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henrike-does-writing-sometimes · 1 year

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When the Battle Is Over

A little drabble for my magical boys that I started months ago and only now finished lmao. Just lighthearted fluff of the boys recovering from a particularly tough battle :)

(I do wanna write some real angsty fluff with them some day, some good ol’ hurt comfort-)

Word count: 1826 Warnings: Mentions of injuries and blood, but nothing graphic Wip: The Divine Characters: Rei Yamada, Andie Calinao-Fox, Timothy Murphy, Nico Morales, Mike Chandler

: Taglist - @vacantgodling :

Let me know if you want to be added/removed !

"Blinding,"

"Penta,"

"Strike!"

The attack made the ache in their bodies stronger, but it did manage to nullify the monster. Dispelling whatever force had taken hold of it, returning it back to its original form; A pick-up truck, as innocent as can be. Like it hadn't tried to maul them just moments prior. The Celestial responsible for it had been detained and brought to the Sanctuary for questioning hours ago. Leaving the Champions to deal with whatever monsters he'd left behind. It had been quite a handful, more than they were used to in one night.

When the dust had settled, when they were sure the monster was gone, Rei collapsed. Finally able to breathe again. The cold air bit at his lungs, and at his bruises and cuts. Rei hissed as the pain made itself known once more. Especially when his bruised left hand was lightly pressed against the ground.

"Is everyone alive?" Nico called out with a tired voice.

"Barely." Timothy answered. The same could be said for Andie, who was leaning against the ravenette for support.

“That should’ve been the last one.” Mike said, eyes scanning the area still on high alert.

"It better have been the last one." Rei muttered. He looked around, only no able to notice how unfamiliar the scenery was. "Does anyone know where we are?"

"The old folk park, I think." Timothy said. "Looks way different during the night, though."

“We’re on the other side of the city?” Andie groaned.

"That light post monster sure could run." Nico hummed. He then shivered as a near freezing wind swept past. The cold temperature was another thing they’d barely noticed during the battle.

"My house is closest from here," Mike said, "And my parents aren't home for the night so that’s a plus. Though it’s still a bit of a walk to get there…"

“If I remember correctly, the should be a bus stop nearby.” Timothy noted, much to Rei’s disdain.

"No, please. Can we not?" he protested.

"Dude, you can barely stand." Andie pointed out. Rei was about to claim his collapse had nothing to do with his ability to stand, when Nico appeared before him— a hand stretched out for him and a warm smile on his lips. "It's okay, we'll cover you."

Rei pouted, because while he could stand just fine and hated people looking at him, he was also exhausted. Almost enough to bear the embarrassment. Almost. "Fine." he mumbled and took Nico's hands.

They walked to the bus stop in a herd, with Rei shielded in the middle. The youngest blocked out the event of getting on the bus. Truthfully, he blocked out most of the ride itself. Because of course there were a few people already seated. And of course they'd occasionally turned their heads to the back of the bus— catching glances of the technicolored, glowing, and very injured Champions. Thankfully no one did more than look, and soon the bus was driving away from them as Mike guided them back to his house. Using his last bit of power to shield them with an illusion as they made their way inside.

When the door closed behind them, the world outside was forgotten if only for the night. Monsters no longer had meaning, the coming day decades away. All that mattered as they piled into the spacious kitchen was then and there. And their several injuries.

It was then they de-transformed. Their Lumens appeared by their side, and immediately curled up on their shoulders. Them too exhausted after keeping the Wielders aetherium in control so it wouldn't kill them after the prolonged battle.

"I'm gonna get these wee yins some place more comfortable." Timothy said, carefully moving Oid into his arms before gathering up the rest of their Lumens.

"You can put them in my room," Mike said. "Third door to the left." Timothy gave a curt nod, and as he left he said, "Nico’s bleeding on the floor."

"Wha- shit!" indeed, blood was still running down the side of Nicos head, following the soft edge of his jaw to gather at his chin where it then dropped down onto the floor.

"How has that not dried yet?" Nico questioned out loud as he swiped the blood from his chin. He then went to do the same to the bleeding injury— stopped quickly by Mike catching his wrist in a soft yet stern grip. "Probably because you’ve been picking at it since we got on the bus." he grinned. He then cocked his head towards the sink. “I’ll help you get it cleaned up.”

“How’s your hand doing?” Andie asked and turned to Rei. The boy held it up, and they both scowled at the dark bruises and swelling. “Ok so, not good.”

“Yeah that sums it up.” Rei hummed, then shuddered as the scene flashed before his eyes. It had been the third monster they'd battled that night. By that point they'd started to be affected by the fatigue, which made them less careful, less organized. The monster had landed an easy blow on Rei, sending him to the ground. It had then pinned him down with a foot pressed against his wrist. Adding more and more pressure until Rei screamed. Bones threatening to break.

"Here." Andie said, snapping Rei back to reality. They pulled out two of the dining chairs, motioning for Rei to sit in one while they plopped down on the other. "Let's have a look at it."

Rei sat down and carefully held out his arm for the other boy. He winced at their touch, tensing up before quickly relaxing. Andie knew what they were doing, and Rei trusted them.

“Move your fingers?” they requested and Rei did. Slow and shaking. There was a dull ache in the limbs, static buzzing through him as he wiggled his fingers. It was painful, but bearable.

“Well it’s not broken,” Andie concluded with a smile. “Most likely a sprain. Mike, you wouldn't happen to have anything that could work as a wrist brace?"

"Yeah! I got a few spare ones from when I got carpal tunnel. They're in the bathroom cabinet. First door to the right."

"Thank you!" Andie smiled before leaving the room.

“Ouch!” Nico’s pained hiss caught Rei’s attention. The auburn-haired boy was sitting on the counter next to the sink with Mike by his side, quickly retracting the wet towel he’d been using to clean Nico’s wound with. “Sorry!” he apologized.

“It’s alright.” the other assured with a smile, and Mike went back to work.

"It doesn't too look too deep, thankfully." he assessed after a few more dabs.

"It’s also a lot smaller." Rei added, recalling how the injury had appeared the size of a saucer when they'd first seen it. Back when Nico had been unresponsive for a few dreadful minutes after having been thrown to the ground like a ragdoll. Had it not been for their uniforms, Rei was sure they’d all been long dead.

Mike hummed. “That’s good, but we’re going to need something stronger than water for this one either way. Hey, Andie? Can you bring-!”

“Disinfectant?” the boy filled in as they and Timothy appeared in the doorway. Both carrying anything and all they might need.

“Yes, thank you.” the older smiled as he took the bottle from Andie, who then turned to help Rei with the wrist brace.

They soon fell into a familiar flow, tending to their wounds in comforting silence. Bandages were wrapped around Mike's upper arm, where a blade had sliced into him. It wasn't deep, but it had gone much further than simply grazing his skin. It had bled a lot too, leaving a dark stain on his teal uniform shirt. Ice bags wrapped in towels were held to Timothy's injured nose. Nothing seemed to be broken, but it was still swollen and bruised, with dried scabs of blood from small cuts along the bridge. Colorful bandaids were littered over Andie's olive skin, hiding the many scrapes they'd gained that night.

When all physical injuries had been attended to, they moved into the living room— collapsing on the couch in one big pile.

“What time is it?” Nico asked, officially breaking the silence.

“03:17,” Andie read form their phone screen, and grinned. “Officially friday.”

“Don’t you have cheer practice on fridays?” Timothy said, and Andie’s grin fell immediately as they let out a groan. “Fuck me sideways.”

“You could always call in sick.” Rei suggested.

“Nah, I can’t do that to my team. Nationals are coming up and we've got a streak to keep up."

"Does it count as a streak if you've alternated second and third every year?" Mike questioned.

"Yes, duh. It's a top three streak, obviously."

"Oh but of course." Timothy drawled.

"Dude fuck off."

“Question,” Nico spoke up. “If you get first place two times in a row does that replace the top three streak or are you on two streaks?”

“Can you even be on two streaks at the same time?” Rei arched his brow.

“Yes you can,” Andie stated. “Just wait and see, dude.”

"I hope you get fourth this year."

"And I hope your stupid sweaters shrink in the wash." Andie quipped back at Timothy.

"Alright, alright," Nico chuckled and held his hand between the two. "Knock it off, you-" whatever he intended to say next was drowned out by a big yawn.

“Let me know when and I can drive you guys home.” Mike said, failing to fight off a yawn of his own.

“Mike, you’re half-asleep. You’re not driving anywhere tonight.” Timothy muttered.

“You also have an injured arm,” Nico pointed out, “I’ll just tell my parents I stayed over at Adora’s place or something. They don’t care.”

“If Nico’s staying then I’m not getting up either.” Andie declared.

"And besides, Rei is already asleep, so." Timothy's voice slurred slightly as he slowly began drifting off.

“Okay. But we’re getting up early tomorrow, so I don’t want to hear anyone complain more than usual.” Mike smiled as he leaned further back on the couch. The rest seattle down in similar fashion, and soon the whole house had drifted off to sleep.

Except for Rei. The youngest had been first to close his eyes, intending to fall asleep, but it took some time for him to get there. It always did. In the strange and timeless limbo of not quite awake, not quite asleep, he remained for a while. Listening to the gentle breathing of the others, and occasional snore from Nico. It would’ve startled him, had Rei not gotten used to it. Had he not found comfort in it, odd as it may be. But considering the odd group of people he trusted with his life, he shouldn’t be surprised.

When, some time later, a big yawn pried his mouth open to escape, it took his last bits of consciousness with it.

"Goodnight, guys." he mumbled gently.

#finally got around to make them a header lmao #writeblr #writing #writers on tumblr #wip #drabble #wip drabble #wip : The Divine #magical boy

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dmkwrites · 1 year

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White Wedding

The gang all goes to Alma Bonnet’s wedding. It goes about as well as one could hope.

Blackbonnet with some other stuff

5500ish words

It was the afternoon before Alma Bonnet’s wedding, and she was near giddy with excitement. By this time tomorrow, I’ll be Mrs. Robert Jones, she thought to herself as she flitted from room to room, checking on her dress, the food, her dress again, the dining hall, the flowers, her dress again, as though it might have got up and walked off somewhere. Tomorrow night, Mr. Robert Jones would be ripping that dress—

Don’t go down that road right now, Alma, she chided herself. There’ll be plenty of time for that tomorrow. And the next day. The next morning. And afternoon. And again after tea, of course. And—

Alma screamed into a pillow and then went to go check on the food again, her cheeks flushed.

Mary watched her daughter ducking in and out of rooms like a madwoman, then turned to Doug. “I don’t recall being this worked up when I got married.”

“To be fair,” Doug said lightly, “You very much did not wish to be married in the first place.”

“True,” Mary conceded. “Come to think of it, I did used to spend hours picking out my clothes the night before my painting lessons.”

Doug blushed, but also looked incredibly pleased.

Just then, as Alma was rushing by yet again, there was a knock at the door. Alma screamed, making her parents jump and causing the cook to crush a whole egg into the cake batter. Alma flung open the door, and screamed again. “Robert!”

“Alma!” Robert replied in cheeky falsetto. “My darling, you look like you’re about to need a fainting couch. Sit down a moment.” He took her hand and lead her to the settee.

“What are you doing here?” Alma asked. In the kitchen, the cook had got about halfway through fishing out bits of shell before giving up entirely. “It’s bad luck to see me before the wedding.”

