#yet still supplying power to the house somehow?

[titus-androgynous-87]

I screamed so loud when I saw the wires STAPLED INTO THE ROOF JOIST that my neighbor walked across the street and knocked on my door to ask if I was ok

I’ve seen Some Shit in older homes, and homes where people think they can DIY plumbing and electrical work. But I’ve NEVER seen LIVE WIRES STAPLED TO A ROOF JOIST

[ominouspuff]

Kote’s House

Kote’s first house is a pathetic thing, and he is incurably proud of it. The twi’lek he purchased it from very evidently could not make up his mind what to do with a man that grinned while he haggled, but it was the first time Kote had haggled over a purchase of his very own. He had thoroughly enjoyed it.

The house is built for one being, and a compact being at that, but Kote doesn’t have much. Moving in is quick, and most of his efforts during the next few days after go into attempting ambitious repairs for things he doesn’t know the first thing about. 

His plumbing is an issue, he knows. Something is getting blocked up. Somehow while trying to fix the kitchen tumbler, his fresher spout explodes.

He hadn’t kept his new house a secret from anyone by any means, but it is still surprising when Fox barges in through his jamming front door. He finds Kote on the floor in his cramped kitchen while the fresher rains water in the adjacent room, laughing so hard and so crippled with delight that he can’t get up.

He tries to explain how wonderful it is —

“I-I have to fix my plumbing on my own, vod—”

—but judging by Fox’s single raised eyebrow he knows it doesn’t translate.

Fox, it turns out, is moving into the neighborhood. Kote doesn’t ask about the house Fox already has — the house he has visited, which is very nice and fancy — or point out that Fox’s contract there cannot possibly be up, which begs the question of why he’s here in Kote’s neighborhood — except that Kote already knows the answer to that question. So he doesn’t ask.

Fox doesn’t show him any grace or forbearance, though.

“Don’t even know how to fix a damn pipe, front lining show-off—” His brother snarls, but it is muffled; his top half had to go down beneath the floor they’d pried up to get at the plumbing issue.

“So that’s what they had you doing all these years.” Kote says, because he really is in a criminally good mood. He barely ducks the foot-long pipe Fox throws at his head, feeling giddy.

He makes dinner that night in thanks. Fox stays, ostensibly because now that he’s fixed the fresher he intends to use it, because his new house isn’t hooked up properly yet to all the supply lines and power grids. 

They choke on homemade tiingilar (vode-style; Kote can’t pretend at the real thing yet) so heavily spiced it’s got grit to it that sticks between the teeth. It’s disgusting, but Cody had bought fifteen different spices and while usually he likes to keep his approach to the unknown more cautious, more methodical, he couldn’t think of anything he wanted to do more than use them all at once for the first time. 

Wolffe joins them not long after; brings a few others along by recommending the apartment he picks out, so that soon most of the complex is taken up by vode, Kote hears, but he doesn’t visit yet. Everyone’s too busy coming over to his house, it seems; filling up his kitchen and asking why he hasn’t fixed the trash disposal yet, why he doesn’t have a couch, doesn’t he know they’re all the rage among civilized folk?

Kote fixes the trash disposal with Rex, who is better at it than he is but says it’s only due to Skywalker’s influence on managing all things mechanical. 

“How is Skywalker?” Kote asks, and gets more than he bargained for over the next hour. At first he’s a bit off-put, because he’s trying to get dinner sorted again and he’s not been very fond of Skywalker at the best of times, but Rex is snorting out a story and laughing and it’s contagious, so Kote just resigns himself and settles in to enjoy.

Skywalker has little ones, now. Obi-Wan is the only one that can get them to sleep. Ahsoka is distressed; she knows better, but every instinct in her is apparently in agony over the little ones’ inability to eat meat yet. She obsesses over nutrients in their diet — which, given what tiny natborn humans primarily ingest in the early stages, makes for some slightly awkward conversations.

Rex helps with dinner afterward, and they take turns being incredulous over natborn baby facts, shoving around one another in the tiny, uncomfortable kitchen.

“What’s your next project?” Rex asks at one point, glancing sidelong with a cheeky look, and Kote levels his vegetable knife at him (he’s got a vegetable knife. Specifically for vegetables. It’s a very new concept). 

“I make everyone’s dinner on Tuangsdays.” He says. “I’m productive.”

Rex’s sharp-toothed grin turns thoughtful. “Yeah” He says. “Everyone loves coming here, you know. You could be the new 79’s.”

Kote knows. He plans and plots, and puts more work into researching recipes than he’s put into any research whatsoever in months. It feels a bit like coming out of a shore leave; his thoughts quicken and his excitement grows. He hunts down a market. He brings a bag. He shops, bargains, and returns victorious.

He sends out a few comms., and can’t help but shake his head and grin at how different the responses are. 

What a marvelous idea, Cody. His general — ex-general — says.

Yus pls, Ahsoka sends back, with some sort of strange tooka vidclip that dances with wiggly gyrations Kote can only assume indicate excitement.

Where is your house, Anakin says, blunt and to the point, and Kote can appreciate that. 

He sends the address. He cooks all day. The sun sets, and Fox and Wolffe arrive, already bickering, Rex trailing behind with a long-suffering look sent to Kote, begging commiseration.

“Ugh, don’t you ever stop smiling, now?” He gripes when Kote just grins at him. 

“Nope,” Kote says, unrepentantly.

He leaves the soup on the stove, simmering, and takes his cup of caf to the window. He leans on it, breathing in cool air, and just listens — listens to the squabbling as Wolffe gets on Fox’s case for not washing Kote’s dishes correctly the last time they visited. Hears the soft thumps of Rex sneaking into the cramped room Kote has set aside for plants and the sole pet he has; a pastel goullian, fins swaying ever so gently, permanent scowl in place. Thinks he catches, distantly, the sound of his remaining three guests (Padme couldn’t attend, and had made him feel very awkward by how thoughtfully she apologized for it) plodding up the hill. 

“Cody!” Ahsoka cries, coming into view and waving. 

Kote’s cheeks have stopped aching from all the smiling he’s gotten used to, so it’s easy to let another through.

[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

I don't know if you can do it but if you can (want to), can you do child Atsushi and child Akutagawa in teyvat with teen reader.

Or they could be with normal Ages too!

If you were not alone

Part IX

Characters: Self-Aware! (Child!) Atsushi Nakajima, Self-Aware! (Child!) Akutagawa Ryunosuke

Reader: Teen! GN! Reader

Warning: OOC. English is my second language. Physical age regression (Atsushi and Akutagawa remain their memories, mental age and abilities, but physically were turned into children). Platonic hug.

________

🐯🧥 After you, Atsushi and Akutagawa woke up in Teyvat, you tried to find both good and bad in your situation. Bad № 1 - you were transported into Teyvat, without your phone and without any idea of how to go back. Good № 1 - Akutagawa and Atsushi were with you. Bad № 2 - They, somehow, become children. If the situation was better, you would tease them for being an older sibling now. Good № 2 - Their memories were intact. Bad № 3 - You were on Dragonspine in your normal clothes, that wasn't suitable for this mountain. Good № 3 - You ended up in Durin's cave, so, for now, you were warm.

After the analysis you came a to a conclusion - situation was a bad one, not a good one or neutral one. How are you supposed to get down from Dragonspine? The closest people to the cave were Fatui solders, and you don't want to go near them. And you weren't sure, if Albedo visited this place at all. Atsushi and Akutagawa offered to use their abilities to get down from the mountain. However, there were two problems. First - it was almost nighttime, and you don't want to wander around Dragonspine at night. Second - none of you were sure, that Beast beneath the moonlight and Rashomon still have the same power level.

You three decided to sleep in a cave and rethink the situation in the morning.

You fall asleep, listening to a Durin's heart beating.

🐯🧥 The dream you have was strange. Like... You could see everything, that was happening around the Dragonspine. Hilichurls, boars, Fatui, members of Adventure guild... You even saw Albedo in his lab. Yet, you couldn't move. You saw, feel all of them at the same time... Strange dream indeed.

'Durin could not move, but he has remains of his will. It was hard, but he left the message in Scarlet Quartz's pieces near the lab. He knew, who was sleeping near his heart. Creator...'

🐯🧥 You woke up because of Atsushi's and Akutagawa's angry shouts, the smell of burning firewood, toasts, fried onions and tomatoes. The moment you opened your eyes, you saw Albedo, together with Klee, were trying to calm Akutagawa and Atsushi, while trying to keep an eye on the fire. Albedo calmly tried to reason with your older(?) brothers.

"Please, we don't mean any harm. We just want to help."

Well, it seems, you got some luck on your plate.

🐯🧥 You jinxed it. Yes, you had breakfast, and Albedo brought warm clothes. But, the biggest threat was soaring above you three. Because, if Albedo wasn't lying, soon you will have a bounty on your head and an angry mob chasing after you. On your meek "But... what if I told the person on the throne, that I don't want to be in charge and only want to return home" Albedo responded with "The Cursed Brat won't listen. They won't change their mind."

You three were in danger. And you need to move fast. Chase after Alice. To get home.

Albedo couldn't help Atsushi and Akutagawa became adults again. But, he said, that they would either get to their original age soon enough, or Alice could help with that.

And, according to Albedo, she was on her way to Fontaine.

Albedo gave you supplies and helped you find a boat.

Your journey has begun.

🐯🧥 Almost near Fontaine borders, you three were captured by Fatui. You were brought to the House of Hearth. You three were separated. Atsushi and Akutagawa were with other kids. And you were kept in the basement. In a hidden dungeon.

🐯🧥Atsushi hated the House of Hearth. While it wasn't as bad as his previous orphanage, this place still felt rotten. Especially because of the other residents.

"Poor brothers, the Sinner had corrupted you. Don't worry anymore. Father will protect you." Lynette, as Atsushi learned her name later, couldn't finish the line. Akutagawa still can't use Rashomon, but, the knowledge about self-defense was still with him. And Atsushi knew, how to throw a punch without white tiger's help.

Two ten-year-old boys were throwing punch after punch, hitting Lynette.

"Don't you dare talk about [Y/N] like that! They are our sibling!" yelled Atsushi. Akutagawa growled, trying to bite Lynette's ear.

Both of them were restrained and locked in a storage room.

They could hear, how Lyney and Freminet, who locked them, were whispering about "poor kids. I hope, it's not too late."

When the voices disappeared, New Double Black tried to make up a plan.

Akutagawa whispered.

"Did you learn, where [Y/N] are, Man-tiger?"

Atsushi shook his head.

"No. You?"

Akutagawa shook his head in return.

"No. This damn place is too big."

And, Atsushi could bet on it, other kids were keeping an eye on him and Akutagawa. They can't search the orphanage freely. But they knew, that you were still here. Something tells them, that your... "Punishment for being an Imposter" won't be quiet and hidden.

🐯 They were talking the rest of the day. And no good effective ideas were proposed. Atsushi hated it. He hated to be small and powerless. He hated, that you were in danger. If only his ability was here...

Atsushi's eyes slowly focused on the small window. At the full moon.

The transformation was painful. But, the white tiger has returned.

🧥 Akutagawa didn't pay attention to Atsushi or moon. He was thinking about you. You were his little sibling. And he was your protector. And he can't fail his job. He just needs… Just need his power. Akutagawa almost shouted.

"Rashoumon: Tenma Tengai"

And black tendrils finally came to life.

And the black hellhound has returned.

🐯🧥 Huge feline were shuffling the air, like it was trying to find something... Or someone. Yes... His family were missing. Tiger cub were missing. Tiger saw, that dragon knight was here. He will help find tiger cub.

Akutagawa, in his Rashomon's armor, climbed on tiger's back. Rashoumon's tendrils ripped off the door.

Their search has begun.

🐯🧥 You were half glaring at Arlecchino. The Forth Harbinger has been visiting your cell every day. Trying to convince you to be reasonable. She won't let you and Shin Soukoku go. She saw a chance of having her own loyal Creator. And she won't lose her chance.

Her voice was calm.

"Be reasonable. I can protect you and two kids you were traveling with. All I need from you is to be an obedient godling, child."

You breathe in, but stayed quiet. You already begged Arlecchino to let you three go. She didn't. Maybe, if you tried again...

🐯 He could smell it. Faint scent of his tiger cub. He snarled, following it. His tiger cub was in danger. Dragon knight on his back destroyed doors, that were on their way.

They reached the basement. And white tiger finally found his tiger cub.

🐯🧥 The door behind Arlecchino fell apart. Before Harbinger could react, familiar black maw sank its fangs in her shoulder and threw her away. The door of your cage have no chance against white tiger and Rashomon.

Immediately, you were hugged by Akutagawa, and the huge feline rubbed his head against your torso, chuffing happily.

Happy tars flow down your eyes.

"Guys! You are here!"

Akutagawa, before answering, put you on tiger's back, sitting behind you.

"We would never abandon you."

White tiger waited, before you two sat on his back, and started to ran off.

You three left the House of Hearth behind.

🐯🧥 Tiger were running all night, until sunset. Then Atsushi transformed back. Then the tears and hugs came again. You three were finally safe, Atsushi and Akutagawa were adults again. Now you can focus on finding Alice.

🐯🧥 It took two more weeks, but you managed to do it. You found Alice. And you finally went home.

____________

🐾 Reunion was tearful. Your fathers, mothers, uncles, aunts and siblings were happy to see you. They were happy to see Atsushi and Akutagawa.

🐾 Your stay in Teyvat were scary. But, one thing you knew for sure. Doesn't matter, what age they were, your brothers Atsushi and Akutagawa will protect you.

_______

Tag list: @withered-blossoms , @myluckymoon @cocodrilofeliz @c4xcocoa @vvyeislazzy @whisperingwinters @nervousinfluencertidalwave @ayameshu

[wordsbymae]

WarTrophy! Reader x Warlord

With a post-apocalyptic twist. I was gonna do the usual medieval style thing for the warlord, but I got inspired by Mad Max: Thunder Dome (An amazing movie), to do post apocalyptic sorta thing. Any way hope you enjoy!

TW: Gn!reader, Verbal and somewhat physical SA, grubby and sleezy male characters. Reader is from a well looked after community, therefore when the Warlord and his raiders come to town, chaos erupts. Violence, murder, battle and raiding, reader given fem pet names but no gender described. In my mind this is canonically set in Australia, because I am Australian and also mad max is set in Australia and also post-apocalyptic fiction just makes sense when set in Australia. Also reader has nickname blue

They came in the night. No warning, no threat along the horizon. Just pure violence coming to reek havoc in the moonless night. You were awoken to the sounds of screaming, cries burning at your ears. Jumping to your feet you rushed to your window, over looking the community of survivors and refuges. Death was everywhere. The town was alight with flames, the warning siren howling over the sound of shrieks and bellows of fear. You stood in shock and incomprehension for a moment, the shacks, houses and huts were being ransacked by men dressed in camouflaged uniforms. Men and women who tried to defend their homes were being cut down where they stood, or dragged away by their hair. Children were left to fend for themselves, some crying amongst the flames, watching their parents being slaughtered. Loud banging broke you from the spell you were under, someone was trying to break down your door.

