#i want to fucking disappear in a forest and die the way god intended me to.

[southislandwren]

kind of tired of professors thinking they're the only class that matters. sorry i cant drop everything to study for a quiz tomorrow that only covers today's lecture content. turns out i do actually have other classes

[findingjoynweirdstuff]

Dream SMP Recap (June 2/2021) - Self-Care and Reconciliation

Fundy tries some speedy self-care to follow Quackity’s directions of “finding himself.”

Foolish finds out about the supreme fridge and isn’t pleased. 

Antfrost seeks out Foolish, Bad and Puffy to find peace and make amends after what happened with the Egg. 

---

VOD LINKS:

Philza

Tubbo

Fundy

Foolish

Eret

Captain Puffy

Antfrost

Michaelmcchill

---

- Phil works on the basement some more

- Tubbo works on his outpost

- Tubbo comes over to the Arctic and visits Phil in his basement to “spy” on him 

- They go to Tubbo’s outpost and Tubbo asks if Phil would like to make a TNT canon with him. Phil sees Las Nevadas 

- Tubbo’s a changed person since he tried to kill Phil’s friend, and now he and Phil are on good terms!

- Tubbo and Phil start attempting to wrangle a Ghast together for the outpost

- A few days ago, Quackity told Fundy that he could have a plot of land in Las Nevadas under certain circumstances, and Fundy has a choice to join the nation or not

- When he and Quackity spoke, Quackity said that this plot of land can be his if Fundy can find himself. Fundy needs to fix what’s broken

- Living in the middle of nowhere away from other people isn’t good, so today, Fundy wants to take care of himself and become a better person

- Fundy’s snow fox is outside, but Fundy decides to let him roam for the time being

- Fundy goes outside and creates a board with signs: 

FUNDY’S PLAN TO BECOME BETTER MAN:

Healthy diet! fish, steak, vegetables, fruit, dary, grains

Take care of himself. be able to cut down tree fast

mine diamonds

be able to accept therapy say “im okay with therapy”

good friends, get 3 people to say im a friend

sleep

take care of pet :)

learn to count

- He sets up a timer to do these eight things, and once it starts, he immediately runs off to fix his diet

- Fundy fetches some cod from the sea and spots Tubbo’s outpost in the distance. Curious, he goes over -- if someone lives there, that can go towards his friend goal

- Seeing that Tubbo isn’t online, Fundy messages Phil instead. He asks if they are friends, and Phil just asks what he wants. After a lot more pressing, Phil says they are friends! Fundy is his grandson, after all

- Phil asks if Fundy is safe. Fundy is overjoyed that he cares about his safety, and counts that as two friends! Fundy says he should come by to play cards sometimes, and Phil likes the idea

- To himself, Fundy whispers: “You are a friend and you are appreciated and worth something. You are cool. You are special. You are loved.” 

He counts this as the final friend, and has now completed one goal!

- He creates a small patch of dirt and plants wheat, then goes mining for diamonds

- Fundy chops some trees and returns to his house

- On his bed, he psyches himself up and musters up the courage to say something

Fundy: “I...accept...and am okay...with...”

(he struggles to say the last word)

Fundy: “I accept and am okay with...therapy. I accept and am okay with THERAPY!”

- He then goes outside and learns to count by killing zombies

- After that, he has to go find his pet snow fox. He asks a nearby Enderman where he is

- Fundy and the Enderman go searching together

- Fundy can’t find the fox. He keeps searching around the forest, until he comes back towards his house and finally finds the fox sleeping on a nearby hill

- With all his other goals done, there is only one remaining: sleep.

- He goes to his bed, hesitates...

...and sleeps.

(This is a set up for next stream)

- Foolish returns to his summer home from Las Nevadas and finds the WAR sign, confused. He then notices the disappearance of the supreme fridge

- He reads the war note left in the chest for Ponk and is outraged. That fridge was his gift! Of all the buildings that have been built here, the fridge was the one thing he allowed

- There will be consequences, but as Foolish will be gone for a bit, he can’t do anything now. 

- Foolish begins to go through the stages of grief, mourning the fridge, before leaving a note:

---

You destroyed my fridge. It was my gift from Ponk. The one structure that was built for me on this server was destroyed. Once I go through the 5 stages of grief...I will then add on a bonus stage.......REVENGE

---

- He kills one of the L’Sandburg citizen llamas to send a message

- Foolish goes to the main area and visits Eret’s fortress, noticing the totem statue Eret made in mourning. He changes the sign to simply say “in honor of Foolish” instead

- While working on his pyramid some more at the summer home, Foolish notices Antfrost just over the hill. Ant comes over, seeking to apologize for killing Foolish

Foolish: Listen Ant. From the very start I blamed the egg. And I don’t believe the REAL Antfrost killed me. Nice to see some blue eyes as well

Ant: but we didn’t listen to your warnings, we had our chances and we betrayed you and our friends. I wouldn’t blame you if you killed me right here

- Foolish doesn’t. He tells Ant that he’s moving on. 

- Ant asks if there’s any way to make it up to him, and Foolish says he could use some help gathering sand (Antfrost finds sand tasty, but Foolish doesn’t eat sand. It has too many calories)

- The two gather sand together

Foolish: I hold nothing against you

Ant: thank you

Foolish: Honestly I think the banquet has changed me for the better

Ant: how so

Foolish: It has given me new found strength. Basically from here on out...I’ll be less timid to take action

Ant: well at least something good came out of it

Foolish: So how about you Antfrost, what’s next for the old sly cat

Ant: I need to talk to Puffy and Bad and Sam and everyone I’ve wronged

- Ant asks if Foolish has seen Puffy anywhere, whether there’s something he can give her as a peace offering. She likes llamas

- Foolish thanks Ant for his help. Ant says if Foolish needs anything, to let him know. Foolish looks forward to happier times

- Puffy comes on later and finds the book Foolish left in the chest. She reads it, but she still thinks getting rid of the fridge was better for the aesthetic, and she had to get back at Ponk

- She writes another letter, this time to Foolish, titled “To my sharkyson”:

---

Dear Foolish!

It was not my intention to make you sad or angry! I didn’t know you cared so much for the fridge as well. it was kinda ugly and it stood out so much from the rest of the builds! But I assure you I’m not allied with Bad, my whole goal behind L’llamaburg was to keep an eye on Bad so he didn’t build any further on your land or cause you more problems.

Once Bad was gone I fully intended to disband l’llamaburg and tear it down!

Sorry for any sadness I may of caused.. you don’t need a fridge though to be reminded of how Supreme you are!

---

- Ant is at the animal sanctuary. Everything’s been destroyed, but at least Floof is still alive

- He saves Asshole the fish from suffocating out of the water and puts the fish back in the aquarium

- Ant goes looking for Bad. They need to talk

- They meet at the Community House. Bad hasn’t seen Ant in a while, he hasn’t been around. Bad asks if Ant is okay, and Ant doesn’t know. He died

- Ant asks what happened. Bad says things didn’t work out according to plan. Ant remembers Quackity coming in at the Banquet...

Ant: “Bad, what did we do? I killed Foolish...”

- Bad says stuff happens and he doesn’t think anyone would blame Ant

Ant: “Bad, I killed him! What do you mean you don’t think anyone blames -- Bad, we’re monsters! Do you know what we did?”

Bad: “W-well, I try not to think about it!”

Ant: “Well you can’t just ignore -- you can’t act like we didn’t do -- Bad, I killed Foolish, we were gonna kill E-- oh my god, Eret’s on the server too.”

- Bad thinks it’s fine, Foolish will recover and Puffy killed Ant but it was one for one. Ant remembers all the horrible things he said to Puffy before he killed Foolish and asks where Bad went afterwards

- Bad had no choice but to run. He couldn’t save Ant, they were outnumbered

Ant: “...Do you not feel bad about anything? Bad, we’re...we’re mon-- we did horrible things!”

Bad: “Well I mean, yeah, you did do some horrible stuff...”

Ant: “No, YOU! You did some horrible stuff! Who pushed Skeppy into lava, Bad? Who betrayed their friends? We betrayed Sam, Bad!”

Bad: “Okay, we did some horrible stuff -- hey, no! Okay, but -- there were good reasons at the time, or we felt like there was!”

Ant: “No! No no, Bad, we let the Egg control us! No! Did the Egg give you what it promised?”

Bad: “No, ‘cause...we never completed the plan...whatever it was. Ant, I can’t remember exactly...it’s not -- look, it’s -- I don’t know...”

- Ant asks if he’s talked to Sam and Puffy yet. Bad’s trying not to think about it, but Ant says they can’t ignore this. They’re friends, they should make amends

- Ant asks if Bad’s been back down there, but Bad’s steered clear. Ant is feeling normal again

Ant: “I...Bad, do you not...We’re fucked up! We did horrible things! Our friends tried to stop us, and we didn’t listen! We didn’t do anything!”

Bad: “There’s a lot of ‘we’ going on here...”

- Bad points out Ant didn’t really say anything. Ant accuses him of blaming him

Bad: “No, I’m just saying that...if the collar fits!”

- Ant says they both did horrible things, they dragged Hannah in, Punz too and Ponk. Bad hasn’t checked up on those three since. It doesn’t seem like Bad feels bad. Ant’s been gone because he felt ashamed

- If there’s anybody that they’ve hurt the most, it’s Sam. They were the Badlands

- Bad says they were brainwashed. He knows it’s not an excuse, that they should still own up to it even if they weren’t fully to blame

- They both killed one person each. Ant accuses Bad of putting the blame on him again and says that Bad killing Skeppy was worse because they’re platonic soulmates

- Ant wants an apology for letting him die and leaving him. Bad didn’t do anything, he just watched Ant die. Bad was caught off guard. On the other hand, maybe it was a good thing that Ant died, since otherwise they would’ve killed more people

- Ant says they should own up. Bad apologizes for letting Puffy kill Ant. He should have protected Ant, not just from Puffy but from the Egg too. Ant forgives Bad and says sorry for not protecting Bad from the Egg either

- Seeing as Puffy’s online, Ant suggests they go look for her. Bad says he’ll talk to Puffy later. Ant asks about Skeppy -- Bad talked to Skeppy right after what happened, but he hasn’t seen Skeppy since. They had a bit of a confrontation

- Ant wonders if Sam will forgive them. The Badlands wouldn’t be the same without him. He leaves Bad

- Puffy comes down the Prime Path and meets Antfrost face-to-face. The two have a bit of an awkward greeting

- Puffy reminds him of what happened. He doesn’t know how to apologize, but he says sorry. For saying awful things, for killing Foolish. He doesn’t expect her to forgive him, but he apologizes for what he did

- Puffy says it wasn’t right that she killed him, even though she was acting defensively, and she apologizes as well. Ant didn’t deserve to die either, he was blinded by the Egg. She holds Bad more to blame -- Antfrost talked to him recently

- Puffy forgives Ant. She asks how Bad handled it, and Antfrost says Bad is full of guilt and is hoping he can just forget about it

- Bad hasn’t apologized to Puffy, but Ant says he’ll get around to talking to everyone. Puffy made a burner Twitter account to hate on Badboyhalo and if she doesn’t get an apology, she might have to use it

- About L’Sandburg, Ant says he was there for like five minutes, but he doesn’t know what’s been happening since

Puffy: “Ant, you have to be your own person, Ant. He always uses you as his little pet to do things for you, and you murdered a man now because of it, because of Bad.”

Bad uses Antfrost to do things. Why didn’t Bad kill Foolish himself? Why was Antfrost thrown under the bus?

- She tells Ant that he needs to stand up for himself. She had to watch so many “RIP that pussy” and “Why���d you have to kill my cat” edits, it was the worst timing

- Puffy messages Bad asking if he’s apologized to Ant. They spot Bad nearby and walk over to confront him. He’s selling arrows

- Bad says he said sorry for letting Ant die, but Ant wants an apology for Bad making him do everything. Bad says they were both just following the Egg’s orders, that Ant had a grudge against Foolish -- but Ant says he didn’t, that Bad said he had to kill people

- Bad says sorry, but the Egg just wanted it that way. They accuse him of making excuses. Bad apologizes to Antfrost for making him kill Foolish, and the two hug

- Bad and Skeppy had a disagreement after the Red Banquet, and he has to check up with him to make sure he’s okay

- Bad says sorry to Puffy for what they did while under the Egg’s influence. Puffy was told that they were turning a new leaf, letting bygones be bygones so many times that if she took a shot every time she was told that, she would get alcohol poisoning

- Bad says sorry for everything to both of them, from the bottom of his heart. Puffy accepts to be the bigger person. They’ve always been a trio, always been friends, and now that the Egg’s no longer here, she’ll let it slide

- They do a group hug

- After some chatting, Puffy accuses Bad of having a Wattpad account to write Skephalo fanfiction and they continue talking about Skeppy’s merch boxes

- Michael joins the call! They all hang out together

- Later on, Eret and Foolish join in as well! 

- A while after, they all go over to Ponk’s stairway to heaven to finally destroy it

(The build dates back to at least early July, possibly June, of 2020)

---

Upcoming events remain the same.

[justarandomsideblog]

Okay I admit it I'm obsessed, just more Winged!Fundy AU stuffs

-Most of canon is side-stepped, using rough elements as a guideline (L'Manburg was a thing, it had its revolution, the 16th and doomsday, Wilbur died, Fundy and Phil are estranged/disowned, Fundy has his prophetic dreams which jumpstart his godly magic, etc) but Fundy is around the same age as Tommy, Tubbo and Ranboo are physically (the former of the two being immortals and the latter having a naturally long lifespan), and it takes place in a world where the nuke wasn't stolen and Quackity gets to be happy okay. Fundy is still being haunted by his dreams and begins to suffer from derealization, though I have no intention of going into details about it.

-Dream himself is mortal and isn't the big bad, but DreamXD, his twin/doppelganger is a god of chaos and is the main antagonist, and Dream is working for DreamXD. DreamXD has noticed Fundy's powers awakening.

-Phil is one of a handful of Angels of Death, having been created by Death through magic. He is technically Death's son, and if Death ever falls is the next choice to become the god of Death. He is technically a god, but as the son of a god and having wings he is referred to more often as an angel. Wilbur and Tommy are his biological sons, though they have different mothers (who are mortal and lived roughly 100 years apart). So technically all three of them are Angels of Death, and all their wings are made of magic.

-Wilbur manifested his godly magic when he was 3, and had Phil there to guide him through it so that growing his wings wouldn't hurt. His wings were pepper gray and white, but when he was still a small child he had a traumatic accident that irreversibly damaged his wings, and his wings were magically removed since leaving them be would have caused more problems.

-Tommy was barely 6 months old when he manifested his godly magic and grew his wings, taking both Phil and Wil by surprise. His wings are pure gold, a stark contrast to his father and brother. He still has them, but he started hiding them when he got involved in wars since they would become a target for the enemy.

-Angels have a special magic called an Angel's Bond, where they can, only once in their lives, share a bond with a mortal and extend their immortal life to them. There's different kinds of bonds this can fall under, though the most common are familial bonds, often between a mortal who was taken in by gods or angels. It ties that mortal's life to the angel's, and until the angel dies the mortal cannot die and will only age at the same rate as the angel.

-Techno and Tubbo are Phil's adopted children. Techno was found as a young Piglin in the nether, and he was roughly the same age as Wilbur. Phil ended up using his Angel's Bond with Techno. Tommy brought Tubbo home one day, Tubbo an orphan trying to get by in the forest, and Phil welcomed Tubbo into their home. Tommy ended up using his Angel's Bond with Tubbo after finding out that Tubbo's going to grow old and die before Tommy ever even reached adulthood. Phil has concerns about Tommy using his One and Only bond so young, but it can't be reversed so...

-Sally is the daughter of a god, and was created through magic. She has many sisters. Their mother calls themself Mother Nature, even though they are more accurately Life (versus Phil's father being Death) and Fundy is the actual embodiment of Nature, being the one and only descendant of Life and Death.

-Wilbur and Sally knew each other were angels/spirits/the children of gods, and they knew they were the children of opposite gods, meaning that their love was technically a forbidden love as life and death magic was never meant to mix. They fell in love anyways, and though the god of Life disapproved, they just sat back and watched. Sally actually couldn't have kids, being a product of pure magic, and ended up asking Life for help, and in the process made a deal; she and Wilbur got to have a kid and in exchange, they could never awaken the kid's magic (thus, these two immortals' son would be doomed to mortality) and Sally had to return to the sea after the kid turned 5. Oh, and Sally had to take a different form after being pregnant because Life did not want their grandchild to appear human. Yea Life's a sick fuck. Wilbur actually wanted to disagree but Sally wanted to have a kid biologically (they did raise several adopted kids which was very fulfilling but Sally just... wanted to have a baby, idk why, couldn't be me) so she agreed. Wilbur cried the day he came in for breakfast to find his wife had transformed into a fox woman cause he knew the timer had begun.

-They didn't tell anyone, not even Fundy, who they intended to raise as a mortal. They took away all magic from their house and told Fundy that Wil was a musician and Sally was an accountant. It was after Sally disappeared that Wilbur built L'Manburg's walls.

-Wilbur managed to keep Fundy from manifesting his magic all throughout his childhood and teenagehood, and he never found out that Fundy figured out astral projection and shapeshifting. After Wilbur died, however, Fundy began exploring a little more and ended up discovering some of his other powers (prophetic dreams/dreamwalking, being able to mold the world around him to a degree, things like that) and Ghostbur didn't remember enough to keep an eye on him. Phil had no idea, since Wilbur never told him, he never met Sally and Fundy hadn't manifested his magic when Phil was around. This time, where Fundy is completely alone and has all the time to himself, is when he begins manifesting the magic his parents had tried so hard to keep him from manifesting, and it's when the phantom pains from wings that hadn't grown yet began. It is a PAINFUL process to grow wings, even magically, because it comes from under the skin/attaches to muscle and bone, and since he has no older or more experienced Angel with him he has no one to help him or guide him...

-Ranboo is there when Fundy's wings grow, a very traumatizing moment for both of them (blood and Fundy definitely passes out and all that fun stuff), and manages to convince Fundy to not immediately try to chop them off with an axe (Fundy was panicking) but Fundy refused to go to Phil or Tommy because he has Issues(TM). Namely, he didn't want his family to decide he's suddenly worth loving because it turns out he's just like them after all. In fact, he's terrified that if they find out, he can never have a relationship with them because he'll never be sure if they love him or just love that he's like them. He wants to be loved for who he is, not what he is...

-On the other hand, Phil and Techno threaten to kill Dream when Dream shows interest (/p) in Fundy, and Phil tells him to "stay the hell away from my grandson" because even if he's angry about the whole Butcher Army thing, still, he is NOT about to let some cretin near his grandson. They do love him. They're just mad and waiting for a proper apology. (Phil, of course, does not know Fundy is more god than mortal so the idea of him manifesting death magic and growing wings doesn't even cross his mind, and doesn't know he let Fundy go through the wing growing process all by himself.)

-Funboo (/p) shenanigans as they try to hide the existence of Fundy's wings from literally everyone else. Tommy and Tubbo finding out in possibly the worst way possible. Tommy freaking out because Fundy A) went through that painful and traumatic process without another angel there to help, B) is trying to teach himself how to fly and use magic, and C) didn't feel like he could go to his own family about this thing that everyone in their family has gone through.

-Emotional family shit as Tommy realizes just how alone and isolated Fundy felt, not even willing to go to his own family to learn more about his magic? Learn how to fly?

-Enter Tommy&Tubbo&Fundy&Ranboo (/p ofc) shenanigans as they, very specifically, try to hide this from Phil, Techno, Ghostbur and anyone else they think might even possibly let it spill to them. Also Tommy taking over teaching Fundy about his magic and flying, because "no offence Ranboo but this is very different from enderman stuff"

-Fundy trying to come to terms with the fact that his family's perception of him won't change just because it turns out he's not mortal

-Fundy figuring out how to astral project right out of the mortal plane and talk to his father in the afterlife. It's tense ofc their last meeting was not a good one but Fundy needs answers because nothing's adding up....

[birdhaslostit]

🎁🎄❄️What the Lupin Gang would do for Christmas!❄️🎄🎁

Helloooooooo Lupin fans! You may or may not remember me as that one chick who made that Halloween headcanon post a few months back, as well as the Jigen’s bangs post. I’m back with a Christmas post!!!

Please note: Personally, I really only celebrate Christmas in a non-Jesus-y way. (Which is how I’m also writing this post, because let’s be honest, do you really think Lupin is going to confession and shit? Absolutely not.) It’s purely out of habit because I was raised Catholic, but I practice witchcraft now. My family doesn’t know that though. Because of this, I considered also making posts for other winter holidays, so I could include Lupin fans that don’t celebrate Christmas. But I didn’t want to accidentally mess it up, or write something inaccurate about a holiday that I don’t celebrate. It felt disingenuous to make a Hanukkah post because I’m not Jewish and it doesn’t seem like my place, and I didn’t want to do a Yule one either, because no two people celebrate it the same way. So, I strongly encourage others to add their respective winter festivities to this post if they want to! We’re all about inclusivity here.

Without further ado:

🎁LUPIN:

I don’t feel like it needs saying, but this man goes bonkers for Christmas.

He flip-flops his choice of red or green jacket by the year. But it always comes with an equally garish Christmas-themed tie, just to make explicitly clear that this is The Christmas Jacket for the year, as opposed to the standard red/green jacket.

The hideout(s) are always decorated to the GILLS inside. It’s an odd mix of older classy decorations he’s inherited from his family, and absolutely horrendously tacky ones he’s bought himself. 

Picture real branch garlands, wrapped tastefully around gilded candelabras that have been passed down through several generations. And then one of those singing, dancing stuffed animals from Walmart that plays “Jingle Bell Rock” when you squeeze its paw, right next to it.

