#or it's a deepening signs of the Horrors but whatever

[alectoperdita]

Life is just the neverending battle to convince myself or others to care, and frankly it's a losing one. 👍

[britany1997]

Signed, Sealed, Delivered…I’m Yours

Follow up blurb

Hope y’all enjoy this little follow up blurb for Paul and Selkie reader! It’s been so long since I’ve written anything, I felt like y’all deserved this, hope you love it! Read the original fic here:)

Paul x GN Selkie Reader

Please let me know you enjoyed this with a reblog, and if you’d like to the added to my TLlB Taglist, please tell me in the comments:)

You pouted, “it’s cold.”

A half smile pulled at Paul’s lips as you poked at your icecream, shuddering at the sensation.

“Then why’re you puttin’ your fingers in it baby?”

You huffed through your nose, pout deepening. “Well what do I do with it? How do you…consume this?”

Paul shook his head, chuckling under his breath. But once his boyish grin met your withering stare, he cleared his throat awkwardly to cover his laughter.

“Sorry sweetness,” he ran his fingers through your hair in apology, tugging at the ends just the way you liked.

You sighed and leaned into his touch, nuzzling against his palm. Against your will, your frustration slowly began to melt away…

…much like your icecream that had began to dribble into your lap.

You groaned, “what sort of horror is this?” You held up your cone, inspecting it. “What is happening??”

Paul suppressed his laughter with unnatural self control as he raced to gather napkins. He beamed as he wrapped the cone and wiped your thighs. “That’s what happens when you wait too long to eat it.” He explained, pinching your cheek between his thumb and forefinger and rubbing gently.

You batted his hand away, “it changes forms?” You scoffed. “Humans like this torture device??”

Paul rolled his eyes, a smirk playing on his lips. “Stick your tongue out.”

Your own eyes rolled as you hesitantly obeyed.

“Ok now lick the icecream.”

Your eyes narrowed, “what will it do to me?”

Paul couldn’t contain his amusement as a laugh slipped free. “Just trust me! Have I ever let you down?”

You crossed your arms, hmm, he had a point.

Since you’d washed up onto the shore of the human world, Paul had revealed it’s secrets to you with great care and enthusiasm. Every new adventure was as exciting to him as it was to you. He received so much joy from sharing his life with you.

You knew Paul would never let you down.

You carefully licked the freezing mass atop the cone. The cold made you shiver and you glared at Paul, but then…

“It’s so sweet!” You exclaimed before snatching the cone from his hand and tasting more.

“I told you sugar!” Paul smiled, wrapping an arm around your shoulder, “sweet thing like you deserves somethin’ sweet every once in a while,” he winked.

You’d think after a couple months you’d be used to Paul’s endless flirting, but he could still get your heart racing with a few choice words and a smile.

Your cheeks flushed red, “you’re the sweet one Paulie.” You leaned your head on his shoulder and held the cone to his mouth to share. He happily obliged.

“You know,” he began, mouth full, “the boardwalk only has chocolate and vanilla, but I’ve been meanin’ to take you to this place with thirty-one different flavors.”

“Thirty-one??” Your eyes widened with shock. “Can we try them all?” You asked as you pulled the icecream back from Paul to take more for yourself.

Paul’s lips pulled up into a half-smile once more as he took in the sight of your flushed cheeks, your eager eyes, and your icecream smeared lips.

He couldn’t help himself.

His palm cupped your cheek, pulling you in for a sweet, cold kiss. He licked his lips after, savoring the chocolate taste.

“Yeah baby, we can do whatever you want.”

TLB Taglist🦇:

@6lostgirl6 @misslavenderlady @sad-ghost-of-garbage @crustyboypix @royaltysuite @ria-coolgirl @bitchyexpertprincess @arenpath @kurt-nightcrawler @anna1306 @chiefdirector @dwaynedelight @dwaynesluscioushair @gothamslostboy @its-freaking-bats @lostboys1987girl @solobagginses @vampirefilmlover @f4iryfxies @bloodywickedvamp @mickkmaiden333 @softchonk @walmart-icarus @hypocriticaltypwriter @katerinaval @fraudfrog @rynsfandomsfun @arbesa-mind @warrior-616 @mack-attack420

[fanficfunwrite]

I'll Carry You Home 🔱🩵

Finnick Odair × Fem!Reader

The arena was a living nightmare, a place where the air was thick with the scent of fear and the distant echoes of the Capitol’s cruelty. The jungle around them was dense, the trees casting long shadows as the sun dipped below the horizon. Finnick’s breathing was shallow, the weight of the day’s horrors pressing down on him as he gently placed Mags against a tree. The old woman sighed softly, her eyes closing in exhaustion. She’d done more than anyone could have asked of her, and now she needed rest.

Finnick’s gaze shifted to you, where you sat a little way off, trying to catch your breath. The two of you exchanged a glance, a silent understanding passing between you. You nodded, and he made his way over, sitting down beside you. The night was creeping in, the darkness giving you a small measure of privacy from the ever-watching cameras.

“We need to find a way out of here,” you whispered, your voice barely a breath.

“I know,” Finnick murmured, his eyes scanning the perimeter, looking for any signs of danger. “We can’t stay here much longer.”

You both knew the odds were against you. The Capitol had designed this arena to be a death trap, and only one person was supposed to make it out alive. But Finnick wasn’t going to let that happen—not if he could help it.

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke so quietly that even the Capitol’s most advanced technology wouldn’t be able to pick up on it. “There’s a way,” he whispered. “When the time is right, we’ll make our move. We just need to be patient.”

You nodded again, the hope in his voice giving you strength. But it was hard to hold on to that hope in a place like this. You could feel the weight of the Capitol’s eyes on you, waiting for you to slip up, to make a mistake that would cost you your life.

Finnick could sense your doubt. He reached out, his hand finding yours in the dim light. “I’ll carry you home,” he whispered, his voice full of quiet determination. “I’ll make sure you’re safe. And when this is all over, we’ll have a future. Together.”

His words hung in the air between you, a promise made in the most impossible of circumstances. You wanted to believe him, needed to believe him. But the arena had a way of stripping you of your dreams, replacing them with cold, hard reality.

As the night deepened, Katniss took the first watch, her eyes sharp as she scanned the darkness for any threats. The rest of you settled down to sleep, though rest was elusive in a place like this. The jungle was alive with sounds, each rustle and snap a potential threat.

You lay close to Finnick, his presence a small comfort in the darkness. He was your anchor, the one thing keeping you grounded in a world that had gone mad. As you closed your eyes, his words echoed in your mind, mingling with the lyrics of a song you’d once heard stories about from District 4, before the Games, before the Capitol had torn your world apart.

“But I’ll carry you home, no matter how far, I’ll carry you home, we’ll never be apart. The darkness can’t hold us, the night can’t keep us down. I’ll carry you home, and we’ll make it somehow.”

Finnick’s hand tightened around yours, as if he could sense your thoughts, and he leaned in closer, his voice barely audible. “I promise,” he whispered. “No matter what it takes, I’ll get you out of here. We’ll make it.”

You nodded, your heart heavy but full of resolve. You knew the road ahead would be long and dangerous, but with Finnick by your side, you felt a glimmer of hope. Together, you would face whatever the arena threw at you. Together, you would survive.

And one day, somehow, you would find your way home.

If you enjoyed please react in anyway 🔱🩵

Thank you for reading 😊

[onyxisnotuniqueenough]

i have 35 followers on this account.

and while 35 is not a lot, this is the most amount of people i can reach. i should have been doing this sooner but have been FUCKING STUPID about it and have kept silent about it on tumblr to maintain some kind of semblance of escapism for myself here. but my escapism doesn't matter. can palestinians enjoy the luxury of escaping their situation right now? are they LITERALLY able to escape the bombing. nevermind escape, survive any of the tactics pulled by israel to ensure their genocide?

there's a sense of guilt looming over my head telling me that i should be doing more, but in truth, there is not much i can do to help. telling me that i shouldn't take for granted the roof over my head, the safety of my loved ones, food, water, electricity, the ability to literally communicate with the outside world. so let me do the best i can and spread the message with as many people i can.

if you're also wondering what you can do to help, here are some things i am doing and am in the process of doing :

- follow news about gaza through livestreams from the outside : multiple sources have provided access to a livestream of what's going on in gaza. israel has cut off all communication and electricity in gaza and i have a pit in my stomach telling me that they just want no eyes on them for whatever they want to do. all we can do is watch from afar. stay updated.

- watch tiktoks from people who have signed up for the creativity fund on tiktok or similar stuff on other platforms : if you're not able to donate yourself, you can find lots of creators on tiktok using their 5 seconds of YOUR watchtime to donate to help palestine.

- continue sharing, promoting, and "liking" content about palestine : israel is literally doing its best to keep us and palestinians in the dark, metaphorically and literally, from what's happening and what they're planning to do. raise palestinian voices, help them grow, share their stories. everything is forever on the internet ? great. take advantage of that. sharing is a way to ensure that all information we have on the situation stays alive and can't be shadowbanned or deleted or anything. the more people palestinian voices reach, the harder it would be to silence them. it also makes it accessible to anyone and everyone to see the horrors committed by the state of israel, and debunk any fucking idiotic shit their twitter accounts is trying to spew with their photoshopped cartons of milk, their very false infographics and their general flow of lies and propaganda.

- if you can, email or contact your elected representatives. they're...well...supposed to represent you, and their position is more advantaged to get something done. here's a video on tiktok that i found explaining the importance of emails (specifically in canada, bit i'm sure it applies to other places too) :

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMjsax5Qj/

- boycott brands that support or fund israel. now first, let me tell you : the 729 or 871 you find at the beginning of a barcode is not a certain sign the product has been manufactured in israel. this has been debunked since the origin of this lie in 2021 :

https://factcheck.afp.com/social-media-posts-share-misleading-claim-barcode-prefixes-can-show-if-product-made-israel

https://www.google.com/amp/s/thelogicalindian.com/amp/fact-check/barcode-israel-28806

if you have a doubt, fact-check whatever company owns the product to buy, it only takes a few clicks.

second, if you think that boycotting is useless because you're just a grain of sand in the universe : that's absolutely not true. humanity is just a bunch of grains of sand. humanity is a COLLECTIVE. stop thinking your actions don't have an impact. they absolutely do. that's how we've been capable of making such an imapct on companies' stock already!

you probably already know about Starbucks, McDonalds, and Disney. Here are some more companies and brands to stop giving your money to :

- HP : Hewlett Packard helps run the biometric ID system that Israel uses to restrict Palestinian movement.

- Siemens : is complicit in apartheid Israel’s illegal settlement enterprise through its planned construction of the EuroAsia Interconnector. This will link Israel’s electricity grid with Europe’s, allowing illegal settlements on stolen Palestinian land to benefit from Israel-EU trade of electricity produced from fossil gas.

- Puma : Puma sponsors the Israel Football Association, which includes teams in Israel’s illegal settlements on occupied Palestinian land.

