, like gazing up the sun through the underside of a wave. The gleam in them was more varied than a kaleidoscope of colours; brighter than diamonds. She had to look away, while her brain still had some function. There was so much that needed to happen, too many lists to write. Lists! That was a good place to start. Cali could do lists. She helped with stock intake, so a simple list on her phone would be a piece of cake! Oh, and her mother! She had to text her mother. Maybe there were some spare books…

“So, I’m going to text mom about getting some medical books out of storage. I’m pretty sure we didn’t sell all of them. They might have some more details on pregnancy. We have to come up with a way to justify everything, maybe we should discuss giving her sight. I’d prefer not telling her we’re fighting demons though. She’d absolutely spit if her daughter in-law was caught in that! Especially since you’re carrying her grandchild! I’d never live it down if I let you fight in your condition. It’d be “Cali, why are you making your girlfriend do everything? She’s pregnant! My grandbaby needs to grow!””

“Grandchild?” Onyx interrupted Cali’s exaggerated impression of her mother. Gone was the kaleidoscope, gone were the diamonds. The wave had crashed down, sending Onyx flailing into the wild tides of her worst fears without anything to hold her.

“She won’t hate me? She wouldn’t ever believe this child could be yours without knowing everything. She’ll assume I cheated. She’ll think I broke your trust and you’re just standing by me because you’re, well, you. You’re too good to walk away from somebody as broken as me.”

“Onyx, I love you. You are the most… I can’t put it into words. You are my… My light. You are not broken, Onyx. You are a literal dragon. Fierce, strong and beautiful. I am so in love with you that I cannot picture my life without you. This feels like my child already. You’ve only just told me and already I feel as if my heart will burst. Surely you can feel how much I already love them.” Cali almost pleaded, kneeling before Onyx. The current Envy assassin reached out, laying a single hand over Onyx’s quivering knee. Cali could feel everything, the tidal wave of anxiety and fears striking so hard and fast that she was almost physically knocked over. She countered, her mind parrying and weaving.

Pizza in a secret alleyway shop, the way hot cheese melted in her mouth, or the strings hanging from Onyx’s smiling lips. Little hands reaching, trying to steal pineapple as Onyx laughed. This was happiness. Love. Safe, secure, keeping their baby proceeded against her chest. So small, yet inspiring something so large. She had to protect, she needed to. Protect both the joys of her life.

The simple concept of the future flowed through their bond, a shield for Onyx to seek shelter behind. Cali herself was blown away by the intensity of her emotions for a distant possibility.

“I can.” Onyx breathed; tone full of wonder.

“I don’t know why I keep questioning you. You’re always kind and sweet. “

“People have hurt you, Onyx. I’d rather you question me a thousand times, a million times, than ever feel unsafe with me. I love you, and Mom can see how much more me I am with you in my life.” Cali insisted, fixing Onyx with an encouraging look before continuing.

“We had the talk when I told her I was bi. About if I ended up with a girl. We talked again after she met you, officially that is. I told her as long as I was with you, at least one grandchild would not be biological. If we even had children. She fully supports my choices and will love this baby with all her heart. She’ll probably spoil them rotten no matter what we say. She already loves you too! You’re the favourite daughter. She’s going to be so excited for her grandchild. Be prepared for a LOT of baby onesie- OH, this one’s cute! Onyx look!” Cali tried to remain serious, she truly did. Yet, curiosity had taken hold and her thumb had all but developed a mind of its own. Soon, she found herself glancing down at her phone, only to see a lovely pastel themed website, filled with baby onesies. Upon spotting a bear on the third row, she excitedly turned her phone to Onyx, which earned an actual squeal of delight.

“Oh my god, that looks like a little Ripley onesie!” Onyx cooed excitedly, leaning closer to support the phone. She couldn’t help but internally swoon over the adorable little bear onesie, complete with little pink pads on the feet. The little hood with adorable little ears, and the stomach patch. The tail, which concealed the buttons for easy changing.

“Right? I’m buying it! Ohh, it comes in purple! Should I get a little leopard?” Cali declared, reclaiming her phone and swiftly adding two versions of the bear to the cart. When Onyx didn’t respond, she paused, turning her gaze to the expectant mother.

“Onyx? Are you ok? Don’t you like them?” Cali asked, her voice going quieter. Once more, Onyx looked so small, trembling in the face of everything. Overwhelmed, Cali realized. Onyx was entirely overwhelmed.

“Cali. They’re both adorable. I’m just scared. How can you be sure Joyce will be ok with this?”

“Err, It’s my mom. She’ll just be thrilled to have a grandchild, no matter if they are biological or not.” Cali responded, unable to fully put into words how she knew. It was simple. It was her mom. Her mom who had supported her throughout life. Her interest in extreme sports, every bump, break and bruise. Her mom had been the first signing her casts, and selling the demon contraptions that damaged her daughter. When Cali’s father had walked out, her mom had been there, fighting to support a child emotionally and financially whilst she herself fell apart. Through teenage heartbreaks. When Cali hadn’t gotten a date for prom, it was her mother who had shoehorned her into a suit and driven her there. When Cali had finally come out as bisexual, her mom had been the first one demanding to know what type of girls Cali liked, gossiping about the boys Cali had only ever expressed interest in.

“But what if they come out with wings? Or, you know, not human?”

“Aside from me being worried how you’ll push that out of a hole the size of a lemon?” Cali questioned with a blink.

“Cali!” Onyx squealed in a mix of disbelief and horror. Her hands came up to her face, covering her suddenly flaming cheeks as she let forth an ungodly groan. Cali couldn’t help but be reminded of Ripley, how the bear concealed her muzzle when Onyx flew across the tightrope.

“Oh god, I don’t want to think about what its going to do to my… well, you know.”

“You’ll still be gorgeous, even if things are a bit different. You know, when I picture mom you, you’re always stunning. I can’t help but think our daughter will be scared her boyfriends will run off with her sexy mamma. You’ll turn into the sexiest MILF.” Cali purred, flopping onto the couch beside Onyx once again with what she hoped was a seductive grin. Strands of shaggy brown hair fluttered everywhere, sticking to Cali’s face in the most unflattering of ways. If asked, Cali would absolutely blame her uncooperative hair for her failed delivery, despite her history of appearing more like a vaguely romantic crab than seductive. Somehow, her dorky display calmed Onyx, judging by how tensed shoulders finally relaxed, and the show-stopping smile returned to her lips.

“That’ll be you, Sweetheart.” She purred in return, nuzzling closer. Cali’s phone fell to the couch, forgotten as the Envy assassin wrapped her girlfriend up in her arms. Both sighed. Everything was right with the world again, at least for a few moments.

“Mmmhmmm, agree to disagree. If our baby is born anything but human, then we tell mom the whole entire truth and teach her how to babysit. The troupe can’t always be around when we need naps, so mom will be happy to have a chance to spoil her grandkid rotten. Besides, she raised me, a dragon will be nothing her brooms of vengeance cannot handle.”

“But, what if the troupe hate me? I can’t help you guys like this.”

“You can’t turn into a dragon because you’re pregnant. That means you’re vulnerable, not useless.” Cali pointed out, giving Onyx an affectionate squeeze around the shoulders.

“Nitza will be after me. She’ll want me, and the baby.”

“I’ll die before I let anybody touch my family.” Cali growled; all traces of her humanity lost in a snarl vicious enough to rival any demon. She felt the rage bubbling, thicker than molten lava in the cradle of a volcano. It consumed, burning through her rationality until she couldn’t tell where her own protective rage ended and Onyx’s began. Onyx may be the dragon, yet Cali’s entirely human body produced sounds to rival Onyx’s alternate form. The former Envy assassin reached out, wrapping her own hand around Cali’s clenched fist, wiggling her fingers between Cali’s until the current Envy had to relax her fist. Had to let Onyx in.

“Ripley and I will protect you, we can take craving shifts! It’ll mean I won’t be on the streets with the troupe, but that does’t mean we can’t both help out here more. We can watch Avi, which will be awesome practice for baby. I can keep gear up to scratch, work on the bikes and you can have more time to design. I know your fingers must be itching to do something creative.”

“They are…” Onyx sighed l, seemingly content to have settled Cali’s rage. The blonde tucked her feet up onto the couch, barely pausing to kick her sneakers off before she wiggled her toes in silent satisfaction. Cali couldn’t help but tighten her arm around Onyx, smiling when Onyx responded by leaning into Cali’s shoulder, forehead buried in chaotic hair.

“but the others will be out fighting while I’m stuck here. It feels like hiding away and doing nothing.” Onyx trailed off, tensing. The sun set over beautiful greens when Onyx closed her eyes, the bedazzling piercing through her cheek acting like the moon across the skies of her expressions. For a moment, she trapped the soft, delicate flesh of her lower lip between gleaming teeth, as if gathering the courage to speak.

“I keep hearing Dorran.” The whispered confession had the dragon within Onyx roaring with rage, something which echoed through the bond. Cali shuddered, brows furrowing as spots took over her vision. For that brief moment she could feel it, the war within Onyx. The uncertainty and doubt mixed with rage. The latter, Cali empathized with. It burned just as brightly within her own heart, feeding into a loop of fury that promised to spiral out of control. Cali didn’t let it, she couldn’t.

Soft feathers, like laying on a marshmallow. The warmth of a spa day, the relaxation. Sticky and wet along the side of her head, into her hair. The rasp of an impossibly large tongue. Laughter. Pride. Love. The certainty of a promise.

“Ignore everything he told you.” Cali urged, barely keeping her opinion to herself. Now was not the time for her to rant about how pissed she was at her girlfriend’s ex.

“Onyx, you aren’t hiding away doing nothing. Not only are you holding a literal dragon back, you’re growing a person! Or a dragonling. You are doing the hardest job in the world. You’re creating a little Onyx! You’re nurturing and providing a safe place for baby to grow. You’re growing a life, Onyx, and sustaining them until they can sustain themselves. Even when you sleep, your body will be working. For nine months, you never get a break. That is way more exhausting than fighting demons for an hour. Can you imagine Cal’s face if he snarks at you? You can be like “Bitch, I grew a nerve cluster today, I’m currently working on a kidney.”

“Sweetheart… You have an answer for everything, don’t you?” There was no laughter in Onyx’s voice, despite the glee taking spark in her eyes. Genuine awe was slathered across her face, radiating until Cali could feel the accompanying emotions through the bond. The littler woman untangled herself from her partner, reaching out to take Cali’s hands for a few moments before her cheeks tinged pink. Without a word, Onyx lured Cali closer, placing the mechanic’s hands over her pale abdomen.

“Nup. I’m scared too, and excited. I just know that you’re my everything, and we’ll figure this out together.” Cali’s words were soft, whispered into the stillness they found themselves submerged in. Cali’s hands were burning, her palms prickling with the tingling heat as she processed what she was doing. Caramel and milk, that was the closest things Cali could associate to the swirl of their different skin colours. Her fingers looked so dark compared to Onyx, casting her in an exotic light, or perhaps Onyx in a mystical one. The duet of tones was dreamlike, earning the largest smile as Cali finally processed the meaning of the gesture. She stared, illogically fearing her callused hands might hurt Onyx and the baby. A breath, accompanied by trembling muscles the few moments before Cali surrendered and placed her hands flat against Onyx’s belly. It was unbelievable! Onyx had barely put on any weight, just enough to be barely noticeable, yet suddenly her body felt entirely new. The definition of her stomach was still there, all lithe muscle and sublime softness, yet there was more too. A curve, small enough to be imagination yet large enough for Cali’s hands to trace. To cup. To protect from the world. Tears prickled at the corner of her eyes, threatening to spill down her swollen cheeks as her smile grew large enough to rival the Cheshire cat.

“Oh, names! We need to start thinking about names!” Cali added enthusiastically, blinking away her tears. This was her future, sitting just beneath the palms of her hands. A little Wren growing, expecting them to have the perfect name. Cali began to panic. What name could be enough for their baby? Forget names, what title best fit until they decided? The baby was too clinical. Baby had that familiar quality Cali was looking for, but also couldn’t be the name they used forever.

“But I’m barely even showing yet.” Onyx playfully protested, bringing her hands to rest over Cali’s, holding them to her belly. Love. It was so pure, so overpowering. Cali lost it. Her tears began to trail down her cheeks, accompanied by little sniffles as she looked hopefully up to Onyx. Every hope and dream she had flooded the bond, sweeping them both away on a tide so impossibly sweet that the real world dared not invade. Even through their sniffles and tears, Cali laughed, appraising Onyx on a particularly important fact.

“It’s never too early to start thinking! Trust me, it’ll be the first thing my mother asks.”

[summerflingsandthings]

Howls moving castle AU?????? Do go on 👀

I'm not sure how much you're gonna be into this because you KNOW I'm a Dream Team/DNF bitch at heart, but let's fuckin GO!

So to start off with, let's talk source. Howl's Moving Castle is a special interest of mine, and takes up at least 27% of my brain at all times, which puts it at a VERY close second to Pokemon and I LOVE both versions. Anyway. So, what I'm thinking is we take the aesthetics from the movie and combine it with the world building in the book. So you're kind of left with the flying machines and cities from the movie but they're paired with the magic systems and the roles from the book. Specifically in regards to the magic stuff, Dream is actually gonna be from Earth, and I'm willing to forego my rule about only referring to people by their username for this because the idea of Clay finding a magical world and choosing to embrace that and become Dream instead speaks to me on many levels and is too perfect to ignore. Drista is also here to periodically cause problems because I love her.