“The day before? Surely it starts after midnight.” Robert sat down next to her, and their knees touched, and Alma thought she might explode. “Anyway, a little bird told me there was a ship in the harbour with a rather exotic looking crew, and my mind immediately went to your seafaring Uncle. Jeff, wasn’t it? You said you invited him.”

“Yes, I did,” Alma said, enraptured by the cut of his jacket over his broad shoulders. “Yes, old uncle Jeff.”

Mary and Doug exchanged a look. “Jeff?” Mary asked, raising a brow. “You… he does know the truth about… uncle Jeff, doesn’t he? You told him?”

“What? Oh!” Alma laughed. “Goodness, yes, I completely forgot.” She took Robert’s hand and beamed at him. She loved the feeling of his broad hands in hers. Mrs. Robert Jones. “Uncle Jeff is Blackbeard.”

Robert laughed. Doug and Mary laughed. Alma laughed. Robert abruptly stopped laughing. “Alma, you’re not serious? Blackbeard was hanged years ago, you know.”

Alma snorted with laughter. “Yes, and my father really was mauled by a wildcat and crushed by a falling piano. Don’t be so naive, Robert.”

Robert drew back his hands and put them stiffly on his knees. “Your father is alive?”

“Well,” said Doug, “This is going about as well as expected.”

***

“Oh!” Stede exclaimed. “You shaved it off already.”

Edward rubbed his chin. “Practice run. Haven’t done it in awhile, worried I might do a hack job.”

Stede gave him a peck on the cheek. “Has been a long time since I saw your chin, come to think of it,” he said. Edward frowned and pulled Stede down for a proper kiss, and Stede giggled.

“Do you prefer the shave?”

“No, you know I’m very fond of your beard,” Stede said. “But it’s kind of fun once in awhile. Jeff the seafaring accountant is quite the fox, you know.”

“Oh?” Ed—or rather, Jeff—strode forward, the heels of his boots thudding authoritatively on the wooden boards. Stede backed into the wall, and Ed leaned over him. “Well hello there, Mr. Bonnet. My ears are burning.”

“Jeff,” Stede said, “I don’t know what you’ve heard, but if my lover Blackbeard catches us in such a compromising position…”

“Blackbeard? Phhff.” Jeff scoffed as he toyed with Stede’s hair. “I’m not afraid of some washed up old seadog.”

“He is NOT washed up!” Stede exclaimed hotly, and Jeff—Ed?—leaned in closer and kissed him hard, pressing their bodies together. It was a full minute before he let Stede come up for air. “Well,” Stede said, feeling faint, “Now I’m not sure which of you I’m rooting for.”

“As long as it’s one of us that’s good enough,” Edward said, and he leaned in again.

“Captains!” Lucius said, bursting through the door. “Augh!” He spun around. “I didn’t see anything!”

“Lucius!” Stede instinctively covered himself, though he was in fact fully dressed, and fully… well. Edward stayed where he was, pinning Stede against the wall, which did make it a bit difficult to converse, but both Stede and Lucius were used to that. “I’ve told you, you don’t need to call us captains, you’re a passenger today.”

“Okay, then why did you make me organize your library though?”

“That was voluntary, and anyway, none of the rest of the crew can read, who else can I get to do it? Don’t be a nitpicking Nelly, Lucius.”

Lucius rolled his eyes. “Well, Stede—“

Stede made a face. “Oh, I’m not sure I like that. Maybe we will just go with captain for now, yeah?”

“Captain—”

“You can call me captain as well,” Edward said. “If he’s captain I want to be captain.”

“Captains—“

“By the way Lucius, I’ve been meaning to ask, how did you manage to retire, anyway?” Stede wiggled out of Edward’s embrace, to which he gave a pout before retreating to his favorite chair by the window. “I mean, I paid well, but not THAT well. You were very hush-hush about it when you left.”

Lucius perked up. “Actually wanted to talk to you about that. Well, I was going to wait until we were on dry land in case Captain Ed wanted to toss me overboard again, but you both seem to be in,” Lucius paused and raised a brow, “exceedingly good moods, so I suppose it’s relatively safe.” He drew a small paperback novel out of his breast pocket and handed it over. Edward popped out of his seat to come look. “I’m a novelist!” Lucius beamed. “A saucy one! It’s an absolute smash hit!”

“The Captain and I. Sounds steamy!” Stede flipped through a few pages. “Using your pirate life as a bit of an inspiration, eh?”

“You could say that,” Lucius said.

Edward’s eyes darted across the page. “That’s the first time you and I met.”

Stede frowned. “What?”

“Right there,” Edward jabbed his finger at the page. “The fearsome pirate king sat at the injured captain’s bedside day and night, smoking his pipe and gazing at his prone form with his smoldering desire barely hidden, that’s me, I did that. I mean, I guess it was pretty smoldering, yeah.”

Stede flipped forward several chapters, to a page where the spine was nearly worn through.

“Hey!” Edward exclaimed, “That one’s the first time we fucked!”

“Ed!”

“Made love,” Edward corrected himself.

“No! I mean… Lucius!! This is—“ Stede caught himself yelling and instead lowered his tone to a very dramatic stage whisper, “This is actually the first time we made love! Verbatim! Were you listening!?”

“Oh yeah, obviously,” Lucius answered, “you can hear everything that happens in here from the galley, you know. Pete and I went down there for some alone time and we were treated to QUITE the show.”

Edward kept flipping through the book. “Gosh, this sure takes you back, doesn’t it Stede?”

“We can walk down memory lane later!”

Lucius held out a rather largish sack of coin. “I did bring your cut, naturally. For the inspiration.”

Edward snatched the sack without looking up from the page. “Feels a bit light.”

“Based on what!?”

“Based on the cashmere scarf you’ve upgraded to,” Edward said, flipping the page.

Lucius made a face. “I just have poor financial management skills, thanks very much.”

Stede had retired to Edward’s chair, hiding himself behind the backrest. “Ed, would you put the book down already? You need a primer on that right at this moment?”

“No, I remember every moment of that night,” Edward said, and Stede grinned a giddy grin in spite of himself, “but it’s nice to read about. Quite poetic actually.” He held the book open by the chair and Stede peeked over the back. “Look at this bit here, that’s downright lovely.”

Stede read a few lines and sat up straighter. “Oh, that’s actually rather tasteful.”

Lucius laughed. “Yeah, the lonely noblewomen demographic eats that nonsense up like candy. You two are disgustingly cute, it makes me a bit nauseous honestly.”

“I suppose since it’s already published… wait a moment.” Stede frowned. “Lucius, what did you come in here for to begin with? This?”

“Oh! No!” Lucius gestured to the deck. “Alma is out there and she is crying like anything. Absolute drama queen.”

***

“The wedding’s off!” Alma cried. “He’s left me! What am I to do?”

“There, there, darling,” Stede said, holding his arms open to his distraught daughter. She walked right past him and instead buried her tear-stained face in Edward’s chest. Stede couldn’t blame her; it was an exceedingly comforting chest to sob into. He settled for awkwardly patting her back. “What’s all this about the wedding? There must be some misunderstanding.”

Alma sobbed harder, then suddenly stopped and looked up angrily at Edward. “It’s your fault!” she cried, jabbing her finger in Edward’s face.

“Me? What did I do?” Edward asked, just as Stede sighed and said “What’s he done now?”

Alma beat her fists against Edward’s chest with surprising force. “I told him your were Blackbeard and father hadn’t been mauled by a wildcat and he just up and left! It’s all your fault! If you hadn’t got a stupid crush Stede would have just died at sea years ago and I could just be normal instead of having three dads to deal with!”

Edward looked at Stede. “She called me dad!”

“Yes, I heard!”

Alma made an unintelligible cry of rage and frustration, and rushed by Stede’s outstretched arms again to cry into Lucius’ shoulder. He rubbed her back. “Oh Alma,” he said, “You were doomed never to be normal.” She cried harder. “But that’s fine! You know I’m brilliant at breakups.”

“Why did you tell him today of all days?” Stede asked. “His nerves must be shot.”

“You only come to visit every year or two, it’s not exactly at the forefront of my mind, is it? I have my own life, you know.”

“That’s a good point.” Stede walked over and ruffled Alma’s hair the way he used to when she was a girl. His little girl. “Now listen," he said, quietly but firmly, “there’s not going to be any breakup. It’s just a case of wedding jitters is all. Ed and I will sort it right out. Alright?”

Alma sniffed and wiped her snotty nose on the back of her hand. “Thank you,” she said.

***

It was early evening when Stede knocked on Robert Jones’ door. Robert came from a family of merchants, and with the death of his mother several years earlier, he had moved in to the rooms about the trading office while his father stayed in their family home and got progressively drunker. Stede admired the building, modest but obviously well-crafted, with a lovely view of the harbour.

“Not bad,” Lucius said. “Could use a woman’s touch.”

“Good,” Stede said, “Keep that in mind, we can use that.”

“Do you have a plan?”

“No,” Stede admitted, “But these things usually work themselves out.”

There was the slow thud of footsteps coming down the stairs, and a tired voice, “Alma, I really can’t…”

“Hello!” Stede said cheerily. “May we come in? Important business afoot, you know. Well, I’m sure you’ve heard.”

Robert looked around in confusion. His eyes were red and his hair terribly askew. Stede reflexively reached out and smoothed it down, which confused the poor man even more. “I’m sorry, do I know you?”

“No, but I know you! Your reputation precedes you, sir. I’m Mr. East, and this,” Stede gestured behind him towards Edward, “Is Mr. India.”

“Who is?”

Stede turned around. Edward was gone. “Lucius! Where’s E—where’s Mr. India?”

Lucius shrugged. “Went off for a piss maybe? I’m not his keeper, am I?”

Stede forced a grin. “Ah, that scallywag! Well, go fetch him, then!”

“I thought I was just a pass—“

“Lucius!”

Lucius sighed and trudged off to wrangle Edward.

Robert was getting quite suspicious now. “Mr. East and Mr. India? As in, the East India Company?”

“Oh good! You’ve heard of us. May I come in?” And Stede barged past Robert and up the stairs.

The rooms above we done up in dark mahogany and teak and sumptuous fabrics to rival his own chambers on the Revenge. Stede’s eyes were nearly popping out of their sockets. Alma had landed a whopper. “How lovely…” he said, awestruck, and then, catching himself, “Sure could use a woman’s touch though! Bit of lightness, yeah?”

Robert smiled a thin little smile and pointed at a needlepoint pillow on the chaise, done up in garish pink hearts and and ghastly skulls. Stede choked back a laugh. Oh, Alma.

“I suppose I’ll have to give that back, though,” Robert sighed. “I don’t need the reminder.”

“Oh?” Stede squeaked, “Trouble in paradise?”

“You could say that.” Robert sat down on the chaise and picked up the pillow, tracing the little hearts and skulls lovingly with his fingertips. “She… kept a big secret from me. A couple. I’m not sure I can move past it. It would be an absolute scandal if anyone found out.”

“Scandal? What fun!” Stede said, and he sat down next to him. “Come on now, you strike me as the sort of fellow who can appreciate a bit of notoriety, eh? Spices things up!”

“I guess.” Robert clutched the pillow against his chest and slumped sideways. “I don’t know.”

“Maybe… it’s not the scandal? Maybe it’s the secrets?”

