#mimic escapes and causes havoc

[kuijoon]

AU where everything is the same except Sampo is one of those cryptids from the back alley. The ones who mimic people living there (and probably kill them)

[meyerbees]

Effective Hive Beetle Traps: Safeguarding Your Beehive

Beekeeping is a rewarding and captivating hobby, but it comes with its set of challenges. One of these challenges is dealing with hive beetles, a nuisance that can wreak havoc on your precious bee colony. In this article, we'll explore the importance of using hive beetle traps to protect your hives and ensure the well-being of your bees.

The Hive Beetle Challenge:- Hive beetles, also known as small hive beetles (Aethina tumida), are invasive pests that can infiltrate bee colonies and cause significant damage. Native to sub-Saharan Africa, these beetles have spread to various parts of the world, including the United States. They thrive in warm and humid climates, making them a concern for beekeepers in many regions.

The Threat Posed by Hive Beetles

Hive beetles can pose several threats to your bee colony:

Laying Eggs in Hive: Adult hive beetles lay their eggs in beehives, usually in cracks and crevices of the hive bodies or frames. Once the eggs hatch, the beetle larvae can consume bee brood, pollen, honey, and even destroy comb.

Fermentation of Honey: Hive beetle larvae have a penchant for fermenting honey, turning it into a slimy mess that can lead to the fermentation of the entire hive.

Hive Disruption: The presence of hive beetles can disrupt the normal functioning of the colony, leading to stressed and weakened bees.

The Role of Hive Beetle Traps:- Hive beetle traps are a vital tool in your beekeeping arsenal to combat this pest. These traps are designed to capture adult hive beetles and prevent them from laying eggs in your hives. Here's how they work:

Luring Mechanism: Hive beetle traps use luring mechanisms to attract adult beetles. These mechanisms often mimic the scent of a beehive, making them enticing to the pests.

Containment: Once inside the trap, the beetles are contained and unable to escape. This prevents them from laying eggs and causing further harm.

Monitoring and Control: Hive beetle traps also serve as a monitoring tool. Beekeepers can check the traps regularly to assess the beetle population and take necessary action if the infestation is severe.

Benefits of Using Hive Beetle Traps

Protection for Your Bees: Hive beetle traps provide an added layer of protection for your bee colony, ensuring they are not subjected to the damage and stress caused by these invasive pests.

Prevent Hive Contamination: By capturing adult beetles, the traps help prevent the fermentation of honey and the destruction of comb, preserving the overall health of your hive.

Early Detection: Regularly monitoring your hive beetle traps allows for early detection of infestations. This proactive approach can help you take swift action to control the beetle population.

Where to Find Hive Beetle Traps:- Hive beetle traps are readily available from beekeeping supply stores and online retailers. You can explore a range of options designed to suit your specific needs and preferences. To find the right hive beetle trap for your beehives, visit this page to explore a variety of beekeeping treatments, including effective hive beetle traps.

Hive beetle traps are an essential component of your beekeeping toolkit. By using these traps, you can protect your bee colonies from the damaging effects of hive beetles and ensure that your bees thrive in a safe and healthy environment. Don't let these small pests jeopardize the well-being of your bees; invest in hive beetle traps to safeguard your hives and enjoy a successful beekeeping experience.

[meretextuality]

Intro

As a young girl I could sense the darkness in the world around me. I could feel it zeroing in, circling above me with the intent to devour. I also had a distinct, desperate ache for something more than whatever my life was. That heightened awareness combined with my sinful nature drove me to escapism, the practice and pleasure of living in the make-believe.

Over the years this pursuit has led me down different paths but the written word, storytelling, was my first and foremost escape. In those words, I was more than myself. In those words, I was perfect. In those words, I was victorious.

I began to mimic the stories I read, wanting to create a world for myself with that same happy ending. But in the real world, I could never achieve the same result; I couldn’t get past the darkness, the emptiness, the wanting that somehow festered in the heart of an eight-year-old girl. So my words, journal entries at the time, were those of selfishness, discontentment, and pride.

Maybe one day I’ll become a writer, I told myself.  Maybe one day I’ll write something that matters. 

As time passed, life happened. My loving, godly father took his own life after battling lifelong neurological and physical ailments. I spent several years fighting the endometriosis that wreaked havoc on my own mind and body. My husband and I suffered our first, and Lord willing only, miscarriage. Not to mention the self-inflicted woes of a wanderer looking for home in all the wrong places. 

About four years ago I came, again, to the end of myself. By God’s astounding, merciful grace, this is when I discovered the Christian Imagination. This is when I learned that the reason for my words, and everything else for that matter, is Christ. 

I learned to cry out with the Psalmist, to lay myself bare before my Savior, begging him for rescue, forgiveness, peace, and the will to obey. I clung to the Word because my life depended on it.

I was introduced to the poetic efforts of George Herbert and took up his practice of saying beautifully as a means of seeing—and being—in the presence of God.

I read Andrew Peterson, who encouraged me to set fire to my fears, pride, and insecurities and instead tell the truth of the gospel as beautifully as I can, with whatever humble gifts I’ve been given. 

Leland Ryken taught me that anything that affirms order consoles; to name something distressing is a step toward mastering it.

Karen Swallow Prior taught me that it’s through language that the self becomes. Even now, in the process of writing this page, I am more myself than I was when I started. Order was made from the chaos of my mind.

In the following days, months, and years I wrote myself a new existence. Finally, a story worth telling. These prayer journals were littered with sins, more than my eight-year-old brain could fathom. But while hemmed in by mountains of sin, God showed me his glory. Living in the depths, I worshiped him in the heights. Truly, I found that the valley is the place of vision.

Today I am still wretched. My sin is ever before me. But I am kept and called by Christ. In him I am complete. In his presence, I have the fullness of joy. In his light I see light.

If you have somehow found your way to my little corner of the internet, thank you for being here. This is a reference guide of words that have shaped me over the last decade—books, scripture, poetry—and my attempts at writing as an act of communion with God. It’s an earnest snapshot of my walk with the Lord.

I hope you’ll find encouragement in the same truths that cause me to worship our Creator. Maybe you’ll find something that resonates. If you read anything of mine, I hope my imperfect words tell the story of the perfect Son of God who lived, died, and rose again, so that a sinner such as I could be cleansed and called to new life in Christ. 

—DMR

Soul in Progress 

I

Heart heavy, soul in shambles,  I want to love you but my disgusting mind refuses. I’m so weary of this battle,  Exhausted by my stubborn, unrelenting need to feed my darkness. Why, cold soul, do you not surrender? Accept the Love you don’t deserve. It is boundless, a stream of perfect delight that is already yours. You sick, depraved soul, draw near to the eternal well and drink.   Drink deeply, and never thirst again. Spirit, strive strong in me.   Take over my thoughts and emotions.   Make them new, make them You. Father, I feel like I am torn apart.  I think I am at my lowest. I am spent and all I feel is pain.  I hate how much I love my sin.  What am I even holding on to? I am weak and weary.  I long for rest. But this ache is overpowering  And I can’t make it stop.

My soul clings to the dust.  Give me life according to your Word.

II My Lord knows my grossest thought basest longing foulest feeling And still He loves me.

I cry to Him and He says, I know. I know what you are made of: Half glory, half dust. Already, not yet. Hold fast to me— I am holding on to you.

III

In you, God, I am free.  I have nothing, I am nothing,  but in you I have all. I gave myself up to get grace.  Now In the silence of private moments I feel you close.  I am not alone.  Give me this feeling forever.

When the not-yetness of my faith begins to creep in, cause your Spirit in me to shut it out.  And think on your glory.  And think on your beauty.  And think on your mercy.  And think on your wisdom.  And think on your forgiveness.  And feel you near to my soul.

Whatever my gain, I give up for you.  I give everything away,  holding everything I have, and everything I am,  in open hands for you. 

For the sake of gaining Christ— because I want you, Lord.  Give me none of me and all of you,  for I have found myself in you.

[altmerhalten-posting]

Rat-Catcher’s Guide to San Dumas

The port village right outside the bougie gates of Kylie is known as San Dumas. It is beautiful as it is dangerous, especially to those who know nothing of its secrets. While it earned the nickname Rat-catcher’s Paradise, even royally employed monster hunters dare not enter alone. 

To ensure your survival, be home on the night of new moons and as soon as the sun begins the set. There are countless creatures out there that could guide you swifttly to your death.

Vou

Monsters who are not of the human realm, creatures who escaped (or were sent out) from the realm of spirits to wreak havoc on the living world. They are neither mortal nor spirit, and cannot be killed by normal means. Only one born of Fog can kill them. If encountered, it’s best to leave it be and pray that the gods handle it. 

Examples of Vou in the region

Husks

Bog-Babies

Clay folk

The Wandering Forest

The Accursed

Monsters, if they can be referred to as those, who abused a blessing of a god and now it’s become a curse to them. They can be reasoned with, some even know what they’re doing is wrong and wish to cooperate. But most of the time they are sad souls in need of saving from themselves. They are low-level issues though never to be taken lightly.

Examples of Accursed in the region

Vampires

Werewolves

Poltergeists

False Weavers

Ti’ Vou

Higher level issue than the Accursed, as these beings, while intelligent usually cannot be reasoned with. Their intention is to cause issues and kill. No special magic is necessary to put an end to these creatures but it would certainly help. Gods are as cruel as they are caring, and these things were made by them simply to put humanity in its place.

Examples of Ti’Vou in the region

Boo-Hoo

Ogre/Forest Spirit

Mimics

Nariku

Blight worms

[gladiates]

56 french-language film recs!

I wanted to find some movies I can watch to improve my French, so I looked for films available on Kanopy (which is rly cool--if you live in the US, you can stream some movies for free if your library or school subscribes to it!) All of the following films are on Kanopy, and I imagine you can also find many of them on p*racy sites (totally not endorsing that at all no sir!). I’ve listed each film’s title along with its year and score on IMDB. I only included movies with at least 1,000 IMDB ratings and an average of at least 7/10 so they’re all reasonably acclaimed! I also included a short summary of each from IMDB as well. List below the cut because it’s long!

Cleo From 5 to 7 (1962, 7.9 from ~17.0k votes): Cleo, a singer and hypochondriac, becomes increasingly worried that she might have cancer while awaiting test results from her doctor.

The Rules of the Game (1939, 8.0 from ~26.6k votes): A bourgeois life in France at the onset of World War II, as the rich and their poor servants meet up at a French chateau.

Breathless (1960. 7.8 from ~73.1k votes): A small-time thief steals a car and impulsively murders a motorcycle policeman. Wanted by the authorities, he reunites with a hip American journalism student and attempts to persuade her to run away with him to Italy.

The 400 Blows (1959, 8.1 from 105.1k votes): A young boy, left without attention, delves into a life of petty crime.

Purple Noon (1960, 7.8 from 14.2k votes): Tom Ripley is a talented mimic, moocher, forger and all-around criminal improviser; but there's more to Tom Ripley than even he can guess.

The Return of Martin Guerre (1982, 7.4 from ~4.0k votes): In medieval France, some villagers challenge a man's claim of identity when he (as he says) returns home from some time in the army.

Last Year at Marienbad (1961, 7.8 from ~20.3 votes): In a strange and isolated chateau, a man becomes acquainted with a woman and insists that they have met before.

The Wages of Fear (1953, 8.1 from ~54.5k votes): In a decrepit South American village, four men are hired to transport an urgent nitroglycerine shipment without the equipment that would make it safe.

Tell No One (2006, 7.5 from ~50.7k votes): An accidental discovery near a doctor's estate stirs up some painful memories eight years after his wife's hideous murder, and now, things are bound to take a turn for the unexpected. Does the good doctor know more than he's letting on?

Queen Margot (1994, 7.4 from 16.3k votes): Young Queen Margot finds herself trapped in an arranged marriage amidst a religious war between Catholics and Protestants. She hopes to escape with a new lover, but finds herself imprisoned by her powerful and ruthless family.

Un Flic (1972, 7.1 from ~8.2k votes): After a shaky first heist, a group of thieves plan an even more elaborate and risky second heist.

Monsieur Hulot's Holiday (1953, 7.5 from ~16.8k votes): Monsieur Hulot comes to a beachside hotel for a vacation and accidentally, but good-naturedly, causes havoc.

La Haine (1995, 8.1 from ~150.0k votes): 24 hours in the lives of three young men in the French suburbs the day after a violent riot.

Alphaville (1965, 7.1 from 22.9k votes): A U.S. secret agent is sent to the distant space city of Alphaville where he must find a missing person and free the city from its tyrannical ruler.

Tomboy (2011, 7.4 from 18.4k votes): A family moves into a new neighborhood, and a 10-year-old named Laure deliberately presents as a boy named Mikhael to the neighborhood children.

Full Moon in Paris (1984, 7.4 from 3.8k votes): Louise, a young woman, who recently finished her studies in arts, is working as a interior decorator trainee. Playing the game of seduction, her life becomes more and more complicated.

Bob the Gambler (1956, 7.7k from 10.8k votes): After losing big, an aging gambler decides to assemble a team to rob a casino.

La Chinoise (1967, 7.1 from ~6.2k votes): A small group of French students are studying Mao, trying to find out their position in the world and how to change the world to a Maoistic community using terrorism.

The Innocents (2016, 7.3 from ~9.6k votes): 1945. Mathilde is a French Red Cross doctor working on a mission to help the French survivors of the German camps. While she works in Poland, she is asked for help by a nun. In her convent, several nuns are pregnant.

Germinal (1993, 7.1 from ~4.7k votes): In mid-nineteenth-century northern France, a coal mining town's workers are exploited by the mine's owner. One day, they decide to go on strike, and the authorities repress them.

BPM (Beats Per Minute) (2017, 7.4 from ~13.4k votes): Members of the advocacy group ACT UP Paris demand action by the government and pharmaceutical companies to combat the AIDS epidemic in the early 1990s.

Touchez Pas Au Grisbi (1954, 7.8 from ~6.7k votes): An aging, world-weary gangster is double-crossed and forced out of retirement when his best friend is kidnapped and their stash of eight stolen gold bars demanded as ransom.

Jeanne Dielman, 23 Commerce Quay, 1080 Brussels (1975, 7.8 from ~7.4k votes): A lonely widowed housewife does her daily chores, takes care of her apartment where she lives with her teenage son, and turns the occasional trick to make ends meet. However, something happens that changes her safe routine.

