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goldeneyedgirl · 4 months

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TwiFicmas23 Day 2: In the Dark of the Night 2 (Eye of the Storm)

Good evening everyone! I hope your December is going well and slightly more organized than mine! I am also exhausted, so please excuse any ridiculous errors.

Tonight, we have a section from the sequel to In the Dark of the Night; Cryptid Alice-verse is a favorite of mine - the world is bonkers, Alice is nuts, and Jasper is just here for a good time. This was requested by an anon early in the year, and I was happy to add it to the list. (Heads up, for 2024, I am changing how ficmas requests work for my own sanity.)

This is a very early first draft of this fic, so everything and anything is liable to be retconned but we're here for vibes above all else. I highly recommend reading the first story or this is going to be extra weird.

tw: allusions to rape & abuse; generalized descriptions of body horror.

eye of the storm.

The coloured lights flash over the room at random - hundreds of sweaty, reeking human bodies and the kind of music that rattles its way through your bones. It’s loud and dark and has become one of Alice’s favourite places in a very long time. The raves in Berlin - and most of Europe - are the easiest places to hunt.

The music is good, too. And she loves to dance.

She blends in well enough, with the skin-tight skirt and the top that only covers up the bare minimum, and the artfully smudged makeup. Enticing enough to catch attention, but not memorable enough that she’s at risk. Not that it would matter that much, but she prefers to be just another face in the crowd.

It allows her to hunt for longer in one place, when she’s utterly forgettable.

She orders a drink, and then another, because human alcohol makes her feel warm and her limbs feel looser. It makes dancing better, and the people easier with her - some of them can sense that she is not like them, that she is something old and complex and terrible. The alcohol makes her more likeable, more human, even when it’s her imbibing it.

But her head is still clear when she finds a mark, when he sidles up to her with undeserved confidence. He’s the kind of smug that comes from money and a lack of consequences. She doesn’t miss the pill in her next drink or the way his smile widens when she tosses the drink back like water. The effect of the pill is minimal on her; it manifests several moments later, when they’re sneaking upstairs to the store rooms, past the velvet rope blocking the narrow steps. She stumbles on her high heels and he chuckles low; unfriendly and the kind of laugh that would chill anyone else.

And then her dizziness passes, and she almost pities him.

It goes the same way as always - he thinks he’s got the upper hand; she acts enthusiastic to his ministrations and she knows he almost feels bad - mostly that he wasted whatever tranquilliser he slipped into her drink, not about the harm he planned for her.

Her venom tingles on his lips and tongue, and he blames the drink or five he’s had and settles in.

She thinks about asking him some questions once her venom addles him, questions she shouldn’t know to ask. About girls and pills, about hurting and pain, about the haunted little sister he’s not allowed to see anymore.

But that’s not why she’s here, and would just agitate him. It always gets messy when they get agitated; she hates it when they panic.

Luckily, he’s easily subdued because she’s absolutely starving. Probably the alcohol. Her venom does funny things when alcohol is in the mix.

She’s not in the mood to take her time and be neat about this; she tears into him like an animal - first is that ephemeral part of him that humans have no word for him. The sacred part, similar to a soul. The pain of that defies understanding; she remembers hers being flayed from her being, once. Punishment for poor judgement. Humans’ are delicious and she savours it.

It’s all over too quickly, and she leaves him behind without looking back - lying in the middle of that dark, dirty room with the music ponding through the floor. His throat ripped out and ragged, and his chest cavity open, gleaming wet and red but hollowed out for her hunger. His left femur is broken; a rather pitiful attempt at a protest.

The blood on her skin and in her hair sinks in, pulled through to other hungry parts of her in different points of time and space. She’s nothing and nobody, and no one pays attention as she slips back to the bar for one last drink; sugar sweet enough to make her teeth ache but with that hot dry burn she enjoys more than she should.

It’ll be at least a day, if not two, before they find him. A horrific death, the work of a psychopath. A little sister will hide in her bed to muffle her relief that he’s gone and never, ever coming home. Almost a dozen girls will smile at the knowledge that he might not face a judge and jury, but something took their pound of flesh.

But her messiness means that she’ll only have another night or two before she has to move on. She’ll eat again, and that should last her for a while.

A pity. She liked Berlin.

—

The next night - her grand finale before she leaves for Norway - is a grown-ass man who shouldn’t be offering her the things he whispers in her ear, shouldn’t be sliding his hands up her stocking-clad leg - shouldn’t have even approached her and brazenly taken a seat at her booth.

This time, it’s in an all-night coffee shop with dim lighting and a faint haze that comes from carelessly bold patrons lighting up at the late hour. She demurs and gives the old pervert every opportunity to leave, but he laughs at her and boxes her into the booth, and the look in his eyes is hard and absolute.

She’s never been fixed in time and space, so she can see exactly the path that this old bastard has planned for her - either she consents or he takes it by force. He will hurt her if he needs to, like he has to other young girls before, some of them his students.

The shadow he casts has his wife, his daughter, his mother cowering from rage and violence. He won’t be missed. So she pretends to be afraid, to be cowed by his aggression, allows him to drag her out of the booth by her elbow. She lets the flesh mottle and bruise, lets him feel like the predator.

She lets it last as long as it takes for him to find a place where no one will hear her scream. She even lets him push her out of her shoes, but that’s no loss - she wishes she’d gotten the purple.

And then when he’s staring down at her, his eyes greedy and violent, she smiles and she takes her prize.

He dies in that alley, his eyes wide in terror as he faces down the kind of demon that are only meant to be found in books. Disappointingly, the honour of the killing blow goes to the dumpster he fell again, slamming his neck against the edge hard enough to break bones. She always likes the sound and the flavour when their deaths are her own.

He’s gone before she even tastes him; she’d wish him a speedy trip to hell, but some say that’s where she was born. And the parts of his essence and soul she’s going to tear into… there won’t be anything but shreds of him left to dissolve into the air.

“Alice.”

The call is soft and so far away and blows away the dust of an open path in her mind, a singing thread, that she had not forgotten but had long since made peace with its silence. It had been a shrine to something sacred, and she almost gasps out loud at its echo in her mind. She wants to call back, to holler down that open path, but she pauses, blood running down her face, as she listens.