As for the plot, it's gonna be both and neither. Obviously, it's gonna have the same opening premise of George getting cursed (is he cursed to be old? I'm not entirely sure. I don't think so but who knows) and he just happens to run into Dream in his quest to get it removed. I'm also thinking that the whole curse breaking is going to take a back seat to the main plot which will be some Dream-drama like it does in both the book and movie. (I could go on for ages about how elegant it is that Sophie has a character arc that is primarily internal and how the story uses Howl's externally-driven plot as a vehicle to allow Sophie's story to slowly blossom to life and I can only hope to emulate that with George here.) I'm still not entirely sure because this AU is like half an hour old, but I'm THINKING that the Dream-drama is that he's in a mad dash to break his contract with the fire demon because it has put a timer on his life and he suddenly realizes that said timer is a LOT shorter than he originally thought, so it's speedrunning time. How is beating a dragon going to break his contract? Shhh don't worry about it.

As for said fire demon, the obvious choice here is Sapnap, but I???? Haven't been totally sold on that. He makes the most sense and if I can't think of something better that's where he is, but it doesn't feel right and true in my heart. If it's not him, then it's probably gonna be Bad. Regardless of which one it is, the whole reason Dream is even in this contract is because when they met for the very first time, Sap/Bad was on the brink of death and Dream is an overly compassionate idiot who decided to hand over his literal beating heart to save him. Now the tables have turned and Dream is the one who's dying and the demon is the one trying to save him. Dream still has to be the one who beats the Dragon, but for some reason he's oddly reluctant to do so, which is why Sap/Bad enlists George's help is motivating him.

Also, I just KNOW that SBI is here. I can already see Tommy and Techno (who is obviously a Pig Man and honestly looks like something out of Princess Mononoke instead of Howl's Moving Castle but that's not important) in their Ghibli-style costumes and I want it SO bad. Me, grabbing Techno by his weird furry cheeks: I will shoehorn you into this fic an make it look seamless and natural, just you wait.

And that's all I have for now. Thank you, Panz, for indulging me and allowing me to info-dump this less than half-baked AU into your laps. *(bows and exits stage right)*

[lori-the-dragon-ninja]

@ninja-go-to-therapy , I guess I will take this opportunity to torture Koshiro for hurting the cinnamon rolls

//tw: violence, attempted kidnapping, death, murder, koshiro//

Based on devistated because it’s extra angsty that way!

So you know how anger makes powers go out of control? Yeah, angering a demigod was a baaaaaaad idea,,,

(this also includes some hc I have for Lloyd powers)

———

Lloyd loved going out to the park.

It had a beautiful little lake, with pretty fish swimming around, flowers bloomed everywhere and the birds would sing beautifully!

It was simply… peaceful.

The only problem is that it left him alone with his thoughts. And the only things that he’s been thinking about for the last couple years were depressing. His friends, no, his brothers, they were gone.

gone

No, they weren’t gone! They couldn’t have been. He won’t loose hope! He’s going to find them. He promised himself that he would find Cole and that he would find Kai and everything is going to be okay. Everything will be back to normal and they will be happy. They will be a happy family again. He won’t break that promise.

Who was he kidding?

At this point Lloyd was sure that he was just repeating a lie, over and over again, just to comfort himself.

No.

Ninja never quit, he won’t give up on them, because they wouldn't give up on him. He won't give up, even if he wishes that he could. He wishes he would just accept it and move on with his life already, but he can't. Ninja don't leave friends behind.

This isn’t why he came here. He snuck out because he wanted to get away from all these thoughts… clearly it wasn’t working.

He decided that going on a walk might help. It doesn’t hurt to try. Nothing really hurt anymore, he just feels numb.

He was right, walking did beat sitting on a bench feeling sorry for himself.

He'd only been walking for a few minutes before he heard a voice behind him.

“Excuse me!”

Lloyd turned around to see a tall young man approaching him.

“I’m sorry to bother you but, are you the green ninja?”

Oh great, another fan. Lloyd didn’t really like being in the spotlight or interacting with strangers in general. Nonetheless, the man seems excited to meet him. He’s used to fans, they ask a couple questions, ask for a selfie and an autograph and are gone as fast as they showed up. Besides, he didn’t want to be rude.

“The one and only! How may I help you?”

“I’m just such a big fan! I’ve been admiring you for quite some time now!”

Lloyd decided to keep walking with the man following next to him. He has been sitting around enough. Besides, the man didn't seem to mind walking with him.

Something about this guy did seem fishy, but he was probably just paranoid. He has been quite paranoid since-

“Oh I’m so glad to finally meet you! You ninja are so amazing! I must have a lot of luck! First Black, then Red and soon Green!”

Oh, he met Cole and Kai before. Well, there goes any chance Lloyd will have a break from thinking about them. He should try to ignore the comment. It was rude of the man to say it, since everyone already knows they disappeared, but he shouldn't ruin the man's day with a rude attitude.

But the way the man worded it is quite strange. “soon green"? What's that supposed to mean? Perhaps he’s collecting autographs or photos with the team? Yeah, that’s probably it, some fans do that. But this man is just giving Lloyd such a weird feeling. Something is off. He should ask him to clear it up

“Oh, you’ve met them before?”

“Yeah, a couple years ago!”

“Did you get pictures, autographs?”

“Well, I have gotten many pictures over time!”

Over time? What does he mean by that? Is Lloyd overthinking this? Perhaps if he causally asked about it without it sounding too obvious?

“That’s nice! Making a collection?”

“Well, yes. I already have Black and Red, and I will soon have Green!”

“Um? You're collecting photos of ud? Would you like a picture with me? I can sign it for yo-"

“Oh, I don’t think you understand, I'm not here for photos. I mean can't have any photos of you looking like that. I have to make you look pretty for me first!"

Before Lloyd got the chance to ask him what that was supposed to mean, he felt a powerful grip around his neck. He tried to scream, but a rag was placed over his mouth and nose. It smelled funny, Lloyd knew too well that this would knock him out in a couple minutes. No matter how much he struggled, he couldn’t get the man off of him.

“Shhh, shhh, it’s okay Green, it’s okay!” his voice trying to soothe him sounded disgusting “don’t be scared, I will take such good care of you!”

Take care of him? What does that even mean? And was he culling him while trying to knock him out?

“You'll be such a wonderful pet!”

Pet?

“Oh you don’t have to struggle! You’ll just get tired pet! Don’t worry, I’ll train you to be calmer and obeying. Just like I trained Black and Red!”

He- he did what?

He took them. He’s the one.

Lloyd didn’t even acknowledge his kidnapper's words anymore. He zoned out.

He took them.

All he felt was rage. He didn’t hear the attempt to calm him, he didn’t hear the confusion, nor the sudden scream of pain.

No, but he did feel the cold darkness surrounding him. A shadowy fog coming out of his body. He felt pain in his entire body, he felt it changing, but he didn’t care. This man took away his brothers.

-----

Koshiro didn’t worry when Green turned pale, he was about to pass out so it was normal!

But he did start to worry when his skin darkened, and he could swear Green’s eyes were red. He couldn’t get a good look because he suddenly felt a sharp pain in the arm he was holding Green with.

The pain made him let go. It made his vision blur and he collapsed. It was agonizing. Green would definitely get a stern punishment for this!

He was just about to get back up and yell at Green for daring to hurt his new master, but when he looked up-

The- the thing starting down at him wasn’t human. No. It was huge, with glowing red eyes, black scales, grey horns, huge jaws, standing on two big feet (claws? Talons? He wasn’t sure what to call them) with four arms- no two more claws and two wings.

It was- it was some kind of monster. Like a demonic dragon.

-----

Lloyd wasn’t even sure what was going on. The man was now tiny, everything was, and he was frozen in terror. Good.

“Where are they!? Where are my brothers!? What did you do to them!?”

Silence. Everything was dark and silent.

“Where and Cole and Kai? Where. Are. They? Answer me!?”

-----

The creature's voice was familiar. Green? It sounded like him, but- more demonic. How did this happen?

“I- I won’t say! You- you will try to, to take them from- from me! They’re mine! My pets! They- they- you won’t take them!”

-----

The man was clearly not going to give an honest answer.

Well, it looks like Lloyd is just going to have to persuade him.

He raised his head and spread his wings. The darkness that surrounded him started to spread out around the two of them. Everything it touched- the grass, trees, flowers- withered away and perished. It slowly spread, careful not to touch the man. No- Lloyd won’t give him such an easy way out.

Soon the cloud surrounded them and it was pitch black, except for the red eyes and a tiny purple light shining from Lloyd’s chest. The light that slowly spread across his body. Across his chest, down his belly and back, all the way down his tail, up his wings, and slowly building it’s way up his neck towards his mouth.

It was a surge of destruction, fuelled by rage, a ticking bomb waiting to explode. He could feel the power building up, getting stronger.

All he had to do was open his mouth and he would be gone. It was so simple, yet he couldn’t get himself to do it. Not yet.

-----

Koshiro was frozen in horror as the creature started to glow, inching closer to him. He knew this beast wouldn’t hesitate to end him.

If it did-

No!

His pets would be left alone! Without their master! No, he couldn’t let that happen! He had to tell this beast where they were. Yes, he would end up in jail, but he could break out and rescue his pets the first chance he gets!

“They’re in my basement!”

The beast paused, now standing still, the light no longer growing.

“It’s- it’s a small house in the- in the Blackwood forest.”

The light from the creature started to fade out.

“It’s a two story wooden house on the north side of the village. The village is a few miles east from here! You can’t miss it!”

The light faded out completely, the only visible thing were the monsters glowing red eyes. It let out a horrifying chuckle.

“Thank you. But you didn’t really think you would get out of this so easily, did you?”

Before Koshiro realized what the creature meant by that, shadowy tentacles grabbed him and a purple light flashed and quickly found it’s way from the chest, up the neck and out of the beasts jaw.

He wasn’t sure what was worse, the cold from the tentacles or the heat of the destructive flame. The only thing he really cared about was what would happen to his precious pets now that he was gone.

———

Hope you enjoyed reading my shitty 2-3 AM sleep deprived fic because inspiration hits at the worst times!

Yes, Lloyd can transform into a demonic dragon. Koshi is gone. Lloyd managed to track down his house with the help of the scent of Koshiro's remains. They found and rescued Cole and Kai and lived happily ever after.

(Or, you know, happily for a few weeks before Ninjago got attacked again)

[c-is-for-circinate]

The Three Dragons, or, Repentence, Revelry, and the Hero Resolve (a tale of Onde)

So when I offered to go telling stories from my D&D game the other, I got several votes for the elves, and I wrote that one out, but several people were also very interested in the dragons, and, well.  The Hero Resolve is one of my very favorite not-technically-a-god-but-honestly-might-as-well-be NPCs in this game, and making up folklore for a world that doesn’t exist is pretty damn awesome, so--

Once upon a time, there were three evil dragons.

.

Things tend to come in threes in stories.  On Nokomoris, where the entire eastern side of the continent has been settled for tens of thousands of years by dwarves, gnomes, and humans, tales of people-in-threes are everywhere.  This tale in particular, which has been told and retold so many times in a million forms that it’s barely recognizable, is sometimes told about a dwarf, a gnome, and a human villain, a trio of bandits or thieves or murderers or the like.  It’s also sometimes told about three trolls, or three vampires, or three unwary foxes, or anything at all that might bring harm to a small village in the middle of nowhere.

The way the story is most truthfully told, the way that matches up, more than it doesn’t, with the world that actually happened--begins with three dragons.  They were all of them adults but far from old yet, and they lived together in the mountains somewhere, in one lair shared between the three of them.

The largest and strongest and proudest of them all was the black dragon.  His very favorite thing was to come roaring in to a village or farm and strike terror into every heart, to ravage and ruin it and leave half of it to spoiling without even taking it for himself, and send the survivors terrified away to tell tales of his power and glory.  He was, he knew in his heart, the very very best; and he was full of violence and wrath, but his greatest sin was pride.

The fastest and cleverest and most joyfully cruel of them all was the green dragon.  Her very favorite thing to do was to catch just a scant clawful of little squishy two-legged people, and promise their survival if they’d play her game and could win it.  She never played fair but sometimes she let them go, if they’d entertained her just exactly the right amount to tickle her happy.  The world was, she knew in her heart, the most wonderful toy to be played; she knew vengeance and anger, but her greatest sin was cruelty.

The third dragon, the blue dragon, was the youngest and smallest of the three.  They were not as strong or as fast as their friends, though they were sturdy (and any dragon is strong and fast enough.)  They were not as clever or as vain, but they were wise (and every dragon is smart and beautiful enough.)  They were, in fact, very much the most practical dragon of the trio, and very much the most beloved.

(But C, you say, that’s not how dragon stats compare in 5e at all.  It’s blue dragons with the high str and cha, black dragons with the high dex.  The adult blue dragon CR is higher than the others!)

(But y’all, I say--this is a fairytale.  And also not all chromatic dragons exactly match their written stat blocks.)

(Yes.  I said “not all chromatic dragons”.  Back to the story.)

The third dragon was the practical one, as I said, and was very much the one who made it possible for three adult dragons to live and hunt and pillage the countryside together instead of fighting each other to miserable pieces.  The blue dragon had seen very easily how the three dragons might fight, and might destroy one another in the process, or might go their separate ways and each take his or her or their own small patch of territory, to defend from heroes and larger dragons alike--or they could band together and rule and ravage the skies. 

