#hes had to take the blind fighting feat hes suffering

[sky-kiss]

Jaheira x Named!Tav: Summer

A/n: Yeah, sun's still out. I'm still on my sassy old people bullshit. Tav is a drow warrior named Solaen.

Jaheira x Named!Tav: Summer Lovin' It's Not He's Full of Hate

"Jaheira…" 

It says something that her name should evoke a looming sense of dread. She's 'Jaheira' so rarely—it's Ilharess in mixed company, alurlssrin when the mood is too somber or intimate. She's been Valsharess a handful of times, always breathed into the skin of her throat or the cradle of her thighs. These are positive things. 

Her name? Eh. There's no such assurance. 

Solaen's has turned his nose up so imperiously high it's a wonder he can still see the road. They are deep into a Baldurian summer, and all the sweltering glory it entails, and the drow remains draped in a dark cloak, hood pulled low.  He cuts a theatrical image, she’ll grant him that much. 

"Jaheira," he says again, and she almost laughs, struck by the sudden impression that he is some great sulking feline. "All the cities in the Realms you might have called home…and you picked this hovel." 

 She snorts. "The Gate has its own…esoteric charm, I grant you. What has rubbed you wrong?" 

"The stagnant air? The stink of rotting fish and excrement?" 

"Eh, you get used to these things." 

"A fresh horror to anticipate. How grand." He drags a hand through his hair, now damp. There's a savage part of her that delights in seeing him like this: a touch less ethereal, his elegant features more approachable when he's dripping sweat and clearly morose. Centuries in the Underdark had ill-prepared him for the heat of surface summer, let alone the Gate's humidity. The air felt thick this time of year—and it will get worse long before it gets better. Her warrior grumbles, all the warning she gets before he's stepped into her—this damp, miserable beast. "I should steal you away—back to the Underdark." 

"Hah! Do you think you could manage that?" 

"Perhaps in the evening," he says, a touch archly. "After your damned sun has set."

"Perhaps then," she agrees. Jaheira reaches up, adjusting the cloak's hood. One of the Harper's under her command, another drow, had suggested a more straightforward solution: avoid traversing the city around midday and go out only once the sun began to set. He never listens—too proud, alas. She feathers the tips of her fingers over his eyelids, channeling the barest hint of magic into the touch—enough to cool and soothe. "But you may incur Rion's ire…a dangerous ask—far too much trouble for one old woman." 

"You sell yourself short, Crow." He sighs, shifting her right hand to rest at the curve of his neck and shoulder. The temperature is mild by most standards, but you'd never guess it—his skin is sweat-slick and tacky. Jaheira rolls her eyes, channeling more magic into her touch. The corner of his lips ticks up in a grateful smirk. "Very well—if I cannot spirit you away…I shall suffer your summers. And your city."

"The sacrifices we make for the one we love." It has the cadence of a joke, lilting a little on that last word. But there's a weight to it, an admission. She does see the sacrifice. 

"Happily paid." He brings a hand up, shielding his eyes. "Almost happily."  

Jaheira snickers, nudging his shoulder with her own. "Come. Let us see if we can't find you a shadow to sulk in, old man."

[milkyboybluewriter]

Why Bill Hates Dipper

Ever since the Book of Bill came out, I've been pondering why Bill seems to love tormenting Dipper.

I don’t doubt Bill Cipher could find amusement in anyone and everyone’s suffering but he seems to take a special interest in hurting the youngest Pines.  This even goes back to their first interaction where Bill blows a hole in Dipper’s chest before Dipper had said a single word to him, as opposed to Mabel whom he ignored despite her attempt to tackle him moments beforehand.

In Sock Opera, Bill repeatedly harms Dipper’s body with forks, drawers, stairs, drowning, and who knows what else off-screen.  And in perhaps the darkest moment of any Gravity Falls media, Bill’s note from Journal 3 boasts about his ‘grand finale’ of killing Dipper, making it look like a suicide, and forcing the poor boy to wander the mindscape forever.  

During Weirdmageddon Bill repeatedly ridicules Dipper after Ford’s capture, teasing him with insults, Ford’s body, and burning his precious journals in front of him before ordering his Henchamniacs to eat him. In Mabel’s Bubble he responds to Dipper’s rejection by turning Fake Wendy into maggots and delivers an ominous warning to an obviously disturbed Dipper. 

This trend of tormenting Dipper has only intensified with the Book of Bill and Thisisnotawebsite.com.  Every mention of Dipper in the book is an insult or mockery, including two pages dedicated to embarrassing moments of his young life.  Meanwhile, on the website he tries to trick Dipper into staring at the sun until the boy goes blind.  

So why does Bill seem to have a special interest in making Dipper Pines miserable?

It could be as simple as the bully picking on the victim.  Maybe Bill thinks Dipper takes himself too seriously and wants to knock him down several pegs.  Or perhaps Bill resents Dipper for being the closest to what he considers Lawful Good among his family, or for trying to be a hero while categorising the town’s weirdness in opposition to Bill’s desire to create chaos and misery, or because he’s the primary antagonist and Dipper is the primary protagonist?

But Bill probably doesn’t hold Dipper in high enough regard for that to be his only reasoning.  In fact, Bill appears to have a very low opinion of Dipper, in comparison to certain other members of the Pines family. 

In both Book of Bill and Dipper and Mabel’s Guide to Mystery and Non-Stop Fun, Bill claims to like Mabel, comparing her free-spiritedness with his desire to spread turmoil. To him, fun and chaos are the same thing and Mabel’s all about having fun and doing whatever she wants, whatever other people think of her.

Ford worshipped Bill for a time, and is the one who summoned him and created the portal.  Feats Bill was so pleased by, that he apparently grew some degree of affection for Ford if the Book of Bill is to be believed; telling him about his past, ‘gifting’ him with dead rats and the like.  Even though Bill answered Ford's attempts to escape him with horrific torture, Bill still offered him the position of Henchmaniac when he achieved physical form, implying he was willing to put their past aside, on his terms.

Bill’s interactions with Stan are limited to entering his mind and the final battle.  Perhaps, as a fellow conman and trickster, it could be argued Bill might approve of Stan’s crimes even if he’s not exactly impressed by them.  But Thisisnotawebsite.com makes it clear that any affinity he may or may not have had for Stan is gone.  Now there’s only bitterness and rage at having been bested by someone he deems a joke.

Sounds familiar. 

Because it was Dipper who brought the others into Stan's mind and taught them how to fight back against Bill.  Dipper found Wendy and Soos, rescued Mabel and got the ball rolling on the resistance movement that led to Bill’s defeat.  In Mabeland especially, Dipper proves his tenacity by being the only one capable of resisting what Bill declares is his most diabolical trap. 

And when Dipper proved he had the strength to refuse his greatest temptation, Bill reacted by turning heaven into hell for a few moments.  Again, a member of the Pines family had rejected his promise of granting their greatest desire.  But this time, it wasn’t the genius Ford who’d rejected him and threatened his plans, it was the meek little boy - the lesser twin in Bill’s eye.  

Dipper isn’t wild like Mabel, brilliant like Ford, or cunning like Stan.  He’s just a kid trying his hardest to do what’s right.  A concept Bill no doubt finds hilarious. 

It’s one thing to be bested by a foe you respect or admire, but it’s quite another to be beaten by someone you consider a joke.  

But he was.  Repeatedly.  First by Dipper and finally by Stan.  

And it probably drives him mad. 

[howlingday]

tragic backstory (tm) au)

pyrrrha and jaune have a date. yang is defnatly not jealous and neither is ruby they're just tagging along for moral support…. yeah!

ozpin takes the time to inspect jaune's gear for him. he's seeing a lot of … aura? magic? something like that. it's rearranging the metals and making them both sturdier and acting like a conductor for jaune's aura… this is something he heard about when he was a boy… as in a boy back in his first life. but it was only for great legends.

… just what has he turned jaune into?

(slaying the dragon was a big enough feat that now jaune's weapons and armor are more symbols of that feat than actual items. more like if you somehow crystallized the attention and emotions people felt about jaune's slaying of the dragon. tldr jaune's got a couple of noble phantasms on his hands)

Ponce Age

Pyrrha: (Sighs contently, Holds Jaune's arm)

Jaune: Everything okay, Pyrrha?

Pyrrha: Yes. Everything is just... perfect.

Ruby: (In a bush) Target in sight.

Weiss: They're not targets, Ruby.

Yang: I mean, they're the reason we're out here, so...

Blake: Targets.

Emerald: And why are we following them? Shouldn't we be respecting their privacy?

Mercury: And miss this blackmail? Yeah, right!

Emerald: Wait, are we really here for blackmail?

RWBY: (Holding up their scrolls) Um...

Emerald: I can't believe this...

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

Wei: Do you truly believe this?

Adam: (Bound by chains, Welts all over him) Yes! All of my suffering has been by the hands of a hum- ARGH!

Wei: No! You only suffer because you lack discipline! You lack understanding! Humanity did not give you that scar. It is your naivete and ignorance that causes you pain!

Adam: ...

Wei: Who did this to you? Who is responsible for your incarceration? Who is the one who put you away, only to be freed later by my hand?

Adam: ...Me- ARGH!

Wei: You say the correct answer, but you do not believe it. If you are going to speak, then speak with certainty.

Adam: Jaune Arc...

Wei: Good. Your honesty will reward you this once... with less pain!

Adam: AUGH! ARGH! DAMMIT! WHAT IS THE POINT OF THIS TRAINING?! I WOULD HAVE HAD HIM! I WOULD HAVE KILLED- AAAAAAAAUGH!

Wei: You were fighting an unarmed opponent and you lost. He surprised you not only once. Your rage for humanity blinds and now your hatred of this Jaune Arc is blinding you more so! If you wish to become stronger, you must free yourself of your mask of animosity! See the world for what it truly is!

Wei: See this Jaune Arc for who he truly is.

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

Jaune: Ugh, I still can't believe this...

Pyrrha: What's wrong, Jaune? Are you mad we got free snowcones?

Jaune: It's the being free I'm mad about, it's the reason. "Here you are, your majesty"? (Groans) Is this my life now?

Pyrrha: (Pats his back) You saved a lot of people, Jaune. People who will be forever grateful for what you've done in Mallet.

Jaune: I didn't do anything. I just held a sword... lance... drill thing and lucked a killing blow. After I abandoned you guys.

Pyrrha: You didn't abandon anyone. You were needed elsewhere. You abandoned us as much as you abandonded your sister when she got away from Adam Taurus.

Jaune: I... I guess.

Pyrrha: How is she, by the way?

Jaune: Cin-Cin is... Can you promise not to tell anyone?

Pyrrha: I promise. I could give an Arc's word, but...

Jaune: (Chuckles, Sighs) She's doing better, but I can tell she's traumatized by that night. Mom was telling me about how she's been avoiding kids at school. Kids with Faunus traits.

Pyrrha: Oh my...

Jaune: I know she doesn't mean it, and I can't say I blame her. Whenever I think about the White Fang or what that bastard did to her, I- (Crushes cup) ...Dammit.

Pyrrha: Here, let me clean that. (Wipes hand) And you have every right to be angry. What happened that night would be traumatizing for anyone, especially someone as young as your sister. I don't think there's a magical cure for what your sister is feeling, but what she does need is the same as what you need. (Looks at him) Love and support.

Jaune: (Blushes)

Yang: Damn... Pyrrha's making some moves.

Weiss: Is it any different than what any of the rest of you have done?

Mercury: Heh... Burn.

Emerald: Geez... I knew that guy was bad, but leaving a little girl traumatized? Never thought he'd go that far.

Blake: ...

Ruby: Are you okay, Blake?

Blake: ...I have to make things right. For everyone.

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

Ozpin: No, no, this isn't right.

Ozpin: Perhaps if I applied fire and ice dust..?

Ozpin: ...

Ozpin: That did nothing. Unexpected.

Cinder: And he's been doing this all day?

Goodwitch: All week. Ever since what happened in Mallet, whenever Jaune Arc has nothing to do after classes, and he has no missions, our headmasters steals away his weapon to run secret investigations on his sheath.

Cinder: And what if Jaune needs his weapon?

Goodwitch: Ozpin has the locker moved up here for "upgrades", and in a distress, has it delayed until Ozpin sets the weapon in and shuts the door. He's also been excused from participating in combat classes until the "upgrades" are installed.

Ozpin: Glynda! Ms. Fall! I'm made a stunning breakthrough in my research! It turns out that all of the dust does absolutely nothing, ergo, Archaic, dust itself is entirely resistant to his sheath- I mean, his sheath is resistant to dust!

Cinder: ...And I should care why?

Goodwitch: I've stopped asking those questions a long time ago.

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

Pyrrha: Thank you for the lovely date today, Jaune.

Jaune: Of course, Pyrrha, and, uh, thanks for keeping it on the cheap side and for paying for the snowcones.

Pyrrha: Of course, Jaune. I understand these dates can be very taxing on your wallet.

Jaune: On their own, no. But when you have three in the span of a week.

Pyrrha: (Giggles) I understand. Um, Jaune, do you think we could-

Shishi: Mr. Arc? May I have a word with you?

Jaune: Uh, sure. I'll meet you inside.

Pyrrha: ...Sure. (Opens door) I'll be waiting, Jaune-

Yang: YO! GET IN HERE AND DISH, GIRL!

Pyrrha: (Nervously chuckles) I'm coming! I'll see you soon, Jaune. (Steps inside)

Jaune: You're Shishi, right? From the first year, Team Savage?

Shishi: I'm pleased you remember me, but what I wish to discuss is not a team matter.

Jaune: Oh? Is it about classes? Because first year can be rough-

Shishi: No, no, it's about your social status.

Jaune: Ugh... Look, I know everybody thinks I'm a king, but I'm not. I'm just a regular guy!

Shishi: I know. I am well aware that you are not the king.

Jaune: ...I'm sorry, what?

Shishi: You are not the king.

Jaune: ...Huh. I, uh, wasn't expecting that, but man, does that make my day! Thanks, ma-

Shishi: I must ask that you stop pretending to be.

Jaune: Huh? But... But I'm not pretending. It's everyone else saying-

Shishi: Then make them stop. You're only serving the public by making an ass out of yourself. You're distracting everyone else from the true king.

Jaune: The true king. Look, I don't know-

Shishi: (Steps up to him) Then know this; continue to insult the royal family, and I will see you pay for it with true humiliation.

Jaune: Uh... N-Noted, um, your highness.

Shishi: Oh, I am not the king. (Turns away, Walks away) No, I am but a humble servant of the true crown.

Jaune: ...What the hell is going on?

[animatorweirdo]

Drunken badger

Maglor wakes up with memories of nearly getting abducted by a group of strange men and you rescuing him and caring for him the whole night. He comes down and has a meaningful talk with you. 

(This has been gathering some dust in the storage so I’m gonna finally post it here and sorry because this might be less edited. Some contex, the reader is the same character from my elf therapist fics) 

Warnings: mentions of getting drugged, nearly kidnapped, violence, reader beating the shit out of people, drunkenness, medicine, taking care of Maglor, angst, comfort. 

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

Maglor fluttered his eyes open. He was momentarily blinded by the rays of sunlight that emitted from the window. His sharp elven hearing caught the singing of birds and the ramble of people outside the house. 

He groaned after getting struck by a minor headache. He sat up, sliding the bedsheet from his body and tasting something strange in his mouth. A frown dressed his face as he smacked his lips and tasted the dry substance on his tongue. It tasted like a mix of herbs and…garlic?

He looked around and found himself in an unfamiliar room. He was baffled till memories of last night flooded right back into his mind. 

He was at the tavern, talking with you until he had a drink, and something strange happened. He started feeling dizzy and it felt like something was burning him from the inside, dulling his mind and senses. He then remembers a man. The man feigned sympathy and then took him away. You were talking with someone else, so you did not notice him leave. 

The man led him into a strange room where other men bore looks and expressions that hinted at their sinister intentions. He attempted to struggle, but whatever was affecting his body left him helpless, preventing him from even standing up straight. 

The men laughed at his struggles. One of them seized him by the hair, yanking his head backward and grinning down at him as though he were an exotic animal. 

He couldn't make out what they were saying, but telling from the way they treated him. It wasn’t anything good. He couldn't do anything, so he braced himself to endure what was to come …until a chair flew over him and struck one of the men. 

You came from the shadows and started violently beating the men. Maglor remembers watching you fight them off like an enraged badger. You were merciless. You even made one of the men spill blood out of his mouth after battering his face with punches. Despite being outnumbered and slightly intoxicated, you managed to take them on.

Maglor almost shuddered at the memory. He knew you were a ranger by profession, so you have seen your share of fights, but fighting while intoxicated was still an impressive feat. You could most likely take on one of his brothers if you wanted to. 

He then remembers the men taking off or lying unconscious on the floor after you dealt with them and turned your attention to him. You suffered minor bruises and a bleeding nose, but you still had the energy to gently pick him up and guide him out of the tavern. 

His vision and consciousness were fading by then, so he could only remember a little. He remembers you yelling at the bartender before taking him outside and bringing him to a house, most likely your home. 