The words are faint, but heartfelt and it hurts her own head to widen that path. It’s been a while and, unlike her others, she’s only ever opened one path to one soul. One person. She’s out of practice, and it’s like untrained muscles screaming at a sudden lurch into a run.

“Alice, I always hoped we’d cross paths again.”

The regret is heavy in his thoughts, and she presses closer, trying to see through his eyes. It’s blurry and white and green.

“I’m sorry.”

Oh, he tastes like forest and sunshine and leather on the back of her tongue, and she missed him. He was supposed to call for her decades ago.

But why now?

“You could have helped us. Hell, you probably could have saved us.”

That’s when he touches the ribbon in his pocket. Her ribbon, the one she left him with. A talisman, a physical anchor, a key that reinforces the path; she’s relieved he kept it. Oddly touched that he’s carrying it, but it makes everything easier for her. Clever boy; his hand on the ribbon is enough for her to grasp onto, to pull a fragment of herself into the scene in his mind.

“I wish you were here.”

The scene sharpens as if she is standing there in the snow, barefoot, facing…

Facing down the thrice-cursed Volturi and their entire court.

What has happened?

Aro’s smile is wide and that of a crocodile about to close its maw around the thing it wants the most. And that thing includes Jasper.

The entire city of Berlin shudders for a moment, something that will later be uneasily explained away as an earthquake, but is her rage that shakes the city at its core because she can reel it back inside of herself.

A shiver, not a storm.

Not yet, at least.

Aro, who has made himself untouchable over the centuries, and still manages to strike wildly at them, her and her kin. His blows rarely kill but they do cut and wound; her own scars are still fresh enough in her mind. One of the downsides of being outside of time; the memories never age right.

The Old Ones have warned them all not to go after Aro; they are allowed only defence, never offence. They say that creatures like the Volturi, full of avarice and wrath, will pave their own downfall. They have seen it so many times before; Aro and his kin will burn themselves out, and another will take their place.

The Old Ones and the Eternal Sleeping will not rise for anything short of war, and it will not be a war of their own making. That is the first law, and one she has obeyed.

But this… Jasper is hers. Marked and strung together, crudely but holding fast. He is hers to defend above all else, and no one can do anything about that. She just wants to know why Aro has come after Jasper and the Cullens. What she knows about the Cullens is vague; mostly gleaned from other fragments of herself, other lives they lived. They are peaceful people with too much money and little concern for those outside themselves, no matter what they tell themselves. They are human, it is their nature. But she is certain that they are not a danger. Not to Aro, not to the human population, not to anyone. What flimsy excuse is Aro using now? A desire for more gifted bodyguards? More power and land and wealth?

Whatever he wants, it’s nothing good.

The words are muffled, and she takes a moment to look over at Jasper. He’s standing there beside her, stoic and staring, not flinching. The anger streaming off him is palpable and she wishes she’d seen him before now.

You could have called me at any time, Jasper. Just to talk, just to see how I am. I would have come in a second. I wondered if you’d forgot about me, truly. I supposed I am flattered by the fact I am your last regret, your longing thought, though.

She shudders and looks around, her senses stretching. He’s right where he’s supposed to be, and that’s a long, long way from Berlin. It’s been a long time since she had to take herself apart this way, and there’s a risk. A price that has to be paid, and she’s not unwilling to pay it, if he’s amendable.

“Jasper?”

Of all the ways that Jasper thought he would die, this is not it. Not standing shoulder-to-shoulder with his closest people, staring down the army - there is no other word for what Aro has brought, larger than the biggest Southern army Jasper both faced and wielded - of Volterra, trying to defend the life of a half-breed child with ribbons in her hair and pompoms on her coat.

This is not a trial. This is an execution, a public one as a reminder that they were here by the grace of Aro’s will and that no one is safe if the King of Volterra is displeased.

He’s sorry he brought Peter and Charlotte into this mess. He should have known better than to trust that the Volturi would play by the rules, especially when the Volturi wrote the rulebook.

No, this is not how he thought his death would go.

But to be fair, he thought that once back in Texas when he was faced with three red-eyed women with smiles full of promises. So perhaps he should be more surprised that he didn’t see this coming.

Edward gives him a pinched smile that is more of a grimace. Aro is still talking, still taking this opportunity to remind everyone who he is, that he should be considered a wise and compassionate leader.

He wonders if Marcus considers him that; the man looks like a shadow, like the death of all things. Jasper has heard rumours about Didyme’s demise; some of them are farfetched, ridiculous even. But others… the way Aro smiles at the Cullens and their friends, Jasper cannot doubt that he is capable of terrible things.

“Of course, there is the hidden crime, one that I’m not even certain that you yourself are aware of, dear Carlisle,” Aro smiles benevolently, but there is no kindness in his emotions. He’s angry and jealous and greedy; his gaze is flickering over all that have gathered here, for the Cullens, as if

“You have seen my thoughts, you know of all our doings,” Carlisle intoned stoically.

“Of course, my friend! And I am delighted to discover the joy and miracle that is young Renesmee,” Aro beamed at the child, clutching tightly to Bella. “I trust that you have no comprehension about what is going on, and that loyalty to our long friendship is cherished, Carlisle.

“However, the crimes that are occurring under your nose are ones that risk not only our world, but the human one also - they are toying with things that should never be disturbed. It is an act of violence, of terrorism, unspeakable evil…

“The oldest creatures that roamed this earth, they were dangerous. Monstrous in a way that we cannot comprehend. Ungovernable. Very, very powerful in ways that have been lost to us before the first vampire walked the earth,” Aro spread his arms out, as if he is performing for a crowd. And perhaps he is. “Many of those creatures are long gone, but there are a small few that still exist amongst us. We have tried to protect our kind from them, to exterminate them to protect our secret and to protect our kind from them. They cannot be reasoned with. They are dangerous to everything we hold dear.”

Aro has everyone’s attention with that little speak, but all he can think of is a kiss that stole his mind and his will. Of limbs snapping and cracking around too-many joints, and those big eyes, with that knowing smirk. Of blood that was too hot, and the puff of a heartbeat in the back of his mind.

Of something that lasted a night, however warped and strange it turned out, that marked his memories indelibly.

