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camelliacats · 2 years

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you're nobody until somebody loves you (271-280/∞)

100-word drabbles for a range of ships. *Requests always welcome! Repeats allowed~*

Chapters 271-280: [FFN] [AO3] | ← → | start from the beginning

Pairings/Characters: Charlie Weasley/Fleur Delacour, Hestia Carrow/Hestia Jones, Lily Luna Potter/Lysander Scamander, Daphne Greengrass/Neville Longbottom, Helena Ravenclaw/Sirius Black, Albus Dumbledore/Gellert Grindelwald, Cormac McLaggen/Charlie, Lavender Brown/Romilda Vane, Penelope Clearwater/Lucius Malfoy, & Hermione Granger/Blaise Zabini

Rating: K

Words: 1,000 collectively

Additional info: romance, slash, femslash, cross gen, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, pre-Marauder era, Harry's era, Next Gen era, 3rd person POV

Summary: Song by Sammy Davis, Jr., 100-word drabbles by mew. So is unrequited love always unrequited? | Various pairings, eras, etc. Includes het, slash, femslash, cross-gen, next-gen, but nothing too bad. Read it all or only what you like!

271: CharlieFleur

After the first task, Charlie dawdled in helping to package up the dragons to return to Romania. The champions had done well enough—he'd congratulate Harry later—but Beauxbatons' star witch's performance had made him squirm. "Close call," he said when she appeared to see them off.

"A leetle fire eez no trouble," Fleur replied. But her eyes glittered with fear at the beasts behind him.

"You know, they're not as scary as you think." He smiled. "It takes training to overcome that fear, Miss Delacour."

Slowly, she returned his smile. "…I 'ave nevair been asked out over dragons before."

272: HestiaCHestiaJ

She spied jet-haired Jones in passing when she and Flora tagged along with their father on a Ministry errand. Hestia's eyes lingered on the way raucous laughter lit up the young Auror's face as she returned to the office with her ragged band of colleagues.

But Hestia's twin pinched her arm, hard, yanking Hestia's attention away. "Carrows don't mingle with Aurors for good reason," Flora reminded her sister.

Hestia knew the curse and weight of their surname. But the allure of Hestia Jones' ruby-lipped smile was enough to make Hestia consider it perhaps was time for that fact to change.

273: LilyLPLysander

Lysander has a soft heart. It's what enables him to frown at his twin's antics but say he loves him in the same breath, to speak fondly of his parents' eccentric travels, to love unconditionally.

So Lily's got to be gentle. But when has she ever learned not to be rough and tough in a household with older brothers and a family of Quidditch nuts? The Potters are a hardy family, for good reason.

…for Lysander's sake, though, she'll learn. She desperately wants to, for this sweet boy whose soft heart always has a shy smile to send her way.

274: DaphneNeville

"This place is overridden with people who do not belong."

Pansy's words stung long after the blonde abandoned her friend at the Yule Ball. Daphne knew Pansy didn't mean her but their classmates, but she felt it unfair, especially since Pansy had said that while watching Neville and Ginny dance.

Neville cleaned up so nice, too, and danced like a gentleman. It was why Daphne skirted around the Great Hall, away from Pansy… She was waiting to put her old etiquette to good use, if only Ginny would take a break and set him free for another witch's fancy tonight…

275: HelenaSirius

Helena rounds the ceiling of the Great Hall—and halts when mischievous eyes find hers. "It can't be," she breathes.

But Sirius smiles and shakes his head. "It is."

"But that means," she says with a pout, drifting closer. She touches him, and he's cold and warm at once. It's the unique sensation of a fellow ghost.

"It does, old friend," Sirius confirms. "There was…a skirmish, and I fell through something that I see now acts like a gateway." He speaks not of death, nor does he mention how his heart led him back to the castle—

—to her.

276: AlbusGellert

Gellert bristled with magic untamed. It both frightened and intrigued Albus, drawing out one visit into two into three, and the whole summer flew past them in a heartbeat. The world would wait for them when the seasons changed.

But then Gellert would smile at him. And Albus' worries would seem so much less, so far away.

Bathilda's and Elphias' concerns were inconsequential… Albus' family didn't need a say… He and Gellert had a connection that none could explain, that none had experienced before…

Gellert smiled, and Albus knew that their moments now, in this moment, were all that mattered.

277: CormacCharlie

Charlie laughs when Cormac arrives at the Dragon Plains. "So you've conquered the world of Quidditch already?"

Cormac rolls his shoulders in a casual shrug, because he's not the ickle firstie yearning to play on the same team as his senior anymore. He's Cormac McLaggen, who achieves anything he sets out to do. "Quidditch one day, Romania the next. I've got this," he states.

"That cockiness won't get you anywhere in Romania."

But Cormac eyes him with a grin; the scrutiny makes Charlie laugh and redden, but he doesn't shy away. "We'll see about that, Weasley."

"Stubborn as ever, McLaggen…"

278: LavenderRomilda

It wasn't so terrible, being vain.

Only Romilda understood it, though, Lavender wanting to cover up her wounds with the latest fashion and the hottest cosmetics and the trendiest spells. She went with her to every store and sometimes even dredged up spells that passed Lavender by. She minded the way she leaned in to the older Gryffindor, too, in case today was a painful day. Romilda understood, and she showed it.

But Lavender appreciated that, Romilda's company and ministrations and more, because not every scar was a badge of honor, even if it brought the two of them together.

279: PenelopeLucius

He's not so severe when he smiles, Penny thinks when she catches him between Ministry meetings and whispers.

Lucius is accustomed to sneering, but he's not all cloak-and-dagger-and-Galleons-slipped-to-officials as everyone thinks and he'd like others to believe. There are certain meetings he exits with a bead of sweat on his brow and a triumphant twinkle in his eye before he smiles in relief. It's a smile of triumph won through hard work of sorts.

So Penny decrees that someone who smiles sincerely and doesn't chastise her for catching him in a vulnerable moment can't be all that bad…she hopes.

280: HermioneBlaise

She didn't need an audience in the library, searching for a solution to Harry's conundrum with Slughorn. Yet, whenever she rounded an aisle, she spied Blaise somewhere in the background. Hermione sent him a pointed stare, a warning to back off.

Blaise nodded in reply but shrugged and held up his hands in a calming manner as he neared. "No need to be hostile, Granger."

"Then may I help you, Zabini?"

He snickered. "You're amusing to watch, you know. Like a storm blowing through the stacks but with a mission." He raised his eyebrows appreciatively.

And Hermione felt oddly flattered.

Remarks for—

Ch272: Me, forever in love with Hestia^2, all bc of "Trip the Darkness," *asdfghjkl*.

Ch275: Ngl, been thinking about them recently, and this premise for the Veil has me like. *eyes emoji*

Ch279: Oh, the things we want to believe when we don't know the half of it. Or, me writing more Lucius bc I love him, *lol*. *eyes all my other Lucius rarepair WIPs* Oof…

Thanks for reading, and feel free to leave an anon/unsigned review via the FFN link or comment via the AO3 link at the top of the post, especially if you enjoyed this!

~mew

And if you want to support ynusly, please swing by its FFN and AO3 versions and consider liking and reblogging these posts on my HariPo fic tumblr!

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moonlightreal · 3 years

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Fate looks toward season 2

Where you reach the bad ending, where do you go from there?

In season 1 we got the bad ending. The school had been taken over by Rosalind, Queen Luna, and Andreas, who are all extremely sus people!

Queen Luna believes in being in control, and you only get control by having power. This is most obvious in the way she tries to crush her daughter’s spirit, thinking she can force Stella to be perfect. She’s also a believer in the Sith philosophy of using hate and anger to fuel magic. Oh, and she covered up what happened at Aster Dell, which is super sketch. We’re not totally sure what did happen, but if it was “heroes destroy town of blood witches and Burned ones!’ she probably wouldn’t have needed to cover it up.

Andreas is… he’s an odd one! Is anybody else getting crazy-eyes vibes from him? His eyes are not actually crazy but there’s somethin’ off about the dude. Badass Marco mentioned him as having “bloodlust” and said it was maybe good that Sky didn’t take after his dad. Andreas respects Rosalind to the point of drawing sword on his friend to follow Rosalind’s orders. We hear from Silva that Rosalind had given Andreas a sense of purpose and he felt indebted to her. For what, I wonder.

He also seems to have hidden out of the public view for sixteen years on Rosalind’s command! I wonder where he was hiding! Was it just him and Beatrix in a cottage somewhere? Also, why did Andreas neglect his son but agree to raise Beatrix? Maybe he thought she was the chosen one, that’d be a good enough reason but B honestly seems to care for her foster father.

Also, and this is something I don’t think the show meant to imply… sometimes kids who are abused grow up to be overly sexual, since they learn the wrong kind of love from adults when they’re young. That suggests a whole ‘nother level of grimdark and I do not think the writers meant to go there. I think they just went “raised by Andreas” and “evil = slutty stereotype” and never put the two thoughts together to see the icky implications. I sure as blazes hope not! There’s dark and then there’s just ew.

And then there’s Rosalind. What do we even know about her? She was headmistress before Dowling, and mentor-slash-commanding-officer to the adults. And she knows more about magic than the teachers at the school. A lot more. She knows about the nature of the Burned Ones and the Dragon Flame, and she taught Bloom how to transform in like an hour when no fairy has done that in ages! Maybe it’s easier for Bloom, but still, Rosalind has loads and loads of lost knowledge. Where did she learn all this?

At any rate Rosalind is responsible for nuking Aster Dell, though how and why that went down is unclear. She nuked a place. And she manipulated her friends into helping without giving them the full story either. They were so upset they locked her up in stasis for sixteen years until Bloom let her out. Dowling calls Rosalind a manipulator several times, and from what we see in the show that’s spot on.

Rosalind is also happy to murderize Dowling to take over the school so they can turn everyone to Sith philosophy.

With these three at the helm Alfea will become a scary place. The baddie adults will be teaching magic fueled by anger and hate. Also, we’ve just had the first fairy transformation in ages. Will the rest of the students be pressured to transform also?

I worry the most about Stella in this situation, her heart’s already fragile after being battered by her mother for years. Stella could just collapse, especially is her mom stays around at the school. Or she could go full Stockholm and embrace the Sith ways. After all, she just tried letting friendship in and THIS happened.

And I worry about Terra, the bravest of the girls and least likely to sit down and shut up for the sake of survival. How much trouble will she get into surrounded by adults acting in bad faith?

Bloom will be Rosalind’s special student, probably under her mentor’s eye the whole time. Wonder how long it’ll take Bloom to have the awful realization that Rosalind is not her friend.

And Musa and Aisha should get a chance to shine as spies. Musa by reading minds to tell which students have accepted the Sith teachings and which have not, and Aisha I hope at least kept the magic thingy that eavesdrops on Dowling’s office. Be nice if Aisha stayed the secretary, but I bet Rosalind puts Bloom in that place.

Beatrix will be official queen bee with her two-dude harem of Riven and Dane. But the three of them could turn out to be a problem, because they’ve all had moments of not-evil. Riven is friends with Sky; what happens when the baddies threaten Sky? Or when Dane gets squeamish? Beatrix is a straight-up true believer in Rosalind and Andreas, but they’ve built that belief by making her desperate to find the truth. What happens when the truth doesn’t match what her idols tell her? Beatrix is everything she is, but she’s got a brain and there are moments when she seems to have a heart for her two fellas.

Our nice adults are in trouble. Ben Harvey is a good dude, but if he tries anything Rosalind can always threaten Sam and Terra, so he’s well and truly pinned.

Silva has been hauled off to a dungeon somewhere! I can guess that Sky and Bloom will launch a rescue mission as soon as Sky works out that his biological father is not a good dude and Silva really was on his side the whole time.

And poor Farah Dowling is dead and buried! Of course that doesn’t necessarily mean we won’t see her again. We don’t know the limits of Dowling’s powers, only that she is very badass indeed, so it seems totally possible that she could heal herself under the ground. Or she could still be alive now, having sent a magical decoy to talk to Rosalind. Dowling’s smart enough not to sit and chat with a magical baddie without taking precautions. But I think it’ll be a tree, just because Faragonda got turned into a tree once. A tree will grow on Dowling’s grave and she’ll step out of it alive.

Oh, and there are a “shit ton” more Burned Ones out there, and they’re ‘nothing compared to what’s coming”. According to Rosalind who knows a lot but lies a lot.

So our heros and heroines need to keep themselves from going to the dark side, protect Stella from her mum, rescue Silva, defeat the worse-than-Burned-Ones and rally their fellow students to kick the baddies out of their school! They have a lot on their plates!

And there will be new characters, at least one. There is no way that Netflix won’t bring a very latina Flora in after the backlash. But is there really a place for her in the story? Terra has a very different personality from Flora, so if they lean on Flora’s “gentle earth mother” side it could be ok. But really the cast doesn’t need another earth fairy. Or, might they kill off Terra? Have her die awesome protecting her father?

A black Tecna would be way more interesting, but I do not think that would appease the fandom since it’s such an obvious pander to the whitewashing accusations. Also, there’s not much emphasis on technology in Fate so there’s really not much place for her either.

I’d rather like to see Ricki come back. Stella’s bestie who Stel accidentally blinded. Is she still blind? Does she know it was an accident? Does she hate Stella now, or did her horrified family forbid her to stay in touch? Has Luna turned her against Stella, just in case the evil queen needs one more way to squeeze trauma-fueled magic out of her daughter? What’s it like being a blind fairy? We don’t know what element Ricki was, so maybe she could do the “see through the ground” thing like Toph, or as a mind fairy see through the eyes of the people around her. Ricki would be interesting! But I bet we never hear of her again.

Possibly I should write… no. Get thee behind me, plotbunnies!

But what do you think? What do you think the baddie adults will do to the school? How do you think the students will react? Do you think Dowling is alive? Who will Netflix add to the cast to try and calm the angry fandom, and who do you wish they would? Are you glad we’re getting a season 2 or would you rather just let this part of Winx Club’s history vanish in the rearview mirror?

#fate the winx saga

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bigkyle990 · 4 years

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A Witchy Pirate part 2

And hear we have an event one year later, the Arc Crew getting involved in one of the more important events in the One Piece world, following just Luz’s side of course. There is some blood and character death(not anyone people actually care about, hah) in this one, so please beware. It’s not to graphic, but still feel it’s best to warn you. You can also read Part 1 Here Once again, please continue under the cut for the new piece and enjoy

One year later

The seas of the New World were a turbulent place on any normal day. Unpredictable weather, swarms of monsters deep beneath it’s sapphire waters, and chaotic ocean currents abound at any given time between its many islands.

Today however, a far more chaotic event is taking place near the beginning of this half of the Grand Line.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

The crashing water as cannon fire rang out among the waves of the sea, a pitched battle taking place between a group known as the Blackbeard pirates against the remnants of the Whitebeard Pirates and The Arc Pirates. The latter joined in after the pair of crews began their battle. Luz dodged past a spear strike and swung her hands out, twisting them and forming a glowing red glyph before she shot her hand out. The glyph began to glow brighter, spiraling in on itself before releasing a burst of flame on her attacking opponent, who quickly dodged out of the way and laughed. “Murunffuffuffu, you are one fiery young woman.” One Caterina Devon laughed as she landed a bit a ways on the massive logs of the Blackbeard Crew’s ship and spinning her spear. “Your head will make a wonderful start to my new collection!” She smirked charging in again in an effort to drive her spear into the young Wild Witch, only to be met by the stopping force of a new Glyph. One that not only halted her attack, but blew the massive 11 foot woman backward. “Yeah right, like I’m gonna let you get anywhere near my head, you crazy bitch!” Luz yelled, clearing out the Impact Glyph and slamming her hands down on the ship below her. A new glyph formed, a large green one, causing the wood beneath to splinter and grow into new branches that shot out, attempting to ensnare the woman.

She watched, annoyed, as Devon dodged between the branches easily. “Haki, I should have guessed…” Luz growled, before her own senses tipped her off and she swung up a hand, calling up a shield between her and the loud clang of a blade. “Damn it Vista! Keep your opponent on your side of things!” Luz yelled. She was currently holding back a large looking man in a jailor hat and clothing, along with a still smoking cigar in his mouth. The man grinned pushing against her shield, something she had to reinforce by putting her own Armament Haki into it, turning the shield from it’s normal dull orangish color, to a far darker orange. Her struggle didn’t have to last long though, as a wide chested man dressed in a top hat, cape, and fine looking clothing dashed in with his blades, swiping at her aggressor and causing him to retreat back, landing next to Devon who wasn’t far away. “My apologies, Wild Witch.” The new man grinned as Luz’s shield fell and she got up, ready for the next attack. “This Shiryu of the Rain is a much more slippery opponent than I expected. He was able to distract me just enough to get away.” “No worries Vista.” Luz said, flinging her hands out as she coated one in flame and the other in ice, gripping them both to create blades of each element. “It feels like everyone on this asshole’s crew is good at being a bit tricky.” She paused as they all heard a beasts roar and a large man’s howl of pain, looking over to see the massive form of Sanjuan Wolf being bombarded by a large purple and green dragon’s flames. “Okay, except the one Spike is fighting right now, that guy seems a bit slow in the head.” “Yes, Wolf was never well known for being a clever man. Still.” Vista stated as he focused on their enemies. “I thank you and your crew for standing with us in this fight. I fear we would not be fairing as well if you hadn’t stepped in.” “Don’t thank me, thank Jaune, he was on the old man’s crew before splitting off to make his own, said that he was still family and couldn’t let what Teach did go unpunished.” Luz said, before charging back into the fight itself. “Haha! Well said, glad Arc never truly left us!” Vista grinned, charging in right after her.

