#heavy lake effect snow

[enigmatist17]

I was right in the path of the snowstorm that hit us this week (and another coming this weekend yaaaay), and thought of my boys :)

This is part of the Mecha Pilot AU by @keferon :)

My other AU fics here

---

"RATTY, WHAT IS ALL THIS STUFF?"

Deadlock didn't yell, at least not that Ratchet had ever heard, and he sure as hell never sounded uncertain.

"What're you goin' on about?" The mechanic certainly didn't have some pep in his step as he hurried to his Cybertronian, a wrench gripped in one hand as he headed to the personal bay he'd set up for Deadlock. The door was open, revealing a heavy snowfall that Ratchet had forgotten about, the mech staring at the weather with a glare.

"What is it?!" His plating rattled in slight discomfort as Ratchet raised an optic ridge (no, eyebrow? Eh, he'll ask later) at him, clearly unconcerned by the strange weather. "The sky hasn't done this before."

"That would be because it hasn't gotten cold enough 'til now." The wrench in his hand gets shoved into his toolbelt, and despite the lack of his jacket, Ratchet steps out into the snow with an amused smirk. "See? Safe an' sound." True to his words, Ratchet didn't appear in any pain, aside from a shiver that wracked his frame as the white flakes started to coat him. "It's called snow."

"Why is there snow? It has been cold for days now, your bitching about it has told me that enough." Slowly, the mech reached out to Ratchet, his digit twitching when the first few flakes landed on it, but no warnings popped up in his HUD.

"We didn't have the right temperature for the water vapor in the air to condense, but we do now. I forgot we were even gettin' a storm, which means getting home is going to be a bitch and a half."

"You drive in this stuff?" The Cybertronian asked, letting the curiosity running through his processor bleed through more than he usually would have done. "Is it not dangerous?"

"Well yea, but we've adapted over the years." The human responded as he moved to come in from the snow, Deadlock using his hand as a cover. "Sit here, let me go get my jacket and other boots on."

"Alright." Deadlock watched Ratchet head back inside his shop floor before returning his optics to the snowy landscape in front of him. He had seen something resembling this snow a few times, but it had been through quick pit stops at planets to scavenge shards of energon that left him no time to actually examine the frozen precipitation. It's cold against his servo when Deadlock scoops up a generous helping of the snow, compacting into a vague ball shape when he closes his servo into a fist, remaining solid even after he grabs it with his other servo.

"We call that a snowball." Ratchet had also put on a hat and some servo coverings, crouching to scoop up his own snow. "I'd rather you not throw that one at me, but pick and target and launch."

"Is this snow a weapon?" Now that got his attention, the assassin picked out a random tree and launched the snowball as hard as he could, all of the collected snow on the branches falling off as it connected with a loud thud.

"Not as effective ones, that's for sure." Ratchet snorted, nailing a nearby parked car right in the windshield. "Nah, it's for fun usually, though you're gonna kill me with how hard you threw yours."

"I'd never hurt you Ratty." Deadlock purred, offering his servo with a grin. "I want to see more."

"C'mon, the lake might be frozen over." Ratchet hopped up onto the offered limb, bracing himself against the wind as Deadlock began to venture out into the snowy forest, pausing every so often to look at the snow-covered trees and rocks in interest. "So Cybertron doesn't have snow?"

"Not that I was ever aware of? What we consider organic on Cybertron isn't the same definition for you."

"Fair enough." Ratchet lapsed into silence as Deadlock headed to the lake he had crash-landed next to what felt like a lifetime ago, the mech clearly surprised by the sight when they reached the clearing. "Well?"

"..." Deadlock carefully set his human down before approaching the water's edge, the surface now solid to the touch. "This is...cool."

"Yes it is." Ratchet snorted as he joined the mech, testing the ice with one foot. "Hm, might be strong enough..."

"For what?" The mechanic looked up with an amused look before taking a step forward, Deadlock watching in slight awe as he began to walk on water like he was strolling on normal ground.

"You can't always do this, but sometimes we get lucky. It is pretty cool." He grinned, the alien reaching over to steady him with a digit when Ratchet wobbled slightly. "Thanks."

"As much as I kinda don't like your planet all this much, I could come to like this snow and ice." The assassin purred, using his digit to lazily pull Ratchet around on the ice in a random pattern.

"Not the biggest fan, but I do enjoy the occasional snow day myself." Ratchet shrugged as he did a poor man's version of ice skating, only upright do to his tight hold on Deadlock's digit. "Glad you're enjoying it."

"Only because I'm with you." The look on Ratchet's face made the corny line more than worth it, Deadlock chuckling as he continued pulling the human around on the ice. "How long will it be like this?"

"I don't know, probably a few days. Best enjoy it while we've got it."

"Works for me." Sure, Ratchet can't feel much of his body by the time Deadlock decides he's done enjoying the view, but it wasn't all bad when he's carefully placed inside the mech's warm interior for the trek back. They end up dozing off in Ratchet's workshop when neither of them feels like dealing with what would be a nasty drive to Ratchet's home, the falling snow filtering through the moonlight lulling them both to sleep.

[anonyymouslyyours]

corio w lucy grays older sister +18 (my guys a bit of a perv in this)

when coriolanus snow is assigned to work at district 12, he is surprised to arrive and find lucy gray with an older sister. a pretty, sweet, innocent older sister, who everyone in the district adores. corio knows hes completely wrong for you, how his capitol blood would taint your purity, but he is enthralled by you. he sees you sing in the bar, with lucy gray, but his eyes are always on you, with flowers in your hair, and a pink flowy dress.

when corio is invited to the lake he jumps at the opportunity to see you again. and when you take of your pretty sundress, and reveal your tiny bathers, nipples visibly perked and hard through the material, coriolanus uses up the very last amount of his control.

he spends all his nights tossing and turning, sneaking of into the bathroom to relieve his aching cock, while images of you run through his head. little does he know, your also preoccupied with thoughts of him, just as eager to see him again.

to his surprise, hes invited to the lake again by you, and you swim with the others as coriolanus watches from afar, adding new mental pictures do his nightly routine. however, when you come out the lake, in the same little bathers, you invite him into the woods with you to search for some berries.

"careful of the snakes" you warn him, as you search the forest floor for food. when you yell to say you've found some, your hand them to him, and very carefully coriolanus takes one and opens your lips with his thumb, feeding you the berry. your eyelids are heavy and hooded, arousal evident in your body, even from the simplest action. coriolanus is delighted at the effect he seems to have on you, so now, every chance he has, he comes to see you.

your relationship progresses quickly, and only a few months in, coriolanus has tainted you, and turned you into his own little whore, begging for him every night. his once love of lucy gray now forgotten, as he dotes on you, entirely under your spell.

[mindblowingscience]

Over the past few days, extremely cold Arctic air and severe winter weather have swept southward into much of the U.S., breaking daily low-temperature records from Montana to Texas. Tens of millions of people have been affected by dangerously cold temperatures, and heavy lake-effect snow and snow squalls have had severe effects across the Great Lakes and Northeast regions. These severe cold events occur when the polar jet stream—the familiar jet stream of winter that runs along the boundary between the Arctic and more temperate air—dips deeply southward, bringing the cold Arctic air to regions that don't often experience it.

Continue Reading.

[ken-dom]

3. Cold hands in warm hands

Lars (... or any of the Goose characters*swoons*) being warmed/warming up the reader after they have to be exposed to the cold.

Melts. My. Cold. Heart

Hand holding 3. cold hands in warm hands

Lars Lindstrom x gn!reader

∘₊✧ We have @heresthestorymorningglory to thank for clearing my head with this one. To quote her — ‘not to sound too much like Lars but…’ — and then she proceeded to resolve all my writers block 💕 sorry it took a while anon!

∘₊✧ Pure fluff! Please don’t take any advice from this about being cold or frostbite!!

∘₊✧────────────────✧₊∘

‘It’s better to warm yourself slowly. If you’re too quick you could go into shock,’ Lars said confidently. There was an air of concern that he tried to hide, but it showed in his eyes and it made your heart leap that he would worry about you.

You nodded dutifully, standing before him with hands frozen stiff, unused to the cold here and having spent too long outside without gloves, believing it wouldn’t bother you. Turned out it did bother you, quite a lot more than you’d realised it might.

So thank goodness you ran into Lars at the Lake. You trusted him with ease, never having doubted him a day since you first met.

‘It’s scientifically proven that…’

He trailed off, mumbling the last couple of words as though he regretted speaking at all.

You leant forward, waiting for whatever he was hesitating with, whatever could help you regain the feeling in your fingers and avoid frostbite.

‘Yeah, Lars?’ you prompted.

‘It’s nothing… uhm… here-’

He pulled off his gloves and immediately dropped to his knees, a dull almost silent thud in the snow, the pressure of his weight wetting his trousers on the surface of it without a care. He was entirely focussed on covering your hands with the gloves, forgetting himself along the way.

He was careful not to graze your bare skin with his as he slid them on, but when he stood, he took hold of your gloved hands and placed one on top of the other, sandwiched between his own, and rubbed slowly.

He was strong. You knew this, but now you could feel it, from the firm way he gripped your hands in his and the vigour with which he massages them, gentle and careful, but firm.

And his hands must be huge because yours feel tiny inside the gloves. The thought makes your cheeks burn.

‘It might take a while,’ he muttered, staring down at your hands. You could feel him trembling as he rubbed, now, too. ‘You’ll experience some pain, and some tingling most likely, before they’re warm enough to move your joints comfortably. That’s normal, though. Try not to worry, ok? You’ll be ok, I’ll make sure of it.’

‘Thank you,’ you breathed, voice shaky.

Lars’s head was dipped, but you could see the way his mustache moved and you knew he was smiling. He always liked to be useful.

‘Hey, Lars, what were you gonna say to me before?’

‘Hmm?’

‘Something that’s scientifically proven?’

‘Oh… well,’ he cleared his throat, ‘it’s scientifically proven that… in cases like this, skin to skin contact is technically more effective because it’ll warm you the fastest way while still being safe.’

‘Oh, ok.’

You know he couldn’t do that, that it would only cause him pain or in the very least, distress. He was already doing his very best to help you; you wouldn’t ask him to try.

‘I don’t mind giving it a go, if it’ll help you,’ he looked up at you from under those gorgeously long eyelashes, partly hopeful, partly scared.

‘I couldn’t ask that of you, Lars. Really. This is fine.’

‘It’s fine, but it’s not the most effective method and…’

He stopped rubbing your gloved hands, took a deep, steadying breath, straightened his shoulders, and looked you dead in the eyes as he gently pulled the gloves from your hands and let them fall to the ground.

Visibly trembling now, his hands moved tentatively toward yours.

‘Is this ok?’ he asked, eyes glittering with nervous energy.

‘Yes,’ you said simply. ‘As long as it’s ok for you.’

He nodded, chest heaving, his heavy breath creating a cloud in the frosty air between you.

And then his hands covered yours once again. This felt warmer, all encompassing… intimate. His hands covered yours completely, confining your theory that they must be big. It felt safe.

His breath hitched and you could have sworn a little whine escaped his throat.

Lars’s shoulders dropped and he began to rub with confidence again, warm palms sliding over the backs of yours hands, skin to skin.

‘Does that- f-feel… better?’

‘Yes, it feels good. You sure you’re ok?’

He felt a feint pain, burning somewhere in the background where your skin met his, but it was nothing compared to what he felt when he had touched, or been touched, by anyone else.

This was new. It was kind of nice. He never wanted to break apart.

He nodded, worried he might make an embarrassing sound if he tried to speak now.

‘The science was right,’ you huffed out a laugh, ‘it’s working. I feel so much better now, thank you Lars.’