The ribbons twists through his fingers.

“…And yet, as I stand here, one of your friends, Carlisle, has summoned one, called one here. Is that not an act of war in itself, dear Carlisle?”

Carlisle splutters, the denial genuine and frustrated. “Aro, you’re being ridiculous!”

“I’ve been tracking this particular one for many years. She possesses a skillset that is very… dangerous if left unmonitored. Her anchor lies here, we’ve traced it. And, dear Carlisle, I believe you when you say you are ignorant of all of this. But someone here has betrayed you, and they alone should pay the price."

Aro stares at them, all good humour gone, and not a single one of them understands what he asks. Except him.

He knows exactly what - exactly who - Aro is searching for.

Alice.

It’s been a long time. Since he saw her. Not since he thought of her - she is one of those people who lingers in the memory; it seems impossible that it was just one night, all those years ago. Her presence always lingered; like she fundamentally changed him, changed everything, the second she hitched a ride in that truck.

“I was… in hiding. Then I was exposed. Then I made a choice.”

“There are so many names for us, Jasper. I’d prefer if you just used mine.”

And he doesn’t understand this at all. That Aro has dragged the entire court here, across the fucking world, under the guise of a trial because of Renesmee’s existence and now, suddenly, Renesmee doesn’t matter.

It was no secret that Aro was looking for an excuse. Of course she doesn’t matter. He knows that there are much more terrible, unseen things out there than a little half-breed girl.

(He had been prepared for that, had waited curiously to see if Renesmee came out a monstrosity, an abomination that had too long limbs and a void where her eyes should be. He had been oddly disappointed how utterly mundane she was, as if she was the key to something, to better understanding of things that were probably best left alone. Edward have been confused but annoyed at his reaction and Jasper hadn’t bothered to explain.)

Aro knows as well as Jasper himself that Carlisle would never allow Renesmee to become something dangerous. He would sooner build her a gilded cage somewhere far away than allow Renesmee to do harm to human beings.

Carlisle knows it as well as Jasper; that it wouldn’t be Jasper’s hands left to break Renesmee if she’s too strong, too dangerous, too unreasonable. It will be Carlisle’s, with a tender kiss and a prayer for her redemption. Aro sees Carlisle as weak and easily manipulated, and the rest of the family sees Carlisle as a pacifist, as a champion of life beyond all else.

And Jasper sees him as a father who will protect his family from anything, even their own poor choices. As a doctor who recognises that to save a life, sometimes you must amputate, and Jasper is surprised no one else sees that in him. That they call him ‘doctor’, but they only see the man of faith.

But he digresses. Aro has come here and it is not solely for Bella or Edward or Renesmee. It is for Alice, and she isn’t here. The Cullens have never met her, and he’s never told them about her. What would he say - “I met a demon-god-monster on a highway, and she was beautiful? We talked and argued and fucked, and then we parted ways. And I’ve never forgotten her”? They’d think he was crazier than ever.

He’s always tasted arsenic on everything, since that terrible kiss. Always heard that faint heartbeat in his mind. Kept a ragged ribbon to worry at, looped around his keys, in his pocket for fifty something years.

Alice…

They are going to fight and they are going to die because no one else here has the answers Aro wants, and Jasper is never going to breathe a word. The Volturi numbers into the forties, with the entire court and their witnesses. There just aren’t enough of them to win this.

He should have fetched Maria, should have rounded up every stray, every nomad, every disenfranchised asshole this side of Monterrey for this debacle.

Alice, I always hoped we’d cross paths again. I’m sorry.

“...Jasper?”

“Alice…”

The heartbeat in his head is beating louder, and the taste of her venom is strong on the back of his tongue.

Alice.

—

If only a reunion could have been one of a time-stopping kiss, of being able to look the other in the eyes and say, “I’m so glad you’re safe, that you’re well. I missed you.”

Instead, it is this.

#alice cullen #jasper hale #jalice #alice/jasper #twilight fic #ficmas23 #ficmas #my fic: in the dark of the night #cryptid alice #jasper will absolutely simp for alice as long as it doesn't involve mind-control #i have so many notes on this world and how alice works #wips #someone buy aro a puppy so he stops collecting people #and i use 'people' in the loosest possible way considering alice is most definitely not considered 'people' in this fic #alice is going to look at ness and go “oh a dhampir. they've mostly died out but you can use an ordinary bug spray to get rid of it.”

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tomorrowillbeyou · 4 months

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bitches love your moustache

BITCHES LOVE MY MOUSTACHE

#i say this to myself in the mirror <- guy who has somethjng that fits the loosest possible definition of a moustache

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jackgoodfellow · 2 years

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Fun fact: when you reach a 1,000-day streak on Duolingo, the Duolingo owl shows up and smokes a joint with you

[ID in alt]

#Duo the owl #Duolingo #learning a language #smoking a joint #about me #my art #i made this like a year ago cause i am somewhere in the 1300s range now #Spanish. attempting to learn Spanish. as i have been attempting to do. SINCE LITERALLY KINDERGARTEN #just. 23 years since then and not a TON of progress #but i can hold a conversation if the other person is verrry patient #and i can read most spanish sentences #but my auditory processing for english is like... still missing 10% of what it takes in so like #spanish or any language i didn't learn as a toddler presents a problem for me #alt-text #this is true it happened to me I smoke a joint with this owl #I assume that if I hit 2000 days he shows up again and we do MDMA together #it's healthy to have things to look forward to in your life #shitposting #I am bilingual if we are using the loosest possible definition of bilingual #but I will keep trying to learn this fucking language until i god damn die if I have to #half the folks in america speak it i wanna freaking speak it #i used to think i could learn at least 6 languages before i die. i now know that no that is never gonna happen. but maybe spanish and asl

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dawnleaf37 · 1 year

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dont look at me im about to be cringe

auuuu favremysabre steve saga

#I ahvent been following what this guys been doing for like years now but I remember . steve saga. rainbow steve . I know him. I know him #re: I haven’t been following him idk if hes like done bad thing at all dont get mad at me if he has but #no one could possibly understand #god. steve saga definitely in the absolute loosest sense ever contributed to my lore #in the sense that there were two main characters called time steve and galaxy steve and there was a fucked up rock that immobilized people #now #i wouldn’t say nightmare stone/shadow stone whatever was the DIRECT inspiration for the item #but when I was making item I had one singular thought about it so like maybe a little. idek if the videos are still up of steve saga let+#+me check