You laid him on the bed, taking off his outer garments and boots. He remembers you leaving and him passing out momentarily. He then remembers you waking him up and feeding him some strange green goo. He didn’t even have the chance to say anything. You pushed the spoon into his mouth and spoonfed him till the cup was empty. You then grabbed some wet towels and laid them on his forehead to cool off the fewer that followed. Maglor did not remember what happened after that, so he most likely fell asleep while you cooled off his fewer. 

It was now clear to Maglor that he was drugged by the strange men last night and… you came to his defense. You saved him and took care of him. 

Maglor felt grateful for your selfless action and quilty. You had complained dealing with him, and his family was a nightmare, and now you have risked your well-being to save him from being abducted. 

He released a deep sigh and rose from the bed, collecting his garments and boots before exiting the room.

He walked down the stairs and found you cooking something at the stove. You picked up the pan, letting the drizzling cool off as you walked toward the table. “Ah, you’re awake. How are you feeling?” you asked after noticing him. “A bit better, but this headache is insufferable,” he replied, walking into your kitchen. 

“Well, you got drugged last night, so…alcohol and drugs aren’t a good morning mix,” You explained while adding the food to the plate. 

“What did you feed me last night?” Maglor asked. “A mix of herbs, spinach, cucumber, and garlic. It’s an old family remedy,” you explained. “We use it to treat fever, hangover, and surprisingly it even works curing the after-effects of drugs,” you added some spices and then handed the plate to him. 

“Breakfast? It might help you feel better,” you questioned. 

“No. I possibly couldn't,” Maglor politely rejected. 

“No, I insist. You might end up making an unpleasant journey to the toilet if you don’t eat something to dissipate the effects of the remedy. It works, but it’s not perfect. It might also help you get rid of the garlic breath,” You explained. Maglor silently sighed, taking the plate. He did not want to argue with you after everything you had done for him so far. 

You both then took a seat at the table and dined in silence. Maglor ate in silence but glanced at you from time to time. You thoroughly focused on eating. 

“By the way, I reported the men and had them taken to the town’s local prison so they won’t be trying anything funny for a long time,” you explained. “You can go make charges if you want since you almost did end up as their victim,” you added. “Thank you…but I believe I have troubled you enough,” Maglor said, then looked at your nose, which was red and slightly swollen. 

“Does it hurt?” He asked. “Hmm?” you looked at him questionably. “Your nose. Is it hurting?” he cleared out. “Ah, it’s nothing. I have faced worse injuries, so compared to them. My nose is nothing,” you said. 

Maglor was silent as you continued eating. 

“Thank you…and sorry for causing you trouble,” He started with a downfallen tone. You glanced at him with a frown. “You don’t need to apologize,” you stated. “I mean it. I have caused a lot of bad things in the past. The last thing I want to do is trouble you with my well-being,” he said. “Maglor,” you looked him in the eye. 

“Helping those in need is technically part of my job, and besides—” you exhaled, dropping your shoulders. “Despite you and your family’s past misactions. I don’t believe even you deserve to end up in a situation like that,” you explained. 

“Sure, dealing with you and your family can be exhausting and make me rethink my life choices, but –” you stopped, making Maglor wait. “I wouldn't have left you in trouble either way,” you said with the most sincere look in your eyes. 

Maglor couldn’t utter a word. He was speechless. He knew you as someone he and his brother liked to talk with at a simple tavern since you were good at listening and even sometimes offered solid advice. However, he had no idea how truly selfless you were in person. You and your kind words would have been enough to send him into tears. 

“Thank you. I don’t know if I can thank you enough,” Maglor said. You chuckled. “How about you thank me by eating the meal I wholeheartedly made for you?” You said, making him crack a smile. “You should probably get home soon as possible. Maedhros might be worrying about you since you spent the night,” You explained and got up after eating the last pieces of your food. 

“I need to get to work. You can dump the dishes into the bucket when you’re done. I also retrieved your horse from the tavern and let it stay in my stable. I didn’t take the riding gear off, so you can leave anytime you want,” You explained while dropping your plate and utensil into a wooden bucket. Maglor watched as you grabbed your bow and gear before approaching the door. 

“Ride safely, and don’t get into trouble. I won’t be there to save you for the second time,” you said while popping your head from behind the corner. Maglor smiled. “I won’t. Thank you,” he said. You nodded with a hum. “Alright, bye!” you said and banged the door shut. Maglor watched from the window as you walked your horse out of the stable and rode off. 

He sighed and finished his meal. He left the dishes in the bucket like you asked and dressed back into his outer garments and cloak. He walked outside and fetched his already well-fed horse out of your stable. 

After climbing on his horse, he looked back at your house before softly smiling and riding back to Himring, where Maedhros was likely waiting for him, ready to scold him– just like you said. 

[magnorious]

Review: The Last Airbender Episode 1 - “Aang”

“Long ago, the four nations lived in harm-”

Lol nope. What is it with writers these days fumbling exposition? You had a template, and you botched it.

I nitpicked the heck out of Disney’s Percy Jackson because if you say you’re going to adapt a book, it’s not a very far leap in logic to hope the script might follow said book. But aside from the likes of Twilight, following the source material as it was written never happens.

Netflix had an even easier job. Netflix already had the show they were adapting in a visual medium. Netflix could have gone two ways with this: Shot-for-shot remake just with live action actors, or with an “inspired by” vibe that takes familiar characters, story beats, and themes but tries to make something new with their shameless cash grab.

So, they wanted to take a beloved children’s cartoon and make it gritty and realistic… okay. Sure. No one asked for that and it shouldn’t be embarrassing for any adult to sit down and *gasp* watch a cartoon. For kids.

The original remains amazing, top-tier storytelling, so instead of these reviews stating the obvious “original did X better, why didn’t they do it that way?” we’ll look at the show as if the original didn’t exist… unless it just goes the route of Disney and Amazon and slaps a famous IP on the title screen without making any attempt to stay true to the original just to get butts in seats.

—

We open 100 years ago in Caldera (renamed generic Capital City) with a pretty decent fight scene and special effects. The choreography is solid, the tone is way darker – and so is the lighting, I had to shut the blinds and turn my laptop brightness all the way up – and it establishes pretty quickly that this is Not Your Kids Cartoon Anymore, even if the fight is bloodless.

*Side note: That no one has a Japanese accent in the Fire Nation is… surprising? I know it’s not actual Japan, I know the original didn’t have any accents, but that they’re going for the whole “gritty realism” vibe and didn’t white-wash the cast, not giving them any accent feels like a bit of a missed opportunity. Just the adults, even. Iroh had an accent in the cartoon.

The costumes are also amazing. The original is still a feat of animation but being able to see all the ornate detail in the costumes, particularly in the Fire Nation, is fantastic. The Water Tribe costumes don’t feel quite so lived-in. The colors are still vibrant, there’s no stains, no wear. They don’t reflect the weariness of a remote village still suffering the effects of a hundred-year-long war. Zuko’s scar doesn’t feel quite as gnarly as it could be, more like a very bad bruise and not the remnants of a 3rd degree burn (but at least it’s not on the wrong side). He still has his entire eyebrow and full visibility.

Sozin is amazing, too. Right off the bat he’s shown as clever, cunning, and violent. The original was limited by Nickelodeon’s censorship, so even though it was a kids’ show and they did amazing still scaring kids without showing the violence (like a graphic depiction of Zuko getting his scar), these are firebenders, and fire burns.

… Though if you’re twelve and watching this expecting a fun adventure, watching a man get burned alive in the first 5 minutes wakes you up right quick. I heard a rumor that they wanted to fill the Game of Thrones vacuum and, yeah, they went for it.

Is there a reason they didn’t lift the original opening narration straight from the old script? It was fine! It’s iconic! This feels like a student cracked open a thesaurus for their essay just to sound smarter. Gran Gran gets to deliver it and that is an... interesting choice.

They did salvage some of the original music, and hearing Aang’s theme and the foreboding horns of the Fire Nation theme redone was ear candy, along with the Sun Warrior chant in the end credits. During Aang’s escape from Zuko’s ship, however, the score sounded uncannily like the battle music from The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. 

*Side side note: One nitpick. One little nitpick, I think I’m allowed. Aang cannot fly without his staff. It’s a convenient and logical cap on his abilities and there was no reason to not keep it in.

On the one hand, opening the series with the Air Nomad genocide establishes immediately that the Fire Nation is led by an evil warmonger. On the other hand, slowly weaving in that exposition over the first few episodes, culminating with “The Storm” took what we thought was a lighthearted adventure and made it so much more. That reveal in “The Storm” still makes it one of the best episodes of the show.

Gyatso is perfect. The casting is perfect. “Gritty realism” or not, they did their homework on Gyatso. The only voice actor that left a hole not-quite filled is Iroh’s. He doesn’t quite sound like the wizened old sage, just… a guy. Through no fault of his actor’s, he’s solid, he’s just not quite Iroh.

—

While the worldbuilding is fine and all the extra additions in the beginning are entertaining… the original cartoon was limited to a cable-bound, 30-minute time slot, with commercials. They did their best to pack as much as they could within that time limit for every episode and you weren’t left wanting. It was also animated and every single frame cost money to draw. Creativity thrives in a box and not having endless Netflix money forced them to do the best with what they had.

With all this room and time to kill on Netflix it loses that tightly-woven polish. Scenes linger and add in dialogue that could have been concise and short. This show marinates, where the original was multitasking in every shot – developing the characters, the world, the story, the lore, the relationships.

In the time it took an entire animated episode, this show front-loaded all the exposition and mysteries to be slowly teased and solved through the first half of the season. We’re not left wondering how Aang survived the Air Nomad massacre. We’re not wondering why he wasn’t there, we’re not wondering who he is and slowly learning him with each episode. Curious now if the “The Storm” episode will even exist.

When Aang takes Sokka and Katara to the Southern Air Temple, neither know exactly what happened beyond that it was bad, and Aang has no clue his people have been destroyed, that it’s been 100 years. This time, the trio and the audience already have that information so the oomph of seeing the aftermath, of seeing Gyatso, doesn’t hit as hard as it should.

The themes, the personalities, the motivations of the characters so far still feel like them, even with all the extra fluff. Aang remains a reluctant chosen one, a twelve-year old with too much responsibility on his shoulders – even if he explicitly ran away after eavesdropping on Gyato’s conversation about sending him away and didn’t just happen to be gone while his home was destroyed.

Everyone except Iroh, which is a shame. He reads less as a “concerned surrogate father figure trying to raise an angsty, bratty, entitled teenager” and more “old man who’s too old for his nephew’s BS so he patronizes instead of showing any genuine support.”

About the only major element that didn’t get the love it deserves is the humor. Aang’s abrupt “will you go penguin sledding with me?” right after he wakes up is just one of many missing lines. Game of Thrones had plenty of funny characters, a show can be gritty *and* funny and he’s still twelve, he’s allowed to be a little cringey and ridiculous.

For a shameless cash grab remake that lost the original writers and took forever to finally air, this is a lot better than I expected it to be. The script isn’t perfect and there’s some lines that aren’t well-executed, but no actor phoned in their performance and visually it looks amazing. The writers did their homework and, so far, even if they refuse to make it a kids’ show, they’re still making Avatar: The Last Airbender.

[darkpoisonouslove]

Hello, how are you doing? I was wondering how do you think Griffin would've reacted to Valtor being badly injured during the Coven days? And what about after she left? I think her feeling would somehow get in the way, he was the man she loved and she simply cannot be blind to his suffering.

Hi! I'm not doing as badly as I feel I am and simultaneously everything sucks so idk how to answer that question. I'm trying not to stress (I had an anxiety attack in the middle of the sidewalk the other day so that wasn't fun) and also completely failing to catch enough shuteye in order for my brain to be able to do something (and to prevent my eyes from dying). Everything is going slow, which is frustrating, but hey, at least it's going... I guess.

Anyway, I'm going to assume that you're the same person from that other ask I got a few days before this because the text is almost word for word. I suppose you can infer from the paragraph above why I didn't get to your questions earlier. I've answered the first half of this ask before here.

As for Griffin's feelings on Valtor getting injured after she's with the Company - it's complicated. If she's the one fighting him, I can kind of see her getting vindictive and wanting to hurt him because she knows that he wants to hurt her as well (not necessarily hurt her physically, but he definitely wants to punish her for betraying him). She kind of blames him for making her want to leave him so she has no problem fighting him tooth and nail even if it means both of them getting injured. But she also knows that no matter how much they hurt each other, she could not bring herself to kill him even if she had the means to do it.

Watching the other Company members fight him is... surreal as much as it is hard. She knows that they have to use every opening they have to hit him and hit him hard because he won't hesitate to do the same. She knows she has to let them do whatever it takes to stop him, because she cannot bring herself to be as decisive. She knows it might mean standing there and watching as they kill him and she's torn. On the one hand, she's aware they will have to kill him to stop him for good but on the other hand, she's relieved every time he proves that that is a practically impossible feat. To top it all off, she has to restrain herself from blasting the other Company members when they fight him. She was watching his back for a long time and the old instincts are still there making it so confusing sometimes, making her ask herself why she's fighting on the side of the Company. Of course, he doesn't help when he's making compelling points about why she shouldn't have left him (such as her having to play nice with politicians that hate her guts when she could have just intimidated them into defeat before while she was still with Valtor).

And then there's the matter of the Ancestral Witches, of course. While I don't believe Valtor would have told her what the deal with them is, Griffin is smart enough to have figured out that he would absolutely not play second fiddle if they didn't have some kind of serious hold on him that he couldn't overcome. Given everything else she knows about them (aka that they are willing to possess their own descendants even if that ends up killing the person once they leave the body), she's reasonably concerned about what will happen to Valtor if the Company starts gaining the upper hand and if they defeat him. She knows that killing him would be a more merciful fate than ending up imprisoning him together with the Ancestral Witches but he makes killing him too hard. In a way she knows that he's sealing his fate because he'll either win the war for the Ancestral Witches and probably be disposed of after he's served his purpose or he'll lose and end up tortured by them for all of eternity when he's making his imprisonment the more easily achievable option. To say that she's worried doesn't quite cover it.

Honestly, I love the idea that Griffin proposed the imprisonment in Omega just to keep Valtor away from the Ancestral Witches. She had to convince Marion and Oritel that trapping him alongside the three witches would increase the chances of them all breaking containment so it's worth it to go out of their way and search for the means to ensure he's kept separated from the Ancestral Witches. Can you imagine his reaction if he learns that she was the architect of his imprisonment in Omega? Would he believe her reasoning and would it matter at all even if he did? Fuck, I don't have time for another idea right now!

[cosmicjoke]

Oof, you really are determined to break my heart even more, aren't you, lol.

I really appreciate these obviously thoroughly researched posts from you though, because it gives us an even greater appreciation for what Levi's endured and gone through, and puts his heroism into greater context.

I'm currently in the middle of writing a story about Levi's life post-war, and I've taken a lot of the information you've provided and incorporated it into my story.

It's also really interesting that you point out the blood in Levi's ears. I never noticed that before either, so focused on the horrific damage to his poor face, but I did actually write into my story that Levi is suffering from partial deafness, because of his close proximity to the blast. And of course, total blindness in his right eye. Gah, it kills me to think about these things.

And man oh man, yeah, you're right about the way Levi is facing when the blast blows him back, versus his position when Hange finds him. He must have crawled up onto the bank, somehow, which in itself would have been a massive feat of will. I always like to point out also how I think Levi saved his own life by reacting as quickly as he did to Zeke igniting the thunderspear, because we see Levi manage to tuck himself behind his sword right as the blast goes off. If he hadn't managed to do that, he could very well have simply died immediately.

And yeah, it's hard to imagine Levi actually being conscious when Hange finds him. Most likely he was completely out, just his body shutting down as a means to shield him from the trauma it had taken. At least, I HOPE he was unconscious. In the anime, his eyes are clearly open, though it's harder to tell in the manga panels if they are or not.

And yeah, I cringed when Levi takes the impact for Jean in the anime. It was such a selfless thing to do, but so in line with who Levi is and always has been. And also the impact of being caught by Connie. Really, just the impact too of using the ODM gear like he was, the way it would pull and push on his body, the force of it on his body, must have been unreal in terms of how much it hurt, and how much it hurt later on especially. Like you said, Levi is an incredibly strong person. He wasn't going to sit by and let others fight, even if he had every right and reason to.

Zeke can go suck a big one, damned bastard.

Would you say that Levi’s pain tolerance is quite high?

Oh yeah, definitely. I mean, all one has to do is look at him during the Battle of Heaven and Earth to know that Levi can deal with a LOT of pain. He was bleeding internally, his entire face had been literally stitched back together just a few hours before, his right eye destroyed, his fingers had been blown off. He had to have been suffering extraordinarily during that final battle, but he pushed through it and was just as effective, and even more effective, than almost everyone else in battle. We see him push through pain also during the female titan arc, when he twists his ankle, but still manages to rescue Mikasa and Eren. If anyone has ever sprained their ankle, they'll know it can often be more painful and harder to heal than a break, even. So yeah, I would say Levi has an extremely high pain tolerance.

