#i have way too much motivation so if i burn out like a forest fire yall know what happened

[gemsofgreece]

Hello! I apologize if this is bad timing, but is there any way a foreigner can help with the wildfires? Maybe there are charities or organizations handling current fires that could use donations or something of the kind?

Thank you, and you don't have to respond! I only approached you because you seem knowledgeable, you don't have to do the educational work :)

Thank you so much for considering donating / supporting those affected by the fires. For the time being, I wasn’t able to find any open charities addressed to foreign people. I will keep looking just in case. If any Greek here knows any valid organisation accepting donations for the wildfires from abroad, please tell us.

If you ask me, honestly the best thing you can do right now is that should it ever come up to a conversation or a post or anything, just spread the awareness that this problem has got so monstrous dimensions across the country due to human mistakes and mass arsons, a lot of which are suspected to have questionable motives (I mean, beyond the standard motive of being an evil person lighting a fire just for the sake of it). It is crucial to spread this awareness because most people outside of Greece and the Mediterranean believe this is exclusively due to climate change and that Greece now has totally unnatural temperatures that cause these fires. This is not the case. Climate change is a factor for sure but wildfires have been happening since at least the sixties anyway. Nevertheless, 90% of the tragedies in the last 10 - 20 years are due to human neglect or criminal activity and not the climate crisis and this criminal activity grows exponentially every year while the government either is not able or not willing to confront, let alone solve the problem. So, again, if you want to offer in some way, spread this knowledge if ever given the chance. Knowing the true problem, exposing it beyond the borders, is what can mayhaps put pressure on the authorities, because for the time being they are hiding behind the convenience of the climate crisis and they are like “boohoo there’s nothing we can do, nobody can defeat the pLaNet’s WRatH”. Remember, the extensive, uncontrolled arson only exacerbates and accelerates rapidly the effects of the climate change. But they try their best to gloss over this except for the times the arsonists are caught in the act, when they have no excuses. There are already studies showing that Greece’s climate is fast morphing to an Egyptian / North African climate due to the hundreds of thousands of hectares burned annually. Athens has lost more than one third of its forests in the last 7 years. The second largest island of the country, Euboea, lost 85% of its uniquely beautiful forests three years ago and it keeps being set on fire still. Last year a 1% of the freaking entirety of the country was burned. A fire has been burning a forested mountain in the north for 29 days nonstop and nobody bothered to try to put it out until it poured rain on it a few days ago.

I can’t speak for other countries but I believe part of the wildfire problem at least in Albania, Turkey, maybe less so even in Italy and Portugal and other countries are due to questionable motives associated with privatisation of environmentally protected land and investment. This is happening outside of the Mediterranean too. I believe this to be a problem extending way beyond Greece, however I think Greece is among if not the most notorious for these wildfire causations in Europe.

[justjams2003]

Can you write a dark!Thor fic, with fem!reader (Medieval AU), where the reader is taken as a slave, when her village was destroyed. I LOVE your writing so you can do whatever plot or theme you want :)whenever you can. I hope you're safe and I wish you a great day/night. xxx

Sweet Savagery

So... I loved this request so much! And it gave me so many ideas and motivation that I decided to make this a series! Hope you enjoy it!

Paring: Dark!Thor Odinson x Slave!Reader

Summary: All your life, Thor's blue eyes have haunted you. You believed you outran him, but now all your hopes come tumbling down.

Warnings: Death of loved ones, violence, nightmares, non-con, p in v, degradation. Tell me if I missed any.

Word count: 2k+, Unedited

1st Divider by: @firefly-graphics

2nd Divider by: @cafekitsune

Masterlist

Part 2

Are you cursed by the Gods? Or is it entirely only him? You were only just a small thing when it happened. The violently blue lightning striking down on your father’s wheat fields. You can remember it as though it was yesterday. Even after years of trying to forget.

When the dark consumes you, the light of the colossal fire takes over your mind. Your mama had scolded you just the same evening, pleading with you not to wander too far into the forest. Repeatedly saying that she wanted you home before sundown.

Like always, your mind floated into the sky, only to be vehemently struck down to earth, by that lightning bolt.

The one that started it all. Your little legs carried you as fast as you could, and still, the flames had engulfed the little farmhouse you had lived on for so long. The wall of fire had long since cleared any sign there ever was of your family’s only income. Leaving only a black streak of ash as it made its way further into the village.

If only you could’ve cried so much that it put out the fire. If only it didn’t burn down Aunty Cathy’s house, who was practically your second mother. Or the local baker’s house, who always gave you a free loaf, unable to resist your doe-eyes. Or even the blacksmith’s house, which you only saw on occasion. At least you knew him.

There are a lot of regrets surrounding that night. The most prevalent one is; not listening to your mother. The gods might have been merciful and have let you die with your parents. They might have spared you from looking into those blue eyes. The same shade of blue that caused this all.

The fire still roared; the moon was full and round; even the stars twinkled and yet those aggressively blue eyes lit up the dark of the night more than any of the previously mentioned. You remember the fear that surrounded you, praying to the gods you knew at the time, that those eyes weren’t searching for you in the night.

And you couldn’t help but wonder if the man with the eyes was the one to cause the lightning. Or maybe you were cursed by the gods. If they were laughing in their ivory towers at the cruel joke of a coincidence.

At that time, you thought that these deaths would be the worst of your worries. That those eyes wouldn’t surround every part of your fate. The gods did laugh.

Thieves found you hiding in the woods. They tied you up and used you as they saw fit. Only to grow tired of you, purely just because you became too old for them and sold you off to a slave trader. Which is where you find yourself now. Just barely clothed, waiting in the throne room.

Your bones are clattering and you’re unsure if it’s from the cold or utter fear. You’ve heard many stories of this deranged king. Crimes are punished harshly in a superfluous manner. The circles from which you’ve spent your formative years, the best thieves on the globe, could only speak in terrified tones.

And when they did, they spoke of a man who defies god’s creation. Some even mentioned that the fates and time itself dare not touch him. A king, with the stature of a giant, unmissable and unmistakable. The people who made other people shake in their boots, questioned if this king is just maybe an ancestor of the Titans.

Bred to raise an army and challenge the gods' thrones.

Judging by the extreme size of the throne, all rumours seem to be true. With each passing moment, your anxiety only grew. Until, finally, you can feel the vibrations through the floor. Slow and steady steps, no need to rush. Each of the slaves would stand there waiting for however long they are told to.

The doors open, again; slow. The men that enter are huge, yes, but none compare to him. The king, no doubt. Nevertheless, his size is the least of your worries. All you can see is that night flashing before your eyes once more, the same eyes.

What scares you most is that you haven’t made up his power, or just how much his eyes remind you of storms. His gaze follows from your far left until it finally lands on you. The storms in his eyes are steady, he remains stoic and unreadable.

The room stays silent. His gaze does not move from you, but he does. You can hear his throne creak, which now looks small in relation to former imaginations. Your eyes meet the floor and soon after his perfectly polished boots. He doesn’t dare look as silly as the other kings, with no tights and no pointy shoes.

His breath is heavy, you can’t help but fear breathing. He towers over you, and you can feel his gaze burning holes through your skull. Suddenly his hand grips you by the neck, forcing you to meet him face to face. At first, he seems to scan your body, what for, only the gods know.

Then finally his eyes meet yours. If he recognises you, he certainly doesn’t show it. He gives nothing away. At the same time, it feels like those blue eyes are burrowing themselves deeper into your mind. As if he’s saying, “Remember. Remember what I did? I fucking loved it.”

The king lets go and the second he does your shackles are undone. Maids shuffle all around you and the last you see of him is his blood-red cloak dragging across the floor.

You can hear the slave trader audibly sigh in relief. You can hear the few coins that your life and body was traded for being handed to him. That’s it, it seems. The end.

Once more, you feel barren. Exposed in the little amount of clothes you were given. This is his chambers? You wouldn't be able to tell it from any other room in the castle. To such a degree that you wouldn't be able to see a difference from any other bedroom in any other castle in the world. It's almost entirely empty.

There is no smell that lingers, no portraits, no trinkets. There is no soul. It's kept pristinely clean, so much so that you wouldn't even know a man of his size stays here. The bed, yes, is huge to match his stature, but the bedding is one you would expect from any other.

A sudden thump erupts in the room, this causes you to jump. His hammer, his weapon of choice hits the ground. The wooden floor is dented, in the spot you presume where the hammer is placed every night. Once again, he's quiet, yet somehow you know exactly what to do when he turns his back to you.

Your hurried, shuffling steps can be heard across the oak floor. Like the mouse running to the cat. You unclip his blood-red coat from his steel shoulder plates. Now, after the initial shock, you can truly take in all that is him.

His blonde luscious hair that falls just below his shoulder is kept loose. It’s covered in dirt and grime but still, somehow it looks like golden threads, each placed perfectly. You then unbuckle the mentioned shoulder plates. They each carry a heavy weight from their sheer size. You fold it all neatly together and place it by the cupboard next to the door.

The mighty king turns to you, and with one quick shrug, he throws off his shirt. Could he indeed be a giant? Was he made to overthrow the gods? Or perhaps he was made by the gods himself, made alluring and beautiful to gain the human's trust.

You've experienced the lies of beauty before. Beauty earns trust that years of friendship can't compare to. Just the same, it stabs you in the back. At least with beauty, there's a pretty sight while you bleed.

Heavy footsteps shake you from the past, his presence forcing you all the way with your knees against the bed. The king's hand engulfs your neck, all around. He's warm against your icy skin, your body leans against him, for the heat. At the same time your mind fights, fights the need to give in and want this.

The man in front of you bends his neck low, his nose grazing from your collarbone all the way to your ear. A sudden storm begins to rumble in his chest, shivers form up and down your body as he speaks his first words to you.

"I know who you are." A rash of emotions hits your mind. He knows. He knows. He knows. The words reply in your head. The little hope you had that he would use you as just another whore is defenestrated. His wrath is not limited by time and his grudge will not fall.

"I remember that night. How can I forget how your parents screamed?" It's as if he chuckled, but at the same time, it can be heard as a growl. Like that of a clap of thunder. "They begged and pleaded for me to save your life."

The cruel king takes the thin straps of your night dress and pushes them off your shoulders and onto the floor. The wind sweeps through the windows, cold air making your body perk up.

"I was merciful, was I not?" That same cold air clashes with his hot breath. Now comes the time to decide. Would it be worth it to run?

Is there a point? He-His hot tongue is pressed against the base of your neck. It follows the curve of your tendons all the way up to your lips. "Now you must pay the debt of your life." Those plump lips ghost against your own. -He will catch you. "Yes, my king."

He is not soft; you have decided so. The thoughts that swim behind those icy-blue eyes, those which the world cannot see, do not contain mercy.

Yet, somehow, his hands are soft on your upper arms. “You will learn to love it.” He furrows his brows ever so slightly. The corners of his mouth are pulled down, just barely. As though he is seeing your future, the future he will cause, and is somehow saddened by it.

As if he suddenly realises that he’s shown more than the rock wall around his heart, he twists you around and throws you on the bed. You can hear his bottoms hit the floor and know it’s started.

His hands are rough, and huge, surrounding all of your waist. And just like every other part of him, his cock is immense. And in one harsh stroke, he impales your insides. There is no possible way to hold back the gasp that escapes your lips.

Your hands grip the sheets and already, you can feel the tears form in your eyes. On top of all that, he grabs you by the shoulder and pulls you even further down on him.

Sweat beads down your back after many violent thrusts. Grunts escape from the man, but not another word. There is no halting the moans that free themselves from your body.

Not soon after you can feel his dick grow even bigger somehow. His legs pull himself closer to yours and the liquids between your bodies soon are joined by steaky loads of cum.

Everything rocks and shakes your body. Your legs are raw and littered with bruises from the brutal beat of bodies. There are red marks all over your back and an ache in your shoulder.

Exhaustion is heavy weight forcing you down onto the mattress. Fire burns between your legs when he pulls himself from you. He seems to lay you down gently, still on your stomach.

You can feel his hot breath on your back. In contrast to the earlier savage fuck, he places gentle kisses on your neck. His beard tickles your skin, and you can feel his long hair graze against you.

“Thor. You may call me Thor.” You furrow your brows but before you can protest, the giant man is gone. Not that it matters, fatigue has taken over you and like every time before the dark is filled with bright blue eyes.

[thewisaaaaad]

Ok, I forgot to talk about the Sins, even though they are a cornerstone of my AU. WHOOPS

So the sins: what are they? Well they are sentient manifestations of a specific flaw taken to the extremes. For instance, there is a vast difference between being proud of a job well done, and being proud of hurting someone else for fun.

Anyways, these were a byproduct of the creation of the world. they were meant to motivate mortals, but instead they got a little out of hand because there were no limits on them. So, the Celestial Beings (or Old Gods) had the crowns made as a countermeasure, and to ensure mortals sought them out for a cure to their sins, they gave the crowns power over natural phenomena, such as the moon, the sun, and yes, death.

However, the crowns are imperfect, as all things are. Though the gods were immune to sin growing in their own hearts, that didn't mean that it couldn't come from elsewhere. And once the crowns were passed on to mortals, the sin that had festered in life wasn't simply erased.

When the gods began to vanish in the lands outside the old faith, Sin ruled. People were twisted into monsters, even objects could be affected and turned into slavering beasts, and fear ruled. That is the land that Jalala comes from. There are no cults, there are no gods. Only hell on earth, or heaven to the sinful.

Now, I wanted to talk about WHY the crowns become infected with sin. This is because, as I stated, each crown is imperfect. each has a sin that it is vulnerable to. And these sins in no way reflect the will of their bearer.

For the green crown, the will of chaos and order, its weakness is Wrath. That Sin will turn the once lush forest of Darkwood into a toxic swamp, filled with all sorts of poisons, including whispers that drive those brave or foolhardy enough to remain to attack those that trust them.

For the yellow crown, the arbiter of feast and famine, its vulnerability lies with Gluttony. The Sin burns bright, seeking to consume the entirety of the fertile lands of Anura in its blaze. The empty husks of creatures not quick enough to flee wander the wasteland, a fire burning where their stomach once sat.

For the blue crown, master of plague and cure, it falls ill to Sloth. This Sin, rather predictably, doesn't do much, but its mere presence sends the balance into dissaray. Ice coats the surface of the ocean of Anchordeep, the sheet trapping the faithful within its walls. That same sheet drops pillars of ice flowing from the surface, freezing those unfortunate enough to not see it coming. Frozen corpses drift through the quiet city, searching for a warmth they can no longer call their own.

The purple crown, emblem of war and wisdom, it falls before Envy. This Sin has no real power of its own, driving its hunger for any scraps it can claim. It turns the caverns of Silkcradle into trap infested nests, the designs stolen from the memories of jealous hunters, the halls staffed by death machines crafted in the minds of long dead inventors who wished to do away with a rival. Arcing sparks of electricity light the rooms and bar doorways, taken from a god who long held envy in their own heart.

Greed was always here. Unlike their siblings, they saw the risk that was being taken and chose not to gamble. Loosing everything was simply too likely, and so they stayed in their lane, slowly coaxing mortals into achieving better results for higher rewards. They are NOTHING like their sibling, and only takes what is offered. They cling tightly to what they have earned, and will aid the new crown to see it stay that way.

Bloodlust does not have a realm. the only thing they leave behind is bony trees that bear fleshy fruits hanging from its bear branches, and those fruits seek only to water the roots with blood.

[firstofthenewguard]

Blood of Zeus Season 2 thoughts (There's alot of them)

I watched Blood of Zeus when it first came out in 2020 and the pandemic kept us trapped in our caves. I really liked the first season, mainly because it’s one of the few media outlets for Greek Mythology that isn’t wildly inaccurate, awkward, or just plain bad. It also set up a lot of interesting possible plotlines, and when the trailer for season 2 came out last month my hopes for those stories could not have been higher. I watched season 2 twice and… I have some notes (unfortunately)

First of All things I liked:

The entirety of episode 3

Hades and Persephone NOT being villains

Hades and Persephone being the only successful and functional couple in this show

The look of Hades’ Palace

ZAGREUS AND MELINOE!

The fact that Typhon is on a “He-who-shall-not-be-named” level and this time it actually has consequences

Other gods actually getting lines instead of just being backround characters on Olympus!