The two took to fighting together on this from now on. Working their best to keep up with each other and put the pressure on their opponents. Devon was more of a mind to be cautious as the two showed signs of working together, Shiryu deciding to charge in and beginning to battle the two. Vista would quickly come in with his blades, looking to occupy the former Jailor of Impel Down as Luz worked to get around his guard, swinging her blades of ice and fire on the man. Though she made sure to keep her eye on Devon. A smart plan as the tall woman attempted to attack them from behind multiple times, either blocked by Vista’s blades or Luz, the latter nearly burning her spear in her hands and even able to form ice around her hands. Painfully sticking it to her grip.

That was able to get Devon off the fight long enough for both Luz and Vista to press on Shiryu much more fiercely. Driving him back as he found himself covered in cuts, burns, and even froze parts of his joints. “You think this will end me! I survived far worse in Impel Down, you fools.” He growled, adrenaline pushing him further as he began to charge them. Luz moved forward first, hand glowing an icy blue as she quickly drew a large Ice glyph in the air and moved out of the way. Right behind her Vista came forward blades crossed in front of him, before swinging them out towards the Glyph and releasing an air pressure blade that broke into what looked like a flurry of rose petals. When they came into contact with Luz’s glyph, they froze immediately, becoming a flurry of frozen petals of ice that shot towards Shiryu at a speed he couldn’t dodge. The man’s eyes widened as he tried to block as many as he could with his own blade. Slashing and blocking at each that came in, but they were far too fast for him to keep up with and began to feel the frozen blades dig into his body. Biting back a scream he crossed his arms over his head, only to feel them start to stiffen. The blades were freezing him from the inside, his body quickly becoming more rigid with each passing second, until he could no longer move. He stood, frozen in place and dead to the world. Vista panted a bit and smirked. “Not bad Noceda, like that little combo you came up with…” He stated with a light grin as he tried to catch his breath from the fight. “Thanks, thought it would be effective.” She grinned, only for both of them to be shocked as Luz suddenly found a spear run through her stomach and coughing up blood. “Murun Ffu Ffu Ffu… A pretty thing like you… Shouldn’t be working so hard.” Devon smirked as she lifted Luz off the deck of the ship they had been battling on, savoring the look of pain and anguish on her face. “Noceda!” Vista yelled, charging to save the young woman, only to be bashed aside by said woman’s body being swung into him. “Keep out of this ‘Flower Sword’.” Devon smirked before looking back to Luz. Luz panted, grunting in pain as she gripped the shaft of the spear and glared at Devon. “I thought… You… Wanted my… Head…” She spat out, venom drenching her words. “Oh I do, make no mistake.” The taller woman drew her in closer, a sick smile growing across her face. “I just don’t want to ruin it before I can collect it… Murun, Ffu, Ffu, Ffu...” Luz looked up to her, eyes still showing fight in them as she grinned, a small trickle of blood coming from the corner of her mouth. “Too bad… You should have aimed higher…” She held up her hand, a glowing yellow glyph having formed that she quickly crushed just as it became coated in Haki. “Sparking…” Lightning shot from the shattered glyph, shooting into the air, shocking Devon enough that she let go of her weapon, Ice having been removed by force. “Ragnarok.” Luz finished as a mass of lightning coated black with her own Haki shot down, striking Devon and making the woman scream in absolute pain as 300 million volts shot through her body, scorching the wood of the deck underneath her. When the strike ended, Devon’s body was shown, completely blackened by the heat of the strike and crumpling down to the deck. Another member of the Blackbeard Pirates was gone. Luz picked herself up as Vista made his way over to her, watching as she coated her arm in haki and broke off the long end of the spear. “Best to keep that in for now… Don’t want you bleeding out before we get you to a doctor.” He said with a slight chuckle and helped her to her feet. “Yeah… Bella wouldn’t be happy about that…” Luz giggled weakly, coughing up more blood from the action. “Ugh, this sucks… But better than dead I guess…” “That it is, now hold on for me, not unwounded myself…” Vista grinned as they made their way for a doctor.

_ Time passed and the remains of the war came to an end. Luz herself had been sidelined by her injuries for the remainder, but she knew she did well in how things had gone for her. The remaining members of the Blackbeard pirates had been killed, both Jaune and Marco the Phoenix taking “Blackbeard” Teach’s head in its final moments. What forces that remained retreated upon seeing their captain and all their officers slain. Though that didn’t leave their side without it’s losses. Something that would be mourned later, but for now they celebrated their win. A battle that only lasted a single day, but still held ramifications for the lands of the New World on who would stand above others. History would later name this battle the Payback War. A war started by the remnants of the Whitebeard pirates attacking the Blackbeard pirates in a drive for vengeance for the death of their late captain Edward Newgate. A war that they would have lost, had it not been for the intervention and alliance of the Arc Crew to turn the tides of fate in their favor.

#writing #fanfiction #fanfic #mass crossover #Owl house #one piece #OnePieceau #luz noceda #Lumity #blood warning #death warning

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aliypop · 3 years

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A Knight’s Lust

Wordcount: 1,970

Warning: Smut, language

A/N: Chapter 6 to The Element Of Destiny

"Expecting someone else... Adina asked, discarding what was Geralt's old shirt behind the dressing divider. Geralt only laughed, his fondest memories following along with that shirt. "I was expecting you to explain what you meant.." he said, standing in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. "You're smart: figure it out.." she peered her head out from behind the fabric.

"Would it kill you to be direct.."

"Would it kill you to knock.." Adina suggested stepping out in her gown. The moon was highlighting her skin ever so softly. And Geralt for once had felt as if he'd be bewitched. "Were you waiting for me to ask.." Geralt mumbled: a bit embarrassed that the sight and smell of her were nearly bringing him to his knees. "It would have been the right thing to do.." she laughed, her curls still wild on her head, just as they did when they were longer. "Why's that.."

"I assumed everyone else asked for their turn with the witcher.." she got closer to him, "Why not the witcher ask me.." Adina whispered in his ear, her body pressed against Geralt's. She could feel his heart nearly pounding in his chest and his eyes aglow with lust.

"Ask you.. after what you said.."

"And what did I say, Bellegarde.." pinning him down to the wall,

"Something about how a princess and a dumb mutant.." he grabbed her by the waist,

placing her where he once stood, he had begun to smell the sensation of her pooling need for him that was arising.

"I've changed since then, Geralt.." her eyes focused on lips.

"How.."

"Like this.." Pulling him by the folds of his shirt. Adina latched her lips to his, bodies pressed against each other like the waves to the sand. The kiss between them had spoken far more words than they did collectively together. Hiking up her nightgown, Geralt couldn't help but feel the need to take her right there against the wall. Pressing his fingers to her wanting folds, Everyone who had ever been with Geralt would tell you he was a tease, but Adina didn't think that meant teasingly slow. Whimper at the rough touch he had, she wanted more: she wanted him. "Geralt Plea-" her plea for more was cut off. To the feeling of Geralt's tongue mapping, it's way across the wet wanting bud. Hands tangling into snow-white strands, Adina was already getting closer, her head against the cold stone walls. And the face that Geralt always knew too well.

"And to think you were with a succubus .."

"Shut up.." Adina growled, pushing Geralt to the bed, straddling him just like she did before when he accepted sweet defeat. Loving the view she had under her, Adina knew that she had to pay him back for the simple teasing he caused her. Rubbing against Geralt's bulge, she could feel the Witcher twitch under him.

"Coming undone already.." she nibbled on his ear, hearing his grunts and mews. To think that she had a wolf cowering like a puppy.

"Fuck you.."

"I've been waiting on you to!" she bit her lip, adjusting to his length. Her eye's nearly seeing double while Geralt only had his usual shit-eating grin plastered on his face. Meanwhile, down in the keeps, Lambert and Eskel were getting enjoyably drunk and playing Gwent.

"So you and Adien.."

"So you and any brothel you can get your hands on.."

"Touche.." Eskel smirked, putting down his card that had Vesemir on it. Spring was approaching fast, which usually meant they went back on their paths hunted monsters. And would return yet again another winter which always made them feel like birds but backwards on the migration pattern.

"Did you hear something.."

"Probably Geralt.."

The feeling of Geralt's hand embrace her neck made Adina go wild. As his hips nearly pounded into the knight, he knew there wasn't anyone else he would want to do so roughly but the princess in front of him. " Harder!" she mused and moaned, feeling the witcher pulling on her curls. Adina was in a state of euphoria. Hearing the sound of their skin slapping together and their sweat colliding, she didn't want it to end.

"Oh Fuck.. Oh, Gods, Geralt!" her voice cracked as her walls tightened around his length, nearly milking him dry as he filled her up, making her full and whole of just him. "Was that more than you imagined it to be.." Geralt asked, a genuine look of joy on his face.

"Beats those nights alone when I wished you were there.." she turned to look at him, placing a sloppy kiss by the corner of his swollen lips that still lingered with her sweet taste. Their breathing was in-synced, eyes focused on each other. When the morning came, Geralt was right next to her. Bodies entangled in each other while their clothes laid askew across the floor.

"Oi Dina... Have you seen pretty boy mcshitface!" Lambert nearly shouted from outside her door. Adina grumbled, noticing from the shadow of the sun that they had slept past the morning. Something they barely got to do.

"Well, I.." she began to answer, feeling the weight of the bed shift.

"Fuck off, Lambert.." Geralt growled, poking his head out the door. Lambert only looked at Adina then back at Geralt as he smirked. "You lucky bastard.."

As the final winter snow had melted, both Adina and Geralt packed up their horses and were on their way. "Strip Gwent next winter?!" Adina shouted back. As Geralt turned a bit red: Eskel and Lambert only nodded while Vesemir shook his head, still wondering how the two witchers were still so childish. As Buttercup and Roach began to trot in the spring dew, the two couldn't keep their eyes off each other.

"Geralt... "

"Hmm.."

"Did you make sure you made enough potions.." she asked, trying to strike up a conversation. Traveling through the woods of Posada, she remembered all too well about the time she saved Geralt from the Striga. "Yeah.. why .."

"I might have to save your ass from a Striga again.. or Drowners." she pointed to the lake, hearing Geralt laugh. "That was.."

"Right here.." she finished his sentence. However, things weren't what they seemed.

Back in Abbinshire, the king had a mighty plan to rid of every witch that he could. Sitting in her cottage was Tithuba, who was awaiting the return of Adina. As the witch paced back and forth, she could hear the distant footsteps of "Clarion.. " her heartbeat racing in fear, mustering as many spells that she knew in her mind. "Guards!" his voice rang out from behind the wooden door. "Shit.. think of something quick.." raising her hands: she mumbled under her breath, " Portauro Padli." a black orb coming from her hand. When the door swung open, she was faced to face with her deepest fear. Sword in hand, he was ready to kill anyone who had housed the beast and that wretched knight.

"Where are they.."

"No, hello .." she smirked, her eyes turning into those of a dragon. Clarion snarled at what was once his wife as he took a step further towards her. "You should be dead.." he growled, his sword of sliver pressed against her neck. Tithuba knew that one day she would meet fate's end, but it wouldn't be today.

"Now where are they, Tithuba.."

"Right here.." the voice of the knight reaching the ears of her father. Clarion only turned to see the disgrace of what everyone once called a princess. "You are nothing but a child of surprise.. nobody wants you.." Clarion laughed, throwing Tithuba across the floor of the cottage. Geralt ran to the aid of the witch, watching the hurt and fury that was behind Adina's eyes. Her blade sharp and her teeth sharper were the looks of the true warrior.

She was the granddaughter of the golden dragon she had once worn as her crest. And it was time she started acting like it. Clarion couldn't help but smile while unsheathing his sword: in front of him was his very own flesh and blood, while behind him was the monster that he used to strike fear in her heart. Casting a spell that made Tithuba wallow out in pain and hives, he had one more thing to say.

"How does it feel losing the best thing that ever happened to you.." he asked, referring to himself.

Adina lunged forth towards him, blocking the hit with a cut between their blades. "Depends on what you mean.." she laughed, thinking back to her training over the winter.

" If you kill me, you lose everything you've ever known.."

"The fear you installed in me.." Adina asked. She felt the tip of her blade slice into her shoulder. Still keeping up with his footwork, she continued never wavering once: until her sword flew from her hand and near the door. "Sorry princess, but I'm going to have to ki-"

Adina felt in control, kicking him off her, just as she did Geralt and Lambert when they ambushed her. Clarion backed away, his nose bloody as he doubled over.

"You learned from those dirty vagabond mutants.." he then slashed her in the side. Watching the pain subdue her, he balled up his fist as she curled into a ball. The seal on her back still having power over her. Boils popping and the smell of burning flesh lingering as hot golden tears streamed from her dragon eyes, the same one now peering at her.

"STOP IT AT ONCE!" bright red and orange flames engulfed Adina in an embrace like a hug. Golden wings off fire appearing from behind her. Stretching her hand out, Clarion levitated off the ground and eye to eye to Adina. Throwing him aside like a child and a useless toy, she could only feel the blood of her ancestors drive deep into her veins. " Araiatis Vesperinius." she watched as the blood from his body separated from him. Geralt was amazed at the beautiful harshness that was Adina. From the fire around her to the orange spark in her eyes. He could see that destiny brought them together. Clarion's body fell limp to the ground as she discarded his blood into a vile.

"Long live the queen.." Geralt smirked, glancing over at Adina.

"How long were you standing there.." She asked, wearing a bloodied gown that resembled the scales of a dragon. Holding onto her ribs, Geralt walked her over to Tithuba's table. Adina removed the dress as she began to wrap up her wounds. A pair of rough hands halting hers.

"Geralt.."

"Let me stitch you back together for once.." he laughed,

"I can do it myself.."

"Don't be so stubborn.." he began taking the needle to her ribs, ghosting a few fingers on her flesh. Adina bit down on her lip, seeing that Geralt wasn't going to give her anything to numb the pain.

"You're doing it wrong.." she mumbled,

"How would you do it..."

Wrapping up her shoulder, she started the bandage from her torso. Wenching from the added pressure, Geralt took the rest finishing the job for her. His warm hands felt great for the little bit of blood she was losing. Leaning onto Geralt's chest, she felt at ease.

"Hey, watch it!" she joked.

"You act as if we didn't just fuck during the winter," Geralt mentioned, tilting her chin to steal a kiss from her. Adina smirked, one hand in his hair the other on the table. "You act as if we didn't before we even got here," she whispered breathlessly.

"What's taking you two so long!" Tithuba shouted, a bit in pain.

"Oh, shit.." Geralt looked at Adina.

"What did you do.."

"The herbs.."

"Fuck.."