Port of Shadows (1938, 7.8 from ~8.2k votes): A military deserter finds love and trouble (and a small dog) in a smoky French port city.

Lumumba (2000, 7.2 from ~1.8k votes): The true story of controversial leader of independent Congo, Patrice Lumumba.

Three Colors: Blue (1993, 7.9 from ~89.6k votes): A woman struggles to find a way to live her life after the death of her husband and child.

The Young Girls of Rochefort (1967, 7.7 from ~8.4k votes): Two sisters leave their small seaside town of Rochefort in search of romance. Hired as carnival singers, one falls for an American musician, while the other must search for her ideal partner.

The Brand New Testament (2015, 7.1 from ~29.8k votes): Did you know that God is alive and lives in Brussels with his daughter?

La Rafle (2010, 7.1 from ~8.2k votes): A faithful retelling of the 1942 "Vel' d'Hiv Roundup" and the events surrounding it.

Diabolique (1955, 8.0 from ~61.4k votes): The wife and mistress of a loathed school principal plan to murder him with what they believe is the perfect alibi.

OSS 117: Cairo, Nest of Spies (2006, 7.1 from ~18.5k votes): Secret agent OSS 117 foils Nazis, beds local beauties, and brings peace to the Middle East.

Mon Oncle (1958, 7.8 from ~18.8k votes): Monsieur Hulot visits the technology-driven world of his sister, brother-in-law, and nephew, but he can't quite fit into the surroundings.

A Man Escaped (1956, 8.3 from ~19.1k votes): A captured French Resistance fighter during WWII engineers a daunting escape from a Nazi prison in France.

The Well-Digger's Daughter (2011, 7.0 from ~3.6k votes): In 1930s southern France, a father is torn between his sense of honor and his deep love for his daughter when she gets in trouble with the wealthy son of a shopkeeper.

Weekend (1967, 7.2 from ~13k votes): A surreal tale of a married couple going on a road trip to visit the wife's parents with the intention of killing them for the inheritance.

Claire's Knee (1970, 7.6 from ~9.0k votes): On lakeside summer holiday, a conflicted older man is dared to have a flirt with two beautiful teenage stepsisters despite his betrothal to a diplomat's daughter and the fact that the girls have boyfriends.

Shoot the Piano Player (1960, 7.5 from ~17.5k votes): Charlie is approached by his crook brother Chico, who is chased by two gangsters. Charlie helps him to escape, but he upsets the criminals, so when his brother Fido is kidnapped, Charlie has to take an attitude with tragic consequences.

My Night at Maud's (1969, 7.9 from ~10.8k votes): The rigid principles of a devout Catholic man are challenged during a one-night stay with Maud, a divorced woman with an outsize personality.

Eyes Without a Face (1960, 7.7 from ~27.5k votes): A surgeon causes an accident which leaves his daughter disfigured, and goes to extremes to give her a new face.

Three Colors: Red (1994, 8.1 from ~90.4k votes): A model discovers a retired judge is keen on invading people's privacy.

The Grocer's Son (2007, 7.0 from ~2.3k votes): Antoine moves home to help his mom drive the mobile grocery, when his dad's hospitalized. He brings Claire along, hoping she'll become more than a friend. He drives around Provence's countryside, selling mainly to old people.

Pickpocket (1959, ~7.7 from 19.6k votes): Michel is released from jail after serving a sentence for thievery. His mother dies and he resorts to pickpocketing as a means of surviva

La Collectionneuse (1967, 7.5 from ~6.6k votes): A womanizing art dealer and a painter find the serenity of their Riviera vacation disturbed by a third guest, a vivacious bohemian woman known for her long list of male conquests.

Code Unknown (2000, 7.2 from ~11.9k votes): A young man harasses a homeless woman, another man protests, the police arrest both and the woman has to leave the country. What were their various story-lines leading up to this event?

Children of Paradise (1945, 8.4 from ~18.2k votes): The theatrical life of a beautiful courtesan and the four men who love her.

The Last Metro (1980, 7.4 from ~12.5k votes): In occupied Paris, an actress married to a Jewish theater owner must keep him hidden from the Nazis while doing both of their jobs.

Danton (1983, 7.5 from ~6.4k votes): In 1793, as the Terror begins in France, Georges Danton, a champion-of-the-people, returns to clash against Maximilien Robespierre and his extremist party.

Orpheus (1950, 8.0 from ~10.5k votes): A poet in love with Death follows his unhappy wife into the underworld.

Lacombe, Lucien (1974, 7.7 from ~6.5k votes): In 1944, an 18-year old boy from small-town France, collaborates with the Nazi-regime and subsequently falls in love with a Jewish gir

L'Atalante (1934, 7.8 from ~14.4k votes): Newly married couple Juliette and a ship captain Jean struggle through marriage as they travel on the L'atalante along with the captain's first mate Le père Jules and a cabin boy.

Le Million (1931, 7.4 from ~3.1k votes): An impoverished painter and his rival engage in a race across Paris to recover a jacket concealing a winning lottery ticket.

La bête humaine (1938, 7.6 from ~6.8k votes): In this classic adaptation of Emile Zola's novel, a tortured train engineer falls in love with a troubled married woman who has helped her husband commit a murder.

Black Girl (1966, 7.4 from ~3.5k votes): A black girl from Senegal becomes a servant in France.

Out 1 (1971, 7.8 from ~1.1k votes): Following the May 1968 civil unrest in France, a deaf-mute and a con artist simultaneously stumble upon the remnants of a secret society.

Les Misérables, Part 1 (1934, 8.2 from ~1.5k votes): The lives of numerous people over the course of 20 years in 19th century France, weaved together by the story of an ex-convict named Jean Valjean on the run from an obsessive police inspector, who pursues him for only a minor offense.

Beau Travail (1999, 7.4 from ~8.5k votes): This film focuses on an ex-Foreign Legion officer as he recalls his once glorious life, leading troops in Djibouti.

[defenderrosetyler]

A Prince and His Swan Prologue

Words: 1.5k

Warnings: Minor Mention of injury and death

Off we go! Thanks again to @flamencodiva​ for being Beta and @beskaradberoya​ for her dividers!!

Sam Winchester and Odette Y/L/N had been friends since they were children. Odette was the only daughter of a widowed king, and Sam was the youngest of King John and Queen Mary of the neighboring kingdom across the oceans. King John and Odette’s father had constant talks of joining their kingdoms during their children’s infancy. It was decided that every summer, Dean, Sam, and Odette would spend the summers together in the hope that Odette would fall in love with one of his sons. 

Each summer passed with its own challenges. Odette was polite with the palace staff, while Dean and Sam caused havoc around the palace. John sighed one afternoon as he and the other adults sat around the table playing cards. “Well, at least the children seem to be getting along.”

“Don’t worry, John, this arrangement will click with one of them, I promise.” “It’s a perfect match” Odette’s Father smiled over at the other monarchs,

“Sam, she’s making me play dress up,” Dean groans as Sam shakes his head. “At least she’s not beating you at cards. This is the fifth hand she’s beaten me at.” Odette giggled as she lay out her winning hand. 

The summers passed, and before long, all three children were grown. Dean had already had his 18th birthday celebration, and now it was Sam’s turn. 

“Father, please, put me down! This is just another ball that I’d rather not be a part of!” Odette argued as she watched all the eligible women and princesses in the kingdom approached the steps of Winchester Castle.

“Odette, my darling child, this match between you and Sam is perfect. You two got along so well all these past summers. Surely you must care for him.” Odette’s father says gently. The father and daughter had a close relationship ever since Odette’s mother had passed at the time of her birth. Sure Odette had her tutors growing up, but she and her father were incredibly close. The elder monarch pulled out a black velvet box and revealed a gold chain, and at the end of the beautiful chain, hung the image of a swan carved into the gold locket. 

“Papa, it’s beautiful…” Odette gasped as her father reached around to clasp the golden chain around her neck. The gold accessory shimmered in the light of the hallway, but the symbol of a swan reminded her of her mother as it was her favorite animal.

Down the hall, Sam sighed as he straightened his dress clothes. Clearly, this was a ball set to become an engagement party as his mother had insisted on him wearing the nicest outfit he had. Dean, who was adamant of making sure his little brother wasn’t late, walked over to help him. “Seems like mom invited half the kingdom and all the most abundant amount of single princesses in this kingdom and the next one over,” Dean says chuckling, This made Sam roll his eyes at the elder sibling. 

“Maybe I don’t want to settle down yet, Dean. There’s so much of the enchanted forest I haven’t gotten to explore yet. I’ve wanted to visit Snow and Charming, but I haven’t had the time since Mom is so insistent that I get married. She didn’t force you to get married,” he added as an afterthought. Dean scoffed and shook his head. This was true, he wasn’t being forced into a marriage, and he’d thought he would be, given the fact he was the oldest of the Winchester princes. 

“You’ll have time for that and so much more, Sam, I promise. Have I ever steered you wrong before?”

Sam let out a sigh, Dean was right there. In being the eldest, he always gave the best advice. Sam gave his brother a friendly smile and nodded. Dean pulled Sam in for a hug and patted him on the back. “Come on, there’s a ball, with food, drink, and women” Dean smirked, saying each word slowly and his grin grew with each word before he was out the door. 

Meanwhile, Queen Regina Mills was working on a curse of her own across the enchanted forest, but she was also in contact with the witch that presided over the Winchester Kingdom. Rowena Macleod. Before Sam and Dean were born, Rowena had a decent relationship with King John and Queen Mary, but she was banished immediately when the boys were about a year old when she was discovered working with dark magic. Rowena and Regina had been friends when they were younger. 

Rowena snuck inside the palace walls, her dark emerald cloak kept her hidden in the shadows, smirking as she spotted the royal family as well as Princess Odette. Rowena had spies hidden within the palace who would provide her with intel regarding the goings-on at the palace. t wasn’t that hard to figure out the fact that Prince Samuel had a soft spot for Princess Odette Y/L/N. 

The growing crowd made it easier to allow Rowena to lurk throughout the party with ease, the entire ballroom filled with gasps and murmurs as Odette made her way into the room. Rowena cleared her throat as she tried to gather Sam’s attention, bowing into a low curtsy, she smiled and stood looking at him, rumor around the palace is that you and Princess Odette are to be engaged, what with you being childhood friends and all,” 

Sam nodded hearing Rowena, but he wasn’t truly listening to her. Catching Y/C/H out of the corner of his eye, the prince turned to see her come down the stairs and just looked in awe. How did the annoying child he and Dean had grown up with become someone so beautiful…Sam moved to push past Rowena, moving to stand in front of Odette, smiling as they were standing in the middle of the room, giving her a low bow. In-kind, Odette curtsy’s back. 

Without a second thought, Sam was inching towards her and his hand rested on the back of her neck before pressing his lips to hers gently, which to the parents of the pair, made them elated, a loud cry filled the room from King John. 

“Arrange the marriage between Prince Samuel and Princess Odette.”

As the words echoed in her ear, Odette pulled back and looked in shock. “What? I-I don’t understand…” 

Sam pulled Odette over to a corner so they were alone somewhat. “I don’t understand what the problem is.” “Why do you want to marry me? Because we’re told do, or are you willing to marry me of your own choice.” “Well, you are really beautiful…” Sam says trailing a bit. “What else?” 

This made Sam blink a bit. After a moment of hesitation, Odette scoffed and gently pushed past him to leave. “Papa, I’d like to go home.”

Rowena stepped out into the crowd and her red hair was vibrant against the castle light. Her voice was low and she was laughing while the words left her mouth. Eyes gazed upon Odette and her elder father.

 “adhair, uisge, teine, talamh gabh an nighean seo agus thoir dhomh mo mhallachd. Air an latha eala air an oidhche na bana-phrionnsa, cha bhi i gu bràth leis an fheadhainn air a bheil gaol aice, gus an tèid fìor ghaol aideachadh aideachadh le fuil.”  

Which translated to; ‘air, water, fire, earth take this girl and give her my curse. By  day a swan  by night a princess, never shall she be with the ones she loves, until true loves confession be spoken with blood.’

Odette’s father moved to pull his daughter behind him after the curse was spoken. John was shouting for his guard to seize Rowena and make sure she was exiled like she should have been. The entire ballroom left the palace in a rush, Odette and her father being pushed along in the crowd. Climbing into their carriage, they rushed towards their kingdom and, hopefully, safety.

The following morning, Sam and Dean were in the library, trying to remember the words to Rowena’s spell the evening before. Rowena being the cunning witch she was, was able to escape and cause an ambush on Odette and her father’s carriage, taking Odette with her where Sam would not be able to find her, leaving the golden necklace in the road. “Sam, you, for the record, are an idiot,” Dean says to his younger brother, who simply glared at him. “‘ Is beauty all that matters,” he says trying to mimic Odette’s tone and rolled his eyes, “and you simply respond with, “What else is there?!’”

“Thank you, Dean, for reminding me for the second time this morning and last night,” Sam snapped, looking up as the head of the guard burst through the library wounded just as Sam was on the page where the spell would be translated. “Hey, Hey, you're alright? What happened?”

“Princess Odette’s carriage was attacked on the road, her father is dead…”

“What?!” Dean gasped. In the guard's hand was Odette’s necklace. Both brothers looked up as a storm was seeming to come in out of nowhere. “What the hell is that?” Sam says. “A wall of purple smoke?”

“That would be Queen Regina’s doing,” Rowena smirked as she stood in the library. See you boys soon, though, you probably won’t remember me anyway.” She chuckled as the smoke enveloped the palace.

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 @simsadventures @mummybear @impala-dreamer @holylulusworld @snffbeebee @saxxxology @akshi8278 @deansmyapplepie   @luci-in-trenchcoats @samskia-writes @winchester-fantasies @talesmaniac89 @stusbunker @idreamofplaid @cherrypiebbyblog @cleighwrites @jxackles @flamencodiva @wonder-cole @msmarvelouswinchester @downanddirtydean @janicho88 @lacednleathered

[briandthemoon]

~ Uploading this WIP here too! ~ {You can see both on my deviantArt too [same username], but with some of the original ideas and thoughts.} So uh, I did what I do best and shoved two things I love and have been hyperfocusing on for the last month together: Sanders Sides and RWBY.