He stopped rubbing, but he didn’t move away. He was frozen to the spot, hands clamped around yours.

‘Want to hold my hand and walk me home? Better make sure I’m not out here too long without protection against the cold again…’

Lars beamed at you. ‘Yes. Yes! Oh! Hold on…’

He let go and bent to pick up his discarded gloves from the fresh layer of snow.

‘Here — you wear one glove…’ he slipped a glove onto your right hand, ‘and I’ll wear the other,’ he slipped the other glove onto his left hand, ‘and we can hold hands with the other two to keep warm!’

You beamed back at him.

The fingers of his bare hand interlocked with yours so easily it felt like they were made to fit together. ‘It might be warmer if…’

‘Go on,’ you encouraged, squeezing his hand with yours.

He don’t answer but you saw the blush creeping over his cheeks. He guided your connected hands into the pocket of his coat.

‘There. Now let’s get you home.’

[igotanidea]

Cold weather: Aaron Hotchner x reader

Christmas bingo day 14 : cold weather

~Oh, the weather outside is frightful…~

“Turn it down.”

“Well, it’s not like the song has nothing to do with reality-“ Y/N retorted not really listening to Hotch’s command “it is particularly cold weather today.”

The words she used were quite an understatement. When the BAU team (strengthen by the fellow DA in the person of Y/N) left for yet another field action, there was no premonition of the upcoming blizzard and the temperature drop. Currently, it was hard to drive due to the heavy snowfall, but neither Y/N nor Derek seemed to be bothered by it. Maybe it was because they were both the passengers, but seemingly nothing could destroy their Christmas spirit, not even an unhinged killer on the loose. Obviously they were professional, as always, but their humour and attitude were something the chief of the unit were struggling to put up with, leaving him wondering why did he even choose those two to come with in the first place.  

“Turn it down.” This time it was far more stern, even for Aaron.

“Are you a Grinch now, Hotch?” Morgan grinned from the back seat, earning nothing more than a single grunt from his boss and turning the radio off. “Come on!”

“We’re at work.”

“So what?” Derek whined “working as the profiler does not come along with being gloomy during Christmas time-“

“Morgan!” Y/N felt the need to intervene upon noticing slight, almost untraceable frown on Hotch’s face “enough.” 

“Oh, so you’re siding with the boss now, Y/N?” the fellow agent leaned forward from behind the seat “Just so you know, sunshine, that’s treason.”

“He’s not my boss. I’m independent of FBI And what you just said is a slander. Pretty sure is punishable.”

“don’t give me the DA talk, Y/N. Besides-” her friend’s smile only grew wider as he moved to whisper in her ear “are you sure you are not biased because of someone’s presence?”

“Enough. Both of you.” Hotch silenced them way more effectively by pulling off the car, showing his discomfort with the subject of the conversation. Of course he knew, he was a profiler for god’s sake. “We’re here.”

Three other cars were already parked nearby and the rest of the team were waiting Obviously, the crime scene was the open area and they were going to investigate and look for clues during a snowstorm, in the cold, and almost in the dark.

“Tell me again, whose idea was it to come here right away? There is no chance we are going to find anything.” Morgan almost rolled his eyes at the nonsense of the action.

“Not with that attitude, Morgan.” Hotch muttered growlingly, turning up the collar of his coat “You could have stayed at the precinct if you’re just going to complain.”

“Can I still get back there?”

“Guys! Come and see this!” the only excited person present, Spencer, called from the side of the trees, already invested in the searching, standing knee-deep in the snow inspecting something that might have been a trace as well as some irrelevant dust brought by the wind.

“What you got there, kiddo?” Morgan almost instantly moved toward the direction from with Spencer’s voice was coming. He was surprisingly protective of the young doctor. Added value, that he finally left Y/N and the BAU boss alone.

“Cold?” Hotch asked

“What? Cold? Me? No. Not really. Not at all.” She shivered from an icy gust of wind.

“You’re shaking.”

“Am I? Really? Didn’t notice.” sticking hands in her pockets did not bring the intended effect at all.

“Maybe you should be the one heading back instead of Morgan?”

“No way! It’s my job to-“

“You’re the DA. There’s no body here. You’re useless here.”

Oh. Oh damn, that hurt.

“Useless?” she frowned feeling her cheeks flustering from the sudden rush of emotions, unable to hide it “Well I;m pretty sure if you keep dragging your team through the frozen lake in search for clues we will have a corpse in no time.”

Hotch raised an eyebrow.

“Wonder who will be useless then.” She scoffed and walked past him to join the rest of the BAU. However, she didn’t get far when a sudden grip on her hand made her stop in her tracks.

“You’re wasting time.” Hotch pointed out roughly, pulling her along, sticking her gloveless hand in the pocket of his  coat, entwining their fingers, effectively hiding the fact from the view.

***

“What got into your head?” he was fuming an hour later, his fiery gaze focused on her shaking silhouette covered by the thickest blanket they could find at the provincial precinct, sitting next to the radiator with the steaming cup of chamomile tea in her hands. “If you were my subordinate-“

“Good thing I am not then, agent Hotchner.” She cut him off with a mocking, teasing look.“Proved my point. Both of them, actually.” Yes, jumping to save Spencer, who turned out to be an unfortunate person under whom the ice broke, may not have been rational, but it was certainly heroic. “we almost had another body. And hey, guess I am not useless after all.”

 “We’ll see. But I might see some potential to keep you around.” Maybe it was an optic illusion but it seemed like the left corner of his mouth lifted slightly.

“For work?” she smirked

“Yes.”

That piercing gaze were getting a little bit uncomfortable so just to cover for the additional shaking of her hands (not from the cold) she took a sip of her drink.

“L/N?”

“Hm?”

“You should use more hand cream. Your skin is scabrous.”

What the hell was he hinting at?!  

@somest1

[alexanderwales]

Chuck Palahniuk does a lot of repetition for effect in his novels. It's one of those things that I don't see people talk about much, but I guess I also don't travel in the circles where people talk much about Palahniuk in general.

In Lullaby, it's passages like this one, pg. 3:

Helen, she's wearing a white suit and shoes, but not snow white. It's more the white of downhill skiing in Banff with a private car and driver on call, fourteen pieces of matched luggage, and a suite at the Hotel Lake Louise.

This is repeated throughout the book, probably at least a dozen times. pg. 29:

Her suit's some kind of nubby sofa fabric, edged with white braid. It's pink, but not shrimp pink. It's more the color of shrimp pâté served on a wafer cracker with a spring of parsley and a dollop of caviar.

And pg. 82:

The suit she's wearing, the skirt is fitted to her hips. It's green, but not the color of a lime, more the green of a key lime pie. It's not the green of an avocado, but more the green of avocado bisque topped with a paper-thin sliver of lemon, served ice cold in a yellow Sèvres soup plate.

Palahniuk likes doing these patterns. Lullaby has a lot of them, as does Fight Club, and most of his other books. There's a consistency to when and how they're used, and they're little prose motifs. Those descriptions are all associated with Helen Hoover Boyle, for example, almost always part of describing her appearance (particularly suits), and by way of her appearance, who she is as a person.

Except that part of the point of doing this is so you can subvert it, so that it has its own grammar, so you can communicate with it. So later on, Helen Hoover Boyle gives her assistant a makeover, and we get another of these passages, except it's about Mona in a brown suit. And as the narrator gets to know Helen Hoover Boyle, we get some variations on this little motif, changing it.

I think Palahniuk overdoes it a bit, but reading his stuff is always a reminder of how powerful it can be. There's so much that can be signified by breaking or transferring patterns, setting up a format and then using the innate human sense of pattern to wield a heavy hammer.

[dopescissorscashwagon]

A Short-eared Owl banking in flight from last winter’s Owl Workshops. While Chris loves cloudy, bright conditions for bird photography, there was no shortage of white sky days last winter. Lake Ontario never froze, which meant a lot of lake effect clouds and light snow.Lake Effect clouds and snow occur when cold air moves across the open waters of the Great Lakes. As the cold air passes over the unfrozen and relatively warm waters of the Great Lakes, warmth and moisture are transferred into the lowest portion of the atmosphere. As the air rises, clouds form and grow into a narrow band that can produce snow, which can be heavy at times.

https://lnkd.in/efPQZ4G

📸 by Christopher Dodds Nature Photographer

[hae-yeon]

326.Black Dragon's Heart (1)

흑룡의 심장 (1)

The Young Chaos. Although the moniker may have been unbefitting of his current appearance; a pure white blade was held in his grip. I could hazily make out the black dragon’s body crouching down. Despite being impressively tall, with broad shoulders and a strong back, Chaos still appeared diminutive compared to the dragon that towered over him. Beyond being seen as slight, to the point of almost seeming fragile. But even then, it didn’t feel as though he felt hard-pressed by his opponent at all.

Rather, the reverse appeared to be the case. The black dragon staggered backwards, seemingly repelled by an invisible force that overpowered even its own oppressive aura. Meanwhile, Chaos stood relaxed, as leisurely as though he had simply stepped outside for a walk, with no trace of nervousness to be found in his stance.

“...Yoohyun-ah.”

I turned my body slightly, shifting out of the protective embrace I’d caged my dongsaeng in. So that Yoohyunie would be able to witness the sight unfolding before us.

“Make sure you get a good look.”

“...hyung.”

“If it’s difficult for your eyes to focus, then concentrate your mind instead, and engrave it into your memory through your body. The power of a being beyond this world, unshackled from any restraints.”

A threshold that Yoohyunie should one day be able to cross, unlike me. Simply being able to experience that power should prove useful to him, though he might be far away from achieving it yet. Whether it was because it could serve as a blueprint, or that it worked to spark his aspirations. Of course, there was the possibility that it might simply cause him to feel cowed instead; but my dongsaeng wasn’t that weak. And even in the case that it did make him flinch back, I just had to help him up again. Over and over, as many times as he required.

Supported by my body, Yoohyunie managed to prop himself up from where he’d been leaning against me. The color in his face has almost returned back to normal as well. All this, when he didn’t even have Fear Resistance the way I did; he really was truly commendable.

“Hyung, are you alright?”

“What d’you think.”

Even if my condition had improved slightly, it still felt as though I had a noose pulling tight around my throat. Because of the knowledge that, with a single slip, I might lose my dongsaeng once again, above all. The only thing driving me to grit my teeth and hold fast was the understanding that, if I were to let my fear consume me at this juncture and give up, it actually would be the end.

- Krrrrrrr.

A threatening growl reverberated out as the dragon’s maw opened. Unconsciously, I tightened my grip on Yoohyunie again. Beyond a row of teeth and tongue, the endless black pit of its throat became exposed. 

Gales of wind rushed together, and coalesced into a dense ball within the canal; then, in a single breath–was expelled in a single breath. 

콰과과과–!!

The waters of the lake, once filled to the brim, evaporated in a flash. An instantaneous vaporization, that didn’t even permit steam to form. Despite not having been touched by that power, my entire being trembled. It was an attack that neither of us would have been able to withstand for even a moment, without the shadow of a doubt.

But it had no effect on the man standing before it at all.

스르륵, in the face of a dragon’s breath that obliterated everything in its path, a hand wielding a snow-white sword shifted. Gravity drew the draped sleeve back. In the same manner one might use a rod to playfully toy with a kitten–gently, lightly, the flourish of a blade rose to meet a blast of heat bearing dreadful, tremendous force.

구구궁–

A thunderous sound filled the air, like the heavy percussion of thousands of drums. My chest squeezed, stifling my ability to breathe. Fighting against the intense urge to block both my ears and eyes, I forced myself to look straight ahead.