- Sodastream (has been bought by Pepsico) : Soda Steam is actively complicit in Israel's policy of displacing the indigenous Bedouin-Palestinian citizens of Israel in the Naqab (Negev). SodaStream have a long history of mistreatment of and discrimination against Palestinian workers.

- Ahava : Ahava cosmetics has its production site, visitor center and main store in an illegal Israeli settlement.

- Sabra : Sabra hummus is a joint venture between PepsiCo and the Strauss Group, an Israeli food company that provides financial support to the Israeli army.

these are the first results that popped up with a simple google search, but that's not all. There's also L'oréal, Garnier, Nestlé, and so many more. it's hard to keep track of all of them and jaw-dropping to see just how many of them are involved and actively supporting Israel.

here are some more links for brands and companies to boycott :

https://bdsmovement.net/get-involved/what-to-boycott

https://www.ethicalconsumer.org/ethicalcampaigns/boycotts

multiple instagram and tiktok pages also

if you've already purchased products from them, obviously, don't throw them away. If any product from one of these companies is absolutely essential or if you don't have any other viable choice, it's understandable. Do your best, and whatever effort you make on your scale is helpful. This is also an opportunity to support local shops and businesses, diy your own beauty products, cook more on your own, and instead of directing your money towards genocide, you could direct to donating to aid-to-palestine charities or literally to your pocket. but honestly, the idea of a 70+year ethnic cleansing and literal genocide should be enough.

- now this seems like the most obvious one so that's why it's the last bullet point : donate to charities that support palestine, sign petitions, etc.

there is footage out there of thousands of trucks that cannot cross palestine/"israel" borders because. well. of israel. these trucks contain food, water and hygiene products that donations were supposed to provide. this is heartbreaking that the help you hoped to provide couldn't reach the people it was supposed to reach. if you're thinking your donation is useless, well, i get it. i am having trouble even saying anything about that, because I myself am worried that it could be useless. But you have to stay hopeful, cause that's all most of us have right now. I would say to absolutely continue donating whatever you can to charities that support palestine, that provide water, food, shelter, and emergency medical care. You have to hope that it'll somehow reach them. You have to hope that it'll somehow stop.

At the time of writing, voting results at the UN General Assembly show a margin of 120!! to 14 (and 45 abstinents) for a ceasefire and immediate humanitarian truce between Palestine and israel. And now while that might seem like amazing news, let's remember that the General Assembly is for non-binding resolutions. FOR A BINDING RESOLUTION, the decision must be made by the Security Council. I'm not gonna explain everything, but the permanent members of the UN Security Council are fucking it over. here's full context :

Also, the letter tO THANK Biden that countless celebrities ??? disappointing too. some names on that list really surprised me, and i'm disappointed that people i have supprted in the past have turned around and thanked biden for supporting a genocide. it's so stupid and disappointing.

of course, feel free to tell me if i've cited the wrong sources, if i've missed something, or have said false info in anyway.

i'd also like to add that arab palestinians are not the only victims and that countless innocent jewish people have also been affected by the genocide. that the press vest has meant norhing so far. and that israel is not looking that closely into who they're killing. as Daniel Hagari said, Israel's method is "destruction, not accuracy."

MY HEART GOES OUT TO ANY VICTIM IN GAZA. IN PALESTINE.

BTW : I am not open to conversation with zionists or pro-israels. keep your anon asks very very very far away from me. i will not lend a ❤️listening ear❤️ to someone who ignores or defends genocide, and i don't see anything wrong with ignoring that kind of rhetoric. fuck you.

[the-hidden-writer]

A Piece of True Fiction: Chapter 1

An Alan Wake 2 fic. Spoilers for Alan Wake 2!

Summary: Aleksi Kesä manages to slip out of the spiral and film he was trapped in.

Saga Anderson, caught in the middle of Wake's horror story, finds a man that looks identical to her partner in the middle of the woods. He's lost, confused, and only seems to speak Finnish. Saga has to try and uncover the truth as well as trying to save her family. Where did he come from? How did he get here?

And where's her Casey?

Chapter Summary: Saga arrives at the Elderwood Palace Lodge to find a bloodbath. No Chance from Saga's POV. Warnings: blood, guns, knives Words: 1,618 AO3 Link: [Here!] [Previous Part] [Next part]

A Piece of True Fiction

Chapter 1: Arrival

Saga pushes hard on the pedal as she speeds along the road, accompanied by nothing but the steady patter of rain on the windshield and flashes of light paired with distant gunshots.

She grits her teeth as worry thrums in her chest. Something big is clearly going on but she has no idea what it is or when it started, and she can’t exactly drive straight into the forest to find out. That leaves the lodge where she’d left Casey and Wake as her best destination. She needs to make sure Casey’s okay and not caught up in the fire, and she needs to get the Clicker to Wake to put a stop to all of this madness.

The journey felt like it took far longer than it should when she finally pulls up next to Elderwood Palace Lodge and doesn’t waste a second before she jumps out and runs inside…

…and comes to an abrupt halt.

Even if she hadn’t seen it, the tang of iron flavoring the air around her would have been enough to make her stomach flip. Blood is strewn everywhere. Walls, floor, ceiling- every nook and cranny it shouldn’t be able to reach. The corpses of the helpful staff decorate the once cozy space.

If Saga could see that there was even a chance of them being still alive, she would have stopped to help or examine them further. But no. It was recent, but they are unmistakably dead and it’s almost definitely their blood that’s painting the rooms a crimson that matches the sky outside. As much as she hates to leave them, she has more pressing matters.

Casey and Wake were in here, in this lodge-turned-slaughterhouse. She has to get to them before whatever did this found them, if it hadn’t already. 

No, it couldn’t have. She won’t let herself entertain the idea. She will not walk into this room and see her partner and the only man that can save her daughter, bloodied, torn apart and lifeless.

“Casey?” she calls, tentatively moving in.

All the air leaves her lungs in the sigh she lets out when that isn’t what she sees, but the relief doesn’t last long. Their field office has been completely upturned like the aftermath of an explosion. She notices streaks of blood sourced from dead cultists, but thankfully no sign of Casey or Wake, which means that they haven’t been brutally killed here like the others. Which also means that it's more likely that they’re involved in the gunfire outside.

She tries contacting Casey. No answer. It doesn’t even get through.

With one last quick sweep of the room, Saga maneuvers around the scattered furniture and bodies and hurries out of the lodge. The sun is setting fast and the red color of the sky is only deepening, as is her fear.

Once outside, she hears a cacophony of shouts mingling with the rain and dispersed shots. Focusing as best as she can with the adrenaline pumping through her system, she’s pretty sure she can make out Wake’s shouts amid the din. With no better lead, she follows his voice, gun and flashlight drawn.

She’s cautious as she moves through the forest, especially when the shouting and gunfire stops. The heavy rainfall is even more noticeable, and another loud thrum from above has joined it, but she stays focused on her surroundings in the hopes of finding Casey and Wake. Her search is fruitful since it isn’t long until she spots a familiar flannel-clad figure on the ground.

As well as the knife-wielding cultist hovering above him.

“FBI. Drop the knife.” She asserts loudly, pushing forward toward the two.

The cultist ignores her and raises the weapon in an attempt to stab, so Saga shoots it out of their hands. The action causes them to fall back in pain, mask flying off, leaving Saga to stare in disbelief at the identity of the culprit in front of her.

“Ilmo?”

Ilmo Koskela doesn’t react angrily to his cover being blown, nor does he make any attack against her. Instead, he tries to push himself up again.

Both his eyes and voice are filled with desperation, taking her aback. “Saga, you don’t understand-”

Whatever he was going to say is cut short as the two of them shield their eyes when a sudden rush of noise, light and people surrounds them, and she recognizes that thrum in the air too late. Helicopters, with searchlights pointed straight at them.

A new voice fills the air.

“FBC. Stay down.”

She briefly sees agents of some kind swarm in and enclose Wake and Ilmo, who slowly puts his hands up and looks just as confused as she feels. Some other agents walk in her direction, a suited lady appearing to take the lead.

The woman reaches her and gains her attention.

“Agent Anderson,” the lead agent greets, her nonchalant tone making Saga’s blood boil, “Agent Kiran Estevez, Federal Bureau of Control. We’ll take it from here.”

Saga blinks as she processes what’s happening. The Federal Bureau of Control is here? She’s pretty sure neither her nor Casey called for backup, so then why..?

“Wait,” she says aloud. “This is my case.”

“This is no longer an FBI investigation. The case has been transferred to us.” Agent Estevez replies, handing her a file that conveniently has enough official stamps and signatures on the front for her to confirm that she’s telling the truth without having to read it in-depth.

“What…” Saga skims the document one more time before handing it back in indignation. “This is bullshit!"

After everything she’d gone through in this case, this other bureau thought they could just swoop in and take over? Did they have any idea what they were dealing with?

“Noted.” Agent Estevez doesn’t bat an eye at her remark. “We’re moving the evidence and paperwork from your field office to our base of operations at the Sheriff’s Station.”

That part doesn’t worry Saga as much as it could, knowing that she already has the relevant information stored in her Mind Place and that the field office would have taken up precious time to try and salvage.

“Any other pieces of evidence with you, anything relevant?” Estevez continues.

Saga’s mind immediately flies to the Clicker. She can’t trust them with it, not after understanding its importance.

“Nothing comes to mind.” She lies, playing along.

No, the Clicker would stay with her until it was safely in Wake’s hands. Then he’ll fix everything and she will be able to close her case.

Luckily, Estevez accepts her answer. “Okay. Then your work here is done.”

Estevez has the audacity to shoot Saga a smile and a patronizing comment (“Hey, you did well.”) before turning to address her agents.

How dare she. How dare she treat this insane case like just another day at the office? How dare she take control of the case that was assigned to her and…

Casey.

He isn’t at the scene.

“Wait,” she calls out, causing Estevez to throw her an annoyed look but stopping nonetheless, “my partner Agent Casey’s MIA.”

Estevez just nods. “We’ll look for him.”

If Saga’s blood was boiling before, it’s practically on fire now. “He’s my partner, damn it! I should be-”

“Agent.” Estevez warns, interrupting her. “Go home.”

Estevez and her team move away, efficiently clearing the scene with Ilmo and an unconscious Alan Wake in tow, leaving Saga to stand there and watch as her case is dismantled in front of her eyes.

No, she thinks. Fuck this.

She was so close to getting the Clicker to Wake. She’s not done here, not until she finds Casey. Not until her family is safe from this horror story.

She has to carry on. She has no choice. This was personal.

As for how to carry on…

She takes a moment to go over the facts and her deductions in the Mind Place before deciding on a way forward. Officially, the case is out of her hands, but that doesn’t mean she can’t look to other avenues to continue her investigation. Tor and Odin were in the photo with the Clicker, maybe…

Saga’s train of thought slows to a stop.