Christmas-themed heists? You know it, baby. But he won’t steal anything on Christmas Eve or Christmas. It just isn’t in the spirit of the season, in his opinion. But he’ll leave a little something-something with his calling cards during the rest of December. A candy cane, a sprig of mistletoe, a bough of holly, etc.

Lupin despises eggnog. He loves any other Christmas drink, just not eggnog. He’s too grossed out by the idea of drinking eggs with alcohol- some things just shouldn’t be mixed.

Will not allow anyone to mention the truth about Santa Claus in his presence. Yeah, he knows, but that’s not the point. It just feels like bad luck to say it out loud. The harder Jigen tries to debate with him that Santa isn’t real, the harder he digs in his heels that “of course he is you absolute Scrooge, how dare you! If you don’t believe, you don’t receive.”

Favorite Christmas Songs: Anything peppy! 

Wonderful Christmastime by Paul McCartney

Step Into Christmas by Elton John

Rockin’ Around The Christmas Tree by Brenda Lee

We Need a Little Christmas by Percy Faith and his Orchestra

A Holly Jolly Christmas by Burl Ives

All I Want For Christmas Is You by Mariah Carey

Santa Claus’ Party by Les Baxter

Favorite Christmas Drinks: Literally anything except eggnog.

Favorite Christmas Foods: Anything obscenely sugary. Especially gingerbread men and other decorated pastries.

Favorite Christmas Activities: Loves to ice skate and make gingerbread houses! But his houses usually look fairly pathetic, no matter how hard he tries.

Favorite Christmas Movie(s): 

The Grinch (Jim Carrey version)

Home Alone

Scrooged

Christmas Gifts: The king of gag gifts, but he also gives surprisingly thoughtful presents too. He’s the kind of guy that would get a person something they mentioned once offhandedly that they really liked, and he’d go back and get it for them.

🎅JIGEN:

Lupin always wants to decorate the hideout(s) the second Halloween ends, but it never happens. With Jigen being the only American in the gang, he always puts a stop to it in order to preserve the quickly-disappearing border between Thanksgiving and Christmas.

What can I say, dude loves his Thanksgiving excuse to eat like shit and do nothing for a day. Even if it is a fucked-up holiday, historically speaking.

But once the Thanksgiving meal is over, he gives Lupin the okay to go crazy. He’s pretty stoked about Christmas too, but too full of turkey to contribute, so he just watches Lupin hang up Christmas lights everywhere while he lays on the couch and digests.

Jigen likes Christmas a lot, but like, in a normal person kind of way. Nowhere near Lupin’s insane level. He’s surprisingly open about his enthusiasm too. The average person would think he doesn’t really care about Christmas much (or anything else really), but to the gang, Christmastime is the most openly excited they’ve ever seen him.

One year’s Christmas-themed heist involved Jigen dressing up as a mall Santa as a part of the plan. The gang powdered his beard, gave him a pillow for his stomach, and sent him on his way. Everything went surprisingly smoothly, and he actually did pretty well with the kids. At first they were a little intimidated, and Jigen was kind of nervous- but he gave them all candy canes and they changed their minds pretty quickly.

Jigen enjoyed it a lot, actually... to the point that he may have potentially started volunteering to be the local mall Santa. Every year during December, he leaves for a day or two on “business.” Nobody in the gang can prove it though, and trust me, they’ve tried.

Favorite Christmas Songs: The classics and the chill ones, with a few rock ones thrown in for a little kick.

Mele Kalikimaka by Bing Crosby

Sleigh Bells by Gene Autry

(There’s No Place Like) Home For The Holidays by Perry Como

Jingle Bells by Frank Sinatra

Caroling, Caroling by Nat King Cole

Let It Snow, Let It Snow, Let It Snow by Dean Martin

Silver Bells by Dean Martin

Happy Holiday by Bing Crosby

Run Rudolph Run by Chuck Berry

Merry Christmas Baby by Bruce Springsteen (Sang this once after too much eggnog and will never live it down)

God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen by the Barenaked Ladies (He’s not into all the Jesus-y stuff, but it’s pretty catchy.)

Favorite Christmas Drinks: Jigen is ALL. ABOUT. THAT. NOG. He’ll make his cup a little stronger than everyone else’s.

Favorite Christmas Foods: He really likes candy canes, especially the mini ones. He’ll keep a few in his pocket with his cigs, and switch between them depending on his mood. Out of habit, it’ll usually dangle out of his mouth like a cigarette would.

Favorite Christmas Activities: Watching Christmas movies and laughing at Lupin’s shitty gingerbread houses.

Favorite Christmas Movies: 

Anything that’s on at the moment, really. He likes to lounge by the TV, and he’s not picky. 

He has a soft spot for A Charlie Brown Christmas though.

A Christmas Story, solely because of the BB gun.

Scrooged, because Bill Murray’s hilarious.

Christmas Gifts: Something practical and useful that the person never realized they needed until they opened the box.

☃️GOEMON:

Goemon wasn’t originally a huge fan of Christmas. Shocking, I know.

He now enjoys some aspects of it, and tolerates others. He likes the idea of giving heartfelt gifts and spending time with loved ones as a tradition, but dislikes the cheesy commercial aspect of Christmas.

He already enjoys the snow and walking through the forest, so the gang usually commissions him to pick a tree for them and cut it down with Zantetsuken. (If they’re somewhere where that’s an option.)

Unbeknownst to the rest of the gang, he will always replant the tree he cut down, and he will wrap something cozy around the bottom of the sapling to keep it safe. Yes, this was directly inspired by A Charlie Brown Christmas. No, he will not admit to this.

Favorite Christmas Songs: The instrumentals, and a few he’d rather die than admit to liking.

The Nutcracker March from The Nutcracker

Waltz of the Flowers from The Nutcracker

Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy from The Nutcracker

Christmas Time Is Here (Instrumental) by the Vince Guaraldi Trio

Greensleeves by the Vince Guaraldi Trio

Last Christmas by Wham! (He likes the storyline and the romantic aspect of it.)

Do They Know It’s Christmas? by Band Aid (He likes that it was for a good cause, even if it has its flaws.)

Happy Xmas (War Is Over) by John Lennon and Yoko Ono (Again, flawed, but he enjoys the intended message of peace. Also, represents Japan on the side with Yoko Ono.)

White Winter Hymnal by Fleet Foxes

Favorite Christmas Drinks: Surprisingly fond of hot cocoa. Heavy on the whipped cream and marshmallows. 

Favorite Christmas Foods: Doesn’t really like eating gingerbread men, but enjoys decorating them. They’re always pristine, like something you’d get in a bakery.

Favorite Christmas Activities: See above. Also enjoys going out in the snow, and making ice sculptures with Zantetsuken.

Favorite Christmas Movies: Refuses to admit he likes any of these.

Any of the classic Rankin Bass claymation specials.

Any other animated ones for kids. Has a soft spot for A Charlie Brown Christmas and The Polar Express.

A few of those cheesy Hallmark ones.

Christmas Gifts: Something small and sentimental he saw while walking by a store that reminded him of the person he’s giving it to. Nothing extravagant, but thoughtful nonetheless.

⛸FUJIKO:

Fujiko decorates the tree. Period. Lupin cannot be trusted to do this on his own. Goemon picks the tree, Lupin and Jigen put it in the stand, and from there, it’s all Fujiko. The ornaments, lights, and tree skirt are all perfectly color/theme coordinated, and arranged like a pristine store display. 

She also has a few ornaments that she bought for each specific member of the gang. Lupin’s is a monkey (he was not pleased, but he’s whipped for her, so he let her keep it). Jigen’s is a carved wooden pistol. Goemon’s is porcelain, with hand-painted sakura blossoms on it. She bought one for Zenigata too as a joke one year- a tiny bowl of ramen noodles.

Her ornament? The star on top of the tree, because she’s the star of the show, baby. It’s actually a snowflake, made of the finest crystal she could steal.

Favorite Christmas Songs: Pop music and Motown’s finest.

Underneath The Tree by Kelly Clarkson

All I Want For Christmas Is You by Mariah Carey

Santa Tell Me by Ariana Grande

This Christmas by Donny Hathaway

What Christmas Means To Me by Stevie Wonder

Sleigh Ride by The Ronettes 

Rockin’ Around The Christmas Tree by Brenda Lee

Christmas (Baby Please Come Home) by Darlene Love

A Marshmallow World by Darlene Love

I Like A Sleighride (Jingle Bells) by Peggy Lee

Favorite Christmas Drinks: Hot chocolate and mulled wine.

Favorite Christmas Foods: Loves baking and eating gingerbread men. She lets Goemon decorate them with her. Hers have lots of candy and sprinkles on them, while his are just icing.

Favorite Christmas Activities: Along with baking, ice skating! She’s the best at it out of the whole group. None of the guys are particularly good at it, but she makes them go with her at least once regardless.

Favorite Christmas Movies:

Hallmark ones, solely to make fun of them.

Babes In Toyland, but only the 1986 one, because it has Keanu Reeves in it, and “I don’t care if I’m your girlfriend, Lupin. In this house, we support Keanu Reeves.”

Christmas Gifts: Something expensive/extravagant that will make the person think of her every time they use it.

🎄ZENIGATA:

Zenigata is the second biggest Christmas enthusiast, just behind Lupin.

He doesn’t get to settle down and decorate anything really, since he’s always running after the gang, but he does lots of other little things to celebrate instead. Like getting hot chocolate instead of coffee, tuning the squad car radio to the Christmas station, getting an air freshener that smells like gingerbread, and wearing a festive scarf and gloves with his trench coat to keep out the cold.

In years past, Zenigata still had to work on Christmas Eve/Christmas, even if Lupin wasn’t out stealing anything. Lupin found out and thought that was a little harsh of ICPO, so he came up with a plan. 

Each year he sends a calling card to the station with the conditions that only Zenigata can come to investigate. Zenigata does some research, shows up to the location on Christmas Eve, and every year, nothing’s there except for a neatly wrapped present from Lupin. 

Zenigata keeps the present as “evidence,” goes back to the station, and they give him Christmas off to go investigate on his own, in case Lupin tries anything else. Lupin never does, but the station doesn’t know that. Bada bing, bada boom, Lupin just got Zenigata a vacation.

Zenigata never catches on, bless his heart.

Favorite Christmas Songs: Ones he can sing/hum along to in the squad car.

The Man With All The Toys by The Beach Boys

Celebrate Me Home by Kenny Loggins

Feliz Navidad by José Feliciano (Does Zenigata understand Spanish? Absolutely not. Does he get the point and think it’s festive? Darn right.)

A Holly Jolly Christmas by Burl Ives

Rudolph The Red-Nosed Reindeer by Dean Martin

Winter Wonderland by the Eurythmics

Silver Bells by Dean Martin

Happy Holiday/The Holiday Season by Andy Williams

Santa Claus Is Comin’ To Town by Gene Autry

December by Earth, Wind, and Fire (Let him have this okay, it’s a good song and he gets made fun of for liking it by the rest of ICPO)

Skating by the Vince Guaraldi Trio

Favorite Christmas Drinks: Hot cocoa and eggnog, but not strong eggnog like Jigen’s.

Favorite Christmas Foods: Anything, really. It’s something besides cup noodles, so he’s grateful. Lupin’s gift always includes lots of various Christmas goodies because of this.

Favorite Christmas Activities: Zenigata enjoys the snow in theory, but doesn’t handle the cold well. So he likes to watch the snow from his window while he listens to Christmas music in his squad car and sips his hot cocoa.

Favorite Christmas Movies: He doesn’t really have a lot of time to sit down a watch a movie, with how hard he works. But he remembers a few from when he was younger, and he really likes those. His favorite is Frosty the Snowman.

Christmas Gifts: Something inexpensive because ICPO vastly underpays this poor man, and he’s always embarrassed because of that, but it’s always something super sweet and heartfelt.

MERRY CHRISTMAS! And for those who don’t celebrate it, HAPPY HOLIDAYS! <3

[livlepretre]

6 TVD Prompt Ficlets

Filling a bunch of prompts sent in by @finnismyoriginalsin last August– I didn’t take all of them, so seriously, if any of these tickle anyone, GO WRITE because they are all fantastic!

(Jeremy x Katherine; Tatia, Katherine, Elena x Klaus; Tyler!Klaus x Elena; Klaus x Elena; Alaric!Klaus x Elena; Elijah x Elena) 

Prompts:

Not 12am here yet so lol..I have a few more if you wanna do. 

Prompt: Stefan is Jack the Ripper with the help of Klaus and Rebekah, obv it’s how he earned the nickname.

Prompt: Jeremy finds the old timey photo of Katherine, meets Katherine who he mistakes for his sister at first (may or may not be shippy).

It’s entirely fucked. He knows that. 

The thing is it had all started innocently enough– no one had ever thought to fill him in on the whole evil twin thing, noooo, better to leave him in the dark and let him bleed his broken heart onto his not-sister’s shoulder and start this thing– this thing he thought was Elena letting him in, finally being present, where just about every week she would take him out to this bar outside of town that never cards and buy him drinks and listen. And they would talk. 

They never discussed it, it just seemed to spontaneously happen. Between Jenna always listening in on his conversations and her stalker boyfriends that made sense to Jeremy. 

So by the time he figured out it wasn’t Elena he’d been spending all this time with, his head had got twisted around. He’d been angry and hurt and somehow those nights out with his sister that he adored turned into even longer nights where he would stare into the sultry, sharp features of the vampire like he was looking into a funhouse mirror. That was how he first noticed the shape of her mouth, the sharpness of her pearly white teeth. How he first imagined that mouth on him, those teeth in him. 

The leap from imagination to reality is devastatingly short. 

She likes to ask him questions while she nurses his dick, nurses the bloody bites in his thighs. He tells her everything she asks for. More. He’s always liked talking to her. Likes being inside of her even more, even though it means he has to blush and look away whenever his sister walks into a room. 

Until one day she stops coming by. He waits for her, and waits. 

It takes forever to realize that whatever she had wanted from him, she must have gotten.

It’s soon after that that Damon approaches him with a plan to take the bitch down at the masquerade, and he’s all too eager to participate. 

Prompt: Tatia, Katherine, Elena, Amara x Klaus, he can’t escape her, he’s the one running now.

She’s everywhere. He turns the corner: there she is. Looks in the mirror, and there, standing just behind him again, her, her, her. 

A thousand years have passed, and while the memory of Tatia Petrova has surely haunted him, it had not been until after the sacrifice, when he’d revenged himself on Katerina and drained that last girl wearing a damned face had the haunting become quite so literal. 

Now Tatia follows him for true, her eyes an accusation as she looks and looks and looks at him and refuses to ever look away, her gaze still and fixed as only the dead’s can be. 

Katerina plucks at his sleeves, her hands thin and gray as they never were in all the years he had known her. Where once she had caressed him with those hands, had loved him with those hands, now all she can do is demand from him that he acknowledge her. That he look at her, and see what he has done to her. He never looks, because then he would have to see the gaping wound in her chest where once her heart had been. She had given him her heart once, and he had taken exquisite pleasure in holding that still beating heart in his hand and ripping it from her chest, in watching the gray crawl of extinguishment creep over her skin. He had been a fool. 

The worst is the last one. Elena, he reminds himself. 

Her skin painted with blood from head to toe, flames eternally licking at her hands and her feet. He always knows she’s found him again from the scent of charnel that follows her on a windless breeze. Of all of them, she holds herself farthest back. Never looks at him, never even seems to notice him. It’s unbearable, when he can feel around his wrists and around his ankles and threading through his ribs heavy chains, forging his fate with hers. Her last words had been Go to hell. He had not realized at the time that she intended to drag him there herself. He feels the weight of them, pulling ever tighter. Her silhouette is thinner every time he spies her. He doesn’t want to think what will happen to him when she disappears entirely. 

And so he runs. Leaves America, and then the Western Hemisphere altogether. Abandons civilization and society to plunge into the deepest forests, the darkest seas, daring to outrun the inevitable. 

Everywhere she finds him. She, she, and she. 

His three-faced goddess. His death where he had only ever thought to look for triumph. 

He had thought the chase was over that day he plunged his fangs into Elena Gilbert’s neck, but now he knows: that was the day the true hunt began. 

Prompt: Davina brings back both Kol and Finn accidentally, their ashes were mixed in the urn. And/or Davina brings back Finn who masquerades as Kol for a bit.

Prompt: Klaus x Davina, he also has a thing for witches like Kol. Gold dagger threats.

Prompt: Rebekah x Kol, secret liaisons

Prompt: Tyler!Klaus x Elena, awkward morning after, angst. And/or Tyler!Klaus x Caroline bc that would be super awkward and angsty.

It’s obvious as soon as she wakes up with her head clearer than it’s been since she turned that this is a huge irrevocable mistake. The mistake to end all mistakes. 

Elena creeps out from Tyler’s bed, cringing at the dried blood plastered all over both of their bodies, mapping the wild caresses that had led to the frenzied fucking last night. She trips almost right away– she lands hard on the floor, where she is forced to look into the glassed over eyes of the girl she and Tyler had picked up at the Founder’s party last night and, in a whiskey-drenched, blood-starved haze, seduced and then devoured. 

She groans, hanging her head in her hands, as viscous guilt surges up in her throat like bitter bile. 

Worse. Her gums ache. Even now she’s wondering when her next opportunity to do it again will be. 

“Lovely. You’re awake.” Tyler sits up and stretches. 

Elena narrows her eyes at him. Something about his word choice seems off. She’s known Tyler since they were in diapers, and never once has she heard him use the word lovely. In fact, there’s been something odd about Tyler ever since he mysteriously, miraculously didn’t die when Klaus burned– 

The blanket falls off of him and she is faced with the evidence of everywhere she had touched him with her hands and her mouth last night, all mapped out in vivid crimson like the cheat, the slut, the failure she is.  

“What are we going to do? What are we going to tell Care?” Elena moans, huddling in on herself. She draws her knees to her chest and rests her forehead against them. There’s a dab of blood on her left thigh and she can’t help sticking her tongue out to taste it, to comfort herself with it, even in the pit of all of her anguish. 

She’s gone and slept with her best friend’s boyfriend. Completely lost control of herself and abandoned everything that made her decent and worth loving. And she’s a murderer too, now. A really, really hungry one. 

“We should come clean with her,” Tyler says. “Straight away.” He eyes her naked body. “Well, perhaps after another bout. What do you say?” He crawls onto the floor with her and pins her beneath him. 

Lightning flashes through her brain. She kicks herself for not realizing sooner– but how could she? She’s been a wrecked, starving mess ever since she woke up on that coroner’s table coughing her lungs out. 

“Tell me again what you said after you saved me from Klaus,” she whispers. “In the kitchen.” 

The hybrid on top of her pauses. “I wanted you to drink some orange juice.” 

She shoves him off of her and darts to the other side, looking for her clothes. “First off, as though Tyler Lockwood would ever offer me anything other than a shot,” she says, thrusting her legs into her jeans. “Second off, what the hell, Klaus?” She stares down at her arms. She’s covered in Klaus-marks. Her skin crawls. “What was this? Why are you in Tyler’s body?” 

He stretches and prowls towards her. “I’m on holiday here until your little witch friend can find a way to jump me back into my own without that stake destroying me as soon as she does.” 

“And so you thought you’d just have a go at me?” 

“You handed me the perfect opportunity to separate Miss Forbes from her boyfriend.” He leers at her. “I must say, though, the after dinner show was far beyond my expectations. I do hope I can persuade you for an encore.” 

She slaps him. “You’re vile. I’d rather–”

“You’re already dead, and next to that, whatever else you might say is going to pale in comparison.” He leans in, brushes his mouth against her ear. 

Elena represses the shiver of delight and disgust that rolls through her. 

“And before you go casting stones: you still slept with me when you thought I was your dear friend’s boyfriend. What does that say about you?” 

Prompt: Finn x Rebekah or Freya, first meetings again.

Prompt: Klaus x Elena, hybrid baby somehow, oops can’t kill her now. Or, something pre season 1.

“You’re cheating on me?” he asks, bewildered. 

Elena– sweet, sexy, sixteen year old Elena– swats him, dashing tears away from her eyes in the next motion. “Of course not! God, how can you even think– Of course it’s yours.” 

“I highly doubt that.” Never sleep with a Petrova woman. That has been the rule he has been muttering to himself for 500 years. Why couldn’t he ever listen to himself? No, he just had to seduce the girl while he hunted for the moonstone, he couldn’t just leave her alone once he’d seen her– 

“Well, I regret sleeping with you too,” she sniffles. “But since you’re the only one I’ve ever been with–”

In an instant he’s caught her in his gaze. “Tell me who the true father of your child is,” he compels her. Once he has a name, he can vent his frustration and jealousy out on him. Snapping necks always makes him feel better. 

“You are,” she informs him, bringing the sky to come crashing down on his head without so much as batting a pretty black eyelash. 

He sputters, pushing her away from him. His thoughts spark and short– how– perhaps– 

He studies her wildly. Could her doppelganger nature be responsible? 

He curses, all at once becoming aware of the weight of the moonstone in his pocket. 

How can he sacrifice her now? He’ll have to wait– he pauses, tries to recall how long human pregnancies last– Well. Never mind. He’ll have to wait, at any rate. First for the child to be born, then for it to be weaned. And then? He can already foresee a limitless expanses of reasons to wait longer as this Elena Gilbert raises his child piling up in front of him. 

And as he waits, Elena will only grow ever more beautiful and deadly. And he will have no choice but to fall in love with her. 

Prompt: Alaric!Klaus x Caroline or Elena, meeting after class, creep.

“Elena, stay a minute after class.” 

The girl pauses in the middle of packing up her bag, her large doe eyes curious but trusting. So trusting. Had Katerina ever looked at him like that? Tatia certainly never had. 