The blue dragon made sure that when they chose which village to attack, it would be large and mighty enough to satisfy the black dragon’s vanity, and that they didn’t accidentally step on anybody interesting enough to satisfy the green dragon’s need for a challenge.  They made sure that any survivors left to spread their tales could not raise an army against them, or find the secret trails up the mountainside to the dragons’ shared lair.  They ate nearly every two-legged victim the green dragon might have let go.  Their greatest sin was callousness, for they cared about no one at all besides their two dragon companions, and them only barely at that.

And so the three dragons fought, and flew, and thought themselves invincible for many years.

.

Now, there’s another figure that’s a cornerstone of folk tales throughout Nokomoris, and that, my friends, is the Pretty Witch.  Oh, she’s a princess sometimes, buckled under by the weight of trying to protect her kingdom, but on the whole, princess stories never really took off around here.  The great romantic heroine of the ages is the village witch.

Usually she’s a druid or a sorceress, to go by d&d terms.  Sometimes, in the stories, she summons a fae or a demon or a celestial or an elemental from another plane to help her against some great threat, and they fall in love; other times she captures an enemy and keeps them in her hut, and they fall in love as she nurses them to health and also interrogates them for their evil plan; in yet other stories, a brave hero faces all the witch’s challenges and proves they can protect her.  Some of the best stories, of course, combine all three.

Most real village witches never reach such a fairytale happily-ever-after, of course, or even get past casting second- and third-level spells.  The vast majority of village witches are either old enough to be someone’s (or everyone’s) mother or too busy to be interested in most offers of romance, and plenty of them are both.  That part’s true enough of the witch in this story, too.

Her power, on the other hand...

Well.  There are always exceptions.

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The story says that one day as all three dragons swooped together onto a village on the edge of their territory, they watched a small woman step from a hut on the side of the village and raise a staff.  The story says that, mid-swoop, they began to feel themselves shrink--that the black dragon found his scales running together and turning soft and brown-pink-pale, and the green dragon found her claws growing short and weak and flat on her arms, and the blue dragon found their wings disappearing from their back even as they tried to pull up and fly away.

The story says that by the time the three dragons hit the ground, they were dragons no longer.  Every story argues, a bit, about what they were and which one was which, but--in every good bit of folklore about three people out in the world, there’s a dwarf, a gnome, and a human, so that must be what these three were here, right?

(It wasn’t, in reality--but it doesn’t really matter.   They were all people, soft and squishy two-leggers, and what does it change if all three were halflings or tieflings or even dragonborn, any more?)

They hit the ground on two legs each, naked and brown and pink and suddenly, for perhaps the first time in their long dragon lives, scared.  And all at once, they began to run.

(But C, you say--what about legendary resistances?  And anyway Polymorph is a concentration spell, one witch can’t cast it on three dragons at the same time anyway.  Hell, if they were swooping down on the village, fall damage alone should have knocked at least one of them out of it when they hit the--)

(Shhh, shh, I say.  It’s a story.  This isn’t how it really happened.  Of course it isn’t.  It really took days, or a team of adventurers, and probably both, and there were traps and wands and artifacts of all kinds that went into the doing.  This is only the version people tell each other--and it’s a better, shorter one, and lets us get to the rest of the story much quicker, usually.)

(But really, you say, even still, it’s just Polymorph--one good injury and they’d be right back to being themselves.  Surely three adult dragons would know enough about magic to realize that.  Surely one of them would be smart enough to try and injure themselves or one of the others to break it, right?  Maybe the blue one.)

(You have to let me get back to my story, for that.)

So--yes, yes, you’re right.  They all three of them hit the ground and fell immediately unconscious, how’s that?  Or perhaps only one of them did, but that was very much enough.  However it happened (and it must have been more than a thousand years ago, it must have been before Kera the Conqueror swept through the lands, must have been a thousand or two thousand years before your mother was born), however they fell, whatever they saw--the three ex-dragons did not become themselves again.  The spell did not break.

(Not even True Polymorph can do that, you say--

Yes, I say.  I know.)

(And why do we keep interrupting the story like this, anyway?)

(Well.  Because it’s a fairytale.  It’s the lore of legends.  This is a story to tell at bedtimes and campfires and long afternoons spent working with your hands while the children at your feet learn to spin yarn and shell beans and mend things.  This is the sort of story that’s meant to be told with interruptions.)

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The man who had once been the black dragon woke up, and discovered that he was still a man, and he fled.

He had no direction in mind; his head was clouded, and his eyes were weak, and his feet were soft and clawless and he had no wings at all, and he had never run across ground like this before in all the many years of his life.  He had no thought save escape, and he ran without stopping except to fall to his knees and drink from a nearby stream like a dog before he forced himself up to run again.

He collapsed, eventually, outside a woodcutter’s hut.  He could not even bestir himself when the woodcutter and his wife brought him inside to nurse him back to health.

It took a full week before he could do more than stand and hobble, and in that time the woodcutter’s family nursed him with nothing but kindness, and man who had once been a black dragon found himself struck to the heart by it.  He had done so many things in his time as a dragon that he had been proud of, but now it seemed that he was a person, weak and desperate, and would be for the rest of his life.  It was unthinkable that a mere woodcutter like this should nurse a great black dragon back to health.

It was unthinkable for a person to have done the things the man had done, when he was a dragon.  How could a man live in this world of men, having done such things?  How could he be proud of who he was?  And so, faced with the kindness of the woodcutter’s family, the man who’d once been the black dragon began to feel the most tremendous guilt that has ever been felt in all the world for the things he’d done.

(Oh? Do you doubt him?  But man, or dragon, or dwarf, or tabaxi, whatever he was--he’d always been the best.  If he couldn’t be the very best killer, he could at least be the best at guilt.)

He would atone, he decided.  He would atone for the rest of his life.

When the man who’d once been a dragon could stand and walk without pain, dressed in the woodcutter’s old clothes and boots, the woodcutter finally asked what his name was.

“Repentance,” the man said, and went on his way to seek it, and that was the last anybody ever saw of the great black dragon.

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(Oh, you think there’s more?  Of course there is.  A man appeared in the city to the south, and set himself to punishing every evil, including himself, however he could, and there are enough stories about him to last hours.  None of them are happy, of course--even when he found love, he could not allow it to bring him joy, because of course he deserved none.  And so the man Repentance found himself bringing sorrow even now to those who came to care about him most, caught in an endless loop of sin, and so he could never forgive himself or be redeemed, no matter what.  But at least he wasn’t a dragon.

Is that better?)

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The woman who had once been the green dragon was even now a little cleverer than her first friend, and when she stood and realized that she was still a woman and not a dragon at all, she fled with a goal in mind.

It took days of careful, desperate travel, but she knew all the secret paths back to their lair in the mountains, where the three dragons had kept all the wealth and weapons they’d claimed as treasure over the years.  The woman draped herself in finery that seemed coarser and fouler-smelling now than it had when she was enormous and beautiful without it.  She put on the armor she’d plucked from the backs of knights, and then took it off again when it was too heavy, and eventually she had dressed and armed herself and filled a pack with as many riches as her new weak arms could carry, and set off again before anyone else could arrive to find her.

She found a port, and made her way onto a ship, bound over the sea to a land that had never known her as anything but this.  She sailed for days, and planned out her future.

She had lost her claws and so much of her power, but the world was still built of games, was it not?  And she could still play, with money and cleverness and secrets.  She was beautiful, apparently, by the standards of people, even if she was so much less awesome and terrible than she’d once been.  She could make claws out of daggers and a life out of this.  She could be a lady, a thief, a queen.  She could make do.

(You think she should be despairing, vengeful, angry?  Woman or dragon, gnome or goliath, no matter what--she was always ready to carve joy out of any chest she could find.  Why not find it again?)

When she disembarked in the new land, the guard at the port asked for her name.  “Revelry,” she said, and went off to seek it, and that was the last anybody ever saw of the great green dragon.

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(Oh, it’s a parable now, is it?  Well.  What good folk story isn’t?

You want the rest?  She became a bandit queen and a baroness, and was feared and adored by many, and gathered riches and servants and lovers and secrets.  You could tell stories for days about the wicked and cruel exploits of the Baroness Revelry, and some of them would be sexy, and some of them would be fun, and some of them would leave you feeling queasy in the pit of your stomach afterwards, and in some of them, you’d be on her side.  After all, at least she wasn’t a dragon.

Is that enough?)

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When the person who had once been the blue dragon awoke, they saw the witch of the village.  They saw the look in her eyes.  They saw the deep forest, and their own new delicate feet and hands and bones, and the torches from the other villagers approaching.

They stayed put.

The witch stayed, too, and watched them, and when the townspeople arrived she sent them away.  The witch was a very long way from young, and not as beautiful as she should have been, for this to be a really good story, but--for all that, there was something of power in her eyes.

“What will you do now?” the witch asked of the person who had once been a blue dragon, who had not taken their own eyes from the witch’s face and her gnarled broomstick.

“I don’t know,” said the person who was not a dragon any longer, who did not see any benefit to lying.  “What would you have me do?”

They were both quiet for a long moment as the witch looked the ex-dragon over, with her thoughts as impenetrable as a witch’s mind ever are.  Then she said, “Come inside.  I have floors that need sweeping and wood that will need chopping for the winter.”

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The person who’d been a blue dragon slept on a pile of blankets on the witch’s floor.  The witch gave them chores to do in return.  They fetched water from the well, and scrubbed and cleaned, and learned to cook and tend a garden.  It was not a thing like being a dragon, except for all the wrong reasons.  The witch was small, and kind, and old, and not a bit of her was weak.  The no-longer-dragon had never known anyone as relentlessly practical as themself before.

Nearly every day people from the village would come by.  Some would come begging for help with colds and children and cows, and the witch was always kind to them, while her new lodger watched from the corner with sharp dragon-gold eyes.  Others would come with gifts, a few eggs here or a sack of flour there.  Sometimes the villagers with gifts had asked for help in the days before, and sometimes they hadn’t.

The person who was no longer a dragon asked questions, sometimes, and the witch would answer them, sometimes.

“Why do they bring you tribute?  Do you require it of them?”

“No,” said the witch, and, “they do it because it is kind, and right, and makes their world better in the long run.  Now go tend to the garden.”

Or, “Why do you not take over this village and half the countryside?  You have the power for it.”

“Because I do not wish it,” said the witch, and, “because they do not need me to, and because they and I are all happier that I do not.  Now go and tend the garden.”

Or, “Why are you kind to the ones who do not bring you gifts or tribute?  They do nothing for you, but you are generous to them.”

“Because,” said the witch, “it is kind, and I am able, and they are not, and that is what it means to be a person.  Now go and tend to the garden.”

Every time she answered a question, the witch would send them out to tend the garden.  The ex-dragon was careful with every plant, because it was only foolish to be careless with a witch’s garden, and learned to water every one exactly as much as it needed.  They learned to harvest berries and vegetables and herbs, and tend to the flowers and shrubs that produced nothing of any value, but only grew.  And they began, little by little, to understand.

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Eventually it was winter.  The witch showed the one-time blue dragon how to drag their blankets closer to the fire, and how to chop the firewood and bank it at night to keep it going so they would both stay warm, and all the other things that needed to be done with the world frozen in white.

There was no more work to do in the garden, but by then the no-longer-dragon’s questions had changed, too.

“Why did you turn me into this?”  The witch could have picked anything, after all--a rabbit or an insect or a stone, and never thought about it ever again.  But she had chosen a person, who could walk and talk and think and work.

“Because it would save this village,” the witch said.  “I had not a care for you at all.  Now come and learn this potion.”

Or, weeks later, “Why did the villagers forgive me?”  They still came every day, and nodded to the ex-dragon when they passed, and didn’t flinch to do it.  They were not witches.  They didn’t have her power.

“Because they don’t know who you are,” the witch said.  “Or because they know and don’t care, or because you have done them no harm since coming here, or because they are too dead to hold a grudge, or perhaps they haven’t forgiven you at all and are only pretending.  Now go and bring this amulet to the miller and his wife.”

Or, after even more weeks, when it was nearly spring--”Why did you let me stay?”

“You know the answer to that already,” said the witch.  The person who had once ravaged the entire countryside as a great evil blue dragon found that they did know, after all.  It was the same reason as the bushes with no berries and the amulet for the miller, and everything else, too.

“Is there a difference between a dragon and a person?” the dragon-who-wasn’t asked.  “Between a tiefling and an aasimar and a human?  Between anything at all?”

“You know the answer to that, too,” said the witch, and of course, of course they did, by now.  “Ask what you really want to know.”

“Do you care now?” the person asked.  “Do you care about me, even though you didn’t then?”

The witch’s hard face softened, then.  “Do you?” she asked in return.  “Have you learned to care, after all that?”

The person thought about needy bushes and hungry inchworms and a thousand trips to the well on foot, about tea with the miller’s wife and little brown eggs from the seamstress’s daughter.  They thought about whether they already knew the witch’s response to this question too, in their heart, and what it would mean if they were wrong.

“You know the answer to that,” the person who was a witch’s apprentice now said, because they had learned well, and because some things hurt too much to admit if they’re not returned.

Then the witch stepped forward, finally, and pulled them into her arms like a mother.  “You’re my own child, now,” she said.  “Everything changes.  The past only matters because it gave us what we have now.”

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(Does it seem too easy?  It’s not.  Growth never, ever is.

It took more than a summer and a winter, when it really happened.  It took more pain and more yelling and more doubt to build that trust.  But it did grow.  And the story’s tidier, like this.)