I’ve been binging @thatsthat24 ‘s Sanders Sides videos and fan comics for the last month or so and by god, it’s really lifted my mood. I’m gonna work to get them all lined and coloured soon, but since I’ll be travelling in the next week, I’ll likely have paper sketches and such to upload if I’m lucky.

As for this AU, say hello to Team RNBO [Rainbow]! This is what I have so far in terms of character information; [putting it under a readmore, please do have a look!]

Roman De La Rosa:

- Semblance:  "Picture This" - the ability to conjure an item proportional to the positive emotions he alone is feeling. So the happier and more creative he feels, the better.

- Weapons: “Armas Y Rosas“, a gauntlet-gun [armas] and a rosen rapier sword [rosas]. It’s literally just a Guns N Roses joke.

Virgil Nightshade:

- Black Cat Faunus. I didn’t realise til too late how similar to Blake he is but honestly, idc, I love him.

- Semblance:  "Panic Room" - the ability to conjure a small isolated, soundproof space to trap someone in. Including himself in times of distress.

- Weapons: “Atropa”  and “Solanum”, two knives with dust vials that attach to the end to infuse the metal. He usually uses Gravity Dust because 1) aesthetic and 2) if you have gravity defying Dust? Thats a cool escape my guy.

Logan Blu-Berrie:

- Semblance: “Blu-Screen of Death” -   the ability to perform computer-esque functions via summons, i.e. attacking someone with a text box he just conjured, or browsing data and memories on a summoned screen for accuracy.

- Weapon: “Crofter”, a staff-spear that uses projection similar to Velvet’s weapon to form blades when needed. I.E. turning the staff into an axe or hammer or even forming a fishing line. [Looking at this whole thing, Logan wound up giving me big Scottish vibes in this AU and I’m SO for it.]

Patton Opal:

- Labrador Faunus, best boy 1000/10, didn’t have to re-work his design at all, what a madlad

- Semblance:  "New Trick" - the ability to mark a person and be able to find them via a boosted scent marker. So far Roman smells like strawberries and creme, Virgil smells like smokey wood, and Logan smells like jam. And yes, Patton has tried tracking himself. He smells of vanilla cookies.

Weapon: “Storge”, a shield - axe combo. Mostly used in the shield position unless he’s forced to be active in a fight. Tried to give this weapon BIG Rose Quartz Shield Vibes.

Remus Pepinillo:

- for those wondering, he threw out the De La Rosa name when he left the family to go eat deoderants without judgement. And to go cause havoc.

- Semblance: “Can’t Be Unseen” - Similar to Roman’s semblance, Remus can conjure items but instead based upon other people’s negative emotions directed at him. So things like disgust and fear directed at him make him stronger. 

- Weapon: “Asqueroso”, a mace that can be wielded in pole form or as a chain flail. The name literally is just the spanish for “Disgusting”.

“Deceit“:

- Python faunus. Pretty obvious there. As for a name, I’ll work with whatever becomes canon, tbh. His hat snake isn’t real, it’s just a design, but he has named his hat “Monty”.

- Semblance: “Trust in Me” - Deceit can mimic someone else’s voice to the point of being hypnotic in some cases.

- Weapon: “Kaa”, a microphone that can amplify sounds to use as ammo, or can be combined with dust vials for other effects, such as fire breathing or ice breath. This is absolutely where Virgil got the idea for his knives. 

~~ Little Things In Their Designs Collectively~~

- So mostly Roman and Virgil had a revamp and got added or changed details. I’m personally loving the rose decals for Roman, and the fact that Virgil has to keep sewing his hoodie pocket sides back up because he keeps knee-jerk whipping out his knives and catching them on the sides. Also freckles. I cannot stress enough how much I needed to give one of these cute lil guys freckles.

- Logan and Patton really didn’t change much; Patton came out perfect the first time, and Logan just needed some proportion adjustments. Later I went and added friendship bracelets to each design because I do not believe for a second that Patton wouldn’t make them team bracelets. The card suit beads was just an addition that I added because I am the artist and none of you can stop me from adding the tiniest of references to Homestuck Quadrants. 

- For Roman and Remus, I wanted them to have similar poses but good god, it was still hard to draw Remus’s hands. They look so good in the end though so I’m good with ‘em. I also might give him a little top hat or something at some point and see how it looks, I dunno.

- As for Deceit, I had a bit of trouble trying to pin down his design at first, but once I rolled with the allusions to Kaa from Jungle Book, it went far easier. I quite like that I added the poisonous needles in the bottom of his boots as a “sting in the tail” kind of thing.

- Talking about inspirations and such, Roman, Virgil, and Patton are pretty much just colour based; Roman being red roses [his name literally being Roman of the Rose] as a symbol of romance of course, with Virgil’s whole motif being Edgey and thus going with nightshade purple as his colour, and finally with Patton, his name took me the longest to work out, but Opal seemed to fit really well, and considering it represents Love and Loyalty? Come on, I had to.

- As for Logan, Deceit, and Remus, they all got more story links worked in somehow without me really realising. Logan was really unexpected, but between the Crofters’ Jam link and the blue colours, he gave me sort of Little Boy Blue vibes, and also via the name Logan being Scottish in origin and yknow, everythign else I mentioned? Yeah. I will definitely be adding celtic flair to his design when its coloured. Deceit is more obvious; Kaa was a good choice in influence that I noticed halfway through and just buckled down on. For Remus, he bounced around a bit between Maleficent and Dr Facilier, but in the end, I figured the Shadow Man was a better fit. Also his surname is literally just the Spanish for “Pickle” or “Gherkin”. 

- Final info, if people are wondering, they’d all be centred on Huntsman training at Beacon, but in terms of where they’re from;

Roman and Remus would be from Atlas, obviously. That place spits out rich kids with issues like it’s quickfire Uno.

Virgil would be from Mantle; it’s pretty obviously one of the more run down and hard to live in areas, plus that’d set up the in this universe initial animosity between Roman and Virgil.

Logan is from Vale, so he’s a Beacon native. I considered him being from Atlas because of their tech. However, Vale won me over with Logan’s european influences and such.

Patton would be from Vacuo. I know its a weird choice, but hey, it’s full of faunus and it just fit a bit better than Menagerie or Mistral.

Speaking of, Deceit is 100% Menagerie born, but Mistral bred. He often tells people different conflicting origin stories, and won’t even tell his name to ex-buddy Virgil or ‘best buddy’ Remus.

I think that’s everything so far!!

I dunno if everyone else is as hype to see what comes of all this as I am, but either way I’m going to have fun doing it. <3

_______ PLEASE DO NOT: - repost my art at all - you are not permitted to line or colour this art - you are not permitted to use this art as an icon or profile pic - do not steal these designs, I put a lot of work into them ;; _______ Sanders Sides (c) @thatsthat24 RWBY (c) Monty Oum & Rooster Teeth The sketches belong to me.

[ranmanjuu]

How about headcanons of the warlords with a superstitions MC? Like opening a umbrella indoors or break a mirror 13 years of bad luck. See a penny pick it up and crossing your fingers for something good to happen. Oda Forces please. Thank you!

so i had to google some superstition things and i picked a few (not sure if some of these count but i hope [and like most of them tie with luck?? i mean ig makes Sense]) so here ya go:

—nobunaga:

nobunaga is known more or less for being ruthless. such is a fact you learnt since history class back in school.

it was another assassination attempt (it’s become a part of the monthly, if not weekly, experience for you), and as any other time, nobunaga deflected it easily. the ronin, upon seeing he couldn’t so much as land a hit on his target, set his eyes on you.

he lunged, the tip of the sword aiming for your head. nobunaga quickly caught it, pushing the blade off with his own. and in that process, accidentally shattering a mirror behind you.

soon after all that, the ronin was taken away to the dungeons, and nobunaga’s gone to hugging you protectively in his tenshu. a frown was etched on your brows, he noticed. his grip grew tighter.

“why does your expression look troubled, fireball?” he asks, leaning into you slightly. you sigh in return, “you broke a mirror.”

now, he was confused. you never expressed a fondness to said mirror, and while yes, you’re sometimes upset when items are broken, you get over them quickly.

“and why does it bother you so?”

you turn around, your face facing his. “there’s a belief that if you break a mirror, you’ll be cursed with bad luck for years.” seeing his expression turn into slight confusion, you explained further, “it’s said that a piece of your soul is held in a mirror, and if you break it—”

before you could finish, you were suddenly falling on the floor, with nobunaga under you as a cushion. a smirk was the first thing that caught your eye.

he finds it rather amusing, you were less mulling about the near death experience and more of a supernatural belief.

“even if that were to happen, my lucky charm will surely ward them off.”

—hideyoshi:

a battle was coming near. and as any other time, you came as support. it wasn’t as dramatic or dangerous as previous ones, you’d be there for hideyoshi (no matter how much he insists otherwise).

you kept yourself at camp, tending to the injured. during the afternoons where hideyoshi wasn’t fighting along side his lord, he’d be by yours.

a messenger came, and you couldn’t help but tense up. by instinct, you crossed your fingers and hoped for good luck. surely, it was, and you could slump your shoulders in relief.

hideyoshi noticed this small tendency, even before you started dating. the way your lips pursed slightly as your fingers crossed, a slightly pleading look in your eyes. and he’s always just a bit confused.

“why do you always. . .do that?”

you look at him confusedly, not sure what he’s reffering to, “do what?”

he mimics your fingers just moments before, and you emit a small ‘ohh’.

“well, i guess it’s a bit of a prayer? there’s a belief that if you cross your fingers, good luck will be granted.”

oh, so it’s a bit of a religious thing, he thought, and understood. he starts to pick up each time you were a bit worried and wished for a bit of good luck by doing it, and would comfort you either in the moment, or afterwards.

actually—he starts picking it up too after a while.

in camp, or a warlord council meeting, he’ll unconsciously cross his fingers.

and, in the event he proposes to you. . .he’ll definitely do it too ♥

—mitsuhide:

since sengoku japanese was a bit different than modern japanese, mitsuhide had taught you language as well.

it was a test, one that can be classified about 5th grade elementary level? around that. you’d done pretty great, it was mostly on writing the letters that tripped you up, but you were faring well.

and, as per mitsuhide’s own method, he had you do a spoken part afterwards. again, you breezed through well enough.

“well then,” he stacked the papers to an orderly pile, “let’s do a bonus question, for ‘extra points’ if you will.”

you started sweating, cause mitsuhide can absolutely be a devil and ruin your score by asking one out of left field. but to your relief, it was just,, counting, apparently.

“one, two, three, five, six, eight, ten—”

“little mouse,” he cut you off, “it seems some numbers escaped from those.”

oops. you forgot, and reflex took over, skipping over the numbers four, seven, and nine. and although the other pronounciations were used more often (yon, nana,) you still avoided them.

“oh, uhm, right—!” and so you redid your countings with those pronounciations.

he did ask you well, more of tease but it led to the same explanation about it afterwards. you just huffed— “well, it’s said that it brings bad luck you know!”

“oh, and what is it little mouse?”

he asks in a more teasing manner, but he didn’t expect you to actually answer seriously. “well, the pronounciation for four, seven and nine are homonyms for ‘death’ and ‘suffering’, for four and seven respectively. and nine’s said to be a homonym for ‘hostage’, i think?”

he’s amused—you’re as silly as ever. and he wouldn’t have it any other way. in fact, new teasing material!

—masamune:

summer rolled around soon, and holy hell is it hot out there. while you spent most of your days inside, sometimes you have to go to the market too, y’know? and so to help through with the heat, you ordered two paper umbrellas that a fellow friend who worked in the castle had a business of. it was a delivery order, so you told her to drop it off at masamune’s manor.

and it came around when the sun began to set. you admired the fabric used while masamune looked in the background.

“‘ey lass, how about we test it?”

upon his suggestion, you just chuckled a bit uneasily. you believed that opening an umbrella indoors would cause bad luck—and also the fact that masamune could absolutely wreak havoc with just that.

“eh, it’s fine.” you waved it off, setting the thing on the table, “we can use it in the day when the sun’s ou—”

before you could finish your sentence, masamune reached for the umbrella ordered for him, and opened it quick.

“—! masamune—!” you yelled out, watching as he sways the thing around like a child would with a toy.

after a tiresome chase, you managed to have him put the umbrella down and gave him a stern talking, with slight anxiety in your eyes.

“lass, since when did you become hideyoshi? it’s nothin’ big.” he says with a wide grin.

“it brings bad luck you know!”

at your argument, his interest peaked with an arch of his eyebrows, “oh, does it now?”

his tone was more of teasing, excitement also, but you just huffed and nodded, “yeah! it’s said that if you open an umbrella indoors, it’ll bring bad luck.”

he accepts your belief without so much as a question why, but it definitely becomes another source for chaos and teasing from him.

—ieyasu:

you’ve always been fond of cats. given the chance, you would absolutely stop and pet one on the way to somewhere. even so, you held the belief that black cats brought bad luck. due to those two clashing factors, you’d just sigh at your (future) misfortune but still stop to pet it.

such is the case when you find a stray black cat in the garden.

ieyasu was with you when you first spot it, and heard your small ‘aww’, one not in response to its cuteness, but more of. . .disappointment, he supposed.

still, you went and pet it, with your lover trailing behind and watching you silently. he reveled in the sight of his dearest playing with a cat in such a loving manner.

and soon, you had to go back as the sun was setting to ieyasu’s manor. while settling for the night, you couldn’t help but slip something, “it’s a bit of a shame we ran into that cat.”

“what do you mean?”

“oh yeah!” you realized that such superstitions most likely didn’t exist, so you explained, “there’s a belief that if you come across a black cat, you’ll be cursed with bad luck.”

“. . .and you believe it?”  /  “yeah,,?”

he went silent for a moment, then all he did was chuckle, pulling you closer in his arms, “you silly girl.”

—mitsunari:

it was hard enough to get mitsunari to commit ‘actually fulfilling your Needs’. it was already enough to snap him out of his reading trance, more so telling him gently that even though he he’s “not hungry”, his body needs to eat.

and even then, it’s easy to see that he doesn’t have the,, best eating manners. his movement’s always hurried. as if he could absolutely not spend another second eating, just to get back to reading. and such, it’s most definitely lackluster.

he doesn’t notice it, but you do.

so when one day, when he leaves his meal with his chopsticks facing up, you flipped. you pulled mitsunari before he got into his reading trance, and practically lectured him like how hideyoshi would.

meanwhile, mitsunari’s very confused. he already forgot how he put his chopsticks when he left it. he looked back to his bowl, it was facing up, with the tips dug into the rice.