Robert peeked up at him. “Perhaps… it’s the secrets. They’re some big secrets. I thought we shared everything.”

Stede nodded sagely. “Why do you suppose she chose not to share this particular secret, then?”

“Well, if it were anyone else, I would think they were ashamed, but since it’s Alma…” Robert looked into the middle distance, pondering, “…honestly, she probably just forgot.”

Stede laughed heartily. “Yes, that does sound like Alma. I mean!” Stede panicked. “Alma is a lovely name, but does lend an air of… well, you know.”

Robert smiled a little, and sat back up, his shoulders held a little straighter. He had a dimple, in only one cheek, when he smiled. Charming. Alma really had done well. “You must be Mr. Bonnet,” he said. “I’m pleased to see you were not indeed mauled to death by a wildcat.”

“Actually, it was the piano that did me in! The wildcat was just for the drama.”

“Wasn’t a piano dramatic enough?”

Stede shrugged. “You only die once, you know.” Robert actually laughed at that one, a hearty laugh from his gut. Stede smiled warmly at him. “You also only live one life, you know. Mary told me that, and it’s always stayed with me.”

“So,” a voice came from the doorway, “What life do you want lad?”

“Absolutely I want to marry Alma,” Robert said, “Like, so so much. She’s amazing. Do you know she made this herself?” He thrust the pillow into Stede’s face.

Edward walked over, Lucius close behind. “Look at that, she used the design I sent her!”

“Where were you?” Stede hissed.

“Nowhere,” Edward said.

Stede turned to Lucius. “Where was he?”

“Oh, I can’t tell you,” Lucius replied, “It’s too good.”

Robert stood up and brushed his wrinkled jacket flat. “Terribly sorry for the state of things,” he said, gesturing to a half-eaten pound cake sitting on the side table next to a piled of damp handkerchiefs. “You must be Mr. Bonnet’s crew, then.” He held out his hand. “Robert Jones, pleased to make your acquaintance.”

“Lucius Spriggs.”

Edward griped Robert’s hand with such force it shocked him. “Blackbeard,” he said.

Robert nodded, and immediately started hyperventilating.

Edward rolled his eyes and looked at Lucius. “Why does everyone react like that?”

Lucius rolled his eyes right back. “Introduce yourself as Edward instead of Blackbeard then, yeah? You’re obviously doing it on purpose.”

Robert cleared his throat and tried his damnedest to act cool, and failed. “I thought you’d… uh… have a beard? Is it like an irony thing?”

“Blackbeard has a beard,” Edward said, then tapped his head. “Jeff does not have a beard.”

“I know it sounds stupid,” Lucius admitted, “but it honestly is that simple. Most people are idiots.”

“…is your finger made of wood?”

Stede stood up and started slicing into the poundcake with a strained smile. “Rob, you wouldn’t happen to have some tea would you?

***

The three passed a very pleasant afternoon. Stede told Robert flowery tales of their recent adventures in the Chinese seas, Robert playfully chided Edward for plundering his father ships a full six times, and Lucius ate the entire remaining poundcake slathered with marmalade. It was going to go straight to his thighs, but he rather liked his thighs, so that was fine by him. Finally, once Edward had drunk through Robert’s entire sugar bowl, they took their leave.

Robert felt a kind of lightness in his chest. Everything he’d thought about pirates had been wrong. Being the Gentleman Pirate’s son-in-law might not be so bad. He was just like his dear Alma, after all. And Blackbeard had been nothing like the stories. He was downright lovely, in fact.

Edward shook Robert’s hand vigorously at the door. “Wonderful to meet you, just fab, I’m so looking forward to the wedding. Alma will be so pleased, so pleased indeed.”

Lucius breezed past with a “Bye,” a little too ashamed to thank him for the tea he’d absolutely demolished.

Edward went last, and he paused at the door while Stede went ahead, and he turned back to Robert. Robert suddenly felt uneasy. It was like a switch had gone off. In that instant, he had no doubt in his mind he was actually meeting Blackbeard for the first time.

“If you break Alma’s heart,” Edward said, softly, in the kind of voice that knows it commands a room, “I’ll pull your guts out by your nose and string you up in the town square. For fun.”

Robert went pale.

“You understand me, boy?”

Robert swallowed and nodded slowly.

“Say it, then.”

“I understand you, sir,” he squeaked.

Edward nodded, then strode back to Robert and clapped him on the shoulder with a wide grin. “Welcome to the family, son!”

***

“Where were you, really?” Stede asked when Edward caught up with them.

“Just now?” Edward replied, and he thumbed back at Robert’s place. “Just having a bit of a laugh with old Rob.”

“Not that,” Stede said. “Earlier, you disappeared all of a sudden. Where did you go?”

Edward pushed on ahead. “Was I gone?”

Stede frowned.

***

Edward squinted at the clouds at sunset and proclaimed the next day would be clear and sunny, and so it was, a perfect spring day with a refreshing breeze blowing in from the east. The crew and passengers of the Revenge made their way to the church, the only time some of them would step foot in one in their lives. Lucius was dressed in a modest but stylish tailored jacket and incongruously ostentatious cravat. Edward was dressed like a doll in all Stede’s fanciest dress, though the little flowers twined in his hair were his own doing. The rest of the crew were outfitted in a combination of Stede’s odds and ends and their own least threadbare clothing.

Stede, in disguise as “Jeff’s” servant, was wearing plain brown linen borrowed from Doug, and a pair of spectacles that made him rather dizzy. He trudged along next to the lying, no good, conniving Edward, and pouted.

“What’s the matter with you?” Edward asked. “Too underdressed? Do you want to borrow my pocket square?”

“You know what was really the issue with Robert and Alma?” Stede said, refusing to look at him, “It was the LYING. LYING ruins relationships. One shouldn’t LIE to their partner. Breeds nothing but trouble. Don’t you agree, Lucius?”

“Don’t bring me into this please.”

Mary waved at the bunch from the door to the church. “You’re late, you’ll all have to sit at the back. Except Jeff, of course we saved you a seat at the front.”

Stede sighed, but made to sit in the back pew.

“Mary, dear,” said Edward, loudly, for the rest of the church to hear, “Can’t we squeeze old Easton here into the front with me? I don’t want to trouble you, but I’ve got a flareup of the old gout, you know. All those Chinese delicacies. Goes straight to the toe.”

Mary smiled knowingly. “Oh, I’m certain we could make some room. He can have Louis’ place, he’s away at school.”

Edward looked back at Stede and winked. Stupid sexy wink, Stede thought, but he also thought of seeing Alma from the front pew, and he scurried to Edward’s side. He offered him his arm to lean on, to keep up the charade, and Edward took it, closing the gap between them, close enough for Stede to smell lavender soap as the walked together down the aisle. He breathed in deeply.

They took their seats without incident, and the ceremony began.

Alma was resplendent in her mother’s veil and a dress adorned with yards of French lace, plundered from a trading vessel several years prior and set aside by dear uncle Jeff for just this occasion. Once the ceremony started, Stede noticed the dress quivering slightly, and wondered if it was nerves, but then realized she was tapping her foot impatiently as the vicar droned on.

“I don’t get all this god stuff,” Edward muttered, “What’s he got to do with love anyway?”

“Well, I think it’s nice,” Stede whispered tersely, though he very much agreed. He’d almost fallen asleep at his own wedding, and only managed to stay awake because he’d also felt like vomiting the whole time. Alma and Robert exchanged rings, and Alma was beaming, and Robert’s hands were shaking as he tried to slip the ring on Alma’s finger. Stede remembered Mary’s sullen look, and his own shaking hands.

Suddenly Edward’s hand was on his, and Stede realized his own hands were shaking now, and he didn’t know why.

The vicar joined Alma and Robert’s hands together. “Those whom God has joined together let no one put asunder,” he cried, with much more dramatic flair than expected. There was a loud sob from the back of the church, and half the guests turned around to look.

Black Pete was attempting to comfort a blubbering Lucius. “He always cries at weddings,” he said apologetically.

***

Jeff stood up after the ceremony and invited all the guests who wished to join them on the Revenge to celebrate and “indulge in a taste of the orient,” which was code for get wasted on rice wine and century eggs. Most of the guests happily obliged, and the odd procession wound its way down to the docks and on to the ship. Stede tossed away his glasses and went straight for his hidden cache of brandy.

Edward watched, quietly.

***

Some time later, as the Swede was singing an aria in tribute to the newlyweds to a confused but enraptured crowd, Stede stumbled up to Mary and Doug and sat heavily on a nearby barrel. “Was there a brothel by the docks? And how long does it take to go to a brothel, anyway?”

“You’re spiraling,” Mary said, sipping her drink.

“I’m not!” Stede replied, eyeing Edward across the deck. “I’m barely… I’m barely even going in circles!”

Mary turned to Doug. “He’s spiraling.”

“You don’t have to tell me.”

***

“You married Spanish Jackie!?”

“Yeah,” Frenchie beamed. “It’s great! We fuck now and then, and when she dies I get half of everything.”

Jim frowned, tapping the tip of their knife against the table. “Why half? Doesn’t she have like twenty-five husbands now?”

“Yeah, but I’m her favorite!” Oluwande and Jim exchanged a look. Frenchie’s face slowly fell as he came to a realization. He slumped forward and put his head in his hands. “I own half a pyramid, don’t I?”

Jim howled with laughter and Oluwande patted Frenchie’s arm. “Sorry mate.”

“I mean, the sex is still great, so.”

***

“A toast to dear Buttons!” Wee John cried.

Roach sniffled. “He’s with Carl now, it’s what he’d want.”

“To Carl!” the Swede yelled, raising a bottle.

Buttons coughed and rolled over.

“Oh, never mind,” said Wee John.

***

“How are the kids?” Stede asked, his words hardly slurred. He wasn’t spiraling.

“The orphans?” Jim shrugged. “Fine, I guess. Alive. Eating all Nana’s oranges.”

Stede nodded. “Alive, yes! Fab! A good thing to be! Any luck finding them some parents, then?”

Jim gave Stede a quizzical look. “Why the hell would I do that?”

Stede’s smiled wavered in confusion. “Isn’t… isn’t that the point of an orphanage? If you’re not trying to find them homes, don’t you just… have children?”

“Shut up,” Jim said, and stormed off to get another drink.

“Don’t mind them,” Oluwande said, “they’re in denial about the whole being a parent thing. Sorry about that.” He pulled his chair up next to Stede. “I, however, embrace it wholeheartedly.” And he proceeded to gush about his daughters for a full half an hour, and Stede ate up every moment.

***

Pete sidled up to Lucius. “So… you still have the finger.”

“Shut up.” Lucius grabbed Pete by his shirtfront and began to pull him down the nearby corridor to the galley. “You’d better be leaving with me this time or I’ll really never speak to you again.”

“Yes sir.”

***

Alma turned to Robert. “Having any regrets joining this motley crew?”

Robert smiled. “You know, your ‘uncle’ threatened to string me up by my own guts if I hurt you.”

Alma smiled wryly. “That sounds like him.”

Robert took Alma’s hand and rang his thumb across her wedding ring. Her heart sped up, like it had the first time he took her hand, helping her out of her carriage. “Do you know what I thought about that, Alma Jones?”

“Fuck me, I guess I have to go through with it now?”