(And if the forgiveness here surprises you on either side, or the willingness to try, well--)

(Witches are practical down to their bones, and whether they use it to be cruel or kind or selfish or saviors-of-all is down to them, but they all know there’s no sense in discarding an outstretched hand when it’s offered.  It worked, this time, for the right people with just the right amount of neediness and hope.  Sometimes the world does that.)

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By the time summer came around again, the witch’s apprentice had had plenty of time to think and ponder and consider who they were to become.

The only difference between a dragon and a person was their shape, after all, so what was evil for a person must also be evil for a dragon.  What was wrong for a person must also be wrong for a dragon, and always had been, whether the dragon they’d been had known it or not.  So: they had done great evil, long ago and far away, and could not make it undone.  What next?

The witch, who was just as practical as her apprentice, sat and talked to them as they cooked and knit and worked potions and spells together in the hut all winter long, and by the time the world was warm again, the apprentice had made a decision.

“I can’t stay,” they said.  “I’ve done too much harm in the world.  I need to go out and do it good instead.”

“Because you think it will fix things?” the witch asked, to make sure, and also because she had grown to love her apprentice as her own child and did not want to see them leave, either.

“No,” said the apprentice, who had learned well.  “Because it’s kind and right and I’m able.”

“So be it,” said the witch, and hugged them close, and said, “Be Resolve, then, and return safe when you can.”

“Resolve,” the new druid said.  They went off not to seek it, for they’d already found it in their own heart, but to see it through.

And that was the last anybody ever saw of the blue dragon.

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And that’s the end of the story.

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(Well.  It’s an end.)

(Oh, you want to know about the Hero Resolve?  There are months‘ worth of stories about that, and you’d probably know a few dozen of them yourself already, if you lived in Nokomoris.  They all go more or less the same way, really.)

(The Hero Resolve arrives in a town, or a valley or kingdom or mountain or an island in the middle of the sea, and someone, somewhere, is suffering.  They find somebody with the power to do something about it.  It might be the sufferer themself, sometimes, but usually it’s not.  Maybe it’s the local lord who’s too distracted to notice the problem, or the local witch who’s too overwhelmed to cope.  Maybe the local bandits are too incompetent at stealing to provide for their children.  Resolve isn’t always picky in the way you’d expect, when they choose who to give advice.)

(The advice isn’t always easy to follow, mind you.  There’s hardly a good story in that.  But if they do follow Resolve’s suggestions--they’ll live happily ever after, eventually.)

(If not, Resolve will generally have to beat them up first, with shillelagh staff or beast form or just a bit of bare-handed cleverness, probably, depending on who’s telling the story.  But everyone else will live happily ever after anyway.)

(And that’s it.  That’s the Hero Resolve.  They roamed for years, back and forth across the continent, to every place you could ever name.  They fixed a lot of problems.  They probably took a couple levels in monk or something.  Every culture on Nokomoris has some variant on the Stubborn Hero stories if you ask.)

.

...

...

(Oh, you want more?)

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(Well then.)

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Once upon a time, as the Hero Resolve was out wandering the land, they came upon a rumor of a great evil on the other side of the sea.

(There, that’s how these stories are supposed to start, right?)

Since they had nothing else better to do that afternoon, they packed up their staff and their lunch and all their magic items, the bow with a string spun from spider-silk that could send an arrow through solid rock, the cloak that looked like a midsummer sky dyed with berries grown in water from the Spring of Life, and so on and so forth, as y’do.  They took a boat and sailed over to the kingdom on the other side of the sea and asked the crew and the passengers what they’d heard in these rumors about a cruel baroness who tormented the land with her powers, and pondered how they’d deal with the problem when they got there.

They had just about enough information to go looking for the Baroness’s castle when they disembarked in port, and found it in short enough order.  Some versions say they asked a magpie for help.  Other versions say the Baroness sent the magpie herself, to invite the renowned hero into her parlor, looking for another game or--

Or who knows what.  The important thing is that Resolve found themself ushered into a lavish entryway draped in silver and velvet, and from there into an even more lavish parlor draped in damask and gold, and then into an even more lavish dining room draped in platinum and silk.  They were still dressed in their sea-salt-stained traveling leathers, with their spidersilk bow and their sky blue cloak.  They had their iron knife at their belt, and their staff that had been a gift from the witch when they first left home, that looked like nothing so much as the gnarled stick of a broom with the bristles pulled off.  And there in the dining room of sumptuous luxury, they sat down to wait.

When the Baroness herself came in, she was--well, nobody is quite sure what she was, gnome or tiefling or even a tall graceful elf, in a world before elves.  She could have been dragonborn or human or one of the cat-people, bird-people, turtle-people from the south, who knows?  It’s different every time somebody tells the story.  Everybody agrees, though, on this: that she was as breathtakingly beautiful as a single moon on a pitch-dark night, and that her eyes glittered the color of gold.

Their eyes met, the Hero Resolve and the Baroness Revelry, two pairs of dragon-gold eyes in faces that should not have held them.  For one long, breathless moment, it was as though no time had passed at all, and then they fell into each others’ arms and hugged with arms they’d never had to put around each other before.

.

Resolve and Revelry slept that night curled up like lovers in Revelry’s enormous fur-draped bed.  They spoke, a little, about where and how and who they’d been in all the years since they’d seen each other.  They hid more.  The Great Hero Resolve had made a whole life out of seeing the end of the sort of deeds the Evil Baroness Revelry had made a life out of seeing done.  There was only so much they could admit to each other of themselves.

And yet...they were still both of them so very much themselves.  Revelry’s grin and sparkling wicked wit still brought Resolve to helpless laughter.  Resolve’s steadiness and dry understated insight warmed and calmed a thing in Revelry’s chest that had not been calm in so many years.  They had neither of them been quite this happy in all the time they’d been apart, and now, back with each other again, it seemed like the real loss hadn’t been their claws and fangs and wings at all.

Resolve was used to sleeping lightly and waking early.  The witch always rose with the sun, and it was only sensible for a hero on the road, whether they camped by the side of the road or in haylofts or let themself be made a guest of anywhere.  They opened their eyes with the first light of dawn, and looked down at the woman sleeping next to them, and thought about the sharp edge of their iron belt knife, which had killed fiends and monsters and people.

It would be simple, to do the job they’d come here to do.  They loved their oldest, dearest friend, of course they did, but--

How does an evil thing love?  It seemed impossible that Resolve could have ever really loved their dragon-companions, back when they were still a dragon, before they understood what love or evil or being a person even meant.  It seemed impossible for Resolve to still love her now, and if Revelry was still the same as she had been, how could she ever love anything at all in return?

The Hero Resolve felt the hilt of their knife on the floor beside the bed, and watched their long-lost heart’s companion sleep until Revelry opened her eyes, glinting golden in the morning sun.  And looking at those eyes, Resolve let the knife go, and promised themself that they would try again tomorrow.

That day they breakfasted together, and Revelry showed Resolve all the halls of her manor and all the gardens of her estate, and Resolve showed off some of their many shapes and forms, and they told longer and truer stories about their lives.  Resolve tried to grasp for their namesake every time they caught a glimpse of the evil in Revelry’s stories, again and again, all afternoon and all night.  They slept tangled together in the same bed again.

And so they lived for a week, with Resolve trying to find conviction within themself and failing, with Revelry discovering more joy in her long-lost friend than she’d felt in all the years in between, with Resolve’s iron knife tucked safely beneath their pillow in Revelry’s bed every night.

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On the seventh morning, Resolve got as far as drawing the knife in hand.  They’d thought a million times this week about attacking their old friend in the middle of the day, and every time they caught sight of those old familiar eyes, they lost the nerve.  Murdering a sleeping lover in her very bed...it was cowardly and dishonorable, of course, but it would be effective.  Effective mattered more than honorable.  Resolve had learned that from the witch all those years ago.

Results mattered more than intentions.  Fine, Resolve loved Revelry with so much of their heart that this might break them forevermore.  So what?  Revelry was a monster, a scourge on the land around her, a murderer and worse.  That mattered.  Resolve’s own heart would heal, or wouldn’t.  They’d slaughtered too many people in their own time for their feelings to be worth more than the lives of Revelry’s future victims now.

And yet, as they sat poised with knife in hand, watching Revelry sleep...once more, they hesitated.  And this time, when Revelry opened her eyes, she saw the knife before Resolve could tuck it away.

“Are you going to kill me, my love?” Revelry asked, as calmly as a still summer morning.

“Yes,” said Resolve.  “Yes I am, because whatever you are to me, you bring so much suffering to the rest of the world.  It’s kind and right to do this, and I’m able, and whatever else I am or ever have been, I choose to be a person.”

Revelry nodded a long, slow nod in the quiet of the room’s dawn light.  Resolve waited for her to grab for a weapon or a spell or Resolve’s own staff, for the Baroness had become quite a wizard in her own right in the time since they’d known each other last.  And they waited, poised and frozen, until Revelry said,

“Then I’ll let you.”

Resolve drew back in shock and confusion, and Revelry continued, “I’ve felt more joy this week with you than from any thing I’ve seen or done in all the years we’ve been apart.  I’d rather you kill me than watch you leave again.  I’d rather know I could at least make you happy.”

“This won’t make me happy,” Resolve snapped, with tears in their eyes.  “It has to be done, even if it does ruin me to do it, but that doesn’t make me happy about it.”

Revelry frowned, then, and for the first time began to reach below her own pillow.  “Really?”

“You know I love you,” said Resolve, and all in a flurry their iron knife met the rod Revelry kept tucked safely to hand in bed every night, just in case--though this hadn’t been the way she’d expected to use it.

“Then I can’t let you kill me,” Revelry said, rolling to her feet and facing off against the great hero now, both of them barely armed and dressed in bedclothes, squaring off with the enormous fur-draped bed between them.  “I love you too much to let anything make you miserable, including yourself, whatever you think about your morals now.”  And then they fell to fighting.

It was a strange, furious half-battle, both of them trying too hard not to hurt the other in spite of themselves, desperately working to keep their voices down before the servants of the house could hear and came running.  They twisted and fought, arguing the whole time--

“I can’t just let you keep doing the things you’ve always done!  You were given a chance at a whole new life, and still you’ve chosen to be a monster!”

“Why do you care about them?  What are any of them worth that you care more about them than yourself?”

“Because they’re people!  And I’m a person!  And so are you, but you don’t want to be!”

“If I stop tricking idiots to their deaths, will that make you happy?  And keep you from trying to do something ridiculous and self-destructive like murdering your own lover in the name of honor?”

“It doesn’t count if you’re only doing it to please me!  I can’t be the only thing in the whole world you care about!  Your entire morality can’t just be me!”

“Well why not?”

And they fell back, both of them panting and bloodied, in now-ragged night gowns, staring at each other from opposite sides of a destroyed room.

“I don’t care about torturing them,” said Revelry.  “It’s fun.  I don’t care if it makes me evil, I don’t care about them or their feelings or their stupid little lives, but I care about you.  I’ll stop it all, if you ask me to.”

“This is a terrible foundation for a relationship,” Resolve said.  “But fine.”

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(Yes, I’m taking liberties with the story.  Know your audience, they say.  Most of the time that bit’s just a lot of arguing, or more violent and less dramatic or romantic depending on who’s telling it, but who doesn’t love a good half-naked sword fight?  Why ruin the tattered nightgowns thinking about the fact that the two major participants are mainly caster-classes, anyway?)

(One of them is clearly an illogical idiot, you say.  Fair enough, but let’s table the discussion there before you and your neighbors get into your own virtual brawl over which one it is.  They’re both illogical idiots.  That’s how love--and fairytales-- work.)

(Want a life lesson from this one?  Don’t turn a single person into your entire moral compass and your whole world.  Also, don’t try to force yourself to stab the person you’re in love with for the Greater Good.  None of this exactly how it actually went, and it only worked out in the end with a whole lot of luck and a lot more hard work than we have time and space for here.  This is a fairytale.  It’s not meant to be exact history.)

(But yes, from me to you--it did really end happily-ever-after, even when it actually happened.  Or at least, as-happily-as-ever, which is about as good as real life ever gets.)

.

In the end, Resolve and Revelry slipped off in the middle of the afternoon, without a single word to the servants or any sign of their going.  Revelry brought a single small bag of tools and treasure, less even than she’d taken from her old hoard when she first began this life, and they boarded a boat back across the sea under fake names, with secret grins that threatened to burst out into laughter at every moment.

Resolve brought Revelry back to the home of the witch who they still called Mother, and introduced her by name, and did not explain the details of their past, although the witch was canny and clever and figured it out right away anyway.  Eventually, when Resolve ventured forth across the land once again, Revelry came with them, and together they learned to turn saving-the-world into a game interesting enough to keep Revelry’s attention even when Resolve wasn’t watching them at every moment.  She never did quite learn to embrace guilt or regret, but she grew to find a soft spot for scrappy, clever underdogs who just needed half a chance to learn to fight.

They did eventually come to the city where the man Repentance lived and worked, and met him and embraced him again, for a while.  He still remembered his love for the blue dragon, but he could not forgive his one-time companions for their pasts any more than he could forgive himself.  Revelry, at least, was easy for him to condemn and hate, but most especially he could not understand how Resolve might have come to see the evil of their past crimes and yet still willingly laugh and live and find joy in it all anyway.  In the end they parted ways quickly, for while they all three of them now sought to bring good to the world, Resolve and Revelry chose to pursue it through happiness and hope, and Repentence could only see regret.