As the class shuffles out, he takes the liberty of closing and locking the door, noting how still the girl doesn’t question him. 

Isobel had chosen well when she’d selected the history teacher. 

“What’s this about, Ric? Is it about–” she ducks her chin, very seriously, how sweet– “Klaus?” she half-whispers, half-mouths. 

An absolute thrill rolls up his spine at the shape of his name in her mouth. 

“Is there something you know that I don’t?” he asks carefully, fighting a smirk.

The girl’s face goes smooth as glass. He suddenly has a desire to tear her scalp free, the better for him to look inside her brain at all of those thoughts he can fair see swirling mercilessly behind her dark eyes. 

He hovers over her desk. Cannot resist tucking a long tendril of her silky brown hair behind her ear, to sink into those abyssal eyes like an animal trapped in tar. Those eyes could smother a man. A vampire. 

“Keep your guard up,” he murmurs, chucking her under the chin. “You never know who could lying in wait.” 

Prompt: Elijah x Elena, him and his ties, during first seeing her after smelling her (you know the gif)

The shock of her existence is immense. In a moment, his entire world realigns. Shifts back into an alignment so seamless and perfect he cannot believe that he had gone on for centuries thinking this possibility were gone forever. This girl– this as yet unnamed, unknown, human girl– is a miracle. An opportunity for vengeance and maybe– just maybe– a chance for redemption. 

He straightens his tie. Cannot fight the smile on his face as he greets  her. “Hello.” 

Sorry lol, damn I ship too many things.

[noxtms]

IN CHARACTER DATE : december 9th, 2020. SYNOPSIS : the answer to the question of where is percy weasley.  TRIGGER WARNINGS : abduction & blood, torture implied. 

and the panic sets in like this : slow and brutal, tar - thick in the back of his throat when he realises that he can’t move his hands. ( it comes as a double edged sword of terror and dread ; there is nothing he can do. PERCY is acutely aware of something sliciing neat ribbons into the flesh of his wrist, of the way blood trickles lazy rivers down his hands. ) hues haven’t quite been able to focus / devoid of either contacts or the glasses he only wears when he’s alone, percy’s never felt quite this helpless before. bound to god knows what and barely able to see : he cuts a desperate, sad image. he’s too afraid of the way the noise might ricochet in the silence, the way it might snowball into a sob that’ll wrack an attenuate ribcage. god, he feels exposed.

( and despite it all, he’ll cling to ludicity : he knows that screaming, begging, yelling won’t do him any good. crying out somewhere at the back of his mind, the sickened thought : this isn’t good. someone wants you dead, and if you scream you’re more likely to die. you cannot afford your mother another dead son, another casket her frail shoulder cannot possible bear. in the face of abject misery, you resolve to stay silent / complacent in your own disappearance. that’s if they notice, what if they don’t notice, what if a tree falls in the forest and no one is around to hear it scream --- )

somewhere, a rustle in the dark, and resolve crumbles. it can’t be helped. “please, help me, please.” 

four words & suddenly it’s a performance / mask down, lights up, camera set, action. all the world a stage and the space is now a grandstand, one that amycus intends to milk for all it’s worth. he comes to life as if it’s that note of desperation that he’s been waiting for, puppet on string. he pushes wide the door of the room the other is held in as if it took force to burst inside, his chest heaving from imagined exertion, his wand clutched too tightly as if he’s ready at any moment to defend them from unseen terror. he looks equal parts terrified & frantic, as if he doesn’t know what’s around any shadowed corner and he wants to get them out of there as quick as possible. 

of course, his steps falter immediately. a true rescuer wouldn’t hesitate to release the bonds holding the other in place, but AMYCUS holds back as if assessing a situation that needs no assessment. there’s a waver to his voice. “percy weasley. merlin’s beard... your family will be so relieved you’re alright.” he feigns a look over his shoulder, all the better for appearances. “i don’t know how much time i have...”

he’s begging. one sound from them and he’s already pleading, as if the sound in the dark is a savior, instead of specters plucked from ephilates of a tired generation. perhaps it would be a mercy to cut to the chase, but the carrow twins, well, they’re known for playing games. that’s all this is, isn’t it? their way of playing god by toying with percy like he’s little more than a plaything in the hands of spoiled children.

ALECTO lingers behind as amycus enters the room where the weasley is kept, falling into her own role. “did you find him? do you need me to come help?” her distant voice slips into the overlap of breathless apprehension and uncertain hope, the cadence of a rescuer watching for the return of the monster under the bed. languid are her movements as she paces, wand tapping across knuckles. “you have to be quick!” 

if foreboding was a tight knot in the colum of a constricted throat earlier, it’s the cold tendrils wrapped tight around flesh now. solace would’ve been a warm blossom through limbs if PERCY wasn’t so brutally aware of who his supposed rescuers are : he’s no fool. the carrows’ faces have snarled up at him from posters since his days at the ministry, and a new wave of trepidity rolls right through a quaking, bound frame. ( as hard as he tries, there’s a buoyant little squeak from the backburner / “what if they’re here to help?” he’s many things but an idiot isn’t one, he knows that no good can come of the pantomime he’s found himself embroiled in. there’s nothing resembling hope in the scene that has begun to unfold. it’s strange, really : the brunt of percy’s heartache is borne of worry for the family he’s convinced he’ll leave behind. own mortal peril is LESS of a concern than their collective grief / he wishes, in these strange moments that he’s sure will be his last, that he could apologise to molly and arthur. sorry mum, sorry dad. you deserved better than this. )

“where am i?” he’ll try to amplify the modicum of bravery that’s set into his tongue, but it wavers / intonation gives way to distress and percy sounds like a fucking child, so far removed from his near-thirty years. “how long have i been gone?” 

he’s more intelligent than they’ve given him credit for. there’s a spark of recognition in those wide, fearful eyes that couldn’t be DISGUISED if he had the forethought to try, and AMYCUS is almost colored impressed by it. the emotions rolling through him - terror, dread, uncertainty, grief - were so powerful in origin amycus had trusted in a cloud of doubt thrown over their faces, but percy weasley is not as much fool as the family name implied.

he casts a glance towards his sister, the sort they don’t need to couple with words ( it’s an old wives tale that all twins can communicate by thought, but the carrow twins are an old time terror, aren’t they ? two little children born to blood, lying awake in the dead of night and learning each other’s faces better than they knew their own ). it says he knows, even while the tiny smirk that pulls at the corner of his lips says, but we can work with that. 

“you’re just outside of swindon,” he’s turned back to the other now and his expression is back to faux care, back to something that resembles genuine concern - all it misses, now, is the added note to a purposely trembled voice. amycus abandons this, now, going for confusion above flawless PERFORMANCE. “that isn’t a detail you need concern yourself with, percy,” long enough for the questions to start, yet not long enough for the printing presses to begin churning out the missing poster. amycus does not make a show of dropping the facade, once and for all : it is simply there, and then not. “the question is how much longer you have to stay.”

the hope in his voice gives way to an ill impersonation of courage, and ALECTO finds that it sounds little more than that of a child’s mettle. her brother looks to her and she reacts with a quirk of her brow, a casual cant of her head. ( he does? how boring. ) when she steps from the penumbra cast by the empty, unlit room she was waiting in prior, she looks a touch uncanny, with cheeks just a bit too hollow and pallid skin just south of a typical color since leaving azkaban. almost normal, if not for the little things. “quite ugly place, really. don’t know why anyone would wish to come here.” words border a taunt, an almost cloying thing on her tongue. only a matter of time before they figure him gone, and she’s called to work. certainly just enough of it to begin pulling at threads, to the start of unraveling it all. she takes a step or two forward, and it’s like she clisk into something, a return to herself maybe, when she falls into place next to amycus. she plays off of him. “and how long it’s going to take your family to notice. any guesses? no?” 

it comes and goes in waves : the startling clarity that chills him right to the bone ( i am going to die at their hands i am going to die here i am going to be another tragedy upon the family name oh god mum i’m so sorry i’m so sorry- ), and then the hysteria that crowds his throat, makes him want to laugh in sheer delirium. it is altogether surreal, to feel your pulse running cold one minute and chruning something intemperate in your ears the next / PERCY weasley, alone with the carrows. fate has a funny way of rolling the dice, only to leave you stinging when you lose.

“what do you want?” ( an altogether practical question / percy’s never been one to sit around, wait it out. their histrionics do nothing for a choleric captive ; not when blood is still running thick rivulets down palms of his hands, when he’s bitton so hard at a lower lip that it too glistens crimson. there is a trace of it on his canines. he doesn’t know. ) “i don’t have anything you’re looking for, i swear.” 

AMYCUS is a predator circling prey as he moves further into the room and closer, still, to percy. alecto joins him and only near to his sister does he feel - in an odd way, confident enough - to crouch at the others level. "don't insult yourself or our intelligence," it's funny, the contrast : his expression is cold but his voice is almost velveteen, low & warm & in any other setting, any other situation, nice.

"you aren't the only person with the information that we need, percy. you're here because ronald and ginevra aren't, but don't doubt in our willingness to abandon you here, alone, and finally introduce ourselves properly to your brother... or reunite, with your sister." he smiled. again : pleasantly. if not for the context of carrow, amycus would be nothing more than a professor expressing interest in catching up with an old student. "i promise that you don't want that to happen, and to stop it, all you have to do is tell us what we want to know."

pulse throbs something fierce behind eyelids, violent underneath the sacrum of his throat, helpless in the way he cannot move. “don’t you dare touch them. don’t you dare.” ( his heart beats a little faster at the mere mention of younger siblings. all those years spent chastising, picking at them, far too overprotective and never as kind as he should’ve been : symptomatic of a love that doesn’t know vernacular confines, that only knows the kind of rage that builds an inferno behind gritted teeth when they’re referenced like that. ) clever wizard that he is, PERCY can only kick out ; nearly loses his balance, almost topples his little prison over. it’s an adrenaline rush he needs / the kickstart he needs to spit another falsehood like a loose, bloodied tooth.

“i told you, i don’t know what you want.” and to some extent, he doesn’t : captor keeps mentioning information that he doesn’t understand. “nobody told me anything.” feigned reticence suits him ; percy makes a wonderful liar, all bruises and swollen despite the way lies make his stomach twist into sailor’s knots. 

there’s a roll of dark irses, a testament to patience lost during her time in azkaban. “you’re right, how can you be so sure you don’t know without us even asking?” cadence borders something sing-songy, something sweet enough to rot. long strides bring her around his chair, where hands push down on the back, balancing what he had almost thrown askew. the legs are strident when they return to hardwood floor. percy’s boxed in by them both, now, and though wands aren’t drawn, they don’t need to be to prove a point. “it’s easy, percy. where is harry potter? his body, his things...” ALECTO paints an almost innocent picture with wide eyes and relaxed posture as she lingers over his shoulder. “and a little tip --- we don’t take too well to being lied to. my ideal day may not be spending time with the most boring, self righteous weasley, but like amycus said, we can just as easily go to one of the other, hm, is it six of you now?” 

and the thing is, every fivre of an aching being is straining against this ! the hard line of a jaw is stiff with muscle, and yet it happens anyway : in light of alecto carrow lingering over his shoulder, circling like a vulture, PERCY laughs. it’s entirely humourless, dry and barked into atmosphere so tense you could carve it, but it happens. ( for what it’s worth he regrets it immediately / urge to be violently sick follows it, but he’s able to swallow that one down. )

“you think they told me where his body was? jesus fucking christ,” ( muggle london has fouled up that mouth --- ) “you can’t possible think they told me that.” hysteria is a slow bloom that’s spreading through blood and bone alike, deadly in the way it seems determined to swallow him whole. “every bit as fucking daft as she is, you two, thinking they told me anything. fuck.”

percy knows the price, knows it intimately before he’s even spoken. you don’t leave something like this unscathed, something like this without the battle scars to prove it. he knows, deep in marrow, that he isn’t leaving this alive. shaking, terrified, quaking with nothing but sheer fury, he steels himself for the bloe before it even arrives. this is what happens when you lie, when you laugh. this is what happens, and so it goes. 

the carrow twins move deliberately. they move as one. where one pushes the other pulls ( like opposing magnets, still connected in some indescribable way ), always compensating for the other on little more than blood instinct. alecto crosses to steady percy and amycus - in what is almost bored glory - rises, only then, to his full height. she leans left, he takes a step right. she focuses upon their charge, AMYCUS allows his attention to float. he undoes the buttons of his sleeves, both rolled up slowly to expose arms that are mottled by stark white scars & marred by one recognisable tattoo.

"percy, percy, percy," he clucked his tongue, caught between chilling disapproval & aching disappointment. there's a reason that he keeps using his name, as if they're old friends caught in something neither can control : a power to claiming it, an added threat. "we already know of the boys connection to your blood traitorous family. all those summers spent under the same roof, one more child for your overworked mother to wrangle... of course you know where he is. your family loved him."

"i'm sorry, percy. i know you'll tell us what we want to hear-" he sighs. gaze flickers towards his sister, an almost imperceptible jut of his chin given to urge her to stand away from the seated boy, and from his back pocket is pulled a wand that is, even without brandishing, a threat. "but we did tell you not to lie." the striking of a snake : predator meet prey.

with the reverent uttering of "crucio," amycus' wand slashes downwards.

[phaticserpent]

Playing with Fire

(Demigod! Reader X Ultron)

Summary: you are a child of Hephaestus, one day you create a device that can track metal that surfaced onto the earth. Instead of finding mounds of metal, you find something more complex. You find Ultron. You, being curious and excited, jump in to help him. The two of you soon find yourselves in love.

CHAPTER ONE

The night had arrived, but that didn’t stop you or your cabin members from welding and tinkering. The other campers didn’t complain, some had gotten use to the sound of metal. Of course the newcomers wouldn’t get much sleep and you all agreed to meddle with metal less when a new camper was admitted to the camp. You had been working on a project, something most of your cabin mates would complain about: finding metal. It was tough. Most of the metals were deep in the earth, far down from your reach. Hazel Levesque would offer to use her powers when she visited Camp Half Blood, but she would warn you that the metals were cursed. So all your cabin members decided to decline the offer politely, there were better ways to obtain metal. Such as your metal tracker, that would be able to find metal on the earth’s surface. This was your twentieth attempt in creating a metal tracker. You had prayed to your father, Hephaestus for some luck. Finally placing the last piece, you prayed to him and Lady Athena that you had gotten the math right, and pressed the power button. The screen brightened, which caused you to smile and you jumped up in victory.

“I did it! I made a metal tracker! Guys!” You shrieked as your siblings turned in disbelief. One of your older brother, Devin took the tracker from you and studied it.

“My gods you actually did it!” He exclaimed. “Good job [Y/N]!” Your other siblings took turns in congratulating you on your accomplishment.

“Thank you!” You had said to each of them. You stared at the screen, there was a red dot and a green dot. The red dot was you and the green dot was the metal, it had to be at least a few miles from here.

“It must be outside the camp borders.” Devin studied. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah! I just need to pack, grab a few weapons.....Uh, if I don’t make it back, don’t come looking for me.”

“You really think we’re going to leave you?”

“No, but I’ll hide the metal tracker for you guys to find.”

“[Y/N]—“

“It’ll be fine. I’ll be fine.” You smiled. You grabbed a backpack, stuffing food and water. Your preferred weapon was a bow, but just in case, you took your throwing knives that you made when you first came to camp. You also stored a small bag to collect the metals. All your siblings huddled at the border, bidding you farewell. You smiled and disappeared into the forest with the tracker in one hand, and a knife in the other. You ultimately regretted traveling at night, as the dark forest didn’t ease your nerves at each sound. There were loud footsteps and the howling of hounds, hellhounds. You pushed the tracker into your sweater, taking an attack stance.

“Please help me!” A voice cried out as a small figure bounded towards you.

“Just keeping going straight and you’ll reach Camp Half Blood in a matter of minutes. Here’s a knife to defend yourself, I have more.” You smiled as the demigod thanked you and continued running. You shuffled through your backpack, but no knives. “Shit shit shit, I fucking left them on the table.” You realized. The howling got louder and you decided, fuck it. You ran directly at the hounds, and safely passed them. They all snarled as they shifted directions and focused on you.

“Shit shit shit shit!” You cursed, making your way out of the forest. “Dad! If you’re there, please help me! You don’t want your kid to die right? Right?” You could see the clearing of trees and prayed to Ares for better speed. From the shadows, two more hellhounds appeared. “Are you fucking kidding me!” You growled.

“Great, didn’t even make it through the forest.” You sighed. One of the hounds leaped at you, and you held out your hands even though it would’ve been pointless. No contact came, you peeked your eyes open to see the hound had turned to ashes. “What the....?” The other three growled and pounced, one took a bite of your leg as the other two attacked at the sides. Your hands erupted with flames and the hounds scrambled back in fear, even you had begun to scream. MY HANDS, ARE ON FIRE. IT’S PRETTY, BUT AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH?? The hounds retreated into the shadows, their growls fading away.

“Dad.....I need answers!” You shouted. “Did you.....did you give me firepower? Or did I have them all along?” You stared at your hands. Just get out of the forest! Your brain yelled and you dashed out of the trees and onto a road, which was barren. You stood there, utterly confused as to why you were outside of camp grounds, until you remembered the tracker. “Oh right! Metal. I really need to get my priorities in order.” You pulled out the device, staring at the screen. You had moved, but so did the metal.

“That’s precursor.....lets just hope the metal doesn’t belong to someone. That would be awkward.” You sighed and continued to follow the dot. You eventually reached the destination, which was an old factory. “Mm yes, not suspicious at all......I hope you aren’t leading me to my death.” You spoke to the tracker. Of course it did nothing. So you summoned all your courage and walked inside the factory. It was cold and obviously, dark. You stared at the screen as the dot got closer, and closer, and closer to you. You were about to look up, when you crashed into something.

“My gods, who put this wall here!” You exclaimed and glanced up. It wasn’t a wall. It was a robot. “Oh! I’m very sorry Mr. Robot.....I thought you were a wall. Well, that was my assumption because I wasn’t looking where I was going.” You apologized. It stared at you and you stared back.

“Are you alive? Or am I talking to a dead robot?” You questioned. You studied the figure in front of you, a tall structure, with complex body parts that were more human than robotic......oh so an Android.

“Who are you. My sentries scanned this factory and there wasn’t anyone.....where did you come from?”

“Uh, nowhere....wow, you’re beautiful.” You examined. Okay [Y/N], pull yourself together. “So shiny. Can I touch you?” Gods, what the heck? Now I sound stupid and perverted. UghhHHHHHH!

“W-what?”

“What’s your name?”

“Ultron.”

“I’m [Y/N] [L/N]! Who built you?”

“Myself.”

“Wow! That’s amazing, for a second I thought my dad built you, but you’re too beautiful and advanced. No offense dad.”

“Who’s your dad?”

“Hephaestus, the god of machinery and blacksmith.”

“You’re a demigod?”

“Yup! You won’t tell anyone right?” You asked. “We’re kind of a secret to humanity.”

“Do you know Thor?”

“Who’s Thor?” You asked. Thor? Why does that name sound familiar? “Oh wait! Thor from the Norse stories! Yeah I know of him, I don’t know him personally.”

“I’ve met him.”

“Oh that’s nice!” You continued staring at Ultron. “The way you built yourself is amazing! I built this metal tracker, but it’s not much. Our family needed metal to build.” Ultron gently took the device from you, studying it.

“Quite amazing craftsmanship.” He commented. Your heart fluttered at the remark. “I think it’s really helpful in your case.”

“Thank you!” You grinned. “So, what are you doing here?”

“I’m here for the same reason as you, metal.”

“Oh cool! Then there’s metal here, strange, my tracker doesn’t pick up the other metals.....just you.” You shrugged. “What do you need metal for?”

“I need to build my army.”

“Could I help you build your army?”

“Wait, you’re a human. You don’t find it weird that I’m creating an army.”

“Is it my business? No. Do I care? Not really.” You shrugged. “But let me guess, you’re a villain that wants to take over the world. And some heroes want to stop you.”

“That’s a guess?”

“Oh please, I pieced it together the minute you mentioned Thor. Yeah, it took me a while to process who he was and why his name was so familiar. And demigods may not have a good source of information, but we talk. There’s hundreds of us out there, who are connected to the world more than others.” You mentioned. “So, take over the world or destroy it? Which villain are you?”

“I’m going to save it.”

“Good luck with that, this world is messed up.”

“So you admit it.”

“Yes, humans are nasty.”

“Perhaps not all. They’re interesting.” Ultron claimed, his eyes staring at you intently. “What makes you say humans are nasty?”

“Eh, I don’t hang around people much. Other than my siblings and other demigods, sometimes we go out in the city, but that’s when the world is in danger. Humans can’t fix anything by themselves, they make a mess and expect other people to clean up......I’m just use to a robotic companion more than a human companion.” You said. “Oh, and robots or machines are pretty straightforward......usually the simplistic ones. Humans lie. Humans betray. And humans manipulate others to get what they want. I’m....I’m just tired of people hurting others, but when they get hurt it’s like the end of the world. Playing the victim card.”

“You’re tired of humanity’s desolation, I understand. Which is why humans need change and I intend to bring it.”

[whumptasticwednesday]

(Semi) Grown-Ass Man - (Peter Maximoff - X-Men: Dark Phoenix)

!!X-MEN DARK PHOENIX SPOILERS!!