“No.” Robert turned his gaze back out to the party, where Edward was drinking Doug under the table. “It made me think, Good Lord, if Alma can wrap the fearsome Blackbeard around her little finger like that, what chance did I ever stand after all?”

Alma laughed. She stood up and tugged at Robert’s arm, shooting him a coy look in the lamp light. “Let’s get out of here,” she said.

***

“Let’s get out of here,” Edward said.

Stede looked up from his drink. “What? Why? Mary and I were catching up.”

Mary waved her hand. “It’s fine, it looks like I’ve got to help Doug stumble home before he passes right out.” She slammed back the rest of her rum, and Stede thought again how much more fun it was to be her friend than her husband. She wavered across the deck and kicked Doug lightly in the ribs before helping him to his feet.

“Come on,” Edward said, and Stede followed, because what else was there to do?

The pair made their way across the docks and up a nearby hill, a place Stede had often come to watch the ships passing in and out of the harbour in his old life. The Revenge danced and bobbed with laughter and music and lamplight. Edward set about starting a fire while Stede watched him, admiring the skillful way he arranged the kindling. Stede never got tired of watching him, honestly. Everything he did was fascinating. The version of him who’d sat on this hill dreaming fifteen years ago would have never have imagined this. Could never.

“You’re mad at me,” Edward said, lighting a match.

Stede snapped out of his thoughts. “Right! Yes!” he said, remembering he had been upset with Ed earlier, and then immediately, “I mean, no! Of course not! What are you talking about?” as he remembered that he hadn’t wanted to let him know that he was mad.

Edward added a few more branches to the fire and looked at Stede over the flames, the smoke wisping about his face, and Stede’s chest ached. Edward came around and sat next to him, and Stede leaned against his shoulder, and completely forgot what he’d been upset about.

Edward reached into the pouch at his waist and took out a small box. “I got this for you,” he said. “Yesterday. That’s why I was gone.”

“Oh?” Stede said in embarrassed falsetto, feeling an absolute fool. “Were you gone?”

“You literally asked me about it. About four times.”

“Ah, that.” Stede said sheepishly. He took the box. “Thank you. I should have trusted you.”

Edward shrugged. “You get all weird when we come here,” he said. “Not your usual weird, mind. Different kind of weird.” He put his arm around Stede shoulder. “You’re not that guy anymore, you know? That bloke got mauled by a tiger.”

“Jaguar,” Stede laughed. “Or was it an ocelot? Some wild cat. Very cool death, anyway, I have to say. Mary said the boys in town talked about it for months at the pub…”

“Open the box.”

“Right, right.” Stede fumbled the little box open, and then gasped. Inside was a gold ring, beautifully fashioned to resemble two hands clasping.

“I know it’s not as fine as most of the rings you have,” Edward said. He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks, and cursed the absence of his beard. “Apparently they don’t keep the fancy things in stock at the shop, stupid business model if you ask me. But I dunno, I kind of liked this one.”

Stede’s eyes went wide. “You BOUGHT this? At a store?? With money???”

“With the money from Lucius.” Edward frowned. “Shouldn’t I have? I thought you’d be mad if I just robbed him…”

“No, no.” There were tears in Stede’s eyes as he took the ring out. “It’s beautiful. I love it.”

Edward smiled, relieved, and he took the ring from Stede’s trembling hand and put it on his ring finger. “I don’t know about before god or any of that nonsense,” he said, looking Stede in the eyes, “But I swear to you, Stede Bonnet, I will never leave your side so long as there’s still breath in my body, and beyond.”

“Oh my.” Stede shook out his damp, balled-up handkerchief and wiped his tears. “You’re going to haunt me, then? Is that supposed to be romantic?”

“A little, don’t you think? It’s a bit romantic I reckon.”

“It’s awful, just wait for me in… wherever. Hell, I suppose.” Stede laughed. “Come to think of it, perhaps it would be better to be a pair of ghost pirates. Anyway,” and he laughed again, “This is so silly, but I actually have something I wanted to give you as well. I suppose now is as good a time as any.” He fished a small brown paper packet out of his breast pocket and handed it to Edward, his hand still shaking.

Edward raised his eyebrows and unwrapped the small packet. Inside was a gold ring set with a giant ruby surrounded by diamonds. It sparkled in the firelight like nothing Edward had ever seen. “You bought this for me?” he asked, awestruck.

“Of course not!” Stede exclaimed. Then he leaned in with that conspiratorial grin of his, and whispered, “I stole it off a corpse!”

“No!”

“Yes! That raid we did last month where all those idiot Frenchmen died of scurvy, you remember. I’d been looking for a ring for ages and when I set eyes on that I knew it was perfect for you.”

Edward laughed. “You’re the only one who would see something like this and think of me.”

Stede wasn’t laughing now. He took the ring and slipped it on Edward’s finger. “I’ve told you time and time again,” he said quietly, “you wear fine things well.”

They sat like that, hand in hand by the fireside, for a few minutes, the kind of silence where you didn’t need to say anything at all.

“Aren’t you going to say a vow, though?”

“Oh, right!” Stede panicked. “I… um… I’ll haunt you as well!”

Shit. That wasn’t right. But Edward was laughing, and then Edward was kissing him, and that had never once lost its shine, so Stede supposed it was fine anyway. He cupped Ed’s face, stroking at the rough stubble, his heart as full as it had ever been.

“I love you, Mr. Edward Bonnet.”

“I love you, Mr. Stede Teach.”

Just as the two leaned in to kiss, there was a loud sob from behind a stand of trees. Stede looked up, brow furrowed. “Lucius?!”

“I’m sorry!!” Lucius peeked his head out, tears streaming down his face. “I told you I always cry at weddings!”

#our flag means death #blackbonnet #edward teach #blackbeard #stede bonnet #alma bonnet #drama queens #edward/stede #lucius spriggs #lucius is all of us

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biohazard-inevitable · 2 years

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I’m just gonna ramble into the void here about my Overwatch Self insert but soley in actual gameplay terms and stuff like- no plot is in this ramble its just how i would work mechanically in game if I were in game because I’m a fuckin dingus about that kinda shit.

Still here? Okay so-

First of all, I’m a tank hero, my health is right around that of doomfist and junker queen in the area of about 400 with some shield health as granted by my fox spirit, Shugo.

Main weapon is either a claymore or dual wielding katanas, though i also think having kunai knives as my main skill and then having a katana or claymore as like a big slash skill similar to junker queen since we are currently in the poke meta it seems with heroes like rammatra and junker queen being introduced. So i’d need some long range and close range capability, and while yes story-wise I can use a bow, I think also story-wise since i trained mostly with the blade i would use a blade in combat rather than a bow (plus it just looks super cool)

As for skills, i can create a shield that can be placed similar to sigma’s (and ow1 orisa) that is a permenant shield and can be recalled. It looks like giant shrine gates to tie me into kiriko since me and kiriko are twins. I can also do a self heal similar to roadhog, but it doesnt do as much as hog’s and its similar to kiriko’s where the animation is i put talismans on my arm, its mainly just for survivability.

As for passive things, like every dhimada, i can wallclimb, but thats about it.

I’ve tried thinking about alot of things for my ult and compared them to current tank ults in game and i think i’ve settled on having a giant square of shrine gates appear and anything within them gets mauled by my fox spirit in an animation similar to hanzo’s scatter arrow, and it’s basically a giant aoe scatter arrow confined to the square that my ult puts up. Square is about the size of lucio’s aoe heal/speed if you were to measure it with something.

Anyways thats all i have for the ramble kk goodbye

#overwatch #overwatch self insert #theres just so much Potential here #i think this is a fantastic hero kit #i made it really similar to sigma’s cause besides d.va hes the one tank that i think i’d be most like #all in all its an exciting build #i love thinking about stuff like this for my videogame s/is #but im probably the only one who really cares about it #so i’ll scream it into the void anyways

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tailsrevane · 2 years

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[movie review] teen wolf (1985)

i’m actually a little in awe of how thoroughly teen wolf delivers on just about everything you might expect when you hear its premise. dork who gets bullied? check. said dork is pining away for an unattainable girl? check. he has another friend who is pining away for him while he’s pining away for her? you bet. his newfound powers make him good at sports which results in him becoming uber popular which results in him being kind of a dick to people in his life? totally. inspired by a newfound sense of humanity, he plays the championship game without his powers and helps his teammates discover that it turns out the basketball was inside them all along? that would be telling. (also, yes.)

so, okay, there’s actually a key point at which this could’ve been a much more predictable, and (if you ask me) probably a much worse movie: michael j. fox’s character could’ve hidden his werewolf nature at all costs and most of the dramatic tension in the film could’ve been about him being in various social situations trying not to wolf out. a lot of other movies would’ve taken exactly that course, and i probably would’ve fallen asleep. (though, maybe not, because this movie is so quirky in other ways that i can’t imagine it being “normal” even if it had taken that route.)

there are definitely some things here that bug the crap out of me (casual homophobia, the fact that the film had to make such a big deal out of michael j. fox’s character snubbing the pretty/popular girl at the end), but it’s all pretty standard-issue 1980s hollywood stuff which i’m pretty much always prepared for when watching a movie like this. it wasn’t nearly enough to ruin it.

as hot as it was seeing a werewolf dominate basketball games, though, the wolf makeup was pretty fucking ugly. he didn’t even have a snout! disappointing.

also i kind of hate how in both of these movies the protagonist has to learn humility by not being a werewolf. werewolves fucking rule! you shouldn’t be ashamed of being a werewolf if you are one, you should come here and maul the fuck outta me!

i mean, yeah, these movies are hardly the worst offender in that regard. like especially in older movies you just want to groan out loud at all the guilt & angst people have about transforming into hot furries once a month. but it’s still disappointing to see both of these movies go from “werewolves are awesome!! fuck yeah!!” to “actually you should try not being a werewolf.” just not my vibe, man! b-rank

#teen wolf #teen wolf 1985 #werewolf movies #werewolf #werewolves #movies #movie review

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irresponsibility101 · 3 years

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hi i’ve done something stupid again

CLONE WARS AS GEMMA COLLINS QUOTES

because i need something to do with my time, also no the first one is not ob*kin, because that’s fucking whack

Anakin: i told [obi-wan] i love him. it’s proper cringe.

Padme: kiss my designer vagina

Obi-Wan: I’m 34 I’ve earned my divaship

Obi-Wan, after order 66: get that fire exit door i’m off

Ahsoka during the mortis arc: no i don’t want to play anymore games, i’m fucking gamed out. i’ve had enough of playing games. fucking hell—

Fox: i’ve just seen something really fucking scary in the mirror

Rex: this is very expensive hair. it’s fucking frazzled because you’ve only got straighteners in here, you haven’t got heated rollers. straighteners are what fucking weirdos use on their hair

Cody: i’M CLAUSTROPHOBIC [GENERAL]

Fives: it’s like having a job, working 24/7, for two days on the trot

Echo: i’m a massive fan of the dictionary

Ventress: i just want my life back, instead of playing fucking stupid tasks all day for a £200 shopping budget

Dooku: i’ve never seen gruel in my life, i thought it was something made up for oliver twist films.

Maul: like that’s death, that’s death, death, death, death, death. it’s all death.