Hades using shadow teleportation, and using his bident like Mjolnir, only cooler

Other races in Hellas being acknowledged

More monsters; the Hydra being an ocean species is a very interesting take

Seraphim getting more development

Gaia and Hecate looked amazing

Problems with the Season:

Okay, a gripe I had with season 2 was Hades motive, and let me be clear I love the idea of Hades wanting to ascend the throne so Persephone wouldn't have to leave for 6 months, but to have him hate being in the Underworld seems like a stretch. In the myths, Hades knew the responsibility of ruling the dead and he did it with pride. It would have made more sense to have him hate being alone in the Underworld. They could've tied into the fact that Hades was the first to be swallowed by Kronos and was in his stomach alone for who knows how long.

Along with that, the season felt disjointed, like they were focusing on the wrong things, at the wrong time, for WAY too long. There were just some scenes that took up big chunks of the episodes and they didn't need to be that long, especially scenes with Heron. I know he's "The Main Character" but if you're going to make him that then please try to make his writing interesting enough for that much time to be devoted to his plot. I know that he's lost so much but his writing honestly felt clunky, it felt like he needed different scenes to make his choices more believeable. His dialouge also seemed stiff and I don't think his voice actor helped either.

We could've had a scene where Hades is talking to or doing something with Zag and/or Meli, showing how he's a better dad than Zeus, but we never got that.

If your going to give Hera a redemption arc GIVE HER A SCENE/EPISODE WHERE SHE CHANGES! Instead, the second she shows back up she's already redeemed? Really?

So, The Demon problem is just over? I don't remember them burning the giant flesh, and on that note where did Seraphim and the Demons move the giant flesh?

Ok, let me get this straight, they could've imprisioned the Giants' bodies in Tartarus the whole time?!

Also the giant problem felt like it was resolved way too early.

They didn't really focus on the open throne idea, yes the 3 trials were to decide the next king, but they needed scenes showing who the other Olympians thought should be in charge, show that scene about Ares rallying others to his side, maybe apollo did the same, or there could’ve still some loyal to Hera.

Minor: I loved Hestia but she looked WAY too young

Minor: Why are Horses just always the ones pulling the Gods' chariots, that's boring! I know most divine chariots are pulled horses in the myths, but for the love of mike be creative!

Minor: The giants guarding the hidden realm looked way to human.

Minor: They kept using the forest backround when they were in Tartarus, isn't the whole place on fire? I wanted to see some lava.

Minor: The other races that showed up for the funeral should've had varying respones to Zeus' death, like Hephaestus said.

The whole Eluesian Stone plotline seemed rushed and felt like it just came out of knowhere. The show said that Zeus drawing the stone from 3 others was how he became ruler of the Heavens, but wasn't the reason in season 1 being because he married Hera who was already queen of the Heavens?

Evios and Kofi didn't really get enough scenes for their characters to really do anything.

Alexia had the same problem she kind of just went along with Heron's whole thing this season, she didn't really do much except (sorta) talk to him.

They really should've brought all of Zeus' misdeeds to the trial, Prometheus especially.

[starryserenade]

Myth and Magic Ch. 6: Twilight

Fic Description: When Tir Na nÓg--the fabled land of the fae--falls to a dark power, the destinies of two young mice are set in motion. As each struggle to make their way in an ever-darkening world, they must learn to trust one another, or risk forever losing that which they hold most dear.

Chapter Description: Feverish dreams carry mysterious whispers, and magic spells start to unravel.

Commentary: Hi there! If you like what you read, please consider commenting, tagging, or even shooting me a message! I write mainly because I love to share my ideas about the characters with other fans, so it means a lot to me when I'm able to engage with others regarding those interests. Don't feel obligated, but know I'll always be grateful if you do. And to those of you who already do this, thank you so, so much <3

Links:

AO3

Prologue

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter

~~~

“ ‘Mm’okay…really…” Mickey hissed through gritted teeth, even as Minnie hauled him to his feet. Though his whole body was uncomfortably warm and his head pounded incessantly, it was his leg that felt like fire. Since the moment the net had snagged him in the forest, it had not stopped burning with a searing pain. There were moments of relief but it had only gotten worse over the course of the day, and it felt like it was spreading. 

Of course, he didn’t say this. He’d caused just about enough trouble for everyone today; the last thing he wanted to do was worry them more. Besides, even now as he struggled upstairs with his arm slung over Minnie’s shoulder, the pain was beginning to ebb. By the time Goofy had shown them the room and left them to their own devices, he was feeling well enough to dispute with Minnie the childish arrangements they’d been left with. Not well enough to win that argument, but he’d come to learn she was a fierce negotiator with that sweet, ringing chime that was her voice, so he doubted he’d have had the motivation to overcome her persuasions even if he’d been feeling perfectly healthy. 

He settled abashedly into the bed she’d made up for him and was surprised by the exhaustion that came crashing over him.  Minnie said something, and though he wasn’t sure what, he nodded anyway. Anything she said he was likely to end up agreeing with anyway, so he figured he might as well save himself the effort of arguing.

The rain outside sang with a steady rhythm with which his drowsiness grew, and it wasn’t long before his eyes grew too heavy for him to resist.

When he woke, he was surrounded by darkness.  The blankets Minnie had tucked him into were gone. The whole room was gone. A cold wind howled, ruffling through his fur. Chilled stone pressed against his back and with a start, he sat up, squinting through the dark as his eyes adjusted. Dim firelight flickered against dark, mossy walls, fading into endless shadow as it reached into a deep abyss just steps from where he rested. Mickey swallowed nervously, his injured leg pulsing with a searing heat that had begun to web its way through the rest of his body. The cold of the cavern did little to cool him down, and he felt he was entirely drenched in sweat.

“M-Minnie? Goofy?” he called out, his voice echoing against the walls of the chamber. There was no answer. No sign of them anywhere. Deep worry settled in the pit of his stomach. Were they okay? What had brought him here? Where am I? 

Chains rattled below. Mickey froze, holding his breath, and listened intently. A deep-throated growl rumbled from the abyss. It spoke no words, but he heard them in his head nonetheless, a gentler sound, but still powerful.

Mickey…

He didn’t respond. With every ounce of his being, he drew back his thoughts from the prying consciousness attempting to invade.  But he was, of course, unskilled in this area. The walls he’d clumsily tossed around his mind crumbled, and the voice pressed more intensely this time.

Mickey…

If he couldn’t escape the confines of his mind, he’d pick himself up and run. But when he moved to stand, his leg buckled and gave out from under him, sending him right back to the floor with a tiny yelp. It was then, as he moved to push himself up, that he noticed his hands. Silver veins that gleamed even in the dark sprawled along the back of his palm, slowly creeping towards his fingers. They burned, and he let out a pained gasp as the rest of his body flared in their wake. He quickly found that the searing web of silver had encompassed him entirely, each branch creeping up from his wounded leg.

As he drew in a deep and labored breath, the voice tried one, final time.

Mickey…

Knowing he could not run, nor escape the call, Mickey finally forced himself to answer. “Wh-who are ya? Show yerself!” he shouted, then grit his teeth against a wave of heat and pain. 

From the abyss, the sound of chains echoed across the walls. Mickey swallowed hard. An enormous silhouette appeared, climbing from the pit with claws the size of boulders. When it had risen, a scaled creature bigger than anything he’d ever seen stood before him. Its shape was obscured by smoke and shadow but he could see enough to watch as it lowered its massive head to him and opened its mouth to reveal rows of daggerlike teeth. It released a soft growl, and Mickey stiffened. 

Dragon.

He felt he should do something, say anything. But a feeling like awe had fallen over him, and he could do nothing but watch with wide eyes and a pounding heart.  As the smoke from its nostrils cleared, more of its features came into view. Its legs were bound with thick chains and the space around them seemed burned. The creature’s body glowed faintly, with a dull, golden light that seemed like it should have been brighter, and Mickey realized that what he’d thought were scales were far more featherlike in shape and spread. In the place where its eyes should have been, there was only darkness.

Caution abandoned him and Mickey reached out a gentle hand to press against the dragon’s muzzle. She rumbled softly and her body relaxed. Sympathy flooded Mickey'ss heart. Grand as this creature was, her majesty was faded and her heart wounded.

“What happened to you?” he breathed. There was no explaining what he felt, for it seemed to him that they’d met before. And the sight of her in so much pain was nearly too much for him to bear.  

His question was left unanswered. The dragon parted her jaws, and a single command echoed among the confines of the cavern. 

“ Come.”

Mickey shot up from the pillow, gasping for air as his dream faded into a fuzzy haze of a memory. A pulse of pain raced through him. With a labored breath, he collapsed again and glanced at his ungloved hand. Surely what he’d seen there before was only part of the nightmare. But no. Each silver thread still crept through him, leaving him utterly helpless. His body curled instinctively as the pain continued, shriveling against the growing strength of each pulse.

Minnie! He thought without really meaning to, clutching his chest and letting out a pained cry as another wave swept through him. He managed to open his eyes just enough to scan the faint silhouettes in the room. Of them, she was not one, and in a faint moment of clarity, his heart sank. It had been selfish to hope she’d stay. After years of confinement and solitude, she was finally free. Why would sh-

The thought trailed off without end. He cried out, feeling as though he’d been thrown into a pit of fire, and writhed endlessly in the heat. 

“Mickey!” 

The door flew open, and candlelight flooded the room. Mickey felt his heart might leap out of his chest as he heard the voice. In an instant, Minnie was by his side, and he managed to draw in a single deep breath as she grasped his hand. He wasn’t sure what to cherish more. The subtle relief of magic that swept his veins, or the simple fact that was her presence. 

“I’m so sorry!” she breathed. There was a certain elation in her voice that he couldn’t quite pinpoint, like a weight had been lifted from her. But the light was dulled by fear, and Mickey couldn’t help but feel responsible. “I was helping Goofy make up dinner for you, and I ju–” Her voice hitched, and Mickey stole a glance at her face. She peered at him with eyes wide, lips parted in paralyzed fear as she lifted the candlelight to him. “Mickey, what is this?” she whispered, voice trembling as she touched the silver veins running through his hands. 

“...Dunno…” was all he managed to speak, although he’d wanted to say more. It was difficult to croak even that much.

“I’ll go get Goofy!” she promised, but the moment Minnie drew her hand away, the pain immediately flared again. Mickey flinched, and a pitiful whimper escaped his lips. “Ngh…Min, please…” he gasped, reaching for her hand. Despite the fever, he had at least the sense to know something about her touch lessened the agony.  

She cast an uncertain look at the door frame, but Mickey’s pleas won her over. “I shouldn’t have left you for so long,” she whispered, then set the lamp down and took a seat on the bed. Gently, she took his hand and began to run her fingers across the places where the silvery poison had spread. Slowly, the flaming heat cooled, like a gentle river had come to put out the fire.

“Yeah,” Mickey managed to choke, and he summoned the closest thing to a mischievous grin he could manage. “Thought you’d left me for good.”

He’d meant it entirely as a joke, but it was enough to make Minnie freeze. She paused and looked down at her lap. Mickey swallowed. That single motion spoke volumes. Had she stayed for sheer pity? Fear? The idea that he might be keeping her from living in freedom was the worst thing he could imagine. “Minnie.” He squeezed her hand and she looked at him. His eyes were utterly focused on her, and dead serious. “Minnie, I’ve caused ya enough trouble already. Please don’t stay ‘cause of me. I’ll be alright.”

This was enough to warrant a reaction, apparently, though not the one Mickey expected. Instead, she wrinkled her nose and glared at him. “I’ve had just about enough of others deciding my fate! I’ll stay for whatever reason I’d like, thank you,” she snapped, looking down her nose. When Mickey stared back at her, confused by her rage, she sighed and softened her voice. “I’m sorry. It’s just…what kind of friend would I be if I left you like this? You helped me before. Now it’s my turn. This is my choice. Let me make it.”

Mickey bit his lip awkwardly and was quiet for a few moments, more than happy to grant that request, but worried he might upset her again either way. “Well…” he coughed at last. “I, uh…can’t argue with that, can I?” When she looked back at him, and he at her, they both shared a moment of quiet before bursting into a fit of gentle laughter. This was not the most comfortable thing for Mickey, given his current state, but he cherished it nonetheless. Minnie had a way of bounding so seamlessly from mood to mood that he couldn’t help but find humor in it. 

“No, I suppose you can’t,” Minnie grinned, a sweet, pleasant thing. “Seems we’re connected, after all.” She gently rolled up his sleeves, and with a sweep of her fingertips, the silver web across Mickey’s arm began to ebb. “Does that feel better?”

Mickey nodded. It did. And yet the moment she let go it flared up all over again. He yelped, grasping at his leg where the fire burned hottest. Minnie pulled back and brought a worried hand to her heart. 

“S-sorry!” Mickey hissed through bared his teeth.

“No, no, don’t apologize,” Minnie breathed. She shifted closer to the base of the bed and turned so that she could kneel beside him. “Is this where it hurts?” She moved his hand to the side, and placed hers where it had been. 

He felt her touch through the tear in the fabric, and knew immediately she’d found the source. He nodded, and gingerly, she rolled back the fabric until it bunched just below his knee. It took all he had not to whimper as it brushed up against his wound and shook him with another shock of searing pain. His vision was blurred but he squinted through it nonetheless, hoping to catch sight of what it was that had caused him so much trouble. Minnie pointed it out before he even had the chance to look.

“Oh, Mickey, you poor thing…” she breathed, and hovered over the wound. “How did that simple net do this? ” 

Sure enough, there was a deep red ring–something akin to a burn–where the net had snagged him. The silver branches stemmed from the wound, as if a metallic poison was still seeping through his veins. Minnie drew in a sharp breath and bit her lip, then seemed to whisper a prayer of sorts before laying her hand against it. Fire and ice shot through Mickey, and he dug his fingers into the blankets with a cry of pain. This was not the comfort he’d expected from her touch. With every pulse of relief came an equally strong wave of fire. The heat was so intense that Mickey almost lost consciousness all over again, and was forced to collapse back against the pillow, doing everything he could to keep still.

Minnie, too, was struggling. Her lips were pursed in concentration, brow dripping with sweat. A power flowed from her, yes, but she grew paler with every moment. Had Mickey seen this, he would have certainly kept her from continuing. But as it stood, he had squeezed his eyes shut and was completely unaware of anything except for the searing flames he felt rising within him.  He was about to plead for her to stop anyway, when with a final rush of riverlike cold, the intense heat dissolved into a gentle warmth.

He heard Minnie gasp, but didn’t have the strength to open his eyes and see why. He lay against the pillow for several long minutes, gulping in air as his fur dripped into the blankets around him. Finally, he blinked and rose slowly, still trembling. But the pain was gone and with a swift glance at his hands, he saw that the silver veins had disappeared entirely.

Then he saw Minnie.  She leaned breathlessly against the windowsill, her face deathly pale. In an instant, he had thrown the covers off himself and moved to her side. When she saw him, she smiled lightly. “I…didn’t know if that would work…” she gasped. “I’ve only tried it once before.” Though she was weak, her eyes twinkled with pride. 

Mickey breathed a shaky sigh of relief as she spoke. “Boy, did it,” he chuckled, and nudged her gently. “I feel right as rain.”

Rain. Mickey’s eyes fell to the window, where the raindrops had been sliding down since long before he’d entered the room. Only now, they acted differently. They clumped together, forming crystalline pools around the glass where Minnie rested her head. Strange, but it seemed almost as if they were trying to reach through to her.  

I was cursed…

Her words echoed in his head. She had come from the water, had nearly frozen as if her body was made of it. There was a reason she was tired. While heat could thaw the waters of a frozen lake, it could also send them evaporating into the air. She had used too much of her own strength to help ease his own inferno. 

Gently, Mickey slid off the bed, shaking his head to clear the dizziness that hit him as he stood. When he’d recovered, he tested his leg and, when it held, he grinned and turned back to Minnie. “Hey, Min, I need a breath of air. Care to join?”

Weakly, she lifted her head. “In this rain? You’ll catch a cold all over aga-” 

“Awe nah, you took care of that,” Mickey laughed, holding out his hand. “Come on. I’ll carry ya.”

She gave him a curious look, but she was either too tired to argue or, surprisingly, actually enjoyed the idea. With a delicate nod, she smiled and held out her hand. Mickey winked and scooped her up in his arms, laughing as she let out a tiny peep of surprise.

He felt ten times his old self as he rushed downstairs, Minnie clinging to his neck as he leapt down each step. When they reached the bottom, Goofy was there in the kitchen and gave them both a surprised look. “Gawrsh! Feelin’ better, are ya?” he laughed, and Mickey tossed him a cheerful nod. 

“Courtesy of miss mermaAA–” He felt Minnie pinch him, and he quickly corrected himself. “Minnie! Courtesy of Minnie!” Goofy chuckled and shook his head, and Mickey heard Minnie giggle in turn beside him. “Figured we’d go out and enjoy the rain! ‘Cos, y’know, we don’t get enough o’ that these days.”

“Oh, please! It was your idea!” Minnie hissed in his ear, but Mickey only laughed as he bounded outside. 

The rain came in torrents, as it had when they arrived, but it was a more pleasant temperature this time. Minnie drew in a deep breath as it soaked her fur, and perked up almost immediately. Even Mickey enjoyed the feeling of the fresh droplets, relishing the way they washed away the sweat and grime of his feverish ordeal.  He walked through the streets, Minnie snuggled against his chest, and thought the town itself seemed much brighter than the day just prior. Funny how a day is all it takes to turn the world around.

The sky still held a touch of afternoon light but this was swiftly fading, so Mickey found a twisted tree on the outskirts of town and helped Minnie sit beneath it. She whispered a 'thank you', and he grinned in reply as he sat beside her. While sunsets were not exactly stunning sights anymore, he figured it couldn’t hurt to hope for a good one this evening. 

Both were so exhausted by what the day had wrought that neither much wanted to discuss it. So they talked about silly things mostly, as they sat there beneath the rain-filled canopy. Like the sorts of food Minnie used to enjoy, and the most interesting places Mickey had come across in his years of travel. When they had talked for nearly an hour and the light of twilight was fast approaching, Mickey asked Minnie of the song she had been singing when they met. 

She looked at him silently for several moments, then at the sky. He thought he saw something like an idea spark behind her eyes, but didn’t have a clue what that could be. 

“I’ll sing it for you,” she murmured at last. And as the sunlight slipped away and the clouds above them parted to reveal a sky painted with blue, purple, orange, and pink, Minnie opened her mouth and began to sing. 

Twilight had come.

From a distant forest, a flash of green light burst across the sky. Minnie felt it. Neither of them saw it. A spell had been broken, and another cast. But for now, though wicked magic had just been freed, the two mice were hidden from its grasp. Enchantment shuddered across the village, carried through the air on wings of song. None knew but one. None knew but Minnie.

And even she didn’t know how briefly it would last. 

[avesomnia-inhoramortis]

Headcanons: Saint Trina and the other gods

Since I'm running with the idea that Saint Trina is a nascent outer god, I want to compile some ideas about how they interact.

Most of the outer gods have something to do with death/rebirth, and Trina is no different. I don't think the outer gods necessarily ally, but I don't think they particularly war either- they're some cross between basic natural forces and ideologies, with the instinct of a virus. They want to grow and propagate, and that semi-sentient instinct to expand and claim manifests as a kind of inhuman love. They hate very little, because little can actually threaten or oppose them. The Sword Saint's teachings are something of a rare exception, as is Marika's wanton war.

Though I suppose if I think about it, her tree just happened to be the most successful in the metaphorical forest and choke the other gods out.

I make a lot of comparisons to the Scorpion/Rot because I think Trina partially formed in reaction to it. Sleep was not a material/metaphysical concept before her, I think- she's the only one with any dominion over it, and the relevant imagery of swamps and flowers is very similar to Malenia in some ways. Plus, Trina is a part of Miquella, and Miquella's entire focus was healing Malenia, so. I imagine when Trina first developed, the first person she tried to soothe was Malenia. That was probably a fun revelation.

And it also brought Trina in direct conflict with the Rot, basically from the get-go. I doubt it likes her much.

Considering her whole motivation seems to be love and caretaking and hope and such, it makes sense that the next god she faces off with is Frenzy and its despair. I actually don't think Frenzy is a god though, the way the others are? It has no intent. Instead of being a singular thing, Frenzyflame is a hivemind of everyone who feels its despair. There are powerful individuals in the hivemind- Shabriri, the Three Fingers- but Frenzy itself is more of a collective, and that's why it's so hard to stamp out. There is no "head of the snake", just thousands of people firmly entrenched in so much nihilism they literally start burning. The hivemind knows who Trina is, but it's too chaotic to have a cohesive opinion of her. She's been chipping away at it, trying to pull some people away, but does that really affect the Frenzy as a whole in the grand scheme of things? They'll just keep making lords, and there will always be enough despair for kindling.

I actually think Trina and the Deathbirds get along pretty well, as much as they are capable of it. People come to her to ask for peaceful death, and that's very similar to the role Deathbirds play as psychopomps. There are always dead to ferry, and I don't think the Deathbirds or their followers really need to be territorial about that. She's probably tried to make friends with at least one, but I doubt she's met the Twinbird. I wouldn't mind trying to write that though.

I've written before a bit about my theories concerning the Fell God (which isn't a perfect name for it, but it's the one the fandom uses so it works), but just to have it here: I think Saint Trina tried to soothe the Last Giant at least once, and in return the Fell God showed her what she'd be like as a fully realized outer god of Sleep, supercharged her for a minute with fire. Unlike a lot of the other outer gods, the Fell God seems to explicitly be a god of creation. Granted, the same kind of creation that comes from meteor strikes and liquified rock, but still. It's a god of primordial, Promethean life, and might be one of the few who looks at a nascent god and tries to kickstart her potential. Especially if she's in the middle of doing it a favor.

It's hard to say if Trina and Eiglay would get along, but I think it's safe to assume Trina and Rykard do not. The Serpent's modern cult by the time of the game is extremely shaped by Rykard's history as an inquisitor and a Carian royal, with a lot of torture and a lot of wizard innovation. Trina definitely doesn't condone torture. Eiglay seemed to have a cult focused on human sacrifice before Rykard, perhaps something akin to the Aztecs? And I think it would be very hypocritical of Trina to object to that, considering what her own followers do. So: inconclusive. But she probably can't bloom on a volcano very well.