It’s still raining.

A mundane observation that still catches her by surprise. Was she expecting it to stop? To be able to hear the distant birdsong and soft chirrups of bugs at dusk? 

She surprises herself even more when she realizes that the answer is yes. It feels as though the rain should have stopped by now, but she has no idea why and she can’t think of any evidence to back up her claim. She hadn’t checked the weather or paid close attention to the clouds.

The rain feels different, too. Heavier, with each droplet more defined, falling with purpose. Slightly salty too. Noticeably seawater.

At least she brought her windbreaker.

The distraction is enough to get her to rethink her options. Maybe going straight to Odin and Tor would be too hasty? There’s another major piece of information she’s just learned, and that’s Ilmo’s involvement in the cult. Would it be better to get to the bottom of that first? What doesn’t she understand, according to him?

There’s no harm in it, she decides, and finalizes her decision. She won’t take long because she’d only just explored Coffee World, except now she will investigate with the new angle of Ilmo as a cult member. And where does Jaakko fit into all of this? This could be vital information.

Pushing everything that just happened aside, Saga sets off back to Watery with a fresh determination. She’ll get the Clicker to Wake eventually, but first, Coffee World one more time.

Thanks for reading!

[orangesideirrational]

mvt horror drabble part 2! once again based off @cartilagehumdrum's mvt horror au.

based of this comment on the discord server:

once again, its a copy of something i already wrote in the discord server, but i did change it slightly bc a part of it was bugging me (didnt edit the spelling tho lol)

once again- mentions of body horror, but this one is way better than the other one i did

(speaking of which- bit of a different format but if your interested, here)

hope you enjoy!

it was wonderful. it was everything benny had imagined it would be (maybe dont think too hard about how often he thought about kissing the guy that stole his ribs when they first met). it was warm and sweet and soft and painful and-

there was a searing pain where champagnes lips were softly pressed against his own. benny figured he should probably be more concerned about that but the pain of when champagne took his kidney far outweighed this. and besides, he could probably convince champ to give him whatever it was back.

probably.

'YOU STOLE MY TONGUE?' benny tried to yell, stepping back. keyword- tried. it was surprisingly difficult to talk without a tongue.

champ snickered into his fist and benny's cheeks went red.

'you stole my tongue!?' benny signed (god he was lucky tayrun had forced them all to learn sign language). champ rolled his eyes and smiled, (benny's heart did not flipflop. it did not.) showing off a few very sharp teeth.

'yes.' he replied simply. replied verbally. bastard.

'why did you steal my tongue?' benny asked. he knew he probably wouldn't get a satisfying answer, but he felt he had to ask.

'funny.' champagne stated, before smirking.

'besides, you seemed a little distracted.' champagne flirted (?? was he flirting? it seemed like it) and benny's blush deepened.

'can i have it back?' benny asked. he really didnt want to have to sign for the rest of his life and he kinda needed his tongue to talk.

champagne rolled his eyes before tugging benny closer by his shirt and grumbling a 'fine' against his lips.

it was just as wonderful the second time.

except this time better, because he had a tongue when they pulled away.

[freakytozier]

Mom and Dad

A fruits basket one shot where Tohru and Kyo are called mom and dad. I have never written anything for Fruits Basket so this is probably very out of character and honestly very bad. Still, enjoy!

Word count: 2504

Trigger Warnings: none, this is all pure fluff

“Miss Honda?” Yuki’s voice was soft, careful not to pull the attention of the other students passing by his way. His shadowed loomed over the sitting girl who beamed up at him, head tilted slightly to the side,

“Yes?” Tohru’s voice was just as soft although it was filled to the brim with excited curiosity.

“Would it be alright if the student council group joined this group for lunch tomorrow?” Yuki’s eyes remained on the ground like a child nervously asking for a toy. A small smile graced his lips as Tohru nodded enthusiastically,

:readmore:

“Of course! I am so glad! I can’t wait to meet them.” The girl before him gushed on and on before driving herself into a panic,

“Should I make them lunch? I can prepare a small meal for everyone. Do you think they would like that? A small lunch type platter…” The girl verbally made a list of groceries and what she needed to do tonight and tomorrow to make a friendship feast. Yuki watched in both amazement and horror but expected nothing less from Miss Honda,

“Y-You really don’t have to do that. They just really want to meet you and everybody else. Combine groups. That’s all.” Yuki choked out the sentence as Tohru trailed off to look at him,

“I know that but their your friends, Yuki. I want to do this.” Tohru’s voice was soft but full of genuinity that it almost took Yuki back,

“I almost forgot who I am talking to. Thank you, Miss Honda. I am sure they will love it.” Tohru and Yuki shared a smile as their friends voices filled the afternoon air,

“Tohru! Tohru!” the bounding bunny quickly came between Yuki and Tohru, bouncing on the tips of his toes,

“Momiji! It’s so good to see you!” The genuine beam of a smile caused the bunny to only bounce faster as the annoying cat sulked around to sit near Tohru. Tohru still listening intently to the rambling Momiji, her hand finding its way next to her and close to Kyo’s own resting hand. No one accept Yuki and Kyo himself seemed to notice. Kyo’s face as red as his hair and Yuki’s face filled with an unspoken threat, care for her or I’ll kill you. Hanajima, Uotoni, and Haru came next, a sign that Yuki’s time with the girl before him was over. With a small smile he turned to head to the student council meeting,

“Yuki!” Tohru’s yell caught him as he turned half way back, a matching smile on her lips, “Just take care of yourself, okay? Don’t work too hard.”

“Of course Miss. Honda, I will see you later today.” The giggling voices and loud arguments erupted behind Yuki as he left to find Machi and the others.

***

Machi and the others were easy to find, all sat around the small table in the student council room. A deep breath and Yuki opened the door caught in a whirlwind of excited shouts and complaints,

“Yun-Yun! You finally came to Kimi and others! Kimi is so excited.”

“Hey Yun-Yun. What did mom say about lunch?”

“Where were you?! The meeting started 2 minutes ago! You of all people can NOT be slacking President!”

“Yuki.”

The voices clamored over each other but Yuki settled on sitting next to Machi and glaring at Manabe,

“What did you call Miss Honda?” The venom in Yuki’s voice only caused the group to snicker as Manabe’s smile widened into a full blown smirk,

“Mom. what did she say about lunch tomorrow?” Manabe’s voice lilted with laughter as Yuki let a scowl settle on his face,

“Do. Not. Call. Her. That.” Each word was punctuated with a deepening glare that caused the others in the group to share a look as Manabe puffed out his chest,

“I can call her whatever I like. Who is to tell me not to?” Manabe made sure to lean forward, baiting the seething president,

“Yuki. He’s teasing. Lets just get started.” Machi’s voice was soft but it was enough to pull Yuki out of his glaring contest with Manabe. He turned to look at the soft spoken girl and let out a sigh,

“Fine, fine. It’s my fault anyways.” Yuki’s voice was soft when addressing Machi, always soft. Manabe’s chest puffed out even farther at the idea that he won this round with the president. Machi nodded a small smile finding its way onto her face.

“Alright lets get started…”

***

The meeting went with out too many issues. A few outburst from Nao about not being able to work in these conditions that caused a few “cut shortstop,” jokes from Kimi and Manabe. Overall, Yuki took it as a win. The early back and forth nearly slipped his mind, until he saw Manabe leaning against the door frame waiting for Yuki to catchup. Machi had already left, leaving Yuki to deal with her brother alone, and Yuki never really blamed her. Manabe was a lot.

“You know I was joking, right Yun-Yun?” Manabe made his voice a little lower than normal, maybe even holding a hint of apology in his tone. Grim faced, Yuki nodded,

“I know, its just-” The incomplete sentence hangs in the air between the two, the unspoken words a understanding that causes Manabe to break into his signature smirk. A smirk that Yuki has seen one too many times today, “Don’t even-”

“You haven’t told Miss Honda how you see her yet, have you? Oh Yun-Yun, you poor soul.” The mocking tone filling Yuki with weighted dread,

“No. I haven’t. I would like to keep it that way. I’m not ready yet-”

“Yet you told me about it? Doesn’t she deserve to know? Sure, it’s weird but it’s only fair. Honda deserves to know. Plus, based off what you have told me about her, I don’t think she will mind much.” Manabe shrugged as Yuki kept his eyes downcast,

“It could ruin everything. I can’t lose her. Not yet.” The words were spoken so softly, Manabe almost didn’t hear him. Another shrug was Yuki’s only response as Manabe turned to leave,

“Thanks, Manabe. I’ll- I’ll think about it. Just… don’t embarrass me tomorrow. Okay?” An olive branch of compromise for tomorrow yet,

“No promises Yun-Yun, I mean you should have seen your face today! See ya tomorrow?” Manabe stalked off, his laughter trailing behind him. Yuki sulked in the corner before making his way out of the council’s meeting room, the dread of tomorrow swirling in the pits of his stomach.

***

Anxiety fluttered in Yuki’s stomach as he entered the shared home,

“Ah, Yuki, great to see you have finally made your way home!” Shigure lamented as Tohru beamed and Kyo scowled,

“So he’s home, who cares?” Kyo’s retort was left unanswered. The usual back and forth falling flat. Kyo shrugged but Tohru wide eyed made sure to jump in,

“So Yuki, how was school today?” A lame attempt but Yuki just shook his head answering the unspoken question,

“I’m alright Miss Honda, just tired. Plus, I see no need interacting with that stupid cat.” Head up eye and chest puffed out, Yuki played up his normal hatred as Tohru’s posture relaxed at the normalcy,

“Oh, okay. Just let me know if you need anything. Okay, Yuki?” A simple huff was response enough as he headed up the stairs to his room.

“I wonder what that was all about.” Kyo muttered as once again Tohru sprang up wide-eyed,

“But he said he was alright. Maybe he’s just stressed from the student council! It has been a lot for him.” The girl tried to reason as Shigure nodded along. Kyo only shrugged, unsure of how to calm Tohru,

“Maybe.”

“Oh! I need to get started on dinner and the friendship feast. Kyo, do you want to help?” An innocent question but a deep blush rushed to the cat’s cheeks as he let out a hearty sigh,

“I guess. Someone needs to make sure you don’t injure yourself in the kitchen.” The two joked and talked as the banging of pots and pans filled the small room. Shigure sat with a book in hand and a sly smirk resting on his face.

***

“Hi, my name is Tohru Honda. It’s an honor to meet you all.” The sentence filled with excitement and genuine joy accompanied by a deep bow, “I really hope you enjoy this feast Kyo and I prepared!” The redhead tsked with a wave of a hand.

“This is Hatsuharu Sohma, Momiji Sohma, Hana-Chan, and Uo-Chan as well! We are all very excited to have you join our group today!” Tohru continued to ramble as the small group of student council members gawked at the overly polite girl.