#the witcher oc #the witcher oc fanfiction #the witcher fanfiction #the witcher fandom #geralt fanfic #geralt x oc #new chapter #witcher oc #eskel #lambert #kaer morhon #kaer morons

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datboyyeet · 4 years

Text

The revenge of a human

MURDER HARASSMENT MUTILATION TORTURE SPOILER; maybe things could have been so different but it was surely a stroke of fate, such a cruel fate. Ever since Mc arrived at the Devildom he had been living through hell, sorry for the bad puns. Diavolo had assured him that nothing would happen to him, what a sweet irony. First, he was assigned a greedy demon who spent his time reminding him that he was just a futile human, then he nearly got himself killed by Levi, all for a silly contest. Mc had not slept that evening, a fear in his stomach. When he was at RAD he felt as brave as a rat, even a rat was more valuable than him. Mc, unlike Solomon, had no power and was human, no defense. He was laughed at, they insulted him, jostled him, certain demons scattered their things. Mc had tried to talk to Lucifer about it but Lucifer told him not to pay attention to such minor details. Hell, even Simeon and Luke weren't so bothered, they had powers as angels but MC? With no power? Nah, no peace. At first MC could support him, it wasn't enough to make him mentally crack. RAD's homework was more complicated than MC thought, and no matter how much Satan spent hours helping him study, MC's grades were really ... low. Diavolo even tried to help but nothing helped. Lucifer was giving lectures saying that he was wasting everyone's time, that Diavolo tried to lower the academic difficulty for a miserable human. That evening, MC spent the night revising, the pages spotted with tears, it was the same for the nights to come. He would stop sleeping, hoping to improve his mediocrity. To succeed, he panted with each drowsiness a cutter on his bare thigh, keeping him awake. When this system was no longer working, he stole a book from Solomon, then using a potion that replaced sleep and those just delusional. He felt like he had slept, but he didn't. No one noticed his fatigue, when Satan noticed it, Mc got away by saying that he had simply played on his DDD too late, then being argued by Lucifer. When Lucifer attempted to kill Luke, which MC stepped in, determined to save Luke and Beel and Lucifer took on MC, it was the first tear. He had woken up from his confrontation in complete panic, still feeling Lucifer's blow in his ribs. Sweatily, he made a decision by making the pact with Beel; he was going to earn Lucifer's respect ... For that, he was going to help Belphegor. If only it could have been that easy. The following days, the following weeks, were alike. RAD demons seemed to increase their mockery, MC got words telling him to hang himself, demons were hitting them in the ribs. Simeon had suspected that something was wrong, he tried to talk about it with MC but the human being was good at lying, keeping their harassment to themselves. MC tried not to think about it, which worked fine, his grades were going up, there was hope. This hope was shattered .... When Belphegor grabbed his throat, MC was terrified. He realized his human naivety, his weakness. The pain was so great, her cry was lost in the air as her head rolled down the stairs, now detached from her body. To be honest, he would have preferred to rest there in the light, he felt good but Lillith didn't hear him that way, did he? He was torn from paradise to return to Hell. Except this time he didn't think he was going to be able to overcome it. When he woke up, he was sprawled on the stairs, suffocating, swimming in his own blood. This sight never left his mind. Raising his hand to his blow, he still felt the pain, the death, his death. Glancing at the brothers, he told himself he had to be strong. Second tear. When everything was explained, Belphegor had been calmer, the brothers less demanding because MC was the descendant of Lillith, or had they on the contrary become more demanding? Whatever MC did, nothing was perfect, he was Lillith's descendant, HE HAD TO BE PERFECT. These thoughts were muddled and yet MC didn't want to believe it, the brothers loved him because he was him ... right? After his murder, when MC could sleep again, he was unable to. He would wake up screaming, seeing his murder on repeat. The demon brothers were laughing at him, Belphegor stood still, MC couldn't just forgive him? MC was doing too much. MC was a crybaby. MC was looking for attention. Lillith would have been indulgent. That everyone made mistakes and that they had to be forgiven. Third tear.It was the descent into hell for MC, or else this descent had already started since their arrival. He was no longer sleeping, starting his potions again, his notes were relapsing, Lucifer assailed him about it, he only ate to vomit behind. When he went to RAD, he got hit, the harassment skyrocketed, he came back with a broken arm. He was trying to hide all of them, to be strong and even with the seven strongest demons by his side, he didn't feel safe, he never was. IT WAS NOTHING. A HUMAN VULGAR UNABLE TO DEFRENDER. He was nothing. nothing. nothing. nothing. nothing. The silver blade of the knife drew red lines all over his body and even increasing the depth, increasing his features, MC still felt hurt in the heart ... Everyone around him was drowning him, MC was dying slowly. He wore a smiling mask all the time, during Lucifer's arguments, the brothers' general criticisms, his comparison to Lillith, to her stalkers ... to his tormentors .... And in the evening, he would start his blood dance all over again. . When that wasn't enough, he started to swallow ink, vomit the ink and he started to laugh, he was so pathetic. One night it broke down. It was the day too long, he was now empty of all emotions. After a day in hell, he rather got up from the meal, saying he was no longer hungry and went to sleep, sleeping only 3 hours but it was the most restful 3 hours of his life. He woke up, smiling broadly. In the greatest discretion, he took a bag, which he put on his chair, he took snacks that he had stolen the day before, he took ink, a work of Satan, another of Solomon, then taking his knife and jewelry from Mammon and Asmo, which he had also stolen. He put it all in the bag, not bothering to take off his shoes. It was in the deepest of calm that MC left the mansion. Once outside he began to run as fast as he could, once far enough he put a hand to his pact marks and ordered "DON'T FOLLOW ME! BE UNABLE TO FIND ME". The marks shone and in that moment the brothers all felt their marks beating like a heart. They tried to find MC but they were unable to, the pact prevented them from being able to find and follow her. Alert, Lucifer called Diavolo.MC was looking for a witch. He had learned that a witch could grant any wish, as long as it could be paid and very often, these wishes were black with vengeance, to the point that Diavolo had to considerably limit these practices, to see them brought to justice. This witch would help MC become what everyone wanted, MC would finally become perfect. The road was long, he took 3 days to get there, eating only ink. During this time, Diavolo tried the impossible to find him but MC was far enough and besides, he had arrived in front of the house of the witch. He was knocking, almost laughing. The witch was staring at the weak human in front of her but this human was strange, he was pale, his mouth black ink, smiling almost inhuman:"Make me perfect," he said.- Lose your humanity, she replied.He accepted. He gave her all his possessions, to pay the witch decently. The latter then took him to his cellar, undressing him, placing him in the center of a pentagram, handcuffing him, on his knees, to the five ends of the pentagram. She lit five candles one by one, picking up an old dusty grimoire. A strange dragon-headed knife was in his hands. She began to whisper recitals, the air would change, which did not seem to bother her. Walking slowly around MC, she continued to recite, only to plunge her blade into MC's back. The latter bit his lip. The witch lowered her blade and slashed a second slash, as if an angel's wings had been ripped off. With her blade, she made several cuts on MC's body, including several symbols. She continued her recitals. She took a bowl of ink, which she spilled on Mc, the ink seeped into the wounds, making him cringe. The witch began to scream her recitals. The pentagram lit up, black flames burst out, to devour MC's body. The latter was in pain, he felt something change in him, something was pushing from his back. He let out a howl of pain, so intense that even the brothers felt it. Each of their sides, as they tried to find MC, they felt their torn apart. Their hearts were pounding, the place where their wings made them suffer excruciatingly.A few days later, when they were at a standstill, Diavolo invited them to the castle, saying that MC was coming, that demons knew why MC had disappeared. The brothers were tired when they arrived at the castle. Mammon felt the worst. The meeting point was the ballroom, with its stage, its piano. There were a lot of people, Lucifer then asked Diavolo for explanations, why RAD students were here? Diavolo shrugged, saying that MC had said do this for everyone to know about his disappearance and to invite those specific demons. Then the lights went out one by one. The stage curtains were closed and the sound of a piano was heard, someone was playing. A voice arose, Mc. At that precise moment, the curtains opened to reveal a transforming MC. MC had medium black hair, black eyes, a classy black suit, a white shirt with a small black sleeveless jacket and black pants ..... and horns with angel wings ?! looked weird but his skin was as white as snow, he was literally black and white: - Strong, strong, long ago, a young human was so pure, He was so pure, a lovely Angel. But then we took him to hell! And he was broken ... But now honey, I'm in the spotlight. Jazz music was heard. The curtain closed on MC. Music flooded the hall. No one understood what was going on, everyone was shocked to see MC like that .... had he become a demon? The curtain reopened on MC dancing, the music continued, a microphone in front of him: - One two Three I'm a demon from heaven Oh look, looks like Henry is on a date, MC sang, stroking Levi's hair. He had magically appeared next to him, making him jump, then MC had magically found the scene. Oh let's have a little fun! The smile that Mc displayed was confident, with a sadistic confidence, the Brothers could not move, stunned. MC was a demon. As MC sang, outside, backstage, something was going on that even Barbatos couldn't predict: - We have dirty little bitches in heat, Come with me on this cozy cloud, MC was pointing Asmo this time. To be a perfect angel, you sometimes have to make small sins, MC sang in Simeon's ear. The angel was trying to catch MC but MC was already on stage again.Lucifer not wanting this masquerade anymore, tried to catch it but MC appeared on a divant, in a dramatic pose, still smiling, completely proud of his show: - You always tell me what to do and what not to do, I couldn't escape this hell, Unable to stand in front of you, This time Mc found himself next to Lucifer before returning to a second divant. You called me weak, human, As it hurt me, MC then pointed to Mammon completely satisfied with the lost gaze of the avatar of greed. Demon women, in the same guise as MC appeared on stage, singing "Palalpala Pala pala pulila papa". MC appeared on stage again walking, twirling a cane: - But it's all over, I will show you, Open your eyes, Because now I take control! I'm on stage You can't cage me anymore You no longer control anything! Focus on me! All eyes are on me!Dancing, the curtain closed again, the women appeared on the couches, continuing to sing. The music was in full swing. Everyone understood their reason here, no matter how MC got in or changed, MC wasn't there just to sing along. Out of sight, something flowed in the shadows, surrounding the castle. MC appeared on stage, this time ink was flowing from his eyes but he continued to smile and disappeared again. Ink was dripping from the ceiling forming a puddle: - So many tries, So many mistakes For your satisfaction, I spent many sleepless nights In the hope of satisfying you, To him looked like, be perfect! MC emerged from the ink, the face ... ink was streaming from his eyes, still dancing, smiling: - But I finally found the way To be perfect !!!It was awful to see, ink was dripping from his white body. Luke was pulling back, scare, how is that possible ???? - I swallowed so much ink, I devoured so many books, A witch helped me achieve the perfect shape! I am close to perfection! I'm like you now An unfeeling and perfect heartless demon, A being made of ink He appeared in random places, ink streaming from him, his face. When he appeared next to someone, it screamed, we tried to catch him but only ink was what they could catch. MC appeared on the table, a glass of ink in his hand: - You told me to forget my own murder, You said to forgive, You selfishly wanted your sister! You ordered me what to do, Even though I was traumatized! , MC threw the contents of his glass at Beel, disappearing onto a couch. You told me that I was not good enough That I only wanted attention while I was in tears !, MC Pointed at Satan and ink flowed over him, the latter tried to catch MC but the demon made of ink appeared on the chandelier. - MCCCCCC !!!!!! Screamed the seven brothers and Diavolo - You, You took my future without hesitation! All this for a vulgar story of revenge! But all that will change Dirty murderer, MC looked at Belphegor with a big smile. Focus on me! As Mc's face returned to normal, ink was flowing again. Everyone tried to run away, out, standing on his stage, MC snapped his fingers and the doors closed. Ink blocked all the entrances, impossible to exit, no escape. Luke was crying, supported by Simeon. Solomon tried all the spells they knew with Satan, but that was a new power. The other brothers tried with Diavolo and Barbatos to attack MC but their attacks did not hit him, he disappeared even before the attack was launched. MC's face was normal again: - Oh no no! Don't run away! There is no escape! I would be all they wanted! Now look at me all! All eyes are on me. MC was dancing, as ink slowly dripped from the ceiling and quickly everyone was up to their ankles. Outside, eruptions of ink were erupting. MC wanted to make them suffer, to drown them as he drowned. Then all of them turned black. The music had stopped. On the stage, a light illuminated Belphegor, attached to a chain by anti demon chains. He was struggling but the chains hurt him. A black shape appeared behind him. Ink flowed from MC, not a single piece of skin was spared. The ancient human put his hands on Belphie's shoulders, using his ink to immobilize him and slowly he put his hands up to the neck of the demon: - I suffered so much through your fault, You were the last straw Are you destroying me and asking me to stop being afraid? To be traumatized? WHEN I woke up every night to the feeling of your hands squeezing my neck? I will show you, I will make you suffer! MC squeezed his hands, choking Belphie. It was with such force that Belphie believed his head was going to come off his body if MC hadn't shoved his chair, hiding him on the ground. Beel tried to save his brother, all the brothers in the form of demons, unfortunately the ink covered every part of their body, leaving them only the head. The other demons were drowned in ink, dying in turn. Solomon also saw himself attached to Simeon. MC had gone mad. He put his hands around Belphie's neck again:- The memories you left me made me ... You are driving me so crazy! I will destroy them all!And Belphegor's head came off his body, accompanied by the cries of demons.

#obey me #headcanon obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me lord diavolo #shall we date diavolo #fic obey me #lucifer obey me #simeon obey me #obey me barbatos #obey me mammon

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hiddendreamer67 · 5 years

Text

Mandy in the Multiverse

Summary: Mandy the writer witch doesn’t know what to write for her prompt, so she goes searching back through her plethora of AUs for inspiration and accidentally stumbles into a few others as well.

(Shoutout to @callboxkat, @lefaystrent and @delimeful for letting me reference their works in this!)

October prompt #23: Witchcraft.

Check out more of my writing at @hiddendreamerwriting!

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Mandy sighed, laying on her back and tossing her pen in the air to catch again. It was dull, lacking the usual shine of inspiration. It seemed she was quickly burning through her magic supply this month.

Her eyes traveled over to the portal, humming in the corner. Several portals, actually. An entire wall of infinite portals, each leading into a different dimension she had created. But what did it matter? All the portals in the world wouldn’t help the young witch find a good story idea. She needed a new portal.

Mandy paused, catching her pen one last time. Or…she could always do a sequel. And for that, a quick lil’ inspiration trip wouldn’t hurt anyone, right?

“I’ll just pop in for a second.” Mandy grinned, already grabbing her cloak and sprinting through one at random.

A bright light flashed, forcing her to cover her eyes. She blinked the spots from her vision, peering around to find… a pet shop?

“Oh, tiny mers.” Mandy hummed, walking through the aisle ways. “Not exactly original, but-”

“Can I help you, gurl?” Remy the sales clerk interrupted her musing.

“Oh, hey Remy.” Mandy gave a disinterested wave, not even looking over as she peered into the empty tanks. She sighed. “Man, this is so boring. There’s not even anything happening here. Well, except with the cats.”

“We don’t sell cats.” Remy informed her.

“I know.” Mandy adjusted her cloak. She didn’t feel like walking all the way over to Picani’s place of residence just to see the shredded remains of Logan clinging to life, that’d just be depressing. “Don’t worry about it.” Without another word she twirled on her feet, the scenery swapping once more.

“Alright, where we headed?” Mandy rubbed her hands together, looking around to try and get the lay of the land. It was a wide open field, which didn’t give her many clues- that is, until she saw how dead the grass was and the hole left behind by what must’ve been a beanstalk.

“Aww, I missed it?” Mandy groaned. She looked around, seeing nobody at the bottom of the stalk either. “Well this sucks. I can’t even tell if this is Virgil’s or Patton’s story. Why does the beanstalk have to come down, anyway? Just let it stay up and eventually consume all the water on Earth.”

That was an idea, maybe. But today was not the day for mythical eco-terrorism. Instead with a sigh Mandy twirled again, crossing her fingers. “Please something fun, please something fun-”

Unfortunately, her hopes were dashed when she opened her eyes to see generic apartment number 3. “Darn it, just a borrower story.”

There was a quiet clattering behind her. Mandy turned, seeing a very startled human Logan standing in the kitchen. “I- how- what did you say?”

“Oh dear.” Mandy winced. Logan was always the one with too many questions, no matter the universe. “Um, a borrower? Tiny person about yeigh high?” Mandy held out her hands for scale. “You might have one already in a cage. That, or they’re still in the walls. I don’t really know what stage you’re at.”

Logan’s eyes widened, turning a deadly pale. He glanced back at the living room door anxiously, leaning forwards and lowering his voice. “How much do you know about the little mouse men?”

“The mouse men?” Mandy wrinkled her nose in confusion. Since when did Logan call borrowers ‘mouse men’? That sounded more like Littles, and the only story she knew with Littles was…

Mandy gasped, smacking a hand to her cheek. “This is Kat’s story!” She excitedly whispered. The witch looked down at her own hands in awe, having not been aware she could even do that. “Oh my goodness I could see Littles. Wait should I? What if I break something? No, I shouldn’t, they’re all so depressed right now, and Kat’s Littles are always so skittish.”

“Cat? What’s this about a cat?” Logan was frantically trying to keep up with her logic, to no avail.

“Don’t worry about it.” Mandy said hastily. “Tell them I say hi. Wait don’t, forget you saw anything. Okay. I love you. Bye.”

With these parting words Mandy spun away, eager to get out before she ruined over a year’s worth of careful planning. But this opened a newfound realm of possibilities; what were her limits? How far could she go? She eagerly focused her energy away from her own stories, trying to see if she could breach the wall again.

“...oh great. Another Remy.” Mandy sighed, opening her eyes.

“Gurl you better check yourself before you shrek yourself.” Remy judged her, taking a long sip from his cup.

Mandy glanced around, taking in the house in disarray. There was a strange amount of potato chip bags and binoculars. On a notebook was a list labelled ‘Vampires?’ where Logan’s name had been written, crossed out, rewritten, repeat.

“Is this Lefay’s Welcome to the Neighborhood fic?” Mandy guessed.

“Yup.” Remy nodded. Mandy wasn’t even surprised Remy had that knowledge; he was some sort of demon of the night anyways here. Or something.

“Good.” Mandy nodded as well. “So I can’t break anything.”

“Bold of you to assume you’re worthy enough to derail this plot.�� Remy raised an eyebrow. “Where you headed?”

“I dunno.” Mandy shrugged, leaning against the couch. She cringed, feeling something sticky beneath her. “I mean not that you lovable trash raccoons aren’t, er, great… but I was kinda aiming for Delimeful.”

“The tiny dragon one?” Remy asked.

Mandy nodded. “I wanna introduce Puff to my dragon Virgil. Who isn’t really a dragon, just raised by dragons, and-”

“We get it, ya’ basic. First door on your left.” Remy interrupted with a point. Mandy paused, before with a shrug opening the door that was Remy’s haphazardly thrown together portal. There was another flash of familiar light, but this time the walls appeared more hazy. Translucent, even.

“So, this is a mind palace.” Mandy let out a low whistle, because she could do that in fiction. “Weird. I don’t work in canon enough, huh?”

But that wasn’t the focus right now. Instead her attention was drawn to a scuttling in front of her, a little purple dragon caught off guard by her arrival. Mandy grinned, taking the opportunity to lunge and catch him. “Gotcha!”

