#don’t think I did howl justice

[nyrandrea]

You have very good writing and I think you really do comfort fics well! So I was wondering if you could write a fic with Astarion where the Tav he is trying to seduce has like major self esteem issues. Like they kind laugh at his attempts to compliment them. But at first it seems like a joke until he realizes that Tav isn't joking about it and he tries to help them see they are beautiful. (this is one of my fav prompts to give people ngl)

Thank you so much! This is a lovely prompt and I hope I did it some justice! :)

Word Count - 2k

Enjoy!

xxx

As the storm clouds gathered ominously on the horizon, you and your party found yourselves on a desolate, rain-soaked road in the middle of nowhere. The relentless downpour had turned the earth into a sea of mud, and the wind howled like a vengeful spirit. 

Your clothes were soaked through, and faces were etched with exhaustion and desperation. With each step, your boots sank into the muck, making the journey even more arduous. Thunder rumbled in the distance, a menacing reminder that you had to find shelter soon. 

“Ugh, there’s probably some saying about rainbows after the storm and whatnot,” Astarion said, holding a rucksack over his head in a failing attempt to save his hair. “But I’d much rather not be out in the middle of one.” 

“Ah, it’s not so bad, just think of it as a long overdue shower,” Gale said. “And the saying is ‘Don’t fear the storm, for the rainbow is never far behind!’” 

“Oh yes, that’s the one,” the vampire drawled.  “I’ll rest so much better now that you have enlightened me.” 

Amid the pelting rain, you spotted a faint glimmer of light in the distance. With newfound hope, you quickened your pace and beckoned the others to follow. As you trudged closer, the light revealed itself to be a cozy inn, nestled among ancient trees that shielded it from the worst of the storm. 

“Thank the Gods,” Karlach breathed. “If I got any more drenched, my engine would have snuffed out.” 

“Wouldn’t that solve your problem, then?” Lae’zel snidely chimed in, only to hiss when you elbowed her. 

The inn's windows emitted a warm, inviting glow, and the scent of wood smoke and hearty meals wafted through the air. Your tired body yearned for a meal and a warm bed, mindflayer tadpoles be damned. 

“Have we got enough gold to stay here? I mean, for everyone to have a room?” Shadowheart asked. 

“We should do,” you said, pulling out the team’s shared coin pouch. “I sold that egg we uh... found.” 

“You mean the one we stole after we killed its mother?” Wyll asked, clear disdain lacing his voice. 

“It’s not technically stealing if the target is dead,” Astarion cheerfully chimed in. “Besides, we rescued the other one, didn’t we? One good turn deserves another.” 

Wyll grimaced. “Your idea of virtue is a damn twisted one.” 

“Aw, you love me really,” the vampire teased back. 

“Here we are!” you announced as you reached the inn's doorstep, you were greeted by the innkeeper, whose eyes twinkled with the knowledge that you had nowhere else to go for the night. After taking payment, he ushers you inside, where a crackling fireplace cast a comforting light over the room, he takes your belongings up to your rooms with the help of Wyll and a begrudging Astarion. 

Finding a long wooden table in the corner of the room, the group sat together, their spirits lifted by the fact that they were safe from the fury of the storm outside, at least for one night. The innkeeper, his apron stained with years of hospitality, served you a hearty meal of roasted meats, fresh bread, and stew. 

You listened to the rain's rhythmic drumming on the inn's thatched roof, feeling a deep sense of gratitude for having found refuge in this little hidden haven. With a deep, contended sigh, you tucked into your meal, savouring every bite.

At least, you were trying to. 

“You better eat up,” Astarion teased, lacing his fingers together as he rested his chin upon them to watch you. “Because I plan on doing just that very soon.” 

“Crap,” you mumbled between mouthfuls. “Are you hungry? Why didn’t you say so?” 

“Oh, am I hungry,” he smirked. “Just not for blood.” 

You almost choked, but you masked it well with a nervous chuckle. He wasn’t... flirting with you, was he? You had always been bad at picking up signals, not that you received them often. 

‘Nah,’ you thought. He couldn’t be, not when there were so many other better-looking people, at this table alone, that he could choose from. 

“Well, I know you’re not craving my charming banter.” 

“Oh no, something far better.” 

Now you really were at a loss. 

“Do you... need to borrow my hair comb again?” 

“I mean sex, darling.” 

This time you couldn’t hide the choke, but you were more afraid of dying from embarrassment than anything else. 

“What?” 

The deafening silence that had befallen the table was broken by a low whistle from Karlach. 

“The direct approach, I can respect that, mate.” 

“Direct? I’ve been trying to drop hints for weeks now but perhaps a little more serenading is needed,” he looked you up and down with a knowing smile; he had hooked you, now it was time to reel you in. 

“Darling,” Astarion began softly, his voice a gentle caress, “when I look into your eyes, I see galaxies of beauty and depth that defy description. It’s as if the universe itself painted them with the colours of a thousand sunsets.” 

A faint blush tinged your cheeks as you lowered your eyes, unsure of where to look. Astarion reached out and gently lifted your chin, so your eyes met once more. 

“And your smile,” he continued, “it’s like a radiant sunbeam on even the cloudiest day. It has the power to brighten my world in an instant.” 

“Ooh, that’s a good one,” Karlach said, fanning herself. “You’re even making me blush!” 