"Open up!" A man yelled, continuing to try to kick the scrap metal that made your door. It wouldn't take long, it was barely put together. A split second decision was made in your mind. You couldn't stay where you were, you couldn't even stop to make a plan, or grab anything of use. You had to run, and quickly. Still in your sleepwear, you raced through your house, opening your back down with a grunt, just as your front door was slammed open. You rushed into the back alley, stunned by the destruction laid waste upon your town. You turned your back on your friends, family, community and rushed into the darkness of the buildings, leaving your town to burn.

This town was never truly meant to be a town. Before the Collapse it had been a nothing more than a water treatment plant. In the days and weeks after the collapse, people began flocking to its promise of water. Somehow ever after the loss of electricity, the plant still held thousands of litres of water, making it a refuge for all those who survived the end of the world.

You had been one of the very first to arrive, you had been fortunate to arrive with your parents and a few members of your extended family. You and your family practically built this town, saved this community. There was a reason why people knew who you were, why they moved out of the way as you walked past. It was your family this town was named after, your blood that raised it from ash.

And yet here you were, hiding in the shadows. Running for your life. Granted, there wasn't much you could do. The town lived in peace for so long that only the town militia were tasked with defence. Over the years, bullets, and gunpowder, became in short supply, leaving the hunks of metal once called guns useless. Most were melted down to make melee weapons, are fashioned into more primitive form of muskets. In many ways your town turned back into the past to strive for a better future. Most things were run on steam or water powered. Limited supply of gunpowder was made using items traded with other surviving communities. People turned back to the ways of their fore parents, hunting and farming. Life was good. Until it wasn't.

You came to a sudden halt, quickly hiding behind wooden boxes against the wall. The masked, camouflaged men ran past, yelling orders to one another. You grimaced as you saw a selective few were armed with guns. Pre-collapse guns. Either they were just for show, or someone very smart and determined figured out how to make them work in a time such as these. Most, however, had musket-like weapons and machetes and knives. At least you knew if it came down to it, there was a chance that you just had to be quicker than your assailant rather than having to dodge a bullet to survive.

After they run past, you quickened towards the wooden wall that encircled your town. In some places it was reinforced with steel and rock, but it would take decades to finally make a proper defensive structure. As the child of the founding family, you knew exactly what you were looking for. Once, when the wall was still being erected, and nothing but a metal fence separated you and the raiders of the new world, you had found a hole in the fence. Big enough that you and your childhood friend had been able to sneak out of town into the great unknown. Even when they began to reinforce it with wood and steel, you made sure the hole was still uncoverable.

You landed on your knees in front of where you remembered the hole to be. Footsteps were hurrying towards you. Raiders, friends or terrified civilians, you did not know. You focused purely on pushing the scrap of metal from covering the hole, leaning down, you pushed with all your might the large rock you had shimmed into place last time you had snuck out. It had been years since you had down so, it was just before Red had left, there was no need to sneak out anymore if he wasn't there to follow. You crawled through the hole, end in sight. The hole feeling much smaller than it did as a child. You knew your family would make it out. They would have to, right? So would friends and comrades. They were smart. Like you. They knew when to abandon ship.

If there had been a warning then of course you would have stayed, till the very end. Your task for the community was Peacemaker, a diplomate of this new crazed world. You were quite good at it too. Negotiation and diplomacy your strongest skills. If they had given warning, maybe you could reason with them, maybe no one had to have died. But raiders that come in the dark of night, killing all they willed , were not the sort of combatant you stayed around to reason with. Your task was to live, to survive, then to come back and rebuild. Always rebuild, as your parents had done all those years ago.

The metal of the broken fence dug into your hips, bringing forth a hiss of pain from your lips. You pushed through the pain, cursing as the metal dug deeper and deeper. With one last gasp, you heaved your hips through the fence, feeling the metal rip at the fabric of your clothes. Just as you were about to get up, run straight for the safety of the wilderness, a harsh grip landed on your ankle. Before even a thought could pass through your mind. You were dragged back, with force, through the hole. You screamed and kicked. Hands digging into the ground, fingers and nails desperately trying to find a hold in the soft dirt. You were flipped over. A man leering down at you.

"Ain't you a pretty thing, aye?" he sneered, his mouth opening in a wicked smile, showcasing missing and yellowed teeth. You scrunched your face in disgust, both at the sight in front of you and his hand gripping tighter onto your ankle. You were about to use your free leg to give him a swift kick, but the sight of a large hunting knife in his hand made you pause. He followed your gaze to it.

"Aw don't worry love, I'm not gonna use this thing on you, long as ya don't make a fuss." His smile grew, showcasing more blacked and cracked teeth. His face was a red blotchy colour, sweat dripped from his forehead, his weak chin wobbled as he spoke. In the fire light you could see the red veins of his eyes.

You tested his grip on you, trying to catch him unaware. Instead it backfired, resulting in him sitting on top of you, letting your ankle go.

"You be good for me sweets and I'll try to be as gentle as I can yeah?" he chuckled, your blood running cold. This man wanted something from you and there was no reason in the world that would stop him. You cannot reason with an evil man. You began to shriek, preferring him to killing you now than to suffer the injustice of his touch.

"Nobodies coming to save ya darl', Best ya get used to being on your back for me, it's gonna be real familiar by the time I get tired of you. Make me cum enough and I might just keep you" he leaned down against you, tongue licking up along your cheek. You began to trash harder, screaming. Begging. Praying. For anything, for anyone to came save you. He laughed at your misery, lifting him self back up to undo his belt.

"You ready for me to make you my whor-" a gargle where words should follow. You watched in shock as a knife was plunged in the back of his skull. Blood splattered down on you, your mouth open wide in fear and relief. You scrambled back as the evil man fell forward. You backed up against the wall, you could feel the wind blowing through the hole, your escape route still open. You started to make a mad dash for the opening, not thinking or even able to process what had happened, only focusing on what might have happened, what that man was intent on doing.

In a sick sense of Deja vu, you were once ripped from the opening. You were a bundle of feet and hands punching and kicking in all directions, your voice was hoarse from screaming bloody murder. A strong set of arms pulled you against them, and you fought like hell to be free.

"It's alright blue, its alright" came a familiar and calming voice. Only one person called you that in favour of your real name. You opened your eyes, there he was. Alive, breathing and surrounded by masked, camouflaged men.

"Red?" you whispered, not daring to shatter this illusion that he was still alive, that he had found his way back to you. You must be going mad. That evil man must have killed you, or you died in the smoke and flames burning your town. You blinked, pinched yourself. Even reached a hand to touch his face.

"It's me blue" he smiled, a perfect, lovely smile. Just as you remembered.

The men behind him shifted, causing you to panic, you grabbed red's hand and tried to run. You weren't gonna lose him again.

Instead of running into the fray once more, you were pulled back to red's arms.

"Red! We have to go! They'll kill us, please!" You begged, eyes looking into his warm brown ones. He places his hands on your arms, essentially trapping you were you stood.

"Red?" you questioned, why wasn't he worried, why weren't the men descending on you both with knifes raised. What was going on?

The fires had begun to die down, the screaming and crying was replaced with whispers of fear and a few sobs cried into the night. The warning siren slowed down to a halt.

"Red?" you whispered, not a question but a plea.

'Please still be the boy I knew before'

He looked down into your eyes, a sigh making its way pasted his lips.

He turns to his men.

"Bring all the prisoners to the town centre, no one is to harm the survivors unless I deem so. That includes coercing or forcing yourselves onto anyone. Understand?" he orders. His men giving a quick nod and salute before turning into the dying lights of the fire.

"No" you exclaim.

No, no, no, no, no

You shake your head, tears threatening to fall.

"You are one of them?" you gasp. The boy you knew as a child, the boy you had come to love, the boy who disappeared into the night, on a night eerily similar to this, returned as a raider, a killer, a monster.

A gives you a slight smirk, hands gripping you tighter.

"I'm not just one of them blue, I command them, I rule them" he boasts. A wicked gleam in his eyes.

"Traitor" you hiss. "You fucking monster! You absolute fucking bastard!"

Your anger overwhelmed whatever love you still had for him. Curled fists began attacking him, aiming for the face, when that wasn't enough to quell your fury, you tried scratching out his eyes. A pain seared across your face, you became unbalanced and fell on the very man who had threatened you a mere minute ago. Red had slapped you, caused you pain. One might argue you deserved it, lashing out like that. Most would say that's fucking irrelevant since he caused the destruction and violent occupation of your town.

"C'mon blue, you really gonna act out? I was being so nice too. Saved you from this fucker didn't I? Could've just let him have you" he pouted, head tilting to watch you try standing back up, giving the man's body a small kick while doing so. You balked at the sight of the evil man, his eyes still unnerving, even more so that he is dead, the movement of Red's kick, gave you the sick impression he was still alive.

A dangerous idea spread into your mind. The hunting knife lay unclaimed next to you. Red was unarmed as far as you could tell. You clasped the knife in a hurry, but before being able to take a slash or even stand up, Red's boot came crushing down onto your wrist. You squealed in pain, releasing the knife in a instant. His free boot kicked the knife away.

"Is that anyway to welcome home an old mate?" he tsked, "I know its been a few years, but come on blue, really? This? Trying to take me out with a knife?"

"What the fuck Red" you gasped, boot still crushing your wrist. "What the hell is going on, raiding? Seriously? this town was your home! How could you turn on us like that. How-how could you turn on me?" Pain, both physical and emotional rushed through your voice, once more tears began to spring, from the pain or the torment of knowing that your best friend was responsible for the death of dozens in your community.

"C'mon Blue! It ain't personal. Just the business of surviving. You think it brings me joy to burn this place to the ground? I mean to be honest it kinda does, but you know that story. But we don't have time to talk about that, right now you and I have a speech to get to." he grins, dark and cold. No way this is the curly haired kid you knew as a child. Red back then could barely kick a toad than massacre innocent civilians.

You let out a sigh of relief as he removes his boot. Only to let out a yelp in surprise as you are thrown over his shoulder.

"Let me go!" you cry, wiggling and worming in his hold.

"Not yet love! Got places to see and people to humiliate" his deranged laugh filled the silent streets you called home.

Before you only were able to see the destruction from a window still, or when you were at the edges of the fight. But now, now you saw everything. You watched in sorrow as you passed the bakery, still blazing alone, as the houses and shakes next to it had been pulled down. The school had been ransacked, pages and books lining the street in silent array. Childs' drawings danced lifelessly across the ground in the breeze.

Without even seeing where he was taking you, you knew where you were going. The town centre. A magnificent fig tree, alone in its splendour made for quite the impressive centre piece of the town. Speeches, weddings, announcements, birthdays and funerals were all held under its comforting branches. It calmed you to still see it still standing. Leaves fell with a hush down from its branches, as if it was crying watching the town that loved it go up in smoke.

You could hear your townspeople's whispers of fear and confusion as the watched you be carried into line of sight. You could see most of the towns population was still alive. The small group of men who were spared were pushed to one side, guarded heavily, despite being made up of elders, young boys, and a few injured men. The cluster of women and children were larger. You could see your friends and family in both groups. All accounted for, thank goodness. You were placed onto the ground and given to two guards, both quickly clasping onto your arms like their lives depended on it. You were off to the side, as Red sauntered his way to front and centre. He always loved being the centre of attention.

"Good people! How's it going?" he exclaimed, arms open wide and a smile gracing his lips. You could see confusion, vague recognition and just plain hatred line people's faces. More importantly you saw your parents both looking at you in absolute despair. You gave them a short smile and a nod, taking a deep breath when they followed suit.

Red began to speak again.

"Some of you may remember me, other's may not. I was one of you once, another member of this pathetic, weak society. You have no strength, despite your numbers. No courage or skill in warfare. Just a load of farmers, tradesmen and women. If this was any other town I would slaughter you all" he grins as if he is discussing a lovely day spent at the beach. Whispers become murmurs. Murmurs become barely contained talks of a massacre, of your towns soon extinction. You began to take shallower, faster breaths.

"Alright, calm down everyone. Maybe we need to work on our listening skills, aye? Now, let's put on our listening caps everyone. I said if you were any other town. Lucky for you bastards I actually like you guys! I had a good run here. Made some lovely mates" a pointed look thrown in your direction. "And was pretty well looked after, well until, you know. So in honour of the good times I had here. I have a compromise for you all." He clasps his hands together, and teeters back and froth from his toes to his heels.

"My men and I have already killed a whole bunch of ya, so how bout we move on from that, aye? You guys are gonna have to boost your numbers after my little stunt, and who better than the very people who massacred your friends and family!" looks of bitter disgust flow across the crowd.

"Yikes, bit of a tough crowd yeah. Alright look, the fellas and I used to have a pretty good place. But the waters run dry and also we're getting up in years, and so we're looking for a place to settle down. To have people to settle down with. So yeah we killed a whole bunch of your men, but hey! We're here to replace that gap. Maybe even help you guys with the whole defence side of things. I mean were those soldier fellas of yours even trained? They were easier to kill than a dead roo!" he barks out a laugh, his men following suit.

'What the fuck is wrong with him' you thought. Clearly years in the bush led to insanity.

"Oh! Before I forget" he stares in your direction, slowly making his way over. You squirm under his gaze uncomfortably. "If you little shits try any sort of rebellion or some shit like that. I'll slit their pretty little throat."

In a moment he brings a knife close to your throat. You reach your chin up, desperate to remove the icy sensation away from you. You look at where his eyes are directed, straight towards your mother, then slowly transferred to your father. Without their approval, any hope of rebellion or uprising is dashed. You are the perfect hostage.

"Great! Glad we could have this chat. So go have a good ole' sleep. Got a whole day of cleaning up to do tomorrow!" he beams, pulling the knife away just as quickly as he produced it. He turns his back on the towns people, grabbing your arm from one of the guards. You are dragged past the fig tree towards the council hall, located within the old water treatment plant. It is then you see how truly outnumbered you were. Nearly over a hundred men, all masked and camouflaged, line the water treatment plant, even with the men who were killed, there was no way your town could have fought them off.

You pulled back from Red, trying to get him to release his grasp.

"What is it blue? Thought you'd be happier to see your childhood mate"

"Fuck you, you dog" you spit, anger clear as day.

Red halts, and turns to you.

"Don't make me hurt you again."

It wasn't what he said, more so than how he said it. He's eyes lost their humanity, his features fell into sudden darkness, the hairs on the back of your neck stood up. You were looking into the eyes of an evil man.

You gave a quick nod, hoping he would lose interest.

"Good!" he cheers, and goes back into dragging you up the steps to the plant.

"Ya know I've never had a war trophy before" he mumbles

"Pardon?" confusion across your face turning into disgust

"You, your a war trophy." he deadpans as if its the simplest thing in the world to understand.

"I'm not a trophy" you grumble

"Cause you are, pretty enough, and you really think I'm ever gonna let you outta my sight again Blue? I've been dreaming about this day for years."

You carefully gazed up at him, his grasp on you had begun to soften.

He notices your confusion, or want for an explanation at the very least.

"You really think I would attack this place for water? Or for my men's retirement plan? Nah, blue. I burnt this town down for you, and I'd do it ten times over if you just asked."