[in-silks-and-flesh-and-leather]

The Bear and the Maiden Fair - part 7

Summary: To reestablish himself in society and align with Count Pierre, your father gives your hand in marriage to Jacques Le Gris, his favorite squire. You, knowing his reputation as a newly established rich squire with little breeding and womanizing ways, are vehemently opposed to the idea.

Oh, I'm a maid, and I'm pure and fair!

I'll never dance with a hairy bear!

A bear! A bear!

I'll never dance with a hairy bear!

The bear, the bear!

Lifted her high into the air!

The bear! The bear!

~Series Masterpost~

Chapter summary: some last minute twists and turns as Jacques gets ready to set off for Cherbourg

CW: short physical altercation, mature towards the end

Word count: ~4.5k

*

On the way back from Lisieux, Jacques thought it was only fair to prepare his one time friend for the potentially turbulent events once they returned to Exmes.

“Are you sure this is what you want to do? From watching you, I didn’t get the impression you wanted this at all.” – Jean frowned at Jacques’ word, adjusting in his saddle to ease some pain in his back. He had often been injured and he suffered an illness not too long ago that left him achy when he was active for too long.

“It’s not me who wants it.” – Jacques’ voice was unusually flat and uncertain. He had not confided about the state of his marriage to almost anyone, let alone someone who would likely gladly use the information against him, but Jean was here and the matter could not be postponed.

“Really? I didn’t get that impression either…” – Jean thought out loud. – “But you did always tell me that I was the only man who was—”

“…blind despite two healthy eyes.” – they finished the sentence in unison and smiled fondly over the many times Jacques had benevolently upbraided his friend.  – “Things have taken a… surprising… and pleasant turn recently.” – Jacques confessed and Jean almost balked at his apparent shyness. Jacques Le Gris, whose conquests were stuff of legend, retold like Herculean feats, now quite literally blushed to speak of, of all people, his own wife. – “But you know the danger we are heading into. I believe she will find my arrangement preferable to a period of mourning of two years or more before she can remarry.”

“So you’ve decided very sternly to die then? And you can’t be talked out it? You might have told me this before I agreed to follow you to Cherbourg.” – Jean teased.

“It is a strong possibility, that is all. I don’t expect you or your men to fight battles once you deem them lost. My honor as the warden of that castle, however, compels me to stay when otherwise I would not.”

*

On the road to Exmes, Jacques and Jean’s company came across the archbishop’s retinue. By now all parties were aware of what was unfolding, so the two groups merged in a solemn mood, making their way to Jacques’ castle.

“How is Grégoire?” – Jacques asked in his cheeky tone, dispelling the thick silence that hung around the rhythmic crunching of wheels and clacking of horses’ hoofs.

“The Pope, my lord…” – the archbishop emphasized, admonishing. – “is well, by the grace of God. I would expect a cleric to speak of him with more reverence.”

“I might expect that too.” – Jacques shrugged and Jean bit his lips to keep a chuckle from escaping. – “But my lack of reverence is likely why the church life and I are fundamentally incompatible.”

“That and many other reasons.” – Jean chimed in and Jacques’ chest bubbled with a warm memories of the old, light-hearted friendship they once had.

“Given your request to annul your marriage on the grounds of it being unconsummated, you might reconsider that stance. You may be a man of the church after all.” – the archbishop revealed he was not above petty jibes and Jean’s amusement only grew, evidenced by his distinct muffled laughter in the background.

Jacques took a steadying breath. He was well practiced in the art of taking insults from pompous fools. – “The Pope still hasn’t departed for Rome?” -  he changed the subject with ease. – “The Italians are keeping with hands full with their wicked little insurrections, aren’t they?”

“True.” – the archbishop’s response was curt and haughty. The Avignon papacy was quickly coming to an end and there was irreconcilable conflict between the French and Italian legates and governors. – “That is why he couldn’t pay your rather vulgar matter the full scope of his attention. But I’m sure you understand. From what I hear, you have your hands full with your own insurrections up north.”

It was Jacques’ turn to bite his tongue and try to seem nonplussed. The church may be busy with its own wars, but the English were a threat to all of France, not just him. – “The exorbitant fees for these vulgar matters sweeten the pot regardless of how busy the church is with its politics, it seems. After all, you did come on very short notice.”

“You can be a very uncouth man when you endeavor to do so, lord Le Gris.” – the archbishop stuck up his nosy like a petulant duchess. – “I am here because you situation is urgent and dire.”

“And I am eternally grateful, archbishop.” – Jacques gave an exaggerated bow and rode ahead, tiring of the conversation.

*

Instead of welcoming your husbands in the courtyard, Jean sent word ahead to Marguerite to wait in their chamber and Jacques asked that you meet him in the solar. You two parted with concerned looks and you dashed over to wait for the men.

The first to enter was the archbishop, in gilded, glittering robes, flanked by another clergyman. Behind him followed Jacques and Jean, and Louvel came last, closing the door behind them. The small room was fuller than usual and a grave tension filled the air.

The archbishop wasted no breath in reassuring you. He stuck out a soft hand and offered a ring to be kissed. You went down on one knee and did as he expected. Before you could get up, he stated his business. - “Baroness, by  the powers vested in me by His Holiness, the Pope, I have come to serve upon you the papers of annulment, formally ending your marriage to squire Jacques Le Gris.”

Your mouth, gaping indecently, tripped him up for a moment, but he recollected and shifted his weight on one foot, lips pursed impatiently, like you were an uncooperative child. – “Since the marriage has not been consummated, my lady, under Christian law, it does not exist.”

Though successfully drawn closed, your mouth refused to speak until you swallowed, hard and uncomfortable. - “My marriage exists, Your Excellency.” – you countered and shot a frantic look over to Jacques, thinking someone must have lied – or, in reality, told the truth – about you to the authorities. He must have been holding back an outburst out of decency or wariness in front of Carrouges.

“The church has this on good authority. I would not have traveled all the way from Avignon under different circumstances.”

“Forgive me, but I don’t know what you mean.” – his tone was far too self-important for your liking. Your eyes narrowed at him and tried to keep your face stern.

The archbishop sighed. - “I have been assured by your husband himself that his wife remains a virgo intacta, my lady. But I am perfectly happy to verify—“

“I’m sure you are.” – you raised an unimpressed eyebrow as you cocked your head him.

The man blustered and Jean snorted, Jacques’s eyebrows shot up in alarm. – “What I mean, naturally, is, I can have it arranged—“

“You will arrange nothing. No annulment is happening here today.” – you crossed your arms over your chest. So this ridiculous, irrational mess was Jacques’ doing. Very well. If you had experience getting furious at someone, it was at him.

The archbishop noticed your sudden confidence too. – “No?”

“No, I am afraid you have been ill informed.”

“My lord?”  - he looked over his shoulder, exasperated, like telling a kennelmaster to kick a whining cur and shut him up.

You looked over his shoulder too, gaze scorching.  Jacques looked back and you could swear he was pleading with his eyes to just make this easy. – “Perhaps there’s been a misunderstanding.” – you placated, voice taking on a lightness you resolutely did not feel. – “Can I talk to you in private?”

Your dulcet tone was dripping with danger and Jacques deflated as he opened the door for you, looking down as you walked past him.

The small effort of feigning calmness was for naught, since everyone could plainly hear you screaming as soon as the door was shut behind you and you were safely in your bed chamber.

“How dare you do this to me?” – you cracked the question like a whip and Jacques recoiled, mainly from the sharp tone. – “You want to just send me away? Like I’m nothing to you, like I’m some whore at Pierre’s bacchanals?”

“We’re asking me what I want?” – he yelled back with his hands on his chest in question, eyes wide and angry. When you just glared back, he went on. – “Apologies, it’s just so rare that anyone asks me anything at all anymore, I find myself unused to the very idea! To answer you, my Aphrodite, I don’t want that at all! I’m only giving you the option that you so vehemently insisted that you wanted!”

He was so busy gesticulating and finally airing out some of his frustrations, neck laced with furious veins and arms flailing wildly around, that he noticed too late you slipped off a heavy ring. He only registered it when your arm sliced through the air and a moment later, the stone laid in ornate gold pinged off his eyebrow, splitting the skin open. He let out a pained growl and flew at you as you made for one of the glasses resting by a water jug. Jacques snatched you away and the items on the table went clattering down as you pulled on the tablecloth.

He pinned you on the bed, straddling over your hips and sitting down with his considerable weight, pushed your air out in a graceless grunt. He snatched the tablecloth out of your hands so forcefully you wondered for a moment if he ripped out a nail with it. You didn’t get a chance to check as he quickly caught your wrists and pinned those down too.

“And another thing! I am growing less amused by this target practice of yours by the day!” – he raised his voice the closer he got to your face and you shut your eyes, cringing away. You regretted these outbursts as soon as they happened as well, but there was no stopping them when he was just so infuriating. You struggled against his weight and grip, but you knew it was useless. However, he chose to chuckle at your futile efforts, only causing you to redouble them. You did not get yourself so much as an inch loose from him, yet your throat ached from the growls of effort, sweat breaking out, and you finally fell into a limp heap, breathing fast and hard. Jacques waited patiently until you wore yourself out, but he was not fooled. He kept his grip as tight as ever as he asked calmly. – “Am I to understand that you want to stay with me and be my wife? For real this time?”

“Yes, obviously!” – you shot up and he congratulated himself mentally for not letting you go earlier. He knew the kind of hellion he married.

Jacques took his time, watching through the mess of curls that framed his face and obstructed his view, as you panted under him and stared daggers, trying to kill, or at least seriously injure, him for trying to leave you. A dangerous heat seeped into his core, radiating out and surging to cloud his better judgment. He licked his lips and they pulled into a smile, so big and bright it nearly pushed his eyes shut. – “Well, that’s easily arranged. All you had to do was ask.”

He released you and retreated quickly, correctly anticipating you would attack him with your petal fists pulled into buds. - “Don’t think I’ll soon forget this infamy.”

“Oh, I know how long your memory is, my fire-breathing viper.”  - Jacques smirked and experimentally lowered his face towards yours. You were suspiciously still and seemed to be calculating something. When he neared even further, he got his face grabbed, crumpled and pushed aside, snorting a laugh into your palm. He sat back and let you sit up, finally getting a proper lungful of air. Then, Jacques got his face grabbed again, this time for you to peck a rough – warning – kiss into his lips that you pursed with you squeezing fingers.

When you emerged from the bed chamber, markedly worse for wear, it was obvious by everyone’s averted eyes that your clash and reconciliation was heard by all.

No one spoke for a moment, unsure about what just happened and what it was supposed to mean, so you raised your chin imperiously and looked at the archbishop. - “The matter is settled, Your Excellency.” – you waited and when he made no move to leave, you grew impatient, looking at all the men standing there like witless statues. – “Leave us.” – your tone bordered on aggressive and Jacques wrapped an arm around your waist; his lips pulled in an awkward line, shooting apologies at his guests with his eyes.

“My lady. I have traveled all the way from Avignon—”

“And I thank you for your pains, truly. If you are so insistent on dissolving marriages, maybe you should look around the castle and the surrounding grounds, you may be surprised what you find.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” – Carrouges frowned, arm twitching reflexively towards his sword.

Jacques flexed his arm around you; not all men were as adept as taking tongue lashings as he was and few were willing to forgive them. – “I only mean I’m sure there are things to keep you occupied around Alençon and Exmes; idle hands are the Devil’s workshop, after all.”

Louvel’s sandy moustache danced from the smiles he was trying to hide – he had a sizeable bet going with his de facto master that you would not accept an annulment and he could already feel his purse getting heavier - and he shuffled his feet loudly on the floor to draw everyone’s attention as he opened the door and held it for the group to file out.

Jean was confused and, frankly, a little disappointed that yet another thing that should have been a loss to his slippery friend turned into an unexpected victory.

You were left alone for mere moments before Louvel cracked the door open, apology already written on his face. – “I’m sorry to disturb, my lord and lady, but the captains and bannerets are getting restless, they need to see you.”

“I know; thank you, Louvel.” – Jacques nodded and waited until he heard his retreating footsteps grow quieter outside the door.

“What possessed you to do this?” – you sighed, asking the most important question first since you had very limited time with him.

Instead of summarizing nearly a year of marriage where he suffered incessant insults and rumors, Jacques raised an eyebrow and his face showed all the disdain and exhaustion that had built in him. There was nothing to say in return that would justify you except that somehow, at times behind your own back and other times right in front of your face, you heart had changed. – “Aside from the obvious…” – he rolled his eyes and there was something humorous in his tone despite everything. – “I wanted to let you go free rather than make you a widow who had to waste years mourning a husband she never had. Besides, I sent for that pompous prick weeks ago, soon after the Auberts arrived and everything looked so grim. I can admit that things have changed since then.”

There were many things that needed to be said, but Jacques was already turning away from you and angling towards the door. So you did the only thing you could and said what you needed to with a kiss. No fighting, no glaring, no provocation. Just a simple, earnest kiss you wanted to give freely. Jacques softened immediately, melding into you like a cat leaning into a loving touch, and pulled you close. He reluctantly kept it from deepening too much, somehow slipping away every time you thought you had him. Finally, he pulled away and kissed your forehead, sighing into your hair and taking a step back.

He walked to the door, you trailing behind with both your hands clasped around his. Jacques left kisses on your lips, nose, cheeks all the while he was snaking away and wriggling out of the door, leaving you with one last breathtaking, resolute seal on the lips and closing the door between you. As soon as the door was shut, the swell of excitement burst and you crashed back down to earth, heart slowly sinking to your feet without him there.

Jacques felt the same awful sinking, so doubled back and swung the door open, nearly taking your nose off with it and stole another lightning-fast kiss before running down the corridor, away from temptation, cape flying behind him like a black banner.

*

Jacques had many people to talk to and even more men to tend to, make sure they were clothed, armed, fed, their horses too – and time was working against him. So much so that their departure was brought up a day, meaning they were riding out to Alençon in the morning. Carrouges rightly pointed out it made little sense to wait for the larger group to arrive to Exmes; it was preferable to save time and meet on Pierre’s land – vast and rich and that much closer to their ultimate destination.

When he returned for dinner with Jean in tow, you were already waiting with Marguerite. She was more composed and poised than you; the day had taken a toll. Not only the incident with the archbishop, but for most of the day, you had been embroidering and realized how much you had fallen out of that habit. Without your father’s watchful eye and without the burden of an overbearing husband that demanded a typical wife, you had been free to pursue other interests. You lacked the same calluses on your fingers that allowed your friend to work for hours and the concentration to go with it. Eyes hazy and fingers sore, you felt the same stiffness Jacques felt after marching back and forth for hours, listening to squabbles and complaints and cowardly proclamations from the gathered troops.

Dinner was a solemn, mostly quiet affair, with brief spurts of conversation during which it was decided Marguerite would stay with you as long as she wanted or until Jean’s mother’s summoned her. Marguerite knew the latter would come first and all too soon; that old sow was only happy when she was ruining her good mood, but any day spent away from her was a day she would cherish. Jacques had no particular instructions for you, trusting you to take good care of the estate until his return.

Afterwards, the men retired to the solar to keep discussing the damn campaign and you paced around restlessly while Marguerite sat and read by the fire.

“I know how these men-at-arms are before a campaign; they’ll be terribly upset if you interrupt them.” – she warned, feeling you teetering on the edge of storming right in.

“If Jacques hasn’t been upset at some of the things I’ve done thus far…”

“He may be charitable, but Jean… certainly won’t be.”

“Well, that is his concern.” – you muttered, mind made up all the more firmly.

“It’s also mine, I’m the one who’ll be dealing with him.” – Marguerite reminded.

You stopped, not wanting to be a reason for them to argue. Besides, you wanted Jean happy enough to consider future visits as well, and Jacques’ famed charm didn’t seem to be working its usual magic this time.

“Oh, go on.” – she shrugged, knowing you were as miserable as she was, only in a different way. – “Just make sure to make it count.”

You could have sworn she winked at you before returning to her book and you dashed out the door and up the stairs.

*

Jean and Jacques were speaking in low, rumbling tones, their weariness evident in their posture and the long faces they wore. Some of the candles illuminating the room had gone out, but they still hunched over Jacques’ desk; two glasses of wine they didn’t bother refilling resting nearby, maps spread over every flat surface and a few books lay open.

Jacques followed you with his eyes as you entered, whispering a short apology for the interruption, and walked over to his chair. Jean leaned back in his, casting a questioning look your way. He could count on one hand the times Marguerite had been in his solar and he needed no fingers at all to count how many times she had seen it fit to interrupt him when he had business with someone.

“I’ve been waiting all day to talk to you.” – you announced, looking down on Jacques who was still busy inspecting some papers in front of him. Jean knew that look on your face; many women bore it around Le Gris when they had a mind to have their brains talked out by Jacques. But being a military man through and through, not to mention sticking his neck out for a bastard that at times seemed to exist solely to torment him, Carrouges was in no mood to delay any vital preparations just because some lady finally decided to uncross her…lips for Jacques.

“We have urgent business and not a lot of time, lady.” – Jean pointed out and you met his eyes. They were so cold. Some of the coldest you’d seen. Instead of remarking on that, your fingers curled around the fabric on Jacques’ shoulder, grateful that this man, and not any other, was your husband.