“forgive me, but i don’t think i understand?”

you pursed your lips and tried to explain it to him. “well, putting your chopsticks up is very rude cause it’s used in funerals—”

despite it being a small thing you believed in, mitsunari listened in as close as possible. it’s like his trance, but verbally.

the moment you finish, he’s slightly berating himself in his mind. seeing the small hesitancy in his eyes, you quickly reassure him it’s fine, it’s just something you deeply believe in and he didn’t know, all the likes.

he nods, he doesn’t comment anything about it. instead, he keeps it in mind each time he eats. he always sets his chopsticks down properly, and in fact, learns and executes a few table manners! hideyoshi is slightly relieved, but masamune won’t stop lecturing him to ‘savor the flavor’.

—ranmaru:

in your days off with ranmaru, the two of you spend it mostly by going in town and, more often than not, snacking on some sweets at a teahouse (and by some, it’s enough to drain your earns for the week).

because of this, hideyoshi told you two to basically go and take a walk, y’know, commit Health(^TM). and by your own suggestion, you ventured to the outskirts of azuchi forest during the breezy noon.

while just looking around, you noticed a glint in the dirt. brushing it away with your fingers, you call ranmaru over, “hey, i found something!”

he came with hopped steps, leaning to you. you pull up a small gold coin, probably lost from a traveler. he gasps like a sweet child, “treasure! but should we take it? does it count as stealing?”

you thought about it, and shrugged, “it’s a pretty small amount to lose,” you stood up, brushing your kimono, “besides, do you know that picking pennies up can bring you good luck?”

(”what’s a penny?”  /  “oh, uh—a synonym for coin, is all.”)

ranmaru’s eyes fill with stars of child-like wonder, “really?”

you smiled innocently, his infectious bright mood spreading over to you, “yep. there’s a saying from my,, hometown that goes, ‘find a penny, pick it up and all day long, you’ll have good luck’!”

it plays out more like two kids telling each other what kind of supernatural ‘fact’ they found out yesterday and sharing it with a friend, because you two were practically that.

his eyes glowed brighter, “wow! then you must be lucky, eheh!”

and after that, each time he sees a stray coin on the ground, he’ll pick it up. and in the case of having company, he’ll tell them what you said with a smile etched on his face.

[rye-views]

Young Frankenstein (1974) dir. Mel Brooks. 6.9/10

Igor reminding me of Mr. Bean.

This is so Mel Brooks.

The creature can easily just be a guy who is temperamental.

Spoiler: [About Dr. Frankenstein, grandson of Frankenstein. He is lecturing to medical students with one comparing him to his grandfather and asking about his curiosity to his grandfather’s ways. Dr. Frankenstein says she believes only in science and his grandfather was crazy. He gets a will saying he gets his grandfather’s estate, so he goes to Transylvania and says goodbye for a bit to his fiancee. He goes and is assisted by a hunchback named Igor and an assistant named Inga. They enter the home and hear a violin somewhere in the home. They discover his grandfather’s lab and private library, but did not find the player of the violin. They read the book on how life was created by his grandfather and he deems it possible to do, so mimics the attempt. They steal a corpse and get the brain of Hans Delbruck, a good man. Igor ends up dropping that brain and bringing one in that is abnormal. They get the creature alive via lightening. It is frightened of fire, but has a relationship with music as revealed to by Blucher, the housekeeper who was playing the violin. She attempts to free him, but he wreaks havoc. The townspeople have Inspector Kemp figure out if Frankenstein will create a new monster just like his forefathers. He visits and Frankenstein claims to not. The creature ends up playing with a little girl, but gets her back safely in bed after they see saw together. He then comes across a blind men, who is lonely and has him as a friend and believes him to be mute. Eventually, Frankenstein captures him again via music. He traps himself in a room with it and compliments it until it feels loved and not ashamed. He then teaches it so that it can be shown to the public. Frankenstein holds a viewing to all the neuroscientists and medical professions to see. The creature is shown to be able to follow commands by walking forwards and backwards. The crowd approves. Then they do a whole tap routine for the audience until a broken light bursting into fire freaks out the creature and causes the audience to boo. The creature reacts badly and the police chain him up. He escapes. Frankenstein goes to his lab and has sex with his assistant until his fiancee shows up. The creature slyly steals the fiancee away and the two have sex. They recapture the creature once again later. They do a surgery so that part of Frankenstein’s brain goes into the creature and vice versa. The town mobs in the lab until the creature ends up speaking articulately about how he’s treated. They welcome him. Frankenstein now has a relationship with Inga while his ex fiancee has a relationship with the creature.]

[harringtonheartache]

Call It Fate, Call It Karma | Part Two

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: A continuation of part one. Steve and Y/n are stuck in the Russian base, left with many questions they will only find the answers to if they escape.

Word Count: 2,105

Warning(s): Stranger Things 3 spoilers, mild descriptions of blood and injury, cussing.

A/N: Here’s part two! Sorry for the wait. I went off book a little in terms of how shit went down in ep. 6 (skipped some lines, etc.), but that’s just because I didn’t want to bore you with scenes you had already experienced. Also, go fucking listen to Joe Keery’s song “Roddy” if you haven’t. IT’S SO GOOD HE’S THE LOVE OF MY LIFE.

The needle had brought the most brief moment of silence, and then the room erupted again into havoc. “Wait a second, wait. Hold on, okay! Wait wait wait what is that thing?” Steve’s words bounced off the walls like ping-pong balls. “It will help you talk,” the Russian man answered with an unsettling tone, one that did not fit with his promise of help. While she was not the one first in line for the mystery meds, Y/n was equally panicked, yelling in unison with him. 

“Hey, hey, hey wait! Don’t fucking-”

“Did you even clean that thing?”

Both of them were cut short and the only sound filling the room was Steve’s scream as he was injected with the drug, just where his jaw met his neck. Y/n was next, but hearing Steve’s cry was worse than experiencing the needle herself. Chaos was drained from the room at once, the two strapped to the chairs having been returned to sleep. 

It was easy to assume that the drug given to them was not a pain reliever, although Steve did feel as though the tenderness of his wounds had been dulled when he woke up for the second time in the cold room. Y/n wasn’t far behind him in her physical state, waking up shortly after he had. While they had both just taken a nap, they still felt tired while they leaned their heads against one another. “Do you feel anything?” Steve asked her. “No, not really. You?” “I-I don’t think so. Maybe? I… I kind of feel good,” he answered her with a melodious sound to his voice. She offered him a chuckle, “I kind of do too”. Their heads knocked together sternly as they laughed, but they were too jubilant to feel the pain it caused in full effect. “Morons, they messed up the drugs!” he sang. “Dumbasses!” she agreed with the same satirical tone. They continued this for a minute or two, feeling joy for the first time since arriving underground, even if it was drug-induced. 

Behind the metal door, their triumph was heard loud and clear throughout the narrow hallway, indicating to the men outside that they were ready to be attended to again. Their booted feet stomped noisily back to the door, but the sound could not be heard over the laughter coming from within. They re-entered through the door, and to the teenagers tied together, the Russian men were no longer as scary as they had been earlier. “Let’s try this again,” said the man in the uniform and hat. “Who do you work for?” 

“Scoops. Scoops Ahoy,” Steve repeated his dried up answer like someone on a game show, completely certain but not too serious. Unable to keep themselves from laughing, they didn’t even bother with hiding the lack of urgency they felt in response to the situation. Y/n’s shoe tapped madly on the floor, so taken over with giddiness. Steve’s hair bounced as well, against his forehead as chuckles bobbed his body up and down. “How did you find us?” the man continued, seemingly unfazed but still bitter. “Completely by accident,” another answer that would not satisfy those looking for the reasoning behind their visit. The response did however satisfy both Y/n and Steve himself, prompting the laughter to continue. 

Russian was muttered from the mouth of the bitter man, and a pair of small doctoral pliers entered the conversation similarly to how the needle had earlier. Before the tool was able to inflict it’s intended damage, an alarm blared at an extreme volume, perhaps just as loud as the screaming had been earlier. Steve looked up at the captor, a cocky smile twitching onto his face as he poked at the inside of his cheek with his tongue. He could feel the blood that still resided in his mouth from earlier, but no longer felt concerned with the taste. 

No more than three minutes later, Y/n and Steve rode together in the back of a small red cart, Dustin steering hastily down the hallway. His style of driving could be described as “shitty,” or “dangerous,” but rather fitting considering he had never driven anything but a bike before, and he was trying to spare the life of four, himself included. He jerked the wheel in a manner that was rather unexpected to the two in the back, causing them to fall all over one another. Y/n’s arm ended up twisted together with Steve’s leg, and she laid sprawled against his lap. The enthusiastic driving continued to milk laughter from them. “Whoooo! This is like a roller coaster!” Y/n shared. Steve agreed wholeheartedly, “I love roller coasters! Dustin go faster!” 

“No,” Erica butted in.

“What is wrong with them?” she asked the chauffeur. “I don’t know!” he yelled over his assemblage. “Did you- did you know your initials spell sshhh?” Y/n spoke in a loud whisper to Steve, dragging the two letters to mimic a librarian. The roller coaster came to a halt with the pounding of heavy barrels and the two in the back were dragged from their train car. 

While adding significant chaos to the escape plan, the drugged up duo made it back to Starcourt. After deciding that their hiding spot in the movie theater Dustin had ordered them to stay in wasn’t captivating enough, the two stumbled out into the main lobby, taking turns holding themselves up on the water fountain and downing as much liquid as they could. Y/n’s fingers started to hurt as she held down the “push here” button on the metal box with unnecessary pressure. “Hey, Y/n,” she was interrupted, her hand unintentionally slipping from the fountain. “Look at the ceiling,” said Steve. She followed his walking pattern to stand next to him, staggering as if she wasn’t fully capable of standing with complete balance. “Woaah,” she exclaimed, equitably as entranced by the stars that seemed to be dragging through the sky like someone was painting stripes on a flag. 

Their stargazing ended with them in the bathroom, disposing of what little was in their stomachs. The only thing they had eaten in the past day or two was the popcorn Steve swiped from the trashcan on their hurried retreat into the movie theater. They now stood in front of the sinks, washing out their mouths to rid themselves of the taste of bile, a taste significantly more vulgar than blood. Water now dripped from Steve’s tongue as he stuck it out under the faucet. The bathroom mirrors reflected bloodied faces, but they were not ready to take on another task of self care and clean the deep red stains from their skin. Once content with the taste of her freshly washed mouth, Y/n dropped lazily back to the ground. Steve followed shortly, sitting beside her on the floor that could most likely use a washing itself, his back to the row of sinks. 

“I think whatever they gave us is wearing off,” he spoke. 

“Yeah,” she agreed in short. 

“Well, my optimism wasn’t in vain,” Steve said playfully, remembering their conversation back in the base. He stretched his legs out in front of him, his calves coming in contact with the cool tile. His Scoops Ahoy uniform would need a good cleaning before his next shift, as the red stripes of his shirt now appeared to be dripping like melted ice cream since the addition of the running blood.

A sober laugh left Y/n, tired but content with their survival thus far. “Guess you were right, sorry I doubted you Harrington,” the end of her sentence lifted in enthusiasm. She leaned her head against the base of the sink, wishing not to consider the bacteria it was painted with. “How badly does your face hurt?” she questioned, assuming the answer was ‘a significant amount’. “A lot,” he said, “but you got pretty bruised up yourself,” he added. He turned to face her now, scooting a bit closer to her on the bathroom floor. She looked to him, expecting to meet his eyes, but found him engaged in his own observation of her injuries instead. A hand was removed from his lap and floated to the space between their two chests as he hesitated with his next action. 

The palm of his hand met her jaw and he carefully laid his thumb near a gash on her cheek. Her eyes blinked solemnly, trusting him to be gentle with her face and it’s received damage. “Shit,” he said, feeling an indisputable sense of worry that showed on his expression. His eyes (one still swollen and purple) scanned the rest of her face, looking over every cut or bruise that was added to her complexion within the past few hours. If he had not been down in that Russian base with her, he might assume she had gotten into a nasty fist-fight like he was infamous for doing himself. “I’m okay,” she told him soothingly. “You got it worse than me.” He finally redirected his gaze to meet her eyes, forcing himself to draw his focus away from the colorful bruise on the edge of her jawline that was screaming for his attention. “I’m used to getting my ass kicked,” he joked. They laughed to themselves, smiling as widely as they could stand. 

He took his hand back, but they did not subtract the closeness in proximity that Steve had initiated. “I hope you know I wasn’t saying all of that stuff back there just because I thought we were going to die,” he said, bringing a more serious conversation to bat, yet still carrying a light tone. “The stuff about enjoying my presence?” she asked, not fully grasping the lack of humor presented with his last sentence. “I’d hope you were telling the truth,” she chuckled amusingly. A smile came to Steve’s face as he looked downward, slightly embarrassed but still feeling an obligation to continue with his intended conversational route. “No, I was, but I uh- I don’t know. I,” -he paused- “I feel more than friendship with you, Y/n,” he brought his head back up now, despite his apprehension in doing so.

Her eyebrows jumped slightly, but she brought them back down as to not leave Steve regretting his confession. He watched her carefully, not wanting to miss any indication of responding emotion. His fingers twitched against one another in his lap, and he became strangely self-aware and confused as to what he should be doing with his hands. “Oh,” she said, her reply giving him little relief with only this one word. “I mean-” he started, but she didn’t let him attempt a retraction of his words. “Me too,” a smile graced her face, an honest one. “I like you too, Steve”. In all transparency, she felt as if the word “like” was not enough to express her feelings towards the person who sat in front of her, but using a more profound word was too daunting. He joined her in an elated expression, smiling both at himself and her. “Thank god, I was worried that I was going to have to go back to those Russian idiots and just let them kill me,” he said. 

They laughed again, a sound you would have heard often if you had spent the day with the two. His eyes dropped to her lips, still plump and pretty despite the small cut running vertically over her bottom one. Her laughter at his recently spewed joke filled him with enough confidence to perform his next action with almost complete certainty in himself. He swiftly moved his head to meet her lips with his own; a gentle kiss, one that was careful not to cause extreme pressure against the cut that had been bleeding all of thirty minutes ago. Nevertheless, it was soft. A moment both comforting and sweet shared between them. 