Mace: these [senators] are fucking idiots

Kix, narrating: [Hardcase] and [Jesse] are playing with a lemon in a sock

Quinlan: sometimes i do wish that i had someone who’s very financially stable

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fandom-imagines-stories · 2 years

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Saving Grace S2 E2: Nowhere to Hide

S2 E2

Fox Mulder x Reader

Words: 2496

Summary: The reader and Alex’s investigation is interrupted by a familiar face. Something about this case isn’t right and the reader and Scully both know it.

Notes: Making my timeline is a little difficult, but I believe I’m using the years from the character Wiki pages so nobody come after me for inaccuracies haha. The timeline for this series is extensive. Also, sorry this is late, I honestly forgot yesterday was Monday.

More Mulder Imagines: HERE

The map glared back at him with mocking lines and smeared red ink. Three shiny pins blinked and shined under the fluorescent light. Around him, the clutter of files and records and photos had turned his office into the den of a mad man. Well, at least more than it already was.

“Three missing scientists… one corrupt research institution…” He slammed his hand down on a blurry security photo with the subject just barely caught in the frame. “And Krycek.”

His musing turned to rambling, as they often did, and he paced around his office, trying to make it all connect. Somehow, he knew. If he followed the trail of Zimtech trying to clean up its mess, he would find you.

The door opened and his phone started to ring. Scully entered, her expression unreadable. She stared at the report in her hand with an intense perplexion. Before she could share her information, however, Mulder quickly answered his phone.

“Mulder.” His greeting held that desperate hope that only Scully recognized. As if every time he answered the phone, he expected it to be you. And, like each call in the past three months, she watched his demeanor fall. This time, however, whoever was on the other line piqued his interest. Mulder shot across his office, phone tucked between his shoulder and his ear, and jammed a new pin into the map on the wall.

“What is it?” Scully asked. He put a hand up and listened to the voice.

“And you’re sure the name is Greenwich?” He inhaled sharply. Scully just continued to watch in confusion. Mulder’s intense focus was something she’d grown used to, but this was different. He seemed almost hopeful.

He slammed the phone down on the receiver and looked at her with wide eyes. The fax machine beeped. Scully remembered the report in her hand.

“Mulder, there’s something I think you should-”

“Greenwich, Scully,” He exclaimed. “I’ve been having the Lone Gunman keep tabs on all of the missing person reports that connect back to Zimtech.” Mulder took the paper from the fax machine and pinned it next to the map. “Dr. Albert Greenwich- one of the lead scientists at Zimtech was reported missing by his wife under the alias of Marc Plum.”

He pointed at the side by side picture of Dr. Greenwich and the missing persons report for Plum. The same man- though Plum looked significantly more disheveled than the doctor in the Zimtech uniform- looked back at her. The connection to his excitement was still unclear.

“We’ve been tracking missing Zimtech employees for months,” she said, “what’s different about him?”

He started pacing again.’ “When we started investigating Zimtech, Y/N had an informant form the research department. She never told me much about him other than the name he gave her- Mr. Green.”

Scully nodded, understanding now. “And you think if you find her informant…”

“I find my wife.”

There was a long pause. Scully wanted to believe he was right, but the case in her hand kept coming back to her mind. She handed him the paper.

“Dr. Mira Lagosi was also one of the head researchers in Zimtech’s zoology department. She specialized in DNA and altering the genetic makeup of mammals.”

Mulder glanced over the paper with confusion. “What does this have to do with finding Y/N?”

Scully handed him another page. “Dr. Lagosi’s body was found in her apartment this morning. She appears to have been mauled to death. Due to the state of her body, the coroner is having difficulty with some of the details, but he put the time of death around three days ago.” She cleared her throat. “Apparently, there was a gas leak in the building so no one was there to notice the smell.”

Mulder looked over the case for a moment, but handed it back to her.

“Greenwich has been missing for only 36 hours, making him the more recent case. Y/N will be there.”

“I don’t think we can just toss this aside,” Scully said. “This is the first time we have a body to examine.”

“Which tells me that it probably wasn’t Zimtech.” He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. “My best bet is to keep following the trail Y/N is leaving for me.”

“How do you know Y/N is the one leaving it?” She asked. “The only person you’ve connected anything to is Krycek.”

“She’s with him,” he said. His shoulders slumped slightly. “I know it.”

Scully hated seeing him like this. Desperate. Defeated. But something in her told her this case was the one.

“We can’t ignore this case,” she sighed.

Mulder nodded. “Then I’ll go to Nevada alone.”

“Mulder-”

“I’ll look into the Greenwich case while you find out what happened to Dr. Frankenstein.” His tone was final.

Scully didn’t see any other option. She tucked the file into her bag and started towards the door.

“I’ll call you if I find anything,” she said. She turned back towards him. “Be careful, Mulder.”

He simply looked away, staring at the pins in the map.

It didn’t make any sense. You’d tracked Lagosi’s every move since she’d become Professor Maggie King at the local college. Alex and you canvassed the whole damn town, playing the happy couple on vacation, and nothing was turning up. Three days was too long to stay in one place. If you don't find her soon… well you certainly weren’t looking forward to that phone call from Zimmer.

You waited in the car, listening to some crappy talk show while Alex stood at the payphone. He never told you who his informants were, but whoever it was certainly pissed him off. You absent-mindedly observed the world around you. People out on morning jogs, older couples grabbing breakfast at a diner, a young boy tossing out newspapers.

One paper landed close enough to the car that you could see the headline. Your heart leaped into your throat and you scrambled out of the car.

“What the hell?” You muttered.

“I thought I told you to-” Alex whined, but you thrust the paper at him before he could finish.

Police Investigate Death on 42nd Street.

“At least it explains why we haven’t found her,” you said. “Looks like something got to her first.”

“That isn’t possible.” He read the article in disbelief. “We would have heard about it. Zimtech would have heard about it.”

“Unless they set us up.” You said through gritted teeth. There was no way your lack of information was an accident.

Alex threw the paper to the ground. “Well, Mrs. Carter, looks like our job just got a little more complicated.”

You sneered. “Stop calling me that.”

Blood stained altex fell into the trash. Scully turned off the light about the table and removed her goggles. The autopsy- of what was left of the body- revealed what she’d expected. Dr. Lagos was essentially ripped apart. Cause of death was blood loss, but several of her organs had also been removed. They appeared to have been clawed out of her chest cavity. By what, she had yet to determine. It almost seemed feline.

She finished gathering her things and made a mental note to call Mr. Y/L/N to check on Grace. She’d also need to call Mulder and tell him what she’d discovered so far and see if he’d found anything about Greenwich. The thought of calling Y/N entered her mind before she could stop it.

This was easier when you were here.

Dana shut the door and started down the hallway of the coroner’s office. Facts floated around in her mind, attempting to cling together to form theories. Nothing stuck. How could a predator like a cougar or lion have gotten into Lagosi’s locked apartment? Sure, the window was open, but she lived on the seventh floor. No such creature could have climbed the fire escape like that. Not unnoticed anyway. Mulder would probably suggest some kind of werewolf. She almost wished he was here to distract her with his crazy theories.

She’d need to go back to the crime scene to see if the local authorities had missed something. Plus, the drive across town would give her a little time to think. All of this meant something. It just didn’t make sense yet.

She didn’t know that someone had gotten there first.

“What the hell happened?” You grimaced at the gruesome scene before you. While the body was gone and investigators had already gone through everything, the blood stains on nearly every surface painted a clear enough picture.

Alex stepped over a shattered lamp. “That’s what we’re here to figure out. Time to break out all of that Academy training. You used to be Violent Crimes, right?” His tone made it sound more like a jab than genuine interest.

You ignored him. He seemed to think now was a good time to push you.

“Yeah…” He mused. “That’s how you met Mulder. The weirdo genius kid from BSU.”

You gritted your teeth. “How do you know that?”

He chuckled. “When are you going to get it through your head? I know everything.” He smirked at you, satisfied that he’d hit a nerve.

“Less talking. More looking.” You snapped. You had to fight to keep the memories from flooding your head. They were too painful now. But he knew that.

“I can see I’ve struck a nerve, Carter.” He still said the name with a smugness that made you want to punch him. Thankfully, he stopped there.

Christmas lights framed the doorway of the building. Scully noted the lack of police cars. Shouldn’t there be a team watching the crime scene? Her phone rang before she could finish the thought.

“Hello?”

“Scully, it’s me.” Mullder’s disappointed voice greeted. “I think you were right. There's no sign of Greenwich or what happened to him. No sign of Y/N.” She could hear him kick over something, probably a chair.

She took a deep breath. “I was about to call you. I think something seriously strange is going on here, Mulder.” She hit the elevator button, still observing the odd quietness around her.

“I’ll take the first flight to North Carolina.”

Dana sighed. Until she had any evidence that Y/N could be involved, there was no need to get his hopes up. Reaching the floor, she walked towards Dr. Lagossi’s apartment.

If Alex had still been making his snide remarks, you wouldn’t have heard the footsteps outside, accompanied by a voice that shot panic through your chest. You grabbed Alex by the lapel and shoved him into the closet. Unfortunately, the small space only fit one.

“What the hell?” He objected.

“I’ll handle this.” You slammed the door just as the front door opened.

“No. Tomorrow is Christmas Eve. Go home and spend it with your daughter.”

You could almost hear his voice on the other line. Scully closed the door behind her and looked up. She froze, eyes locking with yours.

“Mulder… I’ll call you back.”

1992

You sat at your desk. Mulder sat at one of the tables looking through slides. You had a mountain of memos and taxes to go through before Blevins started breathing down your neck. A knock pulled you out of your work, but Mulder didn’t lose his focus.

“Sorry, nobody down here but the FBI’s most unwanted,” he said.

You rolled your eyes. “Fox.”

He looked at you the same way he always did when you called him by his first name. Annoyed, but affectionate all the same.

A woman you didn’t recognize entered tentatively. She had red hair, bright eyes, and curious air about her. Your desk was closer, so she approached you first.

“You must be Agent Y/L/N,” she said. She held out her hand to you with a kind smile. “Dana Scully. I’ve been assigned to work with you and Agent Mulder.”

“Isn’t it nice to be suddenly so highly regarded?” Mulder had turned around, his usual cynicism thick in his tone.

“Ignore him.” You stood, taking a little more effort with the weight of your eight-months pregnant belly. “If it were up to him, I’d be working as soon as I could stand after labor.”

“You make me sound so insensitive,” He said in mock offense. “I’m actually very interested to see what Blevins is concocting by sending Dr. Scully to us.” He stood, crossing his arms and leaving back on the table. “So, who did you tick off to get stuck with this detail, Scully?”

“Actually I’m looking forward to working with you.” She turned back to you. “Both of you, once Agent Y/L/N gets back, of course.”

“Please,” You smiled, “call me Y/N. Unlike my partner, I’m not into the whole last name only thing.”

“Alright, Y/N.” From the look of her polite, yet intrigued smile, you could tell you were going to like her. “I’ve heard a lot about the two of you.”

“And I was under the impression you were sent to spy on us.” Fox snarked.

Mulder proceeded to be Mulder, but Scully didn’t seem deterred. Yes, you were definitely going to like her.

You just stood there, frozen by her stare. Her expression morphed from shock to disbelief to confusion and back.

“Dana-” You started. She cut you off with a hug.

“I thought I’d never see you again.” She said. You could feel the tears welling in your eyes and hugged her back. For that short, perfect moment, it felt like you had a part of your life back. But then you remembered why you were here and who was with you. You pushed away.

“Dana, you can’t be here.”