And so they traveled on for many years, and lived very nearly happily for very nearly forever after, and that’s all there is to the story of the Hero Resolve and the Baroness Revelry.

.

The end.

.

(No, I mean it this time.)

.

(Look, that’s the end of the story!  There’s plenty of other little side-stories and folktales in there, but whenever anybody on Onde actually tells this story, this is where it ends.  That’s how it goes!)

(Yes, I mean it.)

(Yes, I realize I've said that these are two extremely high-level spellcasters, both of whom remember spending centuries of their lives as nigh-immortal dragons and one of whom has barely found enough of a sense of right and wrong to qualify as Chaotic Neutral.  And I’m suggesting they lived out the rest of their short natural lives as a couple of flightless humanoids and never found a way to correct their lives or forms.  And they never ran into any desperate tragedy of disparate species lifespans, or had to deal with archdruid timeless body, or--)

(Yes.  Yes, I did say at the beginning of the post that this was the story of my very favorite near-godlike NPC, but--)

.

(Okay.  Okay, fine.)

(There’s one more thing to know.)

(This isn’t part of the story, though, so don’t go spreading it around.  Nobody on Onde knows this part, except for those that do.  And that’s a story for a very different day.)

.

True Polymorph is a ninth-level spell.  It can transform any willing wizard or druid who’s already at a high enough level to cast it into a fully-grown adult green or blue dragon with ease.  It’s permanent, if you concentrate on it for a full hour.  And dragons can cast spells, even the sorts of spells that would let them turn back into an old humanoid form that’s gotten comfortable and familiar, and maybe they rarely learn to do much in the first thousand years or so of life, but most dragons aren’t forced to live as humanoids for a couple of decades or centuries to figure out how, so--

Well.  True Polymorph lasts without being concentrated on, anyway, once it sticks, but--even it doesn’t tend to hold up well to dropping to zero hit points or running afoul of a Dispel Magic, after a while.

(Yes, the RAW are ambiguous, here.  And?  This is Onde.  True Polymorph can guide the world into holding a new shape indefinitely, but it can’t rewrite the truth of existence.)

A fully-grown adult dragon may not find themself reduced to zero hit points all that often, but Resolve and Revelry weren’t about to give up adventuring just to return to their old forms forever.  Dispel could get...awkward.  There had to be a safer way, didn’t there?

“How did you make it stay?” Resolve asked the witch, so many years later that even an archdruid such as the witch had become old.  She shook her head.

“There’s a spell,” she said.  “With components I never saw in all my life before or since.  They’re long gone now.”

(Was it a spell?  Was it a one-use spell scroll, enchanted in centuries gone by and long forgotten?  Was it a magic item?)

(Does the nature of the MacGuffin matter, in the end, or just its effect?)

“But the spell exists” said Resolve--and, well, what are heroes for if not tracking down mysteries and finding components?  Plane-shifting to gather sap from the forests of the gods, or the bones of every material plane, or the dust from the plains below Sigil itself, or--well.  Does that matter, either, the how?

It’s very difficult to tell a legendary hero that there’s no way.

.

(They transformed the man Repentance back, too, when they changed themselves.  It took them two days to hunt him down and slaughter him, two dragons against one, when he decided that it was his duty as a dragon again to do exactly the thing that dragons were for.)

(It goes like that, sometimes.  Not every redemption arc quite works.  You can tell yourself that he let his oldest companions rip his throat out, in the end, out of the last shards of love for them or horror at what he’d become.  It might be true.)

(Everybody learns.  What they learn, on the other hand, is entirely up to them.)

.

There are people to the west of the Western Wall mountains, in the dragonlands where all colors of dragon are common, and known, and feared, who tell a story about a high valley in the dry lands of the peaks, surrounded by dense pine forests and bare dust-blasted stone and open sky.  If you need something--if you truly need something, and you’re desperate enough to do what it takes to get it, you can climb up there looking and ask.

You’ll get advice from somebody, if you’re lucky, if you can make it past the storms and the woods and the heights up the secret paths to get there.  Follow it no matter what, however hard it is, and things will turn out happily ever after for you in the end.  If you reject the advice, things will turn out happily ever after for someone, probably, but there’s a good chance you’ll get your ass kicked on top of the problems you already had, first.

It’s not a bad place to retire, when you’re old and enormous enough to call yourself truly Ancient.  Ruling the whole world is a nice idea to toss around every couple of decades, but really, it’s such a lot of work, and--really, it’s enough of a job just being your wife’s conscience (or letting your spouse be your conscience), let alone taking on an entire planet full of other people too.  Better, really, to let things go along on their own way.

It’s not a bad place to raise children up here, either.  Oh, there’s plenty of bloodlust and rage in most wyrmlings of any color, but--what’s bloodlust and rage got to do with anything?  How is anyone supposed to learn how to be a person, without somebody there to teach them that they are?

They go their own way, when they’re old enough, and some of them for the better and some of them for the worse, but--

Well.  That really is beyond the end of this story.  There’s no telling what hasn’t happened yet.

.

As to ‘happily-ever-after’...

That’s a fairytale ending, of course.  Resolve and Revelry have been to the feywild plenty enough times to know a fair few fairy tales direct from the source themselves, but at this point, we’re not really telling a campfire bedtime story any more, is it?  Now it’s just backstory for a couple of NPCs who are still alive.  They’re as happy as any old married couple who’s had centuries to grow into each other.

They’re not quite gods, because even an ancient dragon with an archwizard’s spellbook or an archdruid’s control is still a creature of flesh and blood and bone, and mortal in their own way.  Some villain or hero or furious ex-student, some god or quest or just old age and ennui will get them eventually.  No telling how, though, or when.  No telling what might happen in the mean time.

No telling when the Hero Resolve might pull on a different shape and go on walkabout for another few years once again, with or without their love at their side, and see what they’re able to do for the world.

[just-random-obsessions]

Funny Moments In Thor Ragnarök

Thor 1

Thor 2

Avengers 1

I know I said I was gonna do Avengers Age of Ultron too, but because it didn’t have Loki in it, I decided to scrap that idea because this series is mostly focused on the relationship between Loki and Thor. So without further ado, all the funny moments in Thor Ragnarök. Side note: This accounts for all the moments were SUPPOSED to be funny. However these are mostly toilet humor, so whether or not it was actually funny to the viewer just depends on that person’s taste in humor. Funny moments listed below cut line which is underneath the tag list.

Edit for clarification: This is not a post supporting Thor Ragnarok. This is an anti post. In another post (that I’m too lazy to write right now) I will be explaining the difference in humor tones between this movie and the previous three. I will also be explaining why this tonal change is hated by anti Ragnarok people.

Tag List: @fyrecrafted @lokijiro @nikkoliferous @miskiett @icyxmischief @iamanartichoke @juliabohemian @official-and-unstable-satan @darthxerik @melodylnoelle @just-another-human-2019 @fandomsandfanfictions @mentallydatingahotcelebrity @cateyes315 @burningarbiterheart @imnotacreepijustlikeyou @usedtobegoodfriend96 @alexakeyloveloki

~ “Where I met you :)” *skeleton’s jaw drops*

~ “Surtr. Son of...a bitch you’re still alive?!”

~ *The chain keeps spinning Thor around and interrupting Surtr

~ “And you’ll grow as big as a house-?” “A mOuNtAiN” 

~ “Oh that’s a crown. I thought it was a big eyebrow”

~ *Thor’s timing being wrong when he says “that’s what heroes do”

~ “oh I make grave mistakes all the time. Everything seems- *shit that’s a bg dragon* -to work out”

~ “Behold!!! My stuff!

~ *Pronounces Texas wrong*

~ “I call them Des and Troy. Together, they Destroy”

~ *Thor drops the hammer in the dragon’s mouth* “Stay!”

~ *The entire Asgardian play*

~ *The woman in the audience emotionally grabbing Thor’s arm*

~ *Thor being all wtf???*

~ “Father” “Oh shit”

~ *that smile!!!* 

~ *Out of breath* “Behold!! Thor! Odinso-” “You had one job”

~ “I swear I left him right here” “right here on the sidewalk or right here where the building’s being demolished?”

~ “Can’t see into the future. I’m not a witch” “No? Then why do you dress like one?” “hEy!!!1!!!1!!”

~ “I can’t believe you’re alive. I mourned you! I cried for you!” “I’m honored??”

~ *the two girls who approach Thor to take a selfie*

~ “Sorry to hear that Jane dumped you” “She didn’t dump me. I dumped her. It was a mutual dumping”

~ *Thor poking the piece of paper cause he thinks it’s Loki*

~ “You can put down the umbrella”

~ “So Earth has wizards now” “The preferred term is Master of the Mystic Arts” “Alright wizard”

~ *Thor fumbling with the cool spikey things*

~ “I don’t drink tea” “Well what do you drink?” “Not tea”

~*the self-refilling beer*

~ “No I don’t have a phone but you could’ve sent an electronic letter. It’s called an email” “Right do you have a computer?” “No what for?” *confusion*

~ “My hair is not to be meddled with-OW!!!!”

~ “We could’ve just walked”

~ “Don’t forget your umbrella” *the awkwardness between them as everything crashes*

~ “I hAvE bEeN fAlLiNg FoR tHiRtY mInUtEs!!!!1!!1!!!!”

~ I’m pretty sure Odin’s death scene was the only scene to not have any humor in it.

~ “Who are you?” “I’m just the janitor”

~ *Valkyrie tries to do the Badass Walk but falls off the edge*

~ *Val keeps stumbling*

~ “But we’ve already got him” “Alright then. I guess I go through you”

~ *The guns not working at first*

~ *Val’s smirk*

~ *Thor’s mashed up face on the window of the ship*

~ “Whoever you are.” “Whoever I am?! Did you listen to a word I said?!”

~ *Thor’s scared screaming turned into a confused and awkward screaming as he is introduced to the Grandmaster*

~ “He’s wonderful. It is a he?” “It is a he”

~ “She is the- and it starts with a b” “Trash” “Were you just waiting to call her that? It doesn’t start with a b” “Booze-head”

~ “You’ll pay for this” “No I got payed for this”

~ “I am the god of THUNDER” *sparkles*

~ “OH MY GOD I’m stepping in it!!!”

~ “I’m going back to Asgard.” “Assgard?”

~ “Loki!” “Shhh!”

~ *Loki and Thor start arguing*

~ “Get me out!” “I can’t!” “Get me out!” “I can’t!”

~ “I’ve never met this man in my life” “He’s my brother” “Adopted”

~ “Let me introduce myself my name is Korg. I’m kinda like the leader in here”

~ “I tried to start a revolutions but I didn’t print enough pamphlets”

~ “Oh no. Doug’s dead”

~ “That’s exactly what Doug used to say. See you later New Doug”

~ Infinity Gauntlet: “Fake!!”

~ Casket: “Weak!”

~ Surtr’s Crown: “Smaller than I though it would be”

~ *Thor throwing rocks at Loki*

~ “Piss off ghost!!”

~ “It would pull me off-” “Oh my god. The hammer pulled you off?” 

~ *Thor fumbling with talkin to Val and doing the thumbs up*

~ “By Odin’s beard you shall not cut my hair” *2 seconds later* “Please kind sir do not cut my hair”

~ “I have to get off this planet” 

~ “Loki! Look who it is!” *NOPENOPENOPENOPENOPENOPENOPENOPENO

PENOPENOPENOPENOPENOPENOPENOPENOPENOPENOPENOPENOPE

NOPENOPENOPENOPE

~ *Thor gets whacked around like Loki did in Avengers* “YES!!! THATS HOW IT FEELS*

~ “Not just to execute people, but also to execute their vision. But mainly to execute people”

~ *Hulk being naked in the hot tub* “That’s in my brain now”

~ “What are you crazy?!” “YES”

~  “Hulk like fire. Thor like water”

~ *Thor stumbling around Val again*

~ “Because that’s what heroes-” *gets bonked in the head with the ball*

~ *the voice activation being “Point Break”*

~ “What happened to your hair?” “Some creepy old man cut it off” “It looks good”

~ “Banner” “Welcom strongest Avenger” “Uhhh what?”

~ “You and I had a fight “ “Did I win?” “No I won” “That doesn’t sound right”

~ *Topaz trying to hand the Grandmaster the meltsick*

~ “I don’t wanna fight your sister that’s a family issue”

~ *Thor and Bruce arguing like children*

~ “It’s my disguise” “I can see your face” “Not when I do this”

~ *Bruce complimenting Valkyrie*

~ *Thor stealing the name Revengers from the Avengers*

~ “Where are you at these days?” “It varies from moment to moment” *NOPE*

~ “We are going through the big one” “The Devil’s Anus?!”

~ “I’m asking for safe passage. Through the Anus”

~ *The snake story* 

~ “You guys have a beast :D?!!!!”

~ *”I’ll explain later”*

~ “I don’t like that word” “Mainframe?”

~ *Thor and Loki step out of the elevator* “Hello” “Hi”

~ *get help*

~ “Alright I can figure this out it’s just another spaceship”

~ “Did she just say the Grandmaster uses it for orgies?!!” “Yeah. Don’t touch anything”

~ “Use one of your PhD’s” “None of them aRe FoR FLYING ALIEN SPACESHIPS”

~ “Well you do seem like you’re in desperate need of leadership” “Why thank you” 

~ “Not that [Asgard’s] not nice it’s just that it’s on fire”

~ “I love what you’ve done with the place. Redecorating I see”

~ *heroic music plays* *Bruce falls flat on his face*

~ “I’m Korg. This is Miek. We’re gonna jump on that spaceship. Wanna come?”