How could it possibly be described as a simple ‘wielding of magical energy,’ what had just transpired. The pure white blade, which had initially appeared to be a simple ‘shield’ brought up against the torrential wave of pitch black energy rushing forward, had somehow transformed into a towering mountain that came crashing down. With a single sweep of the blade, the ruined landscape surrounding us had been petrified completely, the molten carnage now frozen in place.

Following the movement of his arm, the sleeve of his garment slipped back down past his wrist as the snow-white blade completed its circuit. A faint light traversed across the length of the naked edge.

“I recall you gave me quite some trouble, back then.”

Chaos spoke as he walked forward, footsteps as light as though engaged in a dance.

“Mind, it’s worth noting I’d been a callow youth yet. And ‘twas a sweltering land, where both ground and sky boiled over with heat.”

But at present, well. Although I was unable to see his face to verify it myself, he continued on in a voice that clearly conveyed a smile. 

“You certainly resemble a common lizard.”

Chaos’s form vanished. But it didn’t seem to be the work of a Skill. My eyes were simply incapable of keeping up with the speed at which he’d moved. Then, suddenly–a black shape reappeared in my disoriented field of view. The enormous head, which had loomed so high above that it seemed it might graze the sun, 쿵!,  abruptly crashed down to the ground. A shattered horn was flung away, broken off in the commotion of movement, and was buried deep in the earth.

Without any ado, the dragon had summarily been beheaded.

Yet, the dragon’s body still showed signs of movement. As though engaging in a last-ditch struggle, vast wings unfurled, kicking up buffeting winds that extended to even where we were.

“Ugk!”

I hastily wrapped myself around Yoohyunie and threw up a shield, but it was about as effective as holding up a leaf. As my shield was shattered into tiny pieces, Yoohyunie swiftly enveloped us in his Coat to protect me in turn. But even the Coat, which was reinforced with multiple overlapping defensive properties, was unable to withstand even the gusts that had been generated as a byproduct. As though we’d been dealt a powerful blow, the two of us slid across the ground, our limbs entangling together; I urgently cast a healing Skill on my dongsaeng. 

“Ugh… Yoohyun-ah, are you alri–”

콰르르릉!

Before we could even pick our bodies back up, the ground shook once again. The sky lit up with the flash of ten thousand lightning strikes, then began to dim. Just a moment before, the sun had been high up in the sky; yet now, the heavens had turned pitch black. The acrid scent of smoke saturated the air, as did the metallic tang of blood. It felt as though we were weaponless civilians that had been dropped in the middle of a battlefield, while bombs went off all around us.

Engulfed in a veritable tempest that we could barely hope to withstand, my dongsaeng hauled us upright, propping me up with his own body. The hem of his Coat fluttered violently as the storm continued to rage around us. Blood and dirt covered us from head to toe, and our hair was as disarrayed as could be. It wouldn’t have been a stretch to say that we resembled refugees; but already, Yoohyunie had recovered the same level of composure he normally displayed.

Steady eyes gazed out at the landscape that had been gorged open and savaged by molten flames. After a pause to bite down on his lip, he spoke.

“It’s terrifying to behold, after all.”

“Yoohyun-ah.”

“It’s impossible for me to keep hyung safe, in the face of an adversary like that.”

But even as he made such an objective assessment, there was no hint of resignation to be found in his voice. He was acutely aware of how powerless he was at present; but even then, I instinctively sensed that my dongsaeng wouldn’t hesitate to step forward to protect me from harm, to the bitter end. 

“...I’m saying this just in case, don’t ever think that it’s because you’re lacking. It’s the result of a gap created by time, and the experience it brings. You’re absolutely strong in your own right, and you’ll even become powerful enough to stand on level ground with those beings. One day.”

Yoohyunie gave a small nod. But though I had reassured him out loud, a sense of hopelessness did pervade me. Not regarding Yoohyunie, but around my own affairs. Chatterbox might not have been able to barge in unchecked with his original strength, but goddammit. He was really playing dirty, setting up this sort of extreme ‘lightweight versus heavyweight’ scenario in a bid at revenge.

The ground trembled once more, and the sky thrashed wildly, as though it meant to collapse. And the ‘earthquake’ was far from being an ordinary one; it shook the very fabric of the dimension we were in, causing us to lose our footing and pitching us back to the ground. A thick murderous intent washed over us, cloying enough to cause my skin to prickle in pain, and then–.

It became quiet.

Light dawned in the sky, like the heavens had been washed anew; and from somewhere far off, the clear, sweet sound of running water could be heard. The wicked pressure that had been pressing on us from all sides, as well as the magical power that had tossed both sky and earth into turmoil, had suddenly disappeared. 

Did it mean that the encounter was over, then. As I finally let out a ragged breath, having struggled to breathe all the while, I sensed a presence approaching. Making an easy leap over a jutting section of earth, someone strode over to where we were. Naturally, I expected to be greeted by the Young Chaos, but.

“Huh?”

It was a young child. His previous appearance nowhere to be seen; and instead, this form was swimming in the sleeves of a loose robe clutched tight, just like the first time I’d met him. And in the same way as before, his features bore an uncanny similarity to Yoohyunie’s face from when he had been younger. 

“...that person.”

Having caught sight of the Young Chaos’s appearance, Yoohyunie gaze swung back towards me.

“Hyung’s still really attached to how I looked as a child, huh.”

Yoohyunie observed, his tone clearly implying that ‘he must appear that way as a result of my influence, of course.’ 

“That’s not, I mean.”

I was pretty attached to it, yes, but… Objectively speaking, he really was adorable, though, in truth. Shouldn’t it be stranger if I didn’t feel that way, right. While I was preoccupied, the Young Chaos had almost reached us with rapid steps. When I opened my mouth to convey my thanks, before anything else–

“Ack!”

A tiny hand snatched up my ear in a vice grip. And then, it gave my ear a sharp twist.

“Hyung!”

“Hurts! It hurts! Please, sir, let g–, ack!”

All he had done was give my ear a little tweak, but it still smarted enough to cause tears well up in my eyes. Instinctively, I tugged at Chaos’s arm to try and pry him away, but I couldn’t get him to budge even an inch. It was like trying to tear apart a lump of iron. Flustered, Yoohyunie reached out a hand to try and rescue me. But even before he could get close, 툭, the white sword, still inside its scabbard, smacked Yoohyunie’s hand away. 

Eyes narrowed in a glare, the Young Chaos looked at me and snapped.

“Eager to throw your life away, are you.”

“That’s, ack!”

“Hyung! Ugk!”

This time, as Yoohyunie attempted to intervene again, the white scabbard jabbed sharply into my dongsaeng’s side. On the surface, it seemed as though the ‘attack’ would have barely left a bruise; yet, it caused Yoohyunie to double over immediately, his body dropping to the floor.

“How dare you, ugh, lay your hands on someone else’s dongsaeng! Ack, I said that it hurts!”

“Here you are, throwing around Skills you hardly even grasp how to use, for someone who’s supposedly protecting his dongsaeng.”

“That’s not, ugh, hold on……!”

It hurt, it really hurt! Real tears spilled down my face. And even when I went to try and use my Skills, for whatever reason, my magical energy refused to respond. All I could do was struggle ineffectually while stooped over, forced to hunker down by an adversary much shorter than myself.

“...hyuh-, hyung!”

As though he had been struck with a paralyzing agent, Yoohyunie watched helplessly with distress clear in his face, barely managing to hold his head upright. My dongsaeng shouted at him to let me go, but the Young Chaos didn’t even pretend to have heard him.

“That thing would not have been allowed in here, had you not drawn my blade.”

“Ngk, it was my fau–, guh, I was the, ack! Ah, ah!”

“As it appears you cannot be trusted to refrain from using such artifacts, discard any objects of similarly dubious origin.”

“U-understood, sir!”

My ear was finally released after several more heartfelt entreaties of repentance. When I fell to the ground, a hand wrapped around my poor throbbing ear, Yoohyunie rushed over to pull me into his arms and glared at the Young Chaos.

“Are you alright? Does it hurt a lot?”

“I’m oka..y. Ugh… Just what exactly did you do, sir, to make it so that having an ear twisted feels even more painful than being stuck with a knife?”

I liked to think I had a fairly high pain tolerance, but it really had been no joke. And it was a different sort of pain than the kind that made you feel as though your life was at risk. It almost felt like the idea that ‘you’re in pain’ was being forcefully crammed into your head. Like I’d been put under a kind of hypnosis that had put me in a state where ‘all that’s happening is that your ear is being twisted, but it’ll feel like you’re experiencing an excruciating amount of pain.’

“...in any case, thank you, sir. For your assistance.”

I eventually said, roughly wiping away my tears. Additionally, I endeavored to pacify Yoohyunie, who was still incredibly upset, as well.

“This is the gentleman who provided me with your sword, okay. You can’t fight him. And he just saved us too, besides.”

And even if you tried, you probably wouldn’t be able to lift a finger against him right now, anyway. My ear, which had been aching fit to fall right off, presently returned to normal. Climbing back to my feet, I looked at the youth who resembled Yoohyunie.

“You were an adult just a little while ago, sir, so I’m curious as to why you seem to have reverted back to this form.”

“It is a curse, of a sort.”

“Even so–there’s little reason for you to take on my dongsaeng’s appearance, I should think, sir. Particularly when we’re not even in the real world.”

Hearing my words, the Young Chaos hiked up his brows.

“This is my own appearance.”

“...come again, sir?”

“It is your own prejudice coloring your perception, biased as you are as a result of the mind dimension Skill. Look closely once more.”

Inwardly repeating ‘the Young Chaos doesn’t look like my dongsaeng’ like a mantra, I closed my eyes then opened them again. Hmm… He still looked awfully similar to him, though. His eyes had always been crimson, but the locks of his hair were a smidge less curlier. A slight difference in the overall structure of their faces; and was he maybe a little bit shorter? Though in his adult form, he had appeared to be taller than Yoohyunie.

“I don’t seem to see a huge difference, though, sir. Do you happen to take after my dongsaeng, perhaps?”

“It is your dongsaeng who takes after me.”

Saying so, he looked at Yoohyunie.

“Though I’m more handsome, of course.”

The hell. After observing Yoohyunie for a moment, Chaos tilted his head. Because he resembled Yoohyunie all the same, the gesture looked adorable, despite myself.

“How curious.”

“What–”

Chaos’s form disappeared. Nearly simultaneously, I heard Yoohyunie let out a low cry. When I frantically whipped my head around, I witnessed the youth brusquely grab Yoohyunie by the neck and then slam him down to the ground.

“What do you think you’re doing!”

This fake-young old geezer! Blinded by urgency, I lunged at him with just my bare hands. But before I could even properly move, 찰싹, the belt of his robe whipped out to strike my hand. Just like before, the pain was intense enough to wring out a cry from me. Fighting against the way my body instinctively moved to curl in on itself, I reached out to grab hold of the belt. Chaos, who had been gazing down at Yoohyunie where he was pinned prone, turned to glance back at me.

“Ho, this young punk.”

He smiled, for some inscrutable reason; then, in a flash, he had wrapped his belt around my wrists. Making two or so loops before I could even think about struggling, I suddenly found that my hands had been tightly bound together. I couldn’t even begin to process what had just happened.

“I’ve no intention of harming your hyung.”

Releasing Yoohyunie from his grip, the Young Chaos rose up and casually nudged me. As I sat down heavily on the ground, unable to keep my balance, he instructed me to ‘stay put’ and turned his gaze back towards Yoohyunie. Pushing himself up, Yoohyunie met his eyes. I could see the clear imprints of a hand left on my dongsaeng’s throat.

“Just as I’d thought.”