Trina avoids the Elden Beast, Marika, and by extension the Golden Order like the plague itself. One of her character motivations is protecting and supporting Miquella, and Miquella has made it crystal clear that she needs to hide so people don't try to take advantage of her/use her to get to him. They're both very sure Marika would take one look at her and Know. Trina has never tried to look at Marika's dreams, and even stays out of Leyndell itself, but she couldn't help braving it anyway when the merchants were shut away. She has no idea if Marika noticed, but there haven't been any consequences as of yet.

Godwyn's Deathbed Dream is something Trina can 100% feel on some eldritch sleep god wavelength. There are a lot of things sleeping under the Lands Between- the regal ancestors, the literal actual Scorpion, various star monsters, even the Nox and their extremely terrifying ability to imprison spirits. It's a bad time down there and generally too risky, but she could easily visit Fortissax and whatever's left of Godwyn. The deathroot doesn't really have a will or opinions, but it has that viral growth of a god, so something's certainly happening there. She loved Godwyn the way Miquella loved him, and I think she'd get along with Fortissax. She's tried to comfort Those Who Live In Death, in her own way, to mixed success.

I also think she could 100% befriend a Regal Ancestor, since they seem to exist in some kind of spirit-world or dream. She's a flower, they're basically trees, everyone involved likes caretaking and guiding spirits. I really like the theory that Trina's name in development was actually a pun on the word "tree", and so I'm going to use that in subtle ways. One of those ways is making her draw power from sacred trees to pull off any major magic in the waking world, especially since she's worried using incantations herself will tip off some astral Miquella hotline.

As for the Formless Mother? It's genuinely hard to say. Trina's main motivation to do anything is to provide comfort and rest. Since all she has to make that happen is deadly-strength Nyquil, that limits her options a bit, but it works. The Formless Mother's main motivation to do anything as far as I can tell is the spreading of wounds and blood. Not necessarily for torture or pain's sake, but just to have them exist as much as possible. Trina is kind of ideologically opposed to torture and pain, but she doesn't object to blood. She's fundamentally a healer and would rather soothe any wounds she finds, but gore itself isn't a problem. It could go either way.

[alatismeni-theitsa]

I understand your point as well and your frustration is justified. Definitely two different reactions when it comes to wildfire tragedy and the motivation of the state.

Fire came almost this close to my family house and I felt... nothing. (Actually I felt a pit in my stomach, a growing nothingness) I realized at that moment that the fate of my family house was in the hands of the state and I had no control over the situation. (The house's position didn't allow my family to protect it with water if it caught fire) And we all know how things usually go "in the hands of the state", judging by all the destruction we see every year.

Thankfully the fire was put out but the chances of it being put out in time were low and that's what has slightly traumatized me to this day. With so many homes burning for so many years - one being the house of the grandparents of a friend - I was thinking "why not my house, too?" Especially when that house was in a small town and neither the media or anyone else would give a crap about it and the state will probably feel less responsible to do something. And in a place where my family is ostracized because of mental and physical chronic illness (aka in addition to the state having disappointed me, I wlso feel that society / the people of this country already don't give a damn about me/my relatives)

In a way I see myself in this video. At that moment, no matter what I did from my side (eating, playing games, dancing), the outcome of that fire would be exactly the same for my house. It is a horror to live in a country that you know has low chances of helping you but when you're truly desperate you can go into a state that can look very uncaring on the outside.

One of Greek behaviors in the face of tragedy is keeping our head high and mocking destruction, poverty and death through music. I feel like singing and dancing was a way for those people to cope with the tragedy in a subconscious level. By hearing and dancing to a song about fire in that moment I don't feel that they mock the victims of the fire but they attempt to mock the fire itself and the whole phenomenon of wildfires. Some of them might've been in shock and perhaps they thought "I won't act afraid, I will be brave and stay here". Not a very clever thing to do but in such an emotional moment I don't expect too much rationality.

For sure the right thing to do the when fire approaches is to go somewhere safe. As for volunteering - please correct me if I'm wrong but - I believe it's best done after the fire. I wouldn't recommend going near a raging forest fire without proper training and without a coordinated team to have your back.

Would anything change for those animals and trees if those people weren't dancing? Since I wouldn't recommend for them to approach the raging fire, then nothing can be done for the trees and the animals at that moment anyway - at least by the people in the video. Or course this is a cold and calculated thing to say but I mean that it's all just optics and what the public expects to see. Sometimes shocked people don't look sad and distressed. Their reaction doesn't necessarily mean they don't care.

Even if they really didn't care... When people dance that close to a fire the phrase "they don't care" takes on a different meaning. They are obviously aware on how the wind can make their stage catch fire before they could reach their cars, and on how much death is happening behind them. (If not, I cannot blame them for their low IQ/genetics either) Their desensitisation - it feels to me - comes from constant exposure to tragedy, year after year.

Btw I used to live in a very seismogenic town and after the 10th small earthquake, each time my bed was moving by tremors up to 4 Richter was a relaxing thing - the human brain is weird.

In the case of fires the desensitisation is the symptom of a state that does nothing. For me, them not acknowledging the fire makes me shift the blame to the useless state. I'm thinking "look what they've done to us" and this actually makes me want to do more against wildfires. I don't know how to explain it but their stance feels like a protest to me, even if they don't mean it.

Of course these people were better off to a safe place or somewhere else, preparing to help fire victims in some way. Again, I'm not sure they could or should volunteer immediately due to possible lack of training. One risky person or a small risky team throwing buckets of water will do absolutely nothing. I mention "buckets of water" because that's what's available for the citizens most of the time. (I certainly know I couldn't bring a firefighter hose to my house at that moment) Fires like this need intervention from planes and I'm not sure that a water hose - in case citizens are given one - will do much.

From my point of view, politicians and rich people in general have not gotten moved so far by images of desperate citizens trying to put out a huge fire that is about to consume their house in the next few minutes. They're never moved by pity, only by fear and votes. The only way to make the politicians and the rich care is by throwing some fire on their side of the fence.

Plus, I refuse to perform a specific type of reaction when I fear that my house will burn just so a politician might shed a fake tear while drinking a Martini in their mansion - tbh that's the last thing I'm thinking of in that moment. That's not a jab on what you commented. It just concerns - again - the optics expected by the public.

Whoops I wrote a whole wall of text again...

I'd never take your commentary as picking up a fight, more so when it's clear we have the same goal. My reaction might be the cynical, bitter, disappointed type (one would say...salty 😂) but I will forever support those who push for proactiveness fueled by anger and shame about our shitty state.

4 days ago a fire started in the Greek island of Zakynthos but the locals continued dancing!

I don't understand the outcry on social media tbh. Ok sure these people are stupid for staying and not going to a safer place but the internet was acting like it was their fault as individuals for being desensitised to the sight of approaching fire.

Well what the fuck did you expect when half of Greece burns every fucking summer?? When we know there's nothing we can do once the fire starts because the state and powerful people are behind these fires??? We will see our houses burning anyway and there's nothing we can do, when even the firefighting department doesn't have enough resources to help. Let us at least have some fun in the meantime.

Our people being that desensitised to fires is not the problem. It's the symptom of a problem, get your focus fucking right, people!

[moss-c0uch]

someones reviews: castle of lies is kinda of f putting and there are themes of inc-

me, reading the story while dousing it in headcanons: actually most of the characters are poc and thelia parsifal and corene have a good familial relationship and percy is bi and thelia is demi and corene is-

[potatoes-is-are-food]

NEED NSFW HCS FOR DRIDER SHIGARAKI PLWEASE

Haven’t written anything in months but I’ve got a sliver of motivation and this ask really just made my day with the enthusiasm so here ya go <3 I wanted to add some cute stuff too so I did SFW and NSFW

~

Basically, you decided on the worst(read: best) day and time for a hike, having been talked into it by a couple friends and assured the trail wouldn’t be too harsh. When you stopped for a break, you went off into the trees away from the group to pee in a secluded area. The sun was high enough to give plenty of light, but the thick canopy of the forest left you in much darker light than your eyes were used to. You wrapped up your business quickly, nervous in the unfamiliar terrain, only to find that you couldn’t see the trail anymore. And it was steadily growing darker, much faster than a normal sunset.

~

SFW

- Drider Shiggy, much like normal Shiggy, has a very “I see it, I want it, it’s mine.” mentality. Only he has even less self control and no one to stop him.

- Naturally, he just used his ability to see perfectly in the dark and watched you stumble around for a while before he came in to “save” you.

- At first he just watches you. The way you stare up at him with big, terrified eyes and your shaking hands as you reach out to gingerly touch him the first time.

- You don’t speak the same language, but he knows just enough human words and behaviors to decipher important things. “yes,” “no,” crying, smiling, laughing, and a few others.

- Obviously, you eventually come to terms with the fact you’ll never be able to get away and you do kinda like him, so you accept it.

- He’s completely feral, but mostly he’s like a cute, exo-skeletoned cat. But over two feet taller than you and strong enough to rip you in half without exerting much effort.

- Extremely demanding. You will be forced to drop what you’re doing and snuggle him or do whatever else he wants at any given moment.

- He’s never had a mate before (female drider are dominant and it kinda scares him a little and he absolutely will never admit that) so he’s ecstatic to have someone, even if it’s hard to communicate at first.

- Every time he brings back stuff he’s’ killed for you he gets really chirpy and excited when you approve. He does not and will not ever understand why you’d burn it over fire before eating but he also can’t imagine you sucking all the blood out like he does, so he won’t judge.

- At night he sleeps on his back, the more spiderlike portion of his body curls up so he’s flat against the bed (a hammock made of silks) and he’ll have you lay on top of him, preferably straddling him for easy access in the morning.

- Sometimes he finds little presents to bring you. A fair amount of the time it’s a forgotten water bottle or some other garbage, but he just looks so happy and eager to please you can’t reject it. Occasionally he’ll bring you jewelry or a beautiful stone, though.

- His hair is long and he doesn’t take care of it, but if you sit behind him and tend to it and braid it for him it’ll be really silky and soft. He purrs a little at the contact and gentle attention, but if you try to call him on it he’ll pout and insist he doesn’t make such sounds.

- He’s not the best at actually making stuff with his silk, but he’ll give you as much as you want if you wanna make clothes or jewelry or anything else. And if he sees you making a lot of certain things, he’ll try to do it too and give it to you.

NSFW

- Drider don’t really go into heat or anything, but in the spring he gets excited a little more easily and any time he can smell your arousal it’ll send him into a frenzy. It’s not helped by the fact he touches you all the time, even just on the face or shoulder, but the contact sends shivers across your skin.

- The second you give him the green light to start having sex, be prepared to not walk much or leave the nest at all for weeks. He’ll pound you for hours, overstimulating himself until he’s sobbing but continuing anyway.

- He’ll still want to do it often after the initial haze, but he does calm down a lot. He gets overexcited most of the time, purring and drooling and filling you up over and over.

- He can and will use his webs to keep you still and tie you up into neat positions, vulnerably hanging like a ripe piece of fruit for him to devour.

- He’s overprotective, and if any of his drider friends come around and get too friendly he’s not above fucking you in front of them to prove a point.

- It’s not physically possible, but he will never stop trying to get you pregnant. He’s very convinced that if he fucks you enough eventually you’ll have a clutch of eggs and some little fluffy kids.

- He’ll shove his face between your legs and eat you out until you cry at regular intervals, but the idea of a blowjob is foreign to him until you wrap your lips around his leaking cock the first time. After that, he’ll want it pretty often and he’ll purr really loud if you kiss and lavish affection on it.

- After sex he gets more cuddly than usual and refuses to let you up from his embrace. He’ll lick you clean and if you’re insistent he’ll take you to a stream to actually bathe.

[ssahoodrathotchner]

Need You Here

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

Summary: You have a close call with an explosion

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: swearing, explosions, talk of injuries, canon-level case violence, basically just soft hurt/comfort idk there’s a happy ending sooooo

A/N: this is definitely a self-indulgent fic that’s been a wip for a while and by some miracle i found the motivation to finish it. enjoy :)

Masterlist

---

The stars are falling from the sky.

Air rushes back into your lungs in one unpleasant burst, and you choke on the bitter taste of smoke that accompanies each additional heave of your chest. Blinking rapidly, your vision sharpens and you realize that it’s not the stars that are falling, but bits of ash and debris falling through the smoke; it’s not nighttime. You hear nothing but the ringing in your ears, sounds muffled as if underwater. Slowly, painfully, you become aware of the pain radiating through your body stemming from a pressure on your midsection. Carefully turning your head to the side, your eyes find the remains of the small cabin which once held three girls captive. Where are they? Your vision clouds once more, smoke stinging its way down your throat and biting at your eyes, causing you to squeeze them shut. You can hear shouting, and you try to focus on what’s happening around you, but the sounds fade, and you follow.

You’re being pushed—pulled? —and suddenly the pressure on your chest lets up and you gasp, eyes flying open and struggling to focus. A dark head of hair looms above you, grasping your face with both hands. Emily? Her mouth is moving, but your mind isn’t processing sounds yet, and all you can do is let out pained noises that rumble through your throat before spilling out of your lips. Your head rolls to the side as Emily removes her hands from your face and places them on your torso. The small cabin is still on fire, but the flames have lessened. Your attention is drawn back to your own body with the addition of more hands pressing down on you. Morgan’s worried face peers down at you where Emily’s had been as you fully regain consciousness.

“Wha’…?” you manage to choke out before the overwhelming taste of smoke sends you coughing.

“Whoa, Princess, easy,” Derek says, stopping you from moving around as you try and turn to get a better look at your surroundings.

He smooths a hand over your forehead and you feel something smear along the same path his hand drags across. Blood.

“Where…?” your voice is rough, but stronger this time as you desperately hold Morgan’s gaze, trying to get answers.

“There was an explosion,” he says simply, but the furrow in his brow tells you there’s more than just ‘an explosion’ that’s nagging at him.

Emily comes back into view, a hard look on her face as she stares at something in the distance. She quickly glances down at you before speaking rapidly into her comms. You seem to have lost yours in the blast.

“…yeah, Hotch, we found her. She was under some debris from the house, but Morgan and I cleared that pretty fast. She’s still down, but none of her injuries seem to be too serious,” she squints at you to confirm. You nod.

Gently, you feel Derek’s hands pressing around your midsection over your Kevlar vest, and you hiss in pain once he reaches your ribs. With a frown, he pushes just a little harder, which makes you yelp in discomfort and glare at him. So much for not having serious injuries.

“Sorry, Princess, just checking. Seems like you’ve got some bruised ribs, although I’ve got a feeling more than a few of them are broken.”

“Lovely,” you grit out as Prentiss smiles apologetically at you, correcting her assessment over the comms. Sucking in a breath, you tilt your head down towards the rest of your body. “What else, Derek?”

“My guess is also a mild concussion,” to which you grunt in agreement “and a lot of superficial cuts and nicks,” he finishes, gesturing to your upper body and face.

You make a face. “Well, as long as that’s all,” you joke. “Help me up?”

Grasping your forearm with one hand, another on your back, Derek eases you upright until you’re sitting, ribs protesting the entire time.

You open your mouth to ask him more questions, but before you can make a sound Aaron comes flying around the corner of (what used to be) the house, a grim look on his face. Dropping to his knees by your side, he takes one of your hands and leans down to kiss your forehead, lips barely leaving your skin as he takes deep breaths.

“Thought I lost you, Sweetheart,” he whispers.

“Never,” you respond, squeezing his hand in yours.

“How’d you end up all the way over here?” he asks in a soft voice, sitting back to brush hair (and blood) from your hairline.

How did you end up here?

Your brow furrows and you direct your gaze away past Aaron and up towards the darkening sky, the first stars making themselves visible.

“The unsub—” you start.

“Warner. Ted Warner,” Aaron supplies.

“Right, Warner,” you let out a frustrated breath. “And the girls…?”

“Lucy Burnes, Allison Smythe, and Rowan Lucason. All nine years old,” Morgan chimes in.

“Warner was going to release one girl an hour to us as long as we stayed back from the cabin,” Emily says with a shake of her head.

You look back towards the remains of the cabin. So much for that. It’s starting to come back to you now.

Allison, running straight into your arms and you take a step back to absorb her impact on yourself and the Kevlar you’re wearing. You see a curtain twitch through the cabin window as you look over her head. She’s shaking and crying. You slowly move backwards and pass her off to JJ who then walks her over to where the medics are parked.

“We got Allison first,” you say, looking at the team above you for confirmation.

“That’s right, Sweetheart. She ran right to you,” Aaron says with an encouraging smile.

“Rowan was next,” Morgan states, his gaze lands somewhere in the distance. You know he’s reliving it along with you.

Rowan flying out of the cabin as if being chased, lands squarely in Morgan’s chest and he’s quick to wrap her in his arms and start walking towards the medics. You see Allison’s shoulders drop in relief before she pulls the blanket tighter around her shoulders and returns her gaze anxiously back to the house.

“She ran out like she was being chased by something,” you say softly.

“Or she was running to something,” Aaron says, equally as soft.

Safety.

“Then things got complicated,” Prentiss sighs.

Warner emerges, hobbling out of the cabin and dragging Lucy with him. He’s using her as a shield. They move backwards towards the woods as he shouts at everyone to stay back. You’re standing at the edge of the group of agents and officers, and in the fading light of the day, you do something you know you’ll get yelled at for later. Aaron and Rossi are engaging with Warner, trying to make him see reason, and you take your chance to slip off further to the side, easing yourself into the cover of the forest, gun drawn. Staying low, you make your way around the side of the cabin until you’re level with Warner and Lucy, separated only by the length of the small cabin. He’s getting more agitated, yelling and waving one of his arms and—there. A small remote gripped in his hand catches your attention. He raises it above his head, thumb hovering dangerously close to the buttons, and you don’t hesitate to raise your weapon and aim for his head; Lucy’s shorter than him, you’re unlikely to hit her. You pull the trigger as he clamps down on the remote. You watch Lucy twist away as he falls. No more than three seconds later, the cabin explodes. You’re thrown backwards and hit the ground hard.