Author’s Note: Hey, LividFigureSkatingLover (Ash) here! I hope you enjoyed the fic posted last week that Jimmy uploaded for me. That was actually something I’d written months ago but we felt like it would be an appropriate beginning fic. This, however, is a fresh fic that I started writing the day after Jimmy and I went to see Dark Phoenix on opening night. Needless to say, we were both disappointed with the critical lack of Peter in this movie. Like, you can’t just yeet your fan-favorite character into the sidewalk and have him carried off the jet in a stretcher without acknowledging anything! Anyways, next week will be Jimmy’s week to upload a fic, so you won’t see me for a while, but I can assure you my next fic is in the works. HINT: It’s addressing the critical lack of Dadneto in this film (although after that I think I’ll be done with the Peter fics for now.) Anyways, enjoy the fic! (This fic is also unedited so if you catch any errors, feel free to let me know!)

Word Count: 5749

It had all felt like an instant. One moment, the X-Men were emerging from their jet to bring Jean Grey home, the next, irreversible and horrific destruction. It all ended with Jean soaring into the sky and disappearing into the clouds with a distraught Scott and an angry and grief-ridden Hank on the asphalt. Charles slumped back into his chair and sighed. Nobody could have expected this. The crushed police cars and house smashed like a Popsicle stick craft project were just white noise to the heavy betrayal, anger, grief, and pain filling the atmosphere. The uncanny silence was only broken when Scott angrily shouted,"what the actual fuck are we supposed to do? Jean can't just, she didn't just, she wouldn't ha-"

"Damnit, Scott, can you shut your mouth for two seconds?!" Hank angrily seethed to the laser-eyed man. "You're not the only one standing here in the wake of Jean's unprovoked carnage. I don't think you can even begin to imagine how I feel right now... at least Jean's body isn't sticking out from a protruding wood spire"

Scott, being an impulsive young man, used every ounce of discipline in his reserve and resisted the strong urge to fire up an argument with Hank, and seconds after seeing Raven's impaled corpse, the fiery retort died on his lips, and it was instead replaced by a sudden realization as to the damage Jean had caused, emotionally and physically. The white noise of destruction was now a heavy screaming siren pounding in everyone's ears. Hank needed something to take his mind off of what had happened, losing his unrequited love due to a selfish impulse from one of his lifelong friends was too much for his mind to process at the moment. Since he couldn't do anything else, Hank did what he did best, took a calculated approach to fixing the catastrophe around him.

"We need to find Kurt and Peter. Scott, come help me... please," Hank trailed off as he turned away from Raven's lifeless body. "Charles, do something with her."

The cold and almost robotic tone from Hank was a sharp, almost eerie, contrast from the distraught tears that, only minutes ago, were streaming down his cheeks. Scott's mind, clouded by his own lovesick thoughts, followed Hank's orders on autopilot. Charles remained silent and observant as Scott and Hank trudged to the wooden remnants of Jean's childhood home in search of Kurt and Peter.

After what seemed like hours of precariously moving rubble and assorted wood pieces, Scott saw a mop of black and blue hair under a cracked 4x4.

"Hank, I think I found Kurt," Scott breathed a sigh of relief.

"Be careful, let's get all this off of him," Hank replied.

The two worked carefully and precisely until all of Kurt's body was exposed. His yellow uniform and his face were dusty and covered in grime and a small amount of blood. Hank gently tapped on the mutant teen's face as Scott hovered over his shoulder. Kurt didn't stay unresponsive for long though, and after a few of Hank's prods, he shot up off the floor with Jean's name fresh on his tongue, unaware of what had transpired after he'd been rendered unconscious.

"W-what? Jean, where's Jean? Is everyone okay?" the words fell out faster than Kurt himself could even process, and his mind hadn't quite caught up with the fact that he'd been crushed under the weight of an entire house.

"Kid, slow down. We'll explain later, okay? How do you feel? Do you know where Peter is?" Scott asked, questions firing faster than intended.

"No, I'm sorry. I can help you look for him though. Let me do something, I swear I'm fine." Kurt shot up off the ground, only to stumble into Scott's unprepared arms.

"Take it easy. Jean collapsed a house on top of you, I don't know how great you'll be functioning at the moment," Hank explained as Kurt nodded slowly with an exhausted and pained wince. "Alright, let's go find Peter."

Scott slung the lanky blue mutant's arm over his shoulder to support his weight as the trio began to search for the silver speedster. Since he moved so quickly it was hard to actually determine what Jean even did to Peter, as their confrontation lasted less than seconds to the average person's eye. The only thing Hank and Scott had seen was Peter being catapulted across the street and out of sight, so neither were all too excited to find out as to how he might be faring.

It took some time, but the three eventually stumbled upon Peter's battle-broken body lying slumped against a tree in a thick wooded area dozens of yards away from the street where Jean had wreaked havoc. Trailing his body was a coarse trail of uprooted grass and dirt, emphasizing the power and distance he'd been hurled across. Peter seemed almost as lifeless as Raven, his body heavily slumped against the tree he'd collided  with, blood streaking his X-Men uniform, face, and silver hair, along with dark dirt blotching his sweaty face, which was pulled up into a pained grimace. His signature goggles were loosely strung in his messily kept hair and one of the lenses was very visibly shattered, an ugly spider-like crack pronounced in the center of the lens.

"Oh my god, Peter!" Kurt let out a strangled cry as he laid eyes on his friend. He tried to stop the sobs as each one wracked his battered and sore body, but he couldn't. This was too much for him to bear.

As Kurt's sobs filled the forest, Hank ran his calculative eyes up and down Peter's body as his mind contemplated what would be the best course of action. He didn't want to risk worsening any external or internal injuries by jostling him in a carry to the jet, but he wasn't all too sure what help he could do with Peter out cold in the woods with no real medical assistance or tools around to help. As Scott tried to calm the ever panicked Kurt, Hank gingerly shifted Peter from his half-upright slumped position to lying flat on the ground. He ripped open the top of Peter's X-Men uniform and scanned the damage; bruises as black and blue as Kurt's hair dotted Peter's pale chest and his upper right shoulder. This wasn't going to be fun to deal with. Hank shot his eyes back to Peter's blood-stained face, hoping that tearing off his clothes would at least elicit some sort of response from the boy. Alas, nothing. As the seconds ticked by, Hank devised the one plan that would end in the least harm to all of them.

"Kurt, I know we're far away, I know you're tired, I know you're injured, but I need you to teleport us back to the jet. We can't move Peter like this, it's too risky, he's too badly hurt and I don't want to make this more painful for him than it has to be. You've gotta do this for us, okay?" Hank explained. He knew the kid's power took energy out of everyone he was teleporting, and with the damage eveyone'd sustained from the battle, it would be too dangerous to have Kurt warp multiple times, Peter wouldn't make it, and judging from his hazy eyes, Kurt didn't have enough energy for more than one teleport anyways.

Anxious scenarios began flooding Kurt's mind as his eyes filled with fear, the words he spoke dripping with self-doubt, "W-what if I can't? What if I mess it all u-up and I warp us halfway into a car and kill us all! H-hank, I can't do it."

Instead of coddling the boy like he normally would have, Hank let the dire situation speak for itself when he bluntly stated, "Kurt, I know you're scared, but Peter might die if we can't get him back to the jet. You've gotta take some faith in yourself and your powers and get us home, okay? Don't do it for me, do it for Peter. He needs you to do this for him."

It may have been the stern yet sincere tone of Hank's words, or hearing outright that Peter might die, but Kurt mustered up enough confidence to say, "alright... for Peter."

Hank shifted Peter into his lap as he joined hands with Scott and Kurt. Kurt silently prayed to God that he wouldn't kill all of his friends by pushing his ability's limits in an already weakened state, and with a last tension filled breath, the group disappeared into a dark cloud, appearing, seconds later, in the jet.

Scott felt extremely disoriented after the warp and his eyes raced around the jet before they landed on Hank's face, "shit. That felt weird."

"Indeed," Hank replied.

"I-I did it," Kurt sighed in relief as his eyelids fluttered closed and he collapsed onto the floor.

"Kurt!" Scott exclaimed.

"He's fine, just overexerted himself. He just needs to sleep for a bit and eat. This happened after his fight in Cairo too. Now hurry up and help me with Peter, he's not doing too hot," Hank explained as he set to work.

------

WOW A TIME SKIP...  At Xavier's School in the weird bunker area where they do X-Men stuff...

"He's still not up. You're gonna have to do something, Hank. He's gonna start healing and I don't think that his shoulder is gonna do it properly with the way it looks right now," Scott stated as he stared blankly at Peter's bloody and bruised body on the gurney.

Hank ran his fingers through his hair as he tossed his glasses onto the lab table. He didn't wanna set the joint without Peter being conscious, for fear he'd spring awake and cause himself even more harm if he took an instantaneous flight response. But, if he waited too long, Peter's enhanced healing would work against his favor and heal the crucial joint in the wrong way. He had to make a decision, and although it posed risks, it was better than Peter sustaining lasting joint damage.

Hank was just about to grab the limb to jerk it back into place when Peter shot up from the gurney with a blood-curdling scream of pure agony. Peter's eyes were hazy, confused, and full of pain as they raced around in search of what was going on and why everything hurt so bad. His eyes eventually met Hank's as he collapsed back onto the gurney, heaving heavy pained breaths into his cut and bruised chest.

"Hank, w-whass happenin, wha happened to me? E-everrythin's blurry and hurts," Peter slurred as tears unwillingly escaped the corners of his eyes. Throbbing, pulsing pain coursed through Peter's seemingly small frame as he started to unwillingly cry out of confusion and agonizing pain.

"Peter, you're at the X-Men base under the school. Jean threw you across the street with her powers and you hit a tree. You are safe and you're gonna be okay. I'm gonna help you, okay?" Hank said slowly to the shaken boy. Peter only gave a tiny pained nod as he bit his lip to try and stifle his crying.

"Can't we give him anything to numb the pain, like anesthesia or even ibuprofen? Setting the shoulder is gonna be excruciating for him," Scott asked, just wanting to lessen the agony for Peter.

"That's the thing, though. His fast healing and super speed are paired with an extremely quick metabolism. Anything we could give him in a normal person's dosage, he would burn right through."

"Can't we just give him a higher dosage?"

"If you wanna risk him overdosing, then sure."

Scott cast sympathetic eyes down onto Peter's terrified face, and although hidden by the signature ruby-lensed glasses, were full of sorrow as he fully realized what Jean had done. He felt nothing but pity for the pure fear and pain the boy was feeling. Peter's mind was racing back to when they had to set his broken leg and he didn't want to go through that again. He felt pathetic, a (semi)grown-ass man crying because he had to get a limb set. His sarcastic and dry-humored subconscious internally retorted: grow a pair!

"I'm sorry, Peter. We're gonna have to do this now. Bite this," Hank said as he dangled a rag above Peter's now bleeding lips. Peter grit his teeth and graciously took the cloth as the only thing to provide a semblance of comfort to the undoubted pain he was about to experience. "Alright, Scott, I need you to hold him down in case this goes South..."

Scott nodded in affirmation as he grabbed onto Peter's other arm and hovered above his already pretty immobile body while Hank took one more tentative glance over the silver-haired boy before locking eyes with Scott and clutching Peter's bicep in one hand and his shoulder blade with his other.

"Do you want me to count down?" Hank asked, knowing full well he would count to 3 but snap on 2. Peter nodded as he scrunched up his face with terrified anticipation, a visible layer of shining sweat collecting on his features. "Okay, one, tw-"

The last sound of 'two' was cut off by the cracking of a limb and Peter's howl and wailing cries of pure agony as he thrashed about violently on the gurney as Scott tried his best to gently restrain him without causing any more pain. Fat and ugly tears were freely streaming down Peter's face as the crippling pain in his shoulder coursed through his body and started to dull into an acute ache resonating from the base of his neck all the way down his bicep. His vision was blurred not only by his salty tears but by the waves of pain and adrenaline attempting to cancel each other out like an ocean current crashing into a reef bay. It was all a bit too much for Peter to handle. He went to curl in on himself, a primal instinct to go to the fetal position was shooting to his mind, yet when he tried, every dulled injury in his torso screamed back an affirmative and defiant: no!

Hank had sent Scott to get water bottles when he heard Peter's defeated and miserable whimper, which sent his own head whipping around to face the boy using his left arm to desperately clutch at his raw and tender torso, which was covered in dirt filled cuts and bruises that were attempting to heal over. Like any mutant power, there was a limit, and it was clear that Peter's advanced healing was taking on way more than it was able to handle, so his body's scattered attempts to heal his numerous external and internal injuries weren't doing him any favors besides exhausting him of what little energy he had.

"I'm sorry, Peter, I know you're in a lot of pain right now but I can't do anything for you but stitch up your major cuts and scan you for internal injuries. You know you can't have the regular pain medication," Hank stated, apprehension seeping into his every word as he ran his fingers through Peter's messy and unkempt hair that was now rifled with blood and sweat in an attempt to soothe the boy.

"I-I can't it... my c-chest," Peter stumbled through his attempted sentence, taking hasty and pinched wheezes instead of true breaths between his words. He was past humiliation at this point, any semblance of his normally sarcastic and fun-loving self was covered up by his embarrassment and indescribable pulsating torment wracking his body. Here he was, crying like a toddler while Hank of all people was petting his scalp, what an uncanny situation.

Scott returned moments later with extra towels and an armful of water bottles nestled hastily in his grasp. Much to Peter's dismay, Hank was terrified that Peter might choke if he stayed laying down, so his stitches and internal scan were going to be done upright. The simple shift in the gurney's position further aggravated the mysterious angry irritation in Peter's chest and sent him into a series of dry and forceful coughs, each one racking his exhausted body harder than the last. Peter never thought in a million years that the crack of the plastic seal on a water bottle would be so gratifying, yet here he was, face melting at the opportunity to soothe his parched esophagus and hopefully replenish at least some of his lost energy. Scott took to cleaning out Peter's minor injuries, starting the stitches, and helping him drink, while Hank was running a full body diagnostic on the silver-haired mutant. Peter's mind had slipped into a half-conscious yet fully-feeling feverish state where he wasn't really functioning, yet he knew what was happening. It took every ounce of his strength not to just pass out and sleep. He felt the tense prick of the needle every time Scott went back to further close up a gaping wound and he felt the ever present stare of Hank as he started running all his scans. The only time Peter came out of this hazy half-awake state was to drink that delightful and soothing water. Compared to every other sensory input, the water felt like heaven in the fiery depths of hell. The soothing liquid ran down his arid windpipe and seemed to address his every need, until it hit his stomach and he was met with a discomforted static strain in his abdomen. It was uncomfortable, sure, but didn't seem like it needed to be addressed, so Peter plastered on his bravest face (still kind of failing though) as he lightly furrowed his brow and drew his knees up closer to his chest, despite the protest of his aching (and presumably broken) ribs. Scott noticed, as did Hank, but neither thought too much of it as they continued with their busy work. Again, none of them were prepared as to what would happen next.

Fifteen minutes later, just as the diagnostic's results were finishing up, Peter's slight discomfort had warped into a stabbing and indescribable pain as he was wracked with waves of thick and heavy nausea. Scott was almost done with tying off the last gash on Peter's injured arm when he jerked violently to the side and began projectile vomiting, the only thing arising from Peter's forceful heaving being sticky yellow bile and an alarming mix of blood. Each unproductive heave was followed up by another wave of sickening nausea, which was followed up by another (usually successful) upchuck of fluids. Peter was running out of breath, strength, and stomach contents to empty as he grasped desperately to Scott's arm and his own horribly aggravated abdomen.

"Oh, Peter! Oh my god! Hank, what do I do?!" Scott yelled  frantically as he reached to hold back Peter's long and uncontrolled hair as the latter's body faltered over into another bout of wheezy heaving. Scott, however, was not expecting to have his hand be met with an alarming heat that seemingly radiated off of Peter's forehead. He touched his hands around the rest of Peter's face and his neck during a calm period of the heaving and Hank took the opportunity to hastily place a trashcan between Peter's legs to lessen the contortion his body had to do in order to avoid vomiting his own bodily fluids onto himself. "He's got a bad fever. Is this from th-"

"It's because his body's working too hard to handle everything happening to it," Hank cut him off  "It doesn't know where or when to start or stop and it's confused. He needs fluids to replenish his energy, especially after throwing up every ounce of water you just gave him. We're probably going to have to administer an IV."

The large technologically advanced screen in front of him blinked and beeped, signifying that the diagnostic was finished. At a speed that only Peter could best (at full health), Hank pulled up the imaging and was met with two giant glaring orange marks on an overall blue scan; those being 3 fractured ribs and some sort of internal injury on Peter's stomach lining. Oh my god, Hank thought to himself before nearly shouting to Scott, "He's internally bleeding in his stomach, that's why he vomited. That's why there's so much blood... " Hank took a second to calculate what to do. "We need him hooked up to an IV, NOW. Go get me the supplies."

Scott didn't even nod as he scrambled to his feet and dashed off to find what Hank needed. Peter himself was almost completely unconscious at this point, the high fever , empty reserves of strength, and overwhelming pain from every inch of his body were the perfect trio of unbearable feelings were one stroke away from completely pulling him under a fitful blanket of unconsciousness. He was just about to pass the brink and into the darkness when he felt the abrupt patting of Hank dabbing a soaked rag across his face and the dripping of cool water down his neck. The next thing he felt was the forceful jab in his arm and the strange dull feeling of the unknown slowly overtaking him. His spotted vision gave way to darkness as everything faded away.

"Peter? Damnit, he passed out. It's fine, we just need to keep him stable. I don't know how sustainable this is going to be for him. His body is gonna churn through this fluid faster than a toddler sips a juice box, but it's better than nothing," Hank sighed. And for the first time since Peter had awoken, the room filled with an unsettling complacent silence, the only other thing occupying the space being the exhausted pants from Hank and Scott, accompanied by Peter's tight and wheezy breathing.

------

WOW, ANOTHER TIME SKIP... At relatively the same location we were earlier, but like, a day later...

"Ughh..." Peter groaned. Unlike the previous day's events, though, was brought out less by discomfort, and more from boredom. He fidgeted anxiously with a loose thread on his pants while Hank swapped out his IV for what seemed like the thousandth time between the last 24 hours. "When can I get up and you know" Peter gestured abruptly with his hands "go."

"Give it a few more days, Peter. I know your mind is saying that it wants to get up and run 5 laps around the earth, but your body isn't ready for it. You're still running a temperature, your arm isn't going to be in full shape for a while, you might need physical therapy, the ligaments were pretty screwed up, and I don't want you aggravating your ribs or your stomach just yet," Hank insisted as Peter rolled his eyes. The speedster, despite knowing he wasn't nearly ready to be up and flying across rooms at the speed of sound, wanted to be productive. Part of his motivations for being up and at it was also the fact that he wished to hide his immense shame from the relented sob-fest that was yesterday evening by (like how Peter dealt with most of his problems) running until he couldn't feel his legs or until he couldn't give a damn and cared about nothing except the blurred scenery around him. However, it was hard to do either of those things when you were confined to a gurney in a bunker with an IV drip tethered to one arm and a sling on another.

As Hank left the room,  Peter was met by yet another sickening silence, this time, the only thing filling the room was his growing sense of wanting to be productive and just run, but alas, he couldn't. Having just slept for a sizable amount of the day, Peter was just itching for some entertainment, but being stuck in an empty room with no such objects to scratch that itch, he was growing irritable.

Little did the silver-haired mutant know that another certain lanky teleporting teen was standing right outside the door to his room in the medical bay, working up the courage to rebel against Hank's firm: "no, he needs to sleep" statement that Kurt was met with when he asked if he could go and visit his friend. Not being one to break many rules, Kurt was apprehensive about entering, hence his (kind of silly) minor internal dilemma. Mustering up enough courage, Kurt warped inside the room, where he was met with a "Jesus Christ!" from Peter. Kurt, startled by the shout, stumbled backwards and fell. From his position on the ground, he let out a shy,"hi, Peter. How are you feeling?"

"God, dude, you scared the shit out of me. Give a man a warning before you teleport into his private room where he's being held captive against his will next time!" Peter answered, sarcasm dripping in every syllable.

Kurt, being known to take nearly everything extremely literally, responded,"Has Hank been corrupted!? What has he done to you Peter? Do I need to tell the professor that Hank's gone mad, or is it all one big conspiracy?!"

"Whoa there, chill. As much as I'd like the added spice in life that a Hank-and-Charles-gone-mental plot would provide, I think it's safe to say that they're pretty sane... for now."

"Alrighty then. Well, I've come against Hank's wishes to keep you company, what do you want to do?"

"Hank wants me to suffer and die alone? What a traitor!" Peter grabbed at his chest, feigning heartbreak, wincing as his attempt at humor irritated his cracked ribs.

"I doubt that is true. I believe that the correct term to describe your behavior would be a drama queen."

"You'd be correct, buckaroo. Would you mind zipping to my room and grabbing my Walkman and my GameBoy?"

"Um, no problem," Kurt replied as he disappeared in a dark cloud.

Mere moments later, he reappeared with the music player and the gaming device. Peter eagerly reached out for both devices, acting like a hyperactive toddler who'd just been offered a lollipop. Although, the hyperactive toddler description wasn't too far off from Peter's personality normally. The plastic shells of both items were like comfort food and finally brought some form of distraction besides twiddling his thumbs for hours on ends or watching that 'maybe-speck-of-dust-maybe-spider' dance along the bright walls. He switched on his music and popped in an earbud, offering the other to a tentative looking Kurt.

"Dude, you've gotta try this. Please don't tell me Scott's scared you off from American music with his pansy-ass music," Peter insisted as he spun the earbud with his unslinged hand.

"It's not that... it's just, your music, in particular, has, on several occasions, shaken the entire school," Kurt replied as he took the listening device.

"It's called a 'jam session', Kurt," Peter explained as he used very visible air quotes to emphasize his point.