With that brief remark, the youth lunged. Moving at a speed that was still impossible to follow, he swung his longsword, still sheathed in its scabbard. Yoohyunie’s arm shot out just in time to narrowly block the blade aimed at his heart, but.

Slam!

“Yoohyun-ah!”

Despite the guard he’d put up, Yoohyunie’s body was thrown directly airborne; he was flung a good ten or so meters away before he crashed down into the ground, hitting the floor heavily.

“Hey! Cut that shit out!”

What did this senile old fart think he was doing to someone else’s kid! Clumsily, I used a teleportation Skill while still sitting on the ground. The moment I appeared at Yoohyunie’s side, though, Chaos was already aiming a kick my way. In terms of force, it was more of a love tap, rather than a full-on attack; but with that being said, how the hell had he managed to maneuver even faster than teleportation.

As I was sent rolling across the ground, suddenly–스르릉, the hair-raising sound of a sword scraping against its scabbard reached my ears. He’d unsheathed his blade. S-shit, this crazy fucker, just what was he planning on doing!

“You deranged bastard! If anything happens to my dongsaeng, just know you’ll be killing me too!”

“Watch your tongue.”

Tsk, with the sound of a tongue clicking, the rope belt binding my wrists together was cleanly sliced away. When I hurriedly pushed myself upright, I could see Yoohyunie sitting on the ground. He didn’t seem to have sustained any major injuries, but there was a bright crimson line drawn against his neck. The traces of a blade wound. Rushing over to my dongsaeng, I planted myself in front of him.

“Let’s talk this out instead, sir, alright! What exactly is the issue here!”

“Rather than there being an issue.”

Returning his sword to his waist, the Young Chaos glanced up at me.

“I’m quite curious as to how you’ve managed to compel something that isn’t human to play at being so.”

“...sir?”

“I mean that dongsaeng of yours, of course.”

…reflexively, my face twisted into a deep sneer. So you weren’t even going to pretend to consider another person’s precious dongsaeng as being human now, huh.

- - - - -

+(Q&A)

Q) in the webtoon, the scenario is portrayed that, in that D-rank Dungeon at the beginning, following a fairly harsh verbal altercation, han yoojin decides he would rather be the one to die to the lauchitas; in the original text, the scene that the first chapter opens on, han yoohyun’s death pov–would it be alright to ask after what you thought that meeting between the brothers would’ve been like, in the Dungeon? is it similar to what happened in the webtoon? A) it’s similar ^^ in the novel, he never attempted to die, but if han yoojin at that time thought that han yoohyun might be safe so long as he wasn’t there, he probably wouldn’t have hesitated to kill himself. the han yoojin pre-regression is a character that tried to stay alive no matter what, but because the biggest reason for that was han yoohyun, so long as his dongsaeng’s life was at stake, he probably would’ve given up all that more easily.

+(Q&A)

Q) how did the elder come to be called not simply <chaos>, but specifically <‘young’ chaos>? A) chaos was unbridled from the first, when he became a transcendent, and ran unchecked. he was a terrifying newcomer, in a number of ways^^ it is both a reference to how he was the youngest of the transcendents at the time, as well as commentary on his ‘youthful impudence,’ re:how, even after rising to the rank of a transcendent, he never hesitated to raise his blade to meet any who challenged him, regardless of their position relative to him in the hierarchy. yet–in the end, the young chaos ultimately became one of the few Transcendents who models what a proper adult should be like, and displays an insightful capacity for true wisdom.

+(Q&A)

Q) when yoohyunie was young–perhaps, because of his lovely appearance, was he ever stopped on the streets by a modeling/talent scout (street casting)? A) they noticed him from afar and began to approach him, but upon observing him from a closer distance, experienced an uneasy feeling that caused them to turn back around. even then, he did receive several offers, but han yoojin turned all of them down. if han yoohyun wanted to go into the entertainment industry, then it would be better to do so after he graduated high school, he said. of course, han yoohyun had zero interest ^^

+(Q&A)

Q) i’m aware that he takes after the young chaos due to the primordial fire’s influence, but does that mean han yoohyun doesn’t outwardly resemble his parents or other relatives? A) because the ones who made the physical vessel for him do exert some influence, it can be thought of as ‘young chaos + han brothers’ parents,’ roughly speaking. when han yoohyun had just been born, he resembled the parents a bit more; but as he grew and his fire attribute became stronger, he began to resemble the primordial fire and the young chaos further. however, the parents’ influence does remain, so that’s why he still hears things like how he’s ‘different from han yoojin, but still bears some similarities, as befitting of brothers’ ^^ part of it can be attributed to the fact that, as the young chaos’s race bears close similarities to east asians, he ended up growing to resembling him even more. if the species or race had been completely different, then he probably wouldn’t have resembled the young chaos as much as he does at present.

+(Q&A)

Q) irinie mentioned that fire shouldn’t be stifled, because it transforms when it’s suppressed; since the 24y.o. yoohyunie in the dungeon had not only changed from a black flame (흑염) to a black blood flame (흑혈염), but also became instilled with poison, even after reconciling with yoojinie, would he be able to recover his blue fire (청염) still? A) as drawing forth one’s own natural affinity is a difficult task in itself, no matter which han yoohyun, so long as a han yoojin with a caretaker title is not by his side, even after rising to the rank of a transcendent, he would only be able to earn his blue fire after a very long period of development. however, as the flame would have died out before long without han yoojin becoming his world, consequently, that outcome is effectively an impossibility ^^ the reason the primordial fire was incapable of finding a fire to succeed it for that long period of time, was for a similar reason. the closer it is to being a ‘pure’ flame, the more likely it is to be snuffed out before properly maturing. as the han yoohyun(24) within the dungeon has han yoojin(29) by his side, he is capable of fostering blue flames. however, as the han yoojin within the dungeon has the lesser ‘caretaker’ title, the effect is far more diminished than that of han yoojin(25)’s, so it won’t be an easy task. because of that, rather than forfeiting the black blood fire to revert to a blue fire, there’s a higher likelihood that they(2429) will choose to develop the black blood fire further instead.

+(Q&A)

Q) what were some of the things that you thought were important, when writing an entity that’s far from being human? A) (about han yoohyun) only, as han yoohyun isn’t ‘a lifeform concerned about continued survival(self-preservation),’ he’s an outlier even among the non-human entities ^^ in polar opposite to the ones mentioned above, his natural disposition is to completely disregard the surrounding environment. the sole exception for that flame was han yoojin, and accordingly, han yoohyun only experiences change through han yoojin. no other environmental factors or beings are capable of influencing him.

+(Q&A)

Q) considering that, aside from han yoojin, seok shimyoung was at han yoohyun’s side for a very long time–then, does he have an understanding re:han yoohyun’s original nature, to an extent? A) seok shimyoung considers han yoohyun to be an entity beyond comprehension. from when they had first met, he’d quickly picked up on the fact that han yoohyun’s social sensibilities were less ‘human’, and closer to being a different ‘sort’ altogether; and having judged that, rather than attempting to teach and change han yoohyun, it would be more efficient to leverage that point instead, he structured haeyeon guild to follow after its guild leader. though he does not understand han yoohyun’s true nature, he registers him as a being with the prerogative to move differently from ordinary humans. of course, had han yoohyun attempted to incinerate everything the way his original nature had dictated, then seok shimyoung, too, would have rejected him, and viewed him as a threat; but, as han yoohyun was able to at least mimic basic social conventions through han yoojin’s influence, seok shimyoung thought that that much would suffice. as he’s the kind of person who puts little stock in the true nature of humans, even–rather than a human who would make a blunder of things, it’s his opinion that the intelligent monster who knows how to pretend to be human is the better alternative ^^ only, due to this, he misjudged the weight of the value that han yoojin’s existence holds to han yoohyun. if seok shimyoung had been able to understand han yoohyun a little better, then things would probably have been considerably different, whether for good or ill.

+(Q&A)

(han yoohyun) sung hyunjae feels no emotions or interest towards han yoohyun. this is because he has gleaned the truth of han yoohyun’s special constitution(특성)–that the human charade he puts on is realized solely through han yoojin. as han yoohyun without han yoojin is simply an ‘organism’, the need to pay him any mind disappeared entirely. that is why, after the first half, he doesn’t even bother to antagonize(provoke) han yoohyun. as he doesn’t view han yoohyun as an independent entity, and considers han yoojin to be his master, when sung hyunjae initiates a conversation, etc., with han yoohyun, his conduct is no different from if he were interacting with han yoojin himself. in the beginning, he supposed that han yoojin ought to let go of han yoohyun so that he could return to being a ‘flame’; but at present, he’s now of the mind that han yoohyun is necessary for han yoojin’s mental stability. however, the kind of change of heart he might still show is uncertain.

[marvelmusing]

Keep Your Judgement

Chapter Six

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova x Fem!Reader

Summary: Claiming the fox as your amplifier has an unexpected side effect, but you soon gain the confidence to attempt the merge of your forms.

Warnings: mentions of canon level violence.

My Masterlist • Series Masterlist

I think such a creature would be well suited to you. The General’s words play on a loop in your mind as you press the fox’s claw onto your hand. Shakily, you manage to join it to your skin, becoming a part of you.

Like calls to like.

It has been quite some time since I last met someone whose ambition rivals my own.

Out of one trap into another.

In such a dazed state, you hadn’t noticed the moment your thoughts were no longer alone. Vivid red fur flashes through your mind as memories not your own fill your head.

Grass fields. Drinking from small springs and quiet lakes. Hunters and traps. Cold winters. Pawprints in the snow. Summer fires. Underground burrows. Hiding and surviving. Shaded woodland. Shimmering sunlight.

Somehow, you can feel the fox nosing curiously against your thoughts. He rifles through your own memories, and you stiffen at feeling of being so exposed, silky fur slipping easily through the events of your life despite the sharp thorns surrounding them.

In an attempt at distracting yourself from the fox’s exploration, you unclasp your cloak and bundle the fox’s limp body up into the fabric. The thought of leaving him here doesn’t sit well with you, and as soon as that thought crosses your mind you can feel his appreciation.  

The fox’s natural instincts and your own cautious nature work together rather disjointedly as you reach the edge of the cave.

Reaching for your power is instantaneous, with your new amplifier you don’t need to clasp your hands together as you search the surrounding area for any guns or swords.

Nothing.

Inside your mind, the fox tilts his head rather pointedly. He knows the hunters have already moved on, but despite his confidence you had felt the need to check for yourself.

The bundle of your cloak and the fox’s body is heavy as you trek back towards the Sanctuary. While you walk, the fox weaves rather happily between your thoughts and memories, accustoming himself to the space. He appears to be accepting this much better than you are.

None of the books you had read prepared you for this. The bond between amplifier and amplified was severely unresearched – most likely because the otkazat’sya feared anything that might give a Grisha more power.

The fox makes a small noise of agreement in regard to your thoughts, startling you slightly. He seems apologetic and retreats quietly into the recess of your mind.   

Had you done something wrong? Was this supposed to happen? There aren’t many Grisha at the Sanctuary with amplifiers, and none you would trust enough to ask about this. Casting your mind back, you try to remember when Ivan gained his amplifier and whether he had mentioned any sort of mental link with the bear he killed.

The fox seems mildly interested as you retreat into the safety of the Sanctuary. Late afternoon sunlight filters through the dirty windows and the thin white curtains as you make your way through the hallways.

Feet moving without any prior thought, you move towards the General’s wing. The fox’s body would need to be dealt with, you couldn’t abandon it, but the thought of leaving it in your rooms unsettled you.

A familiar figure appears at the end of the corridor and your steps slow as he approaches.

At the sight of the General, the fox inside you perks up, lifting his head from where he’s been buried comfortably in your subconscious. He nudges at your thoughts as the two of you stop in front of one another.