“What?” She exclaimed. “Y/N, we’ve been looking for you for months. What are you doing here? Where have you been? What’s going on?”

“You have to leave. They probably already know you’re here. When they find out you saw me-”

“What are they making you do? Are you the one that’s been killing those people?” She stepped back.

“It’s…” You took a deep breath. “Complicated.” You put your hands on her shoulders. “I need you to go home. Keep yourself safe. Keep them safe.”

She shrugged your hands off. “Do you have any idea what this has done to him? He’s driving himself insane trying to find you. He goes home to a daughter who doesn’t understand why her mother isn’t coming home and he has to try and be both parents.”

“I’m doing this to keep them safe,” you cried.

She shook her head. “It’s time for you to go home. Y/N, please. We can-”

A flash and a thud stopped her. Scully fell to the floor. You rushed to help her, pulling her into her arms. Alex stood over her, having hit her with the butt of his gun.

“What the hell?” You exclaimed. He looked at you furiously.

“Nowhere to hide now.”

General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination; @mylovegoesto; @yellowbadgergirl; @itmejado; @suckmyapplejacks; @kendahl0216; @yellowbubblewrap

Mulder: @posiemax; @muldersufo; @springholland

#saving grace #fox mulder x reader #x files imagines #grace mulder #dana scully #alex krycek #x files series #fox mulder #david duchovny #gillian anderson

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everybody-loves-purdy · 2 years

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... but the instances of dogs killing the cats ARE few and far between? Four dog killings in 20 years of stories and hundreds of cats over even more time in series? That doesn't even keep up with real life. The cats run into dogs constanly that just chase them or are even friendly all the time, and they live out on the farmland where I presume they're dealing with farm dogs who are trained to attack predators like foxes and coyotes to protect livestock. They aren't running into some well trained tiny show dogs, its a whole pack of dogs that have no owner in sight out in the farmland obviously something's gone wrong.

Also it's a series about cats, they're gonna use their "natural enemy" for the drama and of course no matter what it's going to be brutal and horrifying from the perspective of the animal being killed in the scenario. Also they're predators, maybe some dog lovers don't wanna hear anything bad about their precious babies but dogs sometimes just kill small animals, like all the time, even when they're just playing. There is a reason you leash train them, and don't just let them wander, and you have to replace broken toys. They are predators. And this is before you bring the fact that these books are simply dramatized from the perspective of cats.

Two instances of an onscreen mauling across nearly 100 books where cats die left and right does not indicate they "hate dogs". Honestly given how incredibly rare it is despite how close these cats live to dogs and how every single time there's a clear excuse even if it isn't outright stated shows the opposite, and given they go out of their way to show cats who have dog companions it comes off as the opposite.

Dogs are one of the cat's predators that they face, it's not hatred to depict dogs being predators, or do they also hate badgers and snakes? Especially snake bites get significantly more greusome kills. But I guess no snake lover is going to accuse them of portraying snakes doing what snakes can do from the perspective of their victims as "snake haters." Do they hate cats because of cats like tigerstar and darktail who are depicted specifically with malicious intent and even the good cats have kills under their belt? If the series was told from the perspective of the mice they kill every day? No, I don't think anyone would.

Out of curiosity just because I’m not sure of the connection- but why would UK authors have anything of relevance here? Just genuinely curious since I’m from the UK and I wouldn’t know the relevance here.

We were just talking about how recently the brutality of dogs attacks has seemingly increased while there are less dog encounters overall. In Vicky’s era curious, boisterous, presumably not too harmful dogs popped up from time to time and chased the cats around for a bit but that seems to be much less so recently. Now when dogs are used at all they only seemed to be used for the purpose of causing a particularly brutal death rather than chase scenes. I remember a chase scene in Hawkwing’s Journey and maybe one in apprentice’s quest? But in Vikcy’s era these chases did seem to have more frequency.

And I am extremely aware dogs are predators, and will kill things (in the warriors universe they are the non-cat animal directly responsible for the most known animal attack deaths), but the recent portrayal of dogs in warriors just seems to generally be more savage as a whole than they used to be.

Like I mentioned (but I don’t think I made clear sorry) I really don’t think it’s dog hatred I just think it’s a case of “ok we need a brutal kill - dog attack is effective here” because let’s face it, for books set in the UK bloodlusted dogs would be the most dangerous animal threat for a cat to face. What I’m trying to say is that there seems to be a slight shift in how dogs portrayed recently - but again I should stress I don’t think this is dog hatred, just a convenient threat paired with probably not having enough time to put a chase scene with a terrier or something in at another point.

#anonymous

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veryreallyfuckinbad · 3 years

Text

FIRE AND MOSS // Daryl Dixon X Reader// CHAPTER 1

You weren’t sure how much longer you could keep sprinting. All you were able to hear were the ghostly, haunting wails of the dead. They were a sound that you’ve grown accustomed to, but they never failed to make you uneasy, no matter how many times you’ve heard them. You never thought it would end like this, torn to shreds by walkers. But what were you expecting? Dying as a hero? Dying to a human, when they were so few and far between? Hell, dying of starvation was better than sharing the fate of the dead people walking. Anything was better than ending up like the group of walkers chasing you down the street.

The scorching heat definitely didn’t help. You were never fond of the Georgian heat and despite having grown up here, you simply disliked how uncomfortable and sticky everything felt. But today, you were convinced that if you cracked a raw egg on the street, it would easily cook. The road was surrounded by greenery, a forest nearby. It was oddly beautiful, the grass growing out of the cracks in the concrete, the flowers blooming around you.

Your legs were starting to give out. You knew that if you didn’t figure something out, and quick, you were as good as dead. Your knife was tucked in its sheath, but once you heard snarls and growls of a nearby walker that wandered from the opposite side of the street, you unsheathed it and threw the knife straight into the dead man’s head, cracking his skull open and sending it flying down on the hot concrete. Despite how tired you were, you felt a smirk creep up on your face- even when running for your life, almost collapsing out of sheer exhaustion, your skills with a blade didn’t let you down. Quickly bending down to retrieve your trusty knife, you pulled it out of the walker’s skull with a slight grunt and grimaced as some blood hit your face. Shit. Not only were you sweaty, you were also covered in walker blood just because you pulled your knife out too quickly.

You were about to quickly curse the dead man for making you even dirtier than you already were, but your head shot up when you heard a loud, consistent noise. A car alarm went off. This was your only chance, you thought. You didn’t take time to wonder why the alarm was blaring, maybe one of the dead bumped into an abandoned car. Frankly, you didn’t care. You looked around and nearly gasped when you saw it- an opening to the forest. You felt a sudden rush of adrenaline and made a run for it, praying to every deity that the dead were too distracted with the loud noise of the alarm to notice you slip away.

Your prayers were answered. You managed to slip into the lush forest unnoticed. Deciding to walk deeper into the woodland, you sheathed your knife and gave it a gentle pat, as if thanking it for saving your life.

The forest was serene and quiet. The trees gave you shade and cooled you down a little. Looking up, you saw a bird fly up to its nest. Despite you being in grave danger, practically at all times, life went on for other creatures. Moss grew over stones and tree trunks, the occasional mushroom could be found here and there. Instead of the growls of the dead, all you could hear now was the calm rustling of the trees and the sounds of woodland creatures, mainly the quiet chirping of birds. For the first time in what seemed like forever, you felt at peace.

Suddenly, the sound of rushing water could be heard. There must have been a river nearby. Hurrying over to find the source of the sound, you almost tripped over a root that was sticking out of the ground, barely managing to get hold of a tree before you could fall. You couldn’t help your excitement; you were dehydrated, sweaty and tired- any body of water would be a blessing.

“Oh, fuck yes” was all you said under your breath when you saw it- a beautiful, small creek and a tiny pond connected to it. Rocks were scattered across the river bank, moss covering most of them. Trees were growing out of the edge of the bank, one bending right over the pond. Green ferns surrounded the other side of the lake, gently rustling with every gust of wind. You noticed a big weeping willow and decided to lay your backpack underneath it. Your knife was still attached to your pants- it wasn’t a good idea to leave it on the bank. ‘Better safe than sorry’ you thought.

You contemplated for a second, wondering whether you should take your clothes off but decided against it- you might need to get up and run any second and running through a forest naked, possibly being chased by walkers didn’t sound like much fun. Not that running from them fully clothed was a blast.

You quickly kicked off your boots and splashed some water on your face, allowing it to drip from your lips and chin. You couldn’t help but smile and sigh, finally able to relax and rest. The water was clear- you could see the rocks on the bottom of the lake and some stray leaves that fell in. You could also see your reflection- your hair was matted, some knots forming in it and your face sunken down, dark bags under your eyes from staying awake and alert at all times. You sighed and let yourself submerge in the water- it wasn’t nearly as good as a shower, but you knew that a shower is a luxury that was far out of your reach.

Sitting under the willow, hair and clothes wet, you played with your knife in your hands. The dark brown, wooden handle was wrapped in a bandage for easier grip- that way it never slipped out of your hand. You smiled when you remembered receiving the knife. Your previous group was like family to you- they taught you everything you know. Everything from sharpening knives to killing walkers or skinning squirrels. You owed your life to them, but you will forever remember one of them- Jake. He was a tall guy, middle aged you would guess, not that it mattered anymore. His hair was a dirty blonde color and his face was speckled with freckles. He was like a father to you, he was the one who gave you your knife, and he came up with its nickname- Artemis. During one of the rare, calm and starry nights he sat on top of his truck with you while the rest of your group was asleep. He explained why he named your knife Artemis- he said it’s the name of a Greek goddess, patron of nature and hunts. You were never big on mythology, only knowing a few of the most popular myths.

“So, you named her after the goddess of nature for me to shamelessly murder innocent woodland critters with it?” You joked, “Don’t think she would be too happy about that”

He laughed and playfully punched your shoulder, making you swat at him with your hand

“Nah, I’m sure she would understand. Hunting was her thing” Jake said, sighing and gave you a small smile.

You shook your head, not even trying to understand. You felt at peace, safe even. He treated you like his daughter more than a fellow survivor. He saved your life when you almost starved to death and took you in. Ever since then, he took it upon himself to keep you safe. He said you reminded him of his daughter, but you never asked him to elaborate, as his eyes always darkened when he spoke about her. Jake made you feel like as long as he was around, nothing would ever happen to you.

And then everything went to shit.

When you were all asleep peacefully, a herd passed through your camp. They must’ve seen your campfire or heard you speak from afar. You saw your entire group get mauled and torn apart, right before your eyes. You saw Jake die. Before he met his end, he managed to say one last thing.

“Run”

You quickly shook your head and stood up, stretching. The leaves hanging from the willow above you swayed in the wind, one of them tickling your neck and almost making you jump out of your skin, you held Artemis out and turned around, sighing.

You had to admit, you were paranoid. But you didn’t think it was a bad thing- it was either being careful or being dead.

Your head whipped back to the pond, hearing rustling and the snapping of branches coming from the ferns opposite of you. If it was one walker, you could handle it. It would probably fall in the pond anyway, making your job easier.

You almost gasped when you saw a flash of reddish-brown come out from between the greenery- you couldn’t help but smile and shake your head. It was just a fox who had come to the pond to drink some water.