“I have equally urgent business and a similar time constraint. Squire.” – the word was out, coated in disdain, and you quickly bowed your head to hide your glare, but the damage was done.

Jean bristled and shot up out of his chair. You would remember the day you spoke to him that way, if only you were on his land or wed to him. He looked at Jacques and made no attempt to hide his disapproval of you and your gall. – “Excellent moment you found to finally start… talking.”

Jacques lifted his hands in supplication, begging the both of you to stop fighting over him like dogs over a bone. – “Jean, why don’t you give us just a few moments?”

Rage spiked in Carrouges, who saw himself as doing an unworthy friend an enormous favor. And now his conceited wife was pushing him around and wasting precious time. – “I know what ‘a few moments’ means with you! I’m retiring for the night. Just be ready to ride to Alençon in the morning.” – he warned and left without wishing you a good night, only giving an almost imperceptible nod.

Jacques deflated, head falling against the back of his chair with an irritated sigh.

You twirled and gathered your skirt, falling into his lap and making him lurch forward. Wasting no time, you wrapped your arms tightly around his neck and kissed him so hard your teeth hurt.

He didn’t make any effort to resist, letting his hands wander over your hips, up your waist and back and into your hair, taking out pins and ribbons, unbraiding with the practiced ease of a masterful lover and letting your hair fall loose.

He pushed it over your shoulder, the tickle followed by his warm hand and wet lips made a shudder ripple through you, straight down to your core and all the way to your toes. His beard burned slightly across the sensitive, now inflamed skin, but he soothed it with his lips and tongue, making you dizzy.

Jacques rested his cheek against your chest, rising and falling like you’d run all the way from Paris. He felt your heart thumping under his ear and his chest swelled with the knowledge he, he made you feel this way.

You hadn’t realized he’d unlooped the leather holding the sides of your dress together and gasped when you realized his hand, large and warm, rested on the cotton shift you were wearing underneath. He ran a finger over the soft swell of flesh, circling his thumb until he felt the peak pull together and stiffen under it, rubbing the fabric into it, the sensation making you ball your fists together and pull on his hair in the process. You watched him silently and he seemed like a musician who knew exactly what he was doing, what string to pluck to draw out sweet notes from you. It hardly mattered what he did next; you trusted you were in good hands and you just wanted him to keep going.

He cupped and squeezed, rounding the soft flesh under his lips and left a trail of messy, wet kisses over the breast, along your chest, up to your throat. His eyes closed when you squirmed deliciously in his lap, rubbing your thighs together and thrumming for him.

His breath was hot and sent pleasant waves through you when he murmured into your ear. – “Do you remember what I once told you?” – he played with the shell of your ear and pecked his way along your jaw until he pulled back far enough to peer into your eyes.

“You talk a lot. I can’t be sure what you’re referring to.” – you breathed and sank into his lips again. His fingers teased, crawling over your thigh as he bunched your skirt up, gathering the layers into his hand and hiking it up to your hips. His kiss curved into a smile and you smiled too, welcoming the brush of his hand up your leg and pulling down a stocking.

“Let me remind you then.” – he rasped and dug his nails into your skin, scratching lightly as he left your skin exposed and stocking bunched around the ankle. – “A warm night in late spring. You had tried to run off. Then you tickled me with a little toothpick knife and vowed this” – he ran his hand up between your legs and squeezed the soft flesh of your inner thigh hard, making you wince and clap your legs together; the feeling unpleasant and pleasant at once – “would never happen.”

He nuzzled at your face and left a few kisses on your cheek, so you relaxed, concluding he wanted to relish his little victory over your pride for a bit. It was childish in a way, but you had your childish moments too, so you decided to let it go.

“And I vowed something to you too.” – he reminded in a shrewd, self-satisfied tone. Eyebrows knitted together, you tried to remember as your stomach filled with a chilly dread you couldn’t quite explain. You might have remembered, but his hands, his lips were still everywhere, making it almost impossible to think.

“I told you you would not have the pleasure of my touch until you begged for it.” – he said and it all stopped. No more hands, no more scratchy beard burning along your skin and soothing kisses in its wake. Jacques pulled back and rested against his chair, like a king on a throne, watching you all feverish and half-mad, his face smug and aglow in triumph.

*  

[thecreaturecodex]

Udug

“Utukku” © TSR Inc, by Roger Raupp.

[The last monster I’m covering from the original Creature Catalogue, this is written by Roger Moore, not Ed Greenwood. Moore’s preferred design space was to make statistics for monsters from myth and folklore, which I respect. The udug/utukku is a Mesopotamian demon of darkness (different names for different cultures). I went with udug as a name because Pathfinder already has an utukku. Images of the udug/utukku haven’t survived into the modern day, if they ever existed, but I feel like this design captures the Sumerian feel better than the Paizo version. A scaled lion-man feels more like a genuine folkloric creature than Wilbur Whateley crossed with a sea anemone.

The original Dragon Magazine utukku was a straightforward fiend, native to Tartarus. But they hunted other fiends and had a given lifespan, which lead me to make them a monstrous humanoid instead. If you want to make them a full on outsider, mechanically the main difference would be more class skills. The original stat block was mostly a pile of spell-like abilities and immunities and not much else, as is common for fiends of this era. I made its fear SLA a signature ability, and gave it something to do with its quills. Its umbral valor ability is inspired by the Sumerian version being a demon of darkness specifically.

Also, is it just me, or does this art give of Grinch vibes? I think it’s the crossed arms and the pot belly. He could be the lovechild of the Grinch and Tony the Tiger]

Udug CR 12 CE Monstrous Humanoid This creature resembles a brick-red, scaled humanoid with the head of a lion and tusks jutting from its lower jaw. Its mane is a mass of striped, porcupine-like quills, and its face bears a cruel expression.

The udugs are often mistaken for fiends, but they are creatures of flesh and blood as much as they are darkness and pain. They are descended from immigrants from the Material Plane, but have made the Abyss their home. There, udugs carve out territories from which to lash out at fiends and mortals alike. Most udugs go out of their way to kill and eat demons, qlippoths and other fiends weaker than they, believing that doing so will secure them a more powerful form when their own souls become demons in death.

The roar of an udug is infused with supernatural fear. An udug will usually start combat with a roar in order to force enemies to flee, and then attack whoever is left on the battlefield. Udugs prefer to fight from darkness, and often swathe their forms in deeper darkness spells. In melee they are straightforward, but soften up enemies beforehand with a few lightning bolts or by making them fight each other. Udugs flee from superior forces, but are cocky and overconfident when fighting humanoid enemies.

An udug can live for thousands of years, inflicting suffering all through that time. They prefer to lair in the Abyss, but travel occasionally to the Material Plane in search of riches. Udugs covet magic weapons, but hardly ever use them, preferring instead to fight with teeth and claws. Udugs dislike being in positions of either leadership or authority, and do not get along well with others of their own kind. Presumably, as living things, they must mate and reproduce in some fashion, but the specifics are yet unknown.

Udug  CR 12 XP 19,200 CE Large monstrous humanoid (extraplanar) Init +9; Senses darkvision 60 ft., detect magic, see in darkness, see invisibility Aura emotion (30 ft., Will DC 22) Defense AC 26, touch 15, flat-footed 20 (-1 size, +5 Dex, +1 dodge, +11 natural) hp 157 (15d10+75) Fort +12, Ref +14, Will +12 DR 10/magic and silver; Immune poison; Resist electricity 10, fire 10; SR 23 Defensive Abilities quill defense; Weakness light sensitivity Offense Speed 40 ft. Melee 2 claws +20 (3d4+6), bite +20 (1d8+6) Space 10 ft.; Reach 10 ft. Special Attacks quintessence strikes, rend (2 claws, 3d4+9), roar, umbral valor Spell-like Abilities CL 12th, concentration +17 (+21 casting defensively) Constant—detect magic, see invisibility At will—comprehend languages, contagion (DC 19), detect evil, detect good 3/day—deeper darkness, greater teleport (self plus 50 lbs. only), empowered lightning bolt (DC 18) 1/day—control weather, plane shift (DC 22), song of discord (DC 21) Statistics Str 22, Dex 21, Con 21, Int 16, Wis 17, Cha 20 Base Atk +15; CMB +22; CMD 38 Feats Blind-fight, Combat Casting, Dodge, Empower SLA (lightning bolt), Great Fortitude, Improved Initiative, Power Attack Skills Acrobatics +16 (+20 jumping), Bluff +16, Climb +19, Intimidate +18, Knowledge (arcana, planes) +14, Perception +16, Sense Motive +13, Spellcraft +14, Stealth +14 Languages Abyssal, Celestial, Infernal, Sphinx, telepathy 100 ft. SQ change shape (humanoid, alter self) Ecology Environment warm land (Abyss) Organization solitary Treasure double standard Special Abilities Quill Defense (Ex) A creature that strikes an udug with a melee weapon, natural weapon, unarmed strike or touch attack takes 1d4+3 points of piercing damage. It must also succeed a DC 22 Reflex save or a quill becomes lodged in its flesh. A creature with quills embedded in it is sickened with pain for as long as any quills remain. A quill can be removed with a successful DC 20 Heal check made as a full round action. An additional quill is removed for every 5 points by which the DC is exceeded. On a failed check, the quill is still removed, but it deals 1d4+3 points of damage on its way out. The save DC is Dexterity based. Quintessence Strikes (Su) An udug’s natural weapons ignore the damage reduction of all outsiders, except for DR/epic. Roar (Su) Three times per day as a standard action, an udug can roar, causing all creatures in a 60 foot radius to be panicked for 1 minute and deafened for 24 hours. On a successful DC 22 Will save, a creature is shaken for 1 round and immune to the roar of that udug for the next 24 hours. An udug is immune to the roar of other udugs. The save DC is Charisma based. Umbral Valor (Su) In darkness or supernatural darkness, an udug gains the benefits of a heroism spell.

[avi17]

MK X Pacific Rim AU Concept

You ever get an AU idea in your head and go absolutely feral for a bit putting it all on paper?  Me neither, until now!  This isn’t so much a fic as just a detailed wiki-style outline, but hopefully it will still be fun to read!  I had a ton of fun figuring out how to translate all these concepts and backstories into the PR world. If anyone feels like doing anything with these ideas they’re absolutely welcome, just please credit me and link back to this post if you do!  I don’t think I’ll ever be able to write this into some massive longfic, but I definitely hope to do some shorts in this ‘verse. I brainstormed this with a bunch of people, and got some fun ideas from @sxvethelastdance​, @bastardsunlight​, and @fallen-angel-lucifer- thank you guys so much for humoring all this!​

Pan Pacific Defense Corps Marshal Raiden was a legendary Mark 1 pilot dating back to when the program was first launched.  Based out of the Shatterdome in Tokyo, he and his brother Fujin, in their Jaeger Thunderbolt Gale, were the first line of defense from Kaiju attacks headed westward from the breach for five grueling years. However, they met their match in Motaro, the first Category 3 Kaiju to make landfall on Hokkaido, and when Fujin was torn from their Jaeger and killed, Raiden was forced to take down the creature solo- a feat replicated only twice since. The physical and emotional toll of that day led to his retirement from active combat, but he remained in the PPDC as a commander, as well as a mentor of other pilots.  When the Jaeger program was decommissioned, he was the last one to retain his faith in it, and took up leadership over the few remaining Jaegers at the Shatterdome in Hong Kong for one final stand against the Kaiju. Current Pilots:

Liu Kang and Kung Lao Jaeger: White Lotus Original base: Hong Kong

The home base heroes of the Hong Kong Shatterdome, pilots Liu Kang and Kung Lao are the top graduates and darlings of the Wu Shi Jaeger Academy.  Raised together in a martial arts sect before the first breach and drift compatible since their ranger training began, they are nearly inseparable- though Kung Lao has never quite forgotten how Liu Kang's scores just barely edged out his own in their individual skill assessments, and he strives constantly to prove himself his partner's equal (despite Liu Kang's insistence that such competition is unnecessary). Their Jaeger, White Lotus, is a well-rounded, powerful machine, featuring high-powered flamethrowers, as well as a system of fuel vents that allow it to set its fists alight and heat them to brutal temperatures in close-quarters battle. For ranged combat, it utilizes a circular blade mounted to its head, which can be thrown like a boomerang with enough force to slice through buildings. 

Kitana and Jade Jaeger: Edenia Glory Original Base: Lima

Interplanetary refugees, Kitana and Jade escaped to Earth after their homeworld was attacked and overrun by Kaiju invaders.  Their spacecraft crashed in the middle of the Amazon rainforest, and though they immediately searched for civilization in order to warn Earth’s people of what was to come, the first wave of attacks had already begun.  After making their way to Lima, they volunteered to put their combat skills and close bond to use as rangers in the South American Jaeger program. Together they have defended the coasts of Chile and Peru since the Mark-2 days, though between battles, they spend their time in communication with the PPDC and the U.N., sharing what information they can about the Kaiju and other alien life previously unknown on Earth. Their Jaeger, Edenia Glory incorporates technological elements from their original planet not used in any other Jaeger, and is lithe, fast, and deadly, with a style focused primarily on precision bladework rather than hand to hand brawling.  Its name is a tribute to their lost homeworld, and they use it to great effect to prevent Earth from suffering the same fate.

Sonya Blade and Jackson "Jax" Briggs (later Johnny Cage) Jaeger: Flawless Victory Original Base: Los Angeles

Both Lt. Sonya Blade and Maj. Jax Briggs had successful careers in the U.S military behind them when the first Kaiju came ashore and attacked San Francisco.  Though at the time, Sonya was in the field pursuing the criminal Kano, she returned to the states when her friend and superior officer, Jax, suggested that they might be good candidates for the newly-formed ranger program.  He proved to be right, and the two did time at the Shatterdomes in both Los Angeles and Anchorage, fighting off Kaiju from Canada to Mexico, and became well-admired figures within the military for their ascent.  Though far from unscathed, the ostentatiously-named Flawless Victory is the last American Jaeger left standing by the time the program is decommissioned and is a tank of a machine, sacrificing some speed for the greatest physical strength of any Jaeger still on the field. Like the other American Jaegers, for long range combat it favors plasma cannons and explosives- particularly a ring-shaped plasma blast with wider coverage than the usual single beam- but it is at its most effective when delivering a crushing beatdown up close and personal. Johnny Cage is the star of a popular series of action films dramatizing the battles of the Jaegers and Kaiju, and to many civilians at home, is as much the face of the Jaeger program as its real members.  He has a secret ambition to become an actual pilot and has an impressive record in simulations, but because of his celebrity status (and his personality), Marshal Raiden and the other Jaeger teams refuse to consider him as a true contender.  However, when a vicious fight with two Kaiju at once leaves both of Jax's arms shattered, taking him out of commission as a pilot for the foreseeable future, Sonya is forced to accept Johnny as her new co-pilot in order to keep Flawless Victory in the fray where it is needed. Despite her irritation with him, they turn out to be drift compatible, and become a formidable duo in their own right.

Hanzo Hasashi and Kuai Liang Jaeger: Phantom Vengeance Original Base: Nagasaki

From the Nagasaki Shatterdome, the bright yellow Mark-3 Jaeger Shirai Ryu defended the coast of the Yellow Sea across three countries.  Its building was overseen by its husband and wife pilots, Hanzo and Harumi Hasashi, and it was named for the legendary warrior clan from which Hanzo claimed descent.  It was in service for four years, though Hanzo and Harumi always spent as much time as possible between missions with their young son Satoshi, who lived with them in their quarters at the base so that his parents could still have a part in raising him in a world that would not guarantee a reunion for families who choose to separate. Across the sea based in Shanghai was an organization known as the Lin Kuei, a private military contractor funded by shadowy, unknown sources.  Though its bread and butter was anti-Kaiju weaponry, it also began to develop its own Jaegers- the only ones outside the PPDC, created from illicitly obtained blueprints, and hireable for the right price.  Its crown jewel was a small, stealthy machine called simply Sub-Zero, unique for its proficiency underwater and tendency to use coolant as a weapon rather than fire or explosives, and piloted by two brothers- Bi-Han and Kuai Liang. When the massive Kaiju Kintaro directly attacked the Nagasaki Shatterdome, Shirai Ryu was the only Jaeger left to defend it. Desperate, the Hasashis attempted to contact the Lin Kuei, as they were closer than the nearest other Shatterdome in Tokyo.  They received no response and were forced into battle alone, and though they prevailed, the price was too high- not only Harumi’s life when part of their cockpit was crushed, but Satoshi’s as well, buried in the wreckage of the base.  In his grief, Hanzo blamed the Lin Kuei- particularly Bi-Han, with whom he had never gotten along- for what he perceived as a failure to act due to greed and amorality. What Hanzo did not know that day was that they were experiencing the first double event in history, and Sub-Zero and the Lin Kuei were under attack by the Kaiju Sheeva at the same time.  The Kaiju hivemind had figured out Sub-Zero’s usual strategy of attacking from the water, and were ready with an acidic bite that tore a hole in the cockpit, which rapidly flooded.  After a similar failure to make contact with Shirai Ryu, Bi-Han was swept out into the sea and presumably drowned (though his body was never recovered), but Kuai Liang, despite a bleeding face and water up to his neck, managed to kill the Kaiju mere moments before Sub-Zero ceased to function. After his release from medical, a furious Kuai Liang set off immediately for the remains of the Nagasaki Shatterdome to confront Hanzo for his failure to respond to the attack, since Shanghai was within Nagasaki's area of coverage. Both blinded by rage, they nearly got into a fistfight in the middle of the base, but once they realized what had truly happened, their anger cooled.  They bonded over their grief, and the unfathomable experience of having to pilot a Jaeger alone after such loss- and in the process, discovered they were drift compatible, and that they both wished to continue the fight in retaliation for what the Kaiju had done to their families. Their new Jaeger, Phantom Vengeance, is a strange sight- constructed from salvaged pieces of both Sub-Zero and Shirai Ryu (along with some newer tech to fill the gaps), it looks as much like a walking ghost as its pilots. However, it should not be underestimated based on its appearance. Quick and light (for a Jaeger), it features a retractable grappling hook to drag Kaiju into the range of its blasts of powerful coolant, and a devastating grip to snap them like twigs once frozen. 