“Careful, we wouldn’t want you burning any hotter now,” Gale smiled, though it was strained. He looked almost as uncomfortable as you felt. 

“Your kindness,” Astarion went on, “it knows no bounds. You have a heart that’s more expansive than the ocean, and it’s a privilege to be the one you’ve chosen to share it with.” 

“Bah!” Lae’zel practically spat. “These nonsensical attempts at beguiling are a waste of time, why waste your energy talking when you can claim and dominate each other instead?” 

You were hard-pressed to agree with Lae’zel on this one. Well, except maybe for that last part. 

“Alright, you can stop now,” you said. 

“Not until you’re convinced,” Astarion replied, a sly smirk forming on his lips. “How about this? You are a masterpiece in a world of art,” The vampire flamboyantly declared, his gaze unwavering. “Your uniqueness, your quirks, your imperfections – they all make you the incredible person I fell in love with. You’re not just enough; you’re more than I ever dreamed of.” 

You roll your eyes. “Gods, you know you don’t have to keep practising the fancy fake flattery on me, right? I know it’s all like a big joke to you but enough is enough, eh?” 

Astarion finally pulls back and frowns at you, not in that puppy-pout way when he didn’t get what he wanted, but in a way that he looked genuinely offended. 

“You think I’m joking?” 

“I... uh,” you stutter, suddenly flustered.  

“My compliments aren’t fake, darling. Decorative, perhaps, but you do know I mean every word, don’t you?” 

“Pfft,” you try to wave him off nonchalantly, but your quivering voice betrays you. “No, you don’t. It’s... it’s all just a bit of fun, r-right?” 

“Perhaps I should be a bit blunter then,” Astarion said, leaning forward ever so slightly, his expression serious and scarlet eyes piercing into you. “You’re... beautiful.” 

You swear you could feel something just break inside you in that moment.

A tentative smile, like a fragile flower pushing through the cracks of self-doubt, graced your lips, but it wilted in the harsh light of scrutiny. A tight knot formed within your throat as everyone stared at you in anticipation. What were you supposed to say? Thank you? That you were grateful for the shower of compliments from Astarion, this... gorgeous man, because you sure as hell didn’t deserve them? 

“I’m a little tired,” you suddenly say, your chair scraping the floor with a shrill screech as you quickly stand up. “Excuse me.” 

Leaving their concerned calls behind you, you made your way up the stairs of the tavern and into the hallway leading to the rooms. The innkeeper had allocated them, but he’d neglected to say which one was which, so you merely picked the first door you could get your hands on. 

It wasn’t until you slammed the door shut and leaned your back against it that you realised that you picked the wrong bloody one. 

The room was large and luxurious, the centrepiece was an ornate, four-poster bed adorned with rich, crimson drapes that seemed to dance with the flickering candlelight and crisp, white linens, neatly turned down. An old, familiar skull-faced tome laid face up, its amethyst eyes staring ominously at the ceiling. 

It seemed that someone got first dibs on the rooms, and it didn’t take a genius to work out who. 

‘Shit,’ you curse to yourself, scrambling for the doorknob. ‘Maybe I can get out before he-’ 

As soon as you open the door, Astarion is already right there, his hand raised into a fist. 

“Knock-knock?” he says, giving you a tentative smile. 

“S-sorry, must have gotten a little mixed-up.” 

“That’s quite alright, dear,” his tone is too soft for your liking, as if he feared offending you in any way. 

“Right, well,” you strain a smile and edge around him to get to the hallway. “Goodnight.” 

“Wait,” he catches you by the arm. “Come back in, won’t you?” 

You squint at him suspiciously. 

“To talk, darling. Nothing else, not if you don’t want to.” 

Gods know that you wanted to, you were just... surprised that he did. 

As you re-enter the room, you notice a small, antique writing desk nestled by a leaded glass window. A vase of freshly picked wildflowers graced the wooden surface, infusing the room with their sweet fragrance. 

Astarion caught your stare. “Ah, unfortunately I have run out of perfume to mask my er... musk. So, I had to improvise.” 

“It’s nice,” you remark, the tight knot in your throat making it hard to speak. 

“Well, I should hope so. They are your favourite after all, are they not?” 

A surge of guilt jabbed through your chest, you had occasionally stopped on the road to admire the flowers; their colours, their scent was intoxicating to you. Had he been observing you even back then? 

You didn’t know what to say, words were always tempered by hesitation, their resonance dulled by the fear of judgment. Each sentence was punctuated by apologies, as if you believed your very existence owed the world an explanation. Confidence always remained just beyond your reach, an oasis in the desert of your own mind. 

Astarion sat on the bed and patted the empty spot next to him; you silently took the invitation. 

“I would like to... apologise for earlier. Making you uncomfortable was never my intent, I...” he paused, his eyes flickering over you. “I just wasn’t sure how much clearer I could make it to you.” 

“That you... like me?” 

“Like you?” Astarion took your hands and squeezed them. “I adore you. Everything about you, all that you do is... nothing short of breathtaking.” 

Tears welled in your eyes and spilled over your cheeks like the gentlest rain, your trembling shoulders burdened by the weight of your emotions 

“I’m sorry if you don’t hear this enough but... I wish to change that. You really are, truly, beautiful.” 