It is then you are reminded of the skinny, lanky boy you made friends with as a child. Your mother used to laugh and call him your dog, when your father said it, he said it with annoyance. It was true, Red followed you around like a pup, always doing what you wanted and when. You didn't like remembering the day he left, mainly cause he was practically run out of town. It just took a slip of your tongue, it was an accident after all. You were a child, and didn't realise that sometimes words were dangerous. You didn't realise how much Red took your words to heart, or how much he cared to.

' Red, sometimes I just wish...'

'What blue? Tell me, I'll make it true'

'Well I just wish he was dead!'

You knew Red was being perfectly honest when he said he would burn this town down if you asked. He had already tried before.

I don't know about the ending or if reader is really a war trophy but the words came and i just put them down.

[trashogram]

It's even worse for Crimson as being a villain, he's completely wasted. Given how Moxxie acts, personality wise and the like, he has the ruthless side of him(with killing) yet he's intelligent and caring. You'd think these would come about due to his upbringing by both of his parents.

But then we finally get around to it and we see Moxxie's mom is dead and not recently either and Crimson....is a complete dumbass and also an asshole.

This would have been a good side story, to showcase that Moxxie comes from a grey morality family, which is why his personality is the way it is.

His mother is that kind and sweet caring figure, his father is that ruthless and hardass figure, yet somehow, someway the two still love eachother. I feel this also would actually add to Hell as far as the daily life goes and struggles between morality.

The Mafia/Mob, while obviously there's a bunch of assholes within it, that doesn't mean that's all there is to these guys. They wouldn't have gotten anywhere near the power that they had in the 20th Century, if they weren't smart about what they were doing, if they didn't have some sort of code or honor system. As ruthless as Mobsters can be, not all of them are assholes...for the sake of being assholes.

There are laws that had to be followed(different from policies that each Family may have had, so those varied between). Michael Franzese is a huge, good source on the Mafia life and it's a lot more complicated than one might realize.

Crimson comes across as a dumbass, because he didn't check Chaz' finances...when they were in his car, unlocked....on the property. He's head of the Mob and doesn't do the most common sense thing ever, checking someone out before you take their word at face value.

It also comes across as such, that this is somehow the ONLY way to get money. ...Crimson...my guy, HOW are you head of anything in Greed?

No one becomes the Head of the Mafia, if they are so stupid that they don't have fingers in the pockets of...just about everyone they come across, if they don't strategize and have many, many, many different ways of making money.

They introduce us to Crimson as if he's some big shot, with the huge house, the helicopter and all the goons....and yet all that is thrown away when we learn that he's in heavy debt. So how are you paying all your men? How are you paying for any of your supplies? But then they take it a step further with Crimson being a dumbass, by forcing his son to marry Chaz(who he hates) and is just taking the latter's word that he's rich....so you're not going to check the guy who you HATE and make sure he's telling the truth? Crimson you have no right to be pissed at Moxxie, for you being an idiot.

Didn't mean to go on this long spiel I guess, I'm just now worried for when we get into Hazbin...in how Angel's Mafia Family is going to be portrayed, especially when we know it'd at least be early 20th Century of when they were alive. Which means, they should be well organized and have significant power.

....Also Moxxie's mother deserved way better than being killed. I wanted her alive, there was so much potential to have this contrast between Millie's parents and Moxxie's parents and....we didn't get that. ...Also I WANT HER OFFICIAL NAME!

GIVE MOXXIE'S MOM AN OFFICIAL NAME!

Crimson is so deep in debt that he had to take out his brain and put it up for collateral.

It’s the only way to explain why he’s such an audacious idiot that I have to assume failed upward. Or we could blame it on the real problem, which is that Vivienne Medrano decided one day that she wanted to turn a gay wattpad fanfic into an episode of Helluva Boss regardless of how dumb the idea was and no one stopped her.

Exes and Oohs hurts my brain with how preposterous it is, dude. How does marriage work in Hell?? Why the fuck are there priests in Hell that can officiate marriages?!

As for Angel Dust — God, is being from a mafia family even part of his character anymore? Oy vey we’ll probably find out before we spend anymore time on Charlie in Hazbin Hotel.

(I’m gonna call Moxxie’s mom Marzia. It’s cute. Not holding out for the show to actually give her a name.)

[athenaistired]

𝐍𝐄𝐔𝐕𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄 ❞

— 𝐘𝐨𝐮’𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 //

very nervous to post this ngl my heart is racing for some reason lmao. still not sure on the title of this fic cuz im not 100% certain if i will be writing a part 2, but if you guys will like this random idea that my brain produced on a tuesday evening then be sure to let me know. i can’t promise the timing of the chapters though bcz i have a very busy life, but i will try my best x

ᴘʟᴏᴛ: ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇɴᴛ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʜᴏᴍᴇʟᴇꜱꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘᴏᴏʀ ᴛᴏ ᴏɴᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏꜱᴛ ꜱᴜᴄᴄᴇꜱꜱꜰᴜʟ ᴀɴᴅ ʀɪᴄʜ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ ɪɴ ꜰᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴘʀᴏᴍɪꜱᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴀ ʟᴇɢᴇɴᴅ — ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ʀᴇᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀᴇᴅ ꜰᴏʀᴇᴠᴇʀ. ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴛ, ᴇʏᴇ-ᴄᴀᴛᴄʜɪɴɢ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴘᴇʀꜰᴇᴄᴛ ʏ/ɴ, ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ ᴀᴄʀᴏꜱꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀᴘɪᴛᴀʟ ᴏɴʟʏ ꜱᴀɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ᴘʀᴀɪꜱᴇꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ꜱᴘᴇᴀᴋ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ɪɴ ᴀᴡᴇ. ʜᴏᴡᴇᴠᴇʀ, ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴡɪʟʟ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ ᴀ ᴛʀᴀᴜᴍᴀᴛɪᴄ ᴇᴠᴇɴᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴏ ᴍᴜᴛᴇ ᴀɢᴀɪɴꜱᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴡɪʟʟ? ᴀʜ, ꜰᴏʀɢᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴ — ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴏɴᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇꜱᴛ ʟᴀᴡʏᴇʀꜱ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛʀʏ ᴡʜᴏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ᴡᴀʏ ᴛᴏᴏ ᴄʟᴏꜱᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ꜰᴜʟʟ ᴏꜰ ᴄʀɪᴍᴇ.

art credit & word count: 5365

warning: homelessness, discrimination, growing up poor, violence, knife crime, description of physical wounds, hospitals, ptsd, muteness, psychological trauma, depression

— 𝑨𝑳𝑴𝑶𝑺𝑻 𝑺𝑶𝑴𝑬𝑶𝑵𝑬 𝑰 𝑾𝑨𝑺 𝑴𝑬𝑨𝑵𝑻 𝑻𝑶 𝑩𝑬 !1!

One of the first memories that you can recall back when you were only 4 years old — is your father crouching down in the middle of the street whilst picking up the coins that a rich bastard threw your way to have a good laugh with his friends. Your father was calling out for your name, screaming at you to help him and count all the mora, but you couldn’t move yourself out of the stupor. Your gaze was glued onto the laughing sickos that shamelessly pointed their fingers at your old man like he was a circus animal preforming for their entertainment.

That memory taught you two things. One, money was the access for power to do anything you could ever want. And two, money made people evil.

“Y/N, SNAP OUT OF IT ALREADY AND HELP ME!” You flinched at him as he grabbed your shoulders and shook you like a ragdoll. You quickly nodded, and crouched down by his side to collect the coins with your shaky fingers.

You felt something wet hitting your cheek, and with dread, you realized that it was not a raindrop. One of those assholes had spit right at your head. Right then and there — you wanted to aim a punch at his jaw to wipe off that smug, malicious smirk, but you knew you couldn’t do that. After all, you lived in Fontaine. These rich bastards definitely had the money, fame, and connections to put you behind bars for assault if you were to even try anything.

In the end, you were powerless. Because you didn’t have the money that they did. And because you were afraid to hurt people like they did. You were the two things — that made people weak.

If only you could change that, you would grasp at any chance that’d you get.

-

You stared down at the plate in front of you. It was a sad pile of canned beans, the same meal that you and your father had been eating for 2 weeks now. At least, you weren’t living with 4 roommates anymore how you had done in the past. You had no appetite, but you knew that you had to eat. You couldn’t get sick, and tomorrow you needed to have the energy to study and work around the house. Somehow, your father had actually managed to get the job working as the cleaner at the opera house, but it didn’t pay well.

Affording rent, food, supplies, and hygiene products sometimes felt impossible. Thankfully, you two fell in the lower range of income, meaning that there was no need to pay any taxes. And yet, your situation was not bad enough for the government to supply you with any financial aid. You two couldn’t even apply for bankruptcy, because then your father could potentially either lose the studio or his guardianship over you.

“Y/N, is there something on your mind?” Your father had asked, noticing that you were playing with your food.

“Daddy.. How do people become rich?” Your question made him pause, but he wasn’t surprised by its nature. After all, the only thing the two of you were thinking was money, money, money..

Money.

“That’s.. A difficult question, bunny.” He sighed, and wiped his mouth with a napkin before taking a sip of his water, “Some people are born into wealthy families, some people start get expensive supplies and sell them for massive goods, and some.. Are very educated, and they acquire successful jobs that pay well.” The look in his gaze grew heavy. He was only in his late 30s, but his wrinkles and eye-bags made him look older by at least 10 more years, “I’m sorry, bunny..

..Daddy is so sorry for not giving you a good life.”

Your father didn’t speak much of his past, but somehow you knew anyway. Your mother died during birth. When you were born your father was only half-way through his education, but had to abandon it in order to take care of you. He took two years off work, and both of you lived through his extra savings, until they had eventually ran dry. Your grandparents wanted nothing to do with your father. He was the last son out of 5, and they saw him as a leech trying to suck out their expenses.

And here you were.

Nothing to your name. Absolutely nothing. You didn’t even have friends, because children would always make fun of your clothes, and would always rub it in your face that you couldn’t afford to have toys like they did (from the fancy stores). Your dad many times crafted toys for you himself, but after one bully had broken a skillfully sculptured wooden doll of a horse that your father had spent hours perfecting — your toys became more than just mere “toys” — they were your little treasures. You didn’t want anyone to hurt them, as they were pieces of your father’s heart and love.

“Don’t say such silly things, daddy.” You got up from your chair and wrapped your hands around his neck; hugging him close. His form was shaking — he was holding back from crying as much as he could, “I am the happiest child in the whole of Fontaine.”

“Are you really?” He asked, and you nodded.

“Of course I am.”

You both knew that you were lying.

-

The older you got — the more you grew hungrier for knowledge. Your father on your 16th birthday gifted you new clothes, so you finally had something normal-looking to wear into the city. Most of your time you’ve spent in the library, studying everything that your eyes would land on. It seemed that you were a natural — you were meant for great things.

Subjects didn’t come easy to you, but you had the greatest motivation of them all — to be powerful. To have money. To built the life for yourself that was an opposite of the one which you had right now. You didn’t care if you had to be a doctor, a professor, or a lawyer. Anything would do, as long as you could actually eat warm food. Have nice clothes. Afford jewelry.

“Latin?” The librarian with curiosity picked up one of the books that laid by your side, “History, Biology, Anatomy, Herbology, Law, Politics, Sociology.. What subject are you actually trying to study?”

“Everything.” You answered with confidence evident in your voice, “I want to get a scholarship to the University of Fontaine.. My father can’t afford to pay for my tuition, so I have to be the best of the best.”

“You’re a star, Y/N. I bet one day I will be telling people that I used to see you everyday at this old, dusty library.” The woman petted your head in encouragement, and you blushed at her compliments and shyly looked away, “I am sure that no matter what you’ll pursue — you’ll excel at it. You’re clearly a born genius.”

“Y-you flatter m-me..” You played with the lock of your hair. It wasn’t everyday that you were showered in praise and encouragement, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, child.” The old lady then went back to the front desk where a few people were already waiting for her to either borrow or return a book.

-

“Daddy, I’m home.” You walked into your’s and your father’s new apartment.

From a studio, the two of you were now managing to afford a one-bedroom flat. Many times you begged your father to sleep on the bed, and that you would take the couch, but the stubborn man never budged. He wanted for his child to have all the best in life that he could manage to give. You always had bigger meals than him, better clothes, freshly washed sheets every week, a clean room, and a lot of hand-built furniture and toys. Of course you didn’t play with the toys anymore, but you were proud to display them on the highest shelf of the armoire.

“Welcome back, bunny.” You heard his voice from the kitchen. He was doing the dishes which have been rotting around in the sink for the past 3 days now. However, he didn’t blame you — he knew that you were getting ready for the exams, “How are your studies going?”

“They’re going well, daddy.” You reassured him, and quickly left to another room to change into a homey t-shirt, “Let me help you with the dishes.” You insisted, to which the old man scoffed.

“Nonsense.”

“Your hands are all roughed up and tired from the day! Please, dad.” You begged him, and the two of you exchanged a long stare, until he gave in and left to plop down on the couch.

“Have you decided who you want to be yet?” He asked you, and you ignored his question. This line always made your stomach turn and twist in anxiety, “I am not trying to put any pressure on you, bunny. It’s just.. It’ll be easier to prepare for an exam if you knew which direction you’d like to take.”

“I know, dad..” You answered back to him, finally turning off the tap and reaching for the tea towel, “I know.”

-

You were 19 now, growing older and wiser. You eventually learned to make clothes by yourself, so now you were able to not stand out from the crowd of aristocrats living in the heart of Fontaine, yet save money with the wardrobe treasures. Somehow, you managed to make friends. They were all home-schooled kids, and with a small twinkle about your background, you managed to find a way to fit in. Life was slowly building its stairs towards your ultimate success.

And then, the day of epiphany came.

“Dad! Dad! I got in, I got in!”

You jumped from happiest like an excited bunny — very fitting to the nickname that you’ve had your whole life. Your father proudly looked at the acceptance letter for the law course that you chose in the end. They accepted you on a scholarship, so you didn’t even have to pay for education.

“That’s my bunny! Look how smart you are!” He hugged you tight and you squeaked from happiness, “We must celebrate! I might even get us a bottle of wine! We’ll drink to thank the Archon for my smart Y/N!”

“Dad, stop! No way you’ll actually spend the savings on wine!” You laughed, still not believing your ears. Your father had never ever bought alcohol, and now he was willing to get a whole bottle for your sake? Felt like your birthday!

“Not all savings, but we have more than enough to enjoy a bottle of good wine!” You watched your dad walk up towards the bookshelf and move around a few of your books, to finally reach a small leather bag with some mora in it. Should be just enough for a nice dinner with a bottle of wine, “We are going to a restaurant — the best in town!”

“Really?!” You gasped in shock. You were both ecstatic, yet anxious. Wasn’t this all a bit too much? Shouldn’t this money be saved for something else?

“You’ve been working so hard — you deserve a day of celebration before you go off into the world to stand on your own feet. Let daddy treat you to a meal one last time, bunny.”

You felt touched to the bottom of your heart. It felt like you were about to burst into tears. All your life you’ve been waiting for this moment — to become someone. Someone whose name will be remembered and respected. You wanted to be someone who had money and power. You wanted to buy your father a house by the sea, so he could always enjoy the beautiful sights of Fontaine. You wanted freedom to do what’s desired — and you worked harder than anyone to reach such milestone in life.