Too distracted by the fox’s reaction, you don’t respond when the General greets you. At the sight of his frown, you lift your hand to show him your amplifier with a small smile.

“You found it,” he says quietly. You nod.

Carefully, he curls his fingers around your wrist, tilting your hand so that he can examine the fox claw in the light.

The feeling of his amplification isn’t foreign to you, but with the power of the fox already settling into your bones his power feels stronger than before. There’s another feeling, something you sense in the air whenever his nichevo’ya are created. Merzost. 

Inside your mind, the fox skitters about, clawing at your thoughts to gain your attention which you ignore in an attempt to figure out where the most merzost is inside him.

In response, the fox takes a clump of your memories between his teeth, shaking them like a ragdoll, and all your thoughts and feelings regarding the General spill out over your mind.

Silly little daydreams. That warm feeling in your chest whenever he says your name. How charming he looks when he smiles. The flush that rushes over your cheeks when he compliments your work.

As you try to remain focused on the man in front of you, the fox noses his way through your mind.

The fox perks up as he nudges at your memory of the gardens – when the General had sat beside you on the cold stone wall. The conversation you had echoes in your mind.

You wouldn’t have looked twice at me, back at the Little Palace.

Perhaps. But I’m looking at you now.

Put that down, you tell the fox.

The General says your name worriedly, his head tilted aside as his eyes flicker over your features, and you realise he must have already repeated your name – perhaps several times.

“How are you feeling?”

He speaks slowly, assessing your expression cautiously as you mentally attempt to clean up the mess the fox has made of your thoughts.

“Normal,” you answer quickly. He raises a brow at you. “I mean, I feel stronger. The amplifier has definitely responded positively.”

“And your theory?”

There is certainly a connection between you and the fox, but you have no idea whether you will be able to change form or if the fox has taken a permanent residence in your mind.

“Still undetermined.”

He nods slowly.

His gaze falls down to the large bundle in your other hand and you look down, gesturing slightly towards it.

“I didn’t want to leave him there.”

“I can see to this, if you would like?” he offers. The General moves slowly, reaching towards where your fingers are curled tightly into the fabric of your cloak.

Hesitating, you wait for the fox’s reaction though he appears to approve of the General, curling up amongst your thoughts of him. Glossy red fur strokes against your memories of dark eyes and a black kefta as the fox settles comfortably there.

You nod.

“Thank you.”

»»---------------------►

Fedoyr sweeps you up into a hug when you give him the news.

Plenty of the other Grisha are eager to see your amplifier and hear about the fox.

At the Little Palace, there was always a celebration whenever a Grisha gained an amplifier. With the current state of Ravka and the Grisha, you don’t expect any sort of spectacle for you today.

As the cooks dish out the evening meal, a small smile tugs at your lips. It isn’t much better than what is usually served here at the Sanctuary, but there’s an extra portion of bread for everyone and some vanilla cake which is a rare treat.

The thought of the General asking for something special for dinner tonight, even when he doesn’t dine with the rest of the Grisha, makes you feel even more pleased by your accomplishment.

As you tuck into your dinner, the fox is very pleased by the concept of a hot meal served on a plate.

On a typical evening, you would continue your work until the moon is high, but tonight you’re exhausted. Collapsing into bed, you fall asleep within minutes, the fox curled up peacefully in the back of your mind.

»»---------------------►

Paws scamper over hard ground as you weave amongst the carts and carriages parked along the street. At the sound of boots thudding rapidly, you tuck yourself under a cart, pressing your body low to the ground. A fox. You’re a fox. And someone has been chasing you.

Leather scuffs against stone and you look up sharply. A young boy stares at you, dark eyes observing you with an intensity that feels familiar, though you don’t recognise him.

The sound of a man’s voice has your heart racing with fear.

“You, boy. Which way did the fox go?” Dark eyes remain locked on yours and each beat of your heart echoes in your ears. “Boy?”

“I didn’t see a fox,” the boy with dark hair says.  

The man steps closer and you edge backwards. He isn’t alone. If you retreat too far, the other men hunting you will see the glimmer of your fur hiding beneath the cart.

“You sure about that? We saw it run this way.”

A woman appears from a nearby alleyway, her shadow inching towards the boy as she steps closer.

“I saw the fox only moments ago, passing by the butcher’s. No doubt it is hiding somewhere in the town centre.”

The man nods, turning towards the small crowd that had followed him.

“Keep your eyes sharp, men. It’s here somewhere.”

Tucking yourself beside the tall wheel of the cart, you watch the man walk away and the mother and son duck into the alleyway. She drags the boy by his wrist, and you follow them quietly, hiding in the shadows of the alley as they hurry.

“Mother. Why did you help them?”

“Stupid boy. If they do not find the fox they will seek out another amplifier. Surely you realise the danger of that for us. We must leave this place.”

“Again?”

“Yes again.”

There’s reluctance in the boy’s eyes but he nods in resignation.

Waking suddenly, you sit up in bed, moonlight illuminating your room. The fox is awake too, nudging at your thoughts as you ponder over the dream you have just awoken from.

“That’s what you were trying to tell me earlier,” you whisper quietly, speaking aloud to the creature in your mind. “You recognised the General.”

The boy in your dream had been him, you know it, which you assume means that the woman with him was Baghra. From the age of them both, the memory must have been from long ago. But the fox still remembers him.

The General had been the one to tell you that the fox lived nearby and now you know that the two of them had met, even if it had been only momentarily.

Destiny has never been a concept you’ve fully believed in, but perhaps you and the fox were meant to be one. Like calls to like after all.

Grisha theorists describe the process of claiming an amplifier as an exchange. The days you had spent with the fox had shown you his world of fields and woodland, and now you had showed him yours.

The fox understands living on the outskirts of the world, the Sanctuary isn’t unlike a burrow – a safe space carved out that can soon be reduced to a hole in the ground if someone is waiting at the entrance with a trap.

With that thought, you stand and dress quietly. Plucking up your spare cloak, you wrap it around your shoulders and head towards the door.

»»---------------------►

marvelmusing Tag List: @dreamlandcreations @blanchedelioncourt @idaofinfinity @slytherheign @ellooo0ooo @vixenofcourse @dumb-fawkin-bitch @jane-arthur @ilikefictionmen @budugu @watersquirtpewpewboomm @mysweetlittledesire @dhampiravidi

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KYJ Tag List: @tartiflvtte @weepingwitchofthewest

[ladydaybreaker]

Nations of "Of Nightshade and Woodsmoke"

So someone asked about the nations of this little au...so Imma do that to take my mind off of...everything...right now.

The nations' names are Aenea, Cyrius, Kyeva, Theialos, Kemetah, and Elios.

Aenea is an "everywhere and nowhere" based country though I took a heavy influence from Ireland and the heavily wooded lands of the US. It's mostly forests and lakes, with a port on the coast which made it valuable. It's people are tall, graceful…almost ethereal when they're fully grown. Their ears are slightly curved and their eyes reflect light. Their hair is more like feathers and shimmers with incandescent light under moon and star. They are incredibly light on their feet with quiet treads and very rarely take damage from a fall (always landed on their feet). They are "Beloved by the Night", so a lot of nocturnal creatures went into how I made them…cats, bats, owls etc. They have an accent that is almost breathy and low…but it sounds like it's from everywhere and nowhere. Because of their quiet tread and keen eyesight/hearing and ability to land catlike from long falls...they are often thought to be thieves. Uzi is from here.

Cyrius is more based on the Midwest/Plains States/Northwest US. Pine forests and rolling plains, the wildlife here is numerous and rather large. The people have many colors in regards to skin and hair…though they're all curly/wavy. Their eyes are shades of amber/orange/brown and very rarely husky blue. Some have patterns that look more like stripes or scales on their skin. Some have horns of crystal. Some have claws of the same. Their teeth are sharper than most and their fingernails and hair grow incredibly quickly. They are incredibly warlike and good horsemen/women. Their "tithe" to the empire isn't with courtesans…it's warriors. And it's every year they're taken (lot of rebellion here). Emmett is from here, and he was 10 when he was taken to Elios.

Kyeva is Scandanavia/Russia based. Thick pine forests frosted with snow, planes of ice and towers of glaciers on the northern sea, mountains cold and bitter as the people themselves. The people here are tall, well built with hair shades from black to deep indigo but frosted with white at the bottom and is ALWAYS straight as icecicles. Their skin is almost always snow-paper white and has thousands of tiny crystals frosted over it that cause a wavering effect (snow blindness). Their eyes are probably the most striking...shades of slate blue/grey that has bright silver/white "cracks" and/or a snowflake in the iris. The latter is as if the pupil is the snowflake's heart. They are known for being extremely hardy and tough people with an affinity for the cold...they do not do well in warmer climates or with fire. They are often employed as miners, warriors, or guides in the snowy north. Doll is from here.

Theialos is Greek/Mediterranian based. Rolling hills of olive and laurel trees on a coast of white beaches and azure-turquois waters with mountains to the east. The people there are...well...imagine a greek statue. Beautiful and chiseled as if from marble...though they tend to be more golden tan as if spending all their life in the sun. They have eyes as bright and colorful as gemstones. They also have what is called a "birthstone" somewhere on their body. A beautiful gem that grows with them and is surrounded by a gold 'mount'. These are incredibly sensitive and can be used against the Theialosian for good (intimacy or stress relief) or evil (torture). Their people are incredibly charismatic and their most notable trait is the ability to know when someone is lying to them...or convince them to do what they want. They are heavily employed as Assassins. Thad and Lizzy are from here.

Kemetah is Egyptian/Mediterranian in feel as well. It's the sister nation to Theialos and is on the other side of the mountain border, a great river and oasises dot the shimmering sands full of ground up gemstones that seem to blaze with the setting sun amidst many spires of crystal. The people here are olive skinned...with gemstones that range from apple seed sized to quarter sized dotting their skin in beautiful patterns that strangely enough seem to keep them cool. Their hair colors are also very bright and jewel-like. Gemstones, dyes and salt are their exports. They do not do well in the dark as they claim to hear 'whispers' and begin to experience panic attacks if left in a dark room too long. They are natural dancers and singers. Rebecca and Darren are from here.

Elios is based heavily over Great Britain and it's lands it used to rule over. Split into three regions: Northern, Central, and Southern. Northern Elios is more based on Ireland/Scotland as it shares a border with Northern Aenea (Sam is from here!). Central Elios was based more on England and it's lower born citizens have more of a cockney-ish accent (J is from Central Elios). Southen Elios is where the capital lies, bordering southern Aenea and Theialos (western and eastern respectively) and has more of an Australian accent sounding people (Tessa and V are from here). They have eyes that seem to blaze and flicker like flames in the sunlight with freckles of molten gold on their bodies. They are more attuned with fire and are unlikely to be burned in the event of one. Iron, Steel, and glass are their exports. They are the main ruling faction and have conquered all the above nations in various wars.

To the south of Elios and Kemetah are jungles which have not been conquered (though the Eliosian Empire is working on that.) The east of Kemetah is steppes and badlands that have been blasted by some ancient war with the gods and man that no man can live in. To the west of Aenea is ocean and to the north of Kyeva is nothing but winter wasteland. It is unknown if there is more beyond these.

[marvelsfavoriteuncle]

Jarvis tapes on Jason’s life (or at least what the footage tells you) 🎞️

Jason Grayson Underwood was born at twelve-oh-one a.m., April 20th, 1922

at Children's Hospital, San Francisco,

the second child of Fran and Jonathan Underwood. His sister Dolores Marie Underwood only be 5 years old.