“Lucy,” you breathe out, frantically looking around. “Where is she? Did she make it?”

Aaron attempts to stop you as you make a move to stand up, but you shoot him a look and he moves to help you with a huff. Supported by Morgan and Aaron, you manage to right yourself. Clenching your eyes shut, you breathe through the pain emanating from your ribcage. Oh yeah, definitely bruised if not broken. Once you’re standing, they don’t let go of you, carefully making sure you don’t collapse to the ground.

“Where is she?” you say impatiently, looking around.

“Safe,” it’s Emily who finally answers your question and you sigh in relief.

“Once she was free of Warner she took off running. She was thrown forward by the explosion, but kept moving,” Aaron says. “Morgan grabbed her and carried her the rest of the way.”

You turn to smile at Derek and he gives you a small one in return.

“And Warner?” you ask turning back to Aaron.

“Dead,” he responds in a curt tone.

You nod to yourself. “So, we got all of them.”

You take a tentative step forward, Aaron and Derek moving with you and you can see Emily in your peripheral vision keeping your slow pace.

“Yeah, Princess, we got them,” Morgan agrees. “But what you did was reckless and stupid,” he finishes.

“But—” you’re cut off by Aaron, who acts like you hadn’t started talking and instead stares straight ahead.

“Reid was the first to notice you were missing,” he says softly, and controlled in a way that relays the amount of emotion he’s holding back. “Once he alerted us, we realized none of us had seen you since Warner left the cabin. The cabin that had just exploded into flames.”

“It wasn’t until Allison mentioned you going into the woods that we put it together,” Emily says, only a tad bit louder than Aaron. “When I found you—” she pauses and sucks in a deep breath before continuing. “When I found you, I thought you were dead. You were half-under a piece of siding from the cabin and I couldn’t tell if you were breathing.”

Aaron’s hand tightens around yours. He didn’t know that.

“God, I’m sorry, Em,” you send her a weak smile.

“But you were breathing,” she says shakily. “You’re still breathing.”

Aaron says nothing, mouth pressed in a thin line, jaw tight.

You make it around the side of the still smoking house, and you’re immediately drawn to the sight of the rest of the team—Rossi, JJ, and Spencer, as they simultaneously take in your appearance with varying levels of relief and anger clouding their faces.

It’s a slow walk the rest of the way, and by the time you reach the medics, you’re gritting your teeth and focusing very hard on controlling your breathing. Gently, Morgan and Aaron deposit you on the back of the ambulance and you’re swarmed by medics in no time. The team gathers just outside the frenzy of activity going on around you, and you catch glimpses of them as you answer questions.

The medics remove your bulletproof vest and yes, your ribs hurt like a bitch. Spencer floats anxiously to Morgan’s side, asking him questions about where you were.

The antiseptic stings where it’s applied to the cuts on your face. JJ and Emily’s heads are close together, with Emily relaying everything to the blonde.

A bright light blinds you as a medic checks out your concussion. Aaron and Dave stand next to each other, arms crossed, silently watching.

Once the medics finish their evaluation, you’re told how lucky you are to only come away with a mild concussion, three broken ribs, the rest bruised, and shallow cuts that don’t (by some miracle) require stitches. Nothing that requires you to be immediately rushed to the hospital, seeing as the medics wrapped your ribs (although there really isn’t anything you can do for them besides try not to aggravate them further), cleaned the cuts (but you know there’s still blood on your face), and advised you to take it easy for the next few weeks (as if Aaron would let you do anything strenuous).

Yeah, you’re very lucky.

Aaron turns to leave once they’re done, moving back towards the three girls who are huddled together. Back to work. Derek and Rossi follow him. JJ and, to your surprise, Spencer give you short hugs before taking off after the boys. Emily shoots you a smile and pulls you to your feet, keeping an arm around your shoulders as the two of you slowly make your way to the rest of the team.

“You didn’t see him when he realized you had run off without anyone noticing,” she says quietly into your ear. “I thought he was going to run into the burning building to try and find you. I haven’t seen him lose his composure like that in the field before.”

Oh, Aaron.

Emily steps away from your side, and Allison gasps when she sees you, all but throwing off her blanket and barreling into you, closely followed by Lucy.

“You’re okay,” Allison whispers into your chest as you try not to give away how much your ribs hurt.

“Yeah,” you say softly, “Thank you for telling them where I went.”

You feel her nod against your chest and she squeezes tighter—ouch—for a second before letting go.

Lucy steps forward, shyly shifting from one foot to another. You give her a small, warm smile and she returns it.

The two girls go back to where Rowan is sitting in the back of an ambulance, and once their attention is sufficiently diverted, you grimace and hold a hand to your ribs. Oh, this is going to suck.

A hand on your back pulls you away from the ache in your torso, and you look up to see Aaron’s concerned face.

“Morgan, JJ, and Prentiss are accompanying the girls to the police station. Dave and Reid are staying here to wrap up with local PD, and we’re going back to the hotel.”

You know better than to argue with him at this point, so you just nod. Aaron guides you to a waiting SUV, and you thank him by squeezing his hand as he gently helps you settle in to the seat before buckling your seatbelt for you.

The drive back into town is quiet. You know he’s waiting until you get to the hotel room to talk to you—really talk to you. So, you give him the space and time he needs. You look out the window and watch the stars.

---

It’s when you’re in the hotel room and Aaron’s closed the door behind you that he deflates, sinking in on himself and pulling you with him until the both of you are sitting across from each other at the end of the bed.

You gently trace the lines of his palm until he takes a deep breath and begins to speak in a hushed voice.

“When Reid asked where you were,” he starts slowly, “and I couldn’t immediately see you, I thought the worst.” He looks at you, really looks at you. Desperately looks at you. “The building was on fire and Warner had told us not to get too close, so when he dropped and the place exploded with you nowhere in sight?” you squeeze his hand.

He takes a deep, shuddering breath and closes his eyes, trying to gain some sense of composure, and you let him, staying silent.

“…I thought you died. I thought he had placed explosives along some imaginary perimeter, and that you triggered them and that he blew up the cabin too. I thought you were gone.” Aaron’s shoulders start to shake as he tries to push through the sobs rumbling through him. “But the girls were still there, Morgan had just grabbed Lucy, and the local cops were trying to figure out how to deal with the explosion and all I could think was that I just lost you,” his voice breaks.

You lean forward and drag a hand through his hair as he drops his head, giving in to the tears. You move your hand to his cheek and tilt his head up so you can look him in the eyes, so he can look you in the eyes. Gently, you brush tears away with your thumb as they fall.

“I’m here, Love. And I’m so sorry for not telling you where I was going. You and Dave had Warner’s attention and he still had Lucy, and I just—” you try to find the right words. “I didn’t think about it, I just knew that I had to do something to try and save her.” You sigh. “And it almost got me killed,” you acknowledge in a whisper, as if that somehow makes it better. “But all three girls get to go home to their families tonight,” you say softly.

“But you almost didn’t,” he says. “Local PD were focused on the fire and explosion and the team was focused on you and the girls. Emily took off as soon as she could and Morgan followed her because I was caught up with the Chief of Police,” he says with so much venom you can’t help but snort; this particular Chief of Police had been a pain in the ass the entire case.

“And they found me. And then you found me,” you whisper, holding both his hands in yours, kissing his knuckles. “And here we are.”

“And here we are,” he echoes.

You tug him forward, moving your hands to his shoulders and gently catching his lips with your own. His hands cup your face with a fierceness that takes you by surprise, and he kisses back with a desperation that leaves you clinging to his broad frame. I’m here I’m here I’m here. He pulls back slightly, just enough to rest his lips on yours, eyes closed, as the two of you just exist with each other, nothing more. You move your hands to the back of his neck, playing with the hair there as his thumbs move slowly across your cheekbones.

“I love you, Aaron,” you breathe, letting your lips brush his with each syllable.

“I love you more, Sweetheart,” he whispers, softly pressing his lips to yours once, twice, three times.

You open your eyes with a sigh to find Aaron already looking at you. Moving further up the bed, he pulls you with him, laying down and gently maneuvering you until you’re half-across his chest. One of your arms resting under your cheek, over his heart, the other grasping at the fabric of the button-down he’s wearing. He has both his arms securely around you, mindful of your ribs, holding you against him as he rests his cheek on top of your head and intermittently presses kisses wherever he can reach.

In the contented silence, you let yourself relax. Your eyes drifting shut to the steady rhythm of Aaron’s heartbeat as he runs his hands up and down your arms. You know you should shower, that you smell like smoke and the forest floor and that there’s blood you need to wash off your face. You know that Aaron probably won’t let you out of his sight for the foreseeable future, and that he’ll keep you by his side during standoffs so you can’t do anything close to what you did today. You know that you love him, and he loves you.

So, for now, you rest against each other and allow yourselves the comfort of knowing that you survived another day.

--- 

Taglist: @rosesonmyheart

[imkylotrash]

Meet Me In The Hallway (3)

Pairing: Sky x reader

Summary: Stella is losing patience and when you follow Sky into the forest to find the Burned One, she lets part of your secret slip as a warning. 

Tagging: @grey-girl @intoanothermind @bitchwhytho @music-of-melody

Series Masterlist

“I thought I saw you leave Sky’s room and then I thought… That can’t be true. Y/N wouldn’t be stupid enough to do that when they know what I know.”

You really hate Stella. Slowly, you turn around to face her preparing yourself for the venomous smile she no doubt has plastered on her face. Barely anytime has gone by but you’re already getting very tired of having her threaten you.

“Silva is hurt. He needed someone to comfort him. That’s all.” You’re dog-tired wishing for a peaceful sleep but Stella has other plans.

“If Sky needs comforting, I will make sure he gets it. Not you.” It baffles you how she claims to care for him when all she does it look after her own needs. Frankly, you don’t care who gets to comfort him as long as he’s not alone. You’d give up just about anything to make sure he’s happy but Stella seems to think it’s him who should give up everything for her. 

“Are you really that selfish you’ll put your own happiness above his?” you dare ask tired of her games. 

“I’m going to give you one last chance to fix this,” she starts completely ignoring your question. 

“I have to stay away from him. I get it,” you interrupt her about to turn around and walk away when she stops you. 

“I want you to convince him to go on a date with me. He’s been too occupied sulking over you to show any interest in me. I want you to make him realise that I’m the obvious choice.” She must’ve lost her mind. For a whole minute you simply just stare at her taking her words in. She wants you to convince Sky to fall in love with her. In the middle of everything going on with Silva. Is she completely mental? 

“Did you hear me or do I need to repeat myself?” In an attempt to act unbothered, she checks her nails but you see right through her. All the insecurities and abandonment issues shine bright in the dark and you briefly pity her. Everyone has heard the rumours of her mother and the way she’s been treated, but you came from a horrible life too and you didn’t turn into a bitch. 

“I heard you.” 

“Great. You can tell him I’ll be waiting in my room.” She walks past you not even bothering to ask how Silva is doing. Despite your need for some proper sleep, you decide to head down to the greenhouse. Mr. Harvey is adding a fresh coat of the herb mix to Silva’s wounds. 

“Sky is sleeping,” you quickly say to easy Silva’s mind. He sits back down revealing the pain he’s in. 

“Can I help with anything?” you ask needing something to occupy your mind from what Stella asked of you. How can you focus on that when Silva could be dying? 

“Maybe you could cool me down again? It really helped me rest.” You oblige placing your hand on his forehead and channeling just the slightest magic into the palm of your hand. It’s an instant effect when the ice hits him. Slowly his skin returns to a normal shade rather than the hot red it was mere minutes ago. 

“Thank you,” he whispers lying down on the table again. It must be really bad if he’s so willing to show weakness. In the time you’ve known Silva, he’s never shown weakness about anything. You know it would be a different story if Sky were here though. He’d never want Sky to know just how much pain he’s in and you can’t blame him. It would crush Sky. 

“No problem. I can come back in a few hours to do it again?” You look to Mr. Harvey for signs whether that’s a good idea or not. He gives you a quick nod before continuing his work. You mean to head to your room but you spot a blonde boy who’s sneaking out the backdoor. 

“Are you kidding me?” With a sigh, you follow him outside realising that he’s heading straight for the forest. 

“Sky, where are you going?” you ask and the sound of your voice stops him dead in his tracks. 

“I’m going to find the Burned One that got Saul. I can’t just sit around and do nothing.” He’s not looking at you. Probably because he knows you’ll try to talk him out of it. 

“Please stay. Marco is out looking as we speak and I’m sure he’ll find it.” You’re desperate to keep him protected within the barrier but you’re always painfully aware of the fact that Sky is one of the most stubborn people you’ve ever met. You’re not sure you’ll be able to convince him especially now that you’re broken up. 

“I’m not waiting for someone else to save him. Saul is all I have left.” It’s a brutal reminder of what you took from him when you ended things and it tugs at your heartstrings just how badly you hurt him. 

“Then I’m coming with you.” If he’s going out there, you need to be there too. You’d never forgive yourself if something happened to him and you had the chance to stop it. 

“You’re not going with me,” he says as if he has any say at all. 

“If you’re going, I’m going. Package deal, remember?” It’s something you started saying after Riven kept commenting on the fact that you never went anywhere without each other and up until recently you never have. He doesn’t look pleased but he also doesn’t say no. He just hands you a small dagger for you to hold onto to. You grab hold of the water drops lying on the grass and freeze them before levitating them in the air. 

“I think I’m good.” He takes the dagger back without a word and proceeds to the forest. It’s a long trek but you don’t complain. You asked to be here and as much as you hate the uncomfortable silence that’s formed between the two of you, you’re glad you’re here. There’s no point in the search because it’s impossible to figure out what direction the Burned One headed but all you can do is keep a lookout and hope you get lucky. 

“Stop,” you whisper grabbing hold of his sleeve. He stops moving but you feel the shiver in his arm where your fingers grazed his skin. 

“Sorry,” you mumble letting go of him. A little further ahead, you see something move. Sky pulls out his sword and you channel your feelings ready to freeze it in place. It’s not the first time you and Sky has worked together, but it is the first time it’s been outside of training. 

“I freeze, you stab.” He nods hardly moving a muscle. You direct your power at the Burned One freezing every part of it to keep it from moving. You hold it in place feeling the fire inside of it trying to beat your ice but as you see Sky run towards it, you feel more motivated than ever to win. He stabs it right through its core and when you feel its resistance die out, you let go of control. It falls to the ground officially dead. 

“We did it,” you say out of breath. How you haven’t passed out from sleep deprivation yet is beyond you but it’s catching up to you now. 

“I’ll call Silva,” you say ignoring the need to fall asleep right here on the ground. It takes two rings before he picks up shouting about how irresponsible you are for taking off and hunting Burned Ones yourself. He doesn’t say thank you, but you know it’s hidden between the lines. 

“He’s definitely feeling better,” you say once he’s done giving both of you an earful. He demands you both return to school at once and now that you’ve killed the right one, you can oblige easily. 

“Thank you for coming with me,” Sky says on your way back.

“Of course. I know what Silva means to you.” This time the silence is comfortable almost as if nothing went wrong between the two of you. But Stella’s ultimatum is still weighing heavy on your mind. 

“Can I ask you to do something without any questions?” you ask him right before you reach the barrier. 

“What is it?” he asks but you need him to promise you before you tell him. You know he’ll never agree to it otherwise. 

“Promise me,” you say pausing just before the barrier. From here you can see the school and the students training out on the grass as if it’s just a normal day. But to them it probably is.

“I promise.” 

“I need you to take Stella on a date.” His glare might just pierce you from pure anger. 

“No questions. You promised!” He’s about to protest but stops himself. He’s a man of his word even if he hates it right now.

“Fine.” He starts walking leaving you behind. The second people spot you, they stare at you like you just arrived with the circus. 

“Is that them?”

“Do you think it’s true?” 

“Are we in danger?” Everyone is whispering and pointing fingers making you feel incredibly uncomfortable. You notice Musa not too far away and head over to her. 

“What’s going on?” Before she has a chance to tell you, a first year taps you on the shoulder. A bunch of girls are watching from afar making it obvious that the first year in front of you is here on a dare. 

“Is it true?” she asks continuously looking back at her friends. 

“Is what true?” you ask confused ignoring the sneaking suspicion you feel. 

“Is it true that you’re a changeling?” 

[ayuuria]

Yashahime Translation: Animage Magazine March 2021 Issue

Please do not repost this translation without my consent! This includes screenshots of any type and amount. If you wish to share this translation, simply link to this post.

For more information regarding the use of my translations, click here.

The Two Beast Kings

At his daughters’ crisis, Sesshōmaru makes his satisfied appearance! It appears he has some kind of connection with Kirinmaru but their intentions are still unclear. In what way will the two beast kings be involved in the fate of the Yashahimes?

While chasing Tōtetsu who is the last of the Four Perils, Towa, Setsuna, and Moroha finally confront Kirinmaru. The three of them are overwhelmed by Kirinmaru’s immense power. Saving the girls from a desperate situation was none other Sesshōmaru. The impact of the clash between the two great demons shook the earth and was put to an end in a moment. While Towa and others are left pondering what the relationship between Sesshōmaru and Kirinmaru is, they somehow managed to survive the fierce battle.

The spirit of the Tree of Ages considers Kirinmaru’s existence as one that should be killed. However, looking at his actions, they do not seem to be simply “evil”. Kirinmaru intended to defeat Towa, Setsuna, and Moroha as they were “the half-demons who would take his head”. However, he could’ve buried the three with one strike of his overwhelming strength. It appeared as though he was not taking the battle seriously in episode 18.

On the other end, although Sesshōmaru saved the girls from a crisis, it looked as though he was not truly hostile towards Kirinmaru. The meaning behind Kirinmaru’s words to Sesshōmaru “I will still have you work for me” puts a weight on one’s mind.

The relationship of the two beast kings who bare many mysteries. It might be a little longer before the full picture behind their motives becomes visible.

Character Bios

Sesshōmaru A proud, ruthless greater demon whose father is the Dog General. Towa and Setsuna’s father. (A man of) very few words, he does not show his thoughts for the most part.

Kirinmaru A beast king on par with the Dog General. He was in a long slumber but was awakened by his elder sister, Zero. Apparently, he’s trying to destroy this world to a degenerate state.