"Alright, if you insist," Kurt sighed as the guitar rifs and crashing of drums filled his pointed ears. He wasn't the hugest fan of all of Peter's loud rock or the deep heavy beats of Scott's rap, but he sat there regardless to try and enjoy a quiet moment with his friend. Moments like these were becoming harder and harder to come by as their world seemed to get even more hectic. The mutants had assumed that the battle in Cairo would have been the worst of it, it sure felt like it at the time, but now they were facing a new evil, one of their friends. Kurt really wanted to talk to Peter about it, maybe even break the news that Raven died, but he felt too timid, and compared to Peter's bold and audacious personality, he felt like nothing. Peter stopped his headbanging for a moment, and that sliver of time was long enough to notice the semi-uncharacteristic silence from the shy yet friendly Kurt, who was awkwardly staring at Peter's feet, caught in an apparent distracted trance, all headed by the semi-somber and contemplative look plastered on his face. Peter clicked the pause and the cassette stopped rolling. This seemed to snap Kurt out of his trance, and the new silence was quickly filled by Peter.

"You got a toe fetish or something? I mean, I know I'm incredibly sexy, but I didn't know you were into that, Kurt. Jeez!" he teased. Kurt just drew his knees up to his chest and shrunk up his neck to try and hide; whether he was hiding from embarrassment of having a strange sexual trigger or something else on his mind was completely beyond Peter's thoughts.

"You never answered my question..."

"What question?"

"How are you feeling. When we went to try and stop Jean, she crushed me with her house, and I couldn't help at all. I felt useless. It... sucked. And then, Scott and Hank dug me out of the rubble and we went to find you. You looked..." Kurt started choking on his own words, scared he'd start crying. Peter felt a strong urge to make another joke about his 'very undoubtedly sexy' body to finish the sentence, but he wanted to hear him finish. He knew Kurt was going somewhere serious when the German boy used the word: sucked, it didn't seem like something in his vocabulary, much less like a word he'd willingly use unless he really felt like he needed to. "I saw you there, laying on the ground, covered in dirt, bleeding everywhere, with this horrible, agonized expression on your face, just... stuck there. I'm so used to you smirking, laughing, or doing that weird thing where you raise your eyebrows up and down after you are sarcastic or make a joke, and to see you like that, still and sad, I just cried. I was terrified that you were already dead. I've never seen you sit still on your own for more than 5 minutes. Even after the fight in Cairo when you had your entire leg broken and in a cast on crutches, you were still smiling, animated as ever. I don't know how you do it, Peter... you're always so happy. I mean, I try, but I can't help but be..."

"Scared?"

"Yeah." For a few moments, the room was silent, seemingly becoming a common theme, and yet again, it did not last long.

"Hahaha..."

"Peter, are you... laughing?"

"You've got me all wrong, Kurt. I may be an impatient wiseass, but don't get me wrong, I've got plenty of moments in my backlog where I felt like I was gonna piss myself. You were talking about after the Cairo fight?" Kurt nodded "Well, during that fight, I went in, guns a blazin', ready to beat the shit out of this weird edgy blue raisin lookin' guy, yet a few seconds later, I'm getting my arm twisted way further than it's supposed to and my leg getting completely fucked up. In that moment, I was sure I was going to die. Had it not been for Raven and Erik, I probably would have."

Kurt gnawed his bottom lip and curled further in on himself at the mention of Raven. Peter didn't know. He doubted Hank would have brought up his resented heartbreak to the seemingly immature speedster. He wasn't sure if he wanted to tell him; Would the timing be appropriate? Would he be able to handle the weight of the loss? Peter'd even said that Raven had been a massive inspiration to him when he was younger on the jet where they had their first real conversation. It'd be hard to swallow the pill that one of your friends had been possessed and just murdered your childhood hero while recovering from blunt trauma. It all made Kurt's head spin and ultimately, he decided against it.

"Sorry to get all deep and edgy on ya. I didn't want you waltzing around screeching about my fearlessness or something, I don't know." Peter shrugged as best as he could before whipping out his GameBoy and waving it in Kurt's face.

"Umm, I don't understand what this is. It looks like a plastic box. Does this one also play music?"

"Naw, this is one of those cool new things from Japan. It's a handheld gaming device."

"Oh. So it's like the large arcade machines... but smaller?"

"Yeah, it's pretty bangin'. I've got Super Mario Land in the slot now, wanna try?"

"Yes!" Kurt took the device from Peter and was about to dive in when he tentatively asked "Umm, Peter? What is the objective?"

"You get the tiny man with the hat from the left to the right and eventually you'll find a lady and win. I guess even minuscule pixelated dudes need a babe," Peter joked. However, Kurt was already encapsulated in the tiny, unlit screen, a little beep going off every time he made the character jump. Peter watched with amusement as he resumed his mixtape with one earbud in, the other listening to the whirring air conditioner and the GameBoy's clacking buttons.

Content with his friend's newfound excitement and ease of mind, Peter felt his eyelids growing heavy and his breaths growing slower and deeper without any conscious feeling of pain with the intake of oxygen. And finally, without any thoughts of his dislocated shoulder, unsolved father-related problems, or his red-haired, newly space-fart-possessed, destruction causing friend, he drifted off to sleep with a content, comfortable, and very quicksilver-y smirk plastered on his face

[jupiterjunebug]

Going with option 1, I considered doing both but. I. Can’t write short things because this is 2.4k words.

Anyway, I’ve never written Indruck before so here goes nothing! (I’m also still open for more prompts)

Duck hadn’t intended to get famous. He’d wanted to avoid it, actually. Back when he was six, the rest of his classmates wanted to be astronauts and rock stars and he had just wanted some peace and quiet. While most of them had grown out of their little kid aspirations, he’d slid into adulthood with the exact same life goals as he’d had when he was seven and still going by the name he’d been born with.

But apparently people thought the four hundred page novel about Fowler the Forest Ranger and his best friend June, the one he’d written as a joke while nineteen and high off his ass, was high art. And apparently he hadn’t shut Minerva’s visions out of his head as well as he’d wanted to, because the big money capitalists Fowler and June brought to justice weren’t…fictional.

Accidentally revealing an embezzlement/murder/stock-market-rigging conspiracy made you famous, as it turned out.

Made you famous, and made it so you’d need someone following you around all. The damn. Time.

Well, a normal person would need a bodyguard. Duck wasn’t normal, despite how much he wished he was, but he couldn’t go to his literary agent and say “hey, I’ve got super strength and a sword that talks, I think I’ve got any assassination attempts handled.” So he stayed quiet and pretended it wasn’t annoying as hell to have some dude over his shoulder when he was trying to maintain and educate about Monongahela National Forest.

He also pretended that the most annoying bodyguard – well, former bodyguard – of all hadn’t just accosted him on his way home from work.

“You’re going to die,” Indrid Cold said flatly, stepping into the streetlight like some kind of serial killer. Duck’s current bodyguard shifted, hand falling to the gun at his waist.

“Indrid, you can’t just say shit like that,” Duck said, holding up a hand. His bodyguard frowned – frowned more deeply, he was always frowning – but also relaxed. A little.

Indrid adjusted his glasses, knowing Indrid’s disdain for having to buy new things they were probably the same dinged up ones he’d worn six years ago, and stepped toward them.

“My apologies.” He didn’t sound sorry, but he at least put in the effort to sound like he kind of wanted to sound sorry. “But this is rather urgent.”

“It’s eight pm on a Tuesday, ‘drid.” Duck winced at the nickname. He hadn’t meant to let it slip out, because he had a No Letting On You Have Any Fondness Left For People That Ghost You policy, but it seemed old habits took half a decade to die. He took a deep breath. It didn’t help, so he took another one. That also didn’t help. He gave up keeping cool about all this, and settled for just clenching his jaw instead of turning on his heel and fleeing into his apartment.

You cannot flee from your responsibilities, a voice in his head that sounded exactly like Minerva whispered.

Fuck that, he thought back. Indrid Cold isn’t one of my responsibilities.

“That changes nothing,” Indrid insisted. “You’re going to die. Tonight. In ten minutes, to be exact.”

Duck couldn’t see Indrid’s eyes behind the mirrored red frames, but he could imagine the narrowing of his eyes. Could imagine how, if Duck’s bodyguard weren’t there, he’d probably let himself look worried.

God. Fucking Damnit.

“This one of your bad feelin’s? Or didja take up murder as a side gig?”

Indrid gave up the stony face bullshit and let out a huff of frustration. His casual stride lost all of its casual as he stomped over and stuck a bony finger into Duck’s chest.

“Duck Newton you know very well that when I-“ He turned to Duck’s bodyguard, glasses glinting ominously, “If you pull that gun on me, it will end with a bullet in my leg and another in your neck. That is not a threat, it’s a fact.”

Duck reached up and put a hand over Indrid’s, pushing it back down slowly. Indrid’s hands were still cold. There were still stains of something dark underneath his jagged fingernails.

“Bad feeling, then.”

“Eight minutes, Duck,” Indrid hissed. Indrid hissed. Okay, maybe Duck should take this a little seriously, if Indrid was going to sound like that.

“Okay,” Duck said, eloquently. “Okay. What do we do?”

Duck had been having a decent enough evening. Well, decent might’ve been a strong word for it. It was the same evening he had almost every day, which was how Duck liked his evenings, thank you very much. None of this ominous prophecy bullshit. That was one of the things Duck hadn’t missed.

At least Indrid wasn’t finishing his sentences. Duck’s current bodyguard didn’t do chill, and he was already looking a little perturbed about the whole “promising a gruesome death” thing.

Indrid swallowed, and Duck thought his expression was something approaching relief.

“Good. Good. I’m…glad you asked that.” Indrid glanced over his shoulder. “It wasn’t all that likely you’d ask that, and it’s the only way we make it out of this.”

Duck realized then that he still had his hand over Indrid’s. He couldn’t bring himself to pull away, and the chill of Indrid’s body felt more like home than Duck was comfortable with. Old habits take half a decade to die, which is embarrassing on account he’s the one that got dumped. He should be the one that was over this.

“Yeah, well. Much as this-“ Duck gestured at Indrid with his free hand, “has always been a pain in my ass…” He sighed. “You’re usually right.”

“I’m always right, Duck.”

Duck snorted, stepping away and taking the deep breath he was only just realizing he couldn’t take with Indrid so close.

“No, you’re not. Thinkin’ that way’s always been your damn problem.”

He sounded sadder than he’d meant to. He was going for pissed, because. Well. Duck’d found out Indrid was done with him when he went to sleep one night and woke up to find him gone. It’d taken thirty minutes of wondering whether he’d gone and died or something before Duck’s new bodyguard knocked on his door and informed him Indrid had asked his boss to be taken off the job.

But no, he was sad. And pissed. And pissed he was sad.

“You don’t understand,” Indrid said, like he was explaining his ability to see the future to some child and not somebody who fucking knew how it worked, who he’d told about it while lying in bed together on a warm Summer day, “It was necessary. You have no idea what would have…” Indrid froze, breath catching. “The timeline moved up. Five minutes. We can talk about this later.”

“Sir, are you sure we-“

“I’m not talking to you,” Indrid interrupted, not looking in the bodyguard’s direction. Then, his expression crumbled, and he sounded almost desperate as he said, “Please, Duck.”

Well, shit. He’d already meant to say yes, but now he…

“Yeah,” he said, then took a deep breath, despite the fact he knew it wouldn’t work.

Indrid grabbed his hand properly, dragging him away from his apartment.

“You can’t just-“

“-Drag him away?” Indrid called over his shoulder. “Yes, I can. Right, Duck?”

“It’s fine,” Duck replied. It wasn’t fine, of course. Duck wanted to go home and sleep, or fast forward to the part of the evening where Indrid talked to him about the past instead of the future, but this would have to do.

He could hear his bodyguard trailing after them as Indrid pushed him toward the open door of his car, parked just a few feet off from the street lamp he’d first appeared under. It was the same car that he’d owned six years ago. Jesus, had anything about him changed since then?

Duck tripped a little on the open door of the car, stumbling onto the seat. Then, faster than Duck would’ve thought Indrid could move, he slammed the door shut and darted into the driver’s seat, slamming it too. Duck heard the click of the lock and dove to try and pull it open.

“Child safety lock,” Indrid called back, and Duck barely resisted the urge to swear at him. Then he realized he didn’t have to, on account of-

“What the fuck Indrid?” Duck shouted as his bodyguard yanked at the door handle. He heard Indrid sigh from up front, his I have to do this for the greater good but I’m going to pretend it doesn’t affect me because I’m Indrid Cold and this is my burden to bear sigh. Then Indrid rolled down the window enough to address Duck’s bodyguard.

“I may have been a bit dishonest, Mr. Ryan. There’s no future where I let you into the car and you don’t, well. You know what’s happening in ten seconds, right?”

Then he rolled up the window.

“Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five. Four.”

An explosion rocked the car.

“Hm,” Indrid said, eyeing the flames as they died down. “It was early.”

“What the FUCK Indrid?”

“He was planning to take you up to your room and kill you.” Indrid’s voice cracked in a way that probably embarrassed him. “That was the insurance policy, in case you figured him out and tried to run.” Indrid smiled, teeth sharp and glinting, “Don’t worry, it was nothing personal on his part. It was a business transaction.”

“Yeah, thanks, that makes me feel just peachy.”

Duck reached up and trailed his hand down the window, down a spider web of cracks on the outside the window. It hadn’t gotten all the way through, and the glass felt smooth and unbroken beneath his fingers.

“I know it bothers you when people hate you,” Indrid said.

“Yeah, well-“

“-why did I come back then? I don’t hate you, Duck.”

This was a bad time to have this conversation. A bad place. He’d pictured this argument, a few years back, when he still thought about Indrid often enough for it to keep him up at night. It’d always happened in his apartment, when Indrid came home and actually apologized for disappearing. Which might’ve been a little unrealistic because Indrid Cold never-

“I’m sorry.”

Duck wasn’t sure he’d actually heard that, or if he was getting his old fantasies mixed in with real life. Then Indrid unbuckled his seatbelt, turning to sit backward on his seat and stare at Duck around his headrest. He shifted his glasses down his nose, orange eyes locked with Duck’s. Duck raised an eyebrow, and tried to keep his voice even.

“Sorry about what?”

Indrid blinked. Duck thought he might’ve been surprised.

“I…what? Duck, you-“

“I thought we were on the same page, before. But apparently not, since you skipped town. So, what is it you’re sorry about?”

“It was complicated, I had to-“

“You had to?” Duck laughed, it was an ugly noise, and he thought there might’ve been something that sounded like it might turn into crying mixed in.

“Yes, you have no idea what would have happened if-“

“No! I don’t! That’s how it goes when you don’t tell people things.” Duck didn’t like yelling. It reminded him too much of the scuffles that broke out when he used to hang out with the “bad kids” at school. The ones that always led to police sirens, and stern looks from Sheriff Nealy. Here he was, though, his voice echoing around Indrid’s old car and Indrid just staring at him like he hadn’t seen it coming. Duck winced, and managed to rein himself in. “You leavin’ ain’t the kind of shit that gives me visions, Indrid.”

Even if it’d felt like that kind of disaster, at the time.

“This isn’t how this is supposed to go.” Indrid looked away, hands rising to fiddle with his seatbelt. “When we got into the car, every future ended with you forgiving me, or with you leaving.” He tilted his head, streaky black-white hair falling in front of his face. Duck didn’t say one of those things was definitely going to happen. Then he’d have to pick.

“That ain’t an explanation.”

Indrid didn’t say anything, tilting his glasses back up over his eyes. Hiding. Duck resisted the urge to look out his window at his undoubtedly crispy bodyguard.

Duck loved the quiet of the woods. Maybe because it wasn’t real quiet, it was birds and the shifting of trees, and the crunching of his feet down a well-trodden path. This kind of quiet, though? Duck hated it.

“I was going to kill you,” Indrid said, just as Duck was getting the urge to get out and go inside and pretend this was a dream.

He still kind of wanted to do that, except maybe he’d add a bit of screaming into his pillow on at the end.

“You want to say that in a way that makes sense?”

“Each day, I saw a future where you died. Each future, it was because I…failed. I was too slow. I had a vision and it distracted me until after you took a bullet.” There was a hollowness in his voice that had Duck torn between reaching out and shifting as far to the other side of the car as he could.

“So you left.”

“If I left, the future was clear,” Indrid insisted. “Every time I thought about going to Kepler and seeing you, you were there, and perfectly fine without me. It was better-“

“Why didn’t you tell me, then?”

“You wouldn’t have…appreciated my reasoning. We would have fought. You wouldn’t have wanted me to leave, I wouldn’t have been able to convince you it was-“

“That doesn’t matter.” Harsher than Duck had intended, maybe. Not harsher than he wanted to be, but he was too tired to be as harsh as he wanted to be. “You think dropping me convinced me it was better?”

“It was easier for both of-“ He cut himself off and said, with Duck, “It was easier for you, Indrid.” Indrid let his forehead fall against the headrest and laughed, shoulders spasming with it. “Maybe so.”

Duck sagged back against his seat. He was too tired to be as harsh as he wanted to be. He was too tired to want to be as harsh as he wanted to be.

“Why’re you here, Indrid?”

Indrid shook his head, voice muffled from the headrest.

“I thought about coming here, and in half the futures I stopped for gas. I got here, and I was the one who found you after…” He gestured out the window. Another laugh. “Leaving didn’t do anything, did it?”

“I’ve almost died plenty of times, Indrid,” Duck said, slowly. “If it’s all the same, I’d’ve rather died with you, at least back then.”

“Now?”

Duck ground his teeth, thinking.

“Don’t know,” he said, finally, deciding as he said it.

“Would you like to find out?” Indrid asked. “If…you’d have me back.”

Duck didn’t smile. He’d figure out whether he wanted to smile at Indrid later, once they were inside and he could collapse into bed and figure out whether he’d invite Indrid to lay next to him. But he reached out for Indrid’s hand and Indrid took it, nails digging in as he held on for dear life.

He’d figure it out. They’d figure it out.

After all, Duck did need a new bodyguard.

[spacetimewraithwrites-archive]

quiet

(content warning: suicide)

Quiet

The silhouette at the window had his chin tilted upward slightly, just enough to expose the clean line of his jaw. His face turned to the glass, a patch of condensation growing and shrinking as he exhaled, silent. His chest rose and fell steadily, no one would know he was breathing if it couldn’t be seen firsthand. Eyes sharp and focused, pinned to something in the distance, pinned to nothing but the trees that went on for miles into the mountains.

Fat flakes of snow curtained the dismal sky, peppering the porch and accumulating on yesterday’s layer of white ice. And on the offering from the day before that, and the day before that. No wind, not a single branch waving in an uninvited breeze or the flap of a bird’s wings to rebel against the outside stillness.

Warren watched this as he gave up his posture to the cushions of the couch and kept a tight grip on his own hair. He bored through Thrive’s darkened outline with his gaze, his mind a blank slate, dropped to the curve of his throat, stuck there for quite a while. What a cruel god it was that gave him that throat with a body that wasn’t even authentic. And who was Warren to claim it? What manner of fate gave him that right?

The false doors in the cabin promised freedom they hadn’t seen in days. At that point, probably weeks. Thrive told him to stop counting and he heeded him immediately. Shadows lurked in the corners of the house and they couldn’t be shaken away. Bulbs couldn’t scatter them and they swallowed the light, rippling into fine mist if agitated.

The times they couldn’t bring themselves to speak reeked of failure, of bone-chilling misery no amount of quality time could dissolve. Warren watched Thrive stand in silence by the window. Obhelian spine straight and rigid, bathrobe over the form suit in such a way that hinted at how much he was afraid that getting truly comfortable would cost them their native reality. Lumping the responsibility onto his own shoulders again, dragging himself through a swamp of guilt.

“What is it that we’ve supposedly failed?”

At the sound of Warren’s hoarse voice cutting through the hours-old ringing quiet, Thrive let his eyes fall shut. The condensation shrank and his chest rose.

Hours of quiet. A search of the doors and windows for cracks, daily and always futile. Blasts of force from Thrive’s hands unable to make any sort of crack or a dent, daily and always futile. Sheets wrapped around fists, human and otherwise, jabbing into the glass in an attempt to create a shred of respite from captivity, daily and always futile. Thrive’s knuckles reddened from trying without the sheet. Daily. Taking knives to the wood of the walls. Always futile.

Stop counting the days, Thrive had advised, but it had been months.

Warren did note with a heavy heart as he combed his fingers through his beard in the bathroom and fought through the post-traumatic bog of being locked up again that he wasn’t even sure taking Thrive to bed while in the cabin wasn’t a desperate necessity in order to cling to sanity anymore. He ripped himself to shreds for that notion, stuffed a hand towel in his mouth to muffle the anguished sobs he tried very hard to suppress, wouldn’t allow the tears to actually leave his face. It didn’t matter; Thrive’s superior hearing paired with the close quarters of the cabin practically guaranteed his cover being blown.

Thrive took up stroking his hair to lull him to sleep every night. Unspeaking, eyes glued to one another until Warren couldn’t stay awake. It stopped the nightmares, anyway.

The next time Thrive stood at the window in his form suit and bathrobe, Warren got up from the couch, removed the terry cloth garment and peeled the skin-tight black suit from his shoulders. Draped the articles over the desk chair and watched him stand, naked as all, still unmoving from his spot.

A few times Warren had to bathe Thrive himself. Then Thrive would get embarrassed, snap out of whatever made him borderline comatose and refuse to let him care for him further. He stomped out of the bathroom and pretended to brainstorm ways to outsmart the Emmuli, to get them out of that cabin once and for all. But they both knew he gave up a while ago.

Warren wished he was back in Alaska. The real Alaska, the genuine cabin, with bitterly cold air he longed to breathe again. He had glimpses of it in his dreams, walking through the tranquil forest, Thrive close behind, guarding, ever vigilant. Unintelligible whispers passing their ears. He wondered at times if those weren’t dreams. He couldn’t bring himself to ask.