On the 16th of June in 1929, Mr & Mrs. Underwood would divorce taking both children their separate ways.

~~~~

August 30th 1943, Howard Stark and his sister Elizabeth Stark would come into the picture, change his life forever.

Meeting both of them during the war, alongside Agent Margaret ‘Peggy’ Carter. Who would later on become his sister in more ways than one.

Eighty-seven days later Jason met James Bucky Barnes and The Howling Commanders, crossing paths on the battle field with Captain America.

~~~~

After the war ended, Jason Underwood went on to work for the SSR. He had the opportunity to work selling watches in Texas and New York, but went on to become an associate of the organization.

Which is where he met Agent Jack Thompson, Daniel Sousa and plenty of others.

However he had another job underneath his belt as him, Edwin Jarvis and Agent Carter were given a job to locate Howard Stark’s stolen items while he hide away.

The whole time, half of the country was after him.

That’s when he would met his sister once again, Dottie Underwood, A Black Widow. As she worked with an scientist and Soviet spies to frame Stark’s items as dangerous as they seemed.

It was complicated.

He was not pleased and made sure his sister was behind bar for her crimes, with working for the wrong side. But she did not care, she never did.

He shot the scientist and spies with the help of the SSR who realized who was responsible for all of this.

They freed Howard and his sister from all charges. Jack Thompson became Chief Executive Officer in New York City.

But they all know Peggy Carter deserves all the credit for the job.

Daniel Sosua was promoted to Chief in California.

~~~~~

In 1947 New York City, Chief Jack Thompson and Agent Peggy Carter of the Strategic Scientific Reserve (SSR) apprehend Soviet spy Dottie Underwood.

Newly appointed Chief Daniel Sousa of the Los Angeles SSR office meets with Detective Andrew Henry, who has discovered a woman's body in a frozen lake during a heat wave.

That’s when Jason Underwood was called from his newly acquired home in Los Angeles for the job, requesting Agent Carter to sign onto the job.

Howard and his Elizabeth Stark were living in Los Angeles as well, making films and creating new inventions for their company.

~~~~

Ten weeks after filming a new movie Howard was creating and working on the case, Jason was driving north one night to his shared studio beach cottage when something highly unusual occurred, something almost magical...

Snow fell in Los Angeles, California. Heavy winds and hail stormed all into one. The car swing over the slippery slope of the bridge as he drove onto the main water, as he tried to pull up.

But failed to get the brakes to work.

The immersion in the frigid water caused Jason's body to go into an anoxic reflex, instantly stopping his breathing and slowing his heartbeat.

Within 2 minutes, Jason Underwood's core temperature had dropped to 87 degrees...

his heart stopped beating.

He was silent underneath the table of water for 7 minutes.

At 11: 55 a bolt of lightning struck the vehicle discharging half a billion volts of electricity and producing 60,000 amperes of current.

Its effect was threefold.

First, the charge defibrillated Jason Undwood's heart.

Second,

He was jolted out of his anoxic state causing him to draw his first breath in 3 minutes.

Third, based on Von Lehman's principle of electron compression in deoxyribonucleic acid, which will be discovered in the year two thousand thirty-five, Jason Underwood will henceforth be immune to the ravages of time...

he will never age another day.

~~~~~

Of course, he didn’t know that would be a harsh yet effective condition until later.

Wrapped in a cold sweat, dizziness and fatigue were the consequences of the accident.

He was in bed for a few days at the house or made to be sat down, as a nurse took his temperature while he helped study the case.

A field of zero matter and Whitney Frost, 2 times Oscar nominee who was a scientist at heart, was behind it. They hoped it wouldn’t be the rest of mission and the caseload conditions that harmed them.

But faith had other plans.

Peggy took the rest, after her painful defeat of almost being impaled by the help,to call Jason’s sister Dottie for undercover work.

It wasn’t the best thing, but worked like a charm. Dottie left getting her cut of the money and ran.

Soon enough, Jason, Peggy and others were up for the challenge to help finish the race in their job. It was a long and difficult process for the entire team but they made it work.

Zero matter was seemingly gone. Whitney Frost was put in prison.

~~~

Weeks went by.

He studied long and hard for weeks, working with Howard, Peggy, Dr. Wilkie Jones and Ana Jarvis on cases. Figure out the answer to the questions they had from their previous research on the mission.

And the effects left behind.

Jason found nothing on his plate of studies onto what happened to him, as the years went by he noticed his friends slowly turning around with age, as he stayed the same.

It wasn’t zero matter or the previous time on trips that harmed him.

It was something else.

Some would see it differently, thinking it as a blessing that he stopped aging, others might’ve called it a curse.

It just depends on who you were talking to.

For Jason, he made the blonde sick to his stomach and want to hide behind closed doors.

As the years passed, Jason credited her unchanging appearance to a combination of a healthy diet, exercise, heredity, and good luck.

He would travel around, change his name and mind. Leave for a couple of weeks every new decade.

It was all to prevent confusion, controversy and added pressure from anyone who might’ve wanted to sent him to a lab to be tested for his status. 

To protect himself and his loved ones…

~~~~

~~~~~~~

// There’s a tale. Remember to like, comment and reblog.

|| Tags: @missstrawbs2001 @purpleprincessonfyre @meiramel @gcthvile @ask-starrk @rickb-chaos @gaminggirlsstuff @wizzzardofoz @cherrysft @luna-d-marsh @sherloquestea @rooster-84 and etc

[blank-slate-jay]

first time doing this so yeah

sort of snowy vibe where reader manages to defend himself and kill a bear but not without getting injured

joel's out there for whatever reason you like and sees the whole thing, basically feels obligated to help this random stranger because it wouldn't sight right with him to leave them bleeding out in the snow? he like patches the wounds n stuff

loved the secret admirer one and i saw the post so i thought id give this a go! sorry if its weird

Heal My Wounds, Heal My Heart

Joel Miller x Male!Reader

Word Count:2.6k

Tags: Comfort, Injury, Blood, Soft!Joel, Nightmares, mention of alcohol, mention of death

A/N: Not weird at all Anonymous, thanks for the request! I actually learned more about bear behavior writing this funny enough. Glad you liked one of my previous fic, hope you take a liking to this one. Enjoy!

Shots rang out between your heavy grunts and the growls of the rageful mammal. You had stepped into its territory, not purposefully and completely unbeknownst to you. You were just trying to get by, just trying to find a safe place to rest before dark. Everything was peaceful up till that point until you were faced with a bear, a fairly aggressive one that charged at you. 

Seeing it afar, you were obligated to turn around and leave its sight. The moment it saw you, it was instantly startled by your presence, halting its interest in catching any food near the lake and standing on its hind legs.

It was likely scared, as the bear itself wasn’t very large, likely still in its earlier years. Maybe the young mammal was just gonna watch as you walked back into the woods, but no. It charged at you, either threatened by you or perhaps desperate for any source of meat. 

Intentions didn’t matter, the animal was charging you down and you took shots at it. They weren’t as effective as you thought, the small bullets looked as if they barely fazed it. What didn’t help was your shaking hands, after running out of bullets, you needed to reload. You groan, making a split second decision to just run. Fighting a bear head on, would make for a cool story if the odds weren’t stacked in your favor. Not to mention you needed to actually survive the encounter to tell the tale, which wouldn’t be likely if you tried being a badass. 

Your steps clashed with the snow below, attempting to run as fast as you could. The snow wasn’t deep, rather thin enough to see the grass still sticking out. Running proved to be effective, adrenaline kicking into high gear. You didn’t know how long you ran, just focusing on finding any way to ensure safety. In the back of your head, you knew it was just something to give you comfort in this hopeless situation, nothing was gonna save you from this other than your own wit or luck. 

Unfortunately your tactic wasn’t good enough cause you felt a sharp pair of claws strike your back. You scream out, falling into the harsh ground with a thud, the blades of the greenery engulfed your face. 

With your face in the ground, you knew this was it. Your end wasn’t going to be by a clicker, a horde or even a person; but an animal, definitely not something you expected would come to be. 

You groaned into the soil, anticipating its sharp teeth to sink in your skin. Even with the layer of clothes you had on, you were sure the bear would have no problem getting through. 

Everything felt like it was going in slow-motion, preparing for your last moments to be filled with growls from the beast. What came instead, was a gunshot. It sounded heavy, causing the bear to growl once more, turning its attention away from you. The heavy bullet pegged its neck before another hit its skull as it tried running. The mammal went down, collapsing a couple of feet away from your legs. 

Hearing nothing, other than your own quick breaths, had a sense of relief washing over you. You were saved from being mauled. But by who? The question repeats in your head becoming a lot more unsettling when realizing it was a person; a total stranger. Your condition only made you fearful as you pushed yourself onto your elbows. Looking up, you glance in the direction of the ever growing footsteps. A man, dressed in a thick brown coat, walked over to you with his weapon in hand. He stopped just beside you, making it hard to see his face. 

You mumble, “Help…please…”, seeing if the man was dangerous or not. Chances were he’d just put you out of your misery, after seeing what had transpired.  

He didn’t, the man pulls the strap of his weapon over his shoulder, and kneels down to you. The man looks you over, seeing the dark red slashes across your coated back. 

“Damn”, he murmured observing the long trail that went down your back. The beast got you good. He leans his hand into your shoulder, “Can you walk?”

“I think, yeah.” 

There was some doubt in your voice, but at least you were cohesive. The man would’ve taken any answer that implied you could function. “C’mon, you're not safe out here.” 

The man pulled you up until you were on your knees. He then gets in front of you, getting his hands under your arms, and yanking you to your feet. The whole process had you wincing. 

Finally standing you started to feel light-headed. You lean into the man, accidentally, feeling your balance becoming unsteady. You grapple onto his bicep to keep from falling. In turn the man grabs your sides, “Easy.”

It was difficult, with your head feeling like it was going to implode. The man then let out a whistle. You assumed it was for his horse, cause there was no way he was out walking aimlessly like you were. This man looked like he had himself situated compared to you. 

You waited, both hearing the sounds of the horses' hooves growing closer; along with a neigh. 

You looked back at the deceased bear, and then turned back to the man, who continued to hold you upright, “Thank you”. 

He nods. Although his face was mostly stone cold, there was a glint of concern behind his eyes. 

The horse had slowed its pace just outside the two’s reach. The man carefully walked you over, allowing you to lean your head into his shoulder. Strangely he didn’t seem to mind at all. He lets you take a second to put your weight into the horse, breathing out you try hoisting yourself up, failing with the pain. He had to help you onto the horse, before he himself got up into the front. 

Grabbing the reins, he looks over his shoulder, “Hold on, gonna be awhile.”

You do just that, wrapping your arms around his waist. He was off, taking you somewhere you weren’t sure of. Regardless of where, you were sure he had no bad intentions.

“What’s your name”, you asked.

He hesitates and doesn’t answer right away. You thought he might not have heard you, but he does indeed reply, “Joel.”

From there on you two remained silent throughout the ride, say for the occasional grunts that slipped out of you. You squeezed the man each time the sharpness increases, randomly. It made the ride agonizing to sit through, making the journey feel much longer.

The horse came to a slow stop near a small cabin. You don’t know where you were anymore, you’d had your eyes closed for most of the ride, and your mind was too focused on the pain. 

The man, Joel, got off the horse, helping you down and taking you into the house. He set you down onto the couch, careful not to touch your back. He steps away, removing both his jacket and going over to retrieve some supplies. 

Sitting on the couch you couldn’t help leaning forward as just across from you was a fire, a small one within the fireplace, it was enough heat to keep you from shivering.

Joel had returned with a bucket in hand, along with what looked to be a first aid kit. He sets the supplies down on the table just in front of the couch. "Arms up," he says.