“Tohru…Tohru!” a sudden hand on the top of her head with a reassuring pressure. Mouth moving but no words coming out, eyes up, finding Kyo’s hand resting there. It was enough to calm the easily flustered girl. Her shoulders relaxed and her smile became more apologetic. The first of the student council to step up was the up-tight Nao,

“It’s nice to meet you, and thank you for the food. I would like to apologize in advance for my dim-witted counterparts.” The annoyed tone accompanied with a slight bow. Manabe was quick to bring his hand down on top of Nao’s head,

“That’s. Rude. Short stack!”

“Ow! Manabe!? Really?!”

“Oh, please, there’s no need to fight. Really!” Tohru’s frantic voice cut through the sudden commotion. Tohru’s group just watched in amusement,

“This is going to be fun,” the rough voice of Uotoni’s whisper interrupted the argument as Hanajima only nodded in agreement,

“ I agree. Their waves are all so… interesting.” The girl in all black watched blankly as Machi was the next to step forward,

“It is lovely to meet you Miss Honda. Thank you for everything, truly.” The softness of Machi’s voice trembled with her intimidation of the sweet girl in front of her. Machi wasn’t scared of the girl, no. She was truly amazed at the kindness that helped shape Yuki into who he is and was filled with this type of awe. As much as she would never admit it to Yuki, Machi knew how important this meeting was. She wanted Tohru to like her, as Yuki’s designated mother. It was laughable really, how hard Machi was trying to get Tohru to like her even after hearing about her endless kindness,

“Please, call me Tohru. I truly hope we can be friends!” An outstretched hand is all that the trembling Machi needed to know that she was succeeding. Bringing her own hand to reach Tohru’s, she almost gasped at the warmth that worked its way up her arm,

“I would love that T-To-Tohru.” Machi tried to keep her features smooth, resisting the urge to tighten her face in annoyance with her stutters. Hands not yet close to letting go of one another was when Manabe finally stepped up,

“Yo, madre. How’s it hanging?” The icy glare Yuki sent his way almost stopped the gaining grin that consumed his face. Tohru’s group stared with wide jaws and unblinking eyes as Tohru’s face become heated with a ferocious blush,

“I- you- What?”

“What did you call her?” The striking calm voice of Kyo. He made sure to grab Tohru’s wrist closest to him. A subtle claim that seemed to say, watch your words. She’s mine. This only caused Manabe’s comical wide smile to grow even more,

“Don’t worry Padre. It’s just a joke. Yuki here…the way we heard about Miss Honda here, she sounded like a lovely mom to our dear Yun-Yun. It seems if she’s the mom, you’d be the dad.” Yuki’s face burned as Manabe stuck his tongue out towards Yuki in defiance before turning back to the blushing Tohru and the seething Kyo.

“It’s nice to meet everyone. Mom, Dad, Uo, Hana, Haru, and Momiji. Did I miss anyone?” The group clamored for anything to grab hold to in order to calm the blushing Kyo and Tohru,

“It really does fit. Ya know? Tohru does act quite like a mutter and I guess Kyo could be a grumpy Papa.” Momiji giggled at the thought as Haru nodded firmly,

“I could see it.” The rest of the group clamored to agree as Manabe slyly looked at the calming Yuki. The red flash of embarrassment turned pink as he just watched both groups agree at the concept, except Hanajima,

“No. If anything, Tohru is our darling, precious daughter. You all have to see it.” Hanajima’s eyes found Uo who nodded subtly. Kyo, without missing a beat,

“Fine. You two are the old hags of this family.” Letting go of Tohru’s wrist and crossing his arms across his chest, “If I am getting a role I don’t want then so are you too.” The two girls grumbled but accepted their fate as the next student council member jumped to be next,

“Kimi was worried for second that you forgot about her! You wouldn’t have let them, would you Yun-Yun?” The girls eyes widened and brimmed with false tears. Her fingers interlocked in front of her. Her lips jutted out as a small pout but all Yuki could do was role his eyes. Tohru jumped to respond,

“I am so sorry! We would never leave anybody out! It is a pleasure to meet you Kimi. Please enjoy some of the lunch we have prepared!” Tohru’s eyes sparkled as Kimi immediately perked up,

“Kimi thanks you so! Lets dig in!” At the final statement both groups agreed and surged towards the friendship feast. Manabe clamored to annoy the blushing cat, Nao turned to talk to Momiji and Haru in hopes of a riveting conversation (he only later learned he made a mistake), and Machi found confort next to the stoic Hanajima. Kimi jumped around to groups openly flirting and pouting with anyone she could. Tohru stood back and watched the scene, Yuki slowly walking up to her,

“It sure looks like we will all be friends in no time!” Tohru gushed as Yuki could only nod. The swirling dread from yesterday tightening into a knot in his stomach,

“I’m sorry about them. They can be a lot. I also want to apologize for the whole mo-”

“Don’t. I don’t mind being seen as a mother figure. I see it as an accomplishment. My whole life I have wanted to stay connected to my own mother. I have always tried to mimic her kindness and it’s an honor to know that others recognize that. You all can see me as a mother. I don’t mind. It makes my heart happy in the strangest way.” Tohru’s words trailed off as she watched Manabe’s smirk and Kyo’s signature scowl deepen. She choked down a laugh as Yuki let out a blinding smile. Ready to move on in the conversation he was taken aback when the two groups looked over at Tohru and then Kyo. All together,

“Thanks mom and dad!”

[phoenix-d-shunko]

Whispering Inferno, Part 5

Loads of word repetitions..here we go.

Also some graphic stuff in the beginning.

In the abandoned gym lobby, Kaida found herself at a critical juncture. The iron skewers embedded in her sides were both a lifeline and a liability. The decision to remove them weighed heavily on her, like an impending storm.

Summoning a reservoir of resolve, she gripped the protruding ends, wincing as searing pain shot through her. The gym's eerie silence magnified the sound of her strangled breaths. The metallic scent of blood permeated the air, intensifying the gravity of the situation.

As the skewers slid out, Kaida couldn't suppress a guttural groan, the agony momentarily eclipsed by the relief of liberation. However, she couldn't linger in that reprieve. Clutching the blood-soaked ends, she swayed unsteadily, her surroundings merging into a disorienting blur.

Summoning the last of her strength, Kaida awkwardly stashed the bloodied skewers among the rusty gym equipment. The worn-out machinery became an unintended hiding place for her grim secret. Every move she made sent waves of pain through her, and sweat dotted her forehead by the time the covert disposal was over.

With the act done, the weight of her actions pressed down on Kaida. Her unsteady legs threatened to buckle, and she found momentary refuge by slumping against the gym locker. The air in the dimly lit gym carried the distinct scent of blood, and the quiet struggle against unconsciousness played out in the forgotten corners of the abandoned space.

In this vulnerable moment, Mei burst into the lobby, unaware of the covert ballet that had unfolded just moments ago. Her eyes widened with horror at the sight of Kaida. There, slumped against the lockers, Kaida's complexion had drained to a pallid hue. The room seemed to echo with the heavy breaths escaping Kaida's lips, each one a testament to the ordeal she had endured.

The blood-stained remnants of Kaida's earlier battle clung to her, and Mei's heart sank at the evident struggle etched on her sister's face. A mix of fear and determination flickered in Mei's eyes as she rushed to Kaida's side. Dropping her bag, Mei knelt down, gently supporting Kaida's weakened frame.

"Kai, oh my god, what happened?" Mei's voice trembled with a blend of shock and concern. She took in the blood-soaked scene, the remnants of a fierce fight, and the sheer exhaustion etched on Kaida's face. Fear gripped Mei as she realized the severity of Kaida's condition.

Kaida, caught in a haze of delirium, mumbled fragmented words. "Mei, it's like a carnival ride... spinning... don't let go." The disjointed phrases only deepened Mei's worry. With a shaky breath, Mei reassured her sister, "I'm here, Kai. I won't let go. Just hold on, okay?"

Kneeling beside Kaida, Mei carefully examined the visible cuts and wounds, her fingers deftly probing for any sign of more serious injuries. The metallic scent of blood hung heavy in the air as Mei worked diligently, trying to stem the bleeding and provide comfort to her injured sister.

She reached into her bag, retrieving a makeshift first aid kit she always carried. Mei knew that her medical student skills might be limited, but she was determined to do whatever she could. Swiftly, she cleaned the wounds, applied antiseptic, and expertly bandaged the more superficial cuts. Mei's actions were a delicate dance between addressing the immediate injuries and trying to stabilize Kaida for the journey ahead.

Despite the urgency of the situation, Mei's touch exuded a reassuring calmness. "Hang in there, Kai," she whispered, her words a gentle encouragement amidst the chaos. Mei's medical training, though still in progress, was a lifeline in that moment, a testament to her dedication to helping her sister in any way she could.

After Mei had done what little first aid was possible in the dimly lit gym lobby, she turned her attention to Kaida, who lay sprawled on the floor. Gently coaxing her to sit up, Mei's hands worked with practiced care, her touch a mix of tenderness and urgency.

"There you go, Kai. Easy now," Mei encouraged, her voice a soothing melody in the otherwise tense atmosphere.

With Kaida now seated, Mei shifted her approach. She grabbed one arm, positioning herself strategically to offer support. The shadows danced across the gym floor as Mei, with determined precision, reached above the visible bruises, careful not to exacerbate Kaida's injuries. The urgency of the situation fueled each movement; time was of the essence.

"Alright, Kai, let's get you on your feet," Mei said, her tone a blend of encouragement and concern.

Slowly and with deliberate effort, Mei started to pull Kaida off the floor. The gym's abandoned echoes seemed to resonate with the weight of the moment. Kaida winced, the pain evident, but she cooperated as much as she could. Mei's focus was unwavering as she navigated the delicate process.

"Steady now. You're doing great," Mei reassured, her words a steady stream of encouragement. The objective was clear – get Kaida up and moving.

As Kaida found her footing, Mei supported her, acutely aware of the fragility of the situation. The air was charged with a sense of urgency and silent determination. Mei encouraged Kaida to take a few steps, her words a lifeline in the impending race against time.

"Walk with me, Kai. I've got a car waiting." Mei insisted, her gaze unwavering as she guided Kaida towards the impending journey to seek medical attention.

Mei's hands trembled as she gently placed Kaida in the back seat, and the weight of her sister felt heavier with each step. Determination and rising panic pulsed in Mei's breath as she started the car, navigating through the labyrinth of traffic.

In the back of the car, Kaida's mutterings became a disoriented stream of consciousness. "Can't... gotta stop... need to run. Mei's worried... I'm going to... it's too much." The words, tinged with delirium, floated in the confined space, revealing the internal struggle Kaida grappled with.

Mei dialed Zeke's number, keeping her eyes on the road, her foot pressing down on the gas pedal a bit harder, fueled by the urgency to get Kaida help as soon as possible.

Also no matter what people, drive safe. This is fiction. No talking on the phone.