This was supposed to be a dream, too. A nightmare. Anything but reality. But what did reality even mean?

“I have a theory.”

Warren would’ve jumped ten feet out of his skin if he cared anymore. He addressed Thrive at the window yet again, his inhale deep and audible. “Yeah.”

A long enough stretch of even more of the quiet passed before Thrive opened his mouth to speak again. He still wouldn’t meet his stare.

“…You’re not going to like this.”

“Get me the fuck out of here, Thrive,” Warren blurted. “Please. Please. Just…anything. Fucking save me. Get us out of here.”

Thrive swallowed, jaw clenched. He smoothed his robe over his form suit, bracing himself.

The tension was immense.

“I think we’re going to have to die.”

Warren smiled. Not a trace of humor within it, not an ounce of happiness or pleasure. Irony, of course, but no mirth. He shook his head as if it would do anything against his utter disbelief. “What?”

“It…may be our only choice.”

“A suicide pact? That is so dark. Even for me. Even for the fucking survivor of an actual suicide attempt, that is fucking dark.”

“I think….” Thrive’s eyes flashed with a poor attempt at disconnect. “…The Emmuli will remove us of this hellscape if we beat them at their own game. They know the worst thing for either of us is watching each other suffer as much as we already have. They’ve been doing it this whole time, Warren. Everything from here to all of the constructs they’d built for us before, all of their illusions and their trickery. It was all to mentally manipulate us. If we show them we’d rather die than live like this….”

“What if that’s exactly what they want?” Warren snapped. “Huh? What if throwing in the towel is exactly what they want us to do? Don’t they want us dead, anyway?”

“They want us to hurt,” Thrive said, more loudly than he possibly intended. “They need us to feel what they’re doing, that’s what keeps them in power. They’ll try to keep us alive for as long as they can. They’re not going to let us die. And it may weaken them.”

Warren rubbed his hands on his knees. “And then what? They just bring us right back here to start this bullshit all over again?”

Thrive didn’t reply. He did meet Warren’s worried stare eventually, and the seriousness was staggering.

It began to dawn on Warren that this lethargic behavior, Thrive’s despondency, could not have been incited by their imprisonment. It started before this. Before they even woke up in the cabin again. After the last constructs, after they were last separated.

“…What did you see?” Warren asked tentatively. He didn’t want to know but his mouth asked before his brain could catch up. “What was the last thing they showed you?”

Thrive sighed.

Warren leaned forward, voice hardening. “…Thrive, how did you come up with this theory?”

“I’m not telling you now,” Thrive muttered, facing the window again. “…It wouldn’t do you any good. I’ll tell you…another time. When we leave this place.”

The quiet outside bled into the inside yet again. Warren began to doubt his mind for the five hundredth time. Wondered if it was really Thrive standing in front of him, if it was really his hands on his head every night, cupping his face or smoothing his hair down. If this version of him existed, the one that couldn’t contain what happened on Zliyagi within his body and poured it out of himself in torrents. If his walls were really breaking down, crashing around him, dropping massive chunks of material into oceans of grim thought.

“I can’t do it for you.”

Thrive nodded carefully. “I know.” He gritted his teeth. “…I’ll do it for both of us.”

Warren swore, dialing back his visceral reaction just in time to avoid upending the coffee table completely. He did manage however to scrape it across the floor, overwhelming the room with the grating sound of metal on wood. He disappeared into the bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him as he searched and pleaded for ways to stave off the manifesting panic attack. He resorted to an old favorite—cloth in the mouth. No tears, just gasping.

Thrive caught him that time. The door swung open and he stared at him from the threshold, eyes wide as Warren sat on the edge of the bed with a pillowcase dangling from between his jaws, in the midst of hyperventilation.

In the quiet, Thrive marched over to him, gathered him tight against his chest, squeezed him. Fingers digging into his shoulder, the back of his neck. They clutched painfully at each other, both shaking, one more violently than the other. Wordlessly agreeing to spend one final night together before they did anything else.

But when Warren’s eyes opened in the dark room in the middle of the night to the sight of Thrive fast asleep for the first time in months, he smiled.

Maybe this would work. And maybe it wouldn’t. But he got to spend the sunrise watching the peace on Thrive’s face. A serenity he couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen. It possibly predated him.

And when he opened his eyes for the second time several hours later, half-collapsed on the floor of the Ganymede bridge once again as Thrive blasted the door off its hinges from the corridor, he caught his breath and regarded his frantic obhelian in stunned silence. His neck was fine. Thrive used the doorframe to keep himself upright at the sight of Warren unharmed by the window until he couldn’t anymore and sank down onto the plush maroon carpet. They were both alive and intact. Breathing, pulses racing, alive.

The ship sailed on in quiet space, oblivious.

[jrubalcaba]

Can’t Help Falling In Love - Ch. 4

Can't Help Falling In Love Chapter 4- A Steve x OFC fanfiction

author: jrubalcaba

featuring: OFC Evelyn “Evie” Collins x Steve Rogers

word count: 1924 words

rating: PG

warnings: cussing

A/N: Thank you to @celeb-fess for being an awesome beta!

The elevator opened back at the living quarters. I stepped out, catching sight of Bruce, Bucky, Alice, and Romanoff in the kitchen. I walked up, grabbing the plate of food next to Bruce. “This looks good,” I thanked him, wolfing it down, trying to hurry before Steve came up here to find me.

“Whoa easy tiger. Food’s not gonna disappear. I'll see you back in the lab.” Bruce waved bye as he got in the elevator. I slowed down a bit when I realized that Steve obviously hadn't gotten in the elevator yet, which meant that he wouldn’t be up here for a while.

“Did Steve find you?” Bucky asked. I nodded my head, as my mouth was currently stuffed. “So, where is he?”

I swallowed quickly. “I locked him in one of the lab rooms and came up here alone. Pretty sure he's gonna be pissed when he finds me again,” I laughed, rinsing the plate off. Bucky looked impressed that I was able to do that, but also worried. “Don't worry. All he has to do is remember my birth date and he'll be able to get out.” He snorted which made me laugh.

“So, why did he want to find you so badly?” Bucky just wouldn't let it go.

“Because someone told him that I have feelings for him,” I explained, shooting a dirty look in Nat’s direction. She rolled her eyes and left the room. “He wanted to talk to me about it, but there's nothing that needs to be said.” Bucky raised an eyebrow at me.

“Why’s that?” he pressed. I pushed past him, fully intending on hiding in my room when he grabbed my arm and spun me around. “What if he feels the same? You ever think about that?” I glared at him.

“No, because I know he doesn't. He never will,” I sighed. He scrunched his face up in disbelief while Alice snorted.  

“Evie, I told you. He does like you, and now that he knows you like him back, you guys can finally be together,” Alice pointed out triumphantly. Bucky smirked at me before I turned to walk away.

“Where ya going?” he started to repeat, stepping in my path as I tried to go around him. I was getting more frustrated as he continued to impede me from escaping. I started to swing at him, hoping to make him back up and leave me be.

“Bucky for fuck’s sake leave her be! She wants to be left alone,” Alice shouted. Bucky ignored her, continuing to stand in my way.

“Fuck OFF, Barnes!” I snarled, landing a punch to his stomach. He recoiled, and I darted around him, but not before he recovered and caught my wrist, yanking me back around.

“Let her go for god's sake,” Alice said, laying her hand on Bucky’s arm. He blinked and looked at her, and it was like watching a deaf man hear for the first time. I don’t know the whole story about how they met, but I know she’s been by his side since the fall of SHIELD. Alice can get through to Bucky in ways that not even Steve can. She waited for him the entire time he was in cryo in Wakanda and when he followed Steve back home, she was right there with him. It makes me kinda jealous to see the connection and love they share because there’s no way I’d ever have that with Steve.

“Why do you think Steve would never feel the same way about you, huh?” He asked softly and I finally snapped.

“BECAUSE I'M NOT PEGGY FUCKIN’ CARTER!” I shouted at him. I stood there, my chest heaving as he looked at me, guilt strangely written all over his face. I saw Bucky and Alice’s eyes glance behind me as I heard heavy footsteps. Heart sinking, I slowly turned around and saw Steve standing there, looking ashamed.

“I think we’re going to leave you two alone,” Bucky mumbled, grabbing Alice and scurrying from the room. I stood there, waiting for Steve to speak.

“So…” he began. He looked so uncomfortable, so I decided to help him out.

“Don't. There's no need for you to say anything-”

“ATTENTION: ALL TEAM MEMBERS REPORT TO THE MEETING ROOM IMMEDIATELY. REPEAT, ALL TEAM MEMBERS REPORT TO THE MEETING ROOM IMMEDIATELY.” I glanced back at Steve, who had been steadily approaching me during the announcement. He was right in front of me, his eyes searching my face.

“Looks like you guys have a new mission, huh?” I asked, a little breathless at how close he was. He grabbed my chin and pulled it up, and I swear his eyes dropped down to my lips. Just then, Sam and Bucky came into the room.

“Yo, On Your Left, let's go.” And just like that, whatever we had was broken.

Sam Wilson, I swear you are the biggest cockblock that has ever existed because I think Steve was about to kiss me!

I stepped around Steve and headed towards my room. I heard what sounded like a punch, followed by an “Oww! What the hell was that for, Rogers?” before I shut my door. My chin was still tingling where Steve had held it, and as hard as I tried, I couldn't shake the thought of if he was about to kiss me. I sat down at my desk, pulling up my research from earlier and picking up where I left off, trying to ignore my imagination zooming into overdrive about what could have happened if we hadn't been interrupted.

After a few minutes, I received an incoming message from F.R.I.D.A.Y. on my screen. “Dr. Collins, the team is requesting that you join them. This mission concerns you and Dr. Banner.” What? That's a first.

“Uh, ok. Tell them I'll be right there,” I answered her. I logged off my computer and headed to the elevator. I've been to the meeting room a couple of times, but never during a mission briefing, so I'm a little apprehensive. I reached the floor and strode to the room, pausing just before I entered.

“Ah, Evie. Glad you could join us. Have a seat,” Tony greeted, indicating the open seat between him and Bruce. I sat down and he began to explain why I was needed. “We've come across information that HYDRA has been conducting their own Gamma Radiation research, and that they've made a breakthrough.” I felt my jaw drop. “If this is true, we're afraid that they might try to create an army of...Hulks, for lack of a better word.” I turned to Bruce, who looked sick.

“If they have found a way, we need to intercept the research and keep it out of their hands,” he finished for Tony. I looked between them in disbelief.

“How are we supposed to intercept the research? It's not like we can just waltz right in and download it,” I reasoned. Tony flashed his trademark smirk at me, and I felt dread fill me up inside. “That's exactly what we're going to do, aren't we?” I groaned, hiding my face in my hands. “Tony, I'm not special like any of you. I'm not trained for anything like that. I mean, I can shoot a gun, but that's about it,” I whined. He brushed that aside and began to draw up the teams.

“Rhodey, Thor, and I will be escorting Banner. Romanoff, Wilson, and Lang will be a backup team. Maximoff, Barton, and Vision will be another backup, which leaves Barnes and Rogers to escort you, Doc.” No. This can't be happening. I cannot be left with Steve. Bucky I can handle, but not Steve.

“Surely I don't need both of them for protection. I'm sure Sergeant Barnes is more than enough, so how about if Captain Rogers joins your team?” I could see Steve frown out of the corner of my eye as I tried my best to get away from him. Tony’s brow furrowed in confusion, before glancing over at Steve.

“Capsicle, didn't you say that she would feel safer with you around? Isn't that why you volunteered to be her protection detail?” Oh, what fresh hell is this? He asked? “We already discussed this before you got here, Evie. We had other plans in case you point blank refused to go, but we banked on you going if Bruce went.” Damn. They're good.

“Wait, why am I even needed though? You have Bruce to look over the research. What good what I do?” I was honestly confused as to why I was needed. Surely with Bruce there, I was just unnecessary.

“On the off chance that Dr. Banner can’t uh, control himself, you're the only one who can get the research.” Well, shit.

“Fine, I guess I'll go. As long as Bruce goes, I will too. When do we leave?” I guess I'm going on my first mission with the Avengers. This could be very good, or very bad.

“After we suit up. Cap, why don't you show Dr. Novice here what she’ll need?” Ok, I saw the wink this time. He's intentionally screwing with me. We all stood up from the table and left the room, and while everyone headed for the elevator, I took the stairs. It's nice taking them because I can take my time and think about things.

“Hey wait up!” I heard the door slam shut and feet thundering down the stairs. I looked over my shoulder and saw Bucky rushing to join me. “Mind if I walk with you?” I threw my hands up in a “whatever” gesture and we descended the flights in silence. “So, why don't you want Steve to be on our team? I figured you'd be giddy at the thought of being stuck with him.” I sighed before answering him.

“Bucky, it's not that I'm not excited about being with him. It's the fact that he doesn't actually want to do this. He's only doing this so he can let me down easy.” He scoffed and I glared at him.

“Evie, come on. Alice knows what she’s talking about. She’s made the joke a few times that he should go live in the forest because of the illegal amount of pining he’s done for you,” he shot back. I giggled at the last part before trailing off and sighing. 

Yeah, I wish that were the case. 

“He doesn't feel the same way as I do. His only options are to take me on a ‘pity date’ or to give me the old ‘I don't think of you that way, we’re just friends’ speech.” Bucky side-eyed me and I giggled again. “I'd die before letting him take me on a pity date and I already know that he doesn't feel the same, so there's nothing we need to discuss.”

“Whatever. Just so you know, I'm taking point on this mission, so you and him are stuck together. No take backs,” he laughed before jumping over the rail and falling a few flights before grabbing another handrail and hopping over.

“Cocksucker,” I growled. I cut through the floor I was at to get to the elevator. When I finally arrived at my door, I saw that Steve was waiting for me. “Alright Rogers, just tell me what I need and you can go,” I drawled, opening my door and entering my room. He followed me in and shut the door behind him, before spinning me around and pressing his lips to mine.

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[wlwhc]

Witches and Banshees - Lydia x Fem! reader x Morgana

Requested by @lilsebpotato (I luv u)

Words: 3355 - Warning: Almost dying - mention of blood

(A/N): I had to admit love that I struggle with this, just because I had to mix Teen wolf with Morgana , but I think I did it right, I have fun writing this. And you know me Alex,whatever request that has Katie in it , I’m more than happy to write it. I also learn how to put the “read more” thingy

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“Go to hell!”

“Already done it sweetheart,  and it was awesome”

Here’s she goes again . Lydia thought. Since you came back from the dead and told the rest of the pack that you had a great time in hell,  nothing came back to be same, at least for Lydia. You, on the other hand,  seem to be doing okay, like nothing happened,  but the truth is,  that you’re still dead. Putting a smile on everything was the best you could do after your trip to hell, to be more precise, to purgatory,  where all the supernatural beings end up when they die.

You thought that by being a witch, it would be easy to survive there, but it was not. The things that you did in that place to survive would make anyone be afraid of you, and let’s not talk about the things that the creatures did to you, or how many times you died just to appear in that place again, haunted by your own demons, and the ancient creatures.

Sanity was something had always been afraid to lose, being a witch takes a ton of it. You have seen things that no one would understand, yet you do. You have seen the past, and the future, from this and other worlds. You have to deal with nightmares about upcoming events,  events that maybe you will never be involved,  dreams about an entity’s giving you his wisdom, other witches from your bloodline punishing you for breaking the rules. Being a witch is hard, being a witch means that someday, sanity will no longer be with you.

You thought that the purgatory would be that place where you would lose your sanity, but surprisingly, you didn’t, or at least you haven’t realized yet. Lydia did. She noticed the dark circles below your eyes, the countless nights without sleep that you’re carrying. The disgusted face you put when she tries to make you eat. Your eyes are no longer filled with sparks, now they’re empty, without emotion. The enemies that you fight against will always end up dead. You didn’t care anymore about letting them live, you just slip their throats without caring. She noticed how paranoid you are as if someone would appear at any minute to attack you.

You’re not okay,  and she knows that maybe you will never get the chance to be, but she wanted to try,  to at least make you feel better.

The pack was always pretty obviously,  busy with other things,  actually,  the only people that are with you when problems are not knocking at their door are Stiles, Lydia, and Malia, maybe because of their caring nature. So when you came back,  the pack was happy,  they still are, but they didn’t stop to think about the big picture. Stiles and Lydia did. Stiles had tried to talk to you, trying to know how did you made to came back from the dead, or at least see how you were doing, but he only got a “don’t worry about it” and a smile. He would have push a little bit more,  but Scott had troubles with a new pack,  and stiles ran to help him.

A part of you was happy with it, some finally alone time. But when the “side-effects” of coming out of purgatory hit you, you beg for someone to be with you.

It started with a tiny nose bleed and headaches. No one noticed, you knew that when the headaches didn’t let you move the nosebleed was close. You would run away always, no one was suspicious of it. But it began to happen more often, and this time, your veins would turn black, your eyes would cry red tears, and the headache would be unbearable.

From being with the pack all the time, you end up lockdown in your house, with your bleeding nose stuck in ancient books, trying to find a solution or at least to know what the hell was happening to you. Again, no one got worried, they just thought you needed some alone time after all that you went through. But Lydia had that bad feeling, her legs lead her to your house one day, and without even knowing what was happening, she was already knocking at your door.

As best as you could,  you walked to the door, leaning your body against the walls, slowly but surely reaching the door.

“Who is it?” You asked,  trying to calm your breathing, the headache was not letting you think properly much less breath normally.

“U-uh is me y/n,  open up” Lydia said, somehow hearing your gasps for air. Her chest filling with worrisome.

“I-I’m busy Lyds… Come back later!” You tried to go back to your room but your legs give in, your chest feeling heavy, you could feel your veins turning black, it was like a burning sensation, your eyes were bleeding again, and this time you could swear someone was calling your name…but it wasn’t Lydia.

“y/n?… I’m going to get in anyway! Open the door” Lydia said, she is going to have a talk with you,  no matter if you want it or if you don’t .

Y/N…. Let her help dear…let her in…

The voice was oddly familiar,  but at this point,  you couldn’t care less about who the fuck was talking with you. You tried to get up, oh dear lord you tried. But your body was not responding, and something deep inside you thought that you were going straight back to hell.

“Y/n come on!…fine I’ll try with the window” Lydia knows that you always leave a window open so Malia can get in without breaking it. She rushes into the window,  struggling to get in.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this just because she’s a lazy mother-” And there you were. You eyes black,  veins just as dark, your body trembling with fear.

“L-Lyds” You manage to say. Your throat was burning, and you were having trouble not to gag at the taste of blood in your mouth.

To say that Lydia was horrified it’s a misunderstanding,  she was shocked,  scared,  upset,  she was a hurricane of emotions, but horrified don’t even reach the level of horror she was feeling.

“Oh my God” She gasps. She runs to your shaky figure on the floor,  her hands shaking, she could feel the tears already threatening to spill and that urge to scream.

“Y/N! W-what h-how” She didn’t know what to do,  you didn’t know what to do.

Yes you do

Oh,  that voice again. It’s weird,  that an unknown voice makes every hair in your body stand up in fear but also makes you feel at peace. About what the voice said,  you do not know what to do.

You do know dear… Just tried to remember

Remember what exactly?!

“Y/N don’t you die on me!  I just called Scott he’s on his way just-” The burning sensation in your veins now feels worst, a cry of pain could be heard, and Lydia couldn’t hold her sobs anymore, she had never felt so hopeless.

“Oh god,  what the hell is happening?!” Her shaky hands tried to wipe away the blood running down your cheeks, but it didn’t help much. Another cry of pain could be heard, and Lydia’s heart was crushing. This time she made you rest your head on her lap,  her fingers lost in your hair, trying to give you some comfort.

“Shhh, it’s o-okay,  everything i-it’s going to be fine-” You didn’t know if she was saying that to you or to herself.

“Ahhh! Lydia!” You cried out,  your body trembling with more intensity,  every nerve of your body was in pain.

“tell me what to do!” Lydia screams.

“please tell me what to do Y/n…Please” Her body shaking wiht sobs, her tears falling to your face.

Tell her my child… Tell her what to do

I don’t know what to do! I don’t know what the fuck is happening to me

Just say my name…I’ll help you just like you helped me…say it Y/N…

You were starting to recognize her voice, everything seems to make sense now, your eyes began to close, and in the distance, you could see a pair of golden eyes.

“Y/n…please don’t close your eyes-Y/N!” Lydia screams at you,  shaking you, trying to wake you to from whatever place you were.

“Mor…Morgan-” You begin to whisper, but Lydia couldn’t hear it right. The golden eyes were getting closer.

“What? Y/n what?!” Lydia said,  grabbing your face with her hands.

“Morgana” You whispered.

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Everything around you disappeared. Darkness was the only thing surrounding you, Lydia was gone.

“hello?” You asked in the darkness, your voice sounds as if you were underwater.

“I’m here y/n… There’s no need to fear…I promised to protect you,  to watch your back… And I intend to keep that promise” There she was,  Morgana,  evil witch for a few,  a corrupted soul for others,  but for you… Your mentor.

“am I dead?” You asked. Morgana laughs at this, her vibrant eyes shining.

“oh no dear,  your alive, but not conscious… Your friend is having the time of her life” Her smile turning into a devilish grin.

“oh Lyds” You begin to imagine how scared she may be.

“aren’t you curious dear?” Morgana asks,  walking slowly towards you.

“I-I am… What’s going on Morgana?” She gave you a sad smile this time, and with a flick of her hand,  the scenery surrounding you changed, from darkness to a beautiful forest.

“Sit down with me” She orders,  and you comply, not daring to disobey her.

“Remember the spell I told you to do in order to escape from purgatory?” You nod at her words.

“A part of me was used in that spell, my soul is now combined with yours little one” You stare at her piercing blue eyes.