You really didn't want to, but at the same time, you needed something to ease the pain. You lifted them up, gritting your teeth harshly. Joel had helped remove all your layers until you were completely shirtless. It felt strange being this exposed to someone you just met not even an hour ago.

His eyes lingered on you for a bit, observing features of you that weren't even freshly injured, He was supposed to be telling you to turn around, but it looked like he might've got distracted.

You reminded him of what he was about to do, by putting your back to him hoisting your one leg onto the couch while the other is placed on the floor. "How bad does it look?"

Your question got him back on track, causing him to furrow his brows at the sight. His hesitation to say was probably more telling than a response. The scratches were rather dark now, beginning to swell in some areas with strains of blood leaking down. "Pretty bad," he says, grabbing the rag from inside the bucket of water, "It looks like it might be getting infected."

"Oh great..." you comment, hearing the man squeeze the rag drag dry. His weight hit the couch behind you, causing you to shift while he scoots closer to you.

"Ready?"

You hummed, straightening up your posture. He didn't even give you another second after responding to prepare, the cold rag ran up one of the sharp trails, getting you to yelp. “Damn,” you whined, your fingers digging into the cushion.

“Thought you were ready,” the man says wiping away at all the red.

“And I’d thought you’d be more gentle.”

This got Joel to huff, amused by your retort. He ran another stroke across the next scratch. “Seems gentle ain’ suit you.” He noticed the other scars along your body, some overlapping the others. What stories were behind those, he wondered.

You raised your brow, gritting your teeth, “Why you say that?”.

He wanted to point out the old scars but refused, and that case he’d have to admit he was looking you over, “Not often you come across someone who travels alone. Usually people stick to groups. Seems odd you ain’ in one.”

“I get that a-lot, everybody I've run into thinks I'm a distraction. They believe I'm bait for a group, and that they'll jump out and kill them."

Joel knew that mentality well, after all he’s been on both sides of said scenario. It was haunting how many people he killed during those days, at least he now had a keen eye for when something like that was about to go down.

He hums. After rubbing off all the blood, he reaches over to the table again, pulling out a second rag, the used rag gets dumped into the bucket to rinse. Joel also opens up the first aid kit, pulling out a tiny container of alcohol. "I don't get that impression from you," the man assumes, poring a small bit of the liquor into the cloth.

"Really," you piped up carefully looking over your shoulder.

The man glares back at you. "Yeah, really."

The corner of your lips rose, at last someone wasn't accusing you of being a raider. From his relaxed voice, there wasn't much evidence to assume he was lying. The fact that he even thought about helping you should've been enough to disprove any suspicion. Although, saying your thoughts out loud would make you a hypocrite.

You couldn't trust everybody of course, but assuming everyone was untrustworthy wouldn't be of much advantage to you.

Joel finished patching you up, through applying alcohol, adding a couple of stitches, and bandaging the long scrapes; you could finally just relax. He had told you, you could stay and even offering to make a bed out of a couple of blankets. You thanked him and preferred to stay rested on the sofa where you had dosed off not long after.

You shook through the night, jerking and twitching each time you felt the cutting sensation run up your back. It made sleeping impossible, and the moment you did fall asleep, a nightmare was awaiting you inside your unconscious state. You dreamed of its claws, the jagged teeth, the crushing weight above you; playing the outcome of it tearing into you.

It felt real, too concrete, you could've swore the dream was reality, and you being saved was an outcome you made up in your head within the few seconds you had left to live.

You awoke to a slight brush run against your arm. You were still half seated in the sofa, only now leaning into the back cushion with one shoulder. You nearly jumped up at the sudden touch, thinking again you were still in the horrid dream. You couldn't be more relieved to see that it was just Joel, his figure looming in front of you.

"Hey," his voice comes out as a whisper.

For the first time you took a liking to the man's accent, the tenderness behind his vocals might just be the cure for your night terrors.

He continued to speak, "I heard you from the other room, sounded like a hustle out here," he explains, referring to your occasional grunts that rang out across the living room.

You realized what he was talking about, you flutter your eyes shut in humiliation, "Sorry," was all you could say. You felt obligated to explain yourself, to give him a good reason why you were causing a commotion. "Was having a bad dream. I'll try keeping it down, I-". It felt like a poor excuse but it was genuinely all you had to offer. Joel was understanding to your surprise.

"It's quite alright, I get those myself,” his face turning to a frown as he explained, with his thump stroking in rhythm on your skin.

The embarrassment, subsides, feeling a small connection with Joel. You didn’t expect someone, as gruff as he was to be disturbed by anything, let alone a passing dream. It didn’t make you doubt that his dreams were way worse then yours.

The older man breathes out, letting his hand slide off of your shoulder. No please, you thought, desiring his hands against your skin.

He opened his mouth, about to speak, but you grabbing his wrist cut him off. Both of you looked shocked, you more than him at your reflexes. You completely ignored the pain surging through your flesh, completely caught in a trans.

Your gazes tangled together, making your face feel flush. You look away and guide his hand towards your skin. His hands, massive in your grasp, fell once more into its previous position. Feelings of calmness and delight filled you again; just a strong as before.

It registers in Joel's mind, seeing how you reacted to him releasing his touch and the way your body relaxed reliving his warmth, that you enjoy it.

He decided to sit down next to you, this time in the direction you were facing, his touch never leaving your arm. The man wasn't tired anyway, lack of sleep just felt normal nowadays.

His fingers run long circles up and down your skin, getting a shaky breath out of you which managed to settle after a minute. No longer did your breath feel as if it was hitching your chest. His touch was sending small tingles all the way up your shoulder.

You started feeling your eyelids becoming heavy, becoming much harder to stay awake and savior how gentle the man was touching you. You could see through your blurred vision his head tilting in your direction from time to time, as he laid back into the cushion finding your skin comforting to caress.

You smirk thinking having some sort of company was his reason for rescuing you. With one eye peeled open you asked, "Did you save me just for this?" It was more of a drowsy joked than anything that slipped out.

He didn’t answer, he just kept his gaze focused on the wall ahead. Possibly even biting back the urge to smile. It was impossible to tell, with your ever darkening vision. You don’t know if you’ll get ab answer, most certainly not that night, and possibly never upfront. Still, the idea brought another smile to your face before drifting off into darkness.

[belovedsap]

Ice Breathing Forms

~ Created by Miyuki Yukimura ~

~ Derived from Water Breathing ~

• First Form - Ice Breaker

> The user mainly uses this attack in a lunge attack as they cause multiple horizontal cuts on their opponent. Most compare the attacks to a pickaxe destroying ice from a frozen lake.

• Second Form - Icicle Rain

> The user moves their sword at a quick speed in a vertical manner as they cause multiple minor cuts, although this is seen more as a defensive move.

• Third Form - Snow Fight

> Most Ice Forms are quick to attack but in this form, this is a counterattack as it’s a much more “long” attack compared to the other forms. Although using the phrase “snow,” the feeling of it is much more like hail being thrown. With that, it feels like the hail gets engraved to the skin to cause a burning sensation which is actually the cuts.

• Fourth Form - Hail Storm

> The user gathers monuments as they dig their heels into the ground before jumping high and harshly landing down.

> This Form can be mixed with other forms although it’s quite difficult as it requires a lot of stamina and focus on the arms and legs.

{ Original Form: Miyuki tends to twist her body sharply as she’s falling back down. As she falls, she prepares her sword to strike. Most compare it to a cat landing, as the impact of her attack feels like hail preparing to take harsh land. }

{ Shizuru’s Reform: Although similar to Miyuki, he turns his entire body so that he is facing down as he prepares his sword for the attack. As he does, he usually takes a hit before turning his body again to land his feet against his opponent to knock them down. }

(Shizuru ; The little brother of Miyuki, Ice Tsugoku)

• Fifth Form - Swirling Blizzard

> Similar to Water Breathing’s Sixth Form, Whirlpool twists its body, and the user uses their blade to cause a fierce whirling motion. Instead of creating a whirlpool effect, it causes a below-temperature feeling of gushes of air one would feel in a blizzard. Instead of shredding the area within its current, it just strings the area along as if it’s being blown by the air. This continues until it hits the opponent, where the temperature itself will cause bodily harm, from a burning sensation or/and turned into a frozen state.

> It works best works in cold climates as the attack doubles the lower temperature. This attack requires the user to lower their own temperature and because of this, it can be quite difficult to pull it off without learning Total Concentration Breathing first. It helps maintain the user’s body balance out as the body will be cold enough to make this fifth formwork while not making the user get threatening levels of hypothermia.

• Sixth Form - Feigning Frost

> Feigning Frost is a fake out attack as the name says. It appears as a harsh attack similar to Swirling Blizzard but instead of causing a torturous feeling, it gives more of a sweet feeling one would feel about a childhood memory. When the opponent is harmed by this attack, the feeling is much like snowflakes landing on their face. Similar to the gentleness of Water Breathing, Feigning Frost is the only form that resembles its closeness of it.

{Shizuru’s Reform: Shizuru manages to change the format to make it much easier as it requires multitasking to remain the fake out and make the effect happen. By altering the movement by creating a heavy snow appearance than a snowstorm. It's equally as threatening yet not as much force to create the appearance of a painful attack soon to be.}

• Seventh Form - Iceberg Slam

> This form is when the user causes two quick slashes on both opponent’s sides, which at least seem like small scratches. But moments later, the more the user keeps attacking, the opponent feels much more pain than the attacks would regularly feel. It's like the small scratches or cracks, increase immensely where causing bigger cracks to the point where the entire iceberg, cracks apart.

• Eighth Form - Crystal Splinter

> After the user causes a slash, or multiple depending on stamina, the opponent earns feeling aftermath if the opponent was hit where it feels as if there were crystals emerging in the wounds that were caused by this attack. Similar to like roots growing in an erratic manner inside another organism.

• Ninth Form - Glacier Collapse

> This form requires the user to completely cause their temperature to go down until their own body heat feels like ice itself. This allows the user to land only one heavy blow in any way, either slicing the opponent perfectly in half or puncturing through them. After the attack, the opponent feels as if ice is growing around their body and forcing them to freeze in place. Then with any attack from any Breathing Style, the opponent easily “falls apart” like breaking a glacier.

> This form is quite dangerous as the user temperatures can cause various illnesses if not psychically built for it, not treated soon after, or/and not able to regulate body temperature to return to a decent temperature. For Miyuki, this would always be her final resolution, even as the creator herself, it has taken large chunks of her health that required her to be hospitalized for weeks.

[bardic-tales]

Content Warning: Grief, Death, Cancer, Loss of a Loved One, Familial Disconnection, Cancer, Death of a Pet, Funeral, Emotional Distress, Mental Health Struggles, Self-Blame, Isolation, Prolonged Mourning, Absence of Closure, Regret

This is a little something I wrote today. It's hard to believe my grandfather will be gone a year in Jan. I needed to try to write something about this today. I also want to sort of apologize for the somberness that I've been in lately. This time of the year is going to be so hard for me, since this is when the huge chunk of deaths occurred over 2 years.

Writing always makes me feel a little better as it helps me visualize what is bothering me.

It's been almost a year now since my grandfather passed. The anniversary of his death is approaching, and I still feel the weight of that absence. I remember when I got that call from my mother. She said, "Pap's gone." I was in my apartment with my husband and daughter, the distance that had grown since I moved was ever more real in that moment.

Throughout this time, I have noticed one thing. My family had already moved on, but I am stuck, stuck in the moment where I was told he had slipped away, still unable to move past it. So, I pretend. I throw myself into my fandoms, into my Sephica content, and into Final Fantasy as a whole to forget that I am still unable to move past it.