If that moment had lasted but three seconds longer than it had, it would have been shared with a third person: Dustin. The small, fretful boy slung the bathroom door open with more power than many would expect from him. He found the two he was looking for, questionably close to one another, having pulled away from a kiss seconds before. Their eye contact was broken at the sound of Dustin’s entrance, as they turned their heads to quickly meet his startled stare. “What the hell? I told you guys to stay there! What are you doing?” The two didn’t even try for words, continuous laughter now echoing off of the tiled walls. What they had was good karma. 

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Tags: @hearteyesmotherclucker

[heartlesslywhumping]

hi i love your prompts!! my friend is writing a story and wants to have some whump in it, so i thought i’d ask you if you had any prompts for it! it takes place 100 years after nuclear war broke out, and 12 young adults were forced into cryofreeze 50 years ago to see if they could live above ground. and while a lot of radiation cleared out, there’s still areas that are dangerously radiated. to make things worse, they all had their memories wiped and there are basically mutants above ground. ty!!

Oh daaaaaaaaang I love that idea! It reminds me of the 100 series, both the book series and TV show

(I refer to the young adults as a team here for ease of writing) ((also, there’s nothing bad under the cut, this is just a really long post and I’m breaking it up a bit))

One member gets a debilitating disease from the radiation, something similar to cancer. The rest of the team has to watch as the member suffers and slowly deteriorates, all while the member brushes it off and tries to hide how they’re suffering. Whether or not the member recovers is up to the writer.

The vegetation has mutated leading to the team preparing something wrong or eating the wrong thing. This leads to allergic reactions, poisoning, comas, seizures, vomiting, hallucinations, all the fun stuff.

There’s something bad in the water to include rain, mist, snow, etc. Does it cause them to hallucinate or does it cause physical harm? How does the team react to having no water?

One member touches or eats something that messes with their brain and leads them to attacking the team. The team has to physically restrain and contain the affected member. Now the team has two members out of commision, one injured and one potentially insane. The team has to listen to the affected member raving, screaming, thrashing, and pounding against their restraints. The team doesn’t know what happened, if it’s curable, or what they do next. The elephant in the room is the fact that they may have to kill the affected member. Meanwhile, the member acts like a rabid animal, snarling, clawing, screaming incoherently, sobbing, thrashing, throwing things, tearing at everything and everyone.

Consider what the member was/is. Weakest or strongest? Social butterfly or lone wolf? Leader or rebel? All of this will affect the team emotionally and physically. The way a trained warrior fights versus the way a healer would is vastly different. The most experienced or the least experienced would react and hit differently than the other option

If the member recovers: They now have to live with what they did for the rest of their lives. Do they look at the injured member and are stuck with horror and guilt?  How does their dynamic with the team tear at what they did? What are the lasting emotional and physical repercussions? Is the injured member unconscious? Is it debatable if the injured member will live? What if the affected member potentially killed their friend? Were they aware of what they were doing but unable to stop? Were they fully gone? Do they still hear the screams and pleads to stop? The horrible things they said? Do they still feel what they did to the injured member? Can they still smell and taste the blood and dirt? Is there still blood under their fingernails? Will they ever trust themselves again? Will anyone else?

If they don’t: Who decides to kill the member or make the executive decision to leave the member behind? Does the member fight back or lie still when they’re about to be killed? Do they have moments of clarity and beg for either death or life? Are they shot, stabbed, poisoned etc? If they’re left behind, are they left food and water just in case? If they still manage to recover, does the decision to leave the member behind come back to bite the team in the butt? Or does the recovered member come back and save the team? The team now has to deal with leaving the member behind. Walking away to the screaming and thrashing.

If the writer is writing from multiple POVs, play with writing in one you wouldn’t expect here. Try writing from inside the affected member’s mind. Are they aware of what they’re doing but they’re a puppet in their own body? Are they completely insane? What does that look like? Do they think the team intends to harm them or do they think the team are intruders? What do they think or feel as they die? As they’re left behind to die slowly? POVs can really add to some unique whump

There are mutants?

Is the team revered or looked down on because they are not mutated? (Or are they?)

Revered:

Treated like gods, which seems nice at first until the people start demanding miracles

If they team can’t provide those miracles, it’s likely that they will be killed and/or tortured

The team frantically tries to escape while providing those miracles

Consider El Dorado (the animated movie) if it wasn’t a children’s comedy and things went significantly worse

Looked down:

Are they experimented on?

“Welcomed” by a group only to find out later that they’re meant for a sacrifice or meal

Enslaved

Hunted for sport

Creatures have mutated. Give them elongated necks, extra heads, insane amount of eyes, rows of teeth, reloadable stingers, giant insects, heightened vision and hearing, what have you. Let your horror mind go crazy (we all have a horror mind). The more grotesque and crazy your mutated creatures get, the more havoc they can wreak. Remember that this is a dystopian! In the Hunger Games there were birds that could mimic voices/screams, and wasps whose stings could cause hallucinations and/or death. Go crazy! Have your creatures melded with technology? Or gotten technological features all on their own? Do they have specific radiation related abilities? Play with this and then set the worst of it all upon your OCs *evil laughter*

Some ideas to play with just from our own world that creatures (animals, insects, aquatic beings) can do

Bites

Stings

Poison/venom

Swarms

Suffocation

Overwhelming a prey

Camouflage

Lures (think of angler fish or cookie cutter sharks that light up in the darkness to attract prey. Or venus flytraps)

Crocodiles and their death rolls

Forcing a prey to drown

Some octopi can whip their prey with venomous tentacles

Animals and bugs can spit

Choking

Marble cone snails literally deploy a venom filled harpoon

Suckers or various ways of sticking to prey

Constantly following until the prey is exhausted

There is a breed of wild, big cat (like a leopard) that mimics the cry of baby monkeys

Crushing

Paralyzation

Echolocation

Just read what tentacled sea snakes do!

“They can basically read minds. Maybe they can’t control other objects, nor can they tell exactly it is what they’re thinking, but based on their evolutionary method, they know where their prey is going to swim, and wait there with their jaws wide open. How does it manage this, you ask? Well, because of a fish’s innate reaction to perceived danger. It’s call C-start. When a fish sense sound waves in the water, their body automatically jolts and they go swimming speedily away from potential predators. The tentacled sea snake, however, moves its mid-section in order to purposefully trigger this response, then, when the fish tries to flee, it ends up right in the snake’s waiting mouth.”

And all of this is just from our own world. Also….just look at Australia.

Some more quick ones are to remove resources. Remove food, water, shelter, anything. Make the world itself a terrifying place. Mess with the elements of nature, mess with creatures, mess with people (do the mutants have powers? Even simple things like better strength or endurance? Better senses that can smell, hear, see, taste danger? Natural resistant to things that hurt the team? It doesn’t have to be X-men style powers unless you want it to), mess with           e v e r y t h i n g.

Also, how have the mutants survived so long? What do they have that the team doesn’t and how can that hurt the team?

To heighten something,  add a layer of time sensitivity or danger. Is something coming for them? Do they know?

And of course, there are lots more for mind wiping. This is just getting into a pretty long post and I’ve already re-written this several times (stupid tumblr kept crashing and my webpage kept reloading and deleting everything I’d already written) so I’m going to cut it off here with those quick ways to add whump as well.

If you’d like a follow up with mind wiping stuff, just message me! I’ll try to respond quicker this time 😅

Thanks for the ask! I’d love to know how this story goes! If it’s ever publicly shared somewhere (printed in a book, turned into a comic, posted on wattpad) message me again! I’d love to read it! (And if it’s never shared, I totally get that. Writers are weird and stories get away from us.) All the best of luck to your friend!!!!

Some gruesome things that animals do below this line

_____________________________________________________

Cannibalism

Eating prey alive

There is a breed of ant that makes a vertical, sticky platform filled with holes. Once a bug sticks to it, the ants pop out and pull it in various directions while stinging it to death. Some bugs can be stuck there for hours, being torn into manageable chunks

Spiders and their webbing up prey for later. Some do it while their prey is alive

[stcries-a]

Name : Doryu Gender : Male Pronouns : He / Him Age : 27 Sexual Orientation : Pansexual ( he just don’t care who u are tbh ) Height : 6′9ft ( human form )  //  20ft ( dragon form ) Build : Muscular torso with skinnier and nimble legs

Appearance : Long ocean blue hair tied up in a waist length ponytail, redish orange eyes and long pointed lashes with red faded markings around his eyelids and undereyes. Slightly pointed ears with small red studded piercings to match, pointed fangs. Clawed hands as well as a long serpentine tail sprouting from his back. Typically found wearing traditional japanese clothing, like kimonos but will also try and drabble into modern clothing styles as well. But is constantly wearing some form of golden accessories, be it rings or a necklace.

Personality : Quite rational and mysterious. Sticks to himself most of the time, seeing himself much stronger than any other being in turn making him quite arrogant. Doesn’t like long conversations so keeps things short and will sometimes just walk away if someone is being too obnoxious. Smart and confident, never backs down from a challenge and will always try to prove his superiority. But gain his trust and he will protect you till the end. Very curious in human lives and how they live despite living far from any kind of civilization.

Powers / Abilities :

Breathing / fire manipulation ( blue flames huehue )

Flight

Limited mind reading telepathic abilities

Turning into his full dragon form

Background : Doryu is a prince of a small tribe of dragons. Reaching back centuries ago, this specific herd ruled over a part of land in Japan, causing havoc and misery for the humans that were in the land they conquered. Every new dragon that was born from the current leaders were automatically crowned the next leader, UNLESS another member of the pack were to challenge them and prove their superior strength. This is what happened to Doryu ; born into the royal status through his parents, but a rogue dragon proved his strength and resulted in him loosing his right to the crown. Infuriated by his loss, Doryu fled his old family in search of his own power and country to reign over. He’s managed to find himself a small cave outside a largely populated city, which he now lives and plans to overrule them. Knowing of small magic before his escape, Doryu has secured himself a somewhat humane form that he used to explore his new home and learn how to blend in, very quickly causing him to gain interest in their society and lifestyle.

Other notes  :

Smokes sometimes, be it on a pipe or actual cigarettes. It mimics the action of breathing fire and is something he does to relax.

Purrs when he’s happy, although he will absolutely try to deny it when it happens. Biggest tsundere in the world.

The need to prove his strength and superiority comes from his loss in the old dragon lands, being absolutely butthurt about the whole thing. It’s a very sensitive topic for him and an easy way for him to get wound up and angry extremely quickly.

[journeysintowebcomics]

Worm Liveblog #115

UPDATE 115: The Simurgh Shows Off

A bit of a short Worm update today.

Last time the Travelers were introduced as a group of friends who play games together in a professional level. It was all nice and dandy until the Simurgh attacked, even Noelle was okay. This obviously is in the past, and I think it’s before they all got their powers, and I’m kind of expecting them all to get their powers from the trauma of being where the Simurgh attacks. So let’s continue and see if I’m right!

Running on a slippery concrete surface is not easy, and it’s even less easy when you’re running from something that could turn its attention at you at any moment and, I don’t know, vaporize you with her voice. It’s even harder for someone who is carrying somebody else, such as Luke, who is carrying Noelle along. They have to go, avoiding the windows and any other traps the building has. Hm...in theory avoiding the windows doesn’t sound like a difficult thing to do, really, unless this building has the most haphazardly-placed windows in the history of architecture or the ice’s making them slip around like crazy. Run in a straight line, that should be enough most of the time.

It’s when they’re getting to the parts of the building that are already crumbling – the base, I imagine – that dodging the windows is more difficult, due to the crumbling outer walls.

“Fuck!”  Luke shouted.  “Fuck, fuck me!”

Third time isn’t a charm for you, Krouse thought.  Luke had put his leg through a window and his leg was slit open from the base of his foot to his knee.

Oh, damn, that’s nasty, and something to worry about. If you get a nerve of an artery, or even a vein sometimes, sliced, you’re doomed. Thank goodness there’s not much description, although that doesn’t make it any better. I can’t avoid thinking of some rather ugly scenarios.

Oh, yeah, I almost forgot to comment, Scion is here. You know, for someone who is a complete mystery and also the epitome of being a parahuman hero, he sure features much less in the story than I expected. Scion must be doing something right, anyway, since he’s forcing the Simurgh to retreat from the area.

Luke’s injury is a bit of a mystery, they don’t know how bad it is, and he still can move his leg well. In that case, it may not be too deep if the muscle isn’t very compromised. Lucky guy, Lucky Luke. Not in condition to carry Noelle, though, so Francis does it. He also shows why he’s the leader of the Travelers while Noelle is not okay, as he takes the leadership and gets Marissa to lead the way, looking for the safer places.

There are still things to worry about, though. The Simurgh is closer than they thought.

Telekinesis.  She’d created a false image of herself out of snow and ice, baiting Scion away.  Judging by the sound of Scion’s continued onslaught, she was still controlling it. Controlling it even though there was no way she could see what it was doing by eyesight alone.

The Simurgh’s skin is primarily white, gray and transparent, or she’s able to mimic colors somehow. Or maybe the copy is floating around while using the white and platinum hair to cover the skin. She sure would have enough wing and hair to do that. So while Scion is over there, fighting the copy, that’ll give the Simurgh the freedom to cause havoc over here, too close to the Travelers.

She’s doing something over there...gathering a lot of electronics. Is she trying to make another copy of herself, this time using electronics? She’s even connecting some. It’s odd. No time to worry much about it, though, they still have to run away, somehow get off the building and onto the ground.

Turns out descending the building may be an impossible task, due to the slipperiness of the outside of the building. Their only option is to go inside and search for another way, although it may be dangerous. There could be a fire or a gas leak – reasonable fears in this situation. But out here, there’s the Simurgh, there’s the cold...just because the Simurgh is out here I sure know what I’d pick. If I could, I’d try to ensure I’d be able to get out again if necessary, but such a thing may be impossible to do. There’s nothing on the outside.

This flashbacks must be happening very long ago, because the Endbringers weren’t household names to recoil from. Only Jess seems to know about them, and she explain the circumstances of the Simurgh’s debut.