Puff did not appreciate this gesture, frantically clawing and biting at Mandy and nearly causing the young witch to drop him entirely.

“Geez, stop struggling, Virgil!” Mandy huffed, readjusting her grip.

“...Virgil?”

Mandy paused, looking up to see she had an audience. Roman, Patton, and Logan were giving her looks caught between confusion and horror. The dragon in question had frozen, terrified when she said his name.

For a moment Mandy thought she ruined everything, but no recognition dawned on their faces. “Oh right, you guys are pre-accepting anxiety.” Mandy gave a small sigh of relief, the others tensing further. “Don’t worry, it’s just a, uh, nickname. Totally irrelevant. Definitely not something worth pondering or asking Anxiety about. Okay, toodles!”

But as soon as Mandy attempted to spin on her heel with Puff in tow, a searing hot pain overtook her arms. She yelped, dropping the fledgling and spinning into the other realm alone, collapsing with a grimace.

“Okay, no taking things between realms.” Mandy grit her teeth. “Good to know.”

She looked up, her eyes peering through the darkness to see a sword glinting in the meager light, pointed threateningly at her face. Strangely, she hadn’t even heard the movement. That was suspiciously terrifying.

“State your business.” The not-dragon Virgil threatened.

Mandy looked down the length of the sword. She looked back up at Virgil. “I was just trying to bring you a present.” Mandy huffed, annoyed that her plan had failed. “It was a dragon version of you. A real one.”

Well, that was not the right thing to say. Mandy yelped, rolling out of the way as the sword came slashing down, clanking loudly against the rock wall.

“Lovely seeing you as always!” Mandy waved, turning on her heel to the sound of cursing behind her.

The witch gave a sigh of relief, trying to focus her mind again after getting so jittered. It was difficult whenever her creations got away from her, especially when she was at the wrong end of the sword. The Lord only knew how many times her giants got out of hand, putting Mandy in all sorts of compromising situations.

“Think Mandy.” Mandy told herself, continuing to spin as she began to get dizzy, multiple universes passing by and only offering her glimpses: cages, a butterfly wall, the ocean…. And of course the accompanying cast, but that was a bit harder to decipher considering they all shared the same fate. “If you could go anywhere, do anything, focus on that. Where would you go? What would you do?”

Her focus was shattered as in her dizzy state she took a single step back, breaking the spell and immediately tripping over something alive.

“Mrow!” The white cat hissed, scrambling fearfully up and away from Mandy and into Patton’s lap.

“Oh dear!” Patton gasped, bending down to check on her. “Are you alright?” She took in his light blue robes, recognizing a fellow magic user.

“Yes, I’m fine.” Mandy took his hand, standing up. She looked down at the bristling cat, glaring up at her haughtily. Mandy winced, slowly recognizing this to be her witch AU. “Sorry about your tail, Roman. Also sorry about your allergies, Patton.”

Patton gave her a bewildered look, not so subtly wiping at his nose. The cat hair was clearly getting to him again. “What? It’s just this spring air. Hardly your fault.”

“Right.” Mandy didn’t bother to explain that she was the one who gave him allergies in the first place. She sighed, wishing she could at least cuddle up Roman with his fluffy coat, but Roman looked to be in no mood to accept her apology. “Aristocat.” She muttered. “Are Logan and Virgil around?”

“No, I believe they went out to collect potion ingredients.” Patton explained.

“Ugh why didn’t I just do that?” Mandy smacked herself in the forehead. “I could have just written something about you four doing potion stuff for witchcraft. This is so needlessly complicated.”

“...sorry?” Patton didn’t know how to respond.

“Whatever, I’m getting out of here.” Mandy glanced at the pair one last time. “I suggest inventing magic benadryl. Or getting regular benadryl. I have no idea what time period this actually is because you refuse to go outside.”

With this mystic advice Mandy disappeared, forever on the hunt for that elusive inspiration.

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ask-de-writer · 4 years

Text

SEA DRAGON’S GIFT : Part 10 of 83 : World of Sea

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to World of Sea

SEA DRAGON’S GIFT

Part 10 of 83

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

140406 words

written 2007

Reproduction in any form, physical, electronic or digital is prohibited without the express consent of the author.

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New to the story? Read from the beginning. PART 1 is here

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Before they could move, Master Juris spoke. “Mistress Daeron, I speak to you as one Master to another. Nobody stays in this shop unless I allow it. I will tell you plainly that I am evaluating these children as possible apprentices. I had not meant to say anything to them yet, but I must speak now, in order to keep them on. Will you allow it?” he gestured to the hard-working children.

There was a confusion of “Of course,” and “Apprentice? Certainly!” and “Roper? Yes, but what about the rope-walk?”

Roper looked up grinning and said, “I’ll still help you too, mother.”

Kurin looked away from the pulley that she was hanging and asked curiously, “Who told you that they were a being a problem? We didn’t say anything to anybody.”

“Well, it was Silor. He came to us and said that our children were bothering Master Juris. That we should get them away from the boat-shop.” They turned to Master Juris. “The way that he said it, it sounded like he was relaying your request. We apologize for interfering with your trial.”

“Think nothing more of it,” said Master Juris. “Silor has been a cranky old Ord ever since I refused him an apprenticeship. This is just more of the same. Ignore what he says,” Master Juris paused, grinning nastily, before finishing, “in connection with this shop.”

With five boats working crabs and several more pulling nets for Glue Fish and Skelt, the Longin’s cargo space began to be filled.

When there was no more room for live crabs in the cargo vats, the cooks had to start processing the catch. Crab cakes, dried crab flake, pressed into blocks and tallow dipped, and salted crab were laid in store. Skelt dried, Skelt salted, Skelt pickled and Skelt in tallow blocks, joined the crabs in the cargo holds. The Longin ran out of room for more.

Silor’s muscles strained as he helped to get the boat-shop hatch off. They were launching the first boat that she had designed and built all by herself. The crane lifted the boat into view. Somehow, Silor felt just a bit disappointed. It looks ordinary enough. The way all of those white-haired-witch worshiping people talked for the last week, I had expected something more remarkable.

Everybody else was congratulating her and making a big thing of it. The sides seem a bit thin to me. He did as ordered and hitched it to the davits for lowering. Crewmen were clamoring for the chance to be the first to use the new boat, as it floated along side.

Merkit and Forn, the lucky winners, clambered down and got into the boat and rowed it a short ways from the side of the Longin to put up the mast. They seemed to have a bit of difficulty at first but got it stepped and the sail up. The boat gathered way. Maybe I was wrong. It is a fast one.

The mast began to bend and then broke off just short of half-way up. Merkit and Forn were clearing the wreckage of the sail when one of them yelled something that could not be made out due to the distance. He began to bail frantically. A badly glued seam must have given!

“They’re taking water! Get a boat to them, quickly!” Silor yelled. Nobody moved. They just watched. In growing horror, Silor saw the tall, paired fins slashing through the water toward the men who were losing the battle to bail out the boat.

“Strong Skin!” Silor screamed. Nobody moved. They just watched. The big, always hungry, fish hit the side of the boat with the large spine that made part of the front edge of its leading dorsal fin. The poorly made side folded, breaking the boat and casting both men into the water.

Silor could only watch in dread as they struggled. The fins of the Strong Skin disappeared. There was a swirl of water and a brief scream. The powerful tail of the massive predator lifted from the water and slammed down flat, leaving only a stain of blood and a terrified Merkit who struggled against his certain doom. The fish hit the man with its dorsal spine, ripping him open before it turned and took him in a bite.

Nothing was left but the sinking ruin of a boat, slowly sliding beneath the blood-stained waves.

I can’t believe it! They don’t seem to care about Merkit and Forn. They’re all feeling sorry for … .

“Silor! Silor! Wake up!” a hand shook him to sudden and shocked wakefulness. Cron, his second lead deck-hand asked urgently, “How long have you been sleeping?”

Muzzily, Silor thought, Sleeping? Was it only a dream? It was so real! At least Merkit and Forn are OK. Aloud, he said, “I don’t know, only a few minutes, I think. Lucky you came down so soon. What got you down here at the start of the watch? Is there a problem?”

Jolted, Cron answered, “Soon? Soon! Silor, it’s the start of MY watch! You slept through the entire watch! Can’t you smell it? The vat water’s gone foul. I can’t change it by myself now, I’ll have to get help.”

“You won’t be alone,” said Silor, following his nose to put the sluice over the worst of the vats. “Go to the Captain and get men. We need three for each of the four vats, and four or five of the biggest kettles the galley has. They can dip water from the sea and lower it to us in the hold with the cargo crane. The men and traveling cranes can take it from there. Go!”

As Cron went, he could hear Silor opening the vat drains and starting to crank the bucket line.

Shortly, a grim faced Captain Mord and the equally somber First Officer Kotance came leading ten other men. “Silor,” the Captain began, “you are relieved.”

“Sir, this happened on my watch. I would prefer to stay and help until it is fixed. I can offer no excuse, but I do know what to do and have started doing it.” Silor had not paused in his efforts on the bucket line as he made his plea.

“Very well, Silor, you may stay,” said the Captain, “but only because we need every man.” He paused in thought as he looked at what Silor had done and was doing. “What do you recommend, Silor, to remedy this?”

“Sir, we need to leave the drains open for now, while we flush the vats. Once we get them to run clean, then we can close the drains and fill them back up. I am flushing number three now. As the pots of water come down on the crane, we need to use them to flush numbers four, one and two, in that order, because of the water conditions that I observed when I opened the drains.”

Captain Mord nodded silent agreement and began directing the men. Big cooking kettles filled with seawater began to come down through the hatch. As they came, they were hitched to the traveling crane and moved to the necessary vats. Their life-giving seawater was dumped in and the pots returned to the crane repeat the cycle.

After a few hours of flushing, the first vat drain was closed and they began to fill it on up. The watch was nearly over before the last vat was properly refilled.

At the Captain’s order, Silor followed him through the tidy passages of the ship, aft to the Captain’s cabin. Captain Mord sat and gestured for Silor to sit as well. He regarded the youth with serious eyes for a few moments.

“Silor, what am I to do? You have put me in a truly difficult situation.” The Captain held up a hand and gestured at the books of Naral fleet Law and the Articles of the Longin, “These leave me little sea-room in dealing with you. What you have done, is done. We both wish to call it back and we both know that we cannot.

“There is much in your conduct to commend you. You caused the problem but also solved it. Your plan was sound and I followed it. Only three of the Broad-legs died, due in part to your prompt and decisive action and your refusal to try to hide the problem. It could have been much worse.

“It is past salvage that you fell asleep on duty and caused this. Do you know your rights and avenues of action from here?”

Dully, Silor said, “I can put myself in your hands alone or I can ask a tribunal of three each of officers and Masters, with you to vote only to break a tie.”

The Captain said quietly, “There is another. It was meant for officers but, as you do command men, you are qualified to it. You can request a jury of those whom you command. Of the options open to you, it might be best. If I have the case, my action is proscribed by those books, and they are harsh. The Masters and officers would be fair to you. Your men are also your friends and may prove your best course. Whichever court you use, there is no appeal from a decision for this offense.”

“Sir, I will put myself in your hands. I have known you all of my life and you have always been fair. The others, well She has gotten to them, indeed most of the ship. I will be safer with you.”

“Silor, please, do not do this. I will have to break your well deserved rank. The others do not. That is why there are those courts available.”

“Sir, they could break me and worse, far worse. She would see to it.”

“I do not understand,” said the Captain, puzzled. What does he mean by ‘She’? “You do know that you have chosen the hardest course to sail. So be it. Go, have the tocsin sound ‘general assembly’.”

Shortly, the sharp strong beat of ‘general assembly’ brought everybody not on watch to the quarterdeck. Some, who stood night watches, were rubbing sleep out of their eyes.

Silor and the Captain stood before them. Behind them was First Officer Kotance, quill in hand, with the current volume of the Ship’s Log open before him on a stand.

Clard, Master of Drums, called out loudly, “Justice at the Captain’s Hands has been requested by Silor Elon Longin. He stands accused of sleeping on watch and thereby causing harm to our live cargo.”

To Silor, one face stood out in the crowd. Kurin’s white hair drew his eye like a hungry fish to bait. She looks stricken. She must have planned for any tribunal but this. Whatever her plan was, it has been foiled. It is a good thing that I chose the Captain’s Hands. It’s the only justice she can’t reach.

Quietly, the Captain asked one more time, “Will you not take a tribunal? They can show mercy where I cannot.”

Firmly and loudly, Silor announced, “I will have Justice from the Captain’s Hands!”

Sighing at the foolishness that was costing him one of the best lead deck-hands that he’d ever had, Captain Mord said, “Silor Elon Longin, you stand in My Hands of your own will, having refused other tribunals. You have admitted to falling asleep on watch, causing the death of three of the Broad-leg crabs in our cargo. You are to be stripped of your duty as lead deck-hand for a period of three Gatherings. During that time, you may not be made a lookout or given solo duty of any kind. The Law of the Naral fleet and the Articles of the Longin demand this.

“Normally, the loss to cargo would demand a flogging to go with this punishment but you also formulated and directed the effort which saved us from much greater losses. For this service, I can give reward. The flogging is canceled unless any of the ship’s company demand it.” He paused and looked out over the assembled crew. Nobody spoke. Silor had many friends and few who wished him any ill at all, had he been able to believe it.

The Captain turned back to Silor. Regretfully, he asked, “I am in need of a new lead deck-hand. Is there anyone that you would recommend?”

Silor actually considered the question carefully for a few moments before recommending, “Cron, Sir. I think that he would be best.”

In the background, Kotance’s quill could be heard scratching across the paperfish parchment of the Log Book as he recorded the event.

“Thank-you, Silor. You are dismissed.” Then, with the same genuine concern that had caused Silor to trust him, the Captain added, “Go to the Galley and get something to eat. You missed your last meal while saving our crabs.”

Afterwards, Silor lay in his hammock, dark thoughts running through his mind. Cron, the new lead deck-hand, and one of his oldest friends, came down the companion-ladder.

“Thought I’d find you here. Tough break, that. Hell, we’ve all taken a nap before. Bummer about those three crabs, though. That’s what did you in.”

“That and the little white-haired witch,” said Silor, grumpily.

“Yeah,” said Cron lightly, “if she hadn’t been showing off how she can find fish, we wouldn’t have the most valuable catch of crabs ever, and you wouldn’t have got in trouble.”

Silor sat bolt upright, causing his hammock to flip and dump him in a heap the deck. “You’re right!” he exclaimed as he picked himself up. “We voted against that stupid mapping thing, but they did it anyway.

“I wouldn’t be in any trouble if it wasn’t for her!”

Cron was dumbfounded. That was supposed to be a joke! I can’t believe it! Silor’s serious. He retreated up the companion-ladder shaking his head over the idea. How can Silor prefer that the whole ship lose their shares in a rich cargo just so that he can get away with sleeping on duty?

That night’s dining assembly brought no relief for Silor. The discussion was lively and optimistic. As the Broad-legs had been believed to be the rarest of crabs, they were likely to bring high prices and therefore high shares.

The entire crew, even Silor, voted to make the existence of Kurin’s charts and the new, very profitable, method of crabbing Ship’s Business, with a penalty of expulsion and shunning for revealing it to anyone from another ship.

TO BE CONTINUED

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#SEA DRAGON’S GIFT #Part 10 of 83 #World of Sea #Written by De Writer

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atamascolily · 4 years

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lily liveblogs: BBC Atlantis 1x03, “A Boy of No Consequence”

Welcome back to the BBC Atlantis liveblog! Previously introduced:

THE HERO: Jason. Originally from Atlantis, raised on Earth and recently returned. Confused as hell about everything. Killed the Minotaur and now on the royal shitlist. Daddy issues and a mysterious macguffin amulet. Shirts optional.

THE LANCER: Hercules. 'Nuff said.

THE SMART GUY: Pythagoras. The triangle guy. NERD. I love him.

THE BIG BAD: King Minos and Queen Pasiphae, rulers of Atlantis. The Minotaur is supposedly Minos's fault, but so far the show has been mum about bull-fucking, so it's not clear how true the show is going to stay to the myth.

THE LOVE INTEREST: Ariadne, daughter to the above. Smitten with Jason on account of his good looks (because let's face it, they haven't had much time to talk yet). Maybe she and Jason can bond over daddy issues?

SOURCE OF CRYPTIC EXPOSITION: The Oracle. Knows more than she's telling Jason... for his own protection. Prone to cryptic utterances and killing chickens.

ATLANTIS: A city that is NOT under the ocean, despite the fact that Jason traveled there in a sub. (I really hope it was called the Argo, but I forgot to check.) Has no leash-laws for two-headed dragons, an abundance of watermelons in the marketplace, and guards with surprisingly good aim--also, hunting lions, because why not?

I had to skip episode 2, so this is going to be fun. Let's see what I missed!

In the marketplace, Herc is crushing on Medusa [introduced in the last episode] and Pythagoras and Jason are trying to bring him down gently. They stop to help an old man with an overturned cart, and an Asshole Authority Figure I don't recognize shows up and smacks the old man around for blocking his way (just in case we were wondering whether we were supposed to like him). Jason intervenes and they fight, but the other guy has guards, so Jason gets arrested. Just another day in Atlantis!