Other Players:

After the destruction of Sub-Zero and the defection of Kuai Liang, the Lin Kuei concluded that the problem with the Jaeger program was the human element of drift compatibility, which limited the number of possible pilots and held them back due to concern for their partners in battle.  Therefore, in secret, they began a series of horrific experiments, fusing subjects with their Jaegers to operate more like batteries than true pilots, and erasing their memories through drugging and electric shock in order to create blank minds that could operate together without the complications of emotion.  Assassins Cyrax and Sektor, along with Kuai Liang’s close friend Tomas Vrbada, were among the subjects of this initiative, forced to operate a three-armed machine called Triborg.

Shang Tsung is a scientist, shunned from the academic community and at times running afoul of the law for his unethical- if not outright twisted- biological experiments. He and Marshal Raiden have crossed paths in the past, and though no one knows the details, their enmity towards each other is clear. However, in his desperation after the decommissioning of the Jaeger program, Raiden had Shang Tsung brought from prison to the Hong Kong Shatterdome, and gave him access to whatever parts he needed to find a way to destroy the Kaiju- by any means necessary. Shang Tsung agreed partly because of the money offered, but mostly because the world's destruction would throw quite the wrench into his own personal goals. (And maybe because it was deeply satisfying- and perhaps useful- to have the Marshal in his debt.) Where his allegiance will lie at the end of the day, however, is anyone's guess. 

For such experiments, one needs a steady supply of Kaiju parts, and for contraband like that, Raiden had to look even lower- to the crime syndicate the Black Dragon, led by Kano and including his associates, Kabal and Erron Black.  Though once mercenaries dealing in everything from illicit arms trading to assassination, the Black Dragon followed the money and and put all their resources into the trafficking of Kaiju parts.  With demand so high, they have become immensely powerful, but their involvement with the PPDC in the name of greater profits ends up bringing Kano face to face with his old nemesis, Sonya Blade- with predictably violent results.

Nightwolf was the historian of the Matoka tribe, which had long ago predicted a great cataclysm that would bring about the end of life on earth.  Though he had been skeptical that such legends were real, when that cataclysm came to pass in the form of the Kaiju invasion, Nightwolf was not content to merely await a prophesied destruction.  He left home and applied for the ranger program, but although he trained toward being a pilot and had the necessary combat skills, he never found a partner with whom he was drift compatible.  Rather than dwell on this with resentment, he pivoted his focus into other ways he could help, and found his place as a technician and LOCCENT officer.  Transferred to Hong Kong after the decommissioning of the Jaeger program, he was the rangers’ primary point of communication with the base while in battle.

Though most of the world fears the Kaiju, there are also those who worship them, and such admiration has evolved over the years into a full-blown religion.  The shadowy high priest of this cult is Quan Chi, who claims that the Kaiju have been sent by the God of Death himself- to end the days of humans on Earth as we so richly deserve.  Recently, a strange, hollow-eyed man calling himself Noob Saibot has appeared like a shadow at Quan Chi’s side, serving as his personal bodyguard against all threats and a fellow ardent believer in the inevitability of humanity’s destruction. Mileena is a grotesque fusion of Kaiju DNA with that of Kitana, which was stolen against her will when she was injured and bled during the invasion of Edenia. She enters Earth as a general of the Kaiju, connected to their hivemind, along with the first Category 5 to ever come through the breach, Goro.  Together, they intend to ensure the will of their creator and the ruler of the Anteverse- Shao Kahn- is carried out.

[cursestothemoon]

Hey lovely! Is it ok if i ask for a blurb or hc (whatever suits you the best) with fred? Like after the war and everyone makes it (as well as freddie) and the people from the order and the weasleys (with their partners) have Sunday meetings at the burrow, like them having dinner and playing quidditch or outside having like a bonfire night and everyone tells stories 🥺

All Of Us

F.W. X READER

Warnings: mentions of war/battle, mentions of past injury , kind of sAD WOW I WASN’T EXPECTING THAT, mentions of people who had died, one curse word, mentions of being nauseous 

The wind swept through the tall blades of grass, each haulm moving balletically in the hills that rolled behind the warm, brown, slightly askew, home. During the months of war the Burrow had been a symbol of safety, for you, the Weasley children- old and young- and members of the order. 

The second Wizarding War was a dark time for most people, trust dissolved into code words and relentless questioning. Remus Lupin sat with a plate half full of pancakes absolutely bathing in sticky sweet syrup- breakfast had ended thirty minutes ago- as he tickled his son, bouncing the small boy on his knee. It seemed to have been a lifetime ago when he had begged Harry to let him join the hunt for horcrux, begged to free his wife and unborn child of his self. 

“Uncle Pads is here!”  The voice followed a familiar pop. 

Sirius Black waltzed through the room greeting everyone, his head of healthy hair-ever since the war was won Sirius seemed to glow- bounced around his face. A dark veil had followed Sirius around most of his life, growing up with the cruciatus curse as a guiding hand and the cracking of human bone morphing into that of a canine was a sound he knew would ring in his ears for lifetimes to come. 

You walked over to Sirius with a soft smile, “Hi, Sirius.”

The quiet buzz of the group had grown into a rowdy rumble of voices and laughs as Bill and Charlie Weasley joined in, coming from the backyard. You made your way to the bottom of the stairs, waiting to hear Fred start to descend the stairs. A stumble sounded from the top of the steps, followed by a few grunts as someone went down the stairs one step at a time. You moved to watch Fred slowly make his way down. 

Fred was laughing, eyes crinkled, an honest chuckle passing his lips made the crumbling of the wall behind him almost unnoticeable. What was noticeable was the weight of the rubble hitting him, it had knocked the air out of his lungs and he was sure that was it. He thought of you when it happened, he hadn’t told you, but he thought of you and he thought of never seeing you again. Fred decided he just couldn’t allow that. 

He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, yours going around his waist, as you two walked into the kitchen. Fred now walked with a limp, the wall had caused him to lose feeling in a little less than half of his right leg and injured it beyond magical mending. His new gait was something he worked to get used to, the pain slowly but surely fading with each day. 

“Thanks, love.” He smirked, leaning down to give you a quick peck on the lips before walking over to his brothers. 

Your time to admire Fred was cut short as Ginny and Tonks apparated next to you, Ginny on your right and Tonks on your left. 

“I hope one day it won’t be so nauseating catching you eye fucking my brother like that.” Ginny said with her face screwing into one of disgust. 

You gave her shoulder a playful shove, “Shut it.”

Tonks laughed at the both of you before suggesting to get lunch ready, a tall feat when there were over ten people starting to get hungry. 

The day passed with the same lightness of the morning and noon, and more people made an appearance for the traditional Sunday at the Weasley’s. Kingsley Shacklebolt and Minerva Mcgonagall had even decided to attend dinner, showing up just as the sun started to set. 

McGonagall usually had to fight the urge to shed a few tears when she arrived to these dinners. Little Remus Lupin sat with his wife and son, a blinding, boyish, smile making the scars on his face disappear completely. Charming Sirius, who had suffered through so much, now holding a newborn baby-Bill’s first- with such gentility you could barely tell he only learned such care at age fifteen when James Potter took him into his home and held a crying boy with the same gentleness. Harry looking over his godfather’s shoulder was almost too much for poor Minerva to take in, he looked just like James. 

“Where do you think you’re going, poppet?” Fred asked as you removed yourself from his lap, stretching as you stood up.

The older woman watched with a smile as you pressed a loving kiss to your boyfriend’s forehead before walking into the kitchen, presumably to help Molly. She remembers when you two had gotten together, flamboyant as it was, who could forget it? It was your sixth year, and Fred had walked into the Transfiguration classroom with so much vigor he hadn’t seen you trying to leave. The force at which he knocked into you had knocked you to the ground and caused Minerva to let out a gasp. From that point on Fred had made sure to turn the charm up to one hundred and you two were dating in no time. 

Seeing the way Fred looked at you made Mcgonagall sure that she’d be receiving a wedding invitation soon. 

“Alright dinner’s ready! Bill! Charlie! Put that quaffle down and come help the others bring the second table out.” Molly called, her head sticking out from the kitchen window.

Bill and Charlie landed on the ground and tossed the quaffle they had been playing with onto the ground along with their brooms. The brothers jogged into the house, only to come out holding up the end of a table helping Sirius, Remus, and Ron. 

You helped set the table along with George and Ginny. The napkins were folded, utensils placed uniformly near each plate, and strings of lights strung up around the dining area- curtesy of you, George, and your wands. 

Everyone sat down to eat, Bill pulled out Fleur’s chair before sitting next to her and placing a hand on her growing bump- Molly cradling her first grandchild to her chest. Remus, Tonks, and Teddy sat next to each other, Remus helping cut up his sons food into manageable pieces as Tonk’s morphed her face into that of different animals to keep the toddler entertained. George sat on the right of Professor Mcgonagall and Sirius on her left, both talking their former head of house’s ear off- Angelina Johnson was a hot topic for George, she had noticed. Harry and Ginny sat at the end of the table, Ginny talking animatedly about something as Harry listened with a lovesick gaze. 

“Seems like I haven’t seen you for ages.” Fred smirked, sitting down in his usual chair- the one right next to yours. 

You turned to look at him with eyes that clearly had tiredness weighing them down, “I’m sorry, helping kept me busy, there are more people here today.”

Fred brought his hand to rest on your thigh, his thumb caressing the skin with a calming back and forth motion as his other hand cupped your jaw. He brought your face towards his, your lips met in a tender kiss before he pulled away not before giving your nose another soft kiss. 

“Tomorrow I’m keeping you all to myself.” He lowered his voice, hand gripping your thigh now. 

You rubbed your foot against his shin, “I’ll be looking forward to it.”

Fred gave you a wink before turning to his food, you following suit, giggling into your mashed potatoes. 

Dinner progressed with stories shared and gentle smiles passed between the close knit group. Sirius talked theatrically, his hands flailing wildly as he told the story of the time the ‘Marauders’ had pranked the entire house of Salazar Slytherin with a rogue stag in the common room. 

“We barely got Prongs out of there in time, Filch was hot on our trail.” Sirius grinned along with a giggling Remus. 

Silence fell over the group as Sirius’ eyes started to water, Remus not far behind. Suddenly, heavy emotion had blanketed over everyone as they thought about everyone they had lost to get to where they were. You gripped Fred’s hand under the table, hoping to ground yourself for a moment. 

Sirius raised his glass of fire whiskey slowly, a tearfully smile painting itself onto his handsome features. 

“To us... all of us.”

tags:

@siriusement

@amourtentiaa

@vsawyer1989​

@lifeofkaze

@theorangedrummer

@maraudersgirlxx

@famdomhideout

@raabya

@an2402lths

@escapingrealitybyreading

@readyg0erge (it wont tag i am sorry)

[love-hatred-stuff]

Bets } Kim Sunwoo [theboyz]

feat. Eric, Jacob, Kevin, Juyeon

genre: angst, fluff

warning(s): violence, obsession and manipulation (he's not hurting u or anything)

word count: 2.4k

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Y/N's POV

I was currently at my high school.

I had just finished my studies in the library and it was already evening but I decided to stay longer today as my boyfriend was training with his friends in the basket hall. But it was fine because it was already pretty late and the boys should be finished now and I could finally see Sunwoo.

We have been dating for six months and I feel very comfortable with him, it almost feels like I found the one I wanna be with for the rest of my life.

Even if I don't know him for so long, he gives me strength, the thing I had never had.

I'm delicate but I tend to hide my feelings in front of people that I don't trust.

Lately something confusing is going on. Sunwoo has been weirdly avoiding me, and his friends that I assume to really like me too, also act very suspicious sometimes.

They would take him away from me to talk to him alone.

I would just be confused and worried about what was going on.

But today I would talk to them about it!

Right in the moment I was walking through the school halls, on my way to them, but I heard loud voices that sounded like they were seriously discussing.

Before I opened the door, I heard my name and was even more concerned.

I figured it would be smarter to just listen to it and wait while hiding.

"Sunwoo, you can't lie to her forever! She is a great person, she doesn't deserve this anymore. Actually she never did."

I sensed the one who said this was Juyeon and he sounded very serious about what he was talking about.

My anxiety started to kick in.

What was I going to hear next?

"I know, she would never deserve this. But I really do like her. I could just keep it as my secret." Now Sunwoo talked, he sounded like he meant what he said.

But what was the damn secret they were talking about? How bad was it?

"Oh wow Sunwoo! You finally fell in love, congrats. Just sad that she was only a game to you in the beginning. You decided to play with the wrong heart." Juyeon said in a very loud and angry tone.

Was he trying to protect me?

"He's right, you should tell her before it will be too much and she finds out herself. Honestly, I hoped she would break up with you because you can be an egoistic ass sometimes!" Now Jacob exclaimed.

"Yeah, I'm sorry guys. But I can't. I will lose her if I tell her that she was a bet. I will lose her, and she will hate me. I couldn't handle that."

I gasped quietly, pressing my palm on my mouth to stay silent.

It was pretty much to take.

My boyfriend just confessed that I was just a bet!? Someone who No one cares about. That's what I was for them.

"But you have to Sunwoo, she's too pure. You will break her. You know she has no one that would take care of her. She was new and lonely when she came here. You made her feel safe and now you're doing this to her? She will never forgive you and feel safe with you again." Juyeon scolded and as I watched them through a little split between the door of the gym hall I saw him grabbing Sunwoo by the collar of his muscle shirt aggressively, having dangerous sparkles in his eyes.

"Either you will do it or I will! And maybe one of us will take her from you. Someone who cares about her heart and feelings." Juyeon grabbed him harder and shook him.

I couldn't watch and hear that any longer so I decided to interrupt their fight.

I abruptly swung the door open, earning all of the boy's eyes.

I approached them pretty fast and pushed Juyeon from Sunwoo.

I didn't want them to hurt each other, although probl all I was for them was a little doll to play with.

"Stop. This is kindergarten. You all are so immature, I can't believe it." I sighed heavily.

Then I locked eyes with Sunwoo, staring in his soul mercilessly.

"You really never would have told me? God, it is really frustrating when you find out, you never knew who your only friends really are. You are little boys, all you care about is fun. Grow the fuck up!" I scoffed at my broken state.

Being ashamed that I had let them do so much to me already.

I looked at all of them. Sunwoo, Juyeon, Jacob, Kevin and Eric. I was honestly disappointed.

And they were also guiltily looking back at me.

"What? Are you enjoying seeing me suffer under your game?" I asked.

"Look Y/N, we are truly sorry for what we did. I know it was immature and I promise we will make it up to you."

I scoffed again at Juyeon's words with a weak sarcastic smile on my lips.

"Do you think I still want to hang out with you guys? You betrayed me. I'm not dumb, I know you sprayed rumours around about me, just so everyone was going to keep their distance to me. And I think you didn't even realize that you did this so you had me just to yourself. While I was too blind of happiness. I hate you for what you did. I won't be your puppet any longer!" I made clear while my vision started to blurry because my eyes were getting teary.

Sunwoo grabbed my arm in desperation.

"Please don't break up with me." His begging voice sent a shiver down my spine.

"That's all you have to say? I think it would be the best if I would leave you and your games alone."

Tears started silently rolling down my cheeks.

But still, no one was talking or reacting. Just pleading eyes were looking at me.

"I wonder who will be the next victim. Whatever, I hope you will have your fun." I smiled pathetically and turned around.

"Don't leave us Y/N. We love you and never wanted to hurt you." Juyeon's calming voice stopped my movements.

I looked at him again.

"You love me so much that you forget how to care about my feelings? I loved you too, but it's over for now." I stated and left the hall.

They looked after me in sadness.

Third person's POV

"See what you did, Sunwoo!" Eric pushed him to the ground.

Sunwoo looked down, letting his tears fall on the ground as well.

"Now we all lost the only girl we ever liked!" Juyeon kicked Sunwoo in his stomach, making him clench his jaw in pain.

"Stop, Y/N doesn't like when we hurt someone, especially each other." Kevin wanted to stop him from hitting the crying boy on the ground by grabbing his arm.