Jaken A small demon who serves under Sesshōmaru. Cowardly but helpful, he placed upon himself the role of child rearing and caretaker to Towa and Setsuna who had been taken from their mother not a moment after being born.

Rin Towa and Setsuna’s mother. She accompanied Sesshōmaru for a long time as a child and has faith in him. For some reason, she is currently sleeping within the Tree of Ages.

Higurashi Towa In order to save Setsuna who had her memories and dreams stolen, she searches for the Dream Butterfly. Her explosive power when Setsuna was driven to a corner was enough to leave a scratch on Kirinmaru.

Setsuna Even in the feudal era she sometimes plays the violin she borrowed from Mama Moe. The details on how she came to wield her favorite naginata, Kanemitsu no Tomoe, will become clear?

Moroha Although she is Inuyasha and Kagome’s daughter, in order to escape Kirinmaru, she was placed in the care of the wolf demon tribe in her early childhood. She carries the sword Kurikaramaru, which she received from her master, Yawaragi.

The Mystery Behind Sesshōmaru’s Actions

14 years ago, Sesshōmaru took a newborn Towa and Setsuna from Rin and sheltered them in the forest of the Tree of Ages in order to keep them away from Zero and Kirinmaru. However, 4 years after that when Zero burned the forest, Sesshōmaru tolerated her actions. The intentions behind what he is thinking is unreadable.

The Dream Butterfly and Rin

The Dream Butterfly steals Setsuna’s dreams and takes them to Rin who is sleeping within the Tree of Ages. It seems Kirinmaru has something to do with the actions of that Dream Butterfly. What is Kirinmaru’s “profound plan” regarding the Dream Butterfly that Konton of the Four Perils spoke of? And what is the reason behind Rin’s slumber?

Moroha’s Master

Yawaragi, the wolf demon who trained Moroha who was separated from her parents and raised by the wolf demon tribe. The of two them broke their ties 3 year ago but reunited due to Konton’s trap and fight each other as teacher and student. During that battle, Yawaragi explains to Moroha how to fight without becoming Beniyasha. Putting her life on the line, she bestows upon Moroha the grand technique “Crimson Backlash Wave”.

The One Who Will Defeat the Beast King

The prophecy the Shikon Jewel once told Kirinmaru was “(The one who will destroy Kirinmaru) will be one who is neither human nor demon and can impossibly traverse time”. He seems to think it refers to Towa, Setsuna, and Moroha but the difference in strength between the three of them and Kirinmaru is obvious. Presently, it would probably be difficult for the girls to defeat Kirinmaru.

Inheriting the World of “Inuyasha”, Director Satō Teruo

Following the “Inuyasha” Rule for Shot Divisions and Presentation

— Director Satō, please tell us first the details of how you became involved in this current work.

Satō: “Inuyasha” was the first work I took part in as a freelance producer and it also taught me the fundamentals of production. Afterwards, I was the assistant director for “Inuyasha The Final Act” and because of that, they reached out to me this time asking, “We’re going to make a work that inherits the world of “Inuyasha”. Would you be interested?”.

— As a work that inherits the world of “Inuyasha”, what points do you place importance on?

Satō: Among the viewers of this work, there will of course be those who watched “Inuyasha” but reversely, I think there will be those who come to know of “Inuyasha” through “Hanyō no Yashahime”. I intentionally created the work so that when these people reach the point of wondering “What kind of work is “Inuyasha”?”, they’ll get the same taste (as “Hanyō no Yashahime”).

There’s also a task for “Hanyō no Yashahime” to “Inform the generation that doesn’t know “Inuyasha” that there’s a wonderful work by Takahashi Rumiko-sensei called “Inuyasha”.” Just like “Great Detective Conan” that’s also on Yomiuri TV, families can enjoy (the work) together as parents become nostalgic and the children have a fresh feeling. From there, it would be great if the children are told “There’s a work called “Inuyasha”.”

For that reason, I felt that I wanted to depict the characters that were carried over from “Inuyasha” in a way that didn’t feel off as much as possible. The serialization for the original work “Inuyasha” ran for 12 years and the anime continued for 4½ years, so I think everyone has a complete image of each of the characters within themselves. I’m conscious of trying to stick to that set image people have of “This person was this kind of character.” as much as possible.

— Director Satō, you were directly in charge of the storyboard for episodes 1, 2, 4, and 6. What sort of things are you mindful of as you create the images?

Satō: In “Inuyasha”, there was something like an ““Inuyasha” rule” for shot divisions and presentation. I wanted “Hanyō no Yashahime” to inherit those rules. Episode 1 for the most part depicted “Inuyasha” since then so we couldn’t exactly break away from that rule. However, starting from episode 2, if we suddenly used a different shot division method that feels as though it’s from a different work, the viewers probably wouldn’t be able to follow along. Thus, in order to show that rule from the start, I did as much of the storyboard as I could myself.

— What kind of rule is it exactly?

Satō: For example, how Inuyasha releases the ���Wind Scar”. Also, I was frequently asked “Tessaiga is always written with dokkun (translator’s note: pulsing sound effect) but what is the “dokkun disposition”?” or “What is “mokomoko”?”. The pulsing Tessaiga does when it transforms is what we call the “dokkun disposition”. The “mokomoko” refers to the fluff that Sesshōmaru trails behind him. There are people who call the fluffy scarf worn during events like the coming-of-age ceremony “Sesshōmaru’s Mokomoko” and we call it “Mokomoko” at the production site too (laughs). Conversely, there are many people who give Setsuna’s mokomoko the same volume as Sesshomaru’s like in the “Inuyasha” era, and I remember at the beginning (animation character designer) Hishinuma Yoshihito-san was always correcting them like, “Please make hers more subdued than her father’s”.

— How do you do the shot divisions?

Satō: We use a sort of old-fashioned method of shot division that’s different from the current trend. Currently, there’s a lot of finely chopped, speedy shot divisions and while cutting battle scenes short is easier, we purposely make it one continuous shot so that the battle is endless. My thought process is that I want there to be traces of “Inuyasha” in that part of the screen.

Even the Effects Have Traces of the Parent Generation

— You spoke of Setsuna’s mokomoko but does she herself know of her father’s mokomoko?

Satō: I don’t think she knows. The clothes were probably given to her by her caretaker, Jaken, like “Let’s have you wear this” (laughs). Towa and Setsuna were named by Rin in episode 15 but they were babies, so they didn’t know. Probably while Jaken was in charge of educating them, he told them “You’re Towa and you’re Setsuna.”

— We heard that Moroha’s clothes is the same as Inuyasha’s “Robe of the Fire Rat”.

Satō: Yes. Just like the “Armor of the Iron Rat” that appeared in episode 16, it is made of fabric from the fire rat. Inuyasha himself is inside the black pearl and Moroha was left in the care of the wolf demon tribe, so Inuyasha couldn’t give the clothes to Moroha. However, I think the wolf demon tribe probably got their hands on something similar somewhere.

— What is the reason for Towa’s clothes being a school uniform?

Satō: It’s probably Towa’s own uniform for living in the feudal era (translators note: basically, it’s her way of dressing for the times). Her reason for dressing as a boy is because “It’s easier to fight in” after all, and it’s something I discussed with Takahashi Rumiko-sensei and (Series Composition) Sumisawa Katsuyuki-san many times. As to why we made her core like that. First, starting from her being a child that avoids the standard femininity, we came up with all sorts of thoughts like “Why not just give her an appearance with a Kyary Pamyu Pamyu like originality”. From within (those ideas), it was Takahashi Rumiko-sensei who came up with “It’s easier to fight in”. She said, “Rather than having a complex reason, wouldn’t a simple reason like this be easier to for the people watching to understand?”. That’s how Towa’s appearance and character were solidified.

— Towa’s weapon is also a little different. What she thought was the national treasure, Kikujyūmonji, was actually a fake, and she creates a blade with her demonic power at the part where it broke.

Satō: That part is probably also Sumisawa-san’s sense. Turning the broken sword into a demon sword. Even though she once obtained the real thing through Riku, the result was that she continued to wield the fake one. I think that part makes things more entertaining.

In a sense, “Inuyasha” was also a story about a sword’s growth. Inuyasha’s Tessaiga absorbs the demonic energy of demons it cuts and turns many techniques into its own. On the other hand, Sesshōmaru created the weapon, Bakusaiga, from within himself. Whether Setsuna inherited that or not is something to look forward to going ahead.

— How did you create the techniques for the three?

Satō: There are various techniques such as Setsuna’s “Scrouge of Swallows” and “Cyclone Burst” and Moroha’s “Crimson Dragon Wave”. The creation was basically Sumisawa-san coming up with the (kanji) characters and us coming up with how to portray them. We had the photographers match the shade and disposition of the effects to the parent generation and lineage. Towa and Setsuna have the same blue and green as Sesshōmaru and Moroha has the same yellow effect as Inuyasha’s “Wind Scar”.

We Want Towa and Everyone to be Happy

— Of the episodes that have aired thus far, which one in particular left an impression on you?

Satō: Episode 15 where Riku talked about the past. It was an episode that was related to the crux of the story and I think it was a crossroad of the past. The fact that it only appears as flashbacks to the three princesses who are the lead characters is characteristic. It was to the point that I was surprised on the day of the recording like “Oh, they’re not here!”. For this episode, we had Yamaguchi Kappei-san, the role of Inuyasha, do the commentary for the PR spotlight and it had an “Inuyasha” feel to it. Rin has grown-up a little bit but for her acting, we ordered that we “Want you to be conscious of childhood Rin” when addressing “Lord Sesshōmaru”.

— Episode 15 was also the episode that revealed Rin was the mother of Towa and Setsuna. What were you conscious of when depicting Sesshōmaru and Rin?

Satō: Regarding that, it was something I wondered about the most as an Inuyasha fan when my work in “Hanyō no Yashahime” was decided. Since Rumiko-sensei did not depict this, there were probably fans that had complicated feelings with how the relationship between the two is presented… In that sense, I’d say it’s best to make it so that the two can properly live together in happiness. How do I put it, it’d be hard to look at if things stay as they are.

— Director Satō, you yourself want everyone to be happy.

Satō: Correct. The moment “Inuyasha The Final Act” ended, I thought everyone would be happy, but it ended up like this… Based on the actions of the other characters, I would like to shape Sesshōmaru and Rin-chan’s afterwards in a way that everyone can agree to. Regarding Moroha, there’s the matter of when she will meet Inuyasha and Kagome. It would make me happy if you could pay attention to that part going forward.

— This month we published an illustration of Sesshōmaru and Kirinmaru (P. 42~). Director Satō, do you have any situations you would like to see in future copyright illustrations?

Satō: As a fan, I would like to see the parents and children sitting together. “Inuyasha, Kagome, and Moroha would be there and beside them would be Sesshōmaru, Rin, Towa, and Setsuna” like they had a family gathering at New Years. I think that kind of situation would be fun. However, in actuality I think that might be difficult as the dog brothers don’t get along (laughs).

— In episode 18, Sesshōmaru finally appeared before his daughters and that created major movement in the story. Please tell our excited readers some highlights going forward.

Satō: Episode 19 is a story where the demon slayers play an active, albeit not serious, role. You could say it’s a breather episode and it feels as though the tempo is completely different from episode 18. However, please enjoy it while relaxing (laughs). Following with episode 20, Shiori-san, the half-demon who appeared in “Inuyasha”, will make an appearance. It is an episode where she and Setsuna will interact. Sumisawa-san thought that in order to depict half-demons, this was something that couldn’t be left out and Inuyasha walked down this path as well. Then, the final chapter begins in episode 21. Things will move all at once. Zero, who started appearing in episode 14, will especially be a key person going into the final episode. Please pay attention to her relationship between Kirinmaru and Sesshōmaru.

Having Takechiyo Around Is A Big Help!

“Takechiyo is fun to move. As a therapeutic mascot character, just him being there is a big help and he has room for growth going forward. From the start, Takechiyo was born from “having a character that could be messed with in some way or another like Shippō” but he feels completely different. Also, with Fairouz Ai-san’s tenacious acting, he has grown into a very good character. Apparently, he’s a favorite of Sumisawa-san (laughs).” (Satō)

Sesshomaru’s on A Different Level! The Role of Sesshōmaru, Narita Ken

Episode 18 was his first appearance outside of flashbacks. The impression I got was that it’s as though Sesshōmaru thinks Kirinmaru is “Not an opponent worthy of my time”. That’s why I didn’t even insert a breath and imagined that “he could easily win this” during the scene where they crossed blades. I also checked with sound director Nagura Yasushi-san like “Would you like me to insert a breath?” but he said, “No need”. On the other hand, Kirinmaru was taking breaths so I really think Sesshōmaru is on a different level. Even my impression of Hosoya Yoshimasa-kun was… the level is not the same. Just kidding (laughs). Hosoya is quite adorable so it was fun doing (the scene) with him. What will become of the relationship between Sesshōmaru and Kirinmaru is something to look forward to going ahead.

Today’s Diary

This month we visited Sunrise’s studio #1. The selection begins in the conference room lined with plastic models of Sunrise’s works. Hishinuma-san, what do you think seeing all these works we have collected? **

“We created “Hanyō no Yashahime” with the intention of simply gearing it towards the children of today, but there’s a wide age range of contributors. From elementary schoolers to those in their 50s, I can really feel that the work is loved by everyone. It seems there are many people whose deep-rooted support for us stems back to the “Inuyasha” era.”

Which character is the easiest for you to draw?

“The one who’s easy to approach is Moroha. There’s a part of her that resembles her father (Inuyasha) so at first, I was conscious of copying (him). However, over time, I gained the ability to bring out her uniqueness.”

Who is the most popular on-site? (translator’s note: aka the studio)

“I’d have to say there’s a lot of staff who say, “I want to draw Moroha!”. When the plans were stood up, Towa and Setsuna were the two protagonists but Takahashi Rumiko-sensei’s design of Moroha was so appealing that the 3 of them became the main characters you see now. That’s why I want the on-site staff to love on Towa and Setsuna more! Especially for me, I want to continue to sympathize with Towa and watch over her growth with the emotions of a foster parent. Of course, the parent that gave birth to them is Rumiko-sensei.”

The main story is finally approaching its climax. Please show us your enthusiasm.

“My main job right now is designing and copyright illustrations but the staff are working hard towards the climax that will be at the end of March. The story development is going to be hardcore, but I would be really happy if you continued to support us. Look forward to it!”

 ** Back story: This month’s Animage held an art contest for Yashahime with the judge being animation character designer, Hishinuma Yoshihito. Also, this page has a “One point lesson” on how to draw the 3 girls. However, that one is heavily image reliant so I will not be translating it (I do not post scans as much as possible).

[sparklingchan]

Chapter 4|| Stormbringer- Stray Kids Demigod AU

Pairing : Reader(fem.) X Felix

Word count : 1.9k+

Warnings : Fight scenes, injuries but nothing too intense.

Genre : Romance, Demigod AU, fluff, angst.

Description: The day of the Capture the flag game arrives and there’s no denying that you and Felix make a wonderful team. Somewhere in the back of your head, you make a quiet note to have him by your side even when the real quests start.

A/N : Y’all I’m so bad at writing action scenes XDD I swear I’m trying to get better at it.

Enjoy!

SERIES MASTERLIST ||  Click here for introduction to the story and glossary and here for the Stray Kids demigod diaries!

Game mornings have always been your favorite.

Leaving out having to wake up early, you love everything else about game mornings; the little cheer song Apollo kids go about singing, the freshly cut fruits at breakfast which are otherwise a rare sight, camp students being all nice to each other which again is kind of rare, all the Satyrs moving here and there with banners and swords and arrows. The camp feels livelier than ever.

And to Felix, this sight is a complete different world. Almost like a pleasant dream.

Felix watches all the excited kids move around the camp, the jumping Satyr, the hearty breakfast and a new, foreign glow on your face as you sit across from him, explaining the game to him once again.

"Weren't you paying attention the first time?" You deadpan when he asks you to repeat, your front teeth nibbling against your lower lip in annoyance.

Felix smiles sheepishly and tilts his head with a shrug of his shoulders, as if to say 'Not really.'

You end up explaining it to him again because who could ever say no to that smile.

"So Capture the flag game is played in different ways by different Camps all around the world. As for Camp Levanter, we have a special set of rules that are to be followed."

"We're divided into two groups, which are further divided into smaller sub groups. Each group only has one purpose - to capture the flag that has been hidden at the Athena temple on the hill behind our camp. We can use dummy weapons to stop our opponents from getting to the flag first but we're not allowed to fatally hurt anyone or use our powers. Whoever gets to the flag first, wins. Do you understand now?"

Felix nods with a tense smile.

"I'm nervous, y/n." He later goes on to admit as Minho and Eden declare the beginning of the games and call over the participants near the starting line. You glance at him and he is fidgety, like a middle schooler going to his first date. He wears a loose black t-shirt with a pair of extra baggy pants and his fingers play with the blonde strands of his hair.

When he catches your gaze, he smiles ever so sweetly.

You look away.

You feel the adrenaline course through your own veins as you gently pat his shoulder, "We're gonna win this. Trust me."

The other participants soon gather at the starting line, the competitiveness very much distinct in their sharp glances and quiet snickers, a contrast to how it were this morning. You'd never been one to be nervous before and today, you feel more confident than you've ever felt before. You wonder if the boy standing beside you, with his fingers tight around the sharp wooden sword, has something to do with this sudden confident outburst.

"Alright. Everyone, get ready!" Minho grabs everyone's attention with his loud voice, "And.....GO!"

Eden blows the Horn and you turn to look at Felix, sending him a wink,

"We're winning this, Lee."

*

A few seconds into the game and you realise that Felix and you make a bloody wonderful team. He's good with the sword while you're good with the arrows, he has sharp senses while you have sharp reflexes.

Your opponents attack you at the most random, unexpected moment but the both of you happen to defeat everyone of them and move closer to the temple, climbing through the thick mountain forest.

"You know, I didn't think we'd make such a great team. " Felix admits, panting and wincing as a tree branch brushes past a bruise on his arm, "You're not that bad, eh?"

You manage to giggle just before an arrow wheezes past you, missing you by a single inch.

Your heart as if stops beating for a second.

"Shit! I thought we were leading!" You hiss, falling on the ground.

Felix gets ready to defend your vulnerable position, his sword raising in alarm.

While on the ground, you quickly grab an arrow and position your bow in the direction from which the opponents' arrow flew.

You hear crunching of leaves and branches and quiet whispering.

"They're here." Felix mutters.

The footsteps get closer and closer and before you know it, Felix is tackled aggressively onto the ground. You turn around and shoot your arrow, almost blinded by the suddenness of the situation.

"Goddamn it, Han Jisung!" Felix groans as he wrestles for dominance over Jisung, who is laughing almost maniacally.

"Jisung, I swear to-" you are about to get up and run towards the wrestling duo, but an arrow falls onto the ground, just near your feet.

Its your arrow.

"I underestimated you, y/n. You seem to be a pretty good archer." Changbin appears from behind one of the trees, a visible bruise on his cheek from where the blunt, rubber arrowhead must have hit him.