All of the credits are still backwards and I hate it, but at least there's an actual opening sequence this time!

Cut to Pythagoras and Herc standing in the jail along with Jason. Pythagoras introduces the Asshole Authority as "Heptarion" so I'm forgiven for not knowing who he is. He's Pasiphae's nephew.

Cut to the three of them kneeling in front of the throne in chains, and Ariadne's standing there watching, and I think... she finds this hot. Minos and Pasiphae are all like "You again?" because this probably is going to happen every episode.

Minos threatens Jason with a death curse. Jason yells, and it doesn't go well. Herc tries to explain Jason's a tourist and doesn't know any better, and then calls on the whole Minotaur business as a chance for mercy. So Minos claims he's going to leave it to Poseidon.

Pasiphae asks if Ariadne likes Jason. Ariadne lies, and Pasiphae calls her on it. Ariadne says "You're not my mom," and OH SNAP, this explains A LOT, ACTUALLY. Ariadne's promised to Heptarion, so this is SUPER AWKWARD. Ariadne asks if Pasiphae would intervene with Minos, and Pasiphae punts and says it's up to the gods. Ariadne says she'll pray for Jason, then.

Herc claims that was the last time he'll ever help Jason, but he is a LIAR and also a HUGE SOFTIE, so I call bullshit.

IT'S THE RUNNING OF THE BULLS. Or at least of some sort of matador thing in a ring with a giant bull and people leaping over it with epic leaps. Everybody on a "team" has to survive in order to be free. Pythagoras talks about probability, because he is, as I've mentioned before, a NERD.

Their other team members are an African warrior who gives Pythagoras the side-eye and a girl who doesn't want to eat her food, so Herc steals it. There's also a random dude who picks a fight with the warrior.

Heptarion and Pasiphae meet for plotting and gossip about Ariadne and Jason. The team practices leaping over a practice bull. Herc trips and doesn't make it over, as Heptarion and Pasiphae watch. Pythagoras says that the queen is rumored to be a witch. Jason leaps perfectly, and everyone's amazed, no less Jason. Heptarion realizes his rival is harder to kill than he thought, but Pasiphae plans to help.

The girl cuts Jason's hair while he sleeps, which the random dude on their team sees. VOODOO MAGIC TIME.

The next day, the team watches someone get killed in the practice ring. The random dude baits the warrior, and we learn he's a Nubian prince! Jason tries to play peacemaker and suggests they band together, but nobody's buying it. They go into the ring and Jason tries to strategize but nobody listens.

Jason calls the bull to him and it LISTENS. Jason does his run thing and falls to the ground. The girl yells at the bull and so do the others to keep him from a fallen Jason. TEAMWORK. Pythagoras and Herc carry Jason off the field and it turns out it was all a ruse to get the team to work together. Jason, you little schemer.

Herc hides under the table rather than let his ex-girlfriend catch sight of him. The Nubian prince says he has 3 wives and 7 kids, and he wishes he could go home. Jason tries to talk to the girl who won't eat and give her food and a pep talk. She starts to spill the hair thing and then runs away. Pasiphae does some VOODOO MAGIC.

The random dude, Cyrus, confronts the girl about the hair thing. The guy in charge interrupts before she can tell him anything. Cyrus tells the guy in charge what he saw, and gets stabbed for his trouble. So I guess there's only gonna be five people on the team?

(Note: all of the other characters have names, I just can't always understand what they are without subtitles.)

The trio know foul play when they see it. Jason goes to comfort the girl, and she confesses what she did in exchange for her freedom. (I assume they're going to double-cross her and kill her, because that's what happened to Cyrus.) Pythagoras has to explain the whole voodoo thing to Jason.

Herc mocks Jason's tase in women, specifically Ariadne. Jason protests they have barely talked, and I agree, but those long soulful gazes SPEAK VOLUMES. Herc calls Pythagoras "a fool with no knowledge of women" and this show is really not helping with the slash shipping here.

Heptarion tries to chat up Ariadne at the dinner table and it fails because Ariadne is such a killjoy and doesn't enjoy watching people die in front of her. You know, she's a weirdo like that.

Pythagoras suggests enlisting Medusa to steal the hair back. Herc objects because Love. Pythagoras has another idea, and it's Herc's ex-girlfriend! Herc chats up his ex, and convinces her to take a note to Medusa. I guess people can read in this show? News to me, but okay.

The next morning, they go out to the ring. Jason's not wearing a shirt, because... reasons? Medusa sneaks in to the queen's bedroom and there's so much furniture I'm pretty sure that's not period, only to get nearly caught by the queen. But she does spy the secret ritual room, so there's that.

Epic sandal montage/power walk into the bull ring with the Squad. No, Jason is not wearing a shirt, why do you ask? He and Ariadne make eyes at each other, as Minos makes a speech about how this is totally not rigged. They chant the ritual phrases and get to it. PLAY BALL.... or PLAY BULL, rather.

Pasiphae stabs the voodoo doll and Jason crumbles in pain. The Nubian prince does a badass leap! And he's not even the protagonist! Herc yells at the bull to keep it away from Jason and does a less badass leap... but he does make it, and the crowd cheers anyway. The girl distracts the bull and leaps! The crowd cheers. The guy in charge looks pissed.

Just as Pasiphae is about to stab Jason's head, Medusa makes a noise / sets something on fire? Pasiphae runs out, and Medusa grabs the poppet. Now Jason is better! Jason gives Pythagoras a pep talk, since he also has to leap in order for them to win. Pythagoras's leap has no grace whatsoever, but he does it... which is better than I would do under the circumstances, let's be honest. He's so thrilled!!

Of course, Jason goes last because DRAMA. His flip is the best, because he's the LEAD, but I argue that the Nubian prince is more impressive because he's actually, you know, PRACTICED, instead of being just MAGICALLY TALENTED AND ALL.

They win! Ariadne loves Jason even more! Group hug for the five members of the team! Atlantis loves them! Minos tries to put a good face on it. They're free! Medusa yells out to Hercules and waves. She saved them all and didn't get caught! Nice!

Pasiphae tries to be nice to Ariadne, and she's not buying it. Pasiphae's all like, This is why being nice never works.

The Nubian prince is going to return the girl to her village and then go home. He invites the trio to visit, so I guess we'll see him again?? I hope so, I like him. The marketplace is still full of watermelons and Herc is convinced that Medusa returns his affections because she saved their lives and... sigh. Okay, then.

Anyway, all's well that ends well (I guess), but I have so many questions. Do any of these characters actually have jobs? What do they do for money? Are they going to get hauled before Minos and Pasiphae for not paying rent in the next episode? What does the Oracle think about all this? What happened to the two-headed dragons? Where are all the watermelons coming from? Does anybody in Atlantis actually buy them or do they just sit on that one dude’s cart and that’s why it’s always so full? Are the main characters going to go back to square one by the end of every episode or will the plot actually build on something? Will Jason and Ariadne actually talk to each other, or will they continue to gaze soulfully across the throne room while Jason’s a Very Naughty Boy Who Must Be Punished?

Apparently, the preview for the next episode makes it very clear it will be A BABY EPISODE, so we’ll see how many of these questions are answered.

#lily liveblogs #bbc atlantis

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hdgaywriting · 4 years

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Eighth Year - Drarry Fic Part 4

The weeks crept on at Hogwarts and before you knew it, quidditch season was upon them. Harry was filled with new excitement at the prospect of having an uninterrupted quidditch season. He was sure to help Gryffindor fly to the top and secure the cup. He and Ginny were co-captains this year, and tryouts had gone brilliant. Ron even made the team again! Another great thing about quidditch is that it was something Harry and Draco actually had in common. The two boys would wake up together and get ready for practice, trudging through morning dew on the pitch. Draco had even lent Harry his broom polish, and in return Harry had given him some tips on broom stabilization.

It was after a particularly fun scrimmage that the two Seekers had a profound moment. They were in their room, changing out of their sweaty uniforms that Harry again noticed Draco’s silvery scars. In the spirit of their new-founded familiarity with each other (friendship was still a strong word) he decided to ask Draco about it.

“Malfoy, how’d you get those scars on your chest?” The grey eyes looked up at him and Draco’s face turned tense and cold. Harry thought he was going to get ignored, but to his surprise Draco opened his mouth to speak.

“My house was broken into over the Summer. Crazed half-bloods who were mad at my parents. Said they were fans of the Order of the Phoenix and I should rot. It was some sort of spell I’d never heard of.” Draco paused and Harry saw his face contort in pain, making his sharp features more vicious. “Something similar to sectumsempra.” Draco stared harshly at the floor, unwilling to meet Harry’s gaze.

On the inside, Harry’s stomach lurched. Sectumsempra was the spell he cruelly used on Draco their sixth year. It had nearly killed him. It quite literally slashed him all over. He knew he couldn’t take it back, but his heart wanted to fix it. He walked forward, closer to his roommate. Draco stood still, statuesque. Harry impulsively cupped Draco’s chin in his hand. He heard Malfoy’s sharp intake of breath, a sound Harry knew was out of surprise. He made Draco look him in the eyes.

“I was wrong to use that spell.” Harry said. He meant it with every part of him. Draco’s face didn’t move a muscle. He continued to stare at Harry with a blank gaze. He was unreadable, like every trace of humanity was stuck under the surface. Harry dropped his hand and left the room with his broom in his hands. He needed to be in the sky for a while.

Draco ran his hand through his tidy blonde hair as soon as Harry left the room. He could have leaned forward and kissed Potter right there. Draco sat on the edge of his bed, whole body tense. His hand absentmindedly traced the long scars on his chest. If these things are what end up bringing Potter to me, I guess they were worth it, he thought.

Draco had been falling in love with Harry for weeks now. All the animosity had melted away. Living with Harry showed a different side of him. He wasn’t obnoxious and pompous like Draco thought. He was damaged goods, and his broken matched Draco’s. For the first time in eight years, Harry Potter wasn’t unattainable.

Draco thought back to the night Harry had his nightmare. He had rubbed Harry’s shoulder, then back, trying to soothe him. Harry had even placed his head on Draco’s shoulder and fell asleep. Poor thing was too exhausted to lay back down himself. It hurt Draco to see Harry hurting that much. It hurt him even more to realize he had feelings for the boy, as he fell asleep in Harry’s bed. Draco tried to refuse them. He tried being mean, lasing out, and avoiding the room. But he felt off. Nobody else at Hogwarts wanted much to do with him. The pure blood families were disappointed in him, the half-bloods hated him, Snape wasn’t around to protect him anymore, and he’d even lost Crabbe and Goyle, as moronic as they were. Draco realized he couldn’t afford to be mean to Potter. If he pushed the Golden Trio away, he was really all alone. So, he stopped. And he waited. And then the feelings came back. The more Draco stopped pretending they weren’t there, the happier he became. He didn’t put his energy into hating Potter, he put his energy into loving him.

Draco had gone from helping Potter out once by waking him up, to falling asleep in his bed, to opening up to Harry about his feelings. Even now, Harry cared about the things that happened to Draco. He had even apologized for hurting him. Draco knew in that moment that he was in love with Harry Potter. The problem was, though, that Harry was in love with Ginny Weasley, and probably wouldn’t ever speak to Draco again after they graduated.

Harry flew in loops around the castle. He was supposed to stay near the quidditch pitch, but quite frankly, he didn’t care. Flying had always been his favorite way to clear his mind, but now that he was of legal age, drinking wasn’t half bad either. Once his feet were firmly on the ground, he marched to Ron and Hermione’s room.

“Need a drink.” Ron and Hermione blinked at his demand. Ron shrugged and got up, dusting off his trousers.

“Are you sure?” Hermione asked. “What’s wrong?” Harry briefly explained some tale of how he was having a hard time adjusting. What he couldn’t bring himself to say is that he couldn’t get Draco off his mind and it was driving him crazy. He wanted to be around him. More than he wanted to be around his girlfriend, which made him feel even worse. Hermione gave in pretty easily.

“I’m just going to grab some money,” Harry declared as he was walking through the bathroom to his suite. Draco was looking at him bustling around the room collecting his things to go out. Harry looked at his roommate, and before he realized he’d said it, he invited Draco drinking with him and his friends.

The youngest Malfoy paused, mostly in shock. “Sure,” he replied, apprehensive.

“Alright then,” Harry said, and scurried through the bathroom again. He told Ron and Hermione about their guest, and only got minimal hesitation. This term Draco hadn’t been so typically horrid to be around. He and Hermione actually got on quite well. Once Draco got over the whole muggle-born thing, that is.

The four students were down at the bar soon after, enjoying the ambiance (and their mugs of alcohol). Ron got a sipping whiskey, Hermione a rum and coke, Harry a strong gin and tonic, and Draco a vodka martini, all of which were on Harry’s dime. The gang laughed at Draco’s order, calling it quite prissy. To their surprise, Draco, in an attempt to shut them up, ordered them a round of dragon’s fire. Four shot glasses of clear, bubbling and steaming liquid were soon at their disposal.

“Drink up,” Draco said, tossing it back. His face squinched up a bit, but otherwise he seemed mild mannered, and motioned for the group to take it. Harry and Hermione looked at each other, apprehensive, but enjoying the prospect of a challenge.

“Fine,” Ron said. He smelled the drink and gagged. “That’s awful!” he said.

“It’s quality” Draco emphasized. “Not so Irish anymore, are you, Weasley?”

“Oh, you’re going to eat your words, Malfoy.” Ron said, taking the shot. A moment after, Ron was howling, jumping up and down and Draco was hysterical. Hermione and Harry were also doubled over, laughing deeply from the belly. Once he calmed down, Ron was warning Harry and Hermione how awful it was.

“It can’t be that bad,” Hermione said. Ron gave her a look. “C’mon, Harry,” Hermione said, picking up her drink and pinching her nostrils closed. Harry laughed and picked his up as well.

“Can we have a chaser?” he asked Draco.

“Of course not,” he said and folded his arms across his chest. Harry shrugged.

“3…2…” Hermione counted, looking paler as she went. “1!” The two tossed back the drink. The taste was horrendous. It was so dry and so acidic. The putrid burn coated their throats. Hermione was gagging and Harry was trying his best not to. It felt like their ears were smoking. Harry could barely hear Ron and Draco laughing maniacally at them.

“She’s going to be sick!” Ron howled. Hermione had her hand clasped tight on her mouth. “Be right back!” Ron said, still grinning cheekily. He helped hoist Hermione up and led her to the bathroom, already working on scooping her hair back.

Harry had composed himself (mostly) and was gulping down his gin. Draco was smirking at him when he looked up. “How did you do that?” Harry asked.

“Aunt Bella always had it around. Was her drink of choice. Said only tough blokes could handle it, and Merlin did she want me to be a tough bloke…”

“Did she want to torture you?!” Harry asked, before realizing he had better get more respectful of the deceased.

“Maybe!” Draco said with a laugh. “She was so mean!” Harry was unsure why Draco was speaking so poorly of his dead aunt, but all that alcohol was hitting him.

“Maybe she’s where you got it from,” Harry said cautiously. Draco looked at him with a blank face. A knot tied in Harry’s stomach. He’d gone too far. “I’m sorry,” Harry said quietly.

“Don’t be,” Draco said. “My family sucks. The only halfway decent one was my mum and she left me, so what’s the point in standing up for that lot?” Harry was taken aback. He was starting to think Draco was more drunk that Harry initially thought. He went to sip his gin and tonic, but was met with only ice and air.

“A lager,” Harry said to the bar witch, a few yards down. She nodded at him.

“One for me as well,” Draco said. He pulled on his shirt, straightening it out and fixed his blonde hair. “I’m not sloshed, Potter,” he said when he noticed Harry’s worried look. A martini and a shot, and I’m not even done with the martini yet. I just didn’t want to get up to bother the bar witch again.”

Hermione and Ron came back, just then. Hermione looked sheepish and Ron looked very smug. Harry raised his bottle at the pair and took a swig. Hermione ordered a gilly water for herself and sat down.

“Feeling alright, Granger?” Malfoy asked.

“Just peachy,” Hermione said. “Not sure how much longer we’ll stay.” And she had meant it. Ron and Hermione only stayed another half hour before Hermione demanded they go home. You can have a boy’s night and drink yourselves sick without me another night, she had yelled. So, it was just Harry and Draco, who were both giggly and drunk by the time they were left alone.

“Do you hate me?” Harry said out of the blue. His drunk brain had severely lowered his inhibitions.

“Do I look like I hate you?” Draco retorted. “We’ve been schoolmates for eight years, Potter. If I’d hated you I’d’ve transferred,” he slurred.

“But you were watching me for You Know Who. You had to be there.”

“What?!” Draco said. “No, I didn’t. I wasn’t watching you for him, I was watching you ‘cause I liked watching you.” Draco said. “Don’t be such a prat!”

Harry was stunned. In his brain, Draco had always been out to get him. “No, you hate me!” Harry insisted.

“No, Harry, I don’t.” Draco said. He had put on his best sober voice, trying to make Harry believe him. Harry was focused on how calm his old nemesis could be. “Harry, I could never have been your friend. My family hated Dumbledore, and you by proxy. Voldemort lived in my house!” he said in a much more hushed tone, “couldn’t very well be your best mate, but if he had wanted me to go after you, you would have known. Besides, I knew Snape was a spy.” He sat up again. Harry hadn’t realized that Draco had moved so close to him. The recollection of his hot breath coming out in plumes on Harry’s skin struck him.