“The idea was maybe she and Scion met some specific set of conditions.  So the whole world watched for something like three days, to see if she would be another Scion, or if she’d be something else.   People approached, she even communicated with them some.  Not talking, just gestures, I guess.  Interacting might be a better word.  And when we thought things would be okay, she made a move.  The entire population of the city around her, with all the people who had come to talk with her and research her…”

Huh, where does Scion come from, anyway? Maybe he can be classified as an Endbringer, in terms of...what he is. Just that instead of going around destroying everything, he’s a hero. The world back then got pretty lucky the very first parahuman-related person decided to use the powers for good.

The conversation stops when heroes finally come to deal with that enormous problem – the Simurgh must be much stealthier than Leviathan was, if she managed to get here and start destroying before the heroes even got word from it. Just like it happened with the Leviathan fight, the heroes are immediately at a disadvantage, because the Simurgh seems to have sensed them coming, and already prepared to defend herself, killing one of them almost immediately. Perhaps the thing she’s assembling with electronics is part of her defensive strategy? I think so, because the other hero here aims at it.

Time to go inside. Apparently Noelle is quite the catch, as Cody had also tried to woo her and was unsuccessful. Wow, it’s like Francis has triumphed in everything Cody didn’t. No wonder Cody is so goddamn upset.

Getting out of the apartment is easy enough, breaking into another below is harder, as they have to kick the door open.

“It keeps getting worse.  The music,” Marissa complained.  “It’s like it’s stretching between three notes, and the moment I think there’s a pattern to it, it changes.”

Krouse glanced at Jess.  What does she know?  To Marissa he said, “It gets worse if you pay attention to it.  Focus on what you’re doing.  Distract yourself if you have to.”

What’s up with the music? It’s been noted to be changing, adding one note at a time. Is it perhaps a warning to those around? Like, the moment she reaches a certain number of notes, everything will be over? The part about how the song is changing is really making me concerned.

Soon they manage to get inside, ready to keep exploring. At least one person seems to have died in this apartment. Doesn’t matter, because they escape rather easily onto the ground from here. Okay, this went smoothly! Now it’s a matter of running away from where the Simurgh is.

Up there, the Simurgh has progressed, making a circle with her electronics. Like a frisbee? It’s still the heroes’ target, they keep trying and failing to destroy it. During one of the attempts, the hero that uses bubbles of force fields to fight gets struck down and thrown aside, near where the Travelers are, and gets impaled. Ouch.

Wow, for someone who got impaled he sure refuses to accept he’s down. Okay, hopefully this isn’t deadly. He sees the Travelers and tell them to leave or they’re as good as dead. During all that, a device he has tells him it’s too late even if he leaves now.

“I’ll let your wife know you fought bravely.  Do you want me to keep a recording for your son, for when he’s older?”

“Dragon!  Damn you!”

Oh heeeey, there’s Dragon! How nice to see a familiar hero face. This hero, Grandiose he’s called, isn’t as happy, and I’m sure he’s even less happy when the device starts beeping. Is this...normal? I mean, I’m pretty sure this means the device is going to explode, but it doesn’t seem like normal Endbringer protocol. Maybe the Simurgh does something with the dead bodies, since this one was about to die.

There’s Alexandria! This must be some time after she got her powers from Cauldron, then. The Simurgh fights, throwing her around, and luckily for Alexandria, she’s certain to survive this fight, what with being alive in the present. There’s nothing any of them can do about the Simurgh and her invention, as she finally rises and moves.

“That explosion,” Luke was saying, panting as he ran with a lopsided gait.  “They blew up their own person.  Why?”

“Because he’d been here too long,” Krouse said.

...I’m not sure what this means. Does it mean that, if you’re in the area where the Simurgh is for too long, you have to die? If the Travelers here are found, will they also be killed? Because I’m pretty sure they have been in the area near the Simurgh for much longer than the hero was. Of course they had to travel around, they had to put as much distance between this city and them, so they don’t die.

Somehow, the Simurgh manages to activate the device she made, a strange donut-shaped thing the heroes are desperate to destroy, so much they forgo the precautions of being near her for too long. The song seems to be the big issue. In that case, yeah, the Travelers are as good as dead if they’re seen. Apparently by now the song they’re hearing has six sounds.

They’re so lucky they already escaped the building, it’s torn apart. If they had still been on it or inside...

The donut the Simurgh made is activated, and its effects soon are seen despite the heroes’ best effort. It’s not a destructive device like I expected, it doesn’t make the city explode or anything. Instead, the Simurgh raises it high, and the device makes things appear. It’s a gate, a portal. And people are falling through it, alongside the debris. Oh, goodness, I didn’t think an Endbringer could do something like building portals.

“How the fuck is she not a tinker!?” Krouse shouted.

“She isn’t!” Jess called back.  “She’s never done anything like this before!”

Perhaps it gained this particular skill at some point? As if the Endbringers weren’t scary enough, this one here maybe learned tinker abilities. Nothing like a dangerous thing turning even more dangerous.

Oh, nevermind, those aren’t people, those are monsters, monsters that proceed to roam around and eat each other. Oh hey, what if the Endbringers come from another dimension, and these monsters come from that same dimension? It’s not too farfetched, given what’s going on right now! That there’s ruined architecture is not a good thing, though. It paints quite the grim picture of...whatever place she’s bringing all this from.

Even though Scion breaks the device, the portal doesn’t disappear, it continues pouring so many things. It takes Scion charging and channeling his power to start closing it, but that’s not going to be the end of this. Creatures already passed through and fell everywhere, those will have to be dealt with one by one. Seems to me the heroes are going to do cleanup for quite a while!

The Simurgh’s movement was slowed in the wake of the light, and Scion took the opportunity to land one well placed shot.  She was driven into the ground like a nail from a nailgun, somewhere Krouse couldn’t see.

I remember it was said Leviathan was incredibly dense and only got denser after the outer layers. Perhaps the Simurgh is the same? Still, punching an Endbringer is impressive. Way to go, Scion.

More running. They desperately need a hospital, and none of them know where they are right now. Luke suggests the Simurgh threw the building, Jess says that’s not possible because then it’d all have been shattered. I agree with her, I’m still kind of baffled the building just turned ninety degrees in the blink of an eye. If it had been tossed, I’m pretty sure they’d all have noticed something was wrong, and then they’d all have died.

They crossed paths with another monster.  A man, pale, with a head twice as large as his torso.  His arms and legs were atrophied, and he crawled, dragging his head along the pavement.  It looked as though he’d sustained some damage in being flung halfway across the city, his head was nearly caved in at the top, a bloody ruin with fragments of skull sticking out.

“Help me,” the thing pleaded.  He reached out with one emaciated hand.

“How?” Marissa asked.

“Mars!”  Krouse shouted, “No stalling!”

She ignored him.  “How can we help?”

“Give me your memories,” the monster said.  Marissa backed away a few steps in alarm.  “Give them!  I want to dream again!  I haven’t dreamed in so long!”

Oh my god. This is no out of nowhere and unfitting with everything, honestly. Suddenly, this that seems to come straight out from a horror tale is here. Okay!

The song they’re hearing in their heads is getting weaker, so either Scion is managing to injure or distract the Simurgh enough to make her stop the song, or they’re almost our of her range. Both would be great! The great news last...like two seconds before they encounter once another obstacle, and one I can’t say I saw coming.

In the distance, on the far side of a park, there were squads of men and women in army fatigues, with jeeps and other army vehicles helping to add presence to the already formidable line of defense.  Each of the soldiers was aiming a gun at the fence.

Krouse flinched as a howl sounded, closer than the ones before.  Caught between a rock and a hard place.  Not to mention Noelle’s condition, or even Luke’s.  He winced at the noise in his head.  It was quieter, but his stress here, his alarm and confusion, it was making the screaming spike to a brutally high pitch.

“Step away from the fence!”  The voice sounded over a loudspeaker, gruff, authoritarian.  “This area is under quarantine!  Seek shelter and wait for further instructions!  If you approach or touch the fence, you will be shot!”

Alright! Everything is quarantined. Hm...the silver lining is that this should mean anything the Simurgh brought will be stopped, and nobody has to worry about those anymore. I hope so, at least. The bad news is that, if there’s a quarantine, then Noelle and Luke won’t get the medical attention they need. Even though they say to await further instructions, this doesn’t seem very good, since...that Grandiose hero from before got killed because he had been in the presence of the Simurgh’s song for too long.

I’m aware the Travelers will survive, so...what if what happens is that they’re all taken away, to be dealt with? And everybody except Cody manage to escape. No signs of any powers yet, and seems to me like the circumstances that can lead to a trigger event are still around. All in all, I keep wondering what’ll happen next. Alright! But that’ll have to be for next time.

Next time: in five updates

[amosbarot]

( cismale ) haven’t seen AMOS BAROT around in a while. the DEV PATEL lookalike has been known to be (+) INSOUCIANT & (+) KEEN, but HE can also be (-) TROUBLED & (-) DERISIVE. The 24 year old is a SENIOR majoring in COMPUTER ENGINEERING. I believe they’re living in AUDAX but I popped by earlier and no one answered the door. ( james. 20. EST. she/they. )

hello !! here is my other baby, who is...somehow, more of a mess than naeva !! no dilly dally, let’s jump right into it !!

TW: drug addiction/abuse, car accident. mental illness. 

a e s t h e t i c s ( except i am a sham of a person and sorta very much forgot to save my aesthetics so ! winging it ! )

floral suits and a light air of mock-arrogance, charming smiles and a mischievous glint, easy sarcasm and raised eyebrows. rolling joints resembling cigars, smoke drifting towards ceilings as conspiratorial rambles escape intoxicated lips,  wild gestures and toppled book stacks, four expresso shots at the stroke of midnight and equations leading off whiteboards. heavy eye bags and warm smiles, dismissive words and excuses. sleepwalking to the middle of the quad for the third time that week, donning white boxers littered with red hearts...again. secret glances and barely contained excitement, distractions from the obvious.

general info !!

full name: amos ronak barot

nickname(s): n/a !!

b.o.d. - january 17th, 24 yrs old, capricorn

label(s): the academic, the ebullient, the fallen, the icarcian.

height: 6′2″

hometown: london, uk ooo fancy

sexuality: wildly. chaotically. bisexual.

his stats can be found HERE

and his pinterest can be found HERE !

biography

introducing...another one of indira’s cousins !!!! 

born to olena barot, member of the american embassy in london/future U.S. ambassador to the UK and ronak barot, CEO of his very own computer company. needless to say, he and his younger sister alya were born into a certain wealth

they hopped between the US and the UK and wherever else they desired to go on vacation to with ease; UK for school and US for breaks, rome or paris or wherever else, simply whenever.

despite this though !! olena and ronak had always wanted their children to find their own success, to be financially stable without their assistance once they got older. therefore, it was a known fact in their household that they’d be cut off financially by the time they were 21.

luckily, neither of them really minded this? both children had always had an extreme thirst for knowledge and a wonder for things. even so--their childhood wasn’t quite typical, as their competitive natures led to them trying to one-up each other?

alya and amos grew up extremely close to each other, being so close in age it really didn’t feel as if she was the younger sibling; they were more like twins than anything. obviously, amos still gloated about being the eldest, but their bond was tight.

there were moments in their childhood where if anybody, and i mean anybody--spoke ill of alya, amos would get into physical alterations. he’s much more peaceful now, but the history is still there.

by the time amos entered sixth form, his studies were--while still very important to him--less frequent. he’d go out nearly every night, gone whole weekends, partying or being a general hooligan. 

alya, however, did not partake in these activities. this is where they differed--amos had always been an extrovert, fond of crowds and people and being in the center of it all. causing ruckus. wrecking havoc. alya’s always been...reserved, in the best way possible. few knew just what a gem she was, but she really was to be treasured. even so--the less time amos seemed to spend at home, the more distant alya became towards him.

but, surprise: despite being literally, incredibly smart, amos got BIG DUMBASS ENERGY and was very very oblivious to the why and how of this. which really, really did not help.

unfortunately, there wasn’t any time to dwell about this.

around the same time, tragedy struck the barot family.

after one of his lil’ runabouts, amos came home to find furniture being escorted out of their house, police--his sister crying, his mother ashamed, his father nowhere to be found. 

and soon after, amos found out that his father was arrested for a scandal that sent many into a tizzy. essentially: the company fucked over their own customers via stealing their info, committing some fraud, y’know, credit cards and social security numbers, sellin’ it. just. some nasty white collar crime.

it also wound up fucking up olena’s newly acquired position as the US ambassador for the UK. she was released from the embassy during ronak’s trials.

he ultimately wound up in prison, and olena moved their family back to the U.S.

and amos--being the big dumb baby he is, figured the best thing to do was to pretend it hadn’t bothered him one bit! so he did exactly that!

i imagine that they moved close to indira’s family, and amos spent a lot of time with her from there then.

however, in between pretending things were fine and dandy, and home life, and the drag and pull of parties, anxiety weighed down amos’ bones like...constantly. his family was now, essentially, poor with a mass debt thanks to their father. the expectations for amos to do good, to be better--the fall of amos’ biggest role model.

it was all too much. anxiety attacks became frequent, provoked by the slightest thing--he could only lay awake at night, sleep infrequent. he was diagnosed with generalized anxiety disorder and insomnia, and treated for both--some days it still doesn’t feel like enough.

getting a scholarship to lockwood is probably the best thing to happen to him in a long time. it was a new look into a potential future.

got into the uh...career, of sorts, of doing people’s assignments for them for a hefty payment, alongside his normal job. just to make sure he had spending money and whatnot.

involving tatiana: their friendship bloomed after he did a few assignments for her, y’see--then came the midnight adventures, and whatnot. i wouldn’t have called them close by any means, but they had fun together when they weren’t arguing. their friendship ended after a pretty bad car accident--neither were fatally hurt, but the car was wrecked and it was amos’ fault and it just. sorta was the end of that.

he’s got a...reliability on his sleeping pills, if you will. it’s not healthy in the slightest, but he’s convinced it’s nothing serious. it’s pretty serious.

his eyesight is also getting worse--expected to become legally blind by the time he’s forty.

more on those l8r

personality

there’s a lot of words you can use to describe amos! pretentious, sarcastic, provoking, hardly ever serious, immature, petty, Just Like That, full of himself, smartass, big dumbass energy. y’know. just an infinite amount.

he can be so dramatic! everything he does is exaggerated. he rolls cigar-sized joints at every party. goes around with a horrible ‘20s mobster voice, voicing his lil’ conspiracies.

it’s both hard and very easy to forget that amos graduated as valedictorian of his high school (stealing it, from somebody else--i should mention, as he came in halfway thru the year and kinda just. snatched the title.) because he can be a real idiot sometimes.

because he tries to hard to mask his insecurities, he overcompensates with just. being childish. he’s fun to be around but sometimes he can just be. exhausting.

so like, he went into computer engineering because that was just sorta what he always wanted to do? besides programming? he really wanted to take after his father--but with him being in jail and whatnot, kinda puts a damper to that dream. still, he can’t stop.

so he’s just. really good with computers tbh?? built his own, programmed his own firewall. his dream is to open his own cybersecurity company.