The tears flowed freely then, your sobs echoing in the stillness of the night. Astarion gathered you in his arms, a silent pillar of support. His hand, cool and reassuring, gently cradled your trembling one, his thumb grazing back and forth over your knuckles. 

“It’s okay,” he whispered, his words a gentle caress. “Let it out, darling.” 

Astarion’s presence felt like a sanctuary, a safe haven in the storm of emotions. He didn’t offer empty platitudes or rushed advice. Instead, he listened, letting you pour your bottled emotions out, allowing it to find solace in his quiet understanding. 

With each tear that fell, Astarion’s touch remained steady, unwavering. 

As the night wore on, you found yourself nestled into his side as you lay together on top of the covers, your head tucked into his shoulder while he stared up at the ceiling. He turns his head briefly to kiss your forehead, and in that sacred space, amid the tears and whispered sorrows, you found solace, strength, and perhaps the willingness to accept that, in your own way, you are beautiful. 

xxx

Links to my other Astarion works

Everything's Fine

Restless

Request - Astarion kills everyone in his path to get to you

Request - Astarion tries to rescue you from kidnappers

#astarion x reader #bg3 astarion #astarion #astarion x tav #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #astarion ancunin #my writing #fanfiction #request

[tashacee]

It’s implied that Time and Aspect!Wild talked to each other about their moon related trauma, what was Time’s reaction to Wild describing the horrors of the blood moon? What was Wild’s reaction to Time talking about his adventure in Termina? How many of The Chain know about Termina?

I’m so curious and desperate to know how that conversation went. Could it maybe even be a short story please?

Look I know this is VERY overdue but i REALLY liked this idea and wanted to do it justice so

Aspects of the Moon

“So.” Time said, shuffling his feet. “The moon, huh?”

“Oh hell no, spooky-boy, you’re talking first, you were accusing me of being a moon-demon ten minutes ago. I deserve to know why.” Wild chuffed as he signed and flicked his tail to show that he wasn’t actually mad. But still. Sure, he’d spill his own moon trauma, but he absolutely deserved to hear Time’s first.

The old man sighed, raking a hand through his hair.

“Uh…” he said. “I… guess that’s fair.” he sighed and shook his head. “It… it’s really weird. You probably won’t believe me.”

“I came back from the dead. Multiple times.” Wild deadpanned.

Time chuckled. “I mean when you put it like that.” he laughed. “Fine. You win. So… when I was a kid. A real kid. Well. Sort of. I was ten, but it was after my first adventure, which took around two years all things considered, so I was also kind of twelve? But yeah, I was ten.”

“Time, what the fuck?” Wild held up his hands, blinking. “Were you ten or twelve, this isn’t that hard?”

Time snorted. “I’m the Hero of Time, Wild. It really is that hard. Now stop interrupting, this is my trauma I’m talking about here.”

Wild rolled his eyes jokingly, but waved for him to continue.

“Okay so. I fell into a tree and woke up in another world, called Termina. And everyone in Termina was freaking out ‘cause the moon was about to crash into the ground and kill them all. Actually that’s not true. A lot of them weren’t freaking out, they had other issues, which seemed a little short-sighted of them, but who am I to judge? Anyway, the moon kept getting closer - it had a face, by the way. The moon did. Big angry face. Very freaky -and after three days it crashed into the earth and killed everyone. So I rewound time to see if I could stop it. Um. It took a lot of times. Couple of years worth of three day cycles, but like, I kept resetting myself too so I was still ten. And then eventually I fought the moon and escaped. But yeah. That’s. That’s my issue with the moon.”

Wild stared at him.

“Time, what the fuck?”

“I did tell you the biggest thing I ever fought was the moon.”

“Yeah but I thought you were joking!”

“Clearly.”

“Fuck!”

“Yep.”

Wild nodded slowly, staring into the darkness of the woods around him. That was… wow. That was a lot. No wonder Time has issues. If even half of that was true - and Wild had no reason to doubt his brother’s word - then it was frankly astounding that he was functional at all.

“Okay. so.” Time leaned back against a tree. “What’s your story? Why do you hate the moon.”

Oh yeah. That had been the deal, hadn’t it. Time had told his sstory, so now Wild would tell his.

Ugh.

He shrugged.

“Not as dramatic as yours.” he admitted. “In my journeys - both of them, actually - every full moon rose red and Ganon’s power waxed in the air. His evil became visible rising from the ground and at the stroke of midnight, every monster that had been slain returned to life at once. You could hear them howl through the night all at once. It sucked serious ass.”

Time stared at him.

“All of the monsters?”

“Yep.”

“Even - even the big ones?”

“Sure did. Full moons… I don’t trust em.”

“No shit! No wonder you hate them!”

“Word.”

“Fuck.”

They sat in silence for a moment, both thinking about each others’ respective moon traumas. Then Wild pulled out his slate, flicked through a few sections, and pulled out his strongest bottle of whiskey, offering it to Time.

“Fuck the moon, amirite?”

Time grinned, accepting it. “Yeah. Fuck the moon!”

#it me #replies #hero’s aspect au #hero's aspect #my writing

[putting-it-into-parc]

jealousy, jealousy - chapter 3: the boys are back

f1 fanfic: lestappen (max x charles)

previous chapter | next chapter

summary: the twitch quartet decides to hit the games, for old time's sake. and charles finds out that there is a lot more to the guys than they let on...

chapter 3: the boys are back

“Oh my god,” Charles groaned as he ran over yet another virtual patch of dirt. “This is frustrating me so much.”