“Were you scared?” Harry said after a moment. He pushed his empty bottle out of the way and leaned in close, subconsciously wanting to shut the gap between him and Draco.

“No,” Draco said, automatically. Harry kept looking at him, not falling for it. Draco clenched his jaw before continuing, “Yes. Everyday. Scared out of my mind. Scared my family would die, scared they’d kill me for not murdering anyone. Scared for you…” he stopped in his tracks.

“I didn’t know you cared,” Harry said.

“I didn’t know you thought I was really a monster,” Draco said back. Harry sat straight up again. Draco was looking down. “When you’re told you’re a monster, and later asked to play the part of a monster, I guess it makes sense that people think you are one.” He explained.

“Who called you a monster?” Harry asked. Draco looked up.

“Aunt Bella. We were close when I was young. I came out to her when I was little. She was the first one. She told me that was awful. Only horrid monsters were gay. I shut down then and there. Never told anyone else.”

Harry was angry, now. “She’s wrong,” he spat. “Wrong.” Draco said nothing, so Harry flagged down the bar witch and ordered another round of those putrid shots. He thought about how Draco had just said he was gay. Did this change anything? He didn’t think so, at least not in a bad way. It actually explained a lot. Meanwhile, Draco was convincing himself that he actually had just come out (again), to none other than Harry Potter. Harry Potter was now the only living person besides Draco to know he was gay. The shots were placed in front of the boys.

“Go on,” Harry said. “Show off for me.” That was the last thing he remembered.

Much of the night was foggy, for both of the boys, but their blackout faded when they were back in their suite. Harry came-to on his bathroom floor, arms folded over the toilet seat. Draco wasn’t far away from him, sitting and leaning against the counter and holding a glass of water.

“More water?” he asked Harry. His black hair flopped over his eyes as he shook his head no. The thought of anything going down his throat made him dry heave over the toilet. In an instant Draco was rubbing Harry’s back. “It’s okay,” he said.

“When did we get here?” Harry asked. Draco blinked back at him.

“An hour or two ago? Don’t you remember?”

“No,” Harry said. “I don’t remember much after that second dragon shot.”

“We drank ourselves stupid,” Draco said. “We got kicked out of the bar. I threw up on the way home, and you started throwing up right outside the castle. I got Weasley to help me get you up here because you are SO difficult, and we’ve been sat here ever since.” Harry smiled tiredly.

“Did Ron go back to bed?” Harry asked. Draco shook his head yes.

“I had to convince him I wasn’t going to throw you off the turret, first.” Harry laughed.

“You and I don’t have the best track record,” Harry said. Draco laughed bitterly. Harry liked the sound. It was like Draco wanted to laugh but didn’t want to let himself go. The reservation was endearing.

“We’re changing that.” Draco’s statement wasn’t optional. He firmly meant that he and Harry were going to stop hating each other. Harry shook his head yes too quickly, giving himself another round of the spins. He cupped his head in his hands. Draco was at his side again.

Harry looked up, peering at the blonde boy through strands of black hair. He thought about how kind Draco was. How smart. How complex. How did he ever hate him? Harry felt butterflies in his stomach.

“I want to kiss you,” Harry said. Draco’s eyes widened.

“Potter…” he said. Harry’s gaze didn’t falter. Draco’s mind was going a thousand miles an hour.

“Never mind,” Harry said. Draco felt the pit of his stomach drop and disappointment cloud his vision. “I must smell awful,” Harry laughed.

“I don’t give a damn,” Draco said. He gripped Harry’s shirt collar and brought their faces together. It was so easy, kissing Harry Potter. It was so natural. Harry pushed Draco down onto his elbows and tucked one hand in the blonde hair. He grabbed Draco tightly and kissed him fiercely. Once he backed off Draco was dumbfounded. He couldn’t speak.

“Fuck,” Harry said, more to himself than anyone. “Ginny…” he muttered, and left the room.

__________________________________________________

Tag list: @carrameli @devilrising @fantasticreads0402

#drarry #drarry fanfiction #harry x draco #malfoy #Harry Potter x Draco Malfoy #draco #draco malfoy #harry potter fanfiction #harry #potter #harry potter #fanfiction #hogwarts #hdgayfanfictionEY #hdgayfanfiction #eighth year fic #eighth year #gay #love

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trixcuomo · 4 years

Conversation

I'm Not Petty (Like You)

((Next on Desperate Alt's Lives! Night Elf Sharpen helps Trixany lay a trap for Sig Nicious to date her... WILL Siggy fall for it???))

At the Daily Mail Dalaran studio...

Sharpen: Relax, Trix. At least this is a faction-neutral interview--

Trixany: I told you I was socially dead and this was a bad idea. The Orgrimmar studio threw me back out onto the street, Stormwind had already put a bounty on my head...

Sharpen: Yeah, sorry about that, by the way. I am a hunter after all. Guess I was the expert tracker at the top of their list. Oh well, I was the one who found you first, so not -that- bad?

Trixany: *voice very stressed* Well, living in a hole in the wilds of Stranglethorn Vale for three days wasn't so bad. At least I got to sleep while you doubled back and left a false trail for the Stormwind City Guard.

Sharpen: *picks a stray leaf out of her blonde hairdo* We live really weird lives, Trixany.

Trixany: By the sunwell, this is still so horrible. Ugh, I should just let my career die. If you can even call it that. All day, day in and day out, it just feels like I'm dodging Haris Pilton's lawyers banging on my door to deliver more courtsubpeonas.

Sharpen: Is she really still doing that? What a waste of space.

Trixany: This time, Haris says I copied her eye color.

Sharpen: Her eyes are fel green, like yours! It's because you're both Blood Elves. Are you kidding me?

Trixany: Hard to tell because she never takes off her shades, though. *intones* You know, I actually think she's high on bloodthistle half the time. Bet I'm right, too. I should bring it up live on air today and slam her! That pet-stealing witch. Keep your own damn dog and leave my baby dragon whelp alone...

Sharpen: Trixany, focus. You're to go in there, looking casual, being helpful. NO gossip. None. When they ask you about Sig, remember, you...

Trixany: Shrug and say those magic words. You sure I can't flirt with him on air? Being subtle isn't my style... I like to think of myself as a classy girl, but--

Sharpen: You're not a classy girl. Sassy, maybe.

Trixany: *narrows eyes* Look at you. You're assy. Always wearing such fitted pants like not everyone with a Tumblr account hasn't seen your Succulent Tart butt pic yet.

Sharpen: In that artwork, I epitomize the words 'succulent tart'

Trixany: But nobody can even see your face.

Producer: *walks up* Alriiight! We ready to go on, Miss Cuomo? We're thrilled to have you here in Dalaran, it's been so long. When was the last time again?

Bev Collarbane: *Worgen drawl* T'was when her singer-slash-street-gang attacked an innocent man on the Gnomish Tram to Ironforge. Shakin' their collective bums and singin' about cola. *producer adjusts his tie, pats down the lapels of his black suit*

Trixany: *nervous* I... I don't think I was actually there for that one. My agent kinda complained to me about the bad press coverage, though.

Bev: *growls, leaves them backstage to start the show*

Sharpen: Hrm. For a Worgen, he's cute--

Trixany: Not now, Sharpen!

Sharpen: *winks* I'm just sayin, nice tail. And that joke works eventhough I know Worgen don't have tails.

Trixany: *crosses arms, ignores him*

Producer: *looks Sharpen up and down* Oh, he's camera gold! Look at those muscles...

Sharpen: Yes, I do. *glances down at his bicep*

Trixany: He's just my emotional support Night Elf himbo friend. All the starlettes have them these days. *nudges Sharpen to cut it out*

Sharpen: Hey, I arranged this whole thing for you. I'm a lot more than some--

Trixany: *waves him off* Sharpen just stays backstage mostly and holds my orange juice.

Sharpen: *finally looks disgusted*... Well. Now I see where I really stand with you, Trix. Fine. Good luck, or whatever. Go, on.

Producer: ...

Sharpen: ...

Trixany: ... ...

Producer: *checks her Gnomish headset* Sorry this is awkward. Bev's still warming up the live audience. It's not time yet.

Sharpen: And this is of course even more awkward now, after you insulted me Trixany. You should apolgoize.

Trixany: *narrows eyes* Uh, pretty sure I just low-key asked you for orange juice. Why are you still here?

Sharpen: *leaves, grumbles*

Producer: Alright Trixany, *she checks headset, then grabs Trixany by the arm, pulling her along* This it. *her voice lowers* Remember, we're looking for scandal, flare, the Trixany brand that launches cola sales.

Trixany: *looks back helplessly for Sharpen all of a sudden* But... my friend said I shouldn't... Do you think I should?

Producer: Hey, we here at the Dalaran Daily Mail have no problems with you ending your career here and now. Why not go down in a blaze of glory, live? I mean, you're Trixany Cuomo. Do you really know how to do anything else?

Trixany: Hey! You're pretty damn nasty for Human woman.

Producer: And that's why you all keep losing Warsong Gulch.

Trixany: Damn. These Alliance are on point lately with their similies...

Producer: Here at The Dalarn Daily Mail, 'We're above it all.' We can afford a scandal or two. Remember that when you get out there and see him. It might come as a shock, and we're okay with capturing that on camera *turns Trixany around a corner and suddenly they're walking behind a curtain. Noise of the audience and Bev barking laughter reachers their ears* Remember, don't freeze!

Trixany: Oh, I get it. 'above it all'. Because it's a floating city. Huh, that's clever...

Producer: *shove!*

Trixany: *stumbles onto stage on her red and gold stilletoes and white 'I am not scandalous' dress that Sharpen helped her pick out. But the helpful Night Elf is not here now. Her long blonde eyebrows raise, as she notices who IS seated next to the tough-as-nails Worgen host Bev Collarbane.

Sig Nicious: ...

Trixany: ...

Sharpen: *somewhere off stage* Shit! It's actually, really Sig Nicious!!

Bev Collarbane: Please, Trixany. Be a good girl, sit. Sig Nicious was just talking about his next album when the topic of you two dating came up.

Trixany: I... it's something I'm familiar with actually.

Bev: *the worgen nearly barks at her* We're going to settle this here and now, once and for all. Aren't we, Siggy? Too many vicious women have been hunting you down of late, and I'm sure you want to settle it. Men like you and me, we have our reputations to defend, don't we?"

Sig: Well, yes.

Bev: Rrr... Why not use this as a chance to make an example for the rest? A free shot at Trixany Cuomo herself, on us.

Producer: Don't freeze...

Sharpen: *holding a glass of orange juice* Say something clever. Come on, Trix. Don't let them turn the tables on you, snap out of it!

Trixany: Oh... um... but when we were talking backstage before, I... uh...

Trixany: *Slowly turns to the camera, trembling* This isn't the deal I made.

Producer: Did she just...?

Sharpen: Anything -except- sounding like evil Queen Azshara in this situation!!

#desperate-alts-lives

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twobitmulder · 5 years

Text

Heroes vs Dracula

Since it’s October and I haven’t done anything but outlining for weeks, I thought I’d do a quick scene from my old “MCU but its Victorian public domain characters” idea. In the interest of not just novelizing the scene with a name swap I changed some stuff around. I don’t normally put narrative writing on here, but since it’s not really a fully fleshed out original story like the stuff I’ve been outlining, nor is it anything approaching a full fanfic, I thought I would put it here.

Central London was a pockmarked battlefield. The Tripods formed a wall—an honest to God wall—across the horizon. Somewhere, dim in the back of her mind, Mina knew they were metal shells. The invaders were creatures like the Count, tiny weak flesh and blood things that hid in their war machines, but looking on them, tentacles writhing they might have been creatures from the deepest parts of the ocean or the nightmares of a madman.

The Count stood before them, clad in plates of the same impenetrable brass colored metal. He flashed his fangs at Mina and her companions. The wounds on her neck burned. On her left Adam rolled his massive shoulders. His sallow face was set in a feral grimace.

“Let’s kill him properly this time.”

Mina hefted John’s curved knife in her hand. The three of them could do it. They had strength and speed. All they had to do was sever the head from the shoulders and maybe with him gone, the Tripods would follow suit.

Ash rained down and Mina knew it was folly. Even if they defeated Dracula there was no defeating his army, and there was no getting close to Dracula with his Tripods watching. It was over. They were alone. The schoolmistress with the neck wound. The Alchemical Man. The Great Detective.

“It has been many centuries since I knew the thrill of conquest.” Dracula’s voice carried across the no man’s land that separated them. “Thank you for reminding me of my greatest joy.”

Mina started forward and the others followed in lock step. The guns on the Tripods hummed and started to glow. Maybe Adam would make it through. If just one of them got to Dracula it would be alright. Holmes limped beside her. The only mortal man among them. His friend’s sword cane gripped tight in his fist. The guns came about. Mina felt the hairs on her neck stand up. The air tasted like copper. This was it. Dead before they even struck a blow. Still they marched.

Dracula raised his fist and the glow of the Martian cannons dimmed ever so slightly. There was a tremor, and, though Mina might have imagined it, the Lord of Vampires looked scared. The ground cracked between them and a mass of stone rose to just about waist height. The sun, still blotted out by the clouds of smoke, seemed to shine upon it all the same. A sword, in the Roman style, stuck up from the rock.

Mina looked to Holmes. “Is it…?”

The man who was never surprised looked shocked. “The hour of greatest need” he whispered. “But no Arthur to wield it.”

When the ground had settled Dracula’s eyes fell on the sword. His thin, crimson lips split into a wicked sneer.

“No savior? Your legends betray you.” He raised his arms. “Come, strike me down if you dare.”

“Sod it” Mina felt her incisors threaten to burst and grow into real fangs. “Let’s end the f--ker.”

The three of them broke into a run. Mina’s legs carried her with the swiftness of the dead. She reached the count first and slashed at the Count’s head with Johnathan’s Kukri. The Count bent at the middle, pulling his upper body out of the path of the blade, which whistled harmlessly through the air. Still Mina pressed on. She fought with the speed and ferocity the Count had granted her when he tried to steal her soul. Slowly, inch by inch, the Count gave ground.

Then it was Adam’s turn. The Alchemical Man, last son of the House of Frankenstein swung his powerful arms at the Count, pummeling him to a degree that no mortal man could survive. But the count was not mortal. He took the blows, barely moving under the weight of Adam’s fists until…as Adam slowed, the Count lashed out and caught his arm. Using Adam’s own momentum against him he flung Adam through the air. The giant’s body sailed over no man’s land, landing in a heap at the base of the stone.

That was when Mina saw him. Broken and bloody, dark hair falling all across his grease streaked face. He looked like a great bird of prey that had been mangled after colliding with a mountain side. He clambered onto the rock and wrapped his spindly fingers around the hilt of the Roman sword. Dracula’s sneer faded and the ice in Mina’s veins began to crack.

There was no rage on the Great Detective’s face, no grin of triumph. He was all grim serenity. Mina doubted he even realized what pulling the sword meant. He was a knight, and there was sword and a dragon to be slain. As the blade slid from the stone Holmes’ body began to straighten. The wounds looked less severe. The limp was gone as he leaped off the stone. He pulled Adam to his feet and joined Mina before the count.

Now Dracula’s looked properly pissed. He drew his own sword from its scabbard and snarled like an animal.

“Your flayed skins will be my tapestries. Your blood will fill the moat of my stronghold. Your—”

Something crackled in Mina’s ear. It was the radio device Challenger had built to communicate with them…so long ago, before the tripods had landed, before Dracula had secured his victory.

“Misses Harker.” Mina’s breath caught in her throat. It couldn’t be. “Sorry we’re late.”

The clouds parted and Mina’s heart soared. There was a wall—not of Tripods but of familiar faces. It was…It was everyone. Challenger marched at their head, clutching the device of brass and wire that he had said would scramble men’s bodies, discorporating them so they might travel great distances in the blink of an eye. Behind him two Thunder Lizards roared, feathers bristling. Mina caught site of Challenger’s daughter and the reporter Malone on saddles atop the beasts. More mounts crested the hill, elephants in elaborate armor, and the boy from the jungle, Mowgli astride the head of herd. Lord Roxton and an assortment of soldiers, brandishing shiny brass rifles, Challenger’s designs. Loveday Brooke, Lestrade, Hopkins, and the women of Scotland Yard. The Doll Woman. The Egyptian witch. Then, atop white steeds—Mina’s heart soared—Johnathan, Arthur, Seward, and Quincey. Behind them Van Helsing, Carnacki, and Dr. Silence. Lucy, dark haired and pale skinned, flanked by two other vampire women, the Karnsteins. The Warriors of Maple White Land and the Emerald Army of the Otherworld formed ranks. A Tripod moved too close and one of the Thunder Lizards took its leg in its jaws and wrenched the thing to the ground.

“Sorry we’re late” Dr. Watson called from beside Challenger. “Had a devil of a time gathering the cavalry.”

Holmes’ face melted at the site of his friend. Mina clapped him on the shoulder. Dracula’s face shook with rage and—Mina was sure this time—fear.

Mina flashed her fangs. “The game’s afoot.”