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bookerdwitt · 2 years

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Notes app poetry

#poetry by the loosest possible definition of what a poem is or can be #mind you #idk.#ok to reblog btw #I’m on a call with my girlfriend right now and he’s asleep #and I love him more than anything #and I never want to self destruct again #because that risks hurting him

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funky-dealer · 3 months

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is dungeon meshi about guys eating shit

#'shit' in its loosest and most broad possible definition i mean

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teaboot · 11 months

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Once in a blue moon or so a man friend comes to me for advice about a woman and I have to gently explain that I am only "also woman" by the loosest possible definition, and then I try to help anyways. And it's honest work

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blakeblueboi · 2 months

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Happy (Late) Valentine's Day!!!

Draco: Potter, we agreed no gifts- Harry: I know! I know, I just- Harry: I know we said no gifts, Draco- but I was thinking about this past year and- and well, I never thought that we'd be well- we'd be- Harry: Us- you know? I know we just started seeing eachother and it's new, like you said, but isn't that reason enough? Harry: Reason enough to celebrate that it is so new? Harry: Before this year I thought that wasn't remotely a chance for us- I see now that I was wrong Harry: I was so wrong about so many things- and I hope that can at least- Harry: Make yo for that- even if it as last week that you even let me start using your first name and - -Inaudiable Harry- esque rambling- Draco: Do you ever shut up? Harry: Wha- mmph!!

The corridor rang with newfound silence as Potter's voice was abruptly swallowed in the matter of a second. Draco's ears were so unused to the lack of incessant rambling that they became muffled in shock.

The kiss, in the loosest sense of the definition, only lasted a few moments before Draco leaned back away from Potter's slightly parted ones he had seized midsentence. His grip on his tie only tightened however as Draco fixed the gaping Gryffindor with a hard glare.

Or at least he tried to. The look in Potter's eyes stole away any sort of insult or rebuttal from Draco's throat.

Stormy grey met electric green and in an instant Draco realized his mistake.

That had been their first kiss.

Their first kiss.

Draco had only wanted to shut the blubbering git and not only had he kissed Potter for the first time-- on Valentine's day no doubt-- but in the middle of the 7th floor corridor. Potter had dragged him up there without explanation, now obviously for gift giving but it was no less a public space.

Draco could feel eyes on him at all sides, from all directions even if he couldn't see or discern who exactly was there watching them.

Heat crawled up Draco's face like a creeping Acromanchula complete with pinprick of little fangs over his cheeks and down his neck. He was no better than a beet red third year as he stood there under with still silently shocked Potter's everlasting gaze. A gaze that under normal circumstances he would have preened under.

Draco's body acted on its own. With a flourish of quick and familiar magic his body bent and shifted until his pink paws plopped onto the cold cobblestone floor. With a scramble Draco bolted from the hallway, luckily with the pretty red ribbon that was wrapped around the box secured in his teeth.

The sound of Potter's voice calling after him fell on deaf ears as Draco's let his swift feline body carry him as far away as possible. As quickly as possible.

"Do you think he'll wear it?"

Harry had been a mess. So much so that he would rather take a hundred Bat Boogy hexes from Ginny back in fifth year than be in the predicament he was in at the moment.

"Harry, mate, you're starting to sound like a second year--" Ron told him indignantly from beside him with a clean chicken leg in his fist.

"Ron, I don't think you're helping--" Hermione scolded him from her spot across from them over her N.E.W.T.S level charms textbook and a half eaten dollop of strawberry pudding.

"No offense, but we are talking about Malfoy- the git is probably trying to decide which bedazzled silver trash can he's going to chunk it in- OW!!" Hermione swatted Ron over the head with her new closed charms textbook.

"Ronald, honestly you could at least try to be a little supportive for your best friend! You're making it worse!!" She hissed with a hard glare across the table at her boyfriend.

It was, indeed, making Harry's mood that much worse. He hadn't seen Draco all day since he gave him his Valentine's gift and he was starting to really believe he had botched their entire relationship. It wasn't enough that he had gotten Draco a gift when Draco had specifically told him that they were absolutely not getting each other gifts on what he described as a pathetic excuse for a holiday, but he'd gotten him something that was most definitely going to make it that much worse.

A glance over at the Slytherin table only threw his mood into the gutter when he saw Draco's usual spot empty. It wasn't like he couldn't have run after him that morning. He definitely could have. Especially in his larger, nimbler animgus form. But the thought only dug up memories of sixth year and a certain third floor bathroom. Even if the confrontation wouldn't have gone exactly like that now of course, it still kept Harry rooted to the cobblestones as he watched the white cat sprint away.

The loud swing of the Great Hall's massive doors didn't even rouse Harry to look up. He'd fallen for that trick too many times this evening to know that he wouldn't see a shock of white-blonde hair and pretty stormy grey eyes enter through it.

"Harry--" Hermione's voice whispered to him from across the table.

Harry hardly heard her over the uproar from the Slytherin table. Namely around a certain now occupied spot behind him.

"Bloody hell, Harry- did you really get that slimy git that? That must have cost a fortune!"

Ron'd words were drowned out by the sight of Draco Malfoy proudly, practically glowing with a self-satisfied smile on his beautiful face. His eyes twinkled with the light of the ever-burning candles above them and the pink glitter below that decorated every house table. His cheeks were a soft pink as Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini, and Theodore Nott all gawked at him.

Or namely at what was clasped around his neck.

A silver necklace was visible above his tie and glittered in the light. It was made up of dazzling white and clear gemstones that shone various colors depending on the wearer's mood and the light around them like a prism. It was absolutely stunning, especially with the pink and rose red they were emitting onto Draco's perfectly pale skin. Harry had enlisted Hermione's help with making sure that the necklace would expand and shrink whenever Draco was in either of his forms.

Aside from what it was made out of-- it was truly a necklace but the length of it could have made it something else entirely.

That something else being a collar.