“If Alex didn’t have his problems in the straight—” Lando’s pixelated face complained from the corner of Charles’ monitor.

George snickered evilly as he clipped Alex’s rear right, even as his own lawnmower spun out.

“GEOOOOOOORGE!!! PLEASE!!! What the fuck, honestly, this guy—”

Charles navigated a turn to the left.

Then someone moaned, except the word moan did not do whatever that sound was justice. Mooed, maybe, like a fucking cow.

“What the—” he heard George say.

“WHAT WAS THAT???” Lando howled.

Charles couldn’t stop gasping. “DID YOU SHIT ON YOURSELF, ALEX?” he barely made out, before emitting an involuntary high-pitched shriek of laughter.

“Whaaaat?” Alex cried helplessly among the din.

“What was this NOISE, Alex?” Charles demanded. A tear snaked its way down each cheek. And then another. And then he realized he was crying, really crying, and he threw down his headset and ran to the bathroom.

“Alex,” Lando growled, “we lost Charles cause of you!"

Charles shuddered over the sink, splashed some water on his face, and ran back to his rig. “Sorry lads.”

“Whatever, Alex ruined any chance we had to keep playing,” Lando sneered. Alex rolled his eyes and flipped the lid off the top of a beer.

“Guys,” George said. “Not gonna lie, this has me kind of emo for the pandemic days.”

Charles felt a wave of relief wash over him. He wasn’t the only one who’d felt so…mushy. The crying might have been instigated by Alex being a complete degenerate, but he was suddenly overwhelmed by the realization that he and these three other guys, whose literal job it was to overtake each other on the track, had survived some of the worst days by just…existing together. Playing their games. Laughing when there wasn’t much else to laugh about.

“Aw, quit it George,” Lando said, “you’re gonna make Charles cry again.” George laughed amicably, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. And as the guys said their goodbyes and signed off, Charles’ DM lit up.

GR63 You okay? charlesleclerc haha yeah sry for game again GR63 Lmfao Alex is an idiot not your fault stay on call

“What’s up?” Charles asked, when he and George were alone on the Discord.

George raised an eyebrow. “Just seemed like you were going through it for a second there, that’s all,” he said, in his smooth George way.

Charles was taken aback. George, although arguably a notch above Lando and Alex on the emotional intelligence scale, never was all that close with Charles. He suddenly remembered George being interviewed for his first points in 2021, his normally photogenic face crumpling as he cried. Actually, who was he kidding, the bastard was beautiful even when he did cry. Some people were just immune to blotchy faces and snotty noses, and the Brit’s worst was everyone else’s most fabulous. But perhaps it was that memory that inspired Charles to say, probably against his better judgment, “Maybe I am.”

“What’s going on?”

“Hmm, well…I dunno, do you ever feel like you don’t know what the other guys on the grid think of you?”

George looked thoughtful. “Yeah, definitely I do.”

“Well? Doesn't that stress you out at all?”

“I mean, sure it does. I guess that’s why the whole communication, team bonding thing is important. I just try to be honest with Lewis, we’re obviously not always on the same page all the time, but I’ve never regretted just telling him what I think. Or just asking him what he honestly thinks about—”

Charles realized that George thought he was hinting at drama between him and Carlos. Or scared about the prospect of having Hamilton as his teammate next year. “Wait,” he said hastily. “Just so you know, things are chill with Carlos. In fact, they’ve been pretty great. I’m gonna be sad when he leaves. But I’m not worried about Lewis, either.”

“Oh,” George said, now looking confused. “Then what exactly are you talking about?”

Charles panicked. He couldn’t just tell George Russell, Max, yeah, that Max, has hated me since we were literally children, and for a long time I hated him too. Then we tried to not hate each other, but now we’ve had these just—weird, that’s really the only way to describe it, moments that I keep replaying in my head, and it’s just driving me insane at this point. It’s the rival thing, right? Please tell me I’m actually just obsessed with winning, not obsessed with—

“Earth to Charles,” George said pointedly.

Charles felt his ears go violently red. “Sorry,” he squeaked.

“Jesus,” George said, his face softening. “Are you sure it’s a grid problem, as opposed to, I don’t know, a girl problem?”

“Ah, yeah. I mean, no. I mean, yeah, it’s like a girl problem. But it’s really a grid problem.” What? Charles was pretty sure he wasn’t capable of forming complete sentences at this point.

George folded his hands and leaned back in his chair. “I’m going to ask you a very, very personal question, and you don’t need to answer it if you don’t want to.”

Charles stared at him blankly.

“Do you like guys?”

Charles burst out laughing. George looked annoyed.

“No! I mean, of course I do as mates, just, you know, not like that. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” George said, although his lips were tight at the corners. “Although I wouldn’t say that in front of Lando.”

Charles was dumbstruck. “Lando’s gay?”

“Bi. Didn’t you know? He had a thing for you at one point even. Max shut that shit down pretty quick though.”

Charles didn’t know what was more shocking, the revelation that Lando actually liked men, or that Max had, for some unknown reason, tried to prevent Lando from making a move on Charles. “Max?” he asked weakly.

“I mean, nothing against Lando,” George said. “He was convinced you weren’t straight. Max said a bunch of shit about how long he’s known you and that you were definitely not into guys. And then all the guys kind of realized at that point that you’d never really said anything one way or the other.”