"And I, you." You respond, grabbing another arrow and stretching the string of your bow, "We're going to win this, Changbin. You might as well get going before I bruise your pretty face again."

Your words come from nowhere but a place of playfulness and competition, but Changbin's eyes turn dark.

You quickly run over to cover Felix, who seems to have gained dominance over a very tired Jisung, all of Jisung's arrows having fallen out of the case and onto the ground.

"I could say the same for you." Changbin approaches you, a wooden knife in one hand and a spear in the other.

He attacks and you dodge, smooth like a cat.

"Felix! Go! Get the flag!" You yell and hope Felix realises that Jisung is too tired to keep up a good fight, "Quick! Go now!"

Felix jumps from a panting, sweaty Jisung and runs towards the temple on top of the hill, his footsteps momentarily slowing down as he turns around to look at you, as if for reassurance.

You nod, "Go."

Your eyes turn to Changbin, who has his head tilted with a smirk on his face.

"I have always been a better runner than Felix, you know."

He tries to run past you but you grab the back of his shirt and drag him back, almost slipping in the process. Reflexively, he grabs your hand and forces his shirt out of your fist while you struggle to keep your feet flat on the ground.

Changbin is strong, you realise, extremely strong so when you try to throw in a punch, he dodges it easily.

Your brain is running wild now; your only motive being distracting Changbin from running after Felix.

"He won't go easy on you just because you've grown up together, you know." You say, almost mockingly as he tries to get out of your tight grip. You wonder if his shirt collar might tear because of it.

He scoffs, not bothering to answer but instead reaches for his wooden knife. And in the blink of an eye, the knife slashes across your forehead.

"Oh, God!" You groan, clutching the burning area on your forehead. Your body once again falls onto the ground, your vision extremely blurry.

With barely an eye open, you see Changbin run up the hill but you're quick to move and grab his feet such that he trips and falls down. You drag him down further, while he struggles to climb up.

Your heart beat is in your throat, your vision almost zero and your entire body is as if on fire. You pray to the Gods that Felix comes down the hill with the flag because in this state, you could only hold onto Changbin for so long. And not to mention Jisung who's slowly getting up with loud groans and complains falling out of his mouth.

As if on que, you hear footsteps hurrying down from up the hill and soon an enthusiastic voice follows,

"Y/n! We won!"

You wish to run up and hug the man but in your state, all you can do is let go of Changbin's leg and let out a sigh of relief, followed by a giggle.

"Told you, didn't I?"

* You often find yourself thanking the makers of Camp Levanter for making the Zeus cabin as far away from the others as possible that afternoon. It gives a much needed sense of privacy and the luxury of being able to choose when to socialize.

"I hope it doesn't leave a scar behind." You mutter to yourself, tending to your wounds on the verandah of your cabin.

You dip a cotton ball in an anti septic lotion and gently dab over your forehead, wincing when it stings.

"Need help?" You hear a heavy voice from near the staircase of the cabin and your heart jumps a little at his sight, "If you don't mind."

You run your eyes over the various purple and red marks on Felix's body and you pat the space next to you on the floor for him to come sit on.

"Your friend is dangerous." You remark when he settles down, flashing him your forehead wound.

He shrugs guiltily, "He's just a little aggressive, that's all. He'll come around."

Felix shifts in his seat and takes the cotton ball from your hand, silently volunteering to clean your forehead wound.

The sting is still very prominent, but Felix's other hand rubs comforting circles on your cheek to ease the pain.

"Minho told me that you met mom." He mutters after a few seconds, his lips turned down into a frown. Almost as if the news upset him.

"Yeah, I did." You admit as he applies an ointment and then fixes a bandaid over your wound.

"Have you never met-"

"No, I haven't. I don't know what she looks like or sounds like. My father never told me and she never bothered to show herself." Is he angry that his mother met you and not him?

You purse your lips, the sudden rise in tension making you uncomfortable.

"Hey, hey. I am not angry at you in particular." Ah, Aphrodite kids can feel auras. "I just wished she'd come to meet me as well. I don't know why she doesn't. " he mutters.

"Well," you start, "If it makes you feel any better, she did tell me that she wants you to go with us for a quest. Says its important for you to go."

Felix's eyes glimmer with a sense of relief. "Really?"

"Yes, of course and I'm sure she'll meet you soon." You reassure him, though you yourself weren't sure what Aphrodite might do. She isn't the most motherly entity, according to Hyunjin and the other Aphrodite kids.

"Do you want me to go the quest?"

You are applying the ointment on the bruise on his cheek when he decides to drop that question, catching you off guard.

"Why would my approval matter?" You ask.

"It matters." He almost whispers, "To me."

Heat races to your face at his unexpected yet sweet words. You know you shouldn't feel like this, you shouldn't get flustered because of a boy you met only a couple of days ago but under his unsettlingly calm gaze, you find yourself melting. Bit by bit.

"Okay, enough talk." You shake out of the trance, "Go to your cabin and rest. We leave tomorrow night. I hope you paid attention while Minho was explaining the quest or do I need to repeat it?"

Felix giggles, shaking his head, "I paid attention."

He jogs down the small stairs of your cabin and waves you goodbye, making his way to his cabin.

"And Felix,"

"Yes?"

I want you to come with me to the quest.

"Don't forget to have Ambrosia before bed. It'll help your wounds heal faster."

Oh, silly,silly, y/n!

[jokertrap-ran]

(光与夜之恋 Light and Night) Evan’s 6✩ Inspiration: Umbrae Secrets [繁荫秘语] Date Translation (END 2 + 3 + 4: Call Out)

“This is such a remote area. Were I to do anything, it would be nothing more than a piece of cake.”

*Light and Night Master-list | Evan’s Personal Masterlist *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Join the Light & Night Discord (＾▽＾)~ ♪ *This 6✩ Inspiration has 8 Endings!! *Reblogs and likes appreciated! *Evan’s tag will be #For Night, For Revolution *T/N: This card takes me out so quick I needed time to recover. Hunter and prey... MC triggered the Hunter... 

After pondering for a while, I finally decided to…

✥ Choice: Call Out [呼唤] ⊹Speak⊹

⊹ Ask Evan for his opinion ⊹

MC: Any bright ideas, Evan?

Evan: I'm thinking that maybe we can find a place to set up camp early…

Evan: Because you seem very eager to camp out.

MC: You got me. Let's go with that then!

❖☆———————————★❖

Evan was very experienced when it came to selecting a suitable campsite.

Eventually, we managed to find a fitting flat and cosy patch of grass that was both leeward and shaded, with a source of water nearby.

By the time we finished setting up the tent, the sky had already gradually darkened. The temperature of the forest quietly dropped as the occluding darkness surrounded us. But I had Evan with me, so there was no need to fear.

We lit the camp stove and roasted some food. The flickering firelight became the most dazzling thing in the forest, casting dancing shadows and lights all around. There was a certain romance to it.

For a moment, all I could hear was the crackling of fire and the soft chips and buzz of the insects nearby. It felt as if even time had come to a standstill.

❖☆———————————★❖

I inadvertently raised my head. The night sky above was adorned with stars, like fine scattered gemstones sewn onto an expanse of black velvet. Each and every one of them was equally lustrous, converging into a glimmering band of light and extending into the distance.

I watched the sky in a trance while lying on the grass. Evan sat quietly beside me

After a while, I tugged on his sleeve.

❖☆———————————★❖

MC: Look, the light of the stars only becomes much more apparent once all the lights have been extinguished.

MC: The grass smells good too, so why don’t you try lying down too?

He looked down at me with a smile and contemplated the idea. He finally agreed after a moment of hesitation.

Evan: Alright.

❖☆———————————★❖

He moved closer and laid down beside me. Now, another rhythm sounded in my ears: his gentle and steady breathing.

Evan: It is very beautiful.

MC: I feel like it's been a long time since I last saw a starry sky like this.

MC: No wonder those philosophers always liked looking up at the stars when they think. Now I understand why they would.

MC: The sight of an area this vast can make people forget all trivialities and let their thoughts wander further to the past and even the future.

Evan: So where has your mind flown off to now?

MC: Me? I’m thinking that since the forest is so beautiful, maybe I’ll go live in the forest next time, aha.

Then, a curious thought popped into my head.

MC: Right, Evan. Have you ever thought about where you’d like to live after having fulfilled all your goals?

❖☆———————————★❖

I waited for a long time, but Evan never replied.

Did he fall asleep?

I decided to gently call out to him…

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

⊹ E2: If you fail to call him ⊹

I’d called out to him multiple times in a row before he finally turned his head, looking slightly out of it.

Evan: Are you calling me? Sorry, I spaced out.

MC: Oh, no worries.

Evan smiled at me but didn’t say anything more.

Some people are made of mysteries. Perhaps this was simply a question he didn’t wish to answer now.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

⊹ E3: If you call him EVAN (陆沉) ⊹

Evan instantly snapped back to attention upon hearing me call out to him. He smiled apologetically.

Evan: Sorry. Your question's a little hard to answer. I lost track of myself thinking it through.

MC: Huh? Have you never imagined such things?

Evan: Hmm. That might be because the matters I always have on hand are more important, so I tend to focus all my attention on them.

MC: Right… I've been there and done that too.

MC: Back when I was schooling, I often found studying to be very dry and stressful.

MC: But, whenever I found myself unable to bear it anymore, I would fantasize about Summer Vacation and draw new motivation from it.

MC: Whenever I felt down or life got hard, I’d always dream about how much better life would be after I achieved my goals.

MC: Maybe you could think about it this way too?

Evan: After fulfilling my goal?

Evan: After that… I think nothing matters after that anymore.

His last sentence was so soft that it sounded as if he was mumbling to himself, and I wasn’t too sure if I’d actually heard him.

I turned to him in question, but he never answered, keeping so silent that it was almost as if he was one with the very ground.

I was starting to feel a little inexplicably worried when he then opened his mouth, as if the prior silence had never existed.

Evan: How about you tell me about it first? What’s your ideal life like? Maybe it’ll nudge me in the right direction.

MC: Hmm… Sometimes, I like lively Cities.

MC: But other times, I like someplace quiet; somewhere with mountains and water… I think that’s a pretty good place to live too...

MC: But there's no wifi there and I can’t eat my favourite ice cream… It’s a real pickle.

Evan: Perhaps what you like is change itself.

MC: Yeah… But some things will never change!

MC: Like, how I don't want to be too far from everyone.

MC: Without the people to share interesting things and breathtaking sceneries with, it'll certainly take the fun out of things.

His low chuckle sounded near my ear, close at hand.

Evan: I now know where I'd like to live next time.

MC: Where?

Evan: Somewhere not too far away from you. Would you welcome that?

MC: Of course I do. But, aren't you already here by me?

He turned his head over, watching me with a serious look as the light flickered at the bottom of his eyes.

My arm moved, inadvertently brushing against his cool skin, but also not shying away from it. He flipped his palm and encased my fingers within them.

Evan: You are correct.

Evan: To me, right now, life is perfectly fine as it is.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

⊹ E4: If you call him HUBBY (老公) ⊹

Evan shot me a slightly surprised look. Suddenly, the realization of what I'd just done washed over me.

Then, he shifted closer to me; so close that I didn't even dare turn my head.

Evan: Are you trying to hint at something by suddenly addressing me in this manner?

Evan: This is such a remote area. Were I to do anything, it would be nothing more than a piece of cake.

I inwardly froze. Evan was different from usual today… His warm breath brushed past my ear, inciting a continuous yet faint ticklish sensation.

MC: Hahaha… You wouldn't...

Evan: And why are you so sure that I wouldn't?

MC: You're always mindful and courteous. You aren't… that sort of person.

Evan: "That sort of person"? What sort of person?

He lifted his head in interest, looking down at me in a condescending manner. I was so embarrassed that I couldn't even get a sentence out right as the temperature of my cheeks rapidly shot up.

MC: That… That sort… Evan, stop making fun of me like that…

He narrowed his eyes into a smile, suddenly flipping himself over and balancing himself above me!

Rationally speaking, I knew deep down just what sort of person he was, but my body still ran on instinct: It sensed danger.

His broad form, usually reassuring, looked immeasurably intimidating from this angle. I couldn't help but bite my lip as my heart sped off the charts.

MC: Evan, what are you… doing…?

Evan: I'm thinking about your question.

Evan: You asked me what sort of place I'd like to live at, correct?

MC: Then… what does this have anything to do with that?

Evan: I feel like your eyes might hold the answer I seek.

MC: That's a lie and you know it…

My voice grew softer and softer because Evan was slowly lowering himself down.

Watching those dark red eyes of his that hid a glimpse of a smirk in its depths gradually draw closer, I panicked, stiffening up as my mind went completely blank...

I frantically swiped his glasses from the bridge of his nose, turning over to keep them away from him.

MC: Any more, and no glasses for you!

Evan paused, a little stunned at the sudden loss of his glasses. He then moved away with a smile, lying back down on the grass.

Evan: Did I scare you? I apologize. I just wanted to poke fun at you.

Evan: Sometimes you’ll bite off more than you can handle when you think someone too simple.

I inwardly breathed a sigh of relief before angrily puffing out my cheek.

MC: Okay, okay, you’re not simple! Even more so to keep your glasses away from you!

Evan: Then I’d better stick close to you and let you lead me around. Will that be alright?

Evan: Hm? (Y/n).

I turned my back on him and felt him gently place a hand on my shoulder. The heat swiftly passed through the thin fabric of my clothes, making me unwittingly shudder at the warmth.

I could even feel his eyes digging into me. The area where he burned holes into me with his eyes was hot, the grass underneath me was no different, and neither were the glasses I held in my hands.

I couldn’t form the words to answer him; all I could do was to hope that he couldn’t hear how fast my heart was racing.

❖☆———————————★❖

The next day, early morning. I woke up to the melodious singing of birds.

Evan was already awake, neatly dressed and sitting on the folded chair at the entrance, sipping on a cup of coffee.

Evan: Good morning. Sleep well last night?

MC: Brilliantly! I was so tired from walking so long yesterday that I fell asleep the moment my head met the pillow.

MC: Oh, right. It’ll take quite a long time to go back where we came, so let’s eat something, pack up, and leave as soon as possible!

Evan set his cup of coffee down,

Evan: Aren’t you forgetting something?

MC: Huh?

Evan: I recall you wanting to see bamboo piths, but we have yet to see any.

I froze, awkwardly laughing it off

That had originally been an excuse to get him outside and I’d totally forgotten about it.

MC: Hehe. I’m not that adamant about seeing bamboo piths.

MC: I only said that back then as an excuse to get you out so that you can relax.

MC: I heard that you had things rather rough before that so I was a little worried about you.

He looked slightly surprised. Then, he lowered his eyes, a warm smile catching onto the sides of his mouth.

Evan: So it was because of me.

Evan: Thank you for accompanying me here. I’m certainly much more relaxed now.

MC: But considering how you were previously… Are you really okay?

Evan: Yes. It’s probably not as bad as you’re thinking. I was just thinking about some old people and old things and felt a little glum about it.

Evan: I never thought that I’d end up alarming others.

MC: Why am I “others” now?

MC: Don’t bottle your troubles up to solve them yourself. You need to remember to share them with people close to you as well!

Evan: Okay. I will keep that in mind.

I still didn’t know what he was troubled by, but I suppose this was still within my expectations.

From my impression of him, he has always been strong. It was almost as if he was shouldering a mission that no one knew about, walking down a similarly obscured path.

After finishing breakfast, we packed and prepared to leave the forest.

We idly chatted with each other along the way until suddenly, Evan stopped short while we were passing through an area.

Following his gaze, I saw a unique-looking umbrella-shaped thing growing within the shrubbery’s shade.

Evan: See? We still managed to chance upon it.

MC: Wow, are all of these bamboo piths?

We walked over together, squatting beside the small white fungi.

It had a small black cap and had grown out a long white mesh skirt.

This was the first time I ever saw a bamboo pith growing in the soil. I widened my eyes in surprise, unwilling to blink as I drank in the sight. After observing it for a while, I finally raised a finger, reaching out to touch its “skirt”.

MC: It’s so wet and soft-looking! It’s adorable! Have you seen it before, Evan?

MC: I can’t believe you managed to recognize it at a glance!

Evan: Yes. It was back during the first time I’d been driven into the forest as a child.

Evan: I witnessed the law of the jungle and escaped from the jaws of death of a snake. I felt like the forest was a place filled with danger and wanted nothing but to leave the place the faster, the better.

Evan: Then, just as I was hungry and exhausted, I saw a bamboo pith.

Evan: At that time, I didn’t know what it was and if it was actually poisonous.

Evan: Deep in the throes of despair, I thought “why not just take it, eat it, and see what my fate turns out to be”?

MC: Evan…

Evan: But guess what I saw while I was hesitating?

Evan: I saw it growing its fungus skirt. All it took was a little effort on its part, and its little skirt grew longer and longer.

Evan: I stared at it blankly, in a daze. I didn’t even notice that my legs had gone numb from how long I’d stared at it.

He retracted himself from his memory palace, turning around to face me with a smile.

Evan: It was as simple as a little young lady, capable of encouraging me with its adorability and enchantments.

Evan: It made me understand that forest, in all its gloom and doom, still has its own little interesting spots.

Evan: And that one is only capable of seeing it by living on, don’t you think?

His expression was quiet, but within those calm eyes of his, I could see that little boy who’d struggled his hardest to remain strong. I felt my heart constrict slightly at that and moved to hold his hand tightly in my own.

MC: Evan, that’s all in the past. You’re no longer that helpless little boy.

Evan: No, I’m fine.

Evan: I might have forgotten even this if we hadn’t seen the bamboo piths today.

Evan: It feels a little unbelievable when I think back on it now. It was a memory plagued by darkness, yet it still held its own beautiful moments.

I felt a pang of sorrow creep into my heart. Words of comfort were right at the tip of my tongue, yet I felt like they’d be completely helpless.

This man before me, strong as a warrior; someone who’d been forced to face life-or-death decisions from a very young age… Maybe he wasn’t as complicated as I initially thought he was.

There are many reasons why one would choose death, but to choose life? The reason was simple; just a little spark was required, and Evan was no exception.

MC: I forgot who said it, but someone once said that the meaning of existence that people spend their entire lives seeking out is actually hidden in the simple things.

MC: Evan, won’t you say that you might end up thinking similarly as well one day?

MC: You might not be able to find it immediately, but that’s fine. I will accompany you in your search for it, no matter how long it takes.

Evan fixed me with a profound look before stretching out his hand and reverently crossing it over my own.

Evan: Alright. Together we shall be.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

✥ Choose your Ending:

END 1 | Choice: Do Nothing [都不做]

END 2 +3 + 4 | Choice: Call Out [呼唤] ⊹Speak⊹

END 4 + 6 | Choice: Approach [亲近] ⊹Touch⊹

END 7 + 8 | Choice: Heart-throb [心动] ☆Light & Night★

❖☆————— ⊹ For Night, For Revolution⊹ —————★❖

Previous Part: (Prologue)

[duskwood-legacies]

"Your Armageddon"

•Fandom: Duskwood

⚠️->Episodes 5-8 Spoiler!

•Pairing/Character: MC, MWAF (Micheal)

•Word Count: 1.1k

•Genre: Angst

•Trigger Warnings: brief mention of blood and self-hatred, mentions of death