VERY STRESSED LIKE CONSTANTLY like catch him in the library with six empty coffee cups surrounding his work, it’s 2am--he hasn’t slept, in fact his eyes are likely taped opened. he works a lot.

but parties...a lot more! he tries rly hard to not mix his medication with anything so that leads to him...not always taking it, or overcompensating when he misses. it’s a mess. he’s a mess. he thinks he knows what he’s doing but he’s NOT.

i think...i’d consider him lovable. he’s a lil eccentric, a lil high energy.

LOVES HIS FAMILY. like, listen. he still loves his dad. would protect his cousins and sister and mother with his mf life.

alya and him aren’t on the...best terms rn. so that Hurts.

he can be really petty tbh ?? like he can’t take arguments seriously so he just becomes this fucking manchild. he will mimic u. he’ll mock u. he can be hurtful.

god...i don’t even know what else to say. just take him TAKE HIM

wanted connections

as always, i am a big slut for every connection.

give him his Lads. his buds. his pals. his broskis. his bromances.

ride or die(s)

people he tutors !! people whose work he does for them !!

somebody who goes to him b/c of computer troubles n he’s just like...r u going to pay me or nah

high school friends??

party pals??

his sister may become a WC in the future but idk quite yet, we do stan her though !!

drug dealer pls n thank

ex friends ?? fake friends ?? toxic friends ??

bad influences ?? good influences ??

hook ups ?? like a lot of ‘em ??

confidante ?? just somebody he can. rant to.

academic rival just b/c i really love intense study-offs

enemies for whatever reason ??

exes ??

particularly this one ex he was really, really in love w/ but life just got really stressful and idk it affected their relationship and they sorta just. ended it. idk who ended it w/ who but it probably wasn’t mutual and he’s probably really still hung up about it. 

i mean i’ll take...anything...did they run into each other once and now just see each other everywhere??

unrequited things??

really cute close friendships??

[let-it-raines]

Can you write a cs fic about thanksgiving? :) i hope you're having a good thanksgiving day!

Additional Prompts from other anon: Captain swan celebrating thanksgiving at their house or at the Charming’s farm :) Ps: i can’t wait for the next chapter of No Longer Blue. :)

Happy late Thanksgiving to all of those who celebrate! I didn’t have any intention of getting out a Thanksgiving prompt until @resident-of-storybrooke jokingly sent me this prompt: Emma brings Killian home for the holidays for the first time. David as some big brother thinks he’s funny move tells Killian the tradition of jumping into the lake, like a polar plunge. And Killian, trying to be a good sport and would do anything for Emma, does it without a second thought and Emma watches from the window and sees him do it while David is laughing his ass off when I was telling her a story about my time at home before Thanksgiving. I told her I was going to write it, but I don’t think she believed me. lol. I’d tried to get it up yesterday, but life is busy and writing it didn’t happen until traveling this morning! So I hope the other two anons who sent me the first two prompts enjoy this little tale :D

Also, I’m so thankful for all of you!

Emma has been coaching him on things to say and to not say for weeks now. He’s to avoid baseball unless explicitly asked about it (“Babe, as far as anyone can know, you are not a Red Sox fan.” “I’m from Boston, love.” “Technically, you’re from London, and you guys don’t have baseball, so you’re not a Sox fan.”) as well as making sure not to mention that they’re living together around her Uncle Leroy. Her mum will most likely not ask for them to sleep in separate rooms, but if she does, he can just ignore that one. He’s to prepare himself for her brother to be obnoxiously protective to the point where he’ll likely want to punch him in the face but end up having to restrain Emma from doing it in his place. And most importantly, he’s to cook absolutely nothing with apples in it. He doesn’t get an explanation for that one, but honestly, he feels like it can’t be as much of a minefield as Emma thinks it’s going to be.

He’s taken the week off of work, something his boss down at the harbor was not fond of, but he can’t say anything when Killian hasn’t taken a vacation day in three years. He’s taken a few sick days that weren’t really sick days, but Robert doesn’t need to know about that. So while Emma may be as nervous as can be for this trip, he’s excited to be traveling to Storybrooke and meeting his girlfriend’s family as well as seeing the place where Emma grew up. It’s been a long time since he met a girlfriend’s family, and the savings account he has for an engagement ring helps to drive home the fact that he hopes this is the last time he ever has to do that. It also drives home the fact that he needs to make a good first impression. He thinks he will, but Emma’s nerves aren’t helping.

The closer they get to Storybrooke, city interstates turning into rural backroads with greenery surrounding them and not a high-rise to be seen, the more Emma’s legs start to fidget, shaking up and down in the passenger seat of her yellow bug (she’d insisted on them taking her car even if he’s driving). There’s no one else on the roads, nothing to distract him or endanger him, so he reaches over to take her hand, intertwining their fingers and gently rubbing the pad of his thumb across her knuckles to try to calm her. She seems to take a bit of comfort in it, her legs ceasing their movements and a soft smile tugging at the corners of her lips when she tightens her hold on his hand.

“Why are you freaking out so, love?”

“Why aren’t you freaking out?”

“Because I’m incredibly charming, and I don’t think your family is going to be like a pack of wolves waiting to devour me. Dare I say it, I think they might even like me.”

“I know they’re going to like you. I’m just scared that you’re not going to like them.”

“Well, I love you, and even if I think they’re the worst people on the planet – which they won’t be – that’s not going to change, aye?”

“Aye,” she mimics, bringing their joined hands to her lips and pressing several kisses against his wrist that make him smile and his heart settle while Emma’s hopefully does the same.

By the time they pass the “Welcome to Storybooke” sign, Emma’s nerves transfer over to him while she points out all of the little landmarks she’s mentioned in their year of dating and two years of being friends. He recognizes the ice cream shop that’s made Emma turn up her nose at every store bought pint of ice cream he’s ever eaten as well as Granny’s diner, the place where he’ll apparently be stuffing his face with the food that’s not included in their Thanksgiving meals. Maybe he can ask Granny for her grilled cheese recipe so that he can make it at home.

His is apparently just not the same.

At least seven people have waved at Emma while two people have flipped her off before they’re even past Main Street, and this is a small town if he’s ever seen one.

The little town turns out to be larger than he thought as Emma guides him through the quaint streets, houses with white picket fences and large spacious yards so unlike the crammed and crowded apartments and townhouses of the inner city of Boston. Fifteen minutes after entering city limits, he finally pulls up to the two-story faded yellow farmhouse on the outskirts of the town lines, no white picket fence but plenty of browning grass that must be a beautiful sight when it’s luscious and green in the summertime. It’s beautiful, like nothing he’s ever seen before as someone who has only ever lived in large cities, and if he wasn’t intimately aware of Emma’s reasons for leaving home, he would wonder how she could ever leave a place like this.

“Home sweet home,” Emma mumbles as he puts the car in park behind an old Chevy, pitchforks and shovels sticking out of the back of it from what he hopes is farm work and not a riot. She turns to look at him as he does the same, and before he knows what’s happening, she’s cupping his face and slanting her lips over his, the softness of them consuming him until a moan escapes his throat and is captured by Emma’s lips before she releases him. “Just remember that no matter what happens, I love you.”

“That’s my line.”

“I know.”

Emma’s mum runs out of the front door before they even get the chance to unbuckle their seatbelts, and before he gets the opportunity to laugh about it with Emma, she’s running into her mother’s arms, wrapping her arms around Ruth and hugging her like she hasn’t seen her in months…and she hasn’t, not since the loneliest week and a half of his life this past June. He takes the time of their reunion to get their luggage out of the backseat, and when he gets their bags all settled on his arms, he turns to see Emma and Ruth staring at him like he’s the meal they’re going to be serving on Thanksgiving.

“Uh, Mom, I’d like to officially introduce you to my boyfriend, Killian. And Killian, this is my mom.”

He smiles at Ruth before dropping his bag to the ground, reaching for Ruth’s hand and bringing it to his lips to press a kiss against her knuckles while Emma rolls her eyes at him to feign annoyance, the blush rising in her cheeks giving her away.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Nolan.”

“You can call me Ruth, dear, and I’m thrilled that Emma’s finally letting us meet you. I thought I’d only get to see your handsome face in pictures.”

“So she sends you pictures of me, does she?”

“Goodness, no. David helped me make an Instagram so that I could see what you and Emma are up to.”

Emma looks as if she’s about to faint, but he’s having quite a bit of fun with this conversation. “Well, Ruth, give me your number, and I’ll send you whatever pictures you want.”

“That’s exactly how he got my number.”

Emma claps her hands over her mouth when she realizes what she’s said, her face going as red as a tomato, and he has to bite down on his lip to keep from laughing at her joke. It’s definitely not how they met, but the innuendos fly from Emma’s lips almost as freely as they do from his after spending so much time together.

After chatting for a few minutes Ruth leaves them be, and Emma leads him up to her childhood bedroom, which is, quite frankly, a treasure chest of new information about his girlfriend. Everything is in light pinks and yellows, a flowery bedspread covering the small twin bed that he already knows is going to wreak havoc on his back over the next few nights. Emma gets to unpacking while he runs his fingers along the furniture in the room, looking at the old picture frames of Emma when she was younger, watching her evolve from a kid with braces to a beautiful, gangly teenager, her smile so full of joy in all of these photographs with her childhood friends that he can’t help but laugh as he learns more about her beginnings. And then he comes across one with her dad and suddenly the joy fades away a bit. Both of them have lost loved ones, and while it’s something that’s bonded them, it’s not something that either of them like to talk about.

The joy comes back, though, when he catches a poster of NSYNC on her wall, and a chuckle passes through his lips as he looks at it, the edges well worn, showing its age.

“I didn’t know you were such a big fan of boy bands, sweetheart.”

“Listen, buddy, I absolutely cannot wait until I get to go to your brother’s in London to make fun of all of your stuff. Everything you say today is going to come back to bite you in the ass.”

An idea sparks in his head before he stalks over to Emma and grabs her sides, causing her to illicit a squeal while he runs his fingers up and down her sides, snaking his hands under her sweater and touching the warm, bare skin of her stomach while he tickles her. She hates when he does this, but that doesn’t deter him from moving her to the bed and covering her body with his as he presses her down into the mattress.

“K-Killian,” she giggles, her breaths coming out in stilted spurts, “babe, s-stop…stop it. This hurts.”

“Is it a pain in the arse?”

“You…you are a pain in the ass.”

He stops the ministrations of his hands until he moves them up to her face, conscious of his entire body weight on top of her, and leans down to press his lips against hers until they’re joined together, only breaking apart when he needs the simple necessity of life that is air. “Am I still a pain in your arse?”

“Always. Remember, Jones, payback.”

“I’m not scared of this so-called payback because it means you have to actually get on a plane and fly overseas. Plus, I did nothing embarrassing as a teenager.”

“That’s a lie, and you know it.”

“Maybe.”

He dips his head to kiss her again, their lips sliding together while his hips start to move against hers, and he’s just teased her bottom lip with his tongue when he hears a knock on her door at the same time that the wood swings open, the two of them springing apart like they’re teenagers as the hinges continue to squeak. It’s got to be this damn room or something that’s taking them back in time because he’s definitely reminded of all of the embarrassing things he did as a teenager in that moment.

“Damn, Ems. It’s been a long time since I caught you making out with a boy in your room.”

“Maybe if you waited for me to answer your knock before you answered the door then we wouldn’t have this problem. Also, David, this is Killian.”

Oh yes, meeting your girlfriend’s brother after he catches you dry humping her…when you’re thirty years old. That’s always the best way to make a good first impression.

Over the next two days, he learns practically everything there is to learn about Storybrooke, whether that be through Emma’s guided tour or the way that the townspeople overshare everything. And he does mean everything.

He knows that Ruby, whose squeal was so high-pitched when she saw Emma that he thought an ear drum might have burst, is in veterinarian school while also working at her grandmother’s diner. He also knows that she just broke up with Dr. Victor Whale to start dating Dorothy, a fellow veterinarian student. She told Emma the entire tale, the coffee in the pot she was holding cooling until it was as cold as the temperatures outside as the story went on and on. It was bloody fascinating, but he’d walked in thinking he would be eating some of Granny’s famed grilled cheese at some point. Beyond Ruby, he knows that Emma’s Uncle Leroy is incredibly loud, gave Killian some kind of lecture about being too handsy with Emma in public (his hand was resting on her shoulder as they walked down main street), and threatened to bury Killian twenty feet under should he do something to harm Emma. He was bloody tempted to correct the man for using the wrong saying because he heard enough of the overbearing nonsense from David, but he decided that he’d rather not be ten feet under…or twenty.

Despite the chilled temperatures, he and Emma go for the famous ice cream she’s always talking about, and he meets Ingrid Frost (yes, that apparently is her real last name) who gives him the iciest stare he’s ever received until she suddenly smiles, kindness blooming onto her face like she and Leroy aren’t in cahoots to murder him. He’s honestly pretty nervous that she’s going to poison his peppermint ice cream, and while Emma may have left this town behind to break free of the shackles of her past, they have certainly not left her behind. It makes him nervous to know that he’s the one with the target on his back, but he’s glad to know that so many people care about the woman he loves.

She continues to guide him around town, showing him the docks, which he takes a particular interest in, wandering through the docked ships and admiring the variety of shipping freights to casual sail boats, before she shows him some of her favorite spots to hang out on the beach when she was a teenager. At one point they make out like teenagers (it’s funny what going home does to you), the taste of peppermint on his tongue mixing in with the test of hot chocolate on hers as the sand digs into his ass and Emma presses into him. He doesn’t know what got ahold of her in that moment, but he doesn’t bloody care when her tongue tangles with his.