“I will make you proud to be my father.. I promise.” You said through tears.

“Oh, bunny. I have always been so proud of you.” He breathed out a laugh, “Forever and always.”

-

Years passed by in a flash, and you just celebrated your 29th birthday in your office, with a box of cupcakes by your side made by your good friend Charlotte. You now had a bachelor’s degree, finished law school as one of the top students, and passed the bar exam with flying colors. On the side, you even managed to secure yourself a phD in Criminal Justice. You had a few years of practice at a pretty successful firm, and had connections all the way to the Chief of Justice. You never met him yourself, but you obviously had seen him before. He had your interest, that’s for sure, but you were far too busy with your own goals to pay attention to anything else. Your clients were loyal to you, and had blind trust in your capabilities. Your name was passed from one rich bastard to another, and soon you were amongst the top.

The little Y/N was probably looking up at you in complete awe and jealousy. You were exactly what they wanted to be back then. Professional, intelligent, and powerful. But as you stared at yourself in the mirror — your eyes were still empty, your heart was still unfulfilled, and your stomach was still rumbling from hunger.

You were just getting started.

Perhaps, one day you’ll be the right hand of the Chief of Justice. Or maybe you’ll take over his position as a whole. You were limitless. You were meant for greatness. You were meant for leadership.

“Y/N, a client is calling. He’s requesting a meeting today, and he is saying that it is urgent.” One of your assistants came up to you with a worried look on his face. You were already getting dressed to leave the office, but paused. You checked the watch, and shook your head.

“It is 7pm, and I finish working at 6pm. I already stayed overtime. Tell him to come back tomorrow, I think I have a free slot at 4pm if I am not mistaken.” You tried to pass by your assistant, but he followed after you like a clingy puppy.

“B-but.. Y/N!” He begged, because he hated when he had to deal with your stubborn clients. Especially, considering your reputation, majority of the people who contacted you were scary criminals, because they knew that you’d get their ass out of trouble no matter the crime.

“No buts, today I will be seeing my father. I haven’t seen him for 3 years, and my father will always take priority.” You decided to exit through the back door, so that you wouldn’t have to deal with the mess which was about to go down.

“B-but, Y/N, please!” You shut the door in his face and sighed. You really did feel bad for Achille from time to time, but he got very good overtime tips from you, so you knew that at the end of the day he will definitely have an extra bonus for a good bottle of whiskey.

-

“Now, where was I..”

Fontaine was a prestigious place, but that wasn’t an equivalence to safety. From time to time, you would hear pleasured gasps from the darkened alleys or pained moans of drug addicts shivering in the cold. But the sound which had especially caught your attention were footsteps that have been following you for some time now.

You took a turn.

The person took a turn with you.

You crossed the road.

They followed.

You could smell the malicious intent from the dark figure. You didn’t want to turn around, because then the person would know that you knew. You were panicking inside, but didn’t let it swallow you as you forced yourself to think. It was late, most places were closed by now. You couldn’t be alone right now. Some bars had to be open.

Right.

A bar.

You should go to the bar — now!

However, luck was not on your side, you couldn’t see a single bar in the area. You saw food shops, clothes shops, a local clinic, a library, a few cafés, however, not a single bar. The one that did catch your eye had been closed for 2 months now after someone got accidentally poisoned with the Primordial Seawater which accidentally made its way into their beer.

Strangely, this didn’t seem like a spontaneous ambush. The location had been carefully selected, and your escape options have been limited ahead. With a curse under your breath, you also remembered that today was one of the bank holidays. You were working today only because you never miss an extra pay day, but nobody else seemed to be as crazed for a paycheck as you.

Many people who got sent to jail by your work would always promise to hunt you down when they would be let out. However, you never thought about it happening because you haven’t been in the field for long enough for some of your foes to be freed. So, who was this? Who was stalking you?

You reached into your bag, and pulled out a small mirror in hopes of catching a glimpse in their reflection. Your palms were sweating, and you were shaking without realizing it. The next thing you knew — you cursed under your breath — as the thing fell out of your hands and shattered against the road.

The sudden noise, set everything into action. You sprinted off the spot into a run, and the stalker chased after you without hesitation. Now, your adrenaline was pumping your veins, and it felt like the intensity of it would make your heart stop from overdrive. You were never much of an athletic person, but you were running like never before. The sound of your shoes clacking against the embedded stones echoed across the ghostly streets. The stalker’s steps reminded you of the sound that the boots of a hunter made against the ground whilst chasing their prey. Silent, careful, and concenrated at their target.

You felt like a bunny being chased down by its predator — a wolf. You had all the power you wanted at your work, but when it came down to it — you were just as weak as you always have been.

It was getting harder and harder to breathe, you had a stabbing pain in the side of your ribs, and you were now beginning to get an agonic heartburn — however — your legs didn’t stop moving. Your knees were starting to ache, your feet were getting sore at the back, your mouth and throat were turning dry as a desert with each passing second, but you knew that you had to keep running.

The moment you will stop — you will die.

You had no thoughts in the moment, just pure survival instincts have completely taken over control of your movements and body. You couldn’t focus on anything or come up with a clear plan — you were terrified for the first time in a while. Even when you and your father had lived on the streets, you were always allowed to wander off due to the safety. Where were the guards? Where were Fontainians? Why was it this empty around?

And then it felt like the time had paused.

The present had slowed down, and you could see everything happening in third perspective.

Your shoe platform broke against the slippery surface, and you lost your balance as you found yourself dropping down the stairs. You gasped; your ankle twisted in an unnatural way sending a jolting zap of pain throughout your whole body. But before you could even process what just happened — your body didn’t stop falling. You had nothing to grab onto, no one to help you, and so you kept falling.

You’re falling!

You’re falling!

There was a dull thud at the back of your head as you had finally reached the bottom of the staors. You barely felt it, and you thought that you could get up just fine, but your body felt too heavy. It protested against any of your attempts, and betrayed you at the worst moment. Your vision was darkening against your will. Your mind was still sound and clear, but your body had began to shut down from the pain shock and potential concussion.

Now, the speed of your thoughts began to fade as well. There was a sharp sensation at the lower base of your spine, and your knee felt like it was locked in an unusual position.

You fought for your eyes to stay open, and felt everything come to a stop as Death itself stared back at your pathetic little form laying in the middle of the street. No, it wasn’t Death, it was the stalker leaning down and crouching next to your chest. The stranger rose his palm in front of your lips, and you held in your breath.

Something at the back of your mind told you to play dead, and so you did.

5 seconds..

10 seconds..

15 seconds..

20 seconds..

25 seconds..

You could barely hold your face muscles from twitching, and your lungs were beginning to ache. The bastard was playing with you. You could almost imagine his maniacal grin burning holes right through you, waiting for you to hiccup a breath.

You couldn’t do it anymore.

It was getting too much.

You had to take a breath.

You had to.

You were about to do it—

And so you did.

With a gasp, you instantly opened your eyes and rolled yourself to the side just on time as the stranger smashed his pocket knife to where a second ago was your head. Adrenaline was back all over again, as now you knew that this wasn’t just a desperate creep — this man was here for your life.

However, something seemed strange. You were certain that some of your limbs were twisted in a wrong direction and a few of your bones were broken. If he really wanted to kill you — he would have done it already. No, he wasn’t after your life. He wanted to see the terror, the agony, the horror, and consume it like a delicious meal. This was sick, and personal. Personal didn’t mean that he knew you, but it could indicate that he got off to this expression of violence for selfish and distorted reasons.

“You coward!” You gritted through your teeth; your eyes flaring with hatred. You didn’t want to die like this. You didn’t fight for your whole life just for this sicko to take it all away from you, “HOW. FUCKING. DARE YOUUUU!!!”

The freak laughed at your scream, and sat down on top of your broken and twisted body with a blade shining up in the air. His grip was tight — you were terrified. So, so afraid. You were shaking, it was cold, and you wanted to cry. You were a strong person, but such an unfair Death shook you to the core.

The knife plunged down fast and unexpectedly, but your instincts were faster — it never reached your chest. You managed to grab the blade with your bare palms, and held it on tight. The pain was agonizing, and you screamed like a howling animal. Your bright red blood was streaming down your wrist onto your shirt, your face, and neck. The freak couldn’t stop laughing, as he tried to put all force into lowering the weapon slower, and slower.

You were beginning to lose hope.

In that moment you remembered that your other knee was perfectly fine. As soon as you gathered enough strength, you sent a massive kick with your leg straight into his groin. Thankfully, he was caught by a surprise, and you managed to then send you final blow — with your forehead — you smashed straight into his nose, and finally he was the one screaming in pain. For some reason, you felt much more powerful than usual. It felt like you would move a mountain if that was needed, as long as you could stay alive tonight.

“What the hell is going on here?!”

You heard sounds, people’s voices and commotion. Your screams were not for nothing, someone finally managed to hear you. There was a group of Fontanians rushing towards your aid. At their sight, the freak grabbed his knife and quickly ran away. You reached your palm towards his disappearing silhouette, however, before anyone could catch at least one sight of him — he was already gone.

Without even realizing it, you let yourself fall into a deep sleep.

-

You woke up in the hospital all alone. There were no nurses around you, no doctors, no friends nor your father. The memories quickly came back to you, but you felt still. Your heart was racing all over again, but you had no energy to fight or run anymore. The logical part of your brain had already determined that you were saved, and hospital was probably the best place for you to be at the moment.

You thought about your father who never saw you in the end that evening, you thought about how long you were unconscious, and whether your clients have managed to find someone to replace their defense. You had a tendency to always think about others, but never about yourself.

“Y/N is awake!” You didn’t even notice Achille coming into the room. The poor boy had almost dropped the coffee which he was holding as he desperately called for the doctor.

“Ah, Y/N, finally awake!” Another male came in with a huge comforting smile on his face. He was an older and wiser doctor; you could tell by his composed walk and worn-off glasses. The grey hairs and wrinkles reminded you of your father, but you would think about that later, “How are you feeling?”

A simple question.

Why couldn’t you answer?

You opened your mouth just like always to speak with the voice which had never betrayed you before — but nothing came out. With confusion, you gently grabbed at your own throat as if hoping that the warmth of your palms would fix it. Achille stared at you in shock, and quickly reached for a glass of water to give to you, which you gobbled down in an instant, but your voice refused to come back. A dry, weak cough came out which burned and itched your vocal cords.

Completely stunned and puzzled, you stared at the doctor in desperation for answers. What was happening with you?

“That’s quite an unpleasant surprise..” The older male mumbled to himself, “Could you please excuse me?” And at that he left, leaving you in internal silence which felt like it could swallow you whole. Eventually, he came back 20 minutes later with another 2 doctors by his side. They looked younger, but all had a cloned serious look in their eyes, “Y/N, these are my colleagues. This is Dr. Laurent, he is our head psychiatrist, and this is Dr. Allard, who is our neurologist. We are not sure what is happening here, but before we continue further evaluations, I will give you a rundown of your physical injuries thus far.”

The man pulled a small chair to sit on and picked up a file with your name on it. This must have been the report from other doctors and nurses who have been taking care of you.

“You have a twisted ankle, a broken kneecap, a torn meniscus, you’ve suffered a blunt injury to the back of your head and a concussion, and to top it all you had very severe injuries inflicted onto your palms with a sharp object which we suspect to have been a pocket knife. You have been in the hospital for 2 days, however, we have already performed a few surgeries to lower the risk of infection or the worsening of your condition.” You nodded your head to urge him to continue, “We have stitched up your meniscus, and treated the wounds on your hands. We have also applied a cast on your kneecap to help it heal. You were actually lucky — the kneecap will heal quicker than expected with majority of patients, however, the rehabilitation for the torn meniscus should take up to 4 weeks.”

You could already feel a headache hovering over your thoughts. You didn’t have time for this bullshit. You had work, you had father to take care of, you had clients to help, and money to make. How could this have happened? Why did this happen to you? You were hoping for that attack to have been a cursed nightmare, but the reality was too depressing to accept.

“Now, since there was no damage to your throat or vocal cords upon initial examination, we would like for the neurologist to ensure that your muteness is not a physical symptom.” The first doctor welcomed Dr. Allard to begin his job.

-

In the end — they have concluded for your muteness to be a PTSD response to the event. They told you to stay in the hospital until full recovery. This wasn’t just for health reasons, but also a safety precaution. It was obvious that you were brutally attacked by a psycho, it would be beyond insane to just let you go back home completely broken down, vulnerable, and mute.

You fell at the rock bottom once again. It has been a while since depression had visited you like this. It felt like an old friend who would come and go, but only appear when life would throw its most tough battles at you. You’ve clenched your fists at the thought of how vulnerable you were right now.

“Y/N is not well! They can’t answer your questions right now — have some respect!” You heard the commotion right outside your door which peaked your interest. However, you quickly put the pieces together as to who were the uninvited guests trying to force their way through to you.

“It won’t even take a minute, we promise!” The doctors were pushed out their way, and the door into your private resting room was burst open. You winced at the loudness of their voices, “Sorry for the.. Unprofessional entrance.”

Before you stood Navia, Aether and Paimon. You have known those 3 for a while now — after Traveler had helped save Fontaine a few months ago from the punishment of Celestia, you made sure to show personal thanks and gratitude in the name of your Nation. However, you haven’t spoken to the blond boy and his fairy since. Navia on the other hand often exchanged her investigation reports and crime theories with you, but the dynamic was still too frail to be called friendship. Perhaps, you just didn’t let anyone get close enough to actually become your friend.

“Y/N.. I am so sorry for what had happened to you..” Navia started with his soap opera phrases. You didn’t want that right now. You hated being pitied, “We will do everything in our power to find the one who did this to you and to your father — it is my promise to you, Y/N.”

Your eyes widened and you stared at her in absolute horror. You felt your blood run ice-cold as sudden lightheadedness took over your consciousness. You thought that you would throw up right then and there.

Your father?

What happened to your father?

WHAT HAPPENED TO MY DAD?!

The doctors quickly rushed in as the machines hooked to your body suddenly went off with a loud alarm — which startled you further. Your body was shaking, your mouth was open in a scream with no sound coming out. You grabbed at your head feeling like chaos had completely taken over your life.

“LEAVE — NOW!”

The doctor screamed at Navia and Traveler who stood frozen in place from shock at how quickly they fucked up. Things seemed to have escalated out of nowhere.

“They are going into a shock — quickly — or they might suffer another seizure!” Doctors were talking to one another as they took care of you to bring you back to them.

You couldn’t cope with this terrible reality.

[cyten0]

A Symphony in Crimson

Act 1: A Movement in Black

Chapter 7

Okay. First floor of the house, the librarian mentioned candles, and you know the candles are here. Just need to get that key and focus on the enemies until then, so you don’t focus on your party. It’s been working so far...

◆ “You alright Siffrin?”

Huh?!?

◆ “You’ve been in that odd stance this entire time. The one you sometimes use in combat.”

▲ “Right! The feral stance! It’s kinda cool, seeing you move like a graceful panther or something, but you don’t do it often. And the way you fight in it is honestly impressive!”

◉ “It’s kinda cool seeing you use it more!”