[keicordelle]

Not a Champion, Just a Knight Ch. 2 (Nidhogg's Reign)

Fandom: FFXIV Rating: M Pairing: Past F WoL/Haurchefant Greystone Word Count: 5.4k Archive Warnings: Major Character Death, Graphic Depictions of Violence Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Haurchefant Greystone Lives, Angst, Tragedy, Dark, Grief/Mourning, Body Horror, POV First Person

Summary: You have ever been my hero. Now, you must be the world's. I pass my mantle to you.

Atop the Vault after racing to save Aymeric, Ser Zephirin hurls his Spear of Fury and Haurchefant is not fast enough to save the Warrior of Light. As she lies dying in his arms, she makes one final request of him: that he take up her title and become Eorzea's new hero. Overcome with grief, he vows to avenge her death, and sets his sights and his rage on Thordan and his knights twelve. Even so, he is not the vaunted Warrior of Light, and he cannot face these challenges alone.

-

There was no time to linger on the hollowness in my chest where my heart used to lay, no time for my friends to celebrate our victory over Thordan and his knights twelve. Between one moment and the next, our temporary peace - in whatever form it took - was shattered as Estinien knelt to pry free the Right Eye from the Sword of Ascalon. For the barest of moments, he held them both, the sickly red aura they emitted deepening the bloody red that stained his armor until it seemed to weep freely.

"All that remains is to take them beyond the reach of man and dragon both. With this task accomplished, my toils shall finally be-" His body stiffened before he had a chance to finish, the red glow of the Eyes rising in a clear sign that something was wrong. The rest of us turned to him, concern knitting my brow. His entire body began to shake as Estinien seemed to fight an internal battle, and from beneath his bloody helm, his eyes began to glow red. Hands clutched at weapons, Emmanellain shifting nervously as he glanced between the dragoon and the path back the way we'd come.

Whatever war he was waging, it was clear he was losing. Spine arching, his head wrenched back, scream tearing from his lips. "The Eyes! They're overwhelming him!" I realized, and my shout energized the group, jolting Aymeric and Artoirel to action. As one, we lunged forward to pry them free from his hands. My fingers had just landed on the Left Eye when I was blasted back, a dragon's roar echoing through my mind. I blinked stars from my vision, and in the darkness behind my eyelids swam forth the immense figure of a black scaled dragon, red eyes focused on me and jaws parted - in a battle cry or with the intent to consume me, I was unsure.

When my vision cleared enough for my surroundings to swim back into focus, I found the spectre became reality. I could do naught but watch in horror as Estinien's limbs lengthened, his anguish that still rang through the air growing distorted as his bones shifted, restructuring themselves until four curved horns of black bone jutted forth. His jaw lengthen, lips peeling back to reveal jagged teeth, until his face was not a face but a snout. His chin grew into a sharp point, dark scales pouring over his flesh. Bones cracked as his spine shifted, forcing him to the ground as the joints in his arms and legs contorted, chest expending and shoulders rolling in until his limbs bent the other direction, those of a quadruped. His fingers and toes stretched, claws sprouting from their tips. Whether his armor had been absorbed or simply discarded I did not know, but there was nothing to hide the contortions of his body as a tail ripped itself free from the end of his spine, lashing as it tore through his skin, already covered in black scales and vicious spikes. His wail of agony reached its peak as his shoulder blades split with a sharp crack, twin wings sprouting from his back. His scream of torment would haunt me for the rest of my life, but even it could not compare to the sound that followed. My blood chilled in my veins as the monster that had torn itself free from my friend's body turned his shriek into a laugh, pure delight echoing on the heels of unimaginable pain.

I stumbled back as the thing that had once been Estinien swung its massive head towards me. Somehow during the transformation it had grown in size until it was impossibly large, bigger than any dragon I had ever fought. Red eyes flicked over our assembled party, coming to land on me. "Nidhogg," I heard my own voice breathe.

A voice that did not belong to our friend shattered the air with its bassy rumble, shaking the floor beneath us as it spoke. "For a thousand years hast I suffered the torment of man. Now shalt I bestow that same suffering upon thee and thine."

-

Read the rest on Ao3!

FIRST | NEXT

[thetrashbagswasteland]

I spy your tag and so I raise you: POV!

Oh ho so I really like writing the same events from differing POVs so here we have... baby pathfinder Ryder desperately looking for an adultier adult and very much not finding one in a morose old ex-spectre!

Heart Of A Dancer, Ch 1: The Lifeline

“Older than that.” He completed, and his eyes were a long way distant. Stuck some six hundred years in the past. It aged him something terrible, in truth. Maybe SAM had some clue how old he really was. He had to be like… late thirties, right? Young enough to still be a soldier, old enough to have spent the fifteen years he’d once claimed to have spent as a spectre. “Avitus Rix was born in 2129. In the alliance standard calendar, the date would correspond with the fourth of September.” SAM informed her, quite casual about reading her mental questions these days. So that made him… fifty eight. Just twenty-odd years out on her assumption. Turians aged unfairly well. And, shit. He was three days younger than Dad. That was weird to think about. She’d genuinely assumed that he was younger than that given how he threw himself headfirst into firefights, given the stories already being told about how he took on the kett like a one-person army. Given how angry he was with the universe at large. Fifty eight and a widower with a damaged AI he’d not intended to host forced into his head. Actually, it was little wonder he was this pissed off with his life. He… hadn’t signed up for this part of the job any more than she had. Did he know he wasn’t alone, though? “You know… you’re not the only one with a SAM issue.” Sara said, desperate to fill the yawning silence as much as to reach across the metaphorical gap and remind him that there were people who could understand some of his pain. The slow way his head turned towards her, one eye laser focused and distinctly more sober than she’d expected, wasn’t pleasant or friendly. A flash of teeth with his intake of breath and a low rumble that her translator stubbornly refused to parse vibrated through the air. It was weirdly reminiscent of that classic horror vid with the dinosaurs. Only… this velociraptor one was clever enough to talk and had a fuckoff big gun strapped to his back to go with the claws and teeth. “My dad shoved a bunch of his own memories in the human SAM and locked them up tight, I’ve had to jump through hoops to get them accessible.” She continued, a thought coming to her regardless that she was being sized up like dinner by a prehistoric monster. “They were… tough to see. Wish I hadn’t.”

And to compare

Beyond Familiar Stars, Ch 1: 2821 - Anger

“Older than that.” He admitted cagily. Avitus wasn’t about to admit that he’d come up here to drink and mourn the fact that Raeka was right; he had nobody to miss that had not died by now. There was nobody to miss him, there was nobody to care that little old Rix was still clinging to life. Hell, the closest thing he had to a friend in either galaxy was the twenty-two year old kid of a man he’d given war trauma to, and wasn’t that just fun? “You know… you’re not the only one with a SAM issue.” Sara said, quite out of the blue after they had lapsed into companionable, sorrowful silence. At this, he looked over, senses dulled to a point where he did not feel the immediate urge to snap at her that she had no idea, nor to react with outright hostile suspicion at whatever she was about to admit. “My dad shoved a bunch of his own memories in the human SAM and locked them up tight, I’ve had to jump through hoops to get them accessible.” She said, and the haunted look only deepened. “They were… tough to see. Wish I hadn’t.”

[walking-shade]

There was much Poppet trying to ignore about the behavior. Each moment of shock, or the way it flinches away from both word and touch, creates a growing sense of unease. Within the ruins of her home, it was clear that time had passed, but so much to warrant such a reaction..made her nervous.

When their expression changed, Poppet knew it all at once. It was the look of refugees fleeing to the village with tales of their homes being destroyed. It was the look of parents when their children had wandered too far and were taken by the extremist. When the decree was called for their extermination, it was held within the expression of faces Poppet found difficult to recall.

The Lamb's words sat uncomfortably on her neck as they spoke in the past tense. She felt the weight of them as the creeping unease spiraled into a deepening dread.

Even though it wanted distance, Poppet found herself cautiously walking down the cracked stairs. As she approached, each step became heavier and more difficult to put down. It felt as if she was walking towards finality. If she turned away perhaps their sorrow could of been ignored.

It would have been kinder. Nevertheless, it seemed crucial to stand before them, to almost reach out again and offer a kind hand to brush away that whatever horrors they had witnessed would be okay.

The poor thing..it's hands trembled so much. Yet it signed the very thing Poppet did not want to acknowledge. A truth the very ruins was a testament to. Signs so willingly she ignored to try and find a home she remembered.

No one else. There would be no one else.

Poppet blinked. Then blinked a few more times as the words began to process. Maybe there was an error. It's been quite some time since she saw someone sign. There was a mistake in translating. It had to be a mistake in translating.

It was her turn now for legs to give out under the weight of this truth. Her face filtering a mixture of realization and horror as she collapsing to her knees before the Lamb. The only sound made from the bells that jostled at the abrupt landing.

She touched the old stone underneath her, tracing its once vibrant patterns that were now dull and indistinguishable. The once regal structure was filled with hundreds of her flock arriving at this holy place. Did the remaining deities ever listen when the bishops turned against them? Did they even care for the desperate devotion poured out for any claim?

Were their cries for mercy not heard by anyone? Their songs for guidance? When she had gone did.. not one even try to help?

"You can't mean that." Her voice shook in disbelief as she spoke, eyes darting up looking to The Lamb in hopes this was a cruel joke.

"You can't mean that!" She repeated, more desperate now. Poppet wanted to get up and walk away from this terrible attempt at humor yet her legs refused to move.

"How could they.. not all of us. They couldn't have gotten all of us.. That's.." Impossible? Unthinkable? Poppet felt her face growing hot as a dull ringing started in her ears, partially blocking out sound.

Everything felt too quiet and too loud.

@walking-shade

At her words, The Lamb cannot help but find themselves wincing as she speaks in that long-forgotten tongue of their people…and at her touch, their body jolts back violently, a look of shock crossing its features as the reality of the situation begins to sink in. This was not just a daydream– they had not lost their mind. Somehow, in a way unbeknownst to the both of them, she had managed to defy the fate of their species and come back to this place. But how could such a thing be possible? Who was responsible for this, and why? Hundreds of questions seem to fill their mind at once, their gaze growing distant as they ponder over the many possibilities…but before The Lamb can even think to voice them, Poppet speaks up once more, dragging them away from their worries. For a moment, it pauses yet again, seeming unsure of itself as it attempts to muster up some sort of response…a look of deep sorrow covering its face as it realizes that they must be the one to break the news to her.

Keep reading

[sevikasupremacy]

If Only - Sevika x Fem!Reader

I would like to thank @squiword7 for giving me this prompt! <3

Fluff

Warnings: Angst/Hurt/Comfort

Words: 1,643

Summary: Sevika having an endless amount of work wasn’t an issue for you. But forgetting about your one-year anniversary…?

“Yesterday,” You hopelessly looked outside the window, your eyes wandering the beautiful scenery of Zaun, “It was yesterday.”

Yep. Yesterday. Yesterday was your one-year anniversary with Sevika.