You examined the animal- he looked unhealthy, but still beautiful. His fur was matted and he looked malnourished. You noticed the nick in one of his black ears and wondered how he got it. His fur looked like a flame, contrasting against the green grass and moss. He had ears that looked like they were too big for his head. Deciding to watch from afar as not to startle the animal, you sat cross legged by the shore of the lake. Your eyes shot up when you noticed the blood dripping down one of his hind legs- he had a massive cut on his leg. It went all the way from his hip to his paw, coloring his fur crimson. As soon as he tried to swallow the water, he began heaving and choking, his breathing became shallow. Eventually, he collapsed on his side.

You couldn’t just sit back and watch this poor animal die. You didn’t have the heart not to help him, and you had to admit it- you were lonely as hell. Anything would do, even the company of a wild animal in need. You jumped up from the grass you sat on and ran into the water, trying your best not to slip on any of the rocks that littered the bottom of the lake, which was shallow enough for you to cross without needing to swim.

You ran up to the fox, contemplating what to do. His leg was bleeding badly, you needed to stop it or he wouldn’t make it until morning. It looked at you, terrified.

“Fuck, shit, what the hell do I do?” You tried not to panic but couldn’t help the string of curses escaping your mouth.

Suddenly, you got an idea. You remembered that your knife’s handle was wrapped in bandages, and even though you hated the idea of sacrificing the comfort of having the handle wrapped in them, you decided that he needed them more. You weren’t sure whether to bring your backpack and knife to the other side of the pond or take the animal to your makeshift camp under the willow.

You decided on the latter, picking the fox up as gently as you could and walked into the water, holding him up so he didn’t get wet. As soon as you made it to the other side you carefully laid him down on the grass, making sure not to touch his injured leg. You quickly grabbed Artemis and unwrapped the bandages from the handle.

“You better be grateful” you said, half to the fox, half to yourself. If Jake could see you right now, he would be so mad. He would tell you not to waste resources on a dying animal that will run away or die anyway. Maybe he was right, but you couldn’t help yourself. You saw a lot of yourself in the fox, scared, tired of running away, afraid of anything and everything.

You sighed and grabbed the bandages, ripping them in half.

“This might hurt, but I promise I’m trying to help” you whispered under your breath and gently stroked his head. He didn’t flinch or bite you, probably because he didn’t have enough strength to do so. You took a deep breath and grabbed one half of the bandages and pressed them against his wound, flinching when the animal shrieked due to the sudden pressure on his wounded leg. You knew you were helping but couldn’t help but feel bad. You noticed it was getting dark, looking around with your hands still firmly pressed against his wound. You sighed, knowing you’ll need to light a campfire soon.

Once his bleeding seemed to lessen, you let go of his leg and looked at your hands. They were covered in blood, but it was nothing new. ‘Better than walker blood, I guess’ you thought to yourself as you made your way over to the pond to wash the blood off and quickly returned to the animal.

“Now, this won’t hurt as much but I’ll need you to stay still” you looked him in the eyes and stroked his head, between his comically big ears. He seemed to calm down, looking at you with less terror and more confusion.

Taking the other half of the bandages, you kneeled next to him and gently lifted his leg, trying to cause him as little pain as possible. He didn’t make a sound this time and let you wrap the bandage around his leg. You couldn’t help but think that he must know you’re helping. You knew it was a stupid thought, but something in his eyes and the way he calmed down whenever you stroked his flame-colored fur told you he trusted you.

“I will be right back, I promise. I just need to get a fire going because someone forced me to get into the pond again and I need to dry off.” You explained, smirking, noticing how good it felt to finally have someone to talk to- even if it was a confused, wounded fox.

Once you gathered all the wood and branches you could find, you laid them down in a pile and surrounded it with rocks so the fire wouldn’t spread. Grabbing your backpack, you pulled out a lighter and looked at the smoldering branches. Poking the wood a with a stick a few times, you finally sat down next to the fox again and watched the flame grow.

Then, you remembered- you had a water bottle and a package of dried jerky in your backpack. Smiling, you pulled them out and took a sip of water and opened the jerky. The foxes ears shot up when he heard the rustle of the plastic wrapping. He looked at you and licked his snout, giving you puppy eyes.

“Oh, come on man. This is my last food! I literally don’t have any more.” You whined, hoping that the animal could somehow understand you. Sadly, he couldn’t. His gaze flickered from the piece of jerky to your face. You sighed and gave in when he flipped over, so he was laying on his stomach, his tail moving gently, kind of like a dog wagging its tail when it sees its owner.

“There you go” you dipped your head, handing him the piece of meat, the fox gently taking it from your hand, as if afraid to graze you with its sharp teeth “But if I starve, it’s on you” you pointed your finger at him, once again hoping he understood.

The fox ended up eating all of your food, but the second his head pushed against your hand, shuffling over so his head was on your lap, you knew it was worth it.

“Feeling better, huh?” you gave his head a pat with a smile, “I know you’ll be gone in the morning, it’s okay. Go when you want to” you were surprised by yourself, by how much you missed speaking to another living creature.

You heard a branch snap on the other side of the pond and your head shot up, just like the foxes ears. You both looked at the source of the sound, but couldn’t make anything out- it was too dark. You lifted the animal’s head off your lap as gently as you could and grabbing your knife, made your way to the shore of the lake. Feeling bold, you sheathed the blade and grabbed two big rocks, banging them against each other.

“Come on, you dead fuck! Come up here so I can get this over with and sleep in peace!” you screamed, trying to lure the walker out, but nothing came out. Not even a single undead moan. You stood by the shore for a while, making sure that it really was nothing before coming back to sit with the fox, the animal once again put his head on your lap.

You looked over at him and ran your hands through his fur “What do you think? Was it just an animal?” you genuinely hoped that the fox would tell you, all you wanted to do was relax for a few hours, maybe get some shut eye. He just looked up at you and moved his head into your hand, wanting to be pet some more. After making sure you would keep petting him, he laid his head in your lap.

“So that’s what I am? A pillow, huh?” You whispered gently, loving the feeling of a wild, elusive animal trusting you.

You opened your eyes and rubbed them, sighing. You haven’t slept this well in a long time. No noises woke you up, you didn’t even have a nightmare.

You expected the fox to be gone, back in the wild, tearing your bandage off with its teeth, but you were wrong. He was sitting curled up beside you, awake, as if keeping watch. You grinned and ruffled his fur lovingly, holding yourself back from kissing his head- you had to admit it, he was the cutest thing you’ve ever seen.

“So, since you insist on staying, what’s your name, huh?” you looked at him, still stroking his fire-colored pelt. “Floppy? ‘Cause you know, the ears.” You grimaced and shook your head, “Nah, you need a more badass name. Like… like the most badass person I know. Jake. You like that?” he squeaked, resembling a bark but more high pitched. He suddenly stood up and you glanced at his leg. He was standing on all four legs, not even a limp. You guessed the wound wasn’t as deep as you thought. He trotted over to something and came back to you, looking up at you and walking back to whatever he wanted to share with you.

“What is it, huh?” Curiously, you went over to where Jake was standing. He was sniffing something, looking at what he found and then flicking his gaze back to you.

Kneeling down, you were surprised to see a small bag. It wasn’t there yesterday. Concerned, you opened it and saw a water bottle, a bag of dried jerky, a dead squirrel and some bandages.

“What the—“ you couldn’t finish as you saw Jake put his snout inside the bag, getting stuck. You laughed a bit and pulled it off his head. He shook his head, sneezed and licked his nose. Reaching into the bag again, you saw one more thing. A note.

“SQUIRREL FOR THE FOX”

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl x y/n #twd daryl #the walking dead #twd fanfiction #daryl x reader #daryl dixion imagine #the walking dead daryl

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crystalirises · 3 years

Note

Your Prompt is this picture/concept! I hope you have fun.

(Art by: p1neapplerum, https://p1neapplerum.tumblr.com/)

Oh :000 I've seen this art on Tumblr actually.

Of course, the art belongs to p1neapplerum, the credit belongs to them and also check out their stuff.

I'm just here to make a one-shot out of the concept of the art, though I'm not really good with interpreting messages in art (ask my art teacher, the panic I felt each time I got called to say what I think the meaning of a piece of art is) so what I might write might not be the story they're going for.

Anyway, hey Pillow! Thank you again for the prompt and I did my best to sorta make a plot but I don't know what the story behind it is so this is just my interpretation of what just happened.

I'm pretty sure the first part of the art is like a separate thing from the other stuff? But I'm just gonna assume Wil accidentally got turned into a fox by a witch and while he was waiting to turn back, little kit Fundy found him and decided then and there that Wil is now his dad.

So... yeah.

I didn't know what I was doing but I hope it's good enough XD.

Wilbur had royally fucked himself over.

It wasn’t enough that he’d offended a witch - OH NO - now he was a fucking fox.

He settled underneath a tree canopy, his mind racing with solutions.

Wilbur couldn’t go home like this. Well, he could, but his brothers would never let him live it down. He’d be lucky if Phil found him first, but he highly doubted that.

He glanced down at his soft, furry brown paws, wincing at the thought of coming home like this. A witch’s spell could only last for so long, he only needed to wait it out. Wilbur let out a small huff, resting his tired head on the ground, his fox tail thumping slowly behind him. You would think for a river witch, he’d be turned into a salmon or something. Then again, he’d rather be a fox. Less chance of him getting hunted down by his own family this way. Techno did love his foxes and he’d sooner bring Wilbur home with him than hunt him for his hide and meat.

The wind ruffled at his fur, his skin itching with the foreign feeling of having fur all over him. He moved deeper into the tree canopy, the leaves providing cover from the scorching sun above. Wilbur found a small hole within the tangle of tree roots, and while he couldn’t fit into it, he settled right next to it. If he was lucky, maybe he wouldn’t be attacked by a snake whose territory he’d just laid down next to. Wilbur took a deep breath, he should probably sleep the curse away.

His eyes fluttered close, but it was barely minute before he heard a low growl come from next to him. His eyes snapped open, instincts forcing him to his feet. FUCK HE FORGOT ABOUT THE WOLVES! He turned to leave, but a sharp pain travelled throughout his whole body. His fur bristled, a low whine escaping his throat as he angrily turned around to face his enemy. Only... it wasn’t a wolf.

A little fox kit was biting his tail... oh, fuck.

Wilbur wagged his tail, but the kit wouldn’t let it go. If anything, it’s little teeth sunk deeper into his tail, causing him to yelp in pain. That seemed to give the kit pause, after a moment, it reluctantly let go. He sighed, awkwardly patting the kit on the head before moving away. A kit meant a litter, and a litter meant a vixen. He’d rather not get mauled to death by a mother fox today, no thank you. He moved away from the oak tree, heading deeper into the forest before settling underneath a small berry bush. He laid down, content to finally take a short nap.

That was short-lived. A small weight settled over his back, a snout nuzzling into the back of his neck. Wilbur froze, turning his head. The kit had followed him, its tail wagging behind it happily. Unfortunately, that was when the curse wore off.

“PHIL! DAD, PLEASE HELP ME!”

He looked up, heart beating loudly in his chest. Wilbur had gone into the forest today - and while Phil would never question his son’s whereabouts - it had been hours, and now his son was calling for help. He flew out of the large window, ignoring his other sons’ screams of surprise. Phil let the wind carry him towards the tree line, his son’s disheveled form standing out against the flower field that surrounded their home. He landed gently, his wings letting out a gust of wind.