He supposed this made sense. Sure, Charles had dated a few girls in the past, but before he became really famous, and none very seriously at all. And as for boys…never had he even considered the fact that he could be with one. But why was Max so convinced he was straight?

“Uh, hey, George,” Charles said. “Are you?”

George smirked cryptically. “I’m only going to say this because you seem to be going through a bit of a crisis, and I will personally put an end to your rear wing if this gets out, but I did kiss Alex once, a long time ago.”

Charles gaped.

“For absolutely no reason,” George continued. “We were alone at a party winding down, and he was giving me these eyes, and I suddenly felt like I…had to. Like if I didn’t, everything would just be wrong.”

“And how did that go?” Charles tried to keep his voice steady.

“I think it helped that we were a little drunk,” George chuckled. “We just carried on like it never happened for a while, then Alex got together with Lily. Actually, I talked to Lily and she told me that she knew about it. It was casual for him, I guess. All in good fun, just two stupid blokes. So then I knew I could joke about it with him.”

Charles relaxed. So George had just given it a go, and it was all fine. Probably a good experience, if anything, for them. Having a mate you could be that comfortable with…it must have been nice.

Then he thought of something.

“But it was casual for you too, yeah?”

George’s smile faded.

“I don’t know.”

notes: OKAY so i know i said there would not be more ~main~ content till next gp but i made the mistake of watching the twitch quartet stream which inspired this chapter HAHA i have fully given up on following the season and am now taking inspo from past gps

creative liberties were taken portraying the twitch quartet video and when it was made - irl, it was streamed 2020 during pandemic but obviously this takes place in the 2024 season ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

also....spicy spicy georgeeee ;) ngl, not sure if we're going to dig into george's emotional turmoil...i love him so much, i might just have to write him his own fanfic.

bonus george advice if you too happen to be going thru some shit <3

#f1 imagine #f1 #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 fluff #f1 fandom #f1blr #scuderia ferrari #lestappen #max verstappen #charles leclerc #george russell #lando norris #alex albon #red bull racing #red bull f1 #red bull formula 1 #twitch quartet #iracing #max x charles #charles and max #mvwc #mv1 #mv33 #cl16 #ferrari #oracle red bull racing #formula 1 #formula one

[strawurberries]

Blueberry 🫐 10 & 11 for Vash, please

Vash: "I'll do it. I'll do it. Just don't hurt them."

Authors note: One of my favorite things about Vash is that you can see the rage he has, the anger he harbors against the cruel and the evil, yet he chooses not to give into his murderous urges and pushes on---activly working towards his ideal of peace. He isn't a character who was born peaceful, he made himself that way. That's why I love him so much. And, for this, I tried to dig into that little bit. I hope it did him justice :)

Warnings: Mentions of violence, kidnapping, blood.

“What did you do with them. . . ?” he stared at the bloody hands of the man before him, small red droplets sliding off the scarred flesh—plop. . . plop. . . plop. . . the blood pool beneath the heels of the bounty hunters started to grow. The edges of the red stretched out, like a hand begging to be held, saved. As he watched the flow of the liquid, all he could think was that it better be someone else’s and not theirs. . . not his lover’s. 

A vague, soul-eating feeling started to gnaw at his belly and he knew then that his thoughts would not aid him, nor would it aid his lover, the blood, or the desperately cruel people before him. 

“What do you think?” the bounty-hunter, the leader of the small group, grinned. “They didn’t tell us where you were so, we jus’ had a little fun. Right boys?” The group giggled and howled, recounting the screams and taste of the blood. “Who would’a thought you’d come ‘ere all by yerself? Hmm? What a treat fer us!” He crossed his arms, his fingertips smearing blood across his bicep. 

“Where are they?” Vash gripped the cool metal of his gun—rage boils and pops, bursting out of the pot it was forced to live in, shoved in some dark corner of his mind where he, and no one else, could access such dirty emotions; a twitch of his finger sent him tumbling over his morals, ideals. Anger rose and fell like the chest of some great beast, slowly climbing the edge of his spine; come on, the fear whispered, let go, won’t you? It’ll be easier. He bit down on his lip, canine digging into the dusty flesh. To continue as he is, or to punish how he so dangerously wanted too.

“Come with us and you’ll meet ‘em. . . if they’re still alive,” he let out a barking laugh, “they were pretty tough!” He tilted his head, “nothin’ a good beating couldn’t fix though.”

Bubble, rise, POP. How long until the boiling point is reached?

The crowd laughed, 

POP, bubble, POP, POP. Water can only burn for so long until it leaves nothing but a steam filled memory. 

The bounty-hunter turned to a smaller boy next to him, “is that brat still breathin’?” The boy nodded and said he had given the hostage one last kick before he left, just to make sure they were still alive. “Well, guess yer lover is still kickin’. How sweet.”

POP. 

POP.

POP.

A decision must be made.

“I’ll do it,” he threw his gun down and raised his arms, “I’ll do it. I’ll go with you. Just don’t hurt them.” He couldn’t hold his malice back—the pain and anger in his eyes so fresh and bright that one might’ve thought his stare could kill. He clenched his hands into fists, arms slightly shaking as he stared at his gun on the ground. 

POP.

POP.