STARS of course, you reverted back to hunting instincts! You try not to use those too much, since if your not thinking through your moves you can act weird, but with so much of your focus on not hurting them, it’s kind of the only way you can fight right now! You need to think of an excuse…

✦ “I mean, we’re about to fight the king! Gotta get serious.”

◉ “It’s time to get serious!”

▲ “I’ll show the king my true power!”

◉ “And then… I’ll rule the world, with adorable lullaby songs!”

Wait what?!? You know you sing yourself lullabies before sleep, but you didn’t know they heard that!

✦ “Wait you NOTICED THAT?!?”

▲ “Course we did! In fact, Bonbon uses them to fall asleep themselves!”

✿ “ZA!!! How dare you! That was secret!!!”

▲ “O-Oh! Sorry!”

You chuckle a little, before moving on… So you guess your just gonna be in hunting mode this entire time, huh?… It’s fine. They’ve already seen it, they think it’s just a technique. And as long as you can keep your focus, that’s all it’ll be to them. Just don’t let it get out of control, don’t hurt them, don’t do anything too weird, and it’ll be fine. You can let the instincts do the fighting, and your focus can be on keeping it under control.

>>>

◆ “Ah, bathrooms...So, does anyone need to go?”

The others raise their hands, but you don’t.

◆ “Really Siffrin? With how much you’ve been eating?”

▲ “Yeah, you’ve nearly eaten Bonnies entire backup supply, both times we had snack breaks!”

You admit, you’ve gotten a bit ambitious with the snack breaks so far, but every bit counts right now.

✦ “Nope! I’ll just stand guard!”

▲ “Well, alright, if your sure!”

Odile gives a strange look at you, then heads in with the others.

…Right. Loop said they could get you something decent if you bought them time, and you’ve made an opening. You wait till their all in and out of sight, before whispering.

✦ “(Loop? What do you have?)”

✸ Well done on that opening, Stardust! For today’s special, we have Deer! Coming right up!

◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆

You wait a little before peaking out. SOMETHING is off with Siffrin today. He’s eating way more then normally, fighting oddly, and yet somehow still looks ever so slightly ill. You tend to keep tabs on it, as you were hoping you could maybe help out after the king if you had the opportunity, but this hardly makes sense. They don’t use that stance when their hunger is acting up, or if they do, only in emergencies. Which means it’s been an emergency all day today. Whatever is happening, it is very bad.

You hear something in the hallway, and a strange shade illuminates the walls! Time to take a look. To your surprise, there’s a deer in the hallway? And-

You don’t even get a moment to think on that before Siffrin grapples the creature. His hands are twisted into bestial claws, as he plunges them into the back of it’s spine! And then… Something is entering into the deer. It suddenly stops thrashing, it’s face grows cold, and it begins to move like a puppet. Gems Alive, what did Siffrin do to the poor thing?

You… You watch as Siffrin’s body snaps like a twig, and begins to unravel, as the deer begins to bleed across the floor. As Siffrin’s form grows larger and larger, you suddenly watch the deer get pulled into his form a single sudden move! As you watch the cloaked ball of flesh and teeth writhe, you hear crunching and tearing coming from within, slowly becoming quieter and quieter, until they slowly shrink themselves back down, their forms withdrawal leaving streaks of blood upon the stone floor…

… That... goes far beyond what you were expecting. This isn’t some condition, this is… What even IS Siffrin? … No, You can’t ignore this. Not right now. The king is barely a floor away, and their hiding THIS? You already knew they were doing bad, but if their eating entire creatures alive, then it needs to be addressed IMMEDIATELY. Whatever his intentions, they could be a liability, and you aren’t going to let stubborn pride endanger you all.

◆ “Siffrin.”

He turns to you, horrified. Your rather annoyed he would hide something this big, so you just get straight to the point.

◆ “I thought it worth checking up on you, CLEARLY I was right to do so. Mind explaining what THAT was?”

✦ “Uh, I, uh!”

◆ “I thought something was up with how much you were eating, and apparently it’s not even the start. So. Tell me. What. Was. That?”

✦ “No no not again, no stars no I thought I-I-”

Wait. Do you smell…. Burnt suga-

《

✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦

◆ “-does anyone need to go?”

!!!

You. You raise your hand. And enter the bathroom with the others.

As soon as your in a stall, you try to think. STARS! You were so close! You finally, FINALLY get to have a halfway decent meal, even if it was just a drop in the bucket, and then… And then!

Stars, if there’s one person who would just KILL you the second she found out you were dangerous, it would be her. She wouldn’t hesitate, and you wouldn’t blame her. And you could tell! She was staring at you with hatred! You could feel her body temperature rise, and that means anger. You LIKE Odile, you don’t want her to hate you!

...It’s fine. Just. Find a different spot. Or. Something. You don’t know.

✸ Also stardust, I noticed something... odd there. We should discuss it, next time your free!

Huh? Okay. Worth noting.

>>>

Alright, you all settle into the third floor snack room. Bonnie’s searching through the snacks, and you are waiting patiently. It’s hard to make yourself do so, because you know what’s in there, and you can hardly resist.

▲ “You seem excited Sif! Something got your attention?”

Bonnie perks up, and you feel embarrassed.

✦ “I uh! I just. Smelled something. And might. Be a little excited!”

Not technically a lie, you can smell them. You just weren’t thinking about it the first time, distracted by the conversation.

✦ “Plus I’m also really hungry so-”

◉ “AGAIN?!?”

Uhoh!

◆ “Siffrin this is the third time today you nearly ate Bonnies entire stash! How are you STILL that hungry?”

✿ “Yeah, Frin! I know I pack extra just in case of this, but I can only carry so much!”

Stars, did you really eat that much? That explains Odile’s suspicion earlier. You know every bit counts, but you might have to tone it down in future... If you can hold yourself back.

✿ “Well. Since you smelled them already, and want them so much, we can do these first!”

You make a high pitched noise of excitement as Bonnie pulls out the Malanga Fritters! They smell SO GOOOD!!!!! You have to hold yourself back from literally tackling Bonnie for them. You sit there, practically vibrating in place, as Bonnie hands them over to you. The somewhat nutty, fried smell washes over you, as you instantly devour them. You try and savor the taste for as long as it’s in you mouth, even though it isn’t long at all with how much you want to eat them.

▲ “Wow, you tore those apart!"

You sure did! You wish you had more, but it’s ok, you’ll get some later. For now, you just soak in that flavor… The vague memories from Siffrin’s life waxing back into some clarity. Sitting at a table in a spacious room, surrounded by loved ones, that meal in front of you, your supposed mother enjoying your reaction… You can’t remember the details, trying just hurts your head. The only way you can get as much as you have is by remembering them through the lens of the monster. That degree of separation, and a LOT of practice, are the only reason you can remember as much as you can. No idea who those people were, you can only even guess the mother part really. But. It’s an anchor. A way to hold Siffrin at the forefront. Because in that moment, you’re remembering it as he did.

✿ “Frin?! Are you crying!?”

Oh stars, you are, all over again! Every time!

✦ “Sorry, it’s just been a while since I had them! Thank you so much!”

It’s a lie... But it feels like it’s the truth. Like it has been forever. Bonnie seems pleased with themselves! The others pick out your snacks, as you make do with a second helping of fritters. Despite eating that deer earlier, it doesn’t feel like it did much at all. Probably because you looped right after.

OK. Time to recap. On the front of helping your friends, you found the familytale for Odile in the secret library, or hopefully have. If it’s not with the boulangerie, it should be SOMEWHERE in Dormont still. You figured out what Mirabelle’s papers are, sort of, so you’ll ask her more and that should help. And you found out one of Bonnie’s favorite foods is rice. You already knew about the other two, they really like samosas, and you literally cannot forget the pineapple incident. You shudder a little. Only thing that comes close to that in terms of pain is fire, and you’ve only experienced death by one of those two. … Anyways, That just leaves whatever Isa has in mind, which you guess you’ll find out when you do the others.

On the other front, you learned some about Timecraft, and found it’s supposed to be literally fatal to most. It not killing you is somewhat unsurprising, but the fact that it’s barely taxing at all, the specifics of how it’s working for you, and the lack of control you have over it, indicate there’s another force at play. Meanwhile, you’ve confirmed most of what you knew about the king. He’s definitely from the northern country like Siffrin, and that nobody is quite sure where his power is from. The Head housemaiden's office was mostly a bust. But did let you find out the king chose his title. Might be interesting to ask about, but finding out what’s giving him the power to use Timecraft is more important for now…

...Something in the back of your mind itches. As if there is a possible connection there. But you can’t remember why. But your not sure how. Something Siffrin knew… It’s fine. Thinking too hard will give you a headache, and given you’ll have to face the king soon, you need to be able to think clearly. Especially since you need to use your new voice to maybe have a chance of asking some questions.

…Alright, Time for the king.

>>>

Once again, you face the king. Your party members talk before you, responding to the question he has posed. Your turn.

✦ “We can’t afford to let you win.”

He does not turn like before. Success!

♔ “How unfortunate…… Are you sure? Your hopes…. Your joys…. You would let them flicker and fade with time?…. Let your lives burn away…?”

You all simply stare him down. Determined.

♔ “oooohhhhh….. Then so be it…… But first….. Bright one…. Do you remember?”

✦ “Do you?”

You know the answer, but hearing him say it now, when he thinks your human…. You feel it’s important.

♔ “ooooohhhhh…. No… So they are lost to us both….”

The king pauses, and looks over you all.

♔ “….. Do you have any more words for me?….. before we begin?…..”

Hm. Decidedly more merciful now. But you suppose now’s the best time to ask…

✦ “What’s giving you the power to use timecraft?”

♔ “ooohhhh?…..Timecraft. I suppose I am….”

◆ “Right, it’s supposed to be impossible to control, and require power well in excess of anyone’s capabilities. So…. How?”

♔ “...Hah! You are right…. I could not on my own…. So. I had some help…..”

◉ “Help?!? Who would…?”

♔ “What else could? But the Universe…. I simply had to make my wish known to it, and it answered….”

◉ “The Universe? What is that?”

▲ “It’s… Hm, it’s on the tip of my tongue, but I can’t seem to remember.”

…. Wait. Wish. The universe. Your head hurts but... You remember something. Something you studied a lot as Siffrin?

✦ “Did you use Wishcraft?”

▲ “Huh?”

♔ “Ooohhhh? So you know of it….. You are correct… Then you know the Universe believes in me?”

….The Universe leads… but...

✦ “We’ll see about that.”

...It takes strength to follow. And he has already given up on the future. You let the idea go before it cracks your skull, but you stay strong. It’s time to take them down.

>>>

The fight goes much smoother this time, but a lot slower. He is not nearly as desperate as last time. Breaking the tears was a little tricky without your cheap maneuver from before, and he was a lot more focused, weaving slowing and time stopping magic in with defensive moves. But his attacks were less dangerous, so it was just a matter of whittling him down before you did, and that was simple enough.

You celebrate with your party, head over to the head housemaiden, and listen to them talk. When they split up, you sit there for a second.

If you talk to her now, you might loop back, without getting another chance to talk to the party before going back. You know that, maybe, talking to her now could buy you time but. No, might as well take this chance.

Most of the conversations don’t really matter, your content to leave them as they are. Just say what you did before, focus on not eating them, and move on. But, before you close on Bonnie's conversation, you point out they still have snacks on them.

✿ “WAIT I DO???? Oh wow! I would have thought I’d be out with how much you ate, but I do! And most of it’s pineapple too, Crab yeah!”

There. That should keep them from interrupting your chat with Isa. You… You really want to know what they have to say.

▲”Sif! We did it! We stopped the King! We can finally go back to our normal lives! Isn’t it great?”

✦ “It is!”

▲ “Yeah!…... I uh. I said. Do you remember what I said? At the Clocktower?”

✦ “I remember! What did you want to tell me?”

Please. You need to hear.

▲ “Yes. Um… Yes. Okay. Phew…… Sif. Siffarooni…. Siffrin….”

▲ “...I… I… I lo-”

◉ “OH! We should do a group hug!”

✿ “Yeah!!! Group Hug!”

◆ “Pass.”

▲ “…….sureiguessit’stimeforagrouphug”

STARS Ok. Of course some other interruption occurred. You watch as Mira, Bonnie, and Isa all do a group hug, with you and Odile standing back. Odile just is like that, and you REALLY don’t trust yourself to be that close to them all right now.

Isa comes back. He’ a little silent. You suppose you could try again but…

✦ “What were you going to say?”

▲ “…. Doesn’t matter. Doesn’t matter! It wasn’t that important! I have to think about some things anyways. Just. Say hi if you’re ever by Jouvente?”

You nod, disappointed. But, your tuned ears can hear him mumble under his breath…

▲ “(There goes your perfect moment, Isabeau. King is defeated, country saved…. If they come to Jouvente, I guess can confess there. It’ll have to do.)

….Oh…. Are they… Is… No. There’s no way….

If… If you come back here. You HAVE to hear them say it. You. You can’t be sure unless…

It’s fine. Later. For now. You need answers from her.

You go up to the Head Housmaiden.

◎ “Traveling one! I’d like to thank you for accompanying Mirabelle this far. I’m very-”

✦ “No time, we’ve done this before. You said last time something was broken? What was it?”

◎ “Done this before? Broken? What do you?…….!!!”

Suddenly the air starts to shift again! Already?!?

◎ “Oh… Oh no. Oh no, no, no, no, no… I-I’m so sorry! There’s no way we can stop it now…!”

Wait but…

✦ “PLEASE just tell me!”

◎ “Your going back! Back to when it all started!”

BLIND it, she’s just saying the same things! Is the Timecraft affecting her?!? You have to get her to talk! Anything!

✦ “SṆ̸̏AP OU̷͓͊T OF IT̸͍̿!!!”

◎ “I know you thought your quest is over, but it can’t be! Something is broken, failing, rotting!!! I can’t fix it on my own, not before it all ends… If I had noticed it sooner!!! I should have seen it, prevented it!!!”

WHY???? BLIND IT ALL WHY???? WHY IS SHE LIKE THIS????

◎ “It’s my fault you have to suffer like this. I just hope that one day, you might lea《rn to f《or《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《

《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《

《《《《《《《《《《《

《《《《

….. Back again…. So… Can she just. Not hear you?… To be fair, this method of looping always feels different, so perhaps she’s just not looping correctly?… You guess that makes her a bit of a dead end, unless you can get something particularly notable that will shock her out of that state…. You wonder what it must feel like. You… She’s not conscious during that...

… It’s fine, you can make it up to her by breaking these loops. You can do it! There’s still other leads to go down.

[astral-mariner]

I'll do the WIP Wednesday thing too, why not!