It's strange how life goes on for everyone around you in your family, but you remain frozen in a place of grief. My mom and my aunts had their time to grieve, to process, to say goodbye in the ways that they needed. They were there when he passed, of course, sitting with him in those final moments, holding his hand. But I wasn't.

Mom let me know when I called on Thanksgiving that Pap was in the hospital for two weeks. They watched as the cancer ravaged his body. Yet I was still at home, at my apartment, 6 hours from the hospital, anxiously waiting for the release of Rebirth. I feel like a fool: an idiot who doesn't know what's important. Excited to see the changes in the game and whatever content for Bianca and Sephiroth I could make. Maybe, that is why this ship is so important to me? I don't know.

It's not like I didn't want to go, either. I wanted to be there for him, for my family, but the weather had turned. The snow began to fall heavily. The roads were dangerous, and my grandmother -- who had always been the strong and practical one as she is where I get my strength -- called me repeatedly the week leading up to the funeral to tell me not to risk it. That they didn't want to bury me, my daughter, and my husband, too. She said that Pap wouldn't have wanted me to drive in that weather, especially since we were having Lake Effect snow. I heard her voice crack on the phone as she said, "Don't come, Nikki. Stay home. Pap wouldn't want you to risk yourself."

Of course, she was right. I knew he wouldn't have wanted me to take that risk: or risk my own little family. But, in some way, it felt like I have been denied closure. At the time, I was okay with it. I was the strong one up here and pushed down my feelings to be there for my daughter. I couldn't attend the funeral. I couldn't' say goodbye. And even now, I haven't brought myself to go back to the house or even really call home. You see, when I called home, it would be Pap who answered and we would talk about whatever projects he had done around the house. Now, it's just . . . silence. And facebook? I haven't been on there as the last time I was there, I saw my uncle and his family on vacation to Disney Land three months after Pap's death. It's not like I begrudge them. I just can't understand how they did it.

How do you move on? My family, on the other hand, has managed to move forward. They went through the motions -- the wake, the funeral, the gathering of memories -- and they kept moving. It's what you're supposed to do, right? Life keeps moving. No matter how heavy the grief may be. They visited his grave, cleaned out his belongings, and settled his affairs. They've accepted it in a way that I just haven't been able to. And I feel . . . out of touch.

I haven't moved on. I can't help but feel there's a part of me that's still with him, a part of me that hasn't been able to let go of the man who used to take me on his UPS deliveries and tell me stories on our porch, who would show an interest in my books that I was writing even if he didn't understand what 'dark fantasy' was, and how to change a tire and other things with my hands. The man who would always have a kind word to say and whose presence made ME feel safer. How can I move on from that? A person can't.

In the last two years, there have been five deaths: five people and one animal I loved who are now gone. The first was my husband's 17-year-old cousin, killed in a fatal car crash where the driver, high at the time, was given only probation, sparing him jail time but stealing closure from our family. Then, Loki, my emotional support cat, passed on from cancer a month after his diagnosis, leaving a hole that no other animal can fill (even though Skye tries). I am still grieving him. My husband's aunt was next. She passed away from Covid on Thanksgiving, the same day I learned Pap had been hospitalized. Soon after, my grandfather passed, I found out that a mutual on here passed away too. She was always so warm and kind to everyone. These losses have stacked on top of each other, each one heavier than the last.

But still, I haven't gone home. Losing Pap was the final blow, a sharp and sudden reminder that not everything lasts forever. It's like if I go back, it will make it too real. Too final. I feel like I am stuck in limbo and the grief will not lessen. I can't stand the idea of seeing the chair he used to sit in empty or hearing the silence that has replaced his simple question 'How's the writing going, Coal?" Oh, how I hated that nickname growing up, but what I wouldn't give to hear it once more.

When I talk briefly to my family now, I hear the change in their voices and the way they've started to fill the gaps he left behind. My mom, who used to speak of him with so much love, has found a new rhythm in life. My grandmother also. I don't fault them for it. I know they're healing. But I'm still stuck in the snow surrounding his death, in that moment when I got that call, and still back in that space where he was here, still living in the before. Pap to me was not just a grandfather. He was my father in every sense of the word.

As the anniversary of his death approaches, I know I will have to face it. I have to face the fact that he's gone and that life continues to move, whether I am ready or not. My daughter is graduating this year. She has her pick of colleges. I should be happy and shouldn't have been crying all day, but that is the thing about grief? You don't know when it's going to strike.

Maybe, next year, I'll go home. Maye I'll find the courage to step through that door and finally say goodbye. But for now, I'm still holding onto the memory of him, still feeling that sting of absence in the quiet moments when I least expect it.

[hannah-heartstrings]

Writing Patterns/First 10 Lines Tag Game

Thanks for the tag @emeraldhazeart!

Tagging: @druidx @inkysqueed, and I'm not sure who all else has 10 fics posted, so: open tag!

Rules: list the first line of your last 10 (posted) fics and see if there’s a pattern!

I think I already know what the patterns are going to be, but we'll see. I'm assuming I go backwards. I also assume posted fics doesn't count wips. I'm not sure about snippets either but I included a few of the longer ones that feel kinda like fics to me.

1. Local Rule

            Stepping out of the barracks and into the dim morning light, Fairwyn crossed the courtyard where Garrus was already talking to a young redguard.

2. I didn't give it a name here on tumblr, but its file name is Date

            Garrus tugged on his red silk cuff. This shirt was way too expensive for him, what was he even doing?

3. Sweet Surprise

            Cradling two sweet rolls in one hand Lecrinn held them close as she pushed the heavy door with the other. She opened it just enough to slip out, leaving the chatter and warmth of the busy inn for the street outside. It was also busy and warm but more tolerably so.

4. Heart Warmed

            Cheydinhal marketplace swirled with activity from people and snow.

5. I Got You

            The world had faded away. Lecrinn and Garrus stood by the road, her head nestled against his shoulder as his leaned down where their foreheads touched, eyes closed, arms around the other.

6. Friday Kiss Tag Game

            Sitting along the riverbank, Lecrinn and Garrus laughed.

7. Starlight

            She was like a shooting star, Garrus thought as Lecrinn walked down the street towards him, showing up unexpected and catching all of your attention.

8. Stalemate

            Warm light flickered across the stone floor as the fireplace crackled, it turning to a blur as Baurus’s eyelids drooped. As his head began to nod he quickly straightened, snapping himself back awake. “All right, Martin,” he walked over to the table covered in a pile of books, “time for bed.”

9. You're My Rest

            Willow branches swayed over the lake shore, their shadows dancing across a quilt and the dishes strewn across, left with crumbs, drops, and last bites.

10. Shield You from the Rain

            Light rain patted against the dirt road, rippled through puddles, and left drops on the grass. It stirred up the scent of fresh earth and left a chill in the late morning air.

What I thought, I like to start by setting the scene. I always have but I haven't always been good at it. I used to struggle with it so much that I'd end up skipping over it. A lot of times the first paragraph was the last thing I wrote, which actually helped a lot so, can recommend.

My favorite ones here though break from the pattern a bit. Starlight and I Got You start with a quick line that sets up the theme and then sets the scene, I might look for opportunities to do that more often, I like the effect.

The other patterns are that they're all Oblivion fanfiction and they're mostly my ship. And that I don't finish nearly as much as I write, the amount of files I scrolled past to find the posted ones. 😅

[bookgeekgrrl]

My media this week (8-14 Dec 2024)

📚 STUFF I READ 📚

😍 Network Effect (The Murderbot Diaries #5) (Martha Wells, author; Kevin R Free, narrator) - I had a jones for some Murderbot

🥰 System Collapse (The Murderbot Diaries #7) (Martha Wells, author; Kevin R Free, narrator)

🥰 then a small thing happened (BeaArthurPendragon) - 41K, stucky no powers AU - "After a bomb ends combat photographer Bucky Barnes’ career several decades ahead of schedule, he returns to the lake house he hasn’t visited since his parents died to put the pieces back together over the long, lonely winter...an unexpected friendship with his elderly neighbor—and then her astronaut son—leads to the kind of connection he never thought he’d get to have." perfect holiday fic, very gentle and lovely

🙂Snowed In: An MM Romance Charity Anthology (Kiki Clark, Lark Taylor, Nicole Dykes, Cora Rose) - read 4 of the 9 stories, fine, what it says on the tin

😊 Constituent Service: A Third District Story (John Scalzi, author; Amber Benson, narrator) - "Parks and Recreation meets the Federation of Planets" - my fave flavor of Scalzi, the comedic chaos adventure

😍 tender is the Ghost series (Hark_bananas) - 191K, Stucky, post-WS canon-divergent recovery fic; Part 1: A Little Key, a Heavy Door - 39K, almost epistolary; Part 2: Tender is the Ghost - 151K main fic - amazing, magnificent, warm, fluffy, domestic, delightful. forever fave

💖💖 +118K of shorter fic so shout out to these I really loved 💖💖

Endgame: 2014 (Speranza) - MCU: stucky, 5K - Part 24 of 4 Minute Window - "and in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make" - the most perfect way to end and begin this legendary series. I genuinely cried at the rightness of it.

DILLIGAF (One-EyedBossman (desert000rose), SecretFandomStories) - MCU: stucky, 37K - Part 16 of Differently Okay Local Idiots - another lovely entry in this fantastic series, just spending a weekday evening with the boys

📺 STUFF I WATCHED 📺

Would I Lie To You? - Jo Brand, James Acaster & Mel Giedroyc

A Cup of Yuletide Fear: Monsters of the Holiday Season With Cory Hutcheson - Session 2: The Women of Winter

Monster of the Month w/ Colin Dickey: Frankenstein

Handsome - Pretty Little Episode #17

Nobody Asked - s1, e2

Handsome - Sharon & Bram ask a question… in song!

Ghosts (US) - s4, e7

Elementary - s5, e18-24; s6, e1-6

What We Do In The Shadows - s6, e10

Brilliant Minds - s1, e11

D20: Time Quangle - "A Candied Coup" (s1, e3)

🎧 PODCASTS 🎧

Pop Culture Happy Hour - Black Doves

The Curious History of Your Home - Beds

⭐ The Atlas Obscura Podcast - Circling The Great Loop on a JetSki

It's Been a Minute - Your date gave you 'The Ick?' That might be a YOU problem.

Switched on Pop - Kendrick Lamar: from Pulitzer to pop

Shedunnit - Father Christmas

The Fandom Show - Stephen Sondheim with Jocelyn Geddie

Vibe Check - Oh Luigi!

Pop Culture Happy Hour - 2024 Pop Culture Favorites

Short Wave - In The Club, We All … Archaea?

The Atlas Obscura Podcast - Palace of Depression

Ologies - Mnemonology (MEMORY) Part 2 with Michael Yassa

Dear Prudence - I Came Out. Now My Mean Sister’s an Ally. Help!

Pop Culture Happy Hour - Queer and What's Making Us Happy

All Songs Considered - Hip-hop in 2024 was on a wild ride

Switched on Pop - The best (and worst) of holiday music in 2024

⭐ Hit Parade - I’d Like to Teach the World to Buy Edition

🎶 MUSIC 🎶

Presenting ZZ Top

Chill Supermix

The Struts

The B-52's [The B-52s] {1979}

Wild Planet [The B-52s] {1980}

Whammy! [The B-52s] {1983}

Bouncing Off the Satellites [The B-52s] {1986}

Cosmic Thing [The B-52s] {1989}

Good Stuff [The B-52s] {1992}

Funplex [The B-52s] {2008}

Presenting Tanya Tucker

Instrumental Pop Covers

'80s Slow Dance

Christmas 25th Anniversary Collection [Mannheim Steamroller] {2009}