Stormy grey finally met Harry's green across the table and Draco's cheeks flamed with an instant and uncontrollable blush. A small smile was exchanged between them and words that went unsaid passed through their gazes.

Harry turned and that smile grew into a big grin despite a groan from Ron and another swat of her book on his head from Hermione.

Maybe Harry hadn't mucked things up that badly that Valentine's Day.

Fin.

WOw this took way longer than I thought it would lol

#drarry #draco x harry #harry x draco #Harry potter #harry potter fanart #cat animagus harry #cat animagus draco #animagus #animagi #valentines day #draco malfoy #fancomic #microfic #my art #my writing

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joaniam · 1 day

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The episode where Chilchuck is lecturing Senshi about traps is SO INTERESTING.

Because Chilchuck IS right- he's the one doing his job to keep everyone safe, AND he probably has to be kind of an asshole to new people he's working with to make sure they Will Respect Him.

Which... Senshi... Kind of... doesn't. He views Chilchuck as an Actual Kid for a good portion of the series! Even when Chilchuck tells the party his actual age, that doesn't do much for Senshi, who has just the LOOSEST grip on how other races age.

And considering when we see Namari, a dwarf who has spent at least the last few years of her life working in a party with humans in it guess Fallin's age as "possibly 40" it's kind of hard to blame a guy who was raised by dwarfs and then spent pretty much the rest of his life as a dungeon hermit, and definitely spent the last 10 years as such.

So Senshi is very much set up to Not Get Chilchuck, to underestimate him.

But Chilchuck also very much underestimates Senshi, who has spent YEARS hanging out in dungeons, doin' dungeon stuff, in a dungeon full of traps and monsters, with NO help, NO backup, and NO picklock. You don't spend over a decade in a dungeon without some kind of canny.

#dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi meta #rambles #kabru and laios as narrative foils yes but what about chilchuck and senshi

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omegaverse-anthropologist · 4 months

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pack

i love packs. packs are so important to my omegaverse. they’re communities, they’re friends, they’re families. fuck the nuclear family; in this omegaverse we are pack-centric

general

in an ideal situation, most people would be born into a pack. this would be the pup’s community of care. the loosest definition might be “a group of adults connected by pack bonds who engage in care for each other, and any children being raised by that group.” example pack makeups include, but are not limited to, the following:

1. A group of high school friends: Two A/O pairs, a B/O pair, a single B, and their pups.

2. A group of people who were packmates as pups, along with their mates: A/B/O triad, a single O, and a B/O pair and all of their pups.

3. A polycule of As, Bs, and Os and their pups.

4. A number of single As, Bs, and Os who have chosen to be each other’s cycle partners, and their pups.

packs tend to be made of groups of non-related adults, though in some cases (e.g. small or aging towns, instances of abuse, etc) groups of siblings or cousins may form a pack and simply avoid one another during reproductive cycles.

cycling

packmates are not obligated or expected to assist sexually during reproductive cycles, though many packmates will offer the cycling individual scented clothes or comfort items, food, or non-sexual comfort, especially in situations where the cycling individual’s mate may be absent.

when a cycling individual is unmated, their mate is absent, or they are unprepared, the pack is expected to provide non-sexual care (e.g. cooking/cleaning for them, offering nest companionship or cuddles when requested). it is perfectly acceptable for the pack to provide this care even when the mate is present. alleviating the burden on a cycling individual and their chosen partner is an act of pack care.

pups

packmates raise pups together. often, pups will refer to their non-parent adult packmates as ‘auntie,’ ‘uncle,’ or other similar terms. ideally, if packs do not share a home, they live near enough to one another that pups can safely travel between pack homes. when this is not possible, packmates escort pups to and from pack houses. packmates are listed on school documentation so that pups’ trusted adults can pick them up from school or make decisions on their parents’ behalf in case of emergency.

pups may refer to other pups in the pack as pack-siblings, cousins, or packmates. older pups tend to gravitate toward calling the other pups packmates, as it sounds more mature.

forming packs

after an individual has experienced their first full cycle, they may feel an increased drive to establish their own pack apart from their pack of origin. they may spend more time at friends’ homes and establish scent bonds with close friends. this can be a difficult transition for all parties involved. parents and packmates want to keep their pup close or may become despondent at ‘losing’ their pups, while young adults may feel stifled by overbearing or possessive packs of origin.

it’s common to see scent-bonded teenage packs spending time together in public. they aren’t afforded the same legal rights as adult packs, but in cases where emergencies occur (e.g. an accident or injury involving one scent-bonded packmate), leeway may be granted for access to things like hospital visits or school absences.

adult packs are created through the exchange of pack bites, generally a bite to the wrist from another pack member. historically, they were given by a pack’s dominant alpha, but this was a ceremonial restriction only. packs may be legally recognized with a document called a roster, which serves as a record of pack membership.

legal

adult packs have legal rights—the pack roster may be registered for ease of:

childcare (e.g., signing pups out of school early, accompanying them to medical appointments in a parent’s stead)

property ownership (e.g., a pack purchasing land or a house)

medical care (e.g., access to a hospitalized packmate’s room outside of visiting hours)

not all packs choose to formalize their membership, just as not all couples choose to become legally married. packs who do not hold a roster are still packs, and they provide all the social and emotional benefits of a pack but do not have a rostered pack’s legal privileges.

#omegaverse #omegaverse headcanons #omegaverse packs #a/b/o packs #pack headcanons #alpha beta omega #a/b/o verse #a/b/o au #a/b/o headcanon #a/b/o dynamics #omegaverse dynamics #jpost #omegaverse anthropology

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contrastparadoxx · 3 months

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Divine Intervention

Antare belongs to @sunnetrolls, Parome belongs to @asks-n-trolls , All other characters belong to me HUGE shout out to @sasster for all of the help writing this i would not have finished without you

Despite Contra’s liberation from beneath the thumb of her ancestor, to the loosest definition possible anyway, there always had to be some reason or event orchestrated to bring her back under his influence. Maybe to remind her of her place, maybe to make him feel better about the embarrassment that surrounded her being allowed to live planetside in the first place. If she thought about it for long enough, the why doesn’t really matter, it’s just that it is something that is.