Adam pumped his fists. “Follow your spirit, and upon this charge—”

Holmes raised the sword. “Cry God for Harry, England and Saint George.”

#Dracula #mina harker #Sherlock Holmes #frankenstein #Victorian Literature #MCU

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epicfangirl01 · 5 years

Text

Dead WIP Files: The Fallen

TW: Character death, mild gore, ego shipping

King Chase looked up from his throne, looking at the tapestries on the walls. Depictions of past kings hung down, their eyes boring into him. He could feel their anger, disappointment, and shame. Finally, his eyes landed on the tapestry of his brother. King Jack. So kind. So fair. He was more of a king than Chase would ever be. Tears fell from his eyes as he saw his brother’s smile. Chase covered his face and sobbed. *He should be here. He would know what to do…*

“Your Highness!”

Chase wiped his eyes and regained his composure as Jackie, captain of the royal guard, ran into the throne room. His face fell slightly as he looked at the king. *Dammit. He saw…* Jackie cleared his throat and spoke.

“The Dark King. He’s here, and his army is swarming the city. They’re going to storm the castle, and they have King Jack with them,” he reported urgently.

Chase’s eyes widened and he looked back up at his brother’s tapestry. *We have to save him.* He took a deep breath as he mustered his strength before turning to Jackie.

“Assemble the troops. Defend the city and send a team to rescue Jack. *Do not* let them into the castle.”

Jackie nodded. “Yes, Your Highness.” The captain turned and rushed out of the room.

“Your Highness,” Chase chuckled softly. Of course it was ‘Your Highness’. He wasn’t Jack. He was the prince, and that’s all he would ever be.

An hour later, Chase looked down the hill at his forces, watching as the Dark King and Blood Witch grew closer. He was clad in shining silver armor with a deep blue breastplate that was accented with vines of golden ivy. A golden crown of sapphires and emeralds sat on Chase’s head, the band covered in carefully sculpted leaves and vines.

Chase took a deep breath and his face filled with determination. His brother was coming home. He was sure of it. Chase turned to a general, looking over the formation of the two armies and making adjustments. “Send archers to the woods behind the castle to perch in the bushes and trees. Disperse after finding coverage.” The general nodded and left to command her troops.

Minute by minute, the Dark Forces gained land, coming closer to the castle.Chase cursed under his breath, rubbing his face with a gloved hand. He barely heard the drawing of a sword over him.

Chase rolled out of the way as an assassin leapt down, lowering their sword where he stood only a moment ago. The king unsheathed his sword and turned, facing his foe. His blade swiped, connecting with the assassin’s leg, lodging into their calf. They grunted and swung their sword toward Chase’s neck. He quickly ducked and grabbed their wrist. With a swift twist, the assassin was disarmed. Chase slashed and their head fell away from their neck, hitting the ground with a thud. *Just like you taught me, huh, Jack?*

“Your Highness!”

Jackie ran over to Chase, bringing two royal guardsmen with him. “You have to get inside. We need to evacuate the castle. The enemy’s forces are too strong. We have to get you out of here. *Now.*”

Suddenly, a loud boom filled the air, and Chases turned to see an army of demons, witches, and creatures break through the doors to the castle keep. Enemies flooded into the yard, attacking Solas soldiers. Jackie grabbed Chase’s arm and started pulling him away. The group ran through the castle, making their way to the throne room.

Crashes and bangs rang out through the halls, filling their ears. Finally, they reached the throne room and Jackie pushed the door open. The soldiers quickly barricaded the door behind them before turning to the king. “Your Highness, you have to get out of here. They will take you to a safe house in the woods. From there, we can regroup. Take the tunnel underneath the throne. My soldiers will guide you. We need to get you out before the Dark King and Witch find you.” Before Chase could reply, the soldiers rushed past him, making their way over to the throne. Jackie hurried over to the window, scanning the castle grounds below. Hordes of demons, fae, and Ghlórian soldiers swarmed the stone walls, slaughtering the Solasian army.

A loud thud drew the group’s attention back to the ornate wooden doors. Fear crossed Jackie’s face for a moment before turning to determination. Jackie grabbed Chase’s arm again as another thud rang out, guiding him to the revealed passageway.

Chase’s mind was racing, images flashing in his mind. Clashing swords. Bleeding corpses. A screaming Jack. Chase’s blood ran cold, and he pulled his arm away. *I cannot leave him. He needs me.*

“Go. Evacuate the castle and save everyone you can,” he commanded.

Jackie gazed at him incredulously. “Sir, I am not leaving. I swore on my life that I would protect the royal family until my dying breath.” An even louder bang came from the door. Chase's face hardened, and he put his hand on the hilt of his sword.

“I am tired of running. My brother needs me, as does my kingdom. Leave me. Protect the civilians. That's an order.”

Jackie looked at him for a moment before giving a small nod. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

He turned away from the King and ran over to the secret passage, jumping in after the soldiers. He hesitated for a moment and glanced at Chase. “May the gods be with you,” he said before disappearing, the throne pushed back into place. The wooden doors thudded once more, and Chase turned to face them, drawing out his sword. He got into a defensive position, waiting.

….

Silence filled the room as Chase stared at the doors. His heart was pounding out of his chest, dreading whatever was to come. Suddenly, the doors burst open, booming as a rush of green magic broke through the barred entrance.

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This fic was planned to be an instalment of @cutewarmachine 's Twisted Disney Community AU, where every version of the tale is cannon, because it is changed as it's retold like old folktales. This fic is probably the one that I'm most proud of, tied with Remembrance. I had a lot planned, as you can see, and of course I stopped right at the climax. What was supposed to happen next was that Anti and Marvin, The Dark King and Queen, were supposed to walk in dramatically like they owned the place. And they do. They walk arm in arm and stare down the "false king", Chase. Of course, they would be slaying the whole place, especially Marvin because he's a fierce and sassy queen that can make your cells combust with a passing glance. And Anti absolutely adores Marvin and is still the twisted sick bastard that everyone loves to the power of 10. Anyway, they would give him one chance to stand down and be their little pet before bringing in their biggest weapon. Chase, blinded by his love and devotion to his brother and kingdom, refuses and immediately regrets his decision. Jack would then walk in with his royal armor corrupted and adorning the Ghlórian colors and crest, along with a crown of black thorns. He was cursed, brainwashed, and trained by Anti to serve him and swear his undying loyalty to the Dark King and Blood Witch. Wielding the sword Chase gave him for his coronation, he's commanded to kill Chase. Chase is torn and continues to defend himself, pleading for Jack to listen. Since Jack taught Chase, he knew every skill and mastered it years before. Chase fights on with all he has before he gets stabbed in the stomach. He collapses and falls limp, the last thing he saw was Anti and Marvin taking the thrown with Jack at their feet, staring with cold dead eyes. As you can see, I was super passionate about this story, and I wish I could have finished it. Who knows. Maybe some day. A couple notes I wanted to add were for the kingdom names and an explanation of Jackie saying "Your highness". Jack's kingdom, the kingdom of Solas, is Gaelic for "light". Anti and Marvin's kingdom, the kingdom of Ghlóir, is also Gaelic and means "glory". I wanted to show the contrast of the two kingdoms drastically, so I found words in Gaelic and I thought that it was a nice touch to the story. Finally, I wanted to explain a little about why Jackie kept calling Chase "your highness". Technically Chase was made king at this time, in Jack's absence. Jackie was close to the two brothers, but Jack was definitely the most diplomatic and outgoing. Jack was the heir to the throne, and Chase didn't mind, since he was just happy with his brother. When Jack was captured, the kingdom never gave up hope of finding their list king. Chase was king, but everyone always thought of him as he was in charge until Jack returned. Jackie was friends to them both, and he never wanted to upset Chase. He didn't even realize that he was calling Chase a prince. Chase was always the more whimsical and laid back brother, so he was always seen as the little brother. At the end of the story, Chase had taken so much responsibility while keeping a clear head that he truly proved himself to be a king. Jackie still didn't realize that that was the first time he called Chase a king, but he was very proud of him in that moment. Unfortunately, it came too late and the kingdom fell to dark hands. I love this story so much. In fact, as inspiration, I listened to "Ready, Aim, Fire" by Imagine Dragons when I was trying to brainstorm or get in the zone. And that's it! That's my first Dead WIP File. I hope you guys like it, and if you want to finish my fic off, I'm completely open to new changes or interpretations. Just please give me credit for my portion of the fic/inspiration as well as give credit to @cutewarmachine for his amazing idea. Rems if you're reading this, I hope you liked it and I hope I made you proud. I look up to you so much. Thank you for being one of my writing idols. Thanks for reading, guys! 💖💖💖 -Mya

#character death #gore #GORE TW #tw mild gore #ego shipping #Dead WIP files

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hoardofhyperfixations · 5 years

Text

Spell

Based on this by @sweetest-honeybee

Warnings: Violence, possession, blood, sympathetic deceit

Pairings: platonic dlamp, prinxiety, background logicality, platonic anxceit

Genre: Uhhhhhh

Summary: Something's wrong with Roman.

Notes: I started this ages ago.

It had started out normal enough, with them all going out to the Imagination to help and watch Roman on a quest. Patton even convinced Deceit to come with them, with promise of no Dragon Witch this time.

So that turned out to be a little bit of lie...alright, fine.

It was a pretty big lie.

Because now, Roman was standing with his arms outstretched protectively in front of them as he stared up at the Dragon Witch. Only, the witch didn't seem worried in the slightest. She cackled, a black mist surrounding her hands. The Dragon Witch waved her hands, then thrust them out towards Roman.

Patton clung to his boyfriend Logan, blue eyes wide. Deceit was backing up quickly and Virgil was ready to help fight if necessary.

He wasn't ready for the black mist to wrap around Roman and turn his eyes pure black. He wasn't prepared to have Roman tense up, then relax and turn around. And he definitely wasn't ready for Roman to start to pull out his sword with a wide but distant grin.

"Princey...?" Virgil said hesitantly, biting his lip.

"Virgillll~" Roman replied in a mocking, sing-song voice as he unsheathed his sword from it's place on his hip. "C'mere, let's talk~"

"Princey, what are you doing?" Virgil asked more urgently, backing up slowly. The prince followed. Instead of answering, he just hummed a tune and pointed his sword at Virgil.

"Creativity-?" Deceit cut himself off with a yelp as Roman swung the sword to point at him. "Woah- woah- Roman, put the sword away." He stuttered, stumbling back and directly into Patton. Roman's katana had always frightened him after being on the business end of it one too many times.

"Ro, kiddo, please put the sword down?" Patton spoke slowly and carefully, clinging onto Logan's arm. "There's no need to swing that sword around at us, buddy." Logan's eyes were wide behind his thick black frames, swallowing.

"P-Patton is correct, Roman." Logan bit his lip, glancing at Patton and stepping more in front of him with a protective look in his eyes. Roman still had that sickeningly calm and happy expression, dazed smile still present as he let his head tilt to the side.

Virgil took a step forward.

"Princey." Roman's gaze snapped to him, turning around again and slashing at him. Virgil jumped out of the way but still ended up with a cut in his side, bleeding onto the inside of his hoodie a bit. He ignored the sharp and sudden pain. "R-Roman."

Surprisingly enough, Roman did pause. Then he stepped forward, pressing the tip of the blade against Virgil's chest.

"Kill him." The Dragon Witch demanded.

"Roman, please." Virgil spoke, voice cracking a bit. Roman ignored him. Virgil felt like he was going to throw up but ignored it and leaned forward, the sword pressing harder against his chest. It would probably start to hurt if more pressure were applied.

"Do it." The Dragon Witch urged, grinning maliciously and showing off her sharp teeth. Roman's pure black eyes met Virgil's own and he felt tears well in his eyes at the coldness of his glare. "Do it."

"Roman." Virgil started to say as the sword pressed harder into him and broke the skin, hissing a bit at the pain. "Roman, it's Virgil. You remember, don't- don't you? Jack Smellington...? Hot- Hot Topic?" His voice shook and crack, but it hitched on 'Hot Topic.'

And he knows. He knows Logan and Deceit are keeping a trembling Patton from rushing forward and pulling Virgil away to safety. He knows they're trembling themselves. He knows this a dangerous game he's playing, but most of all, he knows this isn't Roman.

And Virgil wants Roman back.

"Shut up." Roman growls and Virgil almost whimpers, almost scurries off and runs and leaves the prince behind. But he doesn't, and he instead notices the hand clutching the sword is shaking ever so slightly.

"No. Roman, come on." Virgil looked up at Roman, determined to get through to him. The black mist that seemed to swirl around him was thinning. "You know me, Princey."

"You...you..." Roman faltered, lowering the sword slightly.

"What are you doing?" The Dragon Witch seemed to be getting slightly panicky as her plan was failing. "I said to kill him!" Roman scowled, raising his katana. Virgil took and chance and pushed the blade to the side. Luckily, the prince was still recovering from his falter so it wasn't hard to do.

Now for the risky part.

Virgil grabbed Roman's sash, getting on his tippy toes and kissing him; not exactly how he'd wanted his first kiss to go, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

Besides it's not all that bad as Roman tensed then relaxed, his free hand pressing against the small of Virgil's back. He doesn't know whether to squeal at the fact that Roman's kissing him back or sob in relief that Roman's back. The reality of the situation came crashing over Virgil; He's kissing Roman in front of Patton, Logan, Deceit and a very pissed off Dragon Witch.

He quickly let go of the prince, stepping back hurriedly.

"Princey-" Virgil looked up and was met with slightly dazed and extremely confused brown eyes that made him pause for a moment. "Princey, Roman, turn around. Take care of the Dragon Witch and we'll talk about, uh, our relationship afterwards." He was unreasonably proud of himself for getting that out without stuttering and Roman blinked, grinned, nodded, and turned around, sword pointed at the angry foe.

The air was knocked out of Virgil's lungs as he was tackled to the ground by a familiar warmth.

"Kiddo! That was so brave!" Patton said excitedly in a hushed tone, getting off him and pulling Virgil to his feet. Virgil shrugged, exhausted despite not doing much physical work. Patton doesn't press him to speak as he lead him over to where the other two waited. Logan fussed over Virgil like a mother hen and Deceit just hugged him. He relaxed a bit at the familiar sounds of Roman fighting an enemy, the sword slicing through the air.

Roman was back, and he'd done it.

General Taglist: @superkat500 @all-hail-red-leader @demonvirgil @llamaavocado @angels-ofthe-sea @anyay666 @detroit-become-pan @kaioanxiety @definitely-a-plant

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hitchell-mope · 5 years

Text

Dizzy (slams down her Alice in wonderland book on Hadie’s coffee table): So you’re telling me my fat speckled rabbit is actually a Bandersnatch?

Hadie: yes.

Dizzy: you’re pulling my leg aren’t you. There’s no way he

Hadie: she.

Dizzy: what?

Hadie: she kid. She. All Bandersnatch are female.

Dizzy: why?

Hadie: the white tyrant only raises female Bandersnatch as her attack dogs. The card guards on the other hand are male. The illusion of toughness but really weak and papery and easy to tear.

Dizzy: wait. Isn’t wonderland supposed to be a utopia. Full of whimsy and wonder and

Hadie: drinks that make you shrink. Food that makes you grow. Flamingos that double as croquet mallets. And a family that has one psychopath each generation. Usually a girl.

Dizzy: that’s a bit sexist.

Hadie: it is. It really is. Nobody knows why it is. My guess is that one day one of them decided to cut off a butterflies wings and then there was no going back

Dizzy: cool

Hadie: you good lady are a freaky little child you know that right

Dizzy: ah ha ha I’m twelve so shut the f

Doug (warningly): Desiree?

Dizzy: ...udge up.

Doug: nice save.

Hadie: I thought so yes (he takes sip of his bourbon)

Wonderland. The tyrants dungeons. Evie is pacing the floor of the cell whereas Harry is just dozing in a corner with his hat over his eyes. Evie takes the hat and hits him with it in his head

Evie: don’t just sit there. Help me escape

Harry (scoffs): why? Uma shall come for me

Evie (badly imitating his accent): for all she knows you were killed instantly.

Harry: Oh now dear me. Look what you’ve been reduced to. Poking fun at at a helpless mans accent.

Evie: well it is very easy to make fun of you

Harry: do you even have a plan. Your magic is blocked. So is mine. My hook and sword were confiscated. You probably rely on magic to get you by. So we, to use common phrasage, are fucked.

Evie:...riot.

Harry: huh

(Evie starts beating him up while screaming “riot” at the top of her lungs. He gives as good as he gets and pretty soon they’re both bloodied messes. Evie’s about to tear a clump if hair from his scalp when Wilhelmina opens the cell door)

Wilhelmina: don’t stop on my account. Please resume killing each other.

(Evie slams Harry’s head down onto the wooden bench splintering it in two)

Evie: on my authority as the queen of witches and wife of the saviour I demand you release me

Wilhelmina: and what of him?

(She gestures to Harry who looks like he’s working out the best way to slash Evie’s throat)

Evie: if I’m to be lucky he shall choke on his own blood. Or his tongue. Blood or tongue. Whichever’s first or second he most painful way to die.

Wilhelmina: ooh that’s a little sadistic. I quite like it. Now give me your arm

Evie: no.

Wilhelmina: will it help if I say please?