The sound of bubbles breaking reminds him of the sound of gunshots.

POP.

POP.

“Don’t hurt them,” he bit his lip, drawing a taste of delicious copper, “please.”

The leader stepped forward and kicked Vash’s gun away. “You have a deal, Mr. Vash the Stampede.”

The crowd hooted and hollered, dreaming of riches and fame, while one man dreamed of red geraniums and bullet wounds.

#Vash #vash x reader #vash x you #vash x y/n #vash the stampede x y/n #vash the stampede #trigun vash #trigun stampede #vash stampede #trigun #vash the stampede x reader #vash the stampede x you #trigun x you #trigun x reader #trigun x y/n #trigun fanfiction #trimax vash coded #100 follower special #Strawberry writes #I actually really love this one a lot #Thank you for requesting!!

[beautifulpersonpeach]

Suga has to be the best gatekept secret in BTS. He is so beautiful, cute, caring, charming, and funny!!! After months of questioning your taste ranking him second after Jimin in visuals when tkk is right there!, I'm sorry to say I was wrong. Yoongi is THE visual. I'm not going to the concerts but every photo I see on Twitter makes me wish I was going BPP. Does it sound like I'm getting wrecked? It's because I am. I relate to your other anon so bad haahaha. Before this tour, only Jimin and Jung Kook turned my head, but Suga now owns my soul. Is this how people become true OT7? Through BTS concerts?

*

Ask 2: Anyhow, did you notice how obsessed (maybe too heavy a word) Yoongi is with BS&T Jimin?? I just noticed after Suchwita. I think he really likes & remembers bst Jimin fondly & fervently. Please correct my delusion, if you think it's farfetched. (While reading your blogs and army detective twts, I'm realizing more and more how clueless and unobservant I am. I've given up being astute in noticing these matters and just gonna outsource these insightful findings to others. haha) +

But I think, Yoongi really LOVES bst Jimin. I mean who wouldn't?!? I just watched the MV & performances, and WOW JIMIN!!!! My words don't do bst jimin justice. That head tilt?! the fluttering of his eyelids?! his hand motion? his jaw line? the way he glides?! I see a ballroom behind him! GAH. the song is a BOP. I'm absolutely mesmerized, and let's be real, who can blame Yoongi for forgetting how to close his mouth in front of jimin! I want members reacting to mvs back!! T T

***

Hi Anon(s),

I started reading your asks giggling, by the time I got to the end I was full on howling lmaooo. Anon in ask 2, I too want the guys reacting to their MVs back, just cause we'll see them all going "Ahh, Jimin!"

Anon in ask 1, sigh, you have no idea what you’re in for with Yoongi.

Maybe all Yoongi biases are the same, because I truly feel like gatekeeping everything about him and I see that impulse in other Yoongi biases too. I’m very selfish with Yoongi.

You mentioned his visuals and him being caring etc, so let me try something here. It’s easy for me to talk about Jimin, but near impossible for me to talk about Yoongi, so I’m going to try talking about Yoongi through some of his actions with Jimin. And I’ll sprinkle in some okay pictures of him I don’t mind sharing, since you’ve acquired a taste for his visuals as well. :)

First, a preamble of his delectable visuals:

(ASDHJKJLSHKSADLK)

*

When people typically talk about Yoonmin, they stick to a rotation of Yoongi’s mouth hanging open watching Jimin, Jimin’s teasing of Yoongi, their bickering, etc. This is a jikook space so we hear all the time about how Jungkook looks out for Jimin, cares for him, encourages him and protects him. JK is introverted so when he becomes very assertive, usually on account of Jimin, it stands out. Yoongi too is introverted, but when he deals with Jimin he doesn't really break character, and so, oftentimes his quiet encouragement of Jimin, the significance of his actions, typically goes under the radar for a lot of people.

For example,

I'm not sure how many people realize how big a deal it was for Yoongi to recommend Jimin for A&R director when the boys were making BE. Jimin has said during that time, he felt lost - with their tour getting canceled, all their plans upended with no end in sight, the pandemic had taken away his core reason to live by his own admission i.e. performing for ARMYs. He was starting to drift and become unmoored (emotions we now see in Alone), and so Yoongi recognizing that, and recommending that Jimin take on the responsibility for determining the direction of their self-driven album, to get Jimin "closer to music again", is a small thing, but I see it as one of many ways Yoongi was pushing Jimin to better express and assert himself in that situation. Advice that Jimin finally took to heart during their Vegas concerts, when he began pursuing his solo music in force. The A&R role would’ve typically gone to RM since he drives most of their songwriting and oftentimes sets the tone of their music with BH, but Yoongi pushing for Jimin to be active, with Jimin eventually writing some songs for BE (though those were rejected), registered in my mind as yet another way Yoongi sees Jimin in ways many of the members don’t, and quietly advocates for him. Pushes him to go out of his comfort zone, because of how much he loves him. RM eventually took on a more active role during BE but Jimin being able to come on YouTube lives in Fall 2020 to talk about things he was doing for BE, those glimpses into him starting to find himself again, those details registered for me in ways I’m not sure I can properly express.

Yoongi sees Jimin, and loves him dearly. And it's mutual.