This evening’s event was no different, but it was supposed to be. Contra’d orchestrated the whole thing herself — A small party on a ship with the premier of her newest movie set to play when it docked at a private island. She’d rub elbows with other industry giants, entertain them, and possibly secure another handful of roles from this very event. She had it all figured out on her own, too, from catering to drink service.

She’d even been able to pull some strings to have Antare among the service providers. It was not ideal, especially considering who bankrolled the event and as such decided that his attendance and the attendance of actors and producersI from more distinguished- read: empire propaganda films- were of the utmost importance.

At least she had the solace of her moirail being nearby, should she need to decompress after her interactions with the overbearing benefactor.

The Cleanser, Archen Aurela, her father.

Try as she did to forget that fact, the man loomed over the crowd all evening, easily the tallest of all of her guests, micro expressions that only she could detect displaying his disapproval for some of the crowd.

It became clear what he was scouring the crowd for when his eyes fell on hers, she felt like a deer in headlights. He did not need to make a large motion for her to get the picture that he wanted to meet her on the outside portion of the ship, now. It seemed Antare had noticed as well, or at least her reaction to such, because as she started to make her way towards the door outside, he stepped out from behind his little counter.

She did not notice.

Once outside the hostess politely asked the singular, incredibly handsy, pair out there to please head inside, just for now, if that’s alright. No, she is not just being a prude she just needs the space for a moment that’s all! In her attempt to talk sense into the duo, the sound of disturbance behind her was ignored, though when they both froze before scurrying off with an apology at the same time she felt a shadow fall over her, she knew her father had arrived outside.

Neither person in this particular argument was particularly prone to raising their voices. It made the gradually increasing volume all the more intense.

“Why can’t you just let me live my life how I want to!”

“Because you make mistakes. Over, and over, and over again you’ve proven this. That mutant fire hazard, that pastel bitch, that teal” she flinched with each individual mentioned, fins flat with a mixture of anger and… fear? Frustration? Something else entirely? It did not matter, if he even noticed he paid them no heed and continued on. Just as she had been conditioned to expect. “That rust should learn his place, I suppose the Jade is. Fine.” He laughed, a single cruel bark “you know I only let you date that little gold because it will make when you crush him all the better. Finally prove once and for all who is superior”

“You leave your stupid grudge out of my relationship with Parome! And Antare too, for that matter, my quadrants have no bearing on this conversation!”

The look the fleet general gave his descendant was one of both annoyance, and pity. “You exist to serve me, and further than that, to serve the fleet. And it’s about time you stopped fighting that. Those quadrants of yours only get in the way.” He reached towards her, his size alone making an imposing figure.

She jerked away, attempting to avoid his grip, but in so doing she noticed some uncharacteristic splattering soiling his jacket. When did the Cleanser ever let himself present as anything other than what his title implied?

And why were the stains red?

Realization hit her like a truck, making her stomach drop into her toes.

Antare.

“What did you do” she whispered. His gaze followed hers, but he did not answer immediately.

And then he smiled, an expression that was the opposite of comforting, and ice flooded her veins.

“I did mention that rust needed to learn his place, and you certaintly were not going to do anything about it, so I took the task upon myself” his contempt was palpable, as he nodded slightly in a mockery of graciousness. “You’re welcome.”

Contra didn’t care, couldn’t care, his words just noise in her ears as she turned to go check on her moirail. What had she gotten him into? She was snapped out of her head by a growl.

“You do NOT walk away from me, child” the strength with which he grabbed her arm would certainly leave bruises, and her shoulder would certainly feel sore the next day as he yanked. Contra whirled, a rage so rarely seen painted clearly there. Her fury had born a sneer so pointedly full of warning that for once it was clear she was, in fact, of his blood.

“Let. Me. Go. I have a moirail to attend to” she snarled in return, her anger barely contained and the rapidly dimming moonlight making her eyes almost glow.

Only she was there to witness this, he was sure of it as his eyes darted. The partygoers were all inside still, but still for once he was grateful for the disconnect between his fins and ears that made them unresponsive to most emotions. Quickly, however, he turned that brief moment of uncertainty into fury.

“I will not tolerate this insubordination, especially not over something so insignificant as a lowblood“ he hissed in return, neither willing to give way but one far more physically able to force it. Her nails dug into his hand, to no effect, as he began pulling her out further. “I’ve had more than enough of your play, it’s about time someone put you back where you belong. You’re an adult now, you’re going to spend some time back in your proper room while I prepare my ship, and then we are leaving.” It seemed like his mind was made up, and he’d come to the ingenious plan of heaving the two of them over the rails into the sea, likely counting on the cold water to quickly make Contra too languid to fight him.

What else could she do? The words of her mother began to spill from her lips, words she learned and heard before even hatching, nothing an Alternian would understand, and certainly the vile man that brought the frightful song out of her would be unaffected by it- the rune carved painfully deep into his chest would ensure his safety in that regard- but she could not help it. In the face of danger, she sang.

The clouds that started to form finished their work, dutifully blocking out the moons and the tides took a turn for the tumultuous. Ink black waves rolled against each other and smashed into any surface they could find, even the most expert of swimmers would find it difficult to navigate around their anger. Cleanser scowled at all of it, he briefly wondered where the storm came from, there was no forecast for it.

On the other hand, he considered the whole thing rather poetic. Even the weather knew to suit his whims, molding itself to fit his anger, why could this descendant of his not get the idea?

Disorientation blotted the Cleanser's mind when a particularly large wave came up and swept even him off of his intended course, tossing him carelessly into the depths. With that intrusion, he lost the grip of the wayward girl, muscles twitching with the memory of a tail no longer available to correct his positioning in the waves.

He didn't have the time to even begin to try and figure out where the swirl of waves sent her.

He didn’t need to worry, she wasn’t far away. The water swirled around her curiously, supporting her in ways the air simply never could. A deep chill already started seeping into her bones, quickly making it hard to keep struggling towards the surface, towards Antare. A dark shape, too vast for her to comprehend fully in that moment, filled her vision, then, and a voice filled her mind. A warmth blossomed and she found herself able to think far better than she could a moment before.

‘You called, child, and I answered.’