“Wilbur, what—” He cut himself off. Wilbur was holding a fox kit in his hands, and every few seconds, the fox would shapeshift into a more humanoid form. It continued to do that before finally settling into its humanoid form. “WILBUR—”

“A witch turned me into a fox and now this kit came out of nowhere and wouldn’t leave.” Wilbur held the fox out, a terrified look in his eyes. From the look of his cheeks, Phil could tell that Wilbur had been crying. “He wouldn’t leave me alone even after I turned back and now I’m a dad! I’m a dad! Phil, what do I do?!”

Phil sighed, “I disown you.”

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No, Phil did not actually disown Wil. It’s a joke, pls. It’s a joke.

#wilbur soot #fundy #philza #dream smp fanfiction #dsmp

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linxuelian · 4 years

Text

I found a Chinese BL Warring States Game of Thrones, three years older than The Untamed

And I just had to write a review about it! It’s 60 episodes long so I haven’t finished it yet at the time I’m writing this - but I decided to just go ahead and recommend it anyway.

Why, you ask?

For one, it’s Romance of the Three Kingdoms with all the Hollywood action and adult HBO things. It’s got explosions:

Horses falling down:

People getting flogged:

Sweaty soldiers getting mauled to death:

Children used as hostages:

Dead bodies presented in court:

Stylish dye jobs:

Loving father figures:

A Jon Snow lookalike:

And very gay innuendo:

That’s right, unlike The Untamed, which was first written as a straight series featuring Wen Qing as the main female lead and then rewritten again after fans of the novel decided to boycott it, this series was written to be gay from the very beginning. It got taken down by the Chinese Censorship Board after twelve episodes and river-crabbed to death, but a good number of scenes survived censorship. Those that did not made it to BiliBili in the form of “hidden” videos and disguised as “music videos”.

That’s not all. For a warring period Wuxia series, it’s got very beautiful actors, backdrops and clothing. It’s dressed like a fairy tale, with different kingdoms sporting different colours and styles in fashion and tastes.

In terms of art direction, it’s pretty low-budget for a series but the team makes good use of existing props, locations and brighter-coloured fabric to make up for the quality. The costume design is more fantasy-based than period, and the vivid takes and angles in the first season add to its charm.

There’s also its complex story line, which brings us to...

Men with Swords is not a title for the faint-hearted. There is an acute absence of black-and-white morality depicted in it.

If you think a BL series with such beautiful backdrops and fairytale-like clothes is for the simple-minded, one-track-good-vs-evil sort, think again. The series is a tale about Murong Li, a vengeful prince disguised as a musician and his rise to power, leaving behind a trail of death and destruction in its wake.

Where The Untamed fails at delivering gray morality unlike the novel it’s adapted from, choosing to alter its script to fit a more general audience (a commercially-wise decision which got it into Netflix), Men with Swords succeeds in faithfully telling a tale where there is no good or evil, only humanity, jealousy, grudges, rebellion, loyalty, life, death, greed and love.

Everyone has both good and bad sides, just different camps and motives. Men with Swords tells the story from not just one person’s perspective, but from the perspective of many different people, all of whom become entangled in a battle for their figurative Iron Throne - to become the king of the world.

There are no “what ifs” in this story, only decisions, reactions and repercussions

A prevailing theme in this series is that there are no “what ifs” and no turning back in life, only things that have happened and will happen. Murong Li starts his journey as a prince who has lost everything and a victim of war, wandering around for three years while being put down and getting sexually harassed, eventually losing it, taking his chances and hardening his heart as he walks down his conniving, badass path of destruction towards the top.

Men with Swords is not a series for the faint-hearted. It’s a game of chess where the main character, Murong Li, is cunning and decisive, cold and ruthless and many recurring characters die horrible, sudden deaths, friend and foe alike, a la Attack on Titan.

The series is filled with political strife and warfare, peppered with some sweet, comedic and romantic undertones. There is a stark contrast between fluffy and dark in its narrative, which is pretty refreshing overall.

With that all aside, I know what you’re probably scrolling down for:

The main characters and their boyfriends

This is it. This is what you’re here for. Most “BL” series are actually bromances, but the real upside for a BL fan is that this show is not a bromance - it’s a BL title, and even with censorship, the love stories prevail.

I’m going to put this under a cut because it’s LONG AF, but what that means is that there is a LOT of BL content available, and not the type that you have to hunt for. They’re very open about it.

While the show itself has a lot of ships, there’s a larger focus on three main ones, namely the beautiful Murong Li and two powerful kings, the fairy-like Ling Guang and his servants, and King Jian Bin with his general.

Murong Li: Da Ji 2.0 and his rich and powerful kings

If you’re a Jin Guangyao fan, you’ll probably enjoy Murong Li and his elegant, charming viles and ruthless scheming. He’s a surprisingly good fighter too, and unlike most elegant and waif-like beauties in dramas and novels alike, he’s a beauty with brains who uses his physical weakness as his strength, bending and seducing his way up to power.

Murong Li only really goes after rich and powerful people, worming his way into the kingdom and taking them down from the inside. Two main love interests are King Zhi Ming, the childish but rich king of Tianquan:

And Yu Xiao, a powerful barbarian king with a soft heart:

Murong Li, while wandering around as a musician, picks up many tricks along the way to hone himself. He’s adept at dressing up, making himself look helpless and alluring to bewitch powerful men, for one:

See that small smile right there? Yes, our boy knows what he’s doing.

Aside from that, Murong Li’s also pretty good at manipulating people by using their jealousies and insecurities, getting them to fight with each other over him.

Murong Li, although modeled after the cruel and beautiful Murong Chong, the Emperor of Wei, is likened to Da Ji, the favorite consort of the King Zhou of Shang. Da Ji was said to be a malevolent fox spirit who started the art of foot-binding to hide her fox feet. Everyone else looking in can see it, but the King was blinded, just like Murong Li’s powerful love interests. In fact, the series draws a direct parallel to it:

The Guo Shi here uses the term “yao”, which alludes to a malevolent spirit.

It’s not that Murong Li doesn’t have a weakness, though. Just like every Jin Guangyao has a Lan Xichen around to cause him to slip now and then, Murong Li surprisingly is weak towards the most naive and childish character in the series, the truant King Zhi Ming, whose only qualities are having purple bangs and being rich and playful.

No matter how calculative and ruthless Murong Li is in the series, he does end up almost slipping up and giving everything away when it comes to this bumbling fellow:

He’s saved only at the nick of time by one of his followers. Murong Li tells a lot of lies, but the one thing he can’t lie about are his feelings towards King Zhi Ming, who is ultimately the one thing he can’t give up next to his kingdom.

There’s a lot more one can write about a complex character such as Murong Li, but the second ship is just as good. It features:

Ling Guang: The Ex-Arrogant Depressed Hamster hung up over a dead ex

Ling Guang, the mortal enemy and foil to Murong Li, is a baby-faced, very-much-older-than-he-looks character whose sole purpose in this series is to wear frilly magenta clothing, destroy the kingdom of Yaoguang, set Murong Li down a path of vengeful destruction and piss off eligible, probably younger bachelors by comparing them to his very handsome, very loyal and very dead boyfriend, his personal guard, Qiu Zhen, who died sometime over thirteen years ago.

The bachelors’ pissed off takes to this are particularly priceless:

Here’s another one from season 2:

That HMPH face is to die for.

Ling Guang’s delusions are met head-on by these eligible bachelors, his ministers and his allies alike:

Only to be met by a, “haha, NO.”

Frustrating, right? It only gets worse as the series progresses. Due to Wuxia’s fantastical existence of sword souls, he begins to actively test his subjects out to see if they’re his dead boyfriend, whose sword soul is still alive:

Gu Shi’an: WTF.

So why do these eligible, handsome bachelors, particularly this guy from season two, jump at his lap every chance they get?

First off, he’s very, very pretty. He’s arguably the prettiest and fanciest king in the series, with a cute rounded face, favoring fluffy organza, frills and feathers in his garb, and sporting fabulous curls like that of a swan princess on a good day.

Secondly, and more importantly, it’s likely because he’s the type loyal dogs adore.

He’s stupidly and openly attached to his bodyguards and servants, unable to hide his feelings or control them. Ling Guang’s relationships are technically the opposite of Murong Li’s. While Murong Li hides his feelings and goes after men of power and tends to use them before leaving them, Ling Guang’s willing to sacrifice everything, including his kingdom, his health and his own life for men who are merely servants.

He's a king who doesn’t know proper protocol. He’s the type who’ll demand to eat with you at the same table:

Creeps outside the palace to see you off:

Hugs your sword around like a pillow while he waddles around listlessly and sleeps with it by his side after you’re long dead (grand total: 13 years):

Coddles you when you’re sick:

Takes arrows for you:

Isn’t afraid to cry and tell you how it is:

Faints violently and won’t rest until he can get your stolen body back:

The results?

If he’s not what loyal bodyguards like, I don’t know what he is. If Murong Li’s love interests have to pit themselves against each other to show how useful they are for his sake, Ling Guang’s love interests need to wrestle with a dead man he can’t let go of... which is hopeless, because you can’t kill a guy who’s already dead.

As a foil to Murong Li, what’s also interesting to note is that it’s alluded to and foreshadowed that he’s exactly the sort the loyal Yu Xiao, the current barbarian king, would have loved to have as a lover - honest, loyal and doting - unlike Murong Li himself. Gongsun Qian, a deputy minister with great foresight, had wanted Ling Guang to go to see the new barbarian kingdom, but he had refused to go outside the palace, shutting himself inside like an otaku. This decision ultimately gave Murong Li a step forward with his plans, at the great cost of four kingdoms, including his own.

Jian Bin: My boyfriend can (REALLY) fight

Next up is Jian Bin and his general. Jian Bin’s the king of Tian Ji, a new kingdom founded by astrologers. The catch here is that Jian Bin and his boyfriend, Qi Zhi Kan, are both men of science, and this tank of a boyfriend is a genius on the battlefield who doesn’t give a single shit about star signs, astrology and superstitions.

A story between a serious, loving king and his handsome general who was once a simple sword-maker in the woods, King Jian Bin meets his handsome ex-lumberjack boyfriend when he’s attacked, falls down from his horse and is rescued by the man himself.

Jian Bin then brings the guy back to his palace and dresses him in armor:

This puts the king’s general on the war path of several ministers and the superstitious people in their kingdom. As lovers, the two go through various trials together in an attempt to run their kingdom their way.

Qi Zhi Kan may seem like a herbivore in front of the king, but he’s really not one at all. He’s terrifying to a degree when it comes to warfare, and very, very difficult to take down. Unlike the other ministers, Qi Zhi Kan knows that he can expand the kingdom quickly and solve problems by waging war.

Even his allies are scared of him:

Ultimately, it’s a ship meant for those who like watching the king teasing his loyal subject and caressing armor whenever he’s around AND not around. Jian Bin even admits to it on-scene:

This loving and devoted couple were originally blessed as the ones with the most piggyback scenes, tender bandaging-your-chest and armor fondling, but they got censored unfortunately.

Scenes like these made the cut, though:

And that’s it! There are actually other minor ships, but these are the main ones for now.

If you’re sold and interested in the show, the series is available online on Rakuten Viki. https://www.viki.com/tv/35524c?locale=zh

#bl series #chinese bl #series recommendations #c-drama #men with sword #chinese period drama

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