But he wouldn't budge and continued, making him bleed and bruised all over.

"She is gone now!" Juyeon yelled and kicked Sunwoo again, earning quiet cries and groans from him.

"It's enough!" Jacob shoved him away from the almost defaced Sunwoo.

"You can't hurt your best friend!" He reminded him with a strong tone.

"But he stole the girl that was supposed to be mine. It's his fault she left us!" Juyeon defended himself.

"We all lost her, Juyeon. But you don't have to hurt Sunwoo even more. Don't you see him?"

Juyeon now looked at him, sitting on the ground, still crying, with bruises all over his body and a bleeding nose and lip.

Now he felt slightly sorry for overdoing it, although he knew that Sunwoo's beloved girlfriend just broke up with him. That alone surely were so painful for him already.

Of course it was too much to handle for him.

After all Juyeon is the older one and he should have kept his control instead of beating him up.

And Sunwoo had even endured it, he did not flinch a single time that Juyeon punched him.

"Hey, sorry bro." He tapped his shoulder in apology.

"I will take you home, come on." Jacob helped him to stand up so they could walk to his car.

•the next day•

Sunwoo walked through the busy halls of his high school.

He was sad, angry at himself and depressed.

He loved her so bad but he screwed up.

And he understood why Juyeon beat him up yesterday, he was glad so he wouldn't have to hurt himself for a while.

His head was down and the playful smile he always wore was completely gone.

Suddenly he felt a small hand grab him, that pulled him to the narrow room where stuff for the facility manager was.

He couldn't make out the face of the person that took him there until she was standing face to face with him in this room.

Now his eyes glowed, it was the prettiest face he had ever seen.

It was his girl, the one that broke his heart just yesterday. But all he cared about was that she was standing in front of him now.

Y/N's POV

It was me, and he had broken my heart even more.

"Who did this to you?" I wanted to know instantly, coming straight to the point.

"Huh?" He was surprised I even talked to him.

"Who beat you up like this?" I exerted more pressure in my voice.

"Oh, um.." Sunwoo looked down, suddenly so shy and insecure.

What was going on?

Usually he was the one that would do this to people that bothered him, but he would never let someone do this to his handsome face.

I wondered if his face was the only affected place on his body, so I slowly lifted up his thin t-shirt, exposing hurted muscles and bruises all over his stomach.

It looked really painful.

I never saw him being hurt that much. And it also affected me.

To know that I hadn't had protected him, made me feel guilty.

I felt bad.

"Sunwoo, who the fuck did this to you? And why did you let this even happen?"

He was looking in my eyes, down at me, not sure if he should tell the truth.

But I think he learned his lesson, lying is bad and has consequences.

"It was Juyeon. But it's fine, I allowed him." He talked unusually quietly and I didn't like it at all. I hated it.

I wanted my confident Boyfriend back that wanted to hold my hand the whole day and whenever he had the chance, kissed me to give me his love and affection.

Where was the old Sunwoo?

"Why?"

How could Juyeon do this to him?

He, no, all of them knew what I thought of physical aggression.

"I miss you Y/N." He cried in the crook of my neck after he had made a quick step forward.

When I didn't move, he put his hands around my waist and hugged me gently.

"It's been one day." I reminded him.

He could have handled that.

"Yes, but I know that I lost you forever." He hugged me tighter.

I heard him sniff his tears back.

"Why do you care so much?" I started patting his back lightly.

Even though he hurted me so much with his actions, I still cared about him. More than about anyone else.

"Because I love you Y/N."

He really did?

I knew he and his friends were a little obsessed with me, but he never actually said these three words.

And now I even knew, he wasn't the only one that had serious feelings for me.

Juyeon had done this to him because he was angry at Sunwoo that I left him, and also his friends.

I figured that he did this because he also had feelings for me. I could judge only by his look and body language the day before. And I wasn't sure if that was a good thing.

Iliked him too, everyone of them, but not the way I liked Sunwoo. It would make things even more complicated between us.

"Why did you do this to me then?"

Sunwoo backed away a little, so he could see my face properly.

"We didn't know you when we started this. But when we got to know you, each of us felt something. I guess we just weren't aware that we were having feelings for you because we never really had some for anybody. So we were toxic and manipulated you and everyone that was interested in you, so no one would steal you from us. And I'm so so sorry, baby. I wanna have you back, I promise I changed."

I was impressed that he had explained everything so truthfully.

And I was proud in some way.

He had always controlled me, but he also always was my little boy.

They all were clingy and needy around me, just how someone would act when they liked someone.

I think I could forgive him if he would prove to me that he had really changed.

But could I forgive Juyeon for doing this to his best friend, for losing his self control and letting him down like this?

"And why let you Juyeon hurt you? You are supposed to be kind to each other, as friends. He truly hurt you. Look." I stroked my thumb over his lip where a little bit of dried blood was left.

On his left cheek was a big, green and blue bruise that went up to his eye. It was a bit swollen and he couldn't open his left eye completely.

I forgot everything around me and just admired his his cute baby face. Even if he looked a bit tired and miserable, I still found him utterly adorable.

"I wanna kiss you, Y/N." He whispered, when I noticed our position and that he was staring at me as well.

But I just didn't care anymore what he had done to me, I was sorry for what his friend did to him and that he was sad because I left him.

So I shove all my doubts away and tiptoed so I could kiss his full lips to convince my heart, that I had to give him another chance. It was everything I wanted at this moment.

I think I loved this boy.

Although it was probably pretty stupid of me to trust him again, I just needed him too much because he was everything I had and everything I always wanted.

He pressed me against his toned body and gave me a kiss full of love, to show me that I wouldn't regret choosing him over everything.

The gif and the pictures that I used for the cover are not mine, credits to the owners :)

[sky-arcobaleno]

memories of the forest

Katsuki Bakugou x Reader; 

Sky piercing trees loomed an unreachable canopy above her head as she raced through the forest’s lower jungle. Vines and upturning roots were nothing to her skilled bare feet. Dodging another low branch, the cheeky girl laughed to herself. Her clan would never be able to catch her here! Within Teair’s close knitted playground, this child of the sky wandered freely. Slowing down to a small stream, the girl perked up at the sound of a grass being moved. Something was here. Something….soft? Standing up and brushing off her deer skirt, she turned around to see her uninvited guest. She blinked, genuinely confused, as a vulpine beast with four tails sat in front of her. The tips of its tails were a soft autumn orange. It was….divine like. Nothing like Grandame Forneil, but close. 

“Who are you?” The voice was male, but a child male. Close around her age...maybe. She would find out. 

“I’m a daughter of the sky! Who are you?” the beast curled its tails around its feet. Seeming to observe her before answering.

“A beast of fire.” She laughed to herself, but not quiet at all. 

“You are a land beast of flames!” The vulpine beast growled, quickly crouching down, ready to pounce. She only looked at the vulpine beast before giggling. 

“Silly vulpine! You are land fire. I am -” the mighty roar of Grandame Gowyual trembled the loose dirt below the girl’s feet. Giggling louder, the girl finished her sentence. “- sky fire!”

It had been a few summers since she saw that land firefox of four tails. Ah...Kitsune, Grandame Forneil had explained the night of the fateful day. A Kitsune of four tails at such an age was a feat Forneil had continued on. She was lucky that Kitsune was curious about her, lest the beast grow bored and end her life. Sighing and shaking her braid behind her, the now young teen races through the same forest. This time, instead of playing hide & seek, she was practicing her tracking and hunting skills. 

“Skills of a warrior. A survivor.” Grandame Locoful had croaked out before she left the nest with Grandame Forneil. Skidding to a halt and notching her arrow, focused gray eyes followed the peaceful deer. She was with a child, if the bigger belly was anything to go by. Removing her arrow and turning around, gray eyes locked on a sight of wonder. A golden kitsune with five tails, tipped in a familiar autumn tone. Ah…a fire kitsune. That’s when knowing crimson locked on her. Suddenly, she felt as if she was facing a true predator. A predator of many hunts and had victory in its tight bite. The kitsune rose, a head or two taller than her, and began to walk towards her. A small spark of fear struck her body, tensing her muscles. She was ready to fight. As the kitsune reached about a few paces ahead, the sudden breeze came. On its path...the smell of….smoke? Turning in the breeze’s direction, the girl saw the thick mog. Small, but growing rapidly. 

“Stupid humans!” the girl mumbled under her breath. Was she human? She assumed not. After all, she lived with dragons. No mere mortal could live as long as she had. Glancing at the kitsune, who was watching her actions, the girl spoke in her serious voice as she stood up right. 

“This is not the work of dragons. I will return with a dragon of water to save this forest.” The kitsune only tilted its head before speaking in a deep voice.

“A ride to a clearing may be the fastest way.” A kitsune making an offer? A trick if the situation wasn’t growing dire every minute. With a brisk nod, she walked over and carefully got on the furred back of the majestic beast. With ease, the beast ran through the thicket. No fur caught on low limbs and nothing hesitated the pathway. That’s when heavy clouds of ashy smoke filled the air and her breath. Fire. A forest fire caused by inattentive mortals. 

“You will not reach the clearing in time.” fearing for the woods and the lives within, the girl hummed to herself before stretching both arms to the sky.

“Hear my cry! O’ beast of the lake. Take flight to the Azure’s Domain and bring the blessing of new beginnings! Locoful, dragon of Shiramizu! Hear me and cry out your blessing!” The heavy snaps of trees falling and the crackling of flames echoed back. Her cry was swallowed by the dire situation. The kitsune whacked her head.

“No dragon will hear you, imbecile.” She growled at the statement. Hoping it was false. Locoful would hear her. She always did. 

“She will not abandon her fledgling.” The beast of fire exhaled heavily before turning around.

“Then at least be alive for her to save you.” Then, the Kitsune took off again. Running away from the flames. It is then, as the Kitsune jumped over a fallen log, a mighty roar and the sound of heavy crashing swallowed the air. 

“Locoful!!” She cried, overjoyed, as the mighty dragon arrived. Within mere moments, the forest fire was put to rest and the mighty beast stared at her and the Kitusne. Slipping off the Kitsune’s back and reaching Locoful’s side, the girl spoke.

“See Kitsune, beast of land fire? Locoful will always answer her fledgling’s cry.”

It was hardly a season’s changing since the forest fire, when she found herself alone by the lake nest. Around her, curled protectively, laid Setluno. Setluno was a young dragon, half the age of Grandame Forneil. Setluno was the only one who played with her. Now, Setluno is forever embraced by the forest’s trees and the lake’s watery shoreline. In front of the nest’s entrance, Gowyral was delimbed and beheaded by a blade endowed with magic. The lake was boiling in rage as Gowyral fell. Locoful had died upon return to the nest, multiple poisonous arrows cracking her scales and the poison taking her life before she could finish her warning. Forneil was the only one alive. Yet, she was over a season’s change away. She wanted Forneil to come back. Avenge the nest. Protect her. Save her. She was scared and lonely. She was no beast of sky fire. She was a mortal. Just like those responsible for the death of her nestmates. So blinded by the emotions she felt and the events that occurred within three sun positions, she didn’t notice the lake’s water coming into the nest. Hardly felt the power shifting within her. Never noticed how she was no longer pooled in blood, but now in the sky, riding a mighty beast. Intended on killing those who took her nest.

He heard the mournful cry of a dragon before he saw one take flight. Yet, this dragon was not one of the physical planes. No. This dragon was alive by the sheer magic of a mortal. A mortal intent on bringing justice. His favorite mortal to be precise. What had happened? Taking off in pursuit, he saw how the dragon looked, searched, for something or someone. What mission required such measures of hunting and tracking? That’s when the tree sprites, Kodama, began to whisper.

“Dragons dead”

“Beast slain by man”

“Oyamatsumi is enraged”

“So is Ryujin and Fujin”

“The fledgling calls for blood.”

“She will kill everyone.” Fearing that his mortal might do just that, the Kitsune prayed to his given deity. Prayed that his human would have to take rest on the ground. Allow him a chance to guide her away from the path of evil. 

“Please let me get to her in time. For the world will be chaos if she succeeds.”

Three summers have passed since that loss of her nest. She now ruled the forest with a close eye. Grandame Forneil was so broken by the deaths of her flightmates, she had taken her own life in the very same lake. Now, that lake was surrounded by beautiful flowers that would poison anyone who touched them. The only saving grace from them was if the person had suffered such a loss as she has. Now alone within the woods she called home, a thought passed her mind. Why her dragons? Why not her? This thought had haunted her for many nights and days. Nothing could stop these thoughts except the occasional hunting trips and killing off gluttonous men. Now, she stood in the lake’s shallow shores, naked under the sunlight. A bath after a recent hunting trip, when the snap of a branch caught her ear. Within a mere moment, she stood with her bow taunt and arrow notched, aimed at the noise. Only to see the familiar Kitsune. Yet, he now bore six tails. He had grown more powerful in the last three summers. They watched each other, waiting for the other to make a move, when she lowered her bow and set it on the sand. 

“What, beast of land fire?” The Kitsune huffed, keeping its distance. 

“You are not meant to be alone, mortal of flames. You need to be with others.” Gray eyes stared into crimson. She knew the Kitsune was correct. He usually was. Yet, to be with others meant risking another nest massacre. She couldn’t handle another heartbreak like that. 

“Leave Kitsune.”

“You know my name. Use it.” She shook her head. A name meant power. Power she did not deserve. Suddenly, a warm cloth covered her shoulders and a man’s voice spoke closer to her.

“Y/N, the others miss you. The forest misses you! I...I miss you.” Warm arms enclosed her, making her heart beat faster and her mind filled with happy, joyous memories of younger times. 

“Please...please don’t make me remember Kitsune.” The arms tightened, and the man’s voice returned.

“I will always remind you of the joy life can bring. But first, you must take my hand.”

She now stood before the overwhelming hearth of the mountain. She had found the murderers of her nest. The cause for her mourning. The cause of her grief. Today, she will return the favor. With her blade drawn and her eyes focused, Y/N was about to take the killing blow, when she saw the triplets resting in the mother’s arms. Suddenly, like ice had appeared, it sent shivers down her back. A mother and her children. Innocent children. With quick thoughts and quicker reflexes, she turned around and began to spirit back in the forest. The forest was now alive, gleaming with life. Yet, life that could be easily taken away.  Tears pricked her eyes and she tumbled down a hill. She could only feel the numbness in her heart. She had nearly repeated history again. With another family. Another generation of hurt and hate. Y/N closed her eyes, hoping for the tears to disappear. For this pain to leave. 

He watched in slow motion as his mate, his Rook, leaped in front of him. Taking the killing blow from the monstrous demon Shi-gi. He watched, as his luminous flames encircled her body. A mortal with Kitsune Flames. Proof of their mate bond. He was enticed by the way she reached for the heavens, crying out for her deceased nestmates, and aimed her hands at Shi-gi.

“From the dust and stars, a life is born. To dust and star, life returns. From the mighty cry of a dragon and the plead of humanity, I fused the realms to grant my inner desire and wish!” He watched, as the five primordial deities appeared in forms of a phoenix, tiger, snake, tortoise, and….dragon. Together with his mate, the beings reached out their hands and gave power to her.

“I command the soul of Shi-gi to be bound to the realms of the inner Earth! May no beast, no mortal, no divine being find you. May you wirth in the chaos of the world and never be able to take part in its affairs! I bound thee to this plane and no other!! I banish you Shi-gi, from paradise and hell itself!!” His flames encircled her and suddenly, he remembered the price for banishment from Paradise. A soul for a soul.

“No!” He reached out, but only the feeling of his flames returned. His mate, now burning away in his flames, smiled at him.

“Find me again my love. In a time where you and I can co-exist without Shi-gi.”

He mourned to himself as the forest his love protected was burned by his flames. No. There was no world without her smile. No reason to continue if she wasn’t there. No point in existence. Turning around, ready to end his own and see her, a glimpse of something flashed through his mind’s eye. A girl, with amber hair and glowing eyes, running away from him in a playful manner. The same girl mocking his sharp teeth. The girl seeking the yokai realm for the first time. Then, the same girl bore his mark. A mark only he could create. Like lightning, he turned away from the murderous flames and ran through the woods. He couldn’t die. Just as his mate asked, he would find her again. Find her in a time where that cursed Shi-gi did not exist. His name is not even remembered by humanity. She had returned to the world of the living in some time. He would have to be there, ready and waiting, to meet her all over again.

[shera-dnd]

Chapter 2 of our little Princess and Knight AU adventures. Now that we’re all familiar with the princess, I think it is time we were introduced to the knight in question

You can read this fic through the AO3 link above or under the read more link down here. Whichever one works for you.

That night the white knight marched into Lady Schnee’s tent. Though her stance was determined, her steps were weary after the long day of constant fighting, and her demoralizing defeat.

“Lady Weiss,” greeted the Schnee servant that waited within, “it’s good to see you well.”

He was a man whose largeness of body was only matched by that of his heart. Every word that left from under his full mustache was spoken with a care, and kindness, that Weiss had yet to receive from anyone else.

“It is good to see you as well, Klein,” she replied as she found herself a bench to slump on.