(I've never cared for animal prints but that leopard-print furry hat on Yoongi... he's a big cat)

*

Another moment I want to highlight is their 2016 Festa dinner. You know the one, where Taehyung talks about how Jimin grabs the spotlight/center. Yoongi was the first to come to Jimin's defense, saying how Jimin just naturally knows how to be a good performer, that a friend had told him that Jimin naturally knows how to act on stage to capture the audience. I'm not sure if it's obvious to many people, but that comment shifted the direction of the conversation, and soon other members were talking about how good and confident a performer Jimin is. J-hope would later say he's learned about performing by watching Jimin, and Jungkook would say this in later years too.

(… I have no words)

Yoongi saw Jimin's potential since way back in pre-debut, encouraging him and advocating for Jimin to be added to the final line-up in BTS, and has supported him in key periods of doubt since. Everyone saw how hard Jimin was working as one of the last trainees to join a nearly bankrupt agency with limited resources to train even just 7 people - I can't imagine the anxiety Jimin had to deal with but I imagine it was so much. And so when Jimin talks about that period and nearly always mentions how Yoongi supported him, I don't take it lightly.

(There's a reason Yoongi will always choose Jimin)

*

[Full disclosure here, but yoonmin's antics during the whole Shadow/Daechwita MVs shooting drives me to near madness. Because if you understand what Yoongi is, (which Jimin does btw), you'd see why this is borderline one of the most homoerotic unresolved cases we've ever had in Bangtan history.

If not for the fact that Jungkook exists, I'd be in a very different blog space right now honest to God. And I'll just leave it at that. ]

*

Whew! Okay, I need a break so enough about Yoonmin for now. I’ll try to focus more on Yoongi now.

Anon in ask 1, his pictures on Twitter is what’s fucking you up? Then welcome to my world lool. What got me initially though, was his music. Like, weeks later and I’m still struggling with myself not to loop D-DAY 40 hours a day 10 days a week. The fact he makes music like HUH?! while looking like this

(…and the fact this isn’t even in the top 30 hottest pictures I have of him. Just…)

I’ve written sonnets and poems about his voice and it still doesn’t feel enough to explain what it does to me.

(More Yoongi…)

(…just because…)

(…he’s that perfect.)

Good luck to you becoming a Yoongi bias because I have no idea how I’ve been surviving all these years. If we’re both still standing by the time this tour is over, please stop by my inbox again to tell me how you’re doing. I’d love to hear all about it. :)

#yoongi #min yoongi is a very serious problem for me #min yoongi #jimin #bts #park jimin #yoonmin #suga #agustd #agust d #bts suga

[yuusishi]

Hello! Could I request headcanons of Deuce, Jack and Leona with a super flexible s/o?

. . . JUST LIKE RUBBER!?

pairings : Deuce Spade , Jack Howl , Leona Kingscholar x gn!reader

genre : fluff

cws/tws : descriptions of limbs bending in unnatural ways (obligatory please do not try these at home), barely anything for Leona

a/n : I’m flexible myself but I’m not really sure if I did it justice LMAO, also sorry this is a bit low effort I couldn't think of much for this post 😭😭😭

Deuce Spade !!

The most panicked out of the three. Poor boy thought you broke your bones.

If you also do things like yoga and he sees you doing those intense positions, I think he’d have to try his hardest not to pass out.

“[NAME], ARE YOU OKAY!? ARE YOU INJURED!?” “No, I’m just doing some stretches, don’t worry”

After the initial shock, he’d think your flexibility is honestly really cool! You being able to do all kinds of poses with little to no struggle unlike people with regular flexibility levels.

He might even ask to help him out with stretching exercises to help relax his muscles, or to just destress in general.

I don’t think he won’t stop acting like he got jumpscared every time he sees you doing something unnatural with your body though, such as bending your arms so far behind you to the point anyone would think there’s an invisible device pulling them back.

I think hamstring stretches are the bane of Deuce’s existence when doing cooldown exercises, so during PE class if he sees you doing it with such ease, he’d be more motivated (and slightly competitive) to be able to do it himself.

I think he’d also ask if you did or used to do ballet since some of the poses he’s seen you do looked like things ballerinas he saw on Magicam did.

Out of all body parts, the part that makes him feel like fainting when you bend them weirdly are your fingers. Seeing them bent in ways they’re not supposed to makes his legs feel weak.

All in all, thinks you’re super cool for it but at the same time it terrifies him.

Jack Howl !!

I think he was just confused on what happened at first, but didn't really care much.

"[Name], did you just...wrap your leg around your waist...?" "Yeah, what about it?"

He's an NRC student, he's probably seen things much weirder than your limbs bending in ways they shouldn't.

But that didn't really stop him from having that thought in the back of his brain going 'are they hurt?", your arm isn't supposed to bend that way, are you alright?

Congrats, if you do yoga or any other exercises that require a lot of stretching, you got yourself a new person to do them with!

I also hc that Jack might have the slightest trouble with flexibility exercises, so he really appreciates you helping him out with it.

But sometimes when he sees you do something that your body should not be able to do, even if he remembers you're incredibly flexible, he just can't wrap his head around how that's even possible.

Although Jack doesn't show it much, he actually thinks your little ability is really cool, no matter if you got that flexible due to training or you were just born with it.

Leona Kingscholar !!

I think he'd be a little impressed by it actually, bordering between impressed and weirded out.

Especially if you didn't tell him that you could bend your body that much and he walked into you literally folded in half limbs all over the place but a completely neutral look on your face.