The mix of, well, everything left Contra still somewhat confused, so she could be forgiven for the confused “Mom?” That came out. Luckily the entiry seemed to have a sense of humor, for she chuckled, a comforting sound that made the whole world feel alright for a moment.

‘In a way, child, though not the one you’ve know up to now. Now, let’s talk a bit about why it is you summoned me.’

~~~

It took some time for him to find her again, and when he did he seized her by the arm. The magic that protected him from the girl's song sent alarm bells through him, and he knew immediately that something was different.

Something was wrong.

He hauled her out of the water like she weighed nothing at all, and the newly placid waves allowed him to do so with ease, and shoved her up onto dry ground again with force that sent her stumbling to find her footing.

“What did you do?” he demanded, yanking her effortlessly towards the line of rocks connecting the small sandbar they had landed on and proper land. She tugged back, and when he turned back to look at her, there was no hint of the fear and discomfort that would normally be default around him. No, this time she wore an expression that could only be described as smug. “What did you do‽”

With a hoarse voice, and still through that smug grin, the girl responded, "I traded it away. No more mindless trolls clinging to my every word, no more zombies hanging off of every note." She was triumphant, it radiated off of her, and though he could hardly hear her over the waves and the crowd of trolls clamoring to come rescue the pair, he could tell she fancied herself the winner. "I traded it all away, for a different sort of control."

There was something in her fathers eyes, a look that told her any troll that had the misfortune of interrupting him right now would meet an extremely violent end. She could never stand the way he treated other trolls when his anger got the best of him, so despite the pain it caused, she opened her mouth and, once again, she sang.

No longer would she stand idle while this man's anger controlled her world.

The song she sang, it was not a good song, not on any metric, but her newfound ability did exactly what the goddess promised it would do. Once again the clouds rushed in and the waves became angry, bubbling up to separate the father-daughter pair and their would-be rescuers.

And all at once the truth was all around him, in the form of the ocean coming to isolate him from the rest of the world. He looked at his daughter with what could only be silent fury, or maybe it was fear that coursed through him, and the words were slow to come.

He selected carefully, words designed to drive directly into her heart. It was the last bit of control he could have over the situation.

“Worthless. You’ve made yourself worthless to me, to the empire. A somewhat pretty face that hides the rot of gentleness.” He spat out like venom, disgust forcing his nose to crinkle up as he addressed her. “You know how I feel about rot. You are no descendant of mine. You are no Aurela.”

Only some of his words found their mark, striking with enough force to cause her to falter and he took that chance to knock her off the feet, an easy enough backhand that sent her tumbling down. Flecks of Violet landed to mix with the red.

“Useless vile creature.”

With that he took advantage of a small break between the waves to leap and disappear within them. He left her stunned, gone within seconds it felt, while she sat there and struggled to decipher if it was sea water or tears stinging her eyes.

#My Writing #Contra Aurela #The Cleanser

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spacemagicandlaserswords · 11 months

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The Clone Wars 2x13 ‘Voyage of Temptation’ Reaction

There was so much in that little “Very well.” from Obi-Wan

Anakin is on to you Obi-Wan and you are not helping yourself with all of those defensive and unsubtle reactions.

Why did that clone sound like an Aussie? G’day mate?

Lol of course there’s something in the crates

Satine is making an impassioned argument against war but it is rather undermined by her lying on a pile of plush cushions on top of a giant stepped throne that positions her above her subjects so she is literally looking down on them. The opulent setting, servant droids and champers being passed around doesn’t help either.

“I meant no disrespect.” said with all the underlying sass possible. That “Really” from Satine shows that she saw right through it.

“Senators, I presume you are acquainted with the collection of half-truths and hyperbole known as Obi-Wan Kenobi.” SCREECHING THE SAVAGERY

“Your highness is too kind.” The Sassery Continues!

I only noticed this while pausing but why the fuck does Orn Free Taa have two Twi’lek girls hanging off him?!

I love the framing here when Obi-Wan is addressing Satine. He’s almost at her eye level even though she’s on top of her throne pedestal. Visual metaphor for how similar they are yet how they are kept apart from eye other due to their duty to their beliefs? So close and yet so far.

Mum and Dad are fighting again.

“I think a multitude makes discord, not good counsel.” Satine absolutely shutting down Orn Free Taa. I love her. She takes absolutely no shit.

“There may be two sides to every dilemma but the Duchess only favours hers.” And you don’t only favour yours Obi-Wan? Side eyeing

Hello Mixer! Oh, they’ve named a clone, and we’re in a dark and spooky environment. He’s not going to last very long is he?

R2 you cheeky little shit

The clones definitely sound Australian. They’re supposed to be Kiwis, not Aussies. Very different accents. Humans are space australians though so maybe we can use that as the loosest of explanations?

“Droids” (derogatory). Is immediately stabbed to death by a droid.

The flirting continues! I mean fighting! The fighting continues. Yes, they’re definitely fighting. Totally not flirting at all.

“Even extremists can be reasoned with.” I love you Satine but I’m gonna have to disagree with you on that one.

“Ah, the sarcasm of a soldier.” “The delusion of a dreamer.” So that’s where this exchange comes from. That is some serious staring contest going on and neither is backing down.

“Fine.” ALL THE SASS

Oh rip Redeye, we didn’t even find out his name until after his gruesome death.

The jump from the clone getting stabbed to death by the droid to the opulent surrounds of the upper levels of the ship was jarring. Probably intentionally so.

“You and Satine have a history.” ya don’t say

CACKLING at Obi-Wan’s side eye at Anakin after he said Obi-Wan’s description of his year protecting Satine sounded romantic. Anakin did have a point though. Obi-Wan’s voice definitely sounded like he was reminiscing about old (romantic) times.

“That would’ve been problematic.” YA DON’T SAY

Anakin finding out his Master had a girlfriend?! Surprised pikachu face.

“A jedi must not form attachments” says the little shit with A WIFE