She took off her helmet for the first time all day, releasing her long ponytail of silver hair from its confinement. Taking a nearby piece of cloth she wiped the sweat that had gathered on her brow, and let out a sigh she had been holding all evening.

“I take it the tournament did not go as you expected,” he commented.

“I’ve lost,” she simply declared, not wanting to linger on this topic much longer.

“I’m truly sorry to hear it, my lady,” he replied, placing a hand on her shoulder, “but this is only your first tournament, Lady Weiss. There will be plenty of chances to make the people of Atlas see you for the knight you are.”

“Thank you, Klein,” she replied, offering the man the best smile she could manage, but it was as weak as she felt in that moment, “but I can’t help but dread that this humiliation has set a standard for my coming battles.”

“Humiliation is what you’ve brought upon half my men today,” her sister declared as she joined them within the tent.

The stern glacier of a woman that was Lady Winter of House Schnee, Knight of the Winter Maiden, grew but a few degrees warmer as she saw the defeated expression on her sister’s face, and for a moment the facade melted away; she was simply Winter.

“You fought well, Weiss,” she assured her, “you stood on equal footing with the Black Knight of Vale. That is not a feat to be taken lightly.”

“Thank you,” Weiss sighed, but accepted the praise, “I’m glad to have made good on our training.”

Winter gave her a nod and a proud smile, before the frigid winds of her duty froze her expression once again into that of Lady Schnee.

“Now, I must be on my way,” she informed, “Knight Commander Ironwood has requested my presence.”

“Of course,” Weiss replied, bowing her head slightly as she did so, “when should I expect your company again?”

Her sister stopped to think for a moment.

“If your identity is to remain a secret, I do not believe it is wise for us to meet in person any time soon,” she concluded. Weiss understood her decision, but that did not mean she found any joy in it.

“Understood,” she surrendered, “I wish you luck with your preparations, sister.”

“And you with yours.”

As she left she also seemed to take Weiss’s high spirits with her, leaving her only with her lingering frustration over her defeat, and dread over the coming month without her sister.

“I believe I am in need of some fresh air,” she eventually declared. She picked her helmet up and added, “I’ll just be stepping into the woods for a moment. No point risking exposing myself.”

“Do stay safe, Lady Weiss,” Klein asked, voice full of worry.

“I still have my sword and the iron of my armor,” she assured him, “unless Lady Blake returns for a second round, I believe I’ll be fine.”

As silently as she could, Weiss stepped away from the tent and quickly made her way to the forest; only removing her helmet again once she was sure she was fully out of sight of the festival goers. She took a deep breath, taking in the fresh scents of the forest that stretched around her, placing her focus anywhere but in the frustration that boiled inside her in that moment.

Weiss shook her head and groaned loudly, kicking at a patch of grass in her way. It wasn’t working. Perhaps a brisk walk would do better at working that disappointment out of her. Though certainly brisk, what she did do was closer to stomping than it was to walking.

Curse this tournament, curse this Black Knight, curse Lord Ironwood, and curse her father while she was at it!She always made a point to stop to curse him whenever such a foul mood struck her. It was a good habit to keep, all things considered. He always had at least some fault in her foul moods, and perhaps one day one of these curses would finally land and the bastard would die some ignoble death.

No, no, it wasn’t proper of her to get like this. She was the heiress of House Schnee and if she was to maintain such a title she had to play by his rules - Winter was living proof that he was not above rescinding such privileges after all - though at the very least this White Knight character allowed her some level of much needed freedom.

She leaned back against a nearby tree and rested her head against it, closing her eyes she took another long and deep breath. She had been gone for a while now, it was probably about time she returned to her tent. Wouldn’t want Klein to worry over her well being after all.

“We thought you were dead!” A voice furiously shouted in the distance.

“Good!” Another voice shouted back, “had I stopped to tell you my intentions you would have killed me on the spot instead!”

Weiss opened her eyes. Shit, she wasn’t alone in the woods anymore. She had to get back to camp before anyone caught her here.

“And with good reason!” The first voice replied, “you betrayed us!”

“What I have done was for the good of the fae,” the second voice returned in a steely tone, “you’re just too blinded by vengeance to realize it.”

The good of the fae? There were fae in these woods with her. She had to get away right now and…this could be her chance. Were she to strike a blow against the fae she would be welcomed home as a hero. Her father would have no basis to deny her her right to become a knight.

She snuck closer, trying to catch a glimpse of the two arguing faeries.

“I would rather let vengeance blind me than allow myself to be turned into their pet!” The first voice bit back.

“I am not their pet!” The second denied, “I am their equal!”

“And yet you don their symbols, you wear their face, and you play their game,” the first one continued.

Weiss could almost see them now. It was too dark and the forest was too thick around these parts for her to make out too much detail, but she could see the shapes of the fae locked in bitter argument.

“You may see me as subservient, but I have not forgotten my roots, unseelie,” the second retorted, “I am fae, but I am also a Knight of the Fall Maiden, and it is my duty both to my court and to my kingdom that I help them find peace.”

A fae knight? And one from Vale of all places? Now that was simply not possible. The fae couldn’t even touch iron, let alone wield it as a weapon. And who would even dare to bring one of them to their order in the first place? Only a mad man would ever try.

Weiss stepped forward, now more curious than ever as to who these fae might be. She had to be slow and careful now as to not catch their--

Snap went a twig under the weight of her boots. She looked up to the figures that argued in the woods, only to be met by a familiar pair of golden eyes staring at her and through her soul. It was her.

Weiss’s hand flew to her sword as she stepped back and braced herself for a fight. But as soon as her left foot moved back it was snagged by a root that hadn’t been there before. Maybe she should curse fae tricks next time too, if there was a next time.

When the Black Knight charged at her she did her best to block the blow, but with her posture already precarious as it was, she found herself being pushed to the ground. She raised her blade again, preparing to fight on her back if she had to, but the ‘knight’ deigned only to kick the blade aside and plant her boot on Weiss’s chest.

“Lady Weiss Schnee I presume,” ‘Lady’ Blake greeted, her form now fully human once more, “you have your sister’s scowl. I see it runs in the family.”

“What are you doing?” The other fae demanded, “kill her already.”

The human form that woman had taken was not unfamiliar to Weiss. She remembered the beautiful woman cheering for her from among the crowd, and had entertained asking her for her favor once the real tournament had started. So much for that thought.

“Ah yes, for no evil shall befall us or our people were we to kill the Schnee heir,” Blake replied, sarcasm nearly dripping from her voice.

“Try it,” Weiss challenged, “I’ll make sure you both burn before you have the chance to regret it.”

“That won’t be necessary, my lady,” Blake assured her, “my friend does not wish for the atlesians to find out who we are, and you don’t want your father to find out what you’ve been doing with your free time. I propose we keep each other’s secrets.”

“How are you so sure there is even a secret to be kept?” Weiss bluffed, “how are you to know I don’t have my father’s blessing?”

“I don’t believe you would have suffered those fools at the arena were you able to wield the weight of your name against them,” she countered.

Weiss scowled at her, furious at the thought of being so easily read. Still she refused to give in.

“I will not betray my kingdom by allowing you two to freely enact whatever plans you have,” she declared, “I’d rather you both slay me now than be complicit in your actions.”

“Do not tempt me, Schnee,” the woman in blue threatened.

“As belligerent as my companion is,” Blake interjected, “I don’t believe she has any nefarious plans for you to worry over.”

“Do you really want me to simply trust that you two are only here to enjoy the festival?”

“You are one to speak of trust, human,” the woman in blue countered.

“If it will dissuade your mistrust,” Blake sighed and stepped back from Weiss. She drew her sword and, taking a knee, she planted it on the ground, “I swear on my honor as a Knight of the Fall Maiden that neither me nor Ilia intend any harm and that if you are to keep our secret, we will keep yours too.”

Weiss was taken aback. Lady Blake’s oath carried the conviction of a knight. She spoke with the same unquestioning certainty that Winter had used when she swore herself to the Winter Maiden. Fae or no, there was no doubt in Weiss’s mind that Blake truly saw herself and carried herself as a true knight.

“What?” Ilia scoffed, “are we to simply trust the Schnee? After all her house has done to us?”

Weiss got up and reached for her sword. Ilia braced for a fight, but was caught by surprise when Weiss reached for Blake’s hand and helped her stand up again.

“And I swear on the name of my house,” that earned another scoff, “that I will do you both no harm as long as you do not bring me harm, and I shall keep your secret as long as you keep mine.”

Ilia remained unconvinced, but Lady Blake was relieved to hear it. She placed a hand on their shoulders as they brought them close. They were too busy glaring daggers at each other to spare Blake a scowl.

“Now that that is done with,” she began, “Lady Ilia, Lady Weiss, I believe it’s time we all got back to camp.”

[thesoobfiles]

she was a queen, ani – a. skywalker

Request: anon, one where jedi! reader is in a relationship w/ anakin but she’s insecure about herself and compares herself to padmé but anakin reassures her?

Words: 1.6k

Summary: Reader and Anakin are both Jedi Padawans; however, this doesn’t stop them from pursuing the other and this leads up to their current situation. They’re in a relationship and they love each other very much; but, the Reader can’t help but constantly feel inferior to Anakin’s extremely beautiful and intelligent friend, Senator Padmé Amidala.

A/N: I know the summary is essentially in the request, but I just thought I’d give my summary vs. the requester’s summary; whichever one explains the story better. They’re both there for the same purpose. Also, I’m so sorry this took so long but my writer’s block paired with my lack of time is not a good combo…

-

My first meeting with Padmé Amidala went a little something like this:

- 1 year ago -

Master Windu’s voice boomed in the small meeting room of the Jedi Council, “Padawan (L/N) and Padawan Skywalker, you’ve both been assigned to Senator Amidala.”

“Those who support the new bill, in danger they are.” Master Yoda confirms.

“Your mission starts right away.” Master Mundi added.

“You’ll find her in the hanger; she is waiting for your arrival.” Master Kenobi finishes off.

“Yes, Master.” Anakin said as he bowed before the Council, a slight smile beginning to form at the corners of his lips.

“Thank you for entrusting us with such as important task.” I bow as well before I leave the chamber with Anakin trailing behind me.

“You’re familiar with her, right?” I ask, to clear the air on the way to the hangar, “She’s the one you’ve known since you were nine?”

“Mhm.” Anakin confirms, the smile from before coming back full swing; completely oblivious to the feelings of insecurity beginning to radiate from my form.

“I see…” I reply, eyebrows furrowed in thought as we continue navigating the labyrinth that is the Jedi Temple.

I’ve never seen Senator Amidala before; only ever heard hearsay. I’ve either heard Anakin recall their memories together or happen to catch the occasional story from other Jedi. Other than that, I’m going in blind; however, if I remember correctly, Anakin mistook her for an angel upon their first meeting. She must be beautiful was my last thought before I actually saw her and wow, she is gorgeous.

During my thinking, it turned out my feet carried me all the way to our destination.

My eyes followed Anakin as he ‘casually’ walked up to what I assumed was Senator Amidala, as there were plenty of other Senators awaiting their Jedi escorts. I follow Anakin to the Senator and bow before her, as does he.

“Senator Amidala.” Anakin addresses her as he returns to a standing position.

“Padawan Skywalker.” She replies with a pearly white smile. I assume they’re trying to keep it professional for any prying eyes.

“And you must be Padawan (L/N). It’s nice to meet you.” She says, her focus and smile now on me.

“Likewise, Senator.” I respond, really taking in her features. She has flawless, fair skin and her chestnut brown hair is styled in a sophisticated up-do, adorned with a headpiece of some sort. She wears a rose tinted lipstick and light blush. Her chocolate brown eyes stare at me and my (E/C) ones stare right back. She really is beautiful, I’m screwed…

“Shall we get going, ladies?” Anakin’s voice snaps me out of our staring contest.

“Of course.” I say a little too quickly, “Senator.” I extend my arm in the direction of her ship. She smiles at me, then at Anakin as she boards the ship.

After she boards, Anakin slips his hand into mine. I look around and see everyone minding their own business. I give his hand a squeeze as we walk into our new mission, together.

That was our first meeting. In the span of a standard year, we’ve managed to meet 10 more times; getting assigned or passing by one another almost every month. I’m sure this is quite irregular for any pair of Jedi’s and a Senator.

By now, Anakin and I have been knighted.

I’ve brought up my insecurities to Anakin once before and he quickly shot them down; kissing them away. However, the more time we spend around the Senator, the more it seems to eat at my soul; the fact that this woman has been a Queen and a Senator in her life so far and she’s still so young, older than us, but still young.

“Goodbye, Padmé!” Anakin calls out to the Senator as she heads for her ship.

“Goodbye, Ani! (N/N)!” She calls out to Anakin and myself. I wave goodbye as she retreats into her ship and it leaves Coruscant for Naboo.

Anakin and I return to the Jedi Temple. We’re standing in front of my door and we casually scan our surroundings. Once we’ve determined no one is watching, I open the door and we rush inside.

Immediately, Anakin’s arms are around my figure and he buries his nose into my neck.

I giggle at the attention I’m suddenly receiving, “You’re so touch starved, Ani.” I say as I put my hands on top of his arms.

“You don’t know how hard it is to keep my hands away when we’re in the presence of others.” He says, muffled by my robes.

“I do actually.” I retort, turning to face him and whisper in his ear, “I suffer the same problem.”

“Then it must be fixed!” He sweeps me off my feet, “Ani!” I shout in surprise. He hurriedly carries me to my bed and plops me on it.

“Anakin!” I say as I swat his shoulder, “You should have let me take off my robes first! Do you know how dirty it is? Sitting on unknown ships and prancing about on the battlefield…” I trail off, beginning to take my robes off. He only chuckles at my little reprimanding rant.

“Sorry, your highness. I wasn’t aware you were afraid of a little dirt.” He replies good-naturedly as he too takes off his robes.

Your highness… Royalty… Queen… Queen Amidala…. Padmé Amidala… my mind hovers over the subject of Padmé Amidala, Senator and Anakin’s childhood friend.

I fold my robes with less energy and lie in bed, thinking about Padmé…

We’ve known each other for a year, shedding formalities and acknowledging each other either by nicknames or first name. She calls me (N/N) and I call her Padmé. I once considered ‘Addy’ but thought it was too similar to ‘Ani’, so I dropped it… She may be 5 years older than us; but she looks our age. It’s amazing how she manages to keep up appearances. I mean, she was a queen so it isn’t such a marvelous feat… She’s just so pretty. And regal, even in our presence. I suppose she wouldn’t just drop her regality when she’s with us… I don’t know what’s going on with me; whenever she’s around, I just feel so… inferior. She’s a great person and has a lovely personality, don’t get me wrong. She’s amazing in every way and I’m just-

“Don’t finish that sentence.” Anakin said authoritatively. I was so caught up in my thoughts, I completely forgot Anakin was with me. I turn to my right to see Anakin has settled in bed and has taken a hold of my hand.

He sits up and I mirror his actions. He turns towards me and grabs both of my hands. His cerulean orbs stare right into my soul. I forget, he has a knack for being able to read me like a book.

“You are amazing too.” He reassures me.

“She was a queen, Ani and I’m-“

“You’re a Jedi! Do you know how amazing you really are?” He asks with genuine curiousity.

“You wake up every day – risk your life every day – to go fight for the Republic! You command the 343rd Battalion; entire platoons of men look to you every day for guidance. Your skills with a lightsaber are nearly unmatched AND you’re one of the most beautiful Jedi to have every roamed these halls.” He exasperates while flinging his arm to the door that leads to the halls.

“Padmé is a great person and I love her.” He says and my heart drops to the pit of my stomach. “As a friend.” He continues.

“But, do you know who I love as a lover? Who I love with all my heart and who I wish to spend the rest of my life with?”

I look at him with innocent doe eyes, soaking in his words like a sponge.

“You, (Y/N). You are my best friend and the love of my life. Do you know how many times I’ve stared your way as a Padawan? Countless times. Or how happy I was whenever we got paired for a mission? I was exhilarated. It’s the joy you get when your feelings for someone are so strong, you feel like you’ll explode. You’ve always had my heart and never known it.” He finishes, or so I thought.

“I love you, (Y/N).” He says, letting go of my hands to grab both sides of my face, “With all of my heart.” The tears that have been collecting at the corners of my eyes finally begin to fall; being told you are the love of someone’s life and that they love you with all their heart makes you emotional.

His hands make quick work of wiping away the tears that cascade down my face.

Once he’s done and the waterworks stop, he says, “You are NOT inferior to Padmé and you never will be. Understand?” with emphasis on ‘not’ and looks at me. I nod my head in comprehension.

“Good.” Anakin lays back and pulls me into his side; rubbing my arm with the calloused fingers of his left hand. I steady my breathing from the crying I just did and relax into him, sliding my right arm around his back to take residence on his waist. The room is settled in a comfortable silence; the only noises being the sound of our breathing.