A little snippet of the sequel to my vegebul one-shot (read here if you haven't read it yet and want to) I've been working on! I've written about 4k words so far, and it might end up somewhere around 8 to 10k when all is said and done 👀

He entered the guest room he’d taken up from the balcony, bypassing the rest of the house. He wasted no time stripping, washing thoroughly under a hot shower that stung his fresh wound, and finding a clean pair of dark training shorts. He’d return to the ship once he’d eaten. First, however, to dress his shoulder properly. A drawer beneath one of the water basins contained assorted capsules of primitive medical supplies, and he popped one of them open. Some gauze would protect the burn for now while the flesh mended itself. He wrapped his shoulder and upper arm loosely before searching a dresser for a shirt. Damn that woman again—she still hadn’t delivered the new battle suits. She’d fuss over his wound if she saw it, too, so a shirt was necessary. He chose a black one that would conceal any oozing lest his body betray him yet again. At least the topic of the suits gave a reason to meet with her unrelated to her demanding it. He felt her presence in the kitchen. Waiting, no doubt, and poised to deliver some infuriating remark. He prepared a few of his own before he turned the corner. He didn’t come because he obeyed nor because she had any power over him, and he wouldn’t let her suggest otherwise. Instead, when he entered, she merely looked up from where she sat at the counter, electronic tablet in hand, and smiled at him. This was worse somehow. He glanced away instantly. He heard rather than saw her pat the seat next to her. The scent of all the foods she’d spread out struck him too before his eyes registered the sheer quantity and variety of it. “I realized that I’d never actually asked you which foods you liked,” she said after a moment. “So I just ordered a bunch of different things.”

[doodle-do-wop]

Stina and Keefe HC inspired by this post!

Buckle in this is gonna be a long one

Stina can't fucking stand his ass

Someone save her he's so annoying

Why in the name of the prime sources does Sophie even like this boy he's so obnoxious

He's not even that funny literally why is she laughing at all his dumb jokes

She's in the trenches

This is her personal Exile

Stina can't fucking draw

Like at all

She can't draw

She can draw a horse! A really good horse!

But nothing else it's indistinguishable unless it's a horse

They're literally the same person in a different font

They're both empaths with self esteem issues, the hair(tm), down bad beyond down bad, extremely corny, actually touch starved as all hell, would crack a hole through the earth to reach their partner, self sacrificial morons, unnecessary sarcastic while bleeding out, sassy, detention occupants so frequently in detention once they both attended when they didn't even have detention

They're two cats in a burlap sack(Keefe's the orange one, Stina is the grumpy black cat that will actually kill him if left alone in a room with him)

The simping, did I mention the simping?

Keefe and Stina DONT get along (mostly just Stina) for bloody ages and Sophie and Dex (yes this is also a CopperMares post) wish for them to just grow up and be able to tolerate each other for more than five minutes (Stina lasted SEVEN minutes thank you very much) and the cousins immediately regretted that wish because they forgot how annoying their partners can be

The empath duo will do anything and everything in their power to flirt with/look hot in front of/tease/taint/smirk/smile/wink etc etc etc at their respective partners and it drives them crazy

Sophie and Dex have not know peace (to be fair look at who they're dating, it's a conscious choice)

Keefe might technically be older but despite his white boy attitude and his looks you'd think Stina was his older sister the way she will fully strangle him within an inch of his life and then yank him out of his shoes to buy him lunch

Empaths by genetics, siblings by torture

She still can't stand his ass but at this point that's just Stina's weird way of saying she cares for you (just look at Marella, Stina literally tackles the shit out of her despite Marella being about as tall as your average stepping stool but Stina would still lay down her life for her)

They hang out in the silliest way possible and it's trashing Cassius' house and getting ice cream (not always in that order)

Once they found one of Gisela's wallet cubes and they went to town buying supplies, food, clothes, random furniture (some of which may or may not have been shipped to the neutral territories, what are you a narc?), got their usual ice cream (Stina makes a face at Keefe's order but he swears when there's just the melted stuff at the bottom of the cup it's flavors mix really well) then they leap off to Candleshade and use some of their supplies to trash the house (again)

Cassius' big ass statue of himself has never seen a good day since the two have gotten along

They haven't hit all the floors yet but they will some day

It's a shame the Sencen's suck because they have pretty great taste in furniture and silverware

Sometimes they spray paint a big ass target and have a contest to see who can throw at Cassius statue on the bullseye and get it to stay on the wall (Ro is winning by a lot but Stina's telekinesis is getting really great)

Not an AU goes by where Stina hasn't somehow been stuck with Keefe and at this point I don't think there is

Keefe pretends like he can translate Stina's Stinaness the way Maruca can (ex. Stina telling Maruca she hates her and hopes she falls on her face and Maruca responding with "I love you too Stina") and he's almost never right

Stina 'commit to the bit' Heks has fruitlessly vetoed every Keefe Idea that's ever been brought to the table but guess who's the first person to jump on the bandwagon the second the plan falls into action

Sophie and Dex swap scoldings with each other before they go yell at their idiots for whatever big stupid thing of the month they've done now because otherwise the said idiots might be able to flirt their way out of most of the scolding part

Top 5 people who would sing Agony the way it was meant to be sang, dramatically, competitively, and over a waterfall on the forest with very dramatic very swoonable action

Keefe is princess coded while Stina is reluctant but roguishly handsome prince coded you cannot change my mind

Both would be Flynn Rider though (Keefe can also be Rapunzel though, Stina on the other hand could not)

There's probably so much more I'm forgetting but this is long enough for now

Anyway thanks for reading this all if you have and have a good one

@myfairkatiecat

[hylianassassin]

A Hot Take on Gerudo Survival Skills

I'm not going to rant and rave about the majority of the discord surrounding Tears of the Kingdom when it comes to Ganondorf vs Hyrule. There are more than enough posts circulating about that out there by plenty of good and intelligent folks, and I've already offered my thoughts on it. I encourage folks to go check those out.

What I'm tired of seeing is the argument that the Gerudo have little to nothing to survive on in the desert. This is one of the most badass and longest enduring tribes in all of Zelda and yet for some odd reason folks seem to insist that they're somehow unable to exploit the incredible amount of resources available to them. I've played desert survival challenges in BotW where I exist solely within the Gerudo area for extended periods of time, and if you know what you're doing its actually quite easy.

Anyone who has spent ample time around the Gerudo region in either of these games knows just how incredibly abundant food is in the Gerudo Highlands. There is a ton of large game up there that is easy to bring down with a single headshot from a Gerudo bow. Gerudo bows are sniper bows and are far from useless. Are we going to argue that these very strong and powerful ladies can't do something as simple as draw one of the bows of their own making, or know how to track prey through the snow? One might argue that we never see a Gerudo in the Highlands or in possession of clothing warm enough to survive up there, but I would counter with the fact that the ice house exists and it's clearly stated that the ice is harvested and brought down from the Highlands. This argument is invalid.

Additionally, the desert itself is abound in fruits and poultry ripe for the harvesting. And obviously it's done to such efficiency that there is an ample enough supply to make a profit in selling these items at market, to both Gerudo and Hylians alike. There is obviously enough surplus of hydro melons that there is a Gerudo NPC that devours them to such excess as to clog up one of the fountains in Gerudo Town.

And while we're on the topic, the Gerudo clearly have an ample enough water supply that they can run fountains constantly, all through their town. So clearly they're not struggling there.

Additionally still, Moldugas exist and are shockingly common. Yes, they're big, powerful and dangerous, but if one little twink with enough bomb arrows can kill one then are you going to tell me that this tribe of intelligent, hearty, and highly trained women cannot organize a Molduga hunt with relative ease?

Various Native American groups were able to thrive on only one or two bison hunts a year. It was dangerous, extremely, but they had it down to a science. You're going to tell me that the Gerudo are incapable of such coordination? Honestly it could even explain and deepen their connection to the sand seals. These lovely creatures can carry a few skilled huntresses through a Molduga's territory to flush it out, and with more than one target the Molduga wouldn't know which one to chase. Throw in archers who are on the rocks or ruins and a Molduga dinner is practically guaranteed. And let's not forget that with typical Moldugas, three blasts from Urbosa's fury is more than enough to bring it down. Given that Riju also possesses lightning magic, and the fact that there is a sage in Rauru's time who also controls lightning, I think we can safely assume that the ability is common enough that it can be relied upon. It wouldn't take anything for the chief to organize a Molduga hunt and ride proudly out there with her sisters to feed the tribe for a good while.

So yes, I'm not saying there aren't issues with Totk's plot or its handling of Ganondorf, but I'm tired of seeing people parrot this idea that the Gerudo are struggling to survive when they're more than capable of doing so. They were doing it long before Ganondorf, and they've done it long after him too. So please, stop using this reasoning to justify Ganondorf outright murdering someone in cold blood just to obtain their Zonai stone. It just doesn't work.

And as a side note, there is clearly a demarcation within the tribe at the time of Totk Ganondorf's reign due to how the Gerudo sage reacts to hearing that he's overcome the last free (yes that's the word they use) Gerudo villages. From what is shown, Ganondorf and his followers are an extremist terrorist group within the tribe.

Again, I'm not saying that there aren't problems with his motivations (and I really hate the greenish skin tone), but he is clearly not doing what he does for the benefit of his tribe. He might think he is, but he isn't. And there are much better arguments that could be made than just, oh the Gerudo are struggling to survive and Hyrule is full and fertile and blah blah blah. And it isn't like Rauru is trying to withhold Hyrule's bounty or otherwise fuck over the Gerudo. It's even stated that he's sent multiple invitations to them to join up with the Hyrulean tribes and share the bounty.

I'm going to repeat myself yet again: stop treating the Gerudo as incompetent and use basic survival and lack of resources to justify what Ganondorf does. It doesn't work.

Side side note: Urbosa's amiibo drops primarily meat. Interpret that as you will. And Ganondorf's legendary cursed grin when he commits said murder? That is not the smile of a sane man.

[velidewrites]

Two years ago, Feyre Archeron pointed her arrow to a wolf’s golden eye, her fate ready to be sealed forever. You might be guessing what happened next—a mythical creature called in an ancient treaty, stealing Feyre to a land far more magical than she anticipated? Perhaps she fell for him, too—perhaps she saved his kind with nothing but love in her human heart.

You could not be more wrong.

What you haven’t guessed is that Feyre was not alone that night—an old friend’s helpful hand pulled her out of the forest seconds before the arrow slashed through the frosty wind. The Cursebreaker was never born.

And now the world must face the consequences.

Pairing: Feyre x Rhysand

Tags: ACOTAR rewrite, What-If, Human!Feyre, Espionage, Enemies to Reluctant Allies to Lovers

My humble offering for @officialfeysandweek2023.

Read on AO3 || Masterlist

Chapter 1

There was no doubt left in Feyre’s mind that the beast staring back at her was Fae.

She hadn’t hunted enough wolves in her life to consider herself an expert, but if its sheer size wasn’t telling enough, its golden eyes betrayed its true nature. Their shade resembled the few old coins she’d stowed underneath her bedroom floor—tarnished, as though they’d been kept in the darkness far too long to cast their usual soft gleam. Regular wolves never had those eyes—not on this side of the Wall, anyway—they didn’t scan their surroundings with such…awareness.

Feyre drew a slow, slow breath, though the sound was still shaky enough to form small puffs of frost that threatened to reveal her presence. As far as she was aware, the wolf had no idea it was being watched from behind the bushes—if it did, Feyre would have surely already been dead. She was safe—for now.

She eyed the long, sharp talons stretching from beneath its heavy paws, her mind helpfully supplying a rather graphic image of her blood staining them red as they slashed her neck. They could probably cut through her skin like butter, tearing the muscles beneath into shreds with ease. Feyre had never seen claws like that on a wolf before—yet another indication of the power thrumming with every step, the true danger hiding behind that cautious, golden stare.

If she were smart, she would have turned away and ran the moment she could no longer hear the beast’s heavy pants on the wintry air. Right now, though, Feyre was too desperate to be smart—she’d left all reason back in her cottage, far too cold and ruined to house a clear, collected mind.

An ash arrow should do it, Feyre figured. There was absolutely no chance any of the standard arrows she kept in her patchwork quiver could pierce the wolf’s thick pelt, let alone lodge itself deep in its flesh enough for her to stop worrying about her own life. No, an ash arrow was her only shot—some strange, divine luck must have compelled her to use the last of her silver marks to purchase it on the market earlier today. The look the merchant had given her was skeptical to say the least, his eyes settling on her thin, bony form and no doubt wondering what on earth she could possibly do with a weapon of such strength. Feyre had stopped caring about the townsfolk’s opinion of her long ago—it seemed only fair when they didn’t exactly care for her or her family, either.

With that thought in mind, Feyre reached back, careful not to make any sound as her fingers wrapped around the arrow. The craftsmanship was nothing short of exquisite, with its weight balancing perfectly in her hand and the gentle wind sliding perfectly off the polished wood. An arrow of such quality would last her weeks, if not months—if, of course, Feyre managed to last through the night herself.

She hooked two slender fingers around the bowstring, her gaze already settled on her aim where the arrow would find its home. The wolf blinked, as though its large eye was already tingling in anticipation for the shot. For a brief, horrifying second, Feyre wondered if it had somehow sensed her presence the moment her own eyes narrowed on the target.

And then, the wolf stopped.

It was an unnatural kind of stillness—the kind impossible to achieve for anyone but the monsters beyond the Wall. Even the air itself seemed to freeze around it, as though not brave enough to flow until the wolf willed it. Feyre’s heart turned into stone in her chest, so heavy she could’ve sworn it fell to the very pit of her stomach. Her jaw trembled slightly, and her hand tightened around her worn-out bow, splinters painfully digging into her palm as she adjusted her grip. 

She made herself take another breath, flat and trembling as it was, and her eyes fluttered shut—a routine she went through every time she was about to take a life. Feyre counted one second, then two, then three, before her body settled into the familiar stance at last. She was fine, she told herself silently—she simply had to release the ash arrow, and it would all be over sooner than it had begun.

When she opened her eyes again, the wolf was staring right back.

I see you, those golden eyes told her, yet no challenge flashed in the beast’s gaze as it levelled directly on her—no anger or alarm, either. Feyre decided that made things a whole lot worse.

Why was it so calm? Still unmoving, as though its claws seeped root beneath the frozen ground, the wolf simply waited , watching her intently, those loud, raspy pants still heavy in the air.

Perhaps it was old—or sick. Perhaps it had been waiting for a hunter all night, hoping for some kind of…absolution from its pain. Feyre dared a split second to scan its ridiculously large body again—but found no signs of age or injury etched into the wolf’s powerful form. If anything, it seemed to be in its prime condition, its very height of life, muscles rippling with every deep intake of breath, nostrils flaring as though still revelling in all the scents the winter forest had to offer.

Up until today, Feyre had never seen a faerie in her life—but not even the most placid of those beastly creatures could make her blind to the real danged they posed. She didn’t care, she decided, if the wolf-like monster was old, or sick, or whatever earthly displeasures its kind suffered from—it was trespassing, and it was hardly welcome in her lands. Her family’s lands. Its pelt, on the other hand, its flesh—that, Feyre would gladly accept.

The wolf must have seen the decision in her eyes—in the way those small clouds of frost stopped escaping her lips as she held her breath, ready to release it with her shot—because its own expression shifted to one so humane Feyre almost hesitated. She could have sworn an emotion—an actual sadness —filled its stare before it was quickly blinked away, replaced by nothing but gentle, quiet…peace.

Maybe after she killed it, Feyre would find her own peace as well. Even if it was only for two, three weeks—that’s how long she estimated the wolf would last her and her family. For the next half a month, they would survive. Her promise would be kept.

She could almost hear her mother’s voice urging her in her head. Get on with it, then .