“But he usually leaves out the undercurrent of remorse.” Aw sadge

“Alright men, what’s the problem? I’m missing dinner.” Anakin back to being a shit again I see. Normal service has resumed.

Anakin did you just cut off Cody to talk to your droid?! How Dare.

Giant empty box in an obvious spot in the cargo bay. Yup, that looks pretty obviously out of place.

“That’s not good.” Do I have to say it again?

Anakin talking to R2 like he’s a dog. That is definitely Talking To My Dog Voice. WHOSEAGOODDROIDYESYOUARE

The droid walking out the dead body of Redeye is maximum levels of creepy

Is this a spider droid?

Oof lightsaber right through the droid eye

Oh of course there are babies. Of course it had creepy tiny baby assassin probe droids. More nightmare fuel.

It’s probably cruel but I did laugh at Orn Free Taa screaming and running away from the tiny assassin probe droids.

They’re fighting back to back and protecting each other! Aaaaaaaaaaaaah

“Do you always carry a deactivator?” Obi-Wan is so not impressed

“Just because I’m a pacifist doesn’t mean I won’t defend myself.” “Now you sound like a jedi.” Hmmmm he’s got a point there

I don’t think Rex got the braincell today

“I meant the scar I got after you fell and dropped me.” “Oh. Yes.” CACKLING AND SCREECHING

Satine completely stepping on Obi-Wan’s knight in shining armour moment there.

I think that quote about how people treat those below them rather than those equal to or above them is really relevant to Anakin here, who treated that droid like absolute shit.

A traitor?! The sinister plot thickens!

Dark!Obi-Wan decides to come out and play as he basically threatens the senators with an assassin droid.

Hello to senator Kin Robb

Called it. I thought there was something off about that dude when we met him in the last episode, though I thought he was a slimy advisor rather than a senator. Reminded me of Wormtongue from LotR

Obi-Wan did you just hit the assassin droid away from Satine with a frying pan?!

So Merrick has instantly transformed from smooth talking slimy advisor/senator to OTT scenery chewing villain

Lmao at Cody just randomly shooting into the air when the baby assassin droid leapt onto his bucket

Rex freaking out and smacking into the storage crates as he tries to keep the other baby assassin droid off his bucket

Anakin: Well, we found the little ones. What about the mother? Rex: Haven’t seen it Also Rex: *immediately gets body slammed by the mother assassin droid*

Rex when you see the mother assassin droid, don’t just point at it! Poor Rex, he definitely didn’t get the braincell for this mission

Rex just catching the assassin droids giant stabby legs and then kicking it off him like it’s nothing

Rex taking it up a notch and leaping on top of the assassin droid, pinning it under his boot and blasting all the tiny assassin droids to bits. Sir did you have to go So Hard?

I didn’t catch this until I replayed this little section over quite a few times but Anakin actually signals to Cody to stop firing at the mother assassin droid so that Anakin can fling his lightsaber at it and chop off some of its legs.

I also didn’t notice this little detail until after multiple replays but the mother assassin droid actually headbuts Rex straight in the bucket. Poor Rex, if he didn’t have the braincell today before that then he definitely doesn’t now.

Also the assassin droid sounds like it screams when Rex steps on it. He can step on me like that any time he likes

“This may not be the time to ask” YA THINK ANAKIN?!

Lol @ Obi-Wan’s defensive reaction. It definitely has a bearing on the situation at hand. Their reactions and expressions after are just as hilarious. Poor little Obi-Wan and his sad little face.

That is one weird looking ship

Well that’s one way of boarding a ship

“Anakin, she’s not my girlfriend!” CACKLING

Merrik has gone full villain stereotype

“Satine…” MYEMOTIONS.GIF

OMG THIS WHOLE LOVE CONFESSION SCENE

“I’ve loved you from the moment you came to my aid all those years ago.” SOBBING

Also, Merrik’s look of utter disgust in the background and the overly dramatic eyeroll is absolutely sending me

“Satine, this is hardly the time or place for…” DAMMIT MAN LISTEN TO HER

Satine: *puppy dog eyes* Obi-Wan: Alright

“Had you said the word, I would have left the Jedi order.” SHAKING AND CRYING

Merrik utterly ruining the moment there. Though the absolute over the top scenery chewing villainry that he’s channeling is still deeply amusing me.

Was that a tactical love confession from Satine? I’m not saying it wasn’t genuine or real, just that it seemed a both obvious and clever time to tell the love of your life that you’ve loved him ever since you met. We’ve already seen that Satine is exceptionally smart and shrewd and I wouldn’t put it past her.

“You have the romantic soul of a slug Merrik *stomps* and slugs are so often trod upon.” YASSSS GET HIS ASS SATINE

Merrik getting his villain monologue in. He has got them in a philosophical quandary though and he knows it. I am absolutely loving the over the top sarcastic overly dramatic villain mode. It’s like they’ve got every stereotypical villain trope and shoved it in him.

Merrik: “Who’ll strike first and brand themselves a cold-blooded killer?” Anakin: Me!

That was definitely a slowed down few notes of the Imperial March playing over the shot of Anakin popping up after stabbing Merrik through the chest with his lightsaber. It’s an interesting juxtaposition because Anakin pops up from the bottom of the screen with this little smile and looking almost sweet and wide-eyed. Yet the music is hinting at what we all know happens in the future. Another thing I didn’t notice until multiple replays of this little section is that the framing of Anakin here is also very dark. The entire background is black or dark grey. Plus his armour and jedi robes are black, very dark grey and red. How did anyone not see this coming? Or rather, they probably did and didn’t know how to handle it or realise it was past the point of no return until it was too late.

“Obi-Wan, I…” DAMMIT CODY. Why did you have to pick now to be your usual hyper competent Marshal Commander self? Talk about a cock block

“I must get back to the business of diplomacy.” Nooooooooo

“As you say Duchess, some other time.” SOBBING

That feels like Obi-Wan’s version of “As you wish.” from The Princess Bride.

That is a lot of fancy words and diplomacy and Great Negotiator-ing for ILOVEYOU

“I’m still not sure about the beard.” CACKLING

Obi-Wan’s little concerned and flustered reaction. My girlfriend doesn’t like my beard?!

“It hides too much of your handsome face.” Dayum gurl Satine with the smooth talking moves right there.

Anakin: A very remarkable woman. Obi-Wan: She is indeed. Anakin: Ya know, if you need any tips on how to keep a relationship a secret, I know a guy.

Also, that hand on the shoulder from Anakin spoke volumes

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