As you sit patiently on your bed, waiting for your lover to burst in with open arms, with a wide grin on her face as she shouts “Happy Anniversary!”. Well, that’s how you imagined it.

You slowly craned your neck to look at the small clock on the painted walls. It’s midnight.

Silco’s probably giving her more work than usual.

You convinced yourself, hugging the pillow as you waited.

And waited.

And waited…

2 am.

You tugged on your strands of hair alarmingly, your teary eyes fixated on the taunting clock. You went back to the window sill, stumbling along the way as you looked out to the streets of Zaun.

No sign of Sevika.

As you continued watching with blurry visions, you couldn’t help but let out a soft cry. You choked on the overwhelming pain, feeling the obvious lump in your throat.

This isn’t what you imagined… or wanted.

If only she could come home on time for once. If only she could acknowledge yesterday and try to come home earlier. If only… she was here for you. But oh well, you can throw all those thoughts out the window.

Tick.

The sound of the clock made your heart skip a beat. You looked back, your eyebrows furrowing in anger and sadness.

3 am.

Your breath hitches as you let out a loud exhale. You went back to your shared bed, pulling the blanket up to your face as you silently cried. As you stared blankly at the ceiling with your tear-stained face, the familiar slam of the door made you jolt up.

“Fucking hell.” You heard Sevika muttering from the other room, the whirling sound of her mechanical arm could be heard.

“Vika..?” You hesitantly cried out, your eyes training on the moving shadow from the other room.

No answer.

You let out a disappointed huff, crossing your arms as you looked back at the clock, ignoring the sound of the footsteps of the grumpy woman getting closer to you.

“No words at all?” Sevika grunted, throwing her cape onto the bed next to you. You shifted your body away, your head facing the other direction.

“Really?” Sevika deepened her tone, “What’s going on with you? You weren’t even at the Last Drop yesterday.”

“Do I have to be there every day?” You cleared your throat, still avoiding eye contact with the furious woman standing beside the bed.

“What’s wrong with you?” You noticed Sevika raising your voice, “What is it?”

You shook your head, biting your lip in annoyance.

“Whatever. It doesn’t matter anyways.”

“Y/N.”

You flinched, the roaring of Sevika’s voice made you want to cry again.

“I’ve had enough fucking headaches already okay?! Now what?!” Sevika’s knuckles slammed onto the concrete wall, causing the picture frames to vibrate.

“I CAN’T DEAL WITH THIS BULLSHIT EVERY DAY!”

Your heart stopped as soon as you saw her eyes glowing purple along with her mechanical arm. You scooted even further away this time, using your blanket as comfort as you stared at the infuriated woman.

“V-Vika…” You sniffled, unable to control the tears once again. You pulled the blanket closer to your face as if you were protecting yourself from your lover. You let out another choked cry, your eyes red and puffy as you stared in horror.

Sevika let out another grunt before turning around, heading back to the door.

“Sevika, wait! Please!” You heard the deafening sound of the door, making you cover your ears in pain.

“No…” You collapsed onto the wooden floor with a thud, ignoring the aching pain on your knees. As you hastily stood up, you rushed to the door.

Oh if only she could just listen to you. If only she was just patient with you. Just for a few minutes.

“Sevika..?” You ran down the apartment building, unaware of the surroundings as you hurried down the stairs. Without being careful, you stumbled on the last couple of steps, scraping your already sore knees, causing them to bleed. You squeaked in pain before standing up and continuing running as if nothing happened. The cold, freezing sensation of the air brushed past your skin as you roamed the streets of Zaun, your eyes hastily wandered around.

“Vika!” You shouted as you ran along the streets, the pain on your knees wasn't making things any better.

“Ah fuck–” Your knees started trembling from the endless amount of running. You glanced down at the bloody patches before shakily finding a nearby wooden crate to sit on. You weakly balanced yourself onto the crate, making sure not to injure your knees again. As you exhaustingly continued to look for your lover, you noticed that the street lights of Zaun were going off. It was supposed to be earlier, but most Zaunites were done with their work and were ready to head home. And you should too.

As you carefully stood up again, ready to head home, you felt another sharp sting from your knees. But you continued walking, fighting the pain as you ignored the people who were taking quick glances at you. Tears started forming again as you kept on enduring the pain that started to grow. You knew it would take forever to reach Sevika’s apartment but you didn’t want to give up.

If only she could be here and sweep you off your feet, taking you home with her.

Looks like God finally listens to you.

Just before you could take another step, a strong pair of arms scooped you up. The familiar tobacco scent surrounded your tense body, making you feel a bit fuzzy.

And just before you knew it.

You were back home.

Sevika gently sets you back down on the bed before leaving once again. Before you could even process what just happened, the older woman came back with a wet towel. She didn’t say a word to you, instead, she was focusing on the bloody wounds on your knees. You knew she was frustrated and guilty judging by the way her lips tightened into a thin line, her eyebrows knitting in anger.

You whispered out a “sorry” but she didn’t respond. She kept cleaning the wounds, careful not to rub too hard.

After hours of awkward silence, she finally stood up, raising your chin up so she could get a better view of you. You looked down at her chest, scared to look at the older woman in the eyes.

“Look at me.” Sevika softened her tone, the pad of her thumbs softly stroking your cheek. You took a deep breath and looked up, eyes meeting with her.

“Look I’m…” Sevika stared at you with half-lidded eyes, “Why is this difficult to say…” Her voice turned into a whisper.

As your eyes trained on the older woman, you reached your hands out to hold onto her waist, nudging her to come closer. Sevika did as you say before placing her hand on the nape of your neck, pulling you closer to her chest. You nuzzled, wrapping your arms around her waist as you felt Sevika’s hand stroking your hair.

“I didn’t mean to do that.” Sevika finally spoke up, her other hand on your shoulder. As soon as she heard the sniffles, she pulled you away before cupping your face again. With the pad of her thumbs, she tenderly wiped the tears away before planting soft kisses on your cheek, making you giggle a little.

“Can you tell me what was going on now?” Sevika sat beside you, her hand on top of yours.

“It’s just…” You turned your head to look away, “If only you knew what yesterday was…”

Another moment of silence filled the room as you waited for your lover to say something. If she does remember.

That’s when you felt a tight squeeze from your hand.

“I’m sorry,” Sevika held your chin before tilting your head to face her, “Fuck I’m really sorry Y/N.”

She stroked your cheek, biting her lip in disappointment. You gave her a soft, sincere smile before wrapping your arms around her neck, pulling her into another tight hug.

“I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t be mad. Work is important too-“

“You’re more important.”

“Mhm, now come here.” You kissed the older woman on the forehead before scooting back to lay down. You patted your chest, gesturing to her to come lay with you, Sevika let out a relieved sigh before crawling toward you, slowly moving in between your legs, careful not to scrape your injured knees. She leisurely lowered her head against your chest before mumbling out a “Is this okay?” to make sure she wasn’t too heavy for you. You hummed, raising your hand up to play with her hair.

“I’m really sorry Y/N,” You felt Sevika nudging her cheek closer to your chest, “I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”

WIth your other hand, you gently traced Sevika’s back with your fingers, feeling the same strong pair of arms wrapping around your waist.

“I’ll tell Silco to give me a day off tomorrow.” Sevika’s voice was muffled from all the nuzzling she was doing.

“No, what?” Your hands stopped in their tracks, “You shouldn’t do that.”

“Can he really say no to me though?” She scoffed before resting her chin on your chest to look at you, the way her gray eyes softened as soon as she stared at you made you smile even wider.

Sevika smiled sheepishly before sliding her body upwards, her nose tickling the crook of your neck. She positioned her arms up to your shoulders, pulling herself closer to you until you felt her hot breath against your neck.

“Tomorrow, I’ll make you feel like the luckiest woman in the world..” Sevika whispered

“I promise.”

[hotwings0203]

Idk what this is but the thought of you being scared of Bakugos quirk is so hot to me

Tw:noncon, predatory behavior

“I swear he’s getting to be more and more like a villain every time I see him,” you giggle with Mina as you two walk out of the class. Bakugo had yet again exploded at one of your shared teachers for correcting him in his pronunciation of a word, and as usual it was quite a scene to behold. Chairs were almost thrown, his friends had to hold him back from leaping up while others egged him on, itching for amusement in their mind-numbingly dull class.

“Maybe Shigaraki was right,” your pink-haired friend snorts and you both collapse in wheezes, clawing and slapping at each other’s shoulders as the ludicrous image of Shigaraki being unable to reign in Bakugo comes to mind.

“Hey ladies, what’re you two laughing about?” A lilting and charming voice comes right at your ear, and you turn to see Denki, Kirishima and…Bakugo walking next to you.

Just because of his proximity and how you were literally just talking about him two seconds ago, you jump away from Bakugo’s glowering face and not so subtly hide behind Mina in a half playful jest.

“Huh? Whatcha ya jumpin’ around for?” Kirishima laughs and you exchange an embarrassed look with Mina.

“Oh nothing, we were just talking about how Bakugo’s quirk is totally villainous. We’re lucky he’s on our side,” Mina singsongs, but you slap her arm in alarm.

And well placed alarm at that, because Bakugo’s scowl deepens as he turns his head to you in a death-glare. You swallow hard seeing his expression and try to nervously laugh.

“But, uh, we were just joking. Right Mina?” You give her a pointed look and she deflects it happily.

“Nope! At least you weren’t, you’re half scared to death of him, isn’t that right Y/N?”

Denki interrupts before you can sputter in horror.

“Honestly, who isn’t scared of this dude?” He claps the other blond on his back and yelps when Bakugo’s hands start curling with smoke.

“Watch it dumbass.” He cranes his head to meet your eyes, but when he finds that you’re still avoiding eye contact with him he starts moving around his friends to better talk to you.

“My quirk isn’t that scary you idiot. It’s not like I care enough about any of you to blow you up-“

But with the smoke still curling form his hands and with the permanently intimidating scowl on his face reading closer and close to your, you can’t help but squeal and scrabble around him to sink your nails into Kirishima’s shoulders for protection.

“Okay, I get it! You don’t have to come any closer, I can see fine from here.” Your voice comes out too high and strained to be deemed as joking, but nonetheless everyone laughs at your dramatic show.

Everyone but Katsuki. Because he can see you’re actually scared, he’s seen it a hundred times on civilians who try to pretend they’re fine but still have that panicked glint in their eye.

“Jesus Y/N, with a reaction like that maybe he really is a villain. Bakubro, want us to send you back to Shigaraki’s place? Maybe you should reconsider his offer.”

And finally at Denki’s quip everyone including you this time laughs again in playful agreement, but yet again Bakugo’s blood starts simmering further.

Why the fuck were you being so obnoxious? He didn’t do anything to you before, right? So why the hell were you embarrassing him in front of all his friends and making him out to be this bloodthirsty monster?

Well, whatever. If a monster is what you want, then a monster is what you’ll get.