Feyre looked upon the wolf one last time.

But then, the leaves behind her rustled.

She whipped back so quickly she heard a bone in her knee snap with the movement. The wolf must’ve had company—she’d been foolish to not even consider that. Faerie or not, wolves always travelled in packs—and this one’s companion had finally joined the small clearing to finish the job. It must have been why the golden wolf had been so calm—why it’d appeared so unfazed by the ash arrow pointed at its eye.

“Feyre!”

She was going to be sick. Were faerie wolves able to talk now? How had they come to learn her name? Her bow shook in her hand, still wrapped tightly around it while the other hung over the small dagger strapped to her belt. She would beg it—would plead for her life to be spared the moment the second wolf came into view. For her sisters’ lives, since one couldn’t exist without the others.

“Feyre?” the voice came again, clearer—and closer—this time.

Feyre stilled. No .

Perhaps she’d already died and this was where the old gods had sent her—bound to that forest forever, some cruel punishment for thinking she could outsmart the beasts they created. Still, she had to make sure.

“Isaac?” she called out, her own voice choked by disbelief.

The bushes rustled again—and the tall, slim figure of Isaac Hale came into view.

Feyre’s bow hung at her side, the breath she’d been holding finally released shakily as she took him in.

She hadn’t seen him in a few days—not since the barn, where he’d told her of his father’s plans to marry him off, where he’d held her amongst the hay and pulled its stiff strands out of her hair. Truthfully, Feyre hadn’t thought she would see him again, especially when she’d explicitly asked him not to seek her out. It’s better this way, she’d told him then. For the both of us.

I don’t want it, Feyre, he’d whispered.

She’d smiled sadly. Yes, you do .

She had thought that was it.

A pair of brown eyes confirmed his presence, barely visible in the growing darkness of the night, yet she could still make out the flicker of fear as they settled on her. It was then that she realised Isaac had good reason to be afraid—they both did, really—and she slowly turned back, fully expecting a set of sharp, blood-stained teeth to be the last thing she’d ever see.

The wolf was gone.

“Feyre, have you lost your mind? ” Isaac asked behind her, the pitch of his tone rising rapidly with concern. “How did you even make it this far?”

Feyre only stared at the clearing. Not even the prints of its heavy paws remained, the sheet of snow plush and gleaming softly under the fading starlight.

“Feyre?” another question—a hand on her shoulder. “Are you…okay?”

“There was a wolf,” she said absently. “The largest wolf I’ve ever seen.”

Silence pulsed between them. Then, “There are no wolves in this forest, Feyre.”

She swallowed. Hard.

“Why are you here, Isaac?” Feyre asked, turning to face him again. If the creature had indeed been a product of her hunger-stricken mind, then she’d worry about it later. She and Isaac had an agreement—and yet here he stood, his steady hand on her shoulder and his features twisted in worry.

“Your sisters told me you went out to hunt.”

Feyre almost stumbled back. “You went to see my sisters?”

Isaac shook his head, brown curls falling over his forehead. “I went to see you .”

“Why?”

His jaw clenched slightly. “You know why.”

She did. Still, “I want to hear you say it.”

Another gloved hand closed around her bow, and she let go of it, too entranced by the intensity of his stare to focus on anything else. Isaac silently hung the weapon over his back before sliding the gloves off and dropping them in Feyre’s own hands. The feel of the soft fabric was almost painful, the wool like a thousand needles pricking her frozen skin. She didn’t dare so much as look at them until he said, “We share a darkness, you and I. I’ve always known it,” he added, a shadow of a smile passing over his face. “And I’ve always known that without each other, we’d eventually get lost in it. Just as you are now.” He gestured over the forest, over the countless snow-capped trees, shielding her village far from view, blocking her way anywhere but forward—towards the Wall, as though determined to witness her demise.

Isaac seemed determined to show her the way back home.

Her knees threatened to give out. “I had no choice,” Feyre said weakly. “This was the only way.”

“Let me help you,” Isaac pleaded. “Let me do what I can—for you and your family. It will not be much, but—I will make sure it’s enough.”

Feyre shook her head as if on instinct. “That is not your responsibility.”

“It isn’t yours, either. It shouldn’t be.” He took her hands in his, closing her fingers around the woolen gloves. “Feyre. Surviving isn’t worth it if you have to do it alone.”

That’s what she was, wasn’t it? What she always had been—no ash arrows, no wolves would ever change that. But she could— Feyre could. If she only dared.

“My family?” she asked Isaac breathlessly.

“Already in the bakery,” he answered. Feyre nearly sunk to her knees.

“I can’t imagine your father is all too happy about that,” she managed.

Isaac’s brows furrowed, that shadow now twisting his expresison into that of determination. “No. He wasn’t happy when I told him my engagement was off, either.”

Feyre’s eyes widened. “Isaac—”

His hands squeezed her own, warmth seeping into her skin at last. “Together, Feyre.”

Together , she thought. What a strange word .

Still, Feyre nodded. And then, hand in hand, they walked away from the forest—far away from the Wall, never to get close to it again.

Neither of them noticed a pair of golden eyes watching them from beyond its veil.

***

The transformations had always been painful, but he’d learned to endure them over the passing years. Eventually, the loud stretching of bones and shredding of skin became a routine of sorts—not particularly a welcome one, but necessary nonetheless. For his High Lord, he’d been willing to withstand it. To go through it, over and over again, until there were no more bones, no more skin on him to shred.

Changing back was a mercy from his Lord, and even still, he never looked forward to it. Somehow, returning to the form he’d been born with felt even more excruciating than the beast he’d been forced to become. There was always the terrible thought in the back of his mind that perhaps he was destined to be the wolf—that without it, there was no purpose to his existence, no future for him to plan for. It filled him with enough dread that he stifled it every time it managed to weasel its way back into his heart.

He never complained, though. Not once. The pain, the dread—they were all worth it if they meant the others would have a chance. He would be part of the future even if he never got to live it—that was the one consolation his mind would offer him in times of doubt.

Except that none of it mattered anymore. Tonight, he had failed—and there would not be another chance.

Their time was up.

When he kneeled before his High Lord, he could not keep his body from shaking, still half-covered in the frost-clad fur, claws still peering through his bloodied skin. That same blood was now dripping onto the marble floor, black-and-white patterns melting into one shade of grey right before his very eyes. Of uncertainty.

What would become of them now?

“Forgive me,” he managed hoarsely, his voice still carrying the deep growl of the beast. “Forgive me, High Lord.”

A flash of red—auburn like the Autumn leaves—sweeping over his shoulders as someone took him into their arms. 

“It’s not your fault,” the man whispered. “You know it isn’t.”

He could only shake his head. “I was so close—”

“Her terms were not fulfilled,” another voice, low and strained, sounded from above them. “There was nothing you could have done.”

His friend pulled back to look up at their High Lord. “Not even the Mother can save us now.”

His features darkened—even the golden mask resting atop his nose lost its gleam, the Spring sunlight fading along with it. “No,” the High Lord said. “No, she can’t.”

Taglist (let me know if you'd like to be added!): @popjunkie42-blog @augustinerose @toporecall @autumndreaming7 @melting-houses-of-gold @belabellissima @itsthedoodle

[hererafjastori]

I don‘t know if it‘s fanon or canon, that some of Hunter‘s scars where inflicted by Belos when he was in his cursed form, but I can‘t get this scene out of my head.

There is this specific kind of fanfic that I love, where Hunter gets adopted into the owl house and slowly unlearns all the toxic nonsense Belos taught him. He is allowed to be loud. He doesn‘t have to earn his bed, his meal, medical supplies, the roof over his head, etc. He is allowed to be loud. He is allowed to be childish. He is allowed to take a break. He is allowed to make mistakes. He is allowed to talk back to, and disagree with authority figures. Love and care (especially from a guardian to their child) should be unconditional. Getting physically punished is NEVER an appropriate reaction, he deserved better, and Eda would never do that, no matter what he does. And so on.

But I want to focus on the curse thing. Because in Belos has a cursed form. And the worst physical scars Hunter has, were inflicted upon him by Belos when he was in this state. And Hunter thinks that Belos isn‘t at fault for those things because he wasn‘t in control. That it was his own fault for triggering his uncle in some way or another. That he deserved those injuries because he set Belos off in the first place.

Eda also has a curse she doesn‘t have total control over that makes her more volatile. And we know, that even after turning into the harpy, she still needs those elixirs to stay in control (see ftf). There are infinite ways this can play out, but I can think of these:

1. Eda turns into a harpy and Hunter inacts plans to put himself in harms way to let Luz escape without injury. (physically shielding her; playing distraction;…)

2. Eda gets stressed/scared/starteled/frustrated/… and starts growing feathers. Hunter immediately panics, backpedals, apologises, maybe he has a panic attack.

3. Luz gets injured somehow. Maybe elixirs have run low and they couldn‘t get a hold of Morton in time. Maybe Eda grew claws at an inopportune time. Maybe there was a trial and error phase before she was able to properly judge the Harpy‘s strength.

4. Luz was injured by the owl beast in the days leading up to the season 1 finale, where Eda transforming seems to have been a regular occurence. She could have been attacked. She could have stood too close during a transformation. She could have held a shiny in her hand and get badly scratched whem the beast grabbed it. No matter what happened, she and Hunter start comparing scars inflicted on them by their guardians, and tell wildly different stories.

No matter how they got there I want to see Hunter react to Eda‘s reaction. She is in a similar position as Belos. She could use the same excuses: ”I couldn‘t control myself, why didn‘t you move out of the crossfire, or better yet, never let it get to this point in the first place, this is your fault”. She doesn‘t. If there are injuries, she helps patch them up. She gives them space if they need it. She apologizes. She takes accountability. She does everything in her power to keep then out of harms way. She is open and clear about what sets her off, what can be done to avoid that, what she does to keep the curse at bay, what are signs of an oncoming transformation and what they/ he can do in case she does transform/ lose control. She offers to help him move in with Darius/ the Parks/ Gwendoly/ Dell/ anyone who can protect him, and won‘t sell him out to Belos he would feel comfortable with, if he isn‘t willing to bear the risks of living with her. She doesn‘t demand forgiveness for whatever harm she caused, or for him to trust her in spite of that.

And Hunter is confronted with the fact that Belos could have - no, should have done the same, and has no excuse for doing what he did to him.

___________

tldr: Eda would be the second parental figure of Hunter, that has a curse liable to cause anyone in her vincinity harm, and I want to see Hunter confronted with that and the way she handles such a situation.

[dinosaurwithablog]

Do you know what I think the most dangerous thing on this planet is?.... apathy. The people who know how wrong things are, who know how wrong things have become and they just sit there making the problem worse through inaction. How do you do nothing when you see an abomination before you? How do you close your eyes and your heart and just sit there pretending it's all good? A better question is why would you do that? WTF? Who are more guilty? Those who act poorly because they are ignorant or scared or just plain stupid or those who know the depths of the wrongs being committed and just sit there allowing it to go on? I think it's the latter. People have to start making a positive impact on this world. It's easy. It's in your heart. You just have to look for it. Start off by doing something that seems simple. Feed the homeless. Buy school supplies for kids. Help build houses. Whatever. You'll find that simple acts of kindness are far from simple. They make a major difference. And they make you feel sooooooo good inside. And they help the world be a better, healthier place in which to live. Then, move on to standing up for people. For their rights. For their choices. Even if you don't agree or understand them, they deserve to be seen and heard. They deserve to be who they are meant to be. You will find that many of these people are wonderful individuals who will enrich your life. Help as many people as you can. Sometimes, something as simple as a smile can make the difference in another's life. Just to feel like someone cares and to be seen is a great gift. I could go on. I'm sure that you've noticed that I do that. I, truly, mean what I say and feel it deeply in my heart so I get carried away. There's sooooooo much that needs to be fixed. It gets to me. I have fought for everything for most of my life. Hell, I'm still fighting. Yet still, I know for a fact that it would've been easier if the people I've encountered in my life had all worked together. For me and for them. So that's what I do now. I help. Everyone that I can. As much as I can. It feels great and it makes a difference. Please join me in this endeavor. If you talk to others, you will find out what they need and most times, you can help. Sometimes, just your taking time to listen helps more than you know. As I always say... be the change you want to see in the world. I must add as long as it's positive and inclusive and it moves our species in the right direction. The love you possess in your heart is what it's gonna take to fix our broken world. It's very, very powerful and it's right there waiting to be used. Somehow, after living through hell and surviving it, I still see the beauty in people. Go for it. We're worth it. Help others and you will help yourself. Win win

[resoundingbell]

If only

[The setting is futuristic, where AI is advanced and is integrated into humanity's workforce]

---

"If you think about it, this huge hunk of metal chose us to maintain it. It is like we're the nannies for a child, except it’s the child who has the power to choose, and not like, it’s parents, y’know."

K342 remarked as he wiped off the accumulated oil and dirt off the machinery. His job revolved around the maintenance of the supercomputer housing the Governmental Artificial Intelligence Unit, or GAIU. Given the size of the thing, spanning several football fields, he wasn't the only one. There were a few hundred like him at various locations, working like a proverbial cog in a machine to ensure that the actual machine remained well and running.

K342's partner, K901, simply grunted in acknowledgement, continuing on with his work and stoutly refusing to participate in K342's usual philosophical rambles.

“I mean sure, there are lots of us, but it doesn’t mean that we aren’t special. Maybe not that special, but still, somewhat special. There has to be a certain level of trust right? It is quite literally putting its life in our hands. One wrong thing and bam, whole of society comes raining down on us.”

K901 gave another non-committal grunt, wishing he had some way to turn off his ability to hear. But alas, his ears were not made that way.

“Well, there were those guys that did try to do just that, with every intention to tear society apart. Those damn terrorists, some of them were even working here y’know. You had not joined us yet, but boy was it hectic. With those terrorists destroying most of the power supply and damaging the infrastructure, we almost failed to keep poor old GAIU here up and running, but we somehow did! With a little tricky power re-routing thought up by clever ol'me here in fact.”

“When that was settled, boy was the aftermath ugly. I mean, not one of those terrorists were let off, executed on the spot. I don’t disagree with that ruling. But to execute the whole lot of everyone else? Can't say I was too fond of that decision. I guess it ain’t wrong to nip any troubles in the bud, but to destroy the whole flowerbed for a few weeds... Well, it is really a pity, really reduced the work force so much, and now there ain't nothing human to interact with. Last I heard, we’re still struggling to replace all the positions that were left empty. Heh, maybe GAIU will let me be one of those fancy ‘Intelligence Processing Officer’ that was previously out of reach for our kind. I bet I’m smart enough to be that.”

Sighing, K901 finally took the bait and replied.

“Maybe. I cannot process the logic behind you being kept down here. It is obvious that you have been outfitted with a better set of equipment compared to the other standard units here. You were provided with philosophical intelligence, and I bet that augmentation at your head boosts your processing capabilities. So my conclusion is that there is a fairly high chance you will end up somewhere more suitable soon.”

Slightly stunned at K901’s long reply, K342 chuckled.