~ “Your savior is here!!! Did you miss me?”

~ “You’re late” “You’re missing an eye” 

~ “I think we should disband the Revengers”

~ “Hit her with a lightning blast” “I just hit her with the biggest lightning blast in the history of lightning”

~ “So what do we do?” “I’m not doing Get Help”

~ “You can’t defeat me” “I know. But he can”

~ “We’re fulfilling the prophecy” “I hate this prophecy”

~ “For once in your life! Don’t smash!” “Big monster?!” 

~ “It will become a haven-” *Asgard explodes* “Yeah no sorry”

~ “Oh Mieks dead. Yeah I stomped on him on the bridge. I felt so guilty I’ve been carrying him around all day.” *2 seconds later* “Oh Miek you’re alive!! He;s alive guys!! What was your question?”

~ “Do you really think it’s a good idea to go back to earth?” “Yes of course, the people of Earth love me”

I FINALLY FINISHED IT!!!!!

[daggery]

descendants snow day crackfic thing. core four + ben. this excerpt is mostly mal and carlos plus some jay.

sdlfjsdlkjf i peeked at some of my old wips and i have this 7k malvie/jaylos snow day fluff thing from december and lowkey my own writing from months ago made me smile hshshsdhjdshfjsk uhh have this out of context excerpt ft. marlos and jaylos being assholes at each other smiley face. also SHHH face squishing is a valid conversation topic do not look at me.

It starts with the topic of snowball fights, but eventually, their conversation wanders back to the topic of face squishing.

“It’s the baby fat,” says Evie, loud enough for Carlos and Jay, who have respectively turned to making a snow angel and critiquing said snow angel, to hear.

Carlos sits up and scowls.

“I’m only one year younger than you guys,” he objects, “and besides, I’m taller than Mal. Mal’s the baby.” He pokes Jay. “Go and squash her face instead.”

Jay pokes him back. “Maybe I will.”

“Jay, no, I was kidding. She’ll bite your head off.”

“I agree with Carlos,” Mal calls.

“Yeah, okay. But I wouldn’t want to anyway,” Jay says. “Carlos is cuter.”

“Yup,” Carlos says, then considers the implications of his agreement and adds, “That wasn’t permission. But you’re still right.”

“I do not agree with Carlos,” Mal says, and aims a scowl and two handfuls of snow at his head. Both land short. Carlos directs a bright smile in Mal’s direction, but it disappears within the next moment when Jay tosses his own bored handful of snow at Carlos’s face. Just like that, the truce is off.

Carlos yelps and flails with the same vigor as the time Jay somehow snuck the creepiest fucking scarecrow into their dorm only to park it right in front of the bathroom door while Carlos was showering. (When Carlos opened the door, ready to dive onto his bed, he discovered that creepy scarecrow also had the creepiest fucking laugh, recorded and triggered with the press of a button. Carlos got Jay back later in an eventful incident which involved soapy water, lots of toppling over, and a newly cleaned floor. There were some unfortunate collateral casualties.)

Smacking Jay’s hands away, Carlos jumps up to run and hide behind Ben.

Ben laughs his chuckling laugh, Evie’s eyes get their familiar twinkle, and Mal does the eye-rolling routine she saves for whenever she thinks somebody’s being ridiculous and she wants them to know it, but she also thinks they’re being cute and she doesn’t want them to know it.

To distract them from this fact, Mal crosses her arms and says, “Since when did Carlos get taller than me? Where’s the runt I used to know and lo-”

Carlos pokes his head out from behind Ben. “I’m looking straight at her.” He sticks his tongue out, then withdraws to hunker down again.

She whips her head around to stare at him and also so she can inform him, “I can transform into a dragon.”

“I dunno, I mean, look at Maleficent,” Carlos says, because they all can afford to make fun of Maleficent now, and he has decided to take full advantage of the situation. “Didn’t you stick her in a shoebox?”

“Wanna go?”

The look in Mal’s eyes says that she is puffing up her chest, but it’s difficult to tell beneath all of the winter coat. Evie sighs and looks up at the sky. Ben is kind and a skilled human shield.

Carlos is unperturbed in the face of Mal’s threat to turn into a giant dragon and possibly burn him to a crisp. “Baby draaaagon,” he stage-whispers. “Baby.”

While Evie frowns at him and tries to figure out if he has crossed a line by using, though it was mockingly, her nickname of choice for her girlfriend - and if he has, then whether it requires any intervention - Mal stands and splutters in the face of the nickname. “Nerd,” she finally says with a wrinkle of her nose and begrudging laughter in her eyes.

Carlos cackles, loud and brilliant, because he knows he’s won. He is bright eyes, bright smile, bright spirit. In this moment, it feels as though whatever memories of the Isle were left could melt away as easily as chills do before a fireplace.

Auradon has been good to him.

[willowkeyes-creates]

A Brothers Smile

This is what happens when I get an idea, write, and have absolutely no idea what I’m doing. Hopefully it’s somewhat decent. Brotherly Creativitwins hurt/comfort.

Warnings: Blood, broken bones, tinnitus mention, Remus mentions drawing dorks, angst, hurt/comfort, open ended but I like to think that it ends up okay

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

Remus ran as fast as his body allowed. His legs ached as he willed them to keep him moving through the Imagination. His chest burned as his eyes stung with unshed tears. His torso still hurt from the sudden pains he had gotten but those pains have been forgotten now.

He should have been there. Thomas had loads of intrusive thoughts during and after the wedding; it would have been easy to join the conversation. But no, he wanted to give Roman a break. He may argue with him, tell him that he's evil and disgusting and bad... But there are no other Sides that understand Remus like Roman does. They don't understand what it's like to be half of a whole.

They don't understand what it's like to be able to feel your brother dying with whatever magic links them together.

Remus passes the foul-smelling swamp, the burnt meadows, the forest with trees so thick you'd get lost within an instant. He follows the array of colours in the sky that all head in one direction; the dragons from both sides of the Imagination wanting to help their creators as much as they can. He doesn’t remember calling them, but he won’t send them away. They’re the last things that he and Roman had made together. 

Dark blue scales with wings that shine and glow like the sky on a light-pollutant free night. They fly above and watch the Duke; more curious of him than of their destination.

Stormy purple dragons that are as fast as lightning zip across the sky; scaring away any animals or creatures that may interfere. They don’t get close to their creators, being the timid creatures they are. Remus always feels their piercing eyes on him though.

The bright yellow dragons are his beacon. They show the way; hanging lower than the others in case the Duke has need of them. He won't and they know this, but they do so anyway. These ones have always been their stubborn yet loyal protectors.

Ahead sit a crowd of smaller, baby blue dragons with fur barely visible on the ligaments of their wings. They light up the area with their very presence; creating a path for the tired Duke that feels warm and comforting. Or, it tries to be. The blood seeping into the rocky path seems to absorb whatever comfort the creations could bring.

His brother lays in the middle of the path; bloodied and broken. His arm is at an angle that anyone would grimace at; even Remus. His face is covered in that one red that he knows that the Prince isn't overly fond of. It's already beginning to dry. Claw marks sit across his chest, staining his perfectly white attire while his sash lays missing from sight. 

His katana lays in pieces beside him. Broken and bloodied; just like it's owner.

"Roman. Roman, please." He knows that he hasn't sounded this destroyed in years. Not since Roman left him. And yet, he holds the one who left him close as his green magic crackles around the both of them. It sounds like tinnitus; a constant ringing in one’s ears that never seems to go away. He tries listening to Roman’s breathing instead, but the wheezing and periodic gasping only makes his eye shadow smudge across his cheeks.

It feels like hours after having found his brother had the green turned into a gentle pink. Magic that Remus hasn’t seen in a millennia. It feels as old as time itself to him, and perhaps it is. His time did begin when pink had split into green and red.

"G-Good... You... You're alive... You're not allowed to die on me..."

"Tired..." The Duke sniffs and wipes his thumb across his brother's cheek, getting rid of those pesky tears that ruin his face. He's supposed to be the pretty one; he'll help him out with that this one time. He'll draw a dork or two on his face later to make up for it. He’ll get yelled at, maybe even chased across the Mindscape if he’s lucky. It’d be a miracle if he also got to hear his laugh mix with Roman’s once more.

"I-I know. It's okay to be tired."

"... 'M sorry..."

"Me too, bro. I'm here now. It's okay."

His heart doesn't stop hurting when those bright green eyes seem to smile at him; it only begins to undo it's tight coils when he hears that delicious snap of a bone being put back into place. The scream that came with it... wasn't as nice. 

"Shhh... I've got you... Get some sleep, Ro."

"I... 'm s-scared..."

He should destroy everything. Roman was supposed to be brave and daring and dashing and whatever other cheesy things that Thomas likes; not beaten and bloody and crying into his brother’s chest from all of this pain. Mental. Physical. Both. Maybe even other types. Who knows- Who fucking cares!? Everything should burn and bleed for doing this to his brother. To his blood. His other half.

"I'm not going anywhere. You c-can't get rid of me that easily, Ro..!" His words aren't as sharp and annoying as usual, but that's fine. The smile that his brother gets as the baby blue dragons curl around them and a flurry of the comforting colours dances overhead is worth it. That's all he wants. That's all he's ever wanted.

"... I’m… I’m glad..."

He just wants his brother to smile.

[katsukikitten]

Princess 3

Reluctantly you follow the Ash blonde. He could prove useful what with his dragon and quick reflexes. He must also have a use for you.

Considering he's already saved you once.

You follow through a sandy field lush with small grass, that grows thicker the more you walk.

You can still hear the ocean's call, the smell of salt air, your body tingles from the amount of moisture in the air.

You could be even more deadly here. A cat smile forms on your lips only to be replaced by a wince.

Blood red eyes flicker to you, stopping to allow you to catch up, a muscled arm slips around your waist.

"I can walk!" You protest but he hushs you with a hiss.

"I'm not carrying you now am I Princess?"

"Stop. Calling. Me. That." You bite out each word and he just gives a nasty smirk, leaning in close.

"Is that not your title *Princess?*" A feral growl.

You pause for a moment because if you hadn't...well whose to say that King Bakugou Katsuki of the Bad Lands wouldn't be dead right now?

You begin to wonder just how far away the city is and if your bleeding calf really can handle another step until you see the outskirts of a peculiar city.

Your eyes rove over the vast amount of movable homes, your eyes widen at their beautifully tanned canvas, the sides covered in paintings.

Paintings of the royal family, the former queen already has her radiant halo, you watch as a few artists carefully paint it around his father.

Your eyes find his face but it does not falter. He marches on, hand squeezing your ribs when you slow to take in the scenery.

"Quick fucking gawking." He whispers in your ear, "The more they stare the more danger you'll be in."

Danger, no one was even looking at you.

Or you were so absorbed in this movable city that you failed to notice that every pair of eyes *was* on you.

You return the questionable glares with an intensity unmatched. Most look away but some do not. You snort having half a mind to make their eyes explode in their heads for such disrespect.

Considering you've done more for less but you can respect the gall.

Most of the citizens wore a variety of outfits but all had a common theme. Mobility should a fight break out. You smile at the thought, even the women wore pants to move easily in, all of them draped in blacks, deep blood reds, golds and greys. Some had weapons that shined in the fading daylight while others had theirs brandished always.

Flexing their weapons as they moved paint, canvas, traded money for goods.

Katsuki brought you through a large chaotic market with yelling and haggling. Some shop keepers even showing off their quirks to customers who solicited too long with out buying. It all stops for a moment to give a curt nod to the king before it resumes. Cats chase miniature dragons through the alleys of the stalls, children laugh loudly as they play. Your eyes take in the culture hungrily, greedily as they've only ever seen other cultures after war.

Alter, diluted, destroyed.

He pushes you faster though they all have some sort of offering as he passes by, all of which he ignores.

"Ahem, your majesty." The man at the last stall clears his throat. Dark eyes cut to the older man with malice as he stops. His wrinkled hands hold out a set of folded clothes. Black with a collar of white fur.

At first you think them for Bakugo, it's the same white fur he has on his vest and no other garment in the whole open market had a hint of any sort of animal skin aside from decorative scales.

His merlot eyes narrow, focusing on the set of clothing.

"I may be speaking out of turn your expolisve greatness but I do believe the future queen will need a fresh set of clothes, considering hers are torn and that of the enemy." He smiles, urging them closer.

You laugh aloud.

"You must be getting senile in your old age but know that I will be *no one's* bride." You say so sharply that the whole market grows quiet. Straining their ears to listen, Bakugo keeps his eyes fixed upon the graying man who's smile only widens.

"Ah almost verbatim of my dream. This woman knows no fear, sire, you've seen that today haven't you? A fiery Queen for a fiery King. You two will always have passion for one another. If you remember my wife blessed every stitch of your vest, for luck, prosperity, fortune. Fortune to find a strong woman worthy of our people." He places the garment down on the left hand corner in a golden outlined box, the same that every other stand has, "Just as your vest these are blessed too. Luck, fortune, fertility and strength. "

Still the King does not speak and still you cannot fathom this older man's audacity.

To bless a garment for fertility, you seethe and just as you're about to rip him to shreds, whether it be from your tongue or your hands, the King let's out a low growl.

"I accept your offering." He bites out, grabbing onto the clothes. The older man bows deeply.

"An honor." He replys as your dragged from the market.

What the fuck?

You pull away from his grip, careful to keep your weight off of your now bad leg.

"What the hell was that?" You snarl, sure to still be heard in the market as you hear an elderly man laugh.