•Summary: MC stands face to face with the place responsible for the legend that calls itself the avenger of sins. Turns out, she was just the final pawn in the MWAF’s wicked game.

-----

Fog strangled the forests of Duskwood in a thick grey, forbidding to let anyone gaze farther than their arms could reach. Wind forced branches to collide, wind that soon swirled into a cruel storm to leave nothing but heartless destruction in its path.

As the world seemed to be taken away by Armageddon, I stood with my feet like rooted to the ground. The raven carved into the wood was almost shielded from my vision. Almost.

“Our origin. It lies here.” A raspy, sand-paper like voice taunted my mind from behind. The unnerving sound chased the hairs on my arms and neck upwards, nausea creeping into my throat.

“Is that why you brought me here, Micheal?” My own heartbeat nearly deafened me.

“Do not call me by my name.”

I shivered as I captured the calm tone inside his words. People possessing such calmness within such madness. They were dangerous. By far beyond dangerous. Rain crashed down like cascades, perfecting the chaos menacing around us, flooding homes of animals and drowning out hopes.

“We are one.” Micheal spoke.

“We…?”

“We. Every Man Without A Face before me, every Man Without A Face to follow after me. We share the same memories of your sins, we share the same curse.” Micheal’s voice darkened with each word spoken.

“But— But this is just a legend-“

“Naive girl.” His calmness began to fade away into the depths of hatred.  “We are bound to this universe. We are the avengers for your sins. We are the justice. We are the misunderstood!”

I winced at the sudden loudening of his words. My veins pulsated with hot blood run cold, thoughts going numb with each passing dulled second. My airways tightened with an invisible rope swung around my neck.

“Ask MC.” Micheal’s voice bore into me “Ask. Ask! Ask what’s been haunting you!”

“Why?!” I shouted “Why Hannah?! Why Richy?! Why YOU?!”

I couldn’t see him, but I knew, I felt it. The sickening grin of success, securely hidden under his mask burned on my back, ill sensations diving into my spine.

“Jennifer!” Micheal pressed out, pained inside his neglected soul, relieved to say her name again. “Her death brought this curse upon me! Hannah and Richy watched her life cease from this world! They left her to die, allowed her murderer to run free!”

“They were only kids!” My shout matched a screech.

“Death knows no age!” A tree crashed into the ground behind us. The ominous loud thump hunted ravens out of their shelter, towards the one and only person their loyalty belongs to. My arms flung up and crossed in front of my head to protect my face. Micheal’s furious voice kept burning its way into my brain.

“Her death tore my life apart! Her death allowed the curse to seep into my cracked soul!”

“How is that possible?” I tried to mask my fright with half-hearted compassion.

“You don’t understand?! We were emotionally bound the strongest to those who fell victim to the cruelest of sins! We avenge our loved ones and protect those who can’t protect themselves!”

“By robbing lives?! You are committing sins yourself!”

“That is why we are the victims of our successors. This curse is Duskwood’s hell circle.”

Tears edged my eyes. Memories I couldn’t repress longer found their way back to torture my consciousness. The storm howled louder as the trees whipped into all directions with immeasurable violence. My knees started to feel light under the hectic of the unforgiving insanity those gone-by moments brought back to me.

“Do you feel the sting? The burn? The pain under your skin?” Micheal’s voice mixed psychopathy and lunacy as well as calmness and peace. With a weak spark of agitated success. “Do you hear their voices? Do you see their faces pleading you for help? Do you run from the guilt your sins have brought you? Do you see what monster you encouraged me to become?”

Thunder boomed through the fighting trees. I cried out in despair, broke under the suspense and agony he put me under as I bailed down onto my knees. My hands covered my ears, praying I’d somehow be able to shut his voice out before they reach my brain.

The sweet feelings of his achievement soothed Micheal’s wrath. His mind cleared as he saw his goal unfold in front of him like a dahlia in July.

The sound of branches breaking mixed with the loudness of rain, storm and thunder, becoming clearer and clearer the more Micheal stalked closer to me. I clutched my hands around my ears, with an intensity strong enough to make me hurt myself.

Micheal crouched down behind me. One of his hands grabbed my wrist and moved it away from my ear, easily fighting against the resistance I had attempted put up.

“Answer me, MC.”

I did. Day by day I ran from myself, hated when I saw my reflection, punched a mirror to shatters and watched my knuckles bleed until I could walk again. Every day the images of Richy would restrain my mind with shackles, guilt and helplessness charging and tackling me down the second the image unlocked their door.

“Crying. The silence of the sinners.” Micheal hummed. I didn’t notice I started sobbing.

“You mentioned Hannah and Richy… why me… why are you after me?”

“You have helped murderers. You willingly put people in danger for your own goals. You are powerfully bound to someone who has Duskwood’s blood inside their veins. You are the perfect victim. You are the final sin to separate me from my curse.”

My head pounded with distress. I pleaded for everything to be a nightmare, for the cold of the rain on my skin to be imagined, for the thunder in the sky to be a loud neighbor cutting into my dreams, for the storm to be a mask of my guilt.

The sentences resonated in my mind, bouncing and leaving a dull ache everywhere they touched my being. My parents weren’t from Duskwood. Neither of them had connections to the forgotten village within the lost forest.

My eyes went wide and a sudden inhale filled my lungs as realization came to me.

Jake.

Micheal yanked my head upward by my hair. A thunderbolt struck the tree in half, the spot scared with the raven splitting into two. Merciless heat of fire graced against my freezing skin, a high-pitched ringing consuming my ears. A cold metal blade pressed against my throat as I felt Micheal get closer to my ear one last time.

“This is your Armageddon, MC.”

-----

A/N: Hi!💕 This post was rather unplanned since I didn't want to post too much Angst, but I've had this idea for a while now and reading the story of @neptunee has given me so much motivation, I couldn't resist🤭🌿 I hope the stories don't share too much similarities, I promise if anything appears copied I didn't do it on full on purpose!

[abluescarfonwaston]

Hi! So, um,, I know this isn't something you should ask a writer so please feel free to ignore this. I was wondering,, , your "the white wolves" story has brought me so much joy and I am grateful that you wrote it! I was just wondering, if you're not going to finish it (this isn't meant to pressure you. If you don't want to finish it that is 100% fine and your choice and I'm thankful for the five chapters you gave us!!!) so, anyway, I was wondering what the conclusion was going to be? If you're comfortable answering that. If not, that's absolutely fine of course and I'm sorry for asking.

Thank you so much for your lovely stories and I hope you're having a wonderful day!

Okay first off, we're totally cool don't even worry about it. I am always touched people still care about and think about an unfinished piece from like 10 months ago. And now that I have seen that it's almost been a year I feel it is important to point out that while this fic has clearly been physically abandoned, it has not been emotionally. Or Else I would not have spent the last hour pacing back and forth angrily lamenting that I do not have more hands. I do not want to provide you with an unsatisfactory summary in an undercut about how the story was going to unfold. It is not that I mind sharing these details - I have done so to others who have asked. It's just that admitting something I still love so dearly may never get done hurts.

Hopefully one day I will find that voice again.

Spoilers for a fic that will (probably) never get finished under the cut. It is 2.6k and includes most of the final section.

The next sequence in the story is them all taking a nap on the side of the road. Jaskier gets up and calls Yennifer for help. Do you know that part in the books where Yennifer saves Dandelion and he doesn't know why? Because I owed you one. You kept him from being alone. I think about that alot. I think that's why she comes. Not then. She meets them at the keep in a few days time. She is too tired to arrive before then.

There is a scene of the four of them in an inn. Of Ciri, afraid to sleep least she destroy the inn like she destroyed that forested grove. We have a moment when he looks at candle on the inn nightstand and remembers a inn fire that almost killed him and how he hadn't wanted to sleep in an inn ever again. (I foreshadowed it. It's allowed. I once read that Regis saved Dandelion from an inn fire. I thought it was canon. I know its not. I think. I only ever read the short stories. They sit on my shelf. One day I'll read them.) He understands. Still he tucks her in and tells her it will be alright. That is the empty words of adults who lie to children that they think do not know better. No. It is the empty words of a bard whose job is to write lullabies that get children to bed on time. Besides it will be fine. Even if things go bad, we will be with you the entire time.

These are the two scenes I largely blame for the fact I stopped writing this fic. I got stuck on Yennifer's conversation and then wasn't sure how to get that inn scene to actually play out. Anyway. Back to the part you were actually asking about. What's the deal with the wolves? Both of them.

They arrive at the keep. They are greeted and loved and yeered at and pestered. Jaskier is nervous and concerned as he eyes the silver in their blades. It is strange they believe the doppler. But he was a very good Doppler. He digs his fingers into white fur. Remember you promised. You promised you were him. Don't let it be a lie.

And oh I have lost the voice but they are in the great hall with Vesemir and Eskel and Lambert and Geralt and Geralt and Yennifer. She peers into his eyes and does not reveal him. Silver medallions brush against skin and he does not flinch or melt. Geralt of Rivia is Geralt of Rivia. Of this there is no doubt.

The conversation turns to Ciri and Jaskier quietly slips out. It is snowing, just a few flurries on the still air. The wolf flows him to the room they set their bags in. Geralt's room.

This was not how it was meant to go. This is not how it was meant to go. Yennifer was supposed to look at the doppler and then at him and go what the hell and they would slip away and break the curse on the wolf - on Geralt. And they would quietly change hands. The Doppler into the wolf. The wolf into Geralt. Ciri would not know of the quiet deception they had pulled. The magicians trick with revolving mirrors.

Because clearly the doppler loved them. Because clearly the doppler had chosen them. Do you ever think about how in the short story Geralt is ready to kill the doppler that wears his face and it knows this because it is also him so it turns into Dandelion. Because he Knows Geralt would never hurt Dandelion? It's falling in with a lie. It is so easy to in love with a lie. Jaskier knows this.

It was supposed to be like this. Laying in a bed in the Keep with a white wolf next to him. Playing ballads for Geralt and Yennifer and Ciri and not hurting. Because he'd lay next to the wolf at night and bury his face in its fur. And in the spring they would run off to the coast together. You can wear a different face, whatever one you'd like, and will prove to you again and again that I still love you.

I am good at loving people. You know this about me. I might not be able to love you first. That might be why you love me. Because I loved Geralt of Rivia first. So completely that whatever motive you had you abandoned for the sake of it. For the taste of it. I know what it is like to want so desperately to be loved. Wearing different faces and personalities in the chance that someone might.

I know that very well.

But unlike you I'm always still just Jaskier.

The wolf slips in the door behind him.

Jaskier rounds on him. 'What the actual fuck? What the fuck are you? You Promised me. You Promised me you were him." The medallion bounces off his chest and he hates it. Rips it from his neck and brandishes it like a weapon. "I kept this for you! I thought you were him! You promised me you were him! What are you?! I told you I would help you even if you weren't him! Why?!"

The circle of the medallion cuts into his hand.

"Is this funny to you? Bringing me all the way up here and making me look a fool?! Making me watch Geralt picker her Again? Is this funny to you? You and this sadistic game?!"

And he throws the medallion. It hits the wolf dead on. Hit's his bowed forehead. Right between the eyes. Just in front of his flattened ears.

He has always been a good shot.

It is snowing outside. Just a few more flurries. The winter stretches out, immeasurably long in front of him.

He knows who Geralt chooses. That those 'I love you's are lies. No. Not lies. Geralt did not mean to lie. Not intentional. But it was so easy when your heart is broken to bury yourself in someone that does. Love you. Drowning men love life boats but they'd much rather be on the ship that cast them out.

He knows. It exactly what he was doing too.

I love you doppler. I could love you too.

The winter stretches immeasurably long in front of him.

"I can't do this." There is a bag in his hand. A case. "I can't do this."

There is a whine but he does not hear it as he rushes out the door. He can't do this. Down the stone hall. Wind whips through a hairline fracture in the Keeps walls and cuts his cheeks red where they are wet. He can't do this. Out the doors. Through the large wooden gates. He can't do this.

The winter stretches immeasurably long in front of him.

In the great hall a sickening feeling curdles in Geralt's gut. Honestly its seeing Yennifer again. This is all so wildly out of hand. Even if he knows they need her. That Ciri needs her.

"It's startin' to snow. Your idiot better come back soon."

"What?" He turned to Lambert who had curled up in a mountain of blankets in the window nearest the fire.

"Said it's starting to snow, dumbass."

"No the other part."

"Peacock left a while ago. Think he had the right idea. If I'd know she was coming I'd have stayed down south."

"What?" Snow was coming down hard. Big wet flakes. Could hardly see the keep walls through them. "Why didn't you say so sooner?!"

He shrugged. "His dog went after him."

His gut does a funny thing then. It eases in relief before his brain catches up and yanks tight in terror.

The wolf went after Jaskier.

Jaskier is alone.

With the wolf.

In a snow storm.

Jaskier is is alone in a snow storm. He walks down the mountain alone. As he knew he would. Why did he think it would be any different this time? Why does he never learn? He is a fool.

The wind picks up. The snow buries the path. He huddles in a protected alcove and wishes he'd been thinking clearly enough to steal one of Geralt's cloaks. Just to be petty.

He is probably going to freeze on this mountain. Walking down it alone. He might die. But even if he doesn't something will have died. Something in his chest that he cradled like wounded bird.

How many times must you touch fire, how many times must you be burned before you learn? How many times Jaskier? How many times?

He pulled his doublet tighter around him.

Just the one more time it seemed. Just once more.

Barking. Just one voice barking. Barking into the snow and wind in the distance.

Are you looking for your pack? Did you get lost? Separated? I hope they find you. I hope they answer you. I wish I had a pack to call out to.

The snow drifts down in heavy blankets and there is nothing to do but sleep. All he wants to do is sleep.

There is warmth in his dreams. Heavy and warm and soft and reeking of wet dog and something deeper. Something less domesticated and tame.

"You found him?"

Geralt's voice. Deep and soft. Reaches him. Buried in the snow. Cruel and kind in equal measure. To make him hear that voice before he, probably, dies.

"... Thank you."

There is a gasp. He recognizes it. That shocked little inhale of Geralt's.

"I think... That druid overpaid."

He wakes up to a stone ceiling. To thick and heavy furs covering him. to a wolf pressed into his side. To a man known as the white wolf pressed into the other.

Words will find him soon. But for now they are held back by a dam of confusion and exhaustion.

Geralt reaches an arm over him and scratches at the wolf's forehead. "Hm." Got it. The hum says. The same one he uses when Jaskier reminds him to pick something up in town. Hm. Got it.

The dam breaks.

"Oh so you're just okay with each other now? Everything is hunky dory? Jaskier goes out into a snow storm and you drag him - Unwillingly mind you - back here and now you're best fucking friends?! Well it's not all A-O-Kay over here so perhaps you might let me up so I can demand Yennifer do me the solid of getting me out of this godforsaken keep?" He wiggled under the mountain of blankets that held him captive.

"Wha-" Geralt's hand pressed down on his chest. Preventing escape.

"Or you know just go back to the love of your life, take your one goddamn blessing and leave me be!"

"Jask-"

"Oh don't give me that- you're gonna run right off after Yennifer and we both know it and you," Glared. Bared his teeth at the wolf. "Are a lying manipulative bastard and I hope she turns you into a gnat or a pigeon or - or something!"

"Jaskier!"

His jaw clicked closed. He did not soften his gaze.

"We- He - it's not. He didn't lie."

He scowled harder at Geralt.

"You remember that druid Ciri told you I helped?"

"... Vaguely."

A woman and woman who was not her wife. But was. In his story, in his song, he would tell it as if she was.

You saved my heart, I don't know what I'd have done if she. She. Witcher how can I ever repay you?

What food do you have on you?

Uh.

Fine. We don't have time. Don't tell them which way have gone.

No that's not- perhaps the law of su-

No. No. Lie. That will be enough.

It's not!

"He," Nodded to the wolf. "Was how she decided to pay."

He studied Geralt. Then the wolf. Their matching golden eyes.

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

Geralt grimaced. Hair falling over his face. "He's a familiar. She made him for me. Of me."

He studied the wolf again, distrustingly. "How does that work?"

Shrugged a shoulder. "You'd have to ask Yen."

"Don't care that much." He tried to wave his hand and the idea off but couldn't get it free from the covers. "Shouldn't you have known then? If he's made of you?"

"We weren't... connected. You have to. Touch."

"Oh and she thought you'd just go out of your way to touch a big white wolf? Honestly what was the plan there? You'd have just killed the damn thing."

"Mhmm."

"Seriously what kind of mad man goes out and pets a two hundred pound wolf? Could have at least tied a note to its neck for explanation before setting it loose on the countryside, wandering around looking for you."

"It wasn't..." He hummed his prodding question. "Looking for me. That's not what it was supposed to do."

"And pray tell what was it supposed to do?"

Geralt was quiet. The charged quiet that said he knew the answer but didn't want to tell him.

Eventually. With a fair bit of glaring and wiggling on his part, he answered.

"She was repaying the favor."

"Oh and what's that supposed to mean?! What you saved her partner and she sent the wolf to go out and save yours?" He scoffed. "What did she magic you 'a white wolf to protect your heart when you could not?' as you did for her? Is that it? Absolutely absurd, I wouldn't write that drivel."

Neither Geralt met his eye.

"Geralt...?"

"That's..." He ducked his head. "Hm."

Right.

"But then why-"

A wolf appears in the darkness. All white fur and golden eyes. Protects him from the bandits. Brings him a rabbit when his stomach growls.

I love you Jaskier. I'm sorry it took me so long to realize.

They lay on the bedroll and Geralt kisses him like a thousand drunken kisses. Like a thousand sober ones. And the wolf follows after Ciri and comforts her when they cannot.

The wolf seeks him out in that ruined clearing while Geralt cradles Ciri. While Geralt debates with Yennifer and Vesemir over Ciri's fate. Her training.

I love you Jaskier.

Protect his heart, white wolf, when he cannot.

"Oh."

He let his head fall to the side. Watched Geralt watch him with those golden eyes he had memorized decades ago. Listened to the sound of his breathing that was more familiar than his own.

"Tell me again."

Geralt cocked his head a fraction. Brow furrowed in confusion.

"Tell me again, what I did not believe. If it is true. Tell me again. Geralt of Rivia."

"Tell you...?"

"I love you, Geralt. Despite all sense and reason. Do not lie to me. Do not pretend if I am fated to walk down that mountain alone again. Do not lie to me."

His eyes widened. He pushed himself up and over him. Caged him in his muscular, scarred arms. Shoved the wolf aside.

It grumbled. Huffed. Walked out of the room. Towards Ciri. Towards his heart.

"Jaskier. I love you." He said again.

And this time. This time he believed him.

"Then, You absolute fool and dullard." With only Geralt to hold him down he worked his arms free. Held Geralt's head in his hands. Traced the stubble of his jaw that he could, if he needed to, shave blind. From memory alone. "Kiss me. I have waited long enough."

Geralt leaned down and did.

He remembered the barking of a single wolf. It's howls into the storm. Searching for its pack.

I hope your pack finds you. He wished to its unseen form.

Mine did.