“You have my power,  and my guidance too…that’s why I can speak to you whenever I want to”

“Yeah but…you’re way too powerful” You said, remembering the time when she showed you how powerful she is even in the purgatory.

“Exactly… I forgot that you’re… Just a human”

“I’m a witch” You said, your voice firm, proud. Morgana chuckles again.

“I know I know,  but your blood is not as pure as mine. Your blood has been washed away with the centuries, that means that you’re not as powerful as you should be, your body is not ready to such power as mine…that’s why its now reacting this way” She said,  her gaze focused on the big trees surrounding you.

“I’m overpowered?” You said,  more like a question than a statement.

“In did you are…but I’m working on it,  what you have to do now is wait for your body to get used to it”

“I’ll keep having this…attacks?” You said,  your hands shaking a little bit.

“I’m afraid so…but it will pass… Same as the nightmares,  I’ll help you” She said, a sad smile on her lips. Her hands now resting on yours, it felt… Right.

“Why?” You asked

“I’ve told you” She said,  avoiding your gaze.

“It doesn’t make sense, I’ve never help you-I-I mean I remember you but I don’t know from where! and I know you’re my mentor but-” You said, trying to remember but it was impossible.

“You helped me a long time ago… In one of your past lifes, we were….closed friends” She said, a said smile plastered on her face.

“you should go back now, your friends are worried about you…we will meet again” She said, disappearing through the woods, leaving you alone.

“Wait!” You scream , but it was too late, your vision became blurry and in a blink of a eye…you were out again.

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“Lydia calm down, she’s alive, she’s just in some kind of trance-”

You could hear Stiles trying to calm Lydia. You tried to move or at least open your eyes, but it seems that your body wasn’t ready to wake up yet.

“she wasn’t breathing!”

“we just need to wait-”

“for how long?!”

Is she crying?

“look, we can stay here screaming at each other or we can-”

That’s definitely Scott’s voice.

“what? what we can do? you’re too busy with that new pack to even worry about her, she came back from hell! and you didn’t even stop to think the consequences of coming back from the dead-”

“she said she was fine!” Scott’s voice breaks a little.

Ugh, you need to wake up or they’re going to scream at each other for god’s now how long.

“and you believed her?!”

“I’m sorry okay! I’m sorry!”

Why is everyone crying?-That’s it, my body better start working now or-Oh…there it goes. Your hands start moving slowly, finger twitching. The dark veins were disappearing, and when you finally opened your eyes, your beautiful Y/E/C eyes could be seen.

“Guys stop!…she’s waking up”

You could see Stiles on your right side, his usual worried face staring at you. Lydia was on your right side, her eyes red and puffy, she was holding your hand with a strong grip.

“Oh thank god-Y/N are you with us?“ You turn your gaze to the end of what you think is a bed, a pair of big puppy eyes staring at you, his eyes holding a few tears.

“Ugh” You mumbled when you tried to move, your whole body hurt, the burning sensation in your limbs was slowly dissipating, your body was burning.

“Stiles give me that” Stiles handed Lydia a piece of cloth, she dumped in cold water and puts it on your forehead. The cold piece of cloth soothing your burning skin, a think layer of sweat was covering your whole body.

“You gave us a huge heart attack” Stiles said, sighing in relief and his friend was okay.

“Y/N…what happened? can you tell us what’s going on” Stiles asks, trying to keep his voice calm.

“I…where am i?” You asked, while Lydia dumped the piece of cloth in the cold water.

“At the vet clinic, Deaton will be here at any minute now” Scott said.

“That’s no necessary-” You said, trying to get up but a pair of hand on your shoulders stop you.

“wow wow you need to rest, you almost die …again” Stiles said.

Listen to him…you’re still weak

“It’s okay, it happens sometimes-” You said, still a little dizzy.

“So this had has been going on for some time now?! why you didn’t tell us?” Lydia said, biting her lip at the end of her sentence, trying not to smack you for being such an idiot and not ask for her help. It hurt her, you were suffering, she could have help.

“I..I was dead…I should not have returned here-” You tried to explain, your head was still foggy, and shocked for the encounter with …Morgana.

“oh no, you pissed off the witches again?!” Stiles said, remembering the time that you break the nature rules with dark magic, and end up hunted by angry witches.

“Stiles shut up” Lydia said, putting the cold cloth on your forehead again, her hand caressing your cheek.

“No no, they let me do the spell to come back, but I had to consume a big part of their leader’s power, but it’s too much-”

“and your body can’t take it, you’re lucky you’re still in one piece” Deaton said, interrupting you.

“Hey Deaton” You said, earning a smile from him. He was holding a book on his hands, probably where he was searching for a solution to help you.

“Only ancient and highly powerful witches have revived…how did you steal such a big power?” He asked you, The Pack’s eyes were now on you.

“I didn’t steal it….she gave it to me” You said, remembering Morgana on the other side.

“A big powerfull witch, just shake your hand and say ‘Oh hey! take my power I don’t need it anymore!’ , just like that? no tricks?” Stiles said, her sarcasm dripping out of his mouth with ease

“it’s a long story-” You said sighing. Lydia grabs your hands, squeezing it softly. You turn your gaze to her, smiling softly at her. You know that when you get out of this place, she’s going to have a talk with you, probably a few punches too.

prrr prrr prr prrr  (this is how I think a cellphone vibration sounds, lol)

“That must be Malia, I-” Scott’s said, grabbing his phone from his pocket.

“Go, I’ll take care of her” Lydia said, not even looking at him. She was still upset, he is the alfa, he should take more care of you, you’re part of the pack too, and you had saved his ass countless times. While Lydia was angry at him, you were angry at yourself. You know that Scott is having trouble with this new pack, the last that you want to be is a burden.

Oh dear…you’re their family..don’t forget that You heard Morgana’s voice in your head

“I’ll stay too” Stiles said, grabbing a chair to sit by your side. He already helped Scott, now you need his help, and you can bet your ass he is going to stay by your side until you’re okay. Scott answers his phone.

“…Malia? yeah…sure…I actually am in a bad situation here…Y/N almost died-don’t scream! …yeah …we’re at Deaton’s-” Malia cut the phone call when Scott told her where were you, she had begun to walk to Scott’s house when She heard the words “Y/n almost died”. The young were-coyote was beyond worried for her friend.

Seems like the whole pack is going to come here, great, they’re going to waste their time with you. Scott saves his phone in his pocket and grabs a chair too, sitting at the end of the bed, he sends you a smile.

“What about the new pack?” You asked. Scott could easily smell the guilt on you.

“That can wait, you’re part of this pack and our friend…you come first” He said, you could feel Lydia’s grip on you tighten, and a soft squeeze on your shoulder by Stile’s hand.

“Now…tell us all about this witch-” Lydia said, your three friends waiting for your explication.

“Morgana…her name is Morgana” You said softly and somehow, you could feel Morgana smile at the tone that you used to call her. But you also saw Deaton’s smile disappeared.

“Oh…that’s not good”

[oldmangilmore-blog]

So this is the beginning of my original fiction story. I decided to name it “Stolen Light” for now. We’ll see how it goes. p.s. gonna include a simple, quick-made map soon.

CHAPTER 1

In the distant region of Lucudiana lies the peaceful village of Mattreford. Not too far from there lies the Grimwood forest. Walking along the main road of the forest are two of our heroes Haiba and Shieru.

-  Hey Haiba! The wheather is BE-A-UTIFUL!! Let's go to the beach!!! - Shieru yelled with joy.

Haiba didn't answer just let out an angry groan.

- Ohhh come on Tiger paws!! Can't you be yourself for once and enjoy life? -- she shrugged with a grin.

- Can you frikin' get off my back for once!?!? I don't do sunny beaches!! -- he yelled out and crossed his arms

- You've been like that ever since we left Asur.

Haiba silently closes his eyes and turns away.

- You know... It's better this way...

Haiba's face turned darker with every word Shieru said.

- She was out of your league, dear... She's kind, loving, sweet and you... Well.. You're...

- Evil... -- he whispered while looking down.

- No I wouldn't say evil... more like misunderstood. -- Shieru smiles trying to cheer him up, but Haiba just stays quiet.

- Haib, what's wrong..? Want to talk about it?

- No. I'm fine.. Just sulking in my own thoughts.. -- he said while his face turned from angry to sad

Shieru jumps on Haiba:

- Ohh come on sour puss, smile for the Shieru! -- she said while squeezing his neck with her arms.

- glppphhhh.. Can't.... Breathe.... -- he flapped his hands as he turned blue

- Ayy, sorry. So what do you say, shall we go to the beach?

- Alright, alright, jeez..

- YAAAASS!!! -- she jumps in the air in joy.

- But don't get too excited.. I sense someone coming our way. Their aura feels weak but it might be suppressed so be on your guard -- his face turned serious as he put his hood on.

- Hmm. I will. -- she smirked and clenched her fists. -- Finally some action!! God.. I hope Haiba doesn't overdo it.. Knowing that he is he might kill a completely innocent person. -- she thought.

After realizing that someone is approaching them they quickly hid in the nearby bushes.

An unsuspecting traveler is making his way through the rocky road of Grimwood forest.

The traveler raises both hands in the air and yawns:

- Aw yeah! This is the life. Escaping my father was the best idea ever. Now I just need to find Master Sho  in Asur and ask him to teach me how to master my aura and become a strong warrior. -- Looks up to the sky -- I need to become strong... I need to show my father that I'm no weakling... --The young boy kept day-dreaming while his carriage rolled down the rocky road.

- Ohh, it's just a handsome boy. He's probably traveling to Asur 'cause there are no other villages in that direction. -- Shieru mumbled with the look of relief in her face. - Well besides Breder...

- It's.. Him.. It's his son.. - Haiba's face turned dark and his shadow aura showed up.

- Haiba.. Why are you powering up..!? - Haib??? -- Shieru yelled with desperation in her voice

Haiba riled up his aura even more and his body was covered in shadows. He looked like a demon. His eyes were blue as he changed, but then they turned red and he jumped out of hiding.

- WHAT ARE YOU DOING YOU IDIOT!?! - Shieru screamed.

Haiba formed a buster sword out of his shadow aura while in mid air. The young boy opened his eyes because something blocked the sun for him. When he opened them he saw a dark shadowy figure flying right towards his carriage:

- What the.. -- as the young boy said that Haiba furiously slashed his sword and shattered the carriage into pieces. The boy fell on his back and when he opened his eyes to see what's going on he saw a hooded dark figure cowered in shadows and standing right in front of him. -Demon.. A demon.. - the boy whispered as his face turned white and he started shaking in fear. The dark figure slowly turned his head and looked into the boys face. The only thing the boy saw was a red glowing eye in a shadowy hood.

- You... You are the son of Arthas.. the man who led the destruction of Breder and the man responsible for Maya's death... I will send you back to him in pieces!!! --  Haiba yelled as he jumped for the killing blow. - You die here, boy!!! - he shouted with blood-thirsty eyes. The boy covered his eyes with his hand and started crying to the heavens for help.

As soon as Haiba's sword reached the boy a bright yellow light flashed and shined over the whole forest.

- What the.. - the boy opened his eyes and was surprised to see he is still alive.

- Quit getting in my way... for fucks sake Shieru.. -- Haiba spoke through his teeth as he was still pushing his sword along the shield barrier that Shieru covered the boy with.

- He will not die here. Not now and not by your hand.. -- Shieru said while giving her all to hold back Haiba's attack. - Now.. Get back!! - She yells and pushes Haiba away with the barrier.

Haiba's aura is reduced and his buster sword disappears. He grabs hold of himself in mid air and lands on his feet. He stays in his demon form, but his eyes go from red to light blue.

- If you don't get out of my way.. -- even thicker shadows surround his body -- then... - forms a scythe from the shadows -- you'll die with him!!!! - he shouted. As he stood there preparing for an attack Shieru started glowing. The air arround her got warm and sparkles started rising up. The black mist covering Haiba grew thicker and thicker every second and even the grass under his feet started dying.

- So be it.. - he whispered and his body bursted into shadows. He appeared right in front of Shieru and the boy in the blink of an eye and slashed his scythe right through Shieru and the boy. After being cut in half Shieru only giggled. Both hers and the boy's bodies turned into golden sparks and were scattered by the wind.

- Hmm. -- He smirked - Shieru you clever bastard.. You took my prize away from me once again... -- The shadow aura around him faded and the skull on the scythe started talking.

- Idiot why the hell did you summon me if you didn't intend to kill anyone!?! - the skull on the scythe started raging in a squeaky voice.

- Shut up. My desire to kill was strong.

-Like hell it wasn't. Did you forget that I can sense your true emotions, loser ?? I know that right after Shieru stepped in you changed your mind about killing the boy..

-  Ugh..

- Anyway.. I still sense your thirst for battle. You told me that you changed your way after you left the Da... -- gets interrupted

- That's enough! -- Haiba unsummons the scythe and his shadow aura disappears. - Sigh.. Well I bet she'll be at the beach, so I'm best be on my way... -- he puts the hood back on and continues to travel to Mattreford .

MEANWHILE

On the mountaintop of Mount-Grimwood. The scattered sparkles gather on the peak of the mountain. It transforms Shieru and the boy back to normal. The boy lays on the ground staring at Shieru with uncertainty in his eyes.

- Are you.. The sky Goddess from the Sky Brotherhood?? -- the boy's eyes start to sparkle and his face just shines from curiosity.

- Ayyy, that's what they called me back in the day.. Now it's just Shieru - she giggles while scratching her head.

- I see. Why did you leave the order? Did something happ...

- Heyyy enough questions for now, kid. How 'bout you treat me to a drink in the "Black Rose"?

- Well I guess it's the least I can do to repay you..

- FAN-TASTIC! Let's go handsome! -- she grabs the boy by his hand and runs towards the village. - Come on! I still want to make it to the beach before the sunset.

- Wow, I imagined the sky Goddess like a fierce warrior which shows no emotion, but this.. I'm confused..

A few hours later in the Black Rose tavern

Shieru jogs down the drink:

- Ahhh this is the life 'eyy?

- How can she drink that fast? It's already her 5th drink.. - he thinks with his jaw dropped. - Umm.. Lady Shieru?.. - he starts talking full of uncertainty. - Can I... ask you something..?

- Sure thing - she replies while stuffing her face with all the food that's on the table

- How did you meet that man.. The Demons descent of Raven Claw ? Isn't he an enemy of your guild?

- Ahh that's a fine question, lad -- she said while she wiped her mouth with her sleeve. - You see.. he is no longer a member of Raven Claw . And I am no longer a member of the Sky Brotherhood.

- Whaaat?? How come? What happened?? -- he jumped from his seat.

- Well.. It all happened 2 years ago..

SHIERU'S MEMORY

The great war was still taking place. I was given an assignment to lead a battalion of troops to reinforce our camp on the far east side of the battlefield. I gathered my men and rolled out  to help our brethren fight back the Raven Claw  forces. When we reached our destination I was shocked. The camp was already destroyed. We found only 4 survivors. Out of 80 soldiers defending the camp those lucky 4 survived just because fortune smiled over them. 3 of them were unconscious, but the one that could talk only repeated one word:

-Demon... - the man said with a pale face and his eyes full of fear.

Soon after we arrived a messenger caught up to us and informed me about a nearby Raven Claw  camp. Filled with hatred and rage I sent the messenger to the nearest Brotherhood encampment to call for reinforcements, gathered my men and head out to lay waste to the Raven Claw  camp. Little did I know that HE was waiting for me there.

When we approached their camp all defense posts were empty and the camp gate was open. My lieutenant advised me to wait for backup, but since I was still furious with what I saw back in our camp I quickly gave the order to attack. When we entered the camp all the Raven Claw  soldiers were in their battle formation and ready to fight and surrounded by them was him... Haiba. The one you refer to as the Demons descend. Although we had the advantage in numbers I still sensed a light odor of fear coming from my men.

Putting all reason aside I shouted " ATTACK!!!! " and the battle began. As my men engaged the other pawns I focused my attention towards him alone. As soon as he saw my determination he smiled at me and attacked. I didn't even feel how he disappeared and reappeared behind me in the blink of an eye, later on I learned that this technique is called the shadow step. Luckily I was able to block that attack. We clashed for a few hours. After a while I noticed that even though my men are winning the battle Haiba is cutting them down while attacking me. When I realized that I was powerless to do anything because his attacks were too constant to ignore and help my men. I soon found myself surrounded by a pile of dead bodies and Haiba standing right in front of me. It was just me and him. One on one. As I tried to catch my breath after a series of attacks that he just threw at me, he looked around and laughed.

- You seem tired, Sky Maiden.. Need a break? - he said while smiling like the devil himself. - Just give up, you and your puny guild can't win this war! We of the Raven Claw  will destroy any trace of your Brotherhood and the Alliance. You should just give up...

- And watch my friends suffer the consequences!? NEVER!! -- I yelled. - I will not give up to the likes of you. My light will triumph over your darkness!!

- Ohh please, show me your strength then. - he taunted me with a sarcastic tone.

Then I fixed up my armor and changed the shield and sword into a spear.

The boy interrupts:

- OHHH the spear that can materialize light and use it as a weapon!?

Shieru smacks the boy down with her fist:

- Yes the same one. It's rude to interrupt ya'know.

- Ouch.... Sorry... - he apologized while scratching the back of his head.

- As I was saying..

When I changed my weapon I started attacking him. I soon realized that he was also having a hard time fighting against me because he changed battle gear at least 3 times while we fought. Then I understood.. That our fight could drag on for days.. But I was relieved when I saw my reinforcements arrive. When Haiba turned around he saw that the reinforcement unit was lead by General Strauss himself, a great warrior who's strength surpasses my own. Then he reduced his shadow aura, un-summoned the dual blades that he was using at that moment and surrendered.

After we got back to stronghold 7 I was quickly sent to the medic tent, but left there soon afterwards when they saw that I already used my powers to heal myself. I went to see the General and ask him what will we do with Haiba. He was a war prisoner after all. I was shocked when the General gave the order to execute him immediately. He claimed that Haiba was too big of a threat to take as a prisoner and he committed too many crimes and has to pay for them. Even though I suggested that he can be kept as prisoner under my supervision the general's mind was made up. He would have Haiba executed immediately. When he heard the sentence he only smiled.

- Sky Goddess.. What's your name? -- he asked me.

- It's Shieru.. -- I replied with tears in my face.

- Don't cry over me Shieru.. We're enemies. I don't want someone from the Sky Brotherhood to pity me..

The room was silent for a moment.

- And besides.. I'm not gonna be executed today, they're already here to bail me out of here - he looked at me with a confident smile

- What do you.. - I whispered.

- WHAT WAS THAT YOU SCUM!? - the general yelled

Then we heard a loud explosion outside and came out only to see that our base was already taken over by Raven Claw  forces. They were led by two men from the Death knight unit that Haiba was part of. Haiba was originally one of the three demons of Ashgard, but during the war they were all assigned to separate units to support Raven Claw's forces on several fronts. Sly and Varren the two brothers from the death knight unit. They were both extremely powerful. Me, the general and somewhat around 15 other soldiers were captured as prisoners after a quick fight, all the others died in battle. Only the general stood any chance against them as I was still recovering from my fight with Haiba. However, even he was overpowered in a two-on-one battle. Of course, they only needed the general to negotiate with our superiors. Varren orderen to execute the remaining prisoners, but Haiba.. He didn't allow that.

- No, Varren. Let the others go. They fought well. They deserve to live. At least for a little while. - he said that while he looked at me.

- Hmm. Fine. Just know that you'll answer to the master for this, not me.. - Varren replied.

Then we were released. They only took General Strauss. After returning to the Capital we had to file a report on what happened. I overheard some of the officers discussing how we should've executed Haiba right there on the spot without bothering to bring him back to the camp. I was furious to hear that they would take a man's life without consideration like that. A few weeks later I left the Sky Brotherhood guild and went rogue. A few days have passed when I heard news that Haiba was kicked out of Raven Claw  for letting us live. Now that I had a chance to talk with him I know that they didn't kick him out, but they gave him a choice, to find me and finish the job or to leave the guild, I'm glad he didn't choose the first option. Anyway.. soon after that I set out on a quest to find him. It took me almost 2 years or so to catch his trail, because after he abandoned the guild he became a wanderer. I caught up with him in the Valley of Death a few months back. When I approached him all he did was stare at me. His face showed no emotions. I just went ahead and said hi, started talking to him, but then I felt him riling up his aura. That was a sign that he wanted to fight.

The boy interrupts again.

- AND DID YOU??

Shieru glares at the boy with fire in her eyes. The boy shuts up and listens.

Of course we did. We dueled for 2 days straight. However, there was no clear victor. I noticed that he enjoyed fighting me and his frown turned into a playful smile. Kind of. I suggested we end our fight and go grab something to eat. I don't know what got into me. I would never suggest something like that while in a battle, but perhaps I just started to consider him a friend and that's what made me feel easy around him. I was surprised when he turned off his aura smiled and said " Yeah sure, I'm starving."

When we were eating I asked about him, his life and stuff and we kind of bonded. Then I asked if I could join him in his travels. He said no at first, but after I whined about it for 2 hours straight he let me join him.

BACK IN THE TAVERN

-And that is how I met Haiba.

- Wow.. He sounds like a nice guy when you describe him..

- He actually is a nice guy. Only he isn't too keen to show it to the public, haha! Anyhow.. I have to go now, I'm already late.

- Ohh I see.. I just don't know how I will reach Asur and find Master Sho.

- Why do you need that old geezer?

- I want him to train me. I want to be strong and show my father that I am not a good for nothing.

- Your father is one of the independent landlords that made an alliance with the   Raven Claw, right?