And so he waits for you after school, trailing behind you a couple hundred feet yet still keeping you in sight. He curses when you giggle with your friends, no doubt in his mind that you’re still throwing dirt on his name and he swears under his breath when you talk to Deku and his dweeb friends.

Of course when you hang around ditzy dorks like Deku he’s gonna look like a psycho in comparison.

But at one point you’re by the vending machine alone in a deserted hallway, fumbling with your coins and trying to quickly get a soda before your friends up ahead leave.

Too bad for you, because when he’s done with you they’ll never want to be seen with you again for their own safety.

You’re shoving money in the slot when he silently walks up a couple feet behind you.

“No friends around to gossip about me?”

You shriek and jump a good foot in the air at the sudden voice behind you. Clutching your heaving chest, you whirl around to see who it is.

Your blood runs cold. It’s Katsuki Bakugo, the absolute last person you want to be alone with in a deserted hallway.

Your feet move a step back.

Wrong move.

His nostrils flare and his eyes widen at your insulting retreat. You know he doesn’t take kindly to it, but with an expression like that how could you not?

“Uh, w-what do you mean?” You chuckle nervously.

He doesn’t laugh. In fact, he does something worse.

He matches your steps and moves forward a little bit.

At this you fully take a stride backwards and clash with the vending machine behind you.

He keeps advancing, slowly getting closer and checking you out, his head tilted as his eyes roam up and down your vulnerable body.

“Don’t move back. Why the fuck did you move away from me? That’s rude, we were just having a normal conversation.”

You surprise yourself by sounding level-headed in retaliation. “‘Kinda hard not to be a little uncomfortable when your conversation sounds so accusing.”

He lunges forward and you actually scream this time, throwing your hands up above your head in instinct to protect yourself from his proximity.

Bakugo doesn’t touch you but you can still feel his breath puffing on your head, can still feel the heat from his hands on either side of your body.

“You got a smart mouth don’t you? Is that why you embarrassed me earlier in front of everyone?”

“Embarrassed you-?” You squeak but immediately cut off when he thrusts his face right in front of yours, a manic look on his face as all his facial features stretch into a irate leer.

“I guess we’ll have to fix that tongue of yours. Put it to better use than to talk shit about me, right?”

Vermilion irises move from your face down your body, lingering on your chest and at the apex in between your legs.

Bile rises to your throat as he licks his lips and lets his lips ghost over yours, oh so close yet not touching.

And in the second before he descends, you shove him off with nothing but pure adrenaline feeling your fear and race past him, blindly running down the halls as fast as you can.

Surprisingly, you don’t hear anyone behind you. That doesn’t mean you don’t stop running though.

The real reason you don’t hear anyone behind you is because Katsuki Bakugo has an eerie smile on his face at your bolt. He languidly stretches his arms above his head and relishes in the popping of his joints, and in succession the popping of sparks in his hand. He kicks one leg out, then the other just to ensure you get a fair head start.

You’ve just made this so much more interesting.

He sets off at a light jog, and even in his carefree pace his strides are enough to eventually catch up with you, instinct like an animal’s guiding him through the winding halls and ending up catching a glimpse of your feet as you turn into another lane.

You’re panting, sweat pouring down your eyes as panic makes it hard to breathe or think rationally. The adrenaline that was pushing you is now dying down but at the worst time.

You take a quick glance back and your rapidly beating heart falters as you see him with a grin on his face as he practically jogs leisurely behind you. You’ve seen this same face on him when he’s in the battlefield, blasting through enemy hearts and blowing up heads as if they were fireworks.

He’s bloodthirsty. He wants you.

“Running away again? That’s not very heroic of you babe,” he calls out, and it’s terrifyingly infuriating how he’s not out of breath.

“Leave me the fuck alone,” you half scream and sob, trying to run faster but failing miserably.

You see a bathroom sign out of the corner of your eye and frantically stumble towards it.

Katsuki knows you know he’s even you take a turn and he laughs to himself at how boringly easy this is.

Maybe he was scary.

He shakes it off and continues his hunt after you, coming forth until he faces the bathroom door in which you were cowering behind.

There’s a small window, and no other door. Just a couple of stalls, a terrified girl, and a psycho with the taste of revenge practically palpable on his lustful tongue.

He knock with faux politeness. “You wanna come out and do this the easy way or you want me to barge in and take you myself?”

You sob and wheeze in response, desperately pushing against the flimsy door in a pathetic attempt to keep him out. Bakugo merely crosses his arms and leans against the door, staring intently at it with a smile still on his face.

Judging by the weight pushing more at the bottom of the door, he can tell you’re probably sitting down in an effort to catch your breath.

You both know he can come in at any time he so well pleases, but he decides he’ll play by your rules for a bit longer, indulge you a little before your inevitable downfall.

He hums loudly and slides down to join your parallel position on the floor.

“I’m tryina be nice here, y’know. You acted so scared of me when I never even bothered you before. Aren’t I being nice right now by letting you choose for yourself?”

He sounds so conversational, as if he were talking to one of his buddies. You stay silent but your silence speaks volumes.

It serves as nothing but a means to piss him off further.

The two of you sit in silence for seemingly hours, even though it’s only around 20 minutes. Every second you feel like he’s going to break down the door any second and blast your face off, but miraculously he doesn’t.

You don’t know what you’d rather prefer: for him to prolong your strained agony by letting you be so close yet so far from him, or to end your suffering and get it done with.

But you needn’t sit in silence stewing in your own fear any further, for at the exact moment you begin to doze off with the dying of the light the weight on the other side of the door lifts and you startle awake at the scuffling on the other side.

You blink a couple of times and blanch when you see through the window the purple light indicating that you really have been here longer than you thought.

Bakugo cracks his knuckles and rolls his head, popping a few more kinks in his neck before breathing out and bracing for impact.

“Ready or not little bitch, here I come.”

“Bakugo, wait-!”

But your plea doesn’t last for more than two words. The door bangs open with such a sound that you actually think he’s blasted it straight off his hinges. You gasp and shield yourself, jumping backwards and covering your face.

“‘Thought I made it clear by now that you can’t run. So why’d you try to leave? Huh? Think you’re smarter than me? You think you’re stronger than me?”

He’s stalking forward again, and you’re left tripping back over your feet and whimpering at his salacious intent as he backs you up and corners you into a stall.

He already knows the answers to his rhetorical questions but he wants to hear you say it. He wants to hear that scornful conviction in your voice about how big and bad he was that you used earlier.

With you tripping backwards into the cramped stall, his approach quickens in hunger at feeling you, feeling the fear radiating off your body.

Bakugo presses up against you against the wall and takes up the space around you, invading your personal bubble. He’s everywhere, growling in your ear, hands gripping your waist so tight you’re sure bruises sprout from his touch, his erect penis grinding on the inside of your thigh.

Your trepidation and terror rises to an insurmountable height as he smothers you.

When he suddenly grips your chin and forces your head to face him you gasp. His touch is even more callous than you thought.

“You lookin’ here bitch? Good.”

His palm is raised towards you and before you can even widen your eyes in realization his appendage starts sparking madly. You shriek and try to throw him loose as little bits of embers fly out and made your face, his voice rough as always yet dangerously low and soft.

“S’not so scary after all is it? You’re reacting better to it than I thought.” Bakugo Blanca you mocks your writhing figure as you desperately try to evade the mini explosions.

“Okay, I get it, please stop I don’t like it!” You shrilly cry out but his hand moves from your jaw down to your neck, and squeezes the last remnants of opposition out of you.

“Yeah? Good, I’m glad you get it. But honestly, I don’t care if you don’t like it.

Because I like it. I fucking love this quirk, ‘specially when you cower so prettily under it like you did earlier.”

You choke and try to scrabble at his hands but it’s like a butterfly’s touch to him, barely producing any fruition.

“I kept wondering to myself: why do I care if she’s scared of it? And then I realized,” he leans in and lets his lips brush over your ear, lets his hand lessen ever so slightly so that your main focus is his words.

“You just looked good enough to eat when you know you’re beneath me. When you know how dangerous I am.”

He pulls back and assesses the look on your face. “Makes you look good enough to eat.”

And without further ado he lowers his hand and starts rubbing his alit palm on your clothed pussy, his erection getting harder as your screams wilt into whines.

Your legs flail uselessly as he burns a hole through your pants and his fingers hook aside the band of your panties.

Bakugo thrusts his hips forwards and grinds his straining cock on your moist lips, taking in your blubbers and teary eyes.

You can’t even speak, you can only cry out like a child as he thrusts harder and harder, so hard that your back hits the wall painful and the stall walls rattle behind you.

“You-pant-fucking scared-pant-now slut?” He rasps, his head bobbing on rhythm with yours as he practically lifts you off your toes to match his pace.

Your clit is caught between the fabric and rolled cruelly pleasurable as his tip leaks precum, staining your own panties in the process.

With your attention rapt on his now-uncovered dick sliding in and out of your folds, he takes this opportunity to take his other hand off your neck and blast the wall next to your face.

The second you open your mouth in shock as bits of tile rain down on your face he slams his steaming palm over your lips, burning the soft flesh as you weep openly.

He sets off two more near your sides and another above your head, his own face aligned right in front of yours so you can see the mean smile on his face all the while he sets your heart racing at an alarming speed.

When the smoke clears and you can start feeling glass and tile imprint on your once-smooth face, he positions his dick up so that it prods at your hole and yanks your hair back.

His eyes practically glow with the mini fires preserved in the walls with his blasts, the impact of the air rushing around him makes his hair even spikier, his body is taunt and even more imposing than before.

His teeth gleam with the orange and red light next to you. His chest doesn’t heave, because he’s at ease with your terror.

“You think you know fear?”

With one swift movement he shoves up into you, but this time he doesn’t cover your mouth.

“You haven’t met me truly yet.”

[kaaragen]

As an example: the Mortis gods statue reveal.

Now in the writer's room, or whatever passed for it, I'm sure everyone was saying things like 'this will be so cool!' 'We pan back, we see it, the audience will go nuts!'

Except, the only people who will recognise it are those who watched The Clone Wars and Rebels. The casual audience will be lost. And it has other impacts as well, namely Baylan speaking in vague murmurs about 'powers' and 'things calling to him'.

It would have worked so much better if, when Baylan and Shin are trotting after Sabine, he instead tells Shin the story of the Mortis gods. Doesn't have to be anything grand, just something like:

'There was a fairy tale, that goes with this place. They say that, long ago, there were three Gods. Avatars of the Force. And one day, at the height of their power and arrogance, the Kingdom of the Witches sought their power for their own. Through that, they brought their own destruction. In the Temple, we were taught it as a cautionary tale. But Peridia is real. So perhaps that power is too.'