“I love you too, by the way.” I say in a small voice, keeping my eyes down as my thumb strokes the skin on his waist. He turns is head and looks down at me with a smile and responds with two words:

“I know…”

[chloroformthelittleb4stard]

Family Relations - Part 4

Summary: Your criminology teacher is acting all kinds of weird, which is the norm, except for the part where his eyes glaze over and he tries to kill someone. Stiles, the hero he is, tries to stop your professor with little avail until he gets some unnoticeable help from you. Stiles seems to find himself with you at the location of multiple attacks, just barely making it out alive. Through the bloodshed feelings, family, and friends mix to create a perfect blend of chaos and calm.

T/CW: Blood, gore, like a lot of fucking gore, swearing, body horror?

A/N: Sorry this took so long, I hope it's worth it. This is a long chapter but because the first part is short I put a time skip in the middle of it, that's what the = means. P.S - Happy mother's day!

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

You'd convinced him to stay with you for the night because of what you were absolutely sure Allison and Scott's "after-pack-meeting" activities would include. It wasn't hard, as soon as you mentioned the prospect of Stiles' precious sleep being interrupted by their shenanigans he was on board with staying at yours. Your dorm had two beds, you'd been lucky and not gotten a roommate, a blessing and a curse really. You'd laid the sheets out and gotten your extra pillow, all ready for Stiles to get to sleep. The only problem was, Stiles wasn't particularly interested in sleep yet. You'd had a long day, mostly it was just that bout of magical fighting that wore you out but still, you were tired, and Stiles simply didn't want to be in silence.

"So, Y/n..." You'd been listening to the sound of Stiles fidget like mad, and you were wondering when he was going to snap and finally talk to you.

"Yes." Your tone was smooth and song-like. Despite needing sleep desperately you wanted to talk to Stiles, he was fun to talk to. You'd always been kind of a loner, it was easier to stay hidden that way, but you didn't need to hide with Stiles and it felt fucking amazing.

"What's D.C like?" He didn't look at you when he asked, staring straight up at the ceiling, but you were happy to stare at him, studying the moles on his cheek and the way his hair laid against the pillow.

"It's, interesting." He snorted, turning to you as you whipped your head away so you didn't get caught staring.

"Care to elaborate on that?" He had a dopey smile on his face, looking at your side profile like his life depended on it while he waited for you to respond. You felt his gaze burning your skin, it was a burn you could get used to.

"I don't know what you want me to say. Traffic's a bitch if you live in D.C, that's for sure. It took me half a hour to go eight miles from my house to school." He sucked in a breath at the statement, like simply hearing about traffic that bad was physically paining him.

"Good thing is if you live in the city you don't really need a car. My mom didn't have a car, neither did any of my babysitters, so we took the metro and the subway everywhere." He hummed, like the thought of the subway actually pleased him.

"I'm going to be in the city, that's for sure. FBI headquarters is on Pennsylvania ave." His muttering made you giggle, surprised that he knew so much about the landscape.

"You've been there before?" Your smile was wide from laughter and you didn't even care if you looked like an idiot, you were having fun.

"Yeah, once. I looked at going to George Washington so when I toured we stopped by. It's a really ugly building by the way, they should fix that." He was quirking a smile as well, glancing between you and the ceiling to try and look discreet.

"Yeah they should." You were trying to be quiet for the sake of your dorm mates but you were having trouble, Stiles was funny and it felt so good to laugh. You hadn't laughed like this in years, always too stressed to find anything amusing.

"So, what's is like rooming with Scott?" He made a vague hum of mediocrity, shrugging and leaving it at that.

"Care to elaborate on that?" You giggled using his words against him.

"It's good, we've been like brothers since we were little kids so it's really not that big of a difference. We spent a lot of time together at my house because my dad was gone a lot so living with him is kinda familiar." You felt a pang of sympathy when he said his dad was away, you thought back to your dad and how absent he'd been. The memories cut off almost as suddenly as they'd started.

"What about your mom?" He took a deep breath, he had a slight frown on his face and you knew immediately that you'd hit a nerve.

"She died, when I was a kid. She had a type of dementia and it, killed her." He was fully frowning now, and he was no longer fully with you, his eyes had glazed over and he was staring right through you. He shook his head and came back, frown gone and a small smile took its place.

"I'm sorry, both for what happened and that I brought it up."

"It's ok, it's been a long time and it brought me and my dad really close so it wasn't all bad." His silver lining was slim, slimmer than was arguably debatable to even count as a silver lining, but you didn't argue. He'd shared enough of his past with you, and you felt honored by the confession even if you did accidentally cause it to happen by asking. The fact that he shared something with you meant a lot.

"My mom died too, she was hit by a car when I was 13 and she died in surgery." The air was tense, but Stiles' expression and morphed from fake stability to real sympathy as your eyes locked and you tried to comfort each other without words. You fell asleep shortly after that, Stiles had stayed quiet for more than five minutes and that was all it took for sleep to wave its wand and take you under it's control.

==

Screams woke you up, screams from within your dorm. They woke Stiles up too and you both sprung to get re-dressed properly, rushing out the door as soon as you'd slipped your shoes on. The screaming was coming from down the hall and you already had a sinking feeling what had happened.

It wasn't uncommon for your fellow dorm dwellers to leave their doors open, it helped circulate cool air in the desert that was California. Being born and raised in D.C left you significantly more paranoid than most of them however, and so you decided you'd rather just suffer the heat than the possibility of getting robbed blind. You'd told some people in the common room at the beginning of the year about your fear and they'd all but laughed at you, saying that nothing like that happened here. You'd never wanted to have been so wrong in your life.

One door was already wide open, and blood was smeared on several other doors, also open. It seemed that the killer had gone down the hall, checking who decided it was too hot to save their lives. The first body was in the doorway of the room three doors up from yours. It was sprawled out on the floor and you and Stiles nodded, agreeing not to go into the room considering the carpet was currently soaking up the victim's blood. It seemed there were plenty of others anyways.

Room after room, one slaughtered college student after another left you feeling ill beyond belief. You didn't need to be told what had happened, you already knew. You had never actually had the chance to see what happened when the killer was finished with their dirty work, what they did to the people they used as instruments of mass murder. Sadly it seems you didn't have to go searching to find out. At the end of the hall was another body, this time with a knife in its hand, most likely from the kitchen in the common room. Its throat was cut, much like all the other victims.

The screaming had long stopped, you assumed it came from one of the other residents who peeked out into the hallway and saw what looked like a scene from an upcoming Scream 5. Stiles was bent over the body, examining what you assumed was its deadness.

"Whatcha looking at?" He gave you a vague noise of acknowledgment before standing up and looking at you with a face slightly paler than it was before he bent down.

"I think you should see this Y/n." You squatted down next to the corpse, examining its overall lack of life and raising an inquisitive eyebrow up at Stiles.

"Look in her throat, through the cut." You'd really planned not to come this close to a corpse in your life. What's that saying? Make a plan and the universe laughs.

The throat was indeed, mostly just bloody and disgusting, but also intriguing. The windpipe and both carotid arteries were slashed straight through, a feat that was essentially impossible to do for the normal non-possessed human. In the back of the windpipe, which you could just barely see through the cut, there was a small mark. You dug your phone out of your back pocket, almost dropping it with how much your hands were shaking, and turned your flashlight on to it's brightest setting so you could see the mark clearly.

It was a small symbol, lines and swirls within a small circle that struck you as soon as you saw it. With a soft thud your ass met the ground as your precarious balancing act failed and you fell from your squatting position.

"Are you ok?" Stiles' voice was lost as your brain went into panic mode, the new found information stirring up a whirlwind of anxiety.

"We need to get out of here. Like, right now." Scrambling up from the blood soaked floor you made your way back to your dorm room, dragging a confused Stiles behind you asking a million and one questions.

Without answering any of them you grabbed your nearest backpack and started destroying your dorm room in an attempt to gather all of your most important belongings, a mix of underwear, clothes, and books thrown into your worn backpack.

"Are you going to keep ignoring me or do I get an explanation for why we need to leave your dorm room? Y'know other than the murdered college students..."  Stiles had passed the stage of being thoroughly confused by you, that ship sailed when you fought off the vine that attacked you both. Now however, he was fed up with not having answers to the predicament you now found yourselves in.

"Can I explain it to you in the car? We need to leave ASAP."

"The car has a name, it's Roscoe." You rolled your eyes, of course he named his car, and of course now is the best possible moment to tell you.

"Less talking more walking please."

"Sorry." The keys jingled as he grabbed them and yours, tossing your purple keychain to you so you could lock up. You took the stairs two at a time, almost tripping over Stiles in your haste to get out of the building.

The car seats were cold when you got in but you couldn't be more awake than you already were, adrenaline and fear coursing through your blood, the symbol seemingly burned into the back of your eyelids, haunting you whenever you so much as blinked. Stiles booked it out of the parking lot, Roscoe's tires making an awful screeching noise as he turned while reversing, a move that would have scared you had there not been the max amount of fear already happening.

"So, explanation." He raised an expectant eyebrow at you, biting his tongue to let you answer before he spiraled into asking questions without enough time for you to answer them.

"Uh, do werewolves have symbols for different concepts, like danger and stuff?"

"Y-yeah they do, there's one for revenge it's a spiral. Why?" A spiral, of course the supernatural weren't creative when it came to symbol differences.

"Ok well witches do, it's called the witches' alphabet, it's a few symbols they mean stuff, the one we just saw in the corpse was the symbol for revenge. It's used to channel the chosen energy into whatever magic you cast." Your voice was shaking, the lack of oxygen in your system making you feel light headed, or maybe that was the endorphins, who knows.

"Ok, so what does that mean?" Stiles was shaking as well, not liking the sound of any more revenge business. He had to deal with this once before, he didn't want a repeat supernatural problem.

"It means that whoever cast the spell is one, vengeful, two, meeting the victims beforehand to get the symbol on them. This is bad, like, really bad." You had to actively sit on your hands to stop their fidgeting, the nervous energy bubbling inside your body like a volcano.

"Just what we need, a witch who wants vengeance. Was a normal evil witch not enough?!" Stiles' comment made you chuckle, the breathy act brought a twitch of a smile to his face, your happiness spreading to him in the midst of your crisis.

"Apparently not. Where are you going, the dorms are the opposite way."

"I don't know, I didn't want to take you back to Scott until I knew what was going on so I kind of just started driving around." Had you not been stressed beyond belief at the moment you would have been endeared by Stiles' care for his friend and roommate, but at the moment it was just irritating.

"You just drove us in the middle of the night down a street you have no idea where it leads? Really Stiles?! Take us to Scott, now." You were fuming but upon seeing the dejected look in Stiles' eyes at your harsh tone you were reminded as to how hard this entire situation must be for a normal human, werewolf pack member or not.

"Please. Could you please take us to Scott." Your manners had escaped you for a moment but with the regaining of your senses they came back.  A pang of guilt struck you at how mean you'd been to the brunette next to you. Reaching out for his hand which was resting on the stick-shift you hoped silently that he would accept your unspoken apology. He did accept, a blush rising to his cheeks at the skin-to-skin contact that you initiated and a smile creeping on his face.

Moments after your mutual flush and giddiness over the contact Stiles pulled up into the parking lot of his own dorm, the tar lit up just barely by a floodlight near the sidewalk. Unwinding his fingers from yours he was the first to get out of the car, you following shortly after, the cold air hitting your bare shoulders per your tank top which you just now realized was covered in blood.

Rushing to Stiles' side you wrapped your arms around your torso to try and cover the evidence of your dorm's activities, only to realize that your arms were the source of the problem. A mix of various people's blood was coating your arms, the red solution drying crusty on your skin. Thankfully it was the middle of the night, the darkness mostly covering your blood-stained everything.

Looking over at the mole-covered man next to you you took in the sight of him, surprisingly not covered entirely in blood. He had spots of it on his hoodie, only barely visible thanks to the floodlight, but he'd managed to stay clear of the mess, something you were currently jealous of. You wouldn't be able to take a shower until you were back in your own dorm and you were really dreading the idea of having to wash off both of your arms in the small dorm sinks.

Stiles opened the door for you and the heat influx from the building was a welcome change, the goosebumps immediately vacating your skin. You both headed up to his dorm in relative silence, trying not to wake his neighbors up. It was a harder feat than it should have been, given how often Stiles almost tripped on the single flight of stairs up to his shared room.

You could hear snoring coming from one of the beds, presumably Scott's, and the embarrassing situation you'd found your friend in made you momentarily forget your current predicament. In the darkness you could see two bodies in Scott's bed, the smaller one of which you assumed was Allison, tucked under her boyfriend's arm. They were sleeping so peacefully you almost felt bad to wake them, Stiles however, did not. With a loud enough greeting and the swift act of turning on all of the lights in their dorm, he woke his roommate and his roommate's girlfriend up with a startle.

"Stiles! They were sleeping!" You'd wanted to put up a semblance of good will with the woman you'd met less than 24 hours ago but in reality you were stifling a laugh, biting your tongue to keep from bursting out. The couple let out groans of protest at being woken up in the wee hours of the morning but got up eventually anyways, thankfully somewhat dressed after what you were still convinced their nightly activities consisted of.

"What the hell dude?" The were-wolf's voice was groggy from sleep and the rough scratch in his throat reminded you of Stiles' voice less than two hours ago when you were woken up by screaming neighbors.

"Sorry but you really can't be asleep right now, also yes that is blood on Y/n's, well everywhere, I will explain that in a minute. Allison could you help her clean up? Scott I need to talk to you." Nodding Allison took immediate heed to Stiles' request and looked carefully for a space to lead you that wasn't covered in blood before eventually deciding 'fuck it' and grabbing one of your slowly drying arms, washing the blood off of the area in the small sink.

There wasn't a lot of space in the dorm for a private conversation but you and Allison made small talk in an attempt to give the boys some facade of privacy.

"So, rough night I guess?" She let out a small chuckle at her own joke while you allowed a smile to creep onto your face at the problem you had earlier found yourself in.

"You could say that. Someone decided it'd be a good idea to murder a solid percentage of my floor mates so, y'know, the night could have gone better." She gasped at that, the light air of the conversation having gone as soon as you brought up the traumatic events that had occurred.

"Murder? Oh God. By 'a solid percentage' you mean how many people exactly?" Your mind flashed through the bodies you'd seen, counting at least six in the haze of the night.

"Six, maybe more. I don't know for sure, it was a lot. We found who did it though, kind of." You wished that you were dealing with a normal murder where finding who did the killing actually solved your problem. Sadly, that wasn't the case and the situation was getting more and more fraught in your mind the more you stressed about it, the images and circumstances pulling the strings in your mind so tightly they were beginning to fray.

"Are you ok?" Allison's eyes were kind and you noted in the back of your brain to thank Scott that he had such good taste in girlfriends.

"Yeah, I think so. I'm not hurt or anything, just a little shaken up." She nodded silently before going into nurse-mode and scanning your now-clean left arm.

"No scratches, all of this blood seems to be someone else's. I think most of the blood is other people's but I need to wash off the other arm to be sure."

"Be my guest, I wasn't feeling the whole blood-sleeve look anyways." You shrugged and let out a small giggle at your own joke, Allison following suit as she lathered up the ruined washcloth for another round of scrubbing.

You were in the process of cleaning the blood from underneath your fingernails when Stiles and Scott crept up behind you, interrupting the light bonding that you had started with Allison.

"Ok, we need to get out of here and go back home, right now." Scott took on more of a dominant personality when in charge and it made you glad that someone knew what to do, even if you didn't. You'd already grabbed spare clothes from your dorm room so you and Allison waited by the door nervously while Stiles and Scott scrambled to gather their most important belongings.

"Where is home?" You knew where you were from and where your home was, but you doubted that everyone would be game for catching a flight at almost 4 a.m.

"Beacon Hills, it's where we all met. Stiles and Scott are from there, so is most of the pack, I moved there sophomore year. The pack started in Beacon Hills, the town is like a beacon for the supernatural, it's probably the safest place to be because it's home territory, Scott's pack has been protecting it for years now."

"So Scott's the alpha?" It made sense given his natural leadership abilities and his friendliness, but it was still a little odd to see your friend as the strongest were-wolf out of the entire group you saw the other night.

"He's a true alpha too." You'd heard of true alphas, mostly by myth however, they were rare but the more you thought back on Scott's character the more it made sense. He was easily one of the most loyal people you'd met, and he was brave as well, fighting for people he didn't even know, or people he didn't know well. He was willing to risk his life to save the barista on the day of that attack, even willing to let her see him shift, it was only logical that he was a true alpha.

Your conversation was interrupted as it took all of five minutes for the two best friends to pack their things, swing the backpacks stuffed full of items over their shoulders before they led the way back down to the Jeep that was parked out front.

The ride was quiet and tense, Stiles in the front with you and Scott in the back with Allison, explaining the specifics of the situation that you had purposely left out because you didn't know how to explain it without making a joke out of it. Dark humor was quickly becoming your most solid coping mechanism for morbidity.

Scott went to protect Allison as she ran up to her dorm to grab her things as well, insisting that she tell her roommate she was going home so no one would file a missing person's report and make the entire situation more complicated.

She came back downstairs quickly, Scott in tow looking noticeably dazed as he held on to his girlfriend's hand when she plopped in the back of Stiles' Jeep. You let out a snort at what had most likely been a 'our lives are in danger' make out and let them have their secrecy as Stiles started up for what was the drive to Beacon Hills.