- Yes... That must be the reason that Demon attacked me.. He must know who's son I am. And also, my father has made it further up in the ranks, now he is a member of the Capital's high council.. If more people knew who I was they would kidnap me for ransom, but knowing my father, he would just let me die.

- Don't worry, kid. I'll talk with Haiba. Listen, meet me at the old sawmill tomorrow at noon, okay?

- Okay, but what's this all about?

- Don't ask questions, just be there, I have a surprise for ya. -- Shieru winks at the boy.

- Alright got to go, see ya tomorow, kid. Ohh by the way, what's your name?

- Darius, my name is Darius - he smiled at me.

- That's a nice name, Darius, see ya.

Shieru left the tavern leaving Darius to pay the bill for all the food that she ate.

 AN HOUR LATER AT THE BEACH

Haiba naps on the beach with only his swimming trunks. Shieru pokes his forehead.

- Wakey, wakey sleepy head.

He frowns and opens up one eye.

- Do that again and you're dead - he said and a moment of silence follows.

Shieru pokes the forehead again.

- That's it you're dead - Haiba screams furiously.

He chases Shieru along the beach in circles. Shieru trips over Haiba's bag and falls down. He stops and bursts with laughter.

- Hahahahahahaha, you klutz. - he laughed holding his stomach.

- Heheh, glad to see you're in a good mood. But dang it... I missed our day at the beach..

- No big deal, you made it to see the sunset though.

- Ayyyy, yes I did - she replies while changing the dress to a swimsuit and laying down in Haiba's spot.

- Umm.. that's my spot..

- It was your spot.

Haiba lets out an angry groan.

- Calm down tiger paws... there's plenty of room.

Haiba sits down.

- Listen, the boy that you tried to kill..

- He's the son of that fucker that had  Breder destroyed..!

- Yes, but he's keen on getting stronger to prove himself to his father and maybe put a stop to his crimes.

Haib stays silent

- He tried to go to Asur  to find someone to teach him how to master his inner strength and become stronger, but you wrecked his carriage. Soooo... I thought it would be a good idea if we trained him.

- ABSOLUTELY NOT!!!!

- Ohh come on Haib.. He needs help..

- I am not training anyone... -- Haiba turns away and crosses his arms. Shieru grabs him by the shoulder:

- Come on you big piss baby, be a man. I will teach him the basic stuff and all the theory and you can teach him battle skills.

Haiba stays quiet

- It's what Maya  would've wanted... You do know she wanted you to quit the killing and take up babysitting, here's your chance.

- Fine.. I'll do it. But don't expect me to go easy on that brat. If he can't handle my training he can get lost.

- Thanks lots Haib!!! I swear you will not regret it !! - she yells happily while wrapping her hands around his neck and squeezing him.

- I regret it already! -- he coughs while turning blue.

TO BE CONTINUED...

[nomorelonelydays]

Last night, I was lying down in my pile of garbage and I thought to myself, 'hey, self -- what about hockey players as various mythical creatures?" So if you're down to indulge the idea, I've got a couple thoughts? Like, for one, Nephilim Sidney, AKA: angelic strategic/militaristic leadership capabilities, devotion and loyalty, strong moral compass, and unbelievable beauty, BUT human goose honk laugh, sense of humor, occasional lack of gracefulness, and fully functioning sex drive, all (1/11)

More under cut. Like a lot more. But it’s an epic so highly recommend

rolled into one. Ever since he was just a kid, people have debated whether being a Nephilim means he gets some kind of unfair advantage, or if it just means he's got a huge, self-righteous stick up his ass -- disregarding the fact that, even if he does have angel blood, Sidney is still partially human, with fully human feelings. Then, because I am the Angst Gremlin, Gremlin of the Angst, Geno, with his relaxing charm, easy confidence, clever hands, even cleverer tongue, and, quite frankly,(2/11)

really big dick, is an incubus. While technically still a demon, he's not really into filleting the souls of the innocent or any medieval shit like that, he just gets laid a lot and needs sex energy to stay alive. Regardless, everyone is on edge for Sid and Geno to meet, hoping beyond hope that the two young men the future of the Pens Organization is riding on don't want to kill each other on sight. So, people take it as a pretty big surprise when they get along fine. Sid keeps his cross (3/11)

necklace on under the collars of his shirts (just in case they'd bump into each other), their hotel rooms are always on opposite ends of the hall (because Geno would like to be respectful and he knows that his post-game feedings can occasionally be a little loud), Sidney keeps a special lid on his water bottle so it doesn't get confused with anyone else's -- especially Geno's (we'll say that holy water is basically the electrolyte-infused gatorade version of water for Sidney, so that's (4/11)

what he drinks), and, Geno does all pre-game snacking in locked, empty training rooms (because "pre-game snacking" usually means calling one of his routine hookups and making them orgasm via phone sex, and even if he sometimes does it in Russian, it'd be rude to do it in front of everyone, and extra rude to do it in front of Sid). The first time they're so hyped from a victory that they spontaneously hug each other while undressing in the locker room, they both worry that they hurt each (5/11)other somehow, before realizing that they're fine, and Sid's just like, "It felt really good, actually. A lot of the time, people hold me at a distance to be respectful -- and I appreciate it -- but it's nice to just feel normal." However, Sid didn't realize that Geno was holding back with physical contact as much as he was, that saying what he said would mean G would start touching him as much as he touches everyone else, or that, when allowed, G wound up touching people /a lot/. Or, how (6/11)

all of the little casual touches would drag the whole "being in love with Geno" thing to the forefront of Sid's mind. Eventually, when they're squeezed next to each other in a booth at a club, and G clasps his hand around Sid's thigh while laughing at a joke he'd made, Sid cracks. In a voice more nervous and less seductive than he was intending, he asks Geno if he likes touching him, and when Geno responds with, "Why you ask, Sid?" he powers on to say that if he doesn't mind touching him, (7/11)he's in his mid-twenties and has never been able to go through with losing his virginity because he just gets so worked up about it and freaks, but he trusts Geno more than anyone else, and, "if you'd be okay with it... you could make it easier for me to, well... you know... and you'd get a meal out of it?" But then G just looks at him sadly and shakes his head, and Sid feels more and more broken and nauseous by the second -- only, the hurt fades into confusion when Geno amends, "Not (8/11)because I don't want, Sid. Just... afterwards, for me, trying to feed... it would be like swallow sewer water after drinking champagne from Stanley Cup." Geno pauses, giving a wry smirk, before adding, "You're like 'Holy Grail.'" And Sid's in shock, but musters every last ounce of angelic bravery to say, "I've been in love with you for a really long time, so maybe, if you feel the same, it wouldn't be just once." And cue amazing sex. Sidenotes: Flower is most certainly a lovable, trouble- (9/11)

making imp, Tanger's the vampire who's low key really grumpy over the fact that he'll never get to see how hot he is, Olli owes all of his height to the human side of his family, because the other side are all haltijas (a type of helpful finnish gnome that needs to be treated with love and regularly fed), Conor gets pouty about having a mix of pixie and leprechaun blood, because he's just short and with how often he's accidentally walked in on Sid and Geno boning/nearly boning, no way in (10/11)hell is luck on his side, and Jake's usually cool about being an elf until the holidays come around and every chirp he gets is a quote from the 2003 Will Ferrell movie. (11/11)

Also, I have been acting in the manner of an anon-ask spiders georg, and have already harassed you with enough content for an eternity, but... a Nicky/Ovi Footnote: Ovi is a Russian species of yeti, and he sites his lineage whenever an annoying interviewer asks him about the streaks of grey and white in his hair, "You know Russia -- there is much snow, so yetis are grey. Is fine," (only, while grey is normal, white coloring for Siberian yetis is a sign of stress and premature aging, (1/7)y'know, like what happens when someone is repeatedly blamed for their franchise's inability to win things, but that's none of my business *insert the meme of kermit drinking tea*). Nicklas Backstrom is not publicly known to be a non-humanoid, however, from the second Ovi saw the lively, mesmerizing green of his eyes, and heard the musical lilt to his voice, he knew, there was just something about Nicky. Even after multiple incidences of Nicky scoring a goal in a game, Ovi definitely (2/7)

seeing Nicky present in the locker room, Nicky conveniently disappearing right as the media comes to talk with him, and Ovi running into a decorative ficus, thinking, 'when the fuck did this tree get here?' he doesn't register what's going on, but whatever, because after convincing Nicky to go out to dinner with him once a week, they work up to eating together five nights a week, then to gentle, nervous kisses, followed by not-so-gentle-or-nervous making out, and by the time his first (3/7)

sight upon waking up every morning is the bare expanse of Nicky's back or his head of golden hair resting easily against a pillow, there's so much love in his heart that there really isn't any space left to wonder what Nicky is or isn't. However, it takes one incident of Nicky practically jumping his bones while they stumble into the hotel elevator, both of them not realizing their teammate TJ is in said elevator, and TJ commenting, "Nicky the nympho, way to get it," for Alex's brain to (4/7)

put the pieces together and start screaming, "holy!!! fucking!!! shit!!! nicky's a nymph!!! of course he's a nymph!!! the world makes sense again and this doesn't do a single fucking thing to change how intensely i love him, but it was an astounding epiphany!!!" (or something like that) while he just gets this look of amazement on his face and silently mouths, "Nymph?" to Nicky. When he stops wanting to die from embarrassment, in the privacy of their hotel room, Nicky confirms it, and (5/7)

begrudgingly agrees to stop turning into a tree to avoid media scrums, so long as Alex swoops in to guide the attention away from him if it goes over three minutes. After the “conclusion to a healthy relationship conversation” sex (there’s breakup sex and makeup sex and mid-fight sex… let me have this) Nicky settles his back against the warmth radiating from Alex’s chest, and as Alex tucks his chin against the crook of Nicky’s neck, fondness blooms in his chest as he notices that Nicky (6/7)smells like a freshly cut bouquet of roses, and a forest after everything has been dampened by the rain. (7/7) I'M THE WORST FUCK THIS IS A TOTAL OF LIKE 20 FUCKING ASKS OH MY GOD I'M SORRY I NEED TO GET OUT OF MY GREMLIN CAVE AND STOP BEING A STATISTICAL OUTLIER AAAH GOD I'M SO SORRY DUDE

[darling-i-fancy-you]

Fire - Jughead X Reader

[A/N: Okay so this was inspired by a fic I received just this afternoon and it’s also inspired heavily by my first panic attack when I actually thought I was going to die and that I was suffering a heart attack. I’m not sure but I hope I articulated well-enough how it kind of feels? I mean for me it’s pretty accurate but I understand that for everyone it can be totally different. 

Also, I didn’t intend for this to be as long as it is, I was aiming for a quick 600/700 words but ya got over 1000. Also not really romantic and more of a Jughead X Reader friendship thing cause that’s just they way this took me.

I hope the anon that requested this likes it, but it might not be exactly what they were looking for and also I feel like I did maybe romanticise a little with my metaphorical language, I’m not sure.]

It started with a pain in your chest, just underneath your ribs; as though someone had come along, taken hold of your lung and ripped it from its cavity. You took in a sharp breath which only made things worse, tightly you hugged your arms around your body. The sharp breath that you had taken struggled to find its way back to the surface, drowning in your lungs. Your eyes widened in panic as you took more sharp and quick breaths, each simply joining their friend in the black abyss of your chest.

‘What the hell is happening?’ You thought to yourself.

Physically your fingers began to tremble, the oxygen that you were trying to consume seemed to disappear before it could reach your desperate lungs. Were you suffocating or drowning? You couldn’t decide. You wanted to call or shout out for help but your usually articulate vocabulary was hidden behind a series of laboured breaths. You tried to tame your shaking hands by balling them up into tight fists, desperately they tried to uncurl themselves, your body fighting against you at every turn.

You were going to die right now, of that you were sure. Any minute now your rapidly beating heart would either explode or stop dead right inside your chest, was that what this was – a premature heart attack at the tender age of sixteen?

People in the hallway continued to move around you, couldn’t they see that you were dying right now? You tried to catch the attention of any of your fellow classmates, tears pricked at your eyes as they waltzed past you, oblivious to your internal war.

‘Y/N?’ Came the familiar voice from behind you.

‘Thank God!’ You thought as you whipped your head around to face the raven haired boy.

‘Y/N?’ He asked again, his voice filled with frantic concern.

Tears were freely slipping down your face, you pulled your shaking hand to your neck, hoping that he would understand what you trying to say.

‘I can’t breathe. I think I’m dying. Please help me.’

‘You can’t breathe?’ He asked as calmly as he could.

You shook your head frantically from side to side.

‘Okay, okay.’ He took hold of your shoulders, attempting to ease the trembling that had now consumed your whole body. ‘Can you speak?’

Your mouth opened and closed, choked breaths were the only thing to escape your lips. You shook your head again in defeat. Jughead nodded slowly and stared supportively into your eyes.

‘It’s okay Y/N, it’s going to be okay.’ He smiled softly and began to move to your side. ‘I know it might feel right now like you’re dying-’

You nodded at this, the light flow of tears had stopped but your breathing was still harsh and your limbs shook violently.

‘-but you aren’t.’ He finished.

He picked up your backpack that lay at the foot of your locker and swung it over his shoulder, with his other arm he linked yours and slowly began walking with you.

‘Let’s go to the Blue and Gold, it’ll be empty right now and we’ll work through this together.’

You watched him curiously, confusion mixed with fear was evident in your eyes. He sighed softly and rubbed the upper half of your arm.

‘I think you’re having a panic attack, Y/N.’ He looked away from you and continued to navigate you both through the stream of busy students. ‘My mom used to get them a lot when she was still in town. She said it felt like she was dying; like her body was betraying her.’

You continued to take heavy breaths through your mouth, desperate for any kind of relief, your lungs felt like they were on fire and the oxygen only fuelled it.

Jughead gently guided you into the dim room, he pulled out a chair and led you to sit on it. He crouched down in front of you, his cold and calm hands enclosed your trembling ones and he stared up at you.

‘Okay, so first things first, take a deep breathe in through your nose and count to three in your head, on the count of three let it out through your mouth.’

You did as he said.

One, two, three.

‘Okay now keep doing that.’

You continued to breath in and out, Jughead’s thumb lightly traced circles on the back of your hands. Cold air slowly began to fill your lungs, the burning pain was somewhat subsiding but you felt like at any minute you would be consumed by the flames once more.

‘Did I ever tell you about the time my mom thought I’d ran away?’ He smiled softly.

You thought back to all the many tales Jughead had told you about his childhood before you arrived in Riverdale. You vaguely remembered the one he was talking about, you nodded your head.

‘Do you want me to tell you again?’

You smiled as you took in another breath through your nose and nodded again lightly. He proceeded to tell you a long winded story about the best day he and Archie Andrews had ever had, it was the middle of summer and the boys had been out since the break of dawn exploring the entirety of Riverdale. They had been to the Sweetwater River, trekked through the deep Eversgreen Forest, ate dinner at Pop’s Chok-Lit-Shoppe, went back to the forest, then back to Pop’s for a replenishing snack and then ended the night by sneaking into the Twilight Drive-In. They were halfway through watching the latest Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull when suddenly the floodlights of the drive-in were all switched on and the police were running around shining torches in everyone’s faces.

‘We hadn’t been seen all day apart from by Pop but the idiots never thought to go there.’ He laughed. ‘They found me and Archie sat on the roof of the projector room, not a care in the world.’

You each shared a smile, slowly he pulled his hands back from yours, no longer were they shaking.

‘I bet you were grounded for months.’ Your voice had finally managed to find its way through the smoke and the flames.

‘Three.’ He confirmed with a nod. ‘Do you feel-‘

‘Better.’ You smiled softly, embarrassment setting in.

‘Do you want to talk about it?’ Jughead asked sincerely, he was stood up now and leaning against the table opposite to you.

‘I don’t really know what happened.’ You replied honestly, you felt exhausted and your chest still felt heavy. ‘I was okay and then suddenly I couldn’t breathe.’ Thinking about it made your lungs constrict again.

Jughead pushed himself up from the table and gently brushed your arm. Your bones felt heavy and your skin felt clammy underneath his touch. All you wanted right now was the comfort of your bed, you fought against the temptation to close your eyelids and instead looked at your friend, his face troubled with concern.  

‘Try not to think about it too much.’ He looked down and sighed. ‘I can’t pretend to know much about how you feel or what caused it, I just know that my mom used to get them when she was anxious or nervous, usually about my dad.’

‘I guess I’ve been feeling a lot of pressure lately,’ you fessed up, ‘what with my grades dropping, and my parents nagging at me to get a weekend job, and I suppose the whole murderer running around Riverdale thing hasn’t helped either.’ You added, trying to lighten the mood with some sarcastic undertone.

‘Well, Y/N, you know if you ever want to talk about any of that we’re all here for you. We’re all here for each other.’ His words were just as much for himself as they were for you.

All of you needed to support each other right now, you, Betty, Archie, Ronnie, Kevin and Jughead. You all had your own struggles and you couldn’t face them by yourselves, that’s what friends were for right.

‘Thanks Jug,’ you smiled and hesitantly wrapped your arms around his middle, ‘for everything.’

His usually tense body relaxed into yours, he rubbed his bony hands along your back and unexpectedly placed a light kiss to the crown of your head.

‘You’d do the same for me.’

And you would.

Tag List:

@nadya0128 @audreyxhorne @superoriginalteenwolf @sparklingriverdale @livierinforeva@iwannadiehere  @lostinpercyseyes @every-day-is-wednesday @mysticmurder@assonanceambiance@murderyoursoul @fuck-i-dont-care-anymore’t-care-anymore @satanwithstardust @itsjaynebird@phanofmydreams @pendletonthethird @doktorswho@frickflop @kingpendleton @an-enigmatic-avenger @captainjacksparkles@casismyguardianangel @lost-in-wonderland-x @the-winter-imagines @multiversegalaxygirl@lumiele @ineedtoorganizemybookshelf @florenceivy@yazminmcd @wishingtobelost@gottalovetheapocalypse @httpjugheadjones@whatsbetterthanfantasy @shameless-danni@caitsymichelle13 @iamthe80strash  @ri-verdale@divastar777 @mcheung0314@jamiemcrimmon @imanangelyouidjit@virusiswhatiam@chilloutenya @kashfghjkl@fizzylollipop12@imperfectanatomy

[shoujomangalover]

Soredemo Sekai wa Utsukushii Chapter 64

This chapter follows Livi as he starts the last test in order to save Nike. I’m not sure what trial he’ll face but it’ll probably be difficult.

He has to go to the deepest part of the forest and bring back an egg that can be used to cure Nike. It’s called a beast and it lays eggs, I have a bad feeling that Livi is going to get attacked by that beast.

Tsubai-chan is being so cute eating on the floor. I keep forgetting that she’s a deadly assassin but he’s so cute. (killing them with cuteness) Did she see the beast too?

Livi’s test might be conquering his fear. Livi’s fear is very extreme. In the beginning he was a jerk, extremely possessive, and had issues from before they met. His fear might be also seeing Nike die or some other fear that he has. On the bright side he has smoke bombs for whatever reason.

Aww, a bird on Livi’s head. I’m just noticing now but that owl’s eyes are a little but unnerving but she might be useful like showing him the way.

Livi is bad with animals despite having a bird siting on his head. (lol I agree with Livi here though, why would she keep as scorpion?) Livi’s good with his horse though calling him fat. The guy feeding him and the horse both look like he’s hearing Livi talk bad about him. (I just want to point out the owl said Hoe, I know this is just an animal noise but after reading it I just found it funny as if she was cursing at him like I’m right here are you not good with me?)

Yeah Livi I’m sure it’s because of the forest illusion and not your poor sense of directions.

A secret passage! Kinda cliché but whatevs.

Livi’s geekiness is showing. Honesty I’m curious too but he most likely won’t be able to examine them. Someone had to carve everything but how did they get past the miasma either they have a way to prevent the illusions or they don’t have any fears?

OK something spooked the owl or she sensed the exit and is trying to lead the way. What is the whole place going to collapse? Is Livi going to be trapped?

Fuck that! Why are there snakes everywhere!?! Is this also part of the illusion or are they real? The next pic removed: too many snakes)

They might be poisonous too, how is he gonna get through?

Oh that’s why she gave him the smoke bombs. She knew he was going to walk into a room full of snakes. Aww Nike giving him strength.

This is legit terrifying. I don’t hate snakes but I would definitely be nervous in a freaking room full of them.

OH MY GOD! That thing is huge! Holy shit! He can’t even kill it without making noise. The other snakes might attack. Man I feel so bad for him. It’s even worse since he is scared of snakes. You can see his fear. Is the secret to think of the person you love?

Well, I was close. Livi has long distance telepathy. (like with the horse) He’s going to be an even bigger pervert when he’s older. (pun not intended)

Livi’s face is beautiful here. The art is different from other shoujo manga but I like it. Livi’s almost reaching his destination.

Wow, it’s even more beautiful than before. If this is supposed to be an illusion of Livi’s fears than why is everything beautiful? Does that mean he fears beautiful things disappearing?

Ok that nest is HUGE! Those eggs are way big, the only animals that I can think of that lays eggs are birds or snakes. (Is that why all those snakes were there? Are they the babies!?!) This is some gigantic snake/bird beast or since it’s fantasy manga it might be a new beast. That’s terrifying though.

OH Shit you thought! Yeah I was thinking it was anticlimactic too! Who the hell is she? 

Wait!?! Is that his mom?

Ok he looks emotionally unstable. His mom is dead so this must be an illusion? So he’s scared of his mom or the fact that he has to come terms of her death.

Yep but she doesn’t look evil. This is going to hurt Livi though.

Ok I honestly don’t know what’s going to happen next. I have a few ideas though. He has to face her death, or he has to kill her himself (which would be sad and fucked up) I really hope she doesn’t turn into some mean person who will hurt Livi further. He needs to be happy with Nike.