He always knew that he liked the beach.

Each of the days they spend exploring as well as running errands for Ruth allows him to learn about new little facets of the quaint town of Storybrooke as well as learning about now facets of Emma. He’s aware that he knows her well, well enough to want to marry her, but there’s still so much to learn, and if he could sit with her in the back section of the library as she tells him a story about how she once got caught sneaking out of her bedroom when she was ten to return an overdue library book, he would.

She’s an unfinished book that he’s always reading, always learning new things about, and he’d like his access to her story to continue forever, hopefully intertwining their two stories together somewhere in the middle.

“Hey, Mom,” Emma calls as she comes running down the stairs, her socks skidding across the hardwood floor in a movement that reminds her so much of when she was a teenager and would come downstairs like that in the morning before school, until she finds her mom prepping food in the kitchen, all of her floral baking tins spread out across the counters.

“Yeah, hun?”

“Have you seen Killian? He was going off with David earlier, but he hasn’t answered his phone the past few times I’ve tried him.”

“I haven’t seen him, but David’s sitting on the back porch. Said something about wanting some peaceful time looking out at the lake while Mary Margaret and Leo nap.”

“That doesn’t sound like David in the slightest, but I guess I’ll go check to see if he knows where Killian is.”

“Hey, Emma. Wait.”

She stops her turn to pad her way back to her mom, propping herself against the counter and crossing her arms over her chest as the wire in her bra presses into her. “Yeah?”

“I like Killian.”

A smile blooms on her face despite her best efforts for it not to. She’s never been big on talking about her relationships with people outside of the actual relationship, but she’ll indulge her mother for a few moments, even if the smirk on her mom’s face should warn her that she’s going to regret this.

“Me too, Mom.”

“Do you…is he the one, do you think?”

It’s the question she was expecting, but it by now way means that she was prepared for it, her heart beating erratically in her chest as she tries to find words instead of standing here with her lips gaping open like a fish while her mom mixes something in a bowl.

“If I say yes are you going to freak?”

“No.”

“Liar.”

Ruth smiles, and Emma can’t help but be wary about where the rest of this conversation is going. Where the hell is Killian? And why do Mary Margaret and Leo have to be napping? She wants a nap too.

“I know. I know. But can you blame me? David’s married with a kid, and it’s just been so long since you’ve been this happy. And it’s the first boyfriend I’ve met since – ”

“Don’t mention him, please.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Ruth raises her hands in the air to try to placate Emma, and this is exactly why she doesn’t talk about everything with her mom. She loves her to pieces and would do anything for her, but she’s always bringing up how Emma’s been closed off for years and isn’t on the same life track as David. Her mom doesn’t mean to be annoying, but it just comes with the nature of being a mom to adult children, she guesses. “It’s just nice to see my babies growing up, and far be it from me to comment on your love life, but I personally think Killian is the one for you. Also, he’s a cutie, Emma.”

She laughs at her mom’s description of Killian. He would be so affronted if he knew that her mom described him as a cutie instead of something like devilishly handsome or striking.

“Yeah, I know. I love him a lot.”

It’s then that David comes barging into the house, his face flushed red in laughter as he stares down at his phone, running into the kitchen table because he can’t take his eyes away from the screen. “You’ve got to see this, Emma.”

Suddenly his phone is thrust into her hand, and there’s a video with their lake in the background. Except, it’s not just their lake because when she presses play, Killian is standing on the dock stripping out of his socks, shoes, and jacket like a madman in the forty-degree weather.

“Now tell me again what kind of tradition this is, Dave,” Killian speaks, his voice hesitant as he places his phone in the insert of his shoe.

“A family one.”

“Aye, I got that, mate. I just don’t understand why it’s necessary for me to take the plunge.”

“Because you want to be a part of the family apparently, and we’ve all done this. It’s like an initiation process. Our dad started it back when he was alive.”

“Sounds bloody ridiculous, but if your father started it, who am I to disrespect him?”

And then Killian jumps off the dock and into the lake, and she’s going to kill David. She’s also going to laugh at the fact that Killian fell for that when she’s no longer pissed at David.

She’s not quite there yet.

“I’m going to kill you.” She slaps his shoulder as hard as she can, making David move back across the kitchen as he grabs onto his shoulder like she actually hurt him. Good. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“What?” he laughs, tears from his laughter threatening to fall from his eyes. “Just some brotherly love with pranks like we did when we were kids. I thought it would be funny.”

“To have my boyfriend jump into an icy cold lake by claiming it’s a tradition that dad started? You’re an asshole.”

David opens his mouth to say something, but she pushes out of the kitchen before he can get a word in, running toward the back doors of the house to see Killian standing on the porch steps with his shoes in his hands and his body shivering from the way that he’s soaked to the bone, his clothes clinging to his skin. It would honestly be pretty hot if she wasn’t a combination of pissed and concerned all at the same time.

When he sees her, he simply shrugs, a timid smile on his face. “It wasn’t until I stepped off the dock that I realized your brother was messing with me, and I feel like a right idiot.”

She takes a few steps forward until she can touch his face, running her knuckles across his cheek and feeling the chilled skin where it’s usually warm. “Yeah, well, you have my permission to punch him in the face after we get you out of those clothes and into a hot shower.”

“Trying to get me out of my clothes and into the shower, I see.” He smirks, but it doesn’t quite have the same effect. “So naughty, darling.”

“You’re shivering and turning a bit blue, babe. You’re not being seductive. And shower sex isn’t as great as you think it is.”

“Honestly anything would be better than how I’m feeling right now.”

She grabs onto his wrist over his shirt, the material soaked beneath the pads of her fingers, and if she doesn’t kill her brother, Killian very well might if he ever recovers from being a human icicle. “Come on.”

While Killian takes a shower, she goes through the drawer where she put away all of his stuff, rifling through the contents until she pulls out his sweatpants and his favorite college sweatshirt for him to get dressed in, leaving them on the bathroom countertop while the mirror steams from the heat of the water. A part of her is tempted to join Killian, but she’s not about to hop into the shower with her boyfriend when all of her family is downstairs. This is not Kate Hudson and Matthew McConaughey in How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days. This is Emma Nolan in How to Lose Killian Jones in One Day While Also Getting Away with Murdering Your Brother.

It’s a working title.

Eventually Killian comes back into her bedroom all decked out in the clothes she left him, and he looks slightly less blue when he crawls into her bed and slides under the covers to wrap his arms around her stomach, pulling her closer and resting his forehead against hers, his wet hair seeping into hers while his nose brushes against hers while he hums, the vibrations nearly running through her.

“You’re warm, love.”

“You’re wet still.”

“Yes, but the second best kind of wet.”

“What’s the – oohhh, you’re so pervy.”

“You like it.”

“Maybe.”

He moves to press a kiss against her nose, and her eyes flutter closed at the contact. How can he possibly be so sweet to her when her brother was such a jerk? If Liam did something like this to her, she’d probably dunk him into the water with her. No, she’d definitely do that.

“You realize I’m going to have to get back at your brother, don’t you?”

And there’s the Killian she knows.

“What are you thinking?”

It’s Thanksgiving morning, and she’s been up since six. She’s not cooking or anything, but Killian is and she’s sitting on the kitchen countertop while he mixes…something. She’s not really sure what he’s doing. All she knows is that she’s had to kick up her running game since they got together because he cooks for her all the damn time. Okay, so she kicked up her running game at first, but then she pretty much gave up on that and just did her normal routine and hoped that sex did the rest.

Of course, if she ate too much of what was on the table, sex became something that was off the table.

It’s a vicious cycle.

“You want to taste this, sweetheart?”

“What is it?”

“Icing for a cake.”

She basically squeals her agreement and waves her arms until Killian comes over to stand between her legs, the heat of his body nestling into her when he hands her the spoon full of icing that she knows is probably like torture for him to allow her to eat the icing without the cake, the weird food nut. It’s delicious, and she makes an overexaggerated moan that she knows that he hates just to get a rise out of him, but, you know, not the rise that moans usually cause. That’s not happening here when her mom’s room is right next door to hers.

“You’re doing that on purpose.”

“I am.”

“I will take away the icing.”

She reaches forward to wrap her arms around his neck, pulling him closer so that she can capture his lips with hers, feeling the softness of them as a pleasurable tinge runs through her and ends with the curl of her toes in her socks.

“I will take away the sex for when we get home, too.”

“That’s not an equal threat and you know it.”

“I do, and I don’t care.” She pecks his lips again before leaning back against the cabinets, her head hitting a knob. “The icing is good, babe. You realize there’s only going to be, like, twenty people here, right? You’re cooking for fifty, and that doesn’t include what mom’s already made.”

“Well, I’ve got to win the rest of your family over, and that may be difficult when I’ve only got the day and plan on having your brother meet the same fate I did yesterday.”

Eventually the rest of her family comes downstairs, and they all settle down to watch the parade on TV. It’s tradition, and even if she doesn’t find it as fascinating as she did as a child, she still likes to watch, her body nestled under a blanket with Killian’s arm wrapped around her shoulder and Leo sitting on her lap, pointing out all of the floats that he recognizes and even babbling along to some of the songs. It’s…nice. There aren’t any other words for it, and it’s good to be home. It’s good to be here with Killian, too.

Maybe he’s home, too.

Their guests start to arrive around noon while she’s still frantically setting up the tables down by the docks. It’s surprisingly warm for Thanksgiving, the sun beating down so harshly that it feels much warmer than fifty degrees, so her mom insisted that everyone eat outside instead of in the house which, frankly, works just fine for her if she wasn’t the one spending her early afternoon cursing folding tables and chairs that she and Killian are carrying to the dock from the storage shed. Life is much easier when you sit around on the couches with the television on than when you’re attempting to have a picture perfect outdoor meal.

It’s two hours of food, conversation, and having to shield Killian from the people who haven’t quite gotten their fill of messing with him for being with her, and she loves nearly every minute of it. Yeah, coming home has its faults, her family has their faults, but now that she’s out here, her stomach full of food and her heart happy, she wouldn’t trade sitting in the backyard, the lake sparkling behind her, with so many people she cares about filling the usually quiet farm with cheerful voices…at least until the alcohol kicks in and the competitive arguments begin.

She wonders what the big argument will be this year. Last year it was over when is too soon to listen to Christmas music. There were…a lot of opinions.

“You ready, darling?” Killian whispers into her ear, his lips brushing against the shell and causing a shiver to run through her body.

“Yeah, I’m ready.”

She stands from her chair, placing her phone on the table, before walking to the other side and tapping David on the shoulder. He looks up at her with his cheeks rounded, probably stuffed with bread. “Get up. I want a picture.”

“Now?” he mumbles, covering his mouth with his hand like she doesn’t already know he’s talking with food in his mouth.

“Yeah, I like the lighting down by the lake now. It’s pretty, and it’s been a while since we’ve gotten a good picture together.”

David grumbles as he finishes chewing, standing up from his chair and wrapping his arm around her shoulder.

“Babe,” she addresses Killian, “will you come and take the picture for us?”

“Of course. Just keep me away from the water.”

David snorts as the three of them make their way to the docks, Emma settling she and David right on the edge of the wood after convincing David to give Killian his phone for the photo. It takes some maneuvering to get arms wrapped around David without him being wrapped around her, and when Killian counts to three for the picture (do people still actually do that for photos when not plotting against their brothers?), she uses all of her strength to push David off the dock, his curse making everyone look down toward the dock to see him fall into the water, his head popping up only seconds after there’s a David-sized splash.

She knows it was an awful thing to do, she really does, but there was no way they could get David to willingly jump in the water. There just wasn’t, and the water’s not deep enough for him to have done anything but immediately rise to the surface anyways.

Also, it was damn funny, and she can’t wait to watch the video of it over and over again.

By the time David lifts himself out of the water, his clothes soaked and dripping water, Mary Margaret and Ruth have made their way down to where she and Killian are standing, and surprisingly, Mary Margaret is the first one to break out into roaring laughter.

“How could you possibly find this funny, Mary Margaret?” David questions as he tries to squeeze out his shirt, his body not nearly as cold as Killian’s had been because of the warmer temperatures today.

“Because it’s about time you get a taste of your own medicine, hun. You should have known that Emma was never going to let you get away with anything. That’s never how it’s worked between the two of you, and that’s not going to change because you’re adults.”

“I can’t believe you were dumb enough to stand so close to the lake with me,” Emma laughs, wiping the tears from her eyes. “You’re smarter than that.”

“You distracted me while I was eating.”

Killian takes a few steps forward, his hand clamping down onto David’s shoulder, and he chuckles before speaking,“Don’t worry, Dave. It’s a family tradition.”

And after that year, it is.

But in the summertime, where no one will get hypothermia and become a human icicle after taking the plunge.

That next summer is also the time when Killian takes the plunge and asks Emma to marry him.

She says yes, and they jump into the water and into life together.

[rxbelling-hxrald]

// Imma just gonna share this, but before I do I’m going to say before hand the art isn’t mine obviously as per usual, but I’m not sure if the artist is on tumblr anymore, they used to run several RP blogs based around their own OC, one being named Alex if I remember correctly and Hazen the undead hedgie of the triple threat.

As such I can’t leave any referring links to them, but their signature is still on the work so maybe you can find them via that, I do also still have them via discord so perhaps if they didn’t mind I’d be able to link you to them there, but I’m not going to post it as they might not wish to be bothered....so ask if your curious about contacting them and I’ll see if they’re fine with it, though not sure if they do commissions or not.

Anyway with that said let me show you this!

This is based off a roleplay we did together where her OC Alex helped Dan to escape her home town from the approaching demon onslaught, slowing them down with explosives before they eventually got in and caused havoc. While Dan did want to help and fight there was no way that was a good idea with Mason himself leading the attack, whom has taken the form of a mobian himself here (Akin to Shadow) purely to mimic their weak forms, wanting to give that ever so slight chance of hope that they could defeat him via conventional means.

It didn’t matter what got in his way, Mason WILL find Dan at some point or another.

This is a wonderful art piece she did here of the events, some of you may remember this from awhile back even, I’ve had it saved for awhile now but I feel it needs a chance to be seen again, so here it is.