Bang. Baylan's motivation is laid out, with some deepening of his character; the concept of the Mortis Gods has been introduced; and a great big warning sign has been flashed. The causal audience can infer that the statues refer to the Gods, and the power is what Baylan is looking for; the Clone Wars and Rebels crowd knows its the Mortis Gods and get excited seeing the confirmation through the statues; and if you really want to add an extra layer of fuckery you can stick in a fourth statue, so the Legends crowd who grimly stuck it through Fate of the Jedi can scream (in excitement/horror delete as appropriate)

I think that what Star Wars really needs right now is to have someone on the production team whose familiarity with the franchise can be summarized as 'has watched the movies a couple of times'. And their one job is to read scripts and write comments like 'who is this?' 'why is this important?' 'why should I care?' 'If this is a BAD thing you need to SHOW ME WHY'

[icedmochasi]

i was on youtube and came across the clip of hunter’s ‘research notes on flapjack’ and remembered that he comments that when he asked eber darius and raine about flapjacks, he says eberwolf hissed/growled at him ‘as per usual,’ then that darius ignored him, ‘again, as per usual,’ and i’m thinking about how like. if darius came across it post dou it might be the thing that pushes him over the line of not addressing his emotions.

Yeah, how Darius and Eberwolf treated Hunter pre ASiAS are not their shining moments, for sure. I don't think they were ever actively mean to Hunter before Darius lashed out at the beginning of ASiAS, but still. There are several explanations for their behavior: Hunter is too loyal so they can't trust him, Hunter doesn't think for himself, he might ruin everything if he finds out, they don't want to fight this teenager if he gets in their way so they need to keep their distance. Maybe they are frustrated because they don't know how to save this kid from himself when he's so loyal. Maybe they both knew Hunter's predecessor and resented this kid being in the Golden Guard spot. Who knows, really.

Either way, it doesn't excuse their behavior. It's only an explanation. (And, really, Raine knew something was up and looked the other way. Eda was there when Amity restrained Hunter and let it happen. Hunter has beefed with everyone in his current found family at this point, but Darius and Eberwolf aren't the only ones who treated Hunter differently for that devotion to Belos, that's for sure)

Darius probably told Eberwolf everything that happened at the end ASiAS and that probably caused Eberwolf to soften towards Hunter, as well.

The moment Darius saw signs that Hunter can think for himself, he instantly softened towards Hunter, so I think Eberwolf would too.

It's heavily implied Darius and Hunter spent time together post-ASiAS with the sowing, at least. So Eberwolf was probably there at times as well.

Then, Hollow Mind, it's aftermath, and the incident at Hexside changes EVERYTHING.

I don't think Hexside reached out to The CATTs, I think The CATTs reached out to Hexside when they heard about happened.

Oh, how the tides turned.

Whatever time these three spent together after Darius and Hunter worked things out probably deepened their bond immensely. Again, since Eberwolf and Darius are kind of a package deal, Eberwolf was probably there at times too.

Eberwolf was probably in on the plan to keep Hunter away from the Titan's head, since Raine's students knew about it.

This is why I love the dynamic canon is building slowly but surely between Darius and Hunter. The idea of those two plus Eberwolf getting to see each other for who they are really are, and gradually becoming found family because of it? Letting go of the ideals the Emperor's coven taught them, and realizing how well they click? Chef's kiss.

But, I can totally see Darius and Eberwolf finding that journal one day after Hunter vanishes and they can't find him. And just breaking down because how could they have ever treated him that way? They are not the same people as the ones he described in his research notes, but it is something they did. If they haven't apologized to Hunter yet, then they will.

Which is why I hope we get to see Darius's reaction to the Grimwalker reveal, at least. (Well, if he doesn't already know, I think it is a 50-50 possibility at least). But, I think their reactions to it, when they first find out, are going to be: Horror. Disgust. RAGE. Kill mode towards Belos, activated.

So, yeah, this is just me, reading between the lines of what we have been told/seen, and also kinda adding some of my headcanons too it.

(Disclaimer, please don't come onto this post and start discussing how Eberwolf and Darius are horrible, or anything, that's not what I am here for. Thanks!)

[bmodiwrites]

Hi! I'm love your blog I go through all the time and read what I missed.

Can I request a steve/eddie where they are lying in bed together and Eddie is upset that Hawkins hates him or is afraid of him and Steve has to console him.

Sorry I didn't give a ton of info but I love your writing and want to see what you make out of this : )

That's honestly such a cool thing to hear - thank you! I'll try to keep an updated masterlist so you don't have to search too hard <3

I love this idea & I'm glad you left it bare bones. I'm excited to make something out of your idea! Here we go -

The implosion is coming, Steve's been waiting for it all night.

He recalls it starting the moment Eddie knocks on his door. They usually spend Friday's at the movies, watching whatever new picture came out that day. Eddie's always filled to the brim with excitement that the swift change is noticeable. Steve works hard to stop himself from blurting out something stupid. The last thing he wants to do is deepen the line between Eddie's eyebrows. Instead of his chipper boyfriend, who's always in Steve's arms by now, Steve's met with the shell of Eddie Munson. So, he rolls with it.

Steve doesn't need to ask what's wrong - it's always the same thing. Despite the law and a multitude of people telling the folks of Hawkins that Eddie is innocent and always will be, Steve's come to find that some people never know when enough is enough. There are plenty of people in town who still want to see Eddie pay for something he's physically incapable of doing, never mind the fact he's been proven not responsible a couple of times over. Steve tries not to think about the other words that are thrown Eddie's way - his heart sinks every time he hears the word freak, every time he sees Eddie's face crumple.

The signs are recognizable now, so Steve draws back on his immediate need to smother Eddie and plays it cool. He says nothing, instead. His lips quirk into a soft smile that the mopey boy does his best to reciprocate. It's not really the cheeky grin Steve's come to know but he takes it as a win, anyway. If whatever happened is as bad as he thinks it is, Steve's lucky that Eddie's actually out of bed, still willing to go out with him. That's true love and Steve knows it.

Eddie does his best to exist through the horror flick of the week, though his eyes are trained on anything but the movie. Steve subtly grabs his hand halfway through the mindless story in hopes of keeping Eddie grounded. He's not all that sure if it works or not, though Steve enjoys it all the same. Nothing beats getting to play with Eddie's long fingers. Eddie doesn't pull away, so Steve lets that be another W in the night's stats. It's a relief, however, to finally get out of the theater and away from the public eye. The mask Eddie's worn all night is crumbling to pieces. They skip dinner in favor of driving back to the trailer.

After almost six months of dating, Steve is comfortable enough in Eddie's space to walk into the kitchen without asking. He's a caring boyfriend that understands Eddie's disconnect but hunger is a real thing and macaroni and cheese is calling his name. There's a second of hesitation on Eddie's part before he follows Steve into the kitchen - he watches unblinkingly as Steve goes through the process of boiling water and throwing together ingredients when the noodles are done. Eddie almost smiles when Steve adds his secret ingredient. The slices of American cheese are always a hit.

Eating is done silently, though neither of them care. There's been many a night where quiet and the other's presence is exactly what's needed. Steve's come to enjoy the serenity of simply being with another person. There's an odd sort of comfort that wraps around them as they feast upon Steve's offering. There's nothing left in the pan by the time Steve puts his fork in the empty bowl.

It's easy to fall into the routine of Steve washing while Eddie dries. Though they still don't speak, Eddie bumps his shoulder into Steve's side every time a dish changes hand. Eddie's not okay, far from it, but there's a little bit of life starting to form in the depths of his eyes.

The pressure pushing against the dam of the older boy's control is breaking, Steve's been preparing for this moment all night.

They're in bed when Eddie eventually strips away the pretense and starts talking. "It happened again," Eddie says as he curls himself into Steve's side. Without hesitation, Steve pulls him in close, keeps his grip on Eddie tight. He doesn't say anything, nows not the time. There's only a second of pause before Eddie continues on, anyway. "Everyone just hates me so much."

Steve's in tears by the time that Eddie's done telling his story - despite minding his own business, a concerned citizen thought it prudent to scold Eddie out of the grocery store, flinging the word freak and abomination at him left and right. Eddie doesn't make it more than a few sentences before his words are choked out of a tight throat, increasing the impact of the story tenfold. All the while, Steve lies there, listening to every word as he clings to Eddie, giving him an anchor in the storm.

When he's done, Steve rolls them over until he's on top of Eddie, keeping him tethered to a here and now where he's loved and cared for without judgement. That truth is in Steve's eyes, clear for all to see, but he says it too, knowing Eddie needs to hear it. "You're not the bad person in that situation, baby," Steve says. He leans in to kiss a couple of tears off Eddie's cheeks, kisses his lips, then continues. "They're the real monsters, accosting you in public, making a fool out of themselves to curb their own fears."

He pulls away just enough to meet Eddie's eye. "I love you, Eds. To me and the people that care about you, you're perfect exactly as you are. Your personality, your look, your bravery - none of those assholes can hold a candle to you." Steve's earnest in the way he speaks, genuine in the fact that he believes every single word his lips form. They've been here before but Steve's never been so forth coming. He's learning himself and how to navigate everything that still happens just like Eddie. Luckily, his job is easy - Steve's been obsessed with Eddie long enough to have a lot of praise just waiting on the tip of his tongue.

There's a few more babbled words before Eddie's covering Steve's mouth with his hand. As his words are cut off, Steve takes in the change in Eddie's expression, the lessening of tension around his eyes. He's not fully back yet but Steve's glad to be there to see Eddie take the small steps, to be a cause of them. The smile that slips across Steve's lips is fond, softening the atmosphere around them. It's enough, at least, for Eddie to lean up and lingeringly kiss Steve. Air and the need to draw it in is the only reason they pull away.

Eddie doesn't go far, though. He lingers in Steve's space, sharing his air, tracing his cheeks with guitar roughened fingers. "I love you too, you know," Eddie whispers. They're close enough that even that pitch is a little loud. "You believing in me - that's what gets me through." The words are raw, scraping at Steve's skin like sandpaper. His heart aches - though Eddie's words are beautiful, the need for their existence at all is a little crushing. Still, he's happy to be that for Eddie, will always stand by and provide him that, even.

Rolling them over again, Steve works to clear his mind. What Eddie needs now is strong arms around him and a tender touch. His deep thoughts and contemplations were better suited to moments where Steve gave himself over to things and questions that were impossible to understand and answer. One day he'll puzzle it out, but for now, he's content to hold Eddie tight. As they whisper late into the night, Steve is at ease knowing that they've got each other. He's Eddies rock in the tide. Eddie makes Steve feel alive and gives him hope - for the future and a world where love, the true kind, actually does exist.

When Eddie settles down, Steve drops kisses into his hair. Though he's seconds away from following the boy into the sleepy unknown, Steve clings to him, keeping him close. While he can't stop the hurt from happening, Steve's confident in the fact that this, simply loving the boy in his arms, is the sort of healing he's prepared to provide for the rest of his life. Eddie's a good man and he deserves the things Steve wants to give him. It's a joy to know that there's lots of time to make the other boy see. Until then, he's going to enjoy every moment of trying.