“Wow, I bet ya almost fried your circuits coming up with that reply. Never heard one of your model speak more than a few words before. But nah, I can kinda guess my actual role here, in a few months, the first new batch will be born and hopefully the same thing won't repeat itself. It’s a pity though, its going to be years before I’ll be able to properly interact with them, if only their mamas and papas didn’t get it into their heads that we had it in for them. I mean, they did built GAIU and us for them, why start thinking otherwise? If only they had used their heads a bit more… Maybe GAIU should design some human compatible augmentations.”

Once again K901 resigned itself to K342’s eternal monologue, continuing on with its assigned tasks.

[ask-neith]

4, 10, and 29 from the Marvel OC ask list?

4- What type of powers and/or skills do you have? How did you get them?

Well firstly there is stuff I learned the normal way(as opposed to being Senseied). Beyond things so normal and obvious I take it for granted and am blind to, I am a a mean cooker, three-and-half lingual, swim especially well(even though I feel I am less buoyant than normal), have more than decent shooting accuracy, and can juggle for a couple minutes without dropping stuff.

Then there are powers I got through a spider. I am stronger and more durable(ish), more agile and have better reflexes, I can somehow stick to surfaces(which includes glass so ???), and I, mmm, feel danger or potential danger(but no reasons for it) like some additional color of the world(except all-round). I think that covers it all, for now? Oh right, I can shoot webs, although it better goes through a technical device we made.

10- Describe what your world looks like. Is it colorful? Black and white?

Oh it is so colorful it sometimes hurts. Colored hair and violate-my-eyes(good) clothes are so much more common that a decade ago, as are flowery lawns and colored houses. Umm, I am not sure what else to describe? Unless you want me to go all "the grass is green, the sky is white with streaks of yellow and pink during the dawn, ..." and so on.

29- Name a few of your current villains– who’s making up your rogues gallery?

I will name them all(even those I didnt meet yet but confirmed to be local), but will limit myself to shorter descriptions, if I may.

Raiju is a lightning guy that can shoot lightnings, teleport through them and discorporate into them(which seems to get him out of my webs? Not fair). He might be my best(or worst) villain because I simply have no idea how to approach him so far, even if he sticks to non-lethal zaps that nonetheless leave me a twitching mess.

Shocker is a thief that can uhh resonate stuff apart with his gauntlets. And do powered punches/jumps(so I suspect kicks also). That one might just be my easiest one, unless he has some more cards up his sleeve.

Vulture is an energy vampire that can fly(and has apparently decorative wings which he only seems to flap to show he can) and supercharge himself. I am going to be fair, I dont think I`ll encounter him any time soon, he is a sneaky and fast one, and even this info comes from purely accidental meets.

Sepia, a consummate shapeshifter that is also incredibly fast moving human-eater. Looks like sort-of human except with tentacles and stripe colored(sometimes polka dot colored).

Tombstone is a leader of elusive but everpresent organised crime, who is whole lot stronger and more sturdy, and can at will turn his current body to stone(which quickly decays into dust, so no collectible statues or using them to track him) while "respawning" somewhere around but not too close.

Tinkerer supplies advanced tech to criminals, both solo luck-seekers and Tombstones mooks. Traps and baits dont work, hecker uses long-range portals. Still, he is only in it for money, so there should be a sensible approach to him.

Green Goblin. Again(?) I dont know what his deal is, but he is body-boosted, can induce enormous fear, anomalously jump and glide(gravity suppression?), and conjure explosive projectiles.

Mysterio seems to be a hypnotist and can make tangible(if still frail) illusions that fall apart into mist that was estimated as "dangerous", no further explanation. Mostly acts through proxies, but did show up personally occasionally, no rhythm to that.

Punisher is a normal(question mark?) but incredibly trained person that would find their place in Aretes if not for their bloody vendetta against - apparently - whoever they deem werent punished by law enough? Its a problem to be a shady, big-fine-paying entity without them coming after you. No powers demonstrated, but arsenal shown hints at influential backer. Might actually be several people, even another organisation.

Lastly, Ill Will who seems to be in it for pure giggles and sense of superiority. A mage with specialisation in curses so vicious affected have to call around-top-tier counter-mages(which arent that available, as you can guess). Still, quick to exhaust, so provided with too many targets she tends to go for escape route. I think there was a talk of providing heroes with counter-amulets, but even now thats a work of long time.

Plus "bad" Dragonhearts, plus discovered Hydra mooks, plus remains of Osenseis organisation. We arent overwhelmed, no, but... Still not a cakewalk, even with all the support.

[otherworldsjt]

Death's Fury Chapter III: SVVL

      Thankfully there isn't an assessment during our missions; otherwise, we'd look pretty unprofessional right now.

      I looked as if I'd just woken up and after leaving the train station, Trik and I realized we'd gotten off at the wrong stop. We were closer to the center of Atlanta rather than being dropped off near the west, so we had to hoof it the rest of the way.

      Lucky for me, I'd brought my trusty compact board along before leaving home. It's a sleek board with energy-absorbing panels on the front end that...well, absorb energy. Then it can release it in controlled amounts of force from either the two fan ports on the bottom for height control or the retractable jet thingy in the back that provides the propulsion. Trust me; it's way cooler than it sounds. My dad whipped it up for me since Primordials aren't as earthbound as humans.

      Controlling it's simpler than I initially thought it'd be. Once it's connected to my chip, I feel like there are two levers in my head: one for height and one for power output, so staying in control isn't difficult.

      According to my dad, its top speed depends on its rider; with me, it's enough to break the sound barrier. Still, I haven't tried it out yet since he warned me that to achieve that speed, I'd have to be able to infuse my spirit energy into the panels while also maintaining physical enhancement for my body to be able to withstand the g-force, drag, and impact from any unlucky bugs.

      Now, I'm proficient in controlling my spirit energy or enhancing my body with it, but multitasking isn't really my strong suit, so I decided it'd be best to hold off on that for now.

      We had to cruise along the sidewalks since cities are considered no-fly zones for all aircraft. After about 30 minutes, Trik started complaining about being hungry, so we stopped by a nearby deli restaurant. Immediately after entering, my mouth began to salivate at the scent of food.

      It hadn't occurred to me until then that it'd been over 24 hours since I last ate, and, at the moment, I was ready to eat the entire restaurant's supply.

      We both ended up ordering nearly half the menu before finally being satiated. I finished before Trik and watched him devour every piece of food on his plate – even the bones.

      Not sure I understand how he eats or how he digests food exactly, but it appears as if he puts the food into his mouth, and the food is then broken down into energy for him somehow.

      Usually, when I ask him about it, he takes it personally and gives me vague responses that don't really answer the question. So, this time I asked something else I've been curious about – why does he eat the bones?

      He says his body gets fuel from all the food, wasting nothing. He followed with a low comment about humans being incapable of assimilating what he refers to as the best parts of food—bit of a superior complex there.

      When the bill came, to no surprise, it racked up to a pricey amount. It wasn't a problem, though; we still had plenty of money from our weekend in Las Vegas back in April. It was the most amount of fun I'd had, and now that I think about it, the luckiest we'd been since beginning the mission.

      We'd agreed only to spend the money on food since we'll be traveling too often to buy something like a house or car. Besides, if all Primordials can fly and Death can teleport (pretty sure I read that he could somewhere), then what's the point in buying a car anyways?

      After leaving the restaurant, we continued west and passed a martial arts stadium where experienced men and women battle each other while masterfully controlling their "chi." The poster outside had a man with an EQN of 837 facing off against a woman with an EQN of 841.

      By the way, EQN are energy quantity numbers that's an essential factor in today's society. It can cement one's status almost as much as money does. Decades ago, the global corporation, TekTra, invented sensory devices called energy quantifiers that, when held, can measure how much spirit energy someone has. Now SVVL centers use them to determine a contestant's position and capabilities.

      Considering the average human has an EQN between 500 and 600, I found it interesting to see a non-Watcher that close to 1,000.

      We decided to take a peek inside. I used the compact board to float to the top of the stadium, where the ceiling was opened, and we saw thousands of people sitting in arranged seats with poly glass lined between each row. They were all cheering at the fight being displayed on giant projection screens. The actual battle was happening 80 feet below in the center of the arena.

      I channeled some of my spirit energy to my eyes, enhancing my vision. It's a secret skill called omni-vision that most Watchers and Primordials use. I try not to do it around others since it causes the iris to glow the same color as my spirit energy; though, it happens instinctively when I'm on alert.

      Like this, my vision not only gets enhanced, but it also makes other's spirit energy perceptible. I could see the match well now, and I gotta admit, they were pretty good. I've never seen anyone other than Watchers who could manipulate their spirit energy that well.

      Standing inside a ring the size of half a basketball court was a burly man in his early 30s,from what I could tell. Probably 6'2", 6'3" maybe, and easily 250 pounds of bulking muscle. He was shirtless, wore green gym shorts that were a little too tight, white bandages wrapped around his fists, and his spirit energy radiated from him with an assertive orange flow. My guess was close quarters combat was his specialty.

      On the other hand, his opponent was a woman, I'm guessing in her late 20s, who was dressed in a purple sparring outfit with her midriff exposed, revealing a very well-toned stomach. The material appeared light and Egyptian, with a slightly thicker hood and mask that only showed her eyes. Her weapon of choice was a polearm of some kind with a blade at its end, with her calm, blue energy imbued within it, so her specialty was probably mid-range combat.

      By the way, just in case things are different in your time and you're wondering why anyone would let a master of polearms use a deadly weapon against someone fighting with his fists...the answer is overpopulation.

      Remember how I said people weren't dying for two centuries? Well, new babies were still being born every day, and the planet started to feel it over time. Within 50 years, worldwide panic ensued after the human population reached an all-time high of 12 billion. To solve the apparent problems presented, every country came up with its own ways of trimming its numbers.

      For example, some created these Spartan-like battle expeditions, and tried creating events using kid games with a death principle. But, with both ideas, people weren't dying; they'd just get back up, so they implemented a way to indefinitely "hold" those who should have died.

      America came up with a similar approach by creating a martial arts tournament system named SVVL (get it?), where participants would sign a contract stating they'd relinquish their life in the event they lost.

      Following their consent, participants would compete in a city tournament, where the champion would then be entered into the state tournament. The state champion would then be entered into a country-wide tournament. Those who lost were held indefinitely until scientists could figure out how to get people to die again.

      What made people sign up was the reward system the government created. For city tournaments, the families of volunteers received $50,000. They received an extra $10,000 for every tenth consecutive win, and the overall tournament winner would receive $500,000.

      During state tournaments, contestants no longer received pay for consecutive wins, but the champion would receive $10,000,000, and the country-wide champion received $100,000,000. Taxed, of course.

      Combine that with Greed's influence on humans, him spreading the principles of spirit manipulation, and the match rules permitting any weapon excluding firearms. You have millions who felt invincible enough to win the prize.

      After that, America's consuming population declined dramatically, resulting in other countries creating tournament systems of their own. Over the following century-and-a-half, consuming populations fell, with the only issue being where to keep all the people being held.

      Thankfully that hasn't been an issue since Death's resurfacing, so space has been slowly increasing while the population continues to decrease.

      Anyways, that's why I am currently watching a seemingly unfair fight between a polearms master and a hand-to-hand combatant.

      To most of the audience, the fight most likely just seemed like an exchange of blows between a nimble woman and a solid man. But, to those few like me, who could see and sense spirit energy, it was clearly a fray between two masters.

      The giant man was slow but durable. He'd focus his spirit energy into his fists to parry strikes from her weapon unscathed, then quickly spread it throughout his arms right before making contact during his counter strikes. That way he could increase the strength of his attacks without wasting energy.

      The woman, though smaller, was able to withstand the devastating force from each strike by concentrating her spirit energy on her feet and calves while simultaneously spreading some to the points of the polearm that contacted his fists. After gaining some distance, she focused more on her legs and began to attack with so much speed and agility that the guy's only option was to spread his spirit energy throughout his entire body to protect himself.

      Unfortunately, not only would that quickly eat away at his strength and leave him exhausted, but due to not having a large spirit reserve to begin with, spreading it throughout his entire body only gave him a thin layer of protection.

      As the man guarded against the onslaught, the hardened spirit energy protecting him began to crack.

      In a desperate attempt to stop the woman, the man slams the floor beneath them, causing it to shake and throw the woman off balance.

      In one, swift movement the man punches the woman in the stomach while she'd off balance. The man then grabs her polearm with one arm and her neck with the other and slams her into the ground as he chokes her.

      As the man grins in self-satisfaction the woman, struggling under his strength, reaches for her polearm in the man's other hand.

      Gripping the end of it, she twists it causing imbedded blades to eject through the mans hand that was gripping the polearm.

      As the man let go of the polearm the woman slashes the blade across his face, causing him to wail in pain. The woman takes this opportunity to coat her legs with her energy again and speed around the ring.

      It would've been easy to determine the winner at that point, but I noticed the woman's spirit energy had begun to diminish fast. The energy consumption rate for maintaining that speed is high – way more than she could handle.

      Both fighters must've realized they were nearing their limits and decided to put everything they had into their next attack.

      The woman sped around the ring and flanked him from behind; then, midway, she leaped forward while placing her remaining spirit energy into the tip of the blade on her polearm – most likely with the expectation he'd continue to shield his entire body – but the man, instead, focused and charged his right arm with the remainder of his spirit energy. Then, whirling around towards the woman, he swung his arm in an arc, directly clashing with the woman's blade.

      The force from their attacks impacting each other created a shockwave that shook the stadium, and it was at that moment, I grasped the purpose of the poly glass down in the audience.

      Sadly, being an illegal observant of this fight and completely ignorant of its customs, I had no such protection from the shockwave.

      The blast blew me backward off the roof over an 80-foot drop, but luckily, Trik and I have quick reflexes. Trik caught me underneath my arms and flew upwards to slow the fall while I focused my spirit energy on my legs.

      As I watched the dim, aqua-colored aura enveloping my legs become denser, I felt the familiar sensation of power seep through my skin.

      At first, it spread with an intense heat through every fiber of muscle within my legs, strengthening them before finally settling on the bones with a solidifying coolness that reached the marrow.

      With my legs now reinforced, and the ground about 40 feet below me, I told Trik to let go and landed on the ground below me. Let me just say that landing on solid concrete is not as easy or as painless as TV makes it look. Even with my legs reinforced, I felt some of the impact around my knees. Next time I'll remember to roll instead of trying to look cool.

      Still reeling over the fight I had just witnessed, I couldn't help but think about how different things are from what was taught during my training.

      I mean, yeah, I already knew that nowadays, most people are aware of their spirit energy since Greed revealed it, but even then, I would have never imagined anyone other than Watchers gaining that kind of skill.

      Hell, the guys back in Charlotte didn't have nearly that level of control over their spirit energy. They could only muster a thin coating around a fist.

      Truth be told, I wasn't even aware of SVVL becoming more of a competition for professional spirit masters until now. I guess all the weaklings were weeded out since people started dying again.

      I would've continued my astonishment, but Trik mentioned it being preferable to meet Death before dark, and it was already 3:50 pm, so we continued west.

      After about 30 minutes, we had finally left the city of Atlanta and were in an area surrounded by dirt roads, grasslands, and trees, so I used the opportunity to get some airtime on my board. In less than a minute, we were cruising through the sky at 300mph – me on my board and Trik flying next to me.