"There are somethings you do not understand about my people and my culture." A hiss close to your face, he inspects it for a moment and you feel light headed. He grabs onto your wrist tightly, tugging you up a small hill to the only white home, what you later find out is called a yurt, in the whole encampment.

"I swear to Kami himfuckingself if you are not in my home Ashido with the fucking captive doctor I'll hang you for all to see." He snarls, pulling harshly on the canvas revealing two women sitting atop low chairs. If one of them is captive you cannot tell which as your eyes study the women, they both have relaxed dementors. Both with creamy, healthy skin, one white and the other a peony pink.

The thought of women in his home pulls at your gut stupidly before you bite your mostly split lip.

"Oh!" They seem to say in unison, bowing before the king.

The yurt is circular but all can be seen from the entrance. Rich wood expands across the floor covered in various furs, pillows and low sitting furniture and chairs. Centered in the back is a bed atop a platform looking plush as it is also draped in cotton blankets and furs.

Sleep pulls at your muscles but you fight it. Sitting when guided to a dark wood chair with blood red upholstery.

Good thing as you're losing a hefty amount again. It drips fat drops onto the fabric and floor. The woman with white skin and dark hair inspects you, trying and failing to keep the horror off of her face as she looks at your own.

She prepares and cleans quickly taking no time to start the process of stitching.

"So when did you become king?" Because talking to this asshole was more bearable then feeling a needle pierce your already throbbing, screaming skin.

"Shhh." The woman hushs, "You need to keep your face still."

You roll your eyes before watching the now brooding King. He walks past the wooden tub to your left all the way to a low cabinet where he produces a dark liquid.

You'd kill for a drink as you watch him take a long swig.

"Ow what the? No dont! FUCK!" But it's too late, pink fingers are already half digit deep in your open wound before you grip onto her wrist tightly enough that her bones groan, "His arrows embed themselves deeper if the victim doesn't remove it themselves."

Fear grips her features, as she pulls on her arm, hard enough you hear her shoulder pop before you let her go. Anger fuels your fluid movements as you call upon your power. Moving your own blood to push itself from the wound. The crimson arrow head stains the grains of wood and the ash blonde's eyes narrow.

"Please be still!" The doctor urges, stating her work again.

"Better listen Princess or I'll ask her to sew your mouth shut." An idle threat that boils your blood, "I'll offer you a different story instead. One that I heard at dinner not too long ago."

You cannot protest and he goes on.

"I heard that the High Queen has more than just a calming quirk." He pulls up a chair and sits just in your sight line. You sigh out angrily at the idea of hearing this theory again except coming from the mouth if the worlds biggest ass.

"I heard she can manipulate feelings as well. Otherwise how else would a hand maid marry the only male heir to the kingdom?"

"Do not slander her." Your eyes narrow to slits as they meet those of a predator.

"Quiet." The raven haired woman hisses.

"Snap at me once more and you will not have such pretty hands to sew with, or such shining eyes to see with." You keep her gaze as she shrinks back from you

Time passes slowly as your vision clouds, Bakugo no longer taunting you with rumors. The pink skinned woman packs your arrow wound as the light skinned woman spreads ointment on your burning cheek and lip.

Even after all of this poking and prodding you would do it again.

"You may take your leave." He stands rushing them out of his tent before stretching.

"My chambers are where?" It hurts to speak more so than before and he can tell. He smirks at your pain expression that only sours.

"Well. You're looking at it."

"Then you're dismissed." You say pulling at the tight gown, when you spy him still there you growl.

"Oh no princess. This my room that I am sharing." A heated glare, "Keep your friends close and enemies closer they say."

"Fine." You say letting the shredded fabric fall to the floor and removing your underwear.

You stand nude and proud in front of a staring King.

You see a hint of blush in his scowl.

"What are you doing?" A bark.

"I always sleep nude." You shrug your shoulders before sliding into the cool covers. You moan from the comfort.

"Tch." You hear fabric hit the floor before weight is beside you, "Good thing because I do too. Sleep tight Princess. Know that it is an honor to share a bed with me."

"A dishonor is more like it. Considering you reacted to my body as if you've never seen a bare woman before." You snort snuggling deeper. You feel the heat from his skin as he nears closer and you must fight yourself from leaning into the touch. His lips barely touch your ear as he growls.

"None such as repulsive as you."

[dragonrajafanfiction]

Dragon Dancer IV: Monsters of the Ice Cellar

I watched through the porthole of my cabin as the bright lights of Tokyo faded into the distance. The other rooms had descended into silence. I was exhausted, but felt strongly that someone should keep watch tonight.

I tucked my baby daughter into the small clothes bureau, leaving it cracked open for ventilation. Once I was sure she would stay asleep, I took Spider Fang and Tongzi and walked out.

I opened the door to a darkened hallway and looked right and left. There was no sound. I made my way down the corridor, following the route I had memorized, until I reached the metal stairs leading up to the deck. It was so nice, smelling the sea air as it washed away the stench of garbage and rust.

Empty shipping containers were stacked on one side of the ship. It was a tight squeeze between them, but my body was small and I pushed my way in as far as I could manage while still having a good view of the outside. Then I settled in for the night. I saw two men come up from below deck and walk around the captain’s bridge towards the front of the vessel, but otherwise no one moved.

I yawned and rested my head against the container. I heard the sound of buoy bells clanging in the distance but other than that there was only the rumble of the engine and the sound of the ocean lapping against the hull. The wind was picking up and the waves were getting increasingly rough. The rush of water and the rock of the boat made my eyes heavy.

I startled awake and rubbed my eyes. I fell asleep so quickly! I wanted to stay up and watch but I wasn’t the best at it. A dense fog had settled over the ocean and I could no longer see the ocean waves around us.

I blinked. Someone was coming up from below deck?

The man stopped and looked around briefly, then checked his watch. He looked up.

I lifted my head at this suspicious behavior and grabbed my swords. He strolled toward the back of the ship, closer to me, but hadn’t noticed me. I carefully slid closer to the mouth of the gap I’d squeezed myself in to watch him.

He was heading to one of the life boats. There were six orange fiberglass vessels hung on pylons on the side of the ship. I saw him pull out the manual and began to read.

I slipped out of the hiding spot and moved silently to intercept. As he reached over to operate the wench that would lower the boat into the sea, I drew Tongzi and pressed it against his back.

He tensed up and reached for a weapon.

I pressed the blade harder, piercing his clothes. “Don’t even think about it. Who are you? Where do you think you’re going?”

“Carli?”

“Mingfei?!”

Mingfei turned and looked at me. His eyes wide.

“What are you doing here?!” We both asked at once.

“I’m keeping watch! Why are you taking a life boat?” I asked, my voice shrill with confusion.

“Shhh..” He said, looking nervously towards the bridge.

“Don’t shush me!” I said in a harsh whisper. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I...” I watched his eyes shift as he tried to think of some way to explain.

“Are you leaving us?! Why? Does Nono know about this?!” I asked him.

“No. She doesn’t. Look. I need to find out what I am. I have to go alone.”

I squinted in growing confusion. “What?! Why? Mingfei, I understand you have questions but that doesn’t explain...”

“I got in contact with my father.  At the bookstore.” He said.

The pain in his eyes only confused me further. “Your father? How do you know he was really your father?”

“Because he knew things only my father would know. The silly things we used to say when I was really young. My first childhood friend. The kids in our neighborhood. He knew it all.” He cleared his throat and swallowed. “It’s really him.”

I shook my head in denial. “No... No, Mingfei this is a trap. Why would your father call you at a bookstore, now of all times...? Mingfei, he abandoned you to Cassell. All this time has passed and he never called you once. Never!”

Mingfei lowered his head and sighed. “Look, I’ve gotta go...”

I grabbed his arm and yanked as hard as I could to get him away from the life boat, snarling through my teeth. “No, you do NOT. You listen! Listen!” I fought to keep eye contact with him. “That man... doesn’t care about you. He’s made that clear. He works for Cassell. Just like he has every day since you were a child!”

“I know... but...”

“Mingfei, you’re not this stupid. You’re not this stupid!” I raised my hands up and grabbed his face, forcing him to look at me. “They’re going to lock you up. Bare. Minimum. And all of this is going to be for nothing!” 

Tears ran down my cheeks as I looked into his eyes and just saw sad resignation. Did he know it was a trap and wanted to go anyway? 

His hands circled my wrists, bringing my arms back to my side. 

“You.. can’t...” I whimpered.

“This doesn’t concern you.”

“This doesn’t concern me?” I laughed a little between quiet sobs. “What? Mingfei you’ve all I’ve got! You’re all I’ve got...”

I steeled myself, forcing the tears away. “I’m not going to let you go. You’re not being rational. Is this a death wish? Like Chisei? Are you okay with dying?”

“I could be a dragon king, Carli.” He whispered.

“So what?!” I hissed. “The idea that Dragon Kings are inherently anti-humanity is what Cassell tells us!” I licked my lips leaning closer to him. “Here’s what I believe... I believe you have the Dark King in you. You’re higher than every other Dragon King. Could that make you more dangerous? Sure! But it also means you have ultimate control over what happens in the dragon war!”

I looked into his eyes, willing him to understand. “Mingfei... you can change it... but you have to live.”

Mingfei’s head suddenly lifted and he looked around.

I looked around too. “What is it?”

“We’ve stopped.”

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

Sure enough, the ship engines were completely silent. I looked left and right, but no one was on deck. I got butterflies in my stomach. Mingfei walked around to the front of the ship. I looked into the windows of the bridge. There was no one inside.

“Do you smell that?”

I took a sniff. “Gasoline?” 

Mingfei walked over to the edge of the ship and looked down over the side. I stood and waited, keeping an eye out for anything else that might happen. He returned, his expression grim. “The water is full of fuel. And the anchor has dropped.”

“Oh god...” I whispered. “Are those the only life boats?”

Mingfei nodded over my shoulder and I turned to look. On the other side of the deck there were similar pylons to the ones the other boats were attached to, only these pylons had no boats attached. “I think Mr. Aliyev doesn’t care about his family as much as Crow thinks he does.”

I stomped my foot in frustration. “I knew it! I knew this would happen! And it still happened!”

“You can get us out of here right?” Lu Mingfei asked.

“Yes! I just have to wake Nono and Zihang!” I turned and ran back around towards the staircase.

As I came around the building of the bridge, I skidded to a halt. Someone was climbing up the stairs! He looked like a man in a rubber diving suit!

“Enemy!” I shouted summoning a spear of light into my hand.

The intruder dove to the ground and the spear over shot him. He crawled on his hands, low like a crocodile, his golden eyes staring into mine. He transformed into a massive snake before my eyes.

“Look out!” Mingfei pushed me aside and I felt a sharp pain in my ear. I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling hot blood on the side of my face. When I opened them again, Mingfei was wrestling with the serpent who was now a man again. He locked him into a strangle hold, cutting off circulation to his brain. In seconds, the man was out cold.

I stood stunned as Mingfei let the man drop. “Are you alright?” He walked up to me. “Let me see it.”

He pulled my hand away. “It’s alright. It’s not deep and doesn’t seem to be poisoned.” He turned to look at our attacker.

“An assassin?” I asked. 

“Probably. The way he moves is weird.”

“He turned into a snake.” I said.

Mingfei shook his head. “No, it’s a soul skill, Snare of Affliction. It causes you to see visions when you look into his eyes.”

“I’ve never heard of it.” I continued to put pressure on the side of my head.

“It’s a high level skill of the Light King descendants.” Mingfei walked back over to the fallen diver and kicked him over.  “It’s been only recently discovered.” 

“He’s from Hydra?”

Mingfei picked the man up. “Let’s go.”

We made our way back downstairs. 

The hall was now filled with a strange blue mist. It seemed like the place should have been a sauna, but the mist was cold! As I approached the cabins, I could hear Ru’Yi crying!

I whimpered deep in my throat and opened the door, rushing to the chest of drawers where I had hidden her. “Shhh... shsh sh...” I wrapped her in her fleece blanket and put a hat on her head for extra warmth.

I settled her on my back, wrapping her tight to me. I couldn’t dare leave her in the room alone. Not with assassins about.

“Zihang? Nono!” Mingfei called.

I stepped out of the room. 

Mingfei came out of Nono’s room, still dragging the body of the man in the divers suit. “They’re not here and there’s signs of a struggle. We have to find them!”

I followed him down the foggy hall. As soon as he was any distance away, he disappeared in the cold mist. I only knew where he was by the sound of his breath and his footsteps on the metal floor.

“Where is this mist coming from!” My clothes were wet and stuck to me. Ru’Yi started mewling again. 

The sound of gun shots rang out from below us! 

Mingfei broke into a run.

As we descended lower in the bowels of the ship, the hall became more and more cluttered. I had to be careful not to trip over boxes and crates full of random items like food, clothing, and a bootleg dvds.

I nearly ran into Mingfei’s back. Ahead of us, a heavy door was shut. He glanced back at me and I nodded, backing away further into the hall and drawing Tongzi.

Behind the door, I heard a strange chanting, like a chorus of voices all saying the same words, but slightly out of sync with each other, like a resounding prayer. It was a singing so beautiful that my heart lifted and instinctively, I looked to Mingfei with admiring eyes as he lowered the unconscious diver to the ground.

It was the Soul Skill Imperium, the Royal Speech of the Dark King. It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever heard. Tears sprang to my eyes. I wanted to sing along but my throat closed. I was carried away by the magnificence of this ancient voice in my mind. 