Evie: not particularly no.

Wilhelmina: oh for crissakes. Give me. Your arm. Now!

(Reluctantly Evie does so. Wilhelmina removes the cuff)

Evie: now you see. You really shouldn’t have done that

(She sends the white tyrant flying back wards with a bolt of blue electricity then puts the cuff on Harry’s other wrist.)

Harry: what the fuck?

Evie: good bye you whorish dickhead.

(She slams the door shut with magic and disappears in a puff of sapphire blue smoke. Harry shakes the bars screaming in impotent rage)

(Auradon Massachusetts. Jane walks into Hadie’s apartment looking like death warmed up)

Hadie: lemme guess. Good night or bad night?

Jane: my bedroom floor is more uncomfortable then the beds at the convent.

Hadie: ahhh then good night. Up top

Jane: I gave Evangeline my bed. Carlos is in the pull out in the living room. So I slept on my bedroom floor. I finally managed to get some shut eye when she stepped on my throat on the way to the bathroom. I feel like Meredith Grey.

Dizzy: huh?

Hadie: never mind. Well Janey look at it this way. Your doing a good thing.

Jane: yeah when you’re right you’re right.

Hadie: and perhaps you could politely ask a certain landlord that’s smitten with Evangeline to share his apartment with her. Wink wink nudge nudge.

Dizzy: yes! Dad please. Please please please please

(She goes on like this for a minute and a half until Hadie shoves a biscotti in her mouth)

Hadie (deadpan): yeah dad please

Doug: it’s not appropriate.

Hadie: Doug. Honey. Your the saviour of our world. You can indulge your desires.

Dizzy: then I’ll have a mother. And then you’ll finally be off my back long enough for me to steal your entire supply of cognac.

Doug: reasons three to a million and 99 why it can’t happen.

Jane: and reason one and two.

Doug: one. Mrs Channing is a married woman. Two. I am her employer. It would be so inappropriate

Hadie: you’re risking societal suicide just by acknowledging my existence. I highly doubt much would be changed by you getting a leg

Doug: My daughter is in the room

Dizzy: dad. There’s this things called the internet. It has all manner of things that would shock your system if you found out. So I already know what Hadrian’s gonna say

Hadie: and what exactly do you think I was gonna say?

Doug: I too would like to know what you think he was going to say

Jane: oh this should be good

Dizzy: I’m gonna do my homework now

(She leaves the room)

Hadie: now where were we

(La Bete)

Uma: get him back! Get him back now or I swear I’ll...

Hadie: you’ll what? Not cast the curse. Realise the sacrifice of your children were all for naught ack

(Uma’s pulled out his heart. She’s grown tentacles and her eyes a glowing a furious turquoise)

Uma: YOU WILL GET HIM BACK FOR ME.

Hadie (feeling defiant despite the pain): I don’t have to do jackshit for you or my bastard brother ah

(She’s started to squeeze his heart)

Uma: AND I DONT GIVE SHIT ABOUT YOU OR YOUR DEGENERATE SISTER. I WONT REST UNTIL I HAVE WIPED YOU HER AND HER FOLLOWERS OFF THE FACE OF THIS EARTH. I DONT CARE HOW MANY LIVES I RUIN. HOW MANY MAGICAL GNATS DROP DOWN DEAD.

Dizzy: put his heart back

Hadie: Dizzy you don’t need to do this.

Dizzy: oh but I want to. I read the inscription on this thing. Whoever wields it must be listened to. Well I’m wielding it so Uma had better fucking listen.

(Uma sends a tentacle to the girls throat. Before Doug has time to react Dizzy’s already cut the aquatic limb off. Uma squeals in pain, drops Hadie’s heart and falls to her knees)

Uma: I’d sooner bow to that (she gestured to Mal who’s looking extraordinarily guilty)

Dizzy: in that case. Are you ready to lose the other one?

(Wonderland)

(Harry’s pacing in his cell. Wilhelmina’s unconscious form lying in front of him. He gets angrier and angrier. Bright blood red flames dance under his skin)

(Elsewhere. Evie’s run into a room of mirrors. In the middle of the room sits very graceful lady. A few years older then her dressed in pirates clothing)

The lady: oh thank goodness little brother. I thought you’d gotten lost and you are not Harry

Evie: I count myself lucky every day for that. Now. Who the fuck are you?

Lady: who the fuck are you?

Evie: I asked you first. And seeing as I’m the queen of witches and you’re nothing but a disgusting no account pirate I outrank you.

Lady: very well then. My name is Harriet. Sister to Harry and CJ. Eldest daughter of the late James. Captain of the Braveheart. Now. Where is my brother. Tell me now or I shall have to slit you from stem to stern. And this is a new sword one of my husbands gifted it to me on our second anniversary So is hate to dirty it with blood from a common witch. I’m saving it for a dragon. After all. Witches are small fish. Now. Where. Is. My. Brother?

#disney descendants #dark curse #hadie descendants #dizzy tremaine #evie grimhilde #harry hook #gilumarry #harriet hook #white queen

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julibf · 5 years

Text

WHY I BELIEVE JON SNOW WILL FATHER A BASTARD.....

So, this is one of my theories that I will very happy if I am wrong, but that is starting to look more and more probable to happen for me. I have been using the Search of Ice and Fire in the past few days looking for foreshadow of Jon fathering a bastard and voila, its actually a quite theme to find on Jon’s story.

"You don't know what you're asking, Jon. The Night's Watch is a sworn brotherhood. We have no families. None of us will ever father sons. Our wife is duty. Our mistress is honor."

"A bastard can have honor too," Jon said. "I am ready to swear your oath."

"You are a boy of fourteen," Benjen said. "Not a man, not yet. Until you have known a woman, you cannot understand what you would be giving up."

Jon felt anger rise inside him. "I'm not your son!"

Benjen Stark stood up. "More's the pity." He put a hand on Jon's shoulder. "Come back to me after you've fathered a few bastards of your own, and we'll see how you feel."

Jon trembled. "I will never father a bastard," he said carefully. "Never!" He spat it out like venom.

A GAME OF THRONES – JON I

*******************************************************************************************

"But it's a lie," Jon insisted. How could they think his father was a traitor, had they all gone mad? Lord Eddard Stark would never dishonor himself … would he?

He fathered a bastard, a small voice whispered inside him. Where was the honor in that? And your mother, what of her? He will not even speak her name.

A GAME OF THRONES – JON VII

*******************************************************************************************

"My steward and squire, Jon Snow."

"A bastard, is it?" Craster looked Jon up and down. "Man wants to bed a woman, seems like he ought to take her to wife. That's what I do." He shooed Jon off with a wave. "Well, run and do your service, bastard, and see that axe is good and sharp now, I've no use for dull steel."

A CLASH OF KINGS – JON III

*******************************************************************************************

“You are a free man now, and Ygritte is a free woman. What dishonor if you lay together?"

"I might get her with child."

"Aye, I'd hope so. A strong son or a lively laughing girl kissed by fire, and where's the harm in that?"

Words failed him for a moment. "The boy . . . the child would be a bastard."

"Are bastards weaker than other children? More sickly, more like to fail?"

"No, but—"

"You're bastard-born yourself. And if Ygritte does not want a child, she will go to some woods witch and drink a cup o' moon tea. You do not come into it, once the seed is planted."

"I will not father a bastard."

A Storm of Swords - Jon II

*******************************************************************************************

When the dreams took him, he found himself back home once more, splashing in the hot pools beneath a huge white weirwood that had his father's face. Ygritte was with him, laughing at him, shedding her skins till she was naked as her name day, trying to kiss him, but he couldn't, not with his father watching. He was the blood of Winterfell, a man of the Night's Watch. I will not father a bastard, he told her. I will not. I will not. "You know nothing, Jon Snow," she whispered, her skin dissolving in the hot water, the flesh beneath sloughing off her bones until only skull and skeleton remained, and the pool bubbled thick and red.

A Storm of Swords - Jon VI

*******************************************************************************************

They still think me a turncloak. That was a bitter draft to drink, but Jon could not blame them. He was a bastard, after all. Everyone knew that bastards were wanton and treacherous by nature, having been born of lust and deceit.

A Storm of Swords - Jon VII

*******************************************************************************************

A couple of them saw Jon looking down from atop the King's Tower and waved up at him. Others turned away. They still think me a turncloak. That was a bitter draft to drink, but Jon could not blame them. He was a bastard, after all. Everyone knew that bastards were wanton and treacherous by nature, having been born of lust and deceit.

A Storm of Swords - Jon VII

BTW, those quotes its what made me believe in the Political Jon theories. A bastard child born from lust and deceit fits boatbaby like a glove.

*******************************************************************************************

Bastard children were born from lust and lies, men said; their nature was wanton and treacherous. Once Jon had meant to prove them wrong, to show his lord father that he could be as good and true a son as Robb. I made a botch of that. Robb had become a hero king; if Jon was remembered at all, it would be as a turncloak, an oathbreaker, and a murderer. He was glad that Lord Eddard was not alive to see his shame.

A Storm of Swords - Jon X

*******************************************************************************************

Every morning they had trained together, since they were big enough to walk; Snow and Stark, spinning and slashing about the wards of Winterfell, shouting and laughing, sometimes crying when there was no one else to see. They were not little boys when they fought, but knights and mighty heroes. "I'm Prince Aemon the Dragonknight," Jon would call out, and Robb would shout back, "Well, I'm Florian the Fool." Or Robb would say, "I'm the Young Dragon," and Jon would reply, "I'm Ser Ryam Redwyne."

That morning he called it first. "I'm Lord of Winterfell!" he cried, as he had a hundred times before. Only this time, this time, Robb had answered, "You can't be Lord of Winterfell, you're bastard-born. My lady mother says you can't ever be the Lord of Winterfell."

I thought I had forgotten that. Jon could taste blood in his mouth, from the blow he'd taken.

A Storm of Swords - Jon XII

There is a reason why George RRMartin made Jon repeat so many times that he will never father a bastard. This has to be one of the most foreshadowed events of ASOAIF. Jon Snow will father a bastard child with Daenerys Targaryen. But I believe that the decision of hiding this girl will also involve Sansa.

Sansa its only true born child from Ned and Catelyn that had to live as a bastard herself in order to survive her family tragedy. She even got the feel in her own skin how badly bastard children are seeing and treated on Westeros

*******************************************************************************************

"Varys has informers everywhere. If Sansa Stark should be seen in the Vale, the eunuch will know within a moon's turn, and that would create unfortunate . . . complications. It is not safe to be a Stark just now. So we shall tell Lysa's people that you are my natural daughter."

"Natural?" Sansa was aghast. "You mean, a bastard?"

"Well, you can scarcely be my trueborn daughter. I've never taken a wife, that's well known. What should you be called?"

A Storm of Swords - Sansa VI

****************************************************************************************

"You are in the Falcon Tower, Ser Harrold," Alayne put in. Far away from Sweetrobin. That was intentional, she knew. Petyr Baelish did not leave such things to chance. "If it please you, I will show you to your chambers myself." This time her eyes met Harry's. She smiled just for him, and said a silent prayer to the Maiden. Please, he doesn't need to love me, just make him like me, just a little, that would be enough for now.

Ser Harrold looked down at her coldly. "Why should it please me to be escorted anywhere by Littlefinger's bastard?" ……..

…..A lady's armor is her courtesy. Alayne could feel the blood rushing to her face. No tears, she prayed. Please, please, I must not cry. "As you wish, ser. And now if you will excuse me, Littlefinger's bastard must find her lord father and let him know that you have come, so we can begin the tourney on the morrow."

The Winds of Winter - Alayne I

*******************************************************************************************

"The world is full of horrors, sweet. By now you ought to know that. You've seen enough of them."

"Yes," she said, "but why must he be so cruel? He called me your bastard. Right in the yard, in front of everyone."

"So far as he knows, that's who you are. This betrothal was never his idea, and Bronze Yohn has no doubt warned him against my wiles. You are my daughter.

The Winds of Winter - Alayne I

*******************************************************************************************

To make this theory even more possible, we have this scene on season 3 Episode 2 that was written specifically for the show, this dialogue never happened in the books. In the scene, Catelyn tells Tallissa that at some point she thought of telling Ned to make Jon a Stark, “to give the boy our name and make him one of us”.

CATELYN - When my husband brought that baby home from the war, I couldn't bear to look at him. I didn't want to see those brown stranger's eyes staring up at me. So I prayed to the gods, take him away. Make him die. He got the pox. And I knew I was the worst woman who ever lived. A murderer. I'd condemned this poor, innocent child to a horrible death all because I was jealous of his mother. A woman he didn't even know. So I prayed to all seven gods, let the boy live. Let him live and I'll love him. I'll be a mother to him. I'll beg my husband to give him a true name, to call him Stark and be done with it, to make him one of us.

TALISSA - And he lived.

CATELYN - And he lived. And I couldn't keep my promise. And everything that's happened since then... all this horror that's come to my family... it's all because I couldn't love a motherless child.

Then in A Storm of Swords - Sansa II we have what I believe a very big clue from George RRMartin himself.

She pictured the two of them sitting together in a garden with puppies in their laps, or listening to a singer strum upon a lute while they floated down the Mander on a pleasure barge. If I give him sons, he may come to love me. She would name them Eddard and Brandon and Rickon, and raise them all to be as valiant as Ser Loras. And to hate Lannisters, too. In Sansa's dreams, her children looked just like the brothers she had lost. Sometimes there was even a girl who looked like Arya.

A Storm of Swords - Sansa II

Here we have Sansa dreaming about her future children, yet she never calls the little girl her daughter, the text makes sure to describe the child as “a girl.”

This passage always reminded me of this one from A GAME OF THRONES.

Ned thought, If it came to that, the life of some child I did not know, against Robb and Sansa and Arya and Bran and Rickon, what would I do? Even more so, what would Catelyn do, if it were Jon's life, against the children of her body? He did not know. He prayed he never would.

A Game of Thrones - Eddard XII

Notice that Ned never thinks about Jon’s name while naming his children? This was one of our biggest clues who lead us all to R+L=J.

Since I believe that Jon and Sansa will marry on season 8 and rule Westeros together I now believe that both of them are gonna lie in order to protect this girl. If anyone finds out she is the Queen of Ashes daughter, her life would be in great danger. Jon and Sansa will do the opposite of Ned Stark.

Ned brought a true born prince home and raised as his bastard child in order to protect Jon; Jon will bring home his bastard daughter, and raise her as trueborn child in order to protect her. I believe Sansa will lie and tell people that the child its hers. They will give them their Stark name and raise the baby as one of them. Sansa will love the child and be a mother to them. The story of Game of Thrones started with Ned Stark starting a war to prevent a bastard son of Cersei Lannister to sit in the Throne and it will end with a bastard daughter of Jon Snow as the heir of the Throne.

History repeat itself and in the end, there wont be much difference between Starks and Lannister, they all lie to protect the ones they love.“The things we do for love” will still be the theme of the story in the end….

Remember when I wrote in another meta that now I believe Jon will pass HER name to all HIS children? Yep, I believe that they will make boatbaby a Stark to protect her. BTW, this would

A FATHER’S DAUGHTER....

A SONG OF ICE AND FIRE its many tales in one; this is a tale of a dragon prince madly in love with a Wolf girl; this is also a tale about home and families; about the things we do for love; its also a story about slow learners who make several mistakes but that eventually do learn in the end........but ALSO, A SONG OF ICE AND FIRE is a story about father’s daughters. And that’s exactly what Arya, Sansa, Cersei, Daenerys, Brienne all are. These women are their father’s daughters. That’s why the show gave so much importance on those character’s fathers and hardly touched the mothers relevance. (if we remove Catelyns, the mothers have almost been non existenting in the show)

No one thought Sansa and Daenerys had much of their fathers in themselves, those two characters were always associated with their mothers, yet they will prove to all of us that they carry much of their Eddar and Aerys inside of them in the last part of this story.

SPOILERS – We also have this casting call for season 8, that asked for a young girl with sad eyes and to me, this screams Jon Snow daughter, so, that’s another reason I am basing this theory.

Now, I totally agree with @theirwinterfell when she says that Sansa will have a son with Jon, but remember that George RRMartin told Alfie Allen that the story will be similar to Star Wars ending, and in that story, a queen gave birth to twins, a girl and a boy. So, I am starting to believe that Sansa will give birth to a son, but both Jon and Sansa will present their “twins” to the court, which is why they hinted that Sam may assist in a birth in the future. If they want this secret to be kept at all costs, the only person allowed in the birth room would be Sammuel Tarly, Jon Snow most trusted friend. Just like Ned trusted Howland Reed to keep Jon Snow birth in absolutely secret.

PS- Now, I want to make sure that I do not like this theory. I find quite offensive, no woman should in order to prove they are a good mother, love her husband bastard children or the children he may have with other women. Sansa does not need to be a loving mother to Jon Snow bastard child to prove she is a good mother, or she is not like her mother (something the fandom believes to be a negative point); she already proved she is different from Catelyn whe she embraced Jon as a real Stark on season 6. But this is George RRMartin, and when I was studying Jon’s story arc, the foreshadowing of him fathering a bastard is quite simple too big to ignore, sooooooo

#jonsa #jonsa is endgame #sansa stark #jon x sansa

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