But who was singing? I opened my eyes again expecting somehow to see Mingfei singing to me, but it wasn’t Mingfei. “Nono! Zihang!” He was pulling open the heavy freezer door.

He stopped, silent. Then he pulled a pistol from behind his back. He was immediately surrounded by more of these men in diving suits. They were all chanting the Dark King’s song! 

Outraged at their sacrilege, I pulled out a light spear from my hand.

Mingfei raised the gun and fired, point blank, at one of the divers. I startled my light spear vanishing. Even with a Frigga bullet, a point blank shot in the face would cause devastating injury! But this was no Frigga bullet. The man’s skull seemed to explode, his neck rocking back at an impossible angle, like his spine had snapped in two.

But Mingfei wasn’t done. He fired again and again, following the man as he stumbled backwards, yet somehow remained upright. He lowered the pistol and shot him in the chest. Lower still, again, in the kidneys.

The man bent all the way back as though suspended by invisible wires.

Mingfei pulled the trigger again. All I heard was an empty click.

He pocketed the gun and drew his curved knife.

The body of the man snapped back up and Mingfei’s knife collided with claws over a foot long.

These people weren’t human.

The claws swiped at Mingfei, -- once, twice, thrice -- missing by a mere centimeters each time. The other men took on an offensive posture.

I knew that Mingfei had had vigorous training in South Korea, but I’d never truly seen it until now. He took on all of them, even as they surrounded him. Dodging and attacking in a single motion, striking at enemies he could see, and defending blows from behind that he could only anticipate in his own mind.

But these enemies were going to overwhelm him any second.

Before I could even think of rushing into the freezer, Mingfei roared. “Get Nono out of here!” 

Mingfei pulled an anti-tank grenade from the pockets of his trench coat! The power of this weapon is greater than a C4 explosive. At the same time, his attacks became more persistent and he started to push his opponents further into freezer.

“Are you crazy!” I heard Nono shout.

Chu Zihang emerged from the walk in freezer, dragging a barely conscious Nono, pursued by two of the divers who had peeled away from Mingfei to stop them from escaping. I rushed forward and grabbed onto the door to close it pulling with all my weight, but a blade managed to get through the gap and pierce Chu Zihang in the back about an inch deep.

More of the monster divers slammed behind the door, but they weren’t really smart. The door needed to be pulled, not pushed.

Their mindlessness stunned me for a moment and I was able to see through the gap as I backed away. Mingfei was completely surrounded and bleeding.

“Idiot!” Nono cried. 

I looked at her. She was trailing a long stream of blood. I suddenly understood Lu Mingfei’s murderous reaction to what he saw in the freezer. When I looked back through the gap in the door, I saw him pull the pin on the grenade.

“Get down!” I threw myself to the floor and turned my back to the wall to protect Ru’Yi. 

The blast somersaulted the thick reinforced metal door off its hinges and over my head. It slammed into Chu Zihang and Nono.

“No!” I cried out.

Did I just lose everyone?

[ellaustenn]

I’m an idiot

Pairing: Charlie x Reader

Word count: 2325

Plot: Charlie is avoiding you for some reasons, but he doesn’t share them with you. He just stopped talking with you, and is actually Penny who tells you what’s happening. 

Author’s note: Charlie Weasley x Reader cause I can’t get enough of this. Also, just like the first OneShot: English is not my first language (I’m Italian). 

Y/N: Your name

Y/H: Your House

January, 1988.

I entered the library with a slow pace, my gaze fixed on the floor. At my chest I was holding History of Magic, the books bag was slamming against my leg at every step. I passed Madama Pince's desk and I heard her mumble something incomprehensible; I was so downcast that I didn’t even have the strength to roll my eyes.

I passed some dusty bookshelves, I saw a few books levitate towards their place almost as if they had their own soul, a couple of students greeted me with a brief gesture. I found the person I was looking for sitting at a long table between two high shelves.

He was passing a hand through his ginger hair when I sat down next to him. He looked tired, sighing from time to time. In front of him he had a piece of parchment full of notes, books of different subjects were open.

“How long have you not slept?” I asked him in a low voice, placing my things on the table.

Bill Weasley shook his head. “N.E.W.T.s are approaching, and I need to stay focus on my studies. Besides, I fear I’ve forgotten what going to sleep means”

Without saying anything back, I nodded. I knew exactly how Bill felt: my O.W.L.s were getting closer as well. At times it seemed that my brain was melted, for those hours I remained glued to books to study. Occasionally, I would even stay up almost all night to review History of Magic or Transfigurations.

One time, Rowan woke up after having a bad dream. Her first intention was to sneak into my bed, wake me up and tell me about the nightmare, but I wasn’t even in the dorm. She had found me only by going down into the Common Room.

“Y/N, you should be in bed!” she had called me, shaking her head.

“I wanted to reread Ancient Runes’ notes,” it had been my answer. 

Next to me, Bill grabbed one of his books and started turning the pages. When he found what he was looking for, he stopped and began to read in a low voice. A lock of ginger hair fell on his face and he, blowing, moved it.

I tried to get myself to study too, I didn’t come to the library for conversation after all.

I opened History of Magic to the page where the last topic Binnis had explained began, and in my mind I could even hear the monotonous voice of the ghost.

For almost ten minutes I managed to stay focused on the text, then a side note caught my attention. Three words had been written obliquely, one below the other and in block letters; the 'O's were a snitch.

“I love you”

I bit my lip and passed the index finger on the writing, knowing very well who the calligraphy belonged to. Sighing, I turned to Bill: perhaps he could tell me why my best friend, as well as a boy for whom I had a huge crush on, did nothing but avoid me for weeks.

“Bill,” I called him. “Do you know why Charlie is avoiding me?”

My voice was a whisper, little more than a breath. I was not sure that Bill had heard me, but he lowered the book he was reading and turned to me. His skin was pale, his eyes lit by a sad light that didn’t suit him at all. For a second I felt myself sinking, as if Bill knew something I didn’t know, as if he were about to tell me that Charlie had changed his mind about me and started to hate me.

“Oh dear Merlin! What have I done?” I asked him, already feeling the tears coming. 

Bill took my hands in his and shook his head. “Y/N, you didn’t do anything wrong. It’s just that I don’t know how to answer you: Charlie is avoiding me too”

“What? But you’re his brother!” I replied, frowning. “Why is he doing this to you? And more importantly, how long is this going on?”

Bill shrugged. “A few weeks? I don’t know, Y/N. I noticed that, whenever I wanted to have a chat with him, he find an excuse to leave”

I looked down and shook my head, most of the hair fell in front of my face acting as a tent. I bit my lip so as not to cry, because without Charlie I felt incomplete, even empty.

I remembered that morning when I waited for him just outside the Great Hall, we both had Potions and, as usual, we would go to class together. He came out of the Great Hall with Andre discussing a bit of the quidditch match that would have taken place that weekend and a bit of dragons.

Andre had noticed me instantly and, with a dazzling smile, had approached to greet me with a hug. I was almost hugging him when, suddently, Charlie had grabbed him by the uniform and had dragged him away, leaving me there, alone.

I had chased them, I asked Charlie what was wrong with him and why he had not even looked at me.

“Leave me alone Y/N” he simply said.

Since that day, I had tried in every way to make me forgive anything I had done to make him so angry. I stopped him in the corridors to talk to him, but he moved me away and continued on his way; I threw him notes during the lessons, but he threw them without even reading them. One afternoon I went to see his quidditch practice and, at the end of it, I had waited outside the locker room.

“Charlie said it’s gonna take a while. He asked me to tell you to not wait for him” one of his teammates had said.

Someone moved the chair in front of mine. Bill let go of my hands and I, trying not to think about how bad it was to stay away from Charlie, I raised my head and saw Penny. Her blond hair was gathered in a high tail, her lips bent in what was the hint of a smile.

“I did some research,” she began, shifting her gaze first on me and the on Bill.

“Research? Why? Were there any research to do?!” panic seized my voice, my mand was already plannin an excuse to be able to deliver the paper late.

In the distance, Madama Pince said, “SHHH!”

Penny chuckled. “Calm down Y/N, it doesn’t concern any of the Hogwarts subjects"

Relieved, I relaxed against the back of the chair and gave her time to continue. Now I was really curious to know what she was referring to. 

“Apparently, someone put a gossip aroung on you two” Penny said, pointing to Bill and me with a finger. “It is rumored that you’re together and that you” and she pointed to me. “will spend the summer at the Weasley’s”

Bill frowned and I followed him.

“It is also said that, after Y/N ha gratuated, you two will get married”

Bill and I exchanged a look and immediately burst out laughing. It was ridiculous for people to think that Bill and I were a couple, and even that we should get married right after I graduated.

“I was just coming here to tell you everything when Andre stopped me,” Penny added. 

I immediately stopped laughing. “Did he tell you why Charlie avoids us?”

Penny nodded. “The rumors have convinced Charlie that you two are dating”

Bill had been elected Head Boy that year. One of his duties was to organize the evening patrols: all four Prefects were put to work, but in pairs. And the plan that Bill and Penny and I had created was based on this.

A meeting was called so the Head Boy and Girl could choose who was to work with whom. The Head Girl unrolled a small piece of parchment she had held in her hands until that moment, then took a deep breath and called out our names aloud. Bill winked at me when I heard: “Y/N, you’re with Charlie”

I turned to him and smiled, hoping to see him do the same. But Charlie sat with his eyes fixed on his hands.

“Don’t demoralize yourself right now, sis” Bill whispered in my ear. "You have the whole evening to explain him how things really are, and maybe, who knows, he'll be the one you'll marry after graduation"

I blushed and pushed him away.

A few hours after dinner, while the last students walked over to their Common Rooms, I found Charlie waiting for me on the first floor. He stood with his back against the wall, beside him the paintings yawned and got ready to go to sleep.

His ginger hair was always gathered in a low ponytail, his blue eyes fixed on the floor, the lips - so inviting - were slightly open. I told myself that if I had been silent enough, I could have stayed there to admire it, maybe I would have even taken a step forward to be able to count those wonderful freckles.

I cleared my throat and he jerked his head up. I realized that I could lose myself in those blue pools.

Charlie pushed himself off, soaked his lips and then said, “You go to the right and I go to the left”

Without even waiting for my answer, he began to walk. I frowned and stood still for a few moments, trying to understand what had just happened. When I finally recovered, with the sensation of having a boulder in the pit of my stomach, I snapped to the left and followed him.

“Charlie!” I called him over and over again, and every time he heard his name he accelerated the pace.

“Charlie, wait a second!” I screamed at him, reaching out to stop him.

He stopped, and I nearly ruined him. I stopped in time, leaving between us just a meter away - which was too much for me.

“What do you want?” he asked me, sighing.

During the morning I had one hour and I had exploited it by throwing down what I wanted to say to Charlie. I wrote a perfect speech on the pergament, which I had even memorized, but at the moment all those words had vanished into thin air. I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

Exasperated, Charlie shook his head and started to leave. Before he could even move a single step, I grabbed him by the wrist and looked him straight in the eye.

“You're an idiot Charles Weasley!”

Charlie's gaze fell for a second on my hand around his wrist, then he looked back at me. “What?”

“You heard me!” I exclaimed, letting him go.

“What do I owe this outbreak of anger?” he asked me, narrowing his gaze.

“You've been avoiding me for weeks and you haven’t even told me why! It was Penny who told me your stupid and childish motivation!” I replied, narrowing my gaze and crossing my arms to my chest.

“Stupid and childish?” he asked, raising his voice.

He took a step toward me, shortening the distance, but I didn’t move.

“Exact!” I exclaimed, stamping my feet on the ground. “Bill thinks the same as I do”

“Bill here, Bill there!” he said angrily. “You're always talking about him, Y/N. I would say that I really did well to distance myself, don’t you think?”

“You're an idiot.” I said, pushing him and chanting every word at the same time. “All those times that it's just you and me and you only remember the parts where I'm talking about your brother? What, you forgot maybe that time I supported you all the way, when that wizard cheated us by selling us a Acromantula egg instead of a dragon egg?”

Charlie opened his mouth to reply, but I continued with tears in his eyes.

“Or all the times when I come to see your quidditch practice, or the games? I cheer for you everytime, even if it’s Gryffindor against Y/H?” I swallow, the voice broken by tears. “And let's not forget the times when I have to face one of the challenges that the Cursed Vaults subject me to: Charlie, you're the first to whom I talk about it, not Bill”

“Y/N...” Charlie closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath.

“Keep on believing in rumors that are absolutely fake, Charlie Weasley,” I mutter, wiping my tears hard with my palms. I pause to catch my breath, and when I finally see myself in the Gryffindor's blue eyes, a fake laugh comes out of my lips. “And to say that it’s always been you”

Shaking my head, I waved to him and decided to do the patrol on my own. The next day I would have to tell Bill and Penny that the plan was not successful and that, most likely, I had completely lost my best friend.

At this point I didn’t even mind the fact that I had confessed that I liked him.

I started walking, hugging myself and repeating in a low voice not to cry. Then I heard someone running beside me and two hands resting on my shoulders.

“Is not Bill? Was it never him?” Charlie asked me, his voice reduced to a sigh.

I shook my head and instinctively threw myself into his arms. “I only want you, stupid”

Charlie returned the hug, then took my face in his hands. He apologized in a low voice about how he had treated me, begged me to forgive him and murmured over and over again that I he missed me so much. At each word, his face was closer to mine.

“I'm an idiot,” he whispered, just before his lips touched mine.