"Herbivore, what in the Great Seven are you doing" "Oh just stretching a bit, I just woke up"

"😬❓❓" would probably be his reaction to that.

After that he won't really care, occasionally he finds the ways you can bend and stretch your limbs a little funny.

Just please don't do anything weird when he's just woken up, sometimes he'd think there's a deformed demon at the foot of his bed but it's just you doing some strange stretches.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland fluff #twst fluff #deuce spade x reader #deuce x reader #jack howl x reader #jack x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #leona x reader

[wing-ed-thing]

Strong (Might Guy x Reader)

Synopsis: Blind or not, Maito Gai wasn’t about to treat you like you were fragile.

Word Count: 0.7k

Tags/Warnings: Blind!Reader, Earth-StyleUser!Reader, Gender Neutral Reader, Sparring, Canon-Typical Violence

Notes: I hope that you enjoy and that I did this archetype justice.

Maito Gai, to his credit, never treated you with fragility. 

You blocked a heavy kick to your right. The force against your forearms made you slide in the dirt, nearly sweeping you from where you stood planted. Soil fell on top of your feet, leaving a portrait of your struggle on the earth below. If anything, the immersion gave you an advantage.

“Jesus! Take it easy, Gai!” Ebisu shouted somewhere off to the side, waving his arms in panic at the edge of your sparring circle. You practically felt his presence as you fortified your ankles with your earth-style. “You need to be more careful!”

You scowled; Ebisu’s frantic vibrations through the earth were enough to throw you off as you were nailed square in the stomach. You grunted, stumbling back a short distance. Gai bounced on the balls of his feet in front of you, adjusting something on his gear as he waited for you to catch your breath. His movements made his position clear, almost as if Gai was refocusing your attention back on him.

“You got distracted!” he announced triumphantly. Ebisu protested in the background, growing louder. You let out another disgruntled moan, plucking a kunai from the pack on your hip. You lunged towards Gai, not stopping your sparring as you sent the blade flying toward Ebisu. It whirled past his ear before he could even blink, making a dull sound as it lodged in the tree bark behind him. Ebisu yelped in surprise. 

Gai laughed a jolly chuckle as you moved forward into him, faking him out with an uppercut before catching him with a round kick.

“Oh, now that’s a good one!” Gai howled, his movements growing quicker. You spat blood onto the ground following a rapid punch. Ebisu cringed from the sidelines, voice muffled by the hands he slapped over his face. 

“I can’t watch,” he lamented. 

“I don’t know what you’re complaining about,” Genma muttered, mouth sounding partially full as usual. He stood particularly still out of respect for the match. “It ends the same every time.”

The slight pivot of Gai’s posture in the dirt below and the change in the air pressure as his fist sailed toward you told you all you needed to know about his stance. You ducked under his arm by a margin, wrapping your arms around his neck as your leg shot swiftly behind his knees. And in a single moment, you had Gai down on the ground. 

“Yeah! What do you think about that, Maito!” You hollered. He writhed in the dry dirt, only causing you to tighten your hold on him. “You can thank Asuma for this one!” You felt three quick taps on your thigh and instantly let Gai go. He sputtered praise but sputtered nonetheless. 

“You… you gotta teach me…” he coughed. Genma let out a barely audible sigh, pushing off from where he leaned to come your way. He tossed something to you, and you caught the wet cylinder in your palm. You took a few chugs before offering it to Gai.

“Water, Gai. I can’t have you croaking on me just yet.” He took it from you, the air bubbles he made rippling through the liquid in the bottle. He sighed, breathing as heavily as you were. You offered him a hand, which he took. 

“That was absolutely stupendous! The best yet, I’d say.” 

“Yeah? You didn’t even win, Gai.” With your opposite hands still intertwined, you bumped chests before pulling away. You landed a punch on his arm. 

“Well, no, but you showed me that there are still things out there for me to learn!” You took back the water as you started off. Gai followed in tow, waving his arms as he raved about your daily sparring session. Genma stood and watched, hands in his pockets, as the two of you passed by. Ebisu came to stand beside him.

“Where are they going?”

“Beats me.”

Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed and otherwise supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

Notes: Lmao the move that Reader does is the same as Annie’s move from AoT. I kept trying to think of expletives for Ebisu, but the funniest one that came to mind was JESUS lmaooo I feel like Ebuisu would scream JESUS and CHRIST all the goddamn time

#might guy x reader #maito gai x reader #might guy #Maito Gai #naruto x reader #naruto #might guy fanfic #maito gai fanfic #naruto fanfic #x you #x reader #reader insert #naruto fanfiction

[ice-cap-k]

*I Always Had Been Partial to the Color Blue (Part 1)

Hey! Got a new story for part of the 2024 MCYT Horror Gift exchange ( @mcythorrorgiftexchange ). This is for the amazing @spicypotstickerbliss. I hope I did your request justice. I went a little wild with the prompt...

It's longer than my old whumptober stuff, so feel free to read it on AO3 here: I Always Had Been Partial to the Color Blue

CH 2

__________________________________________

“Keep running, Tommy!”

“But Wil-” “Don’t talk! Just Run!”

I shoved Tommy’s shoulder. I had meant to give him a boost, but he teetered mid-step and I panicked, digging my fingers into his shirt to keep him from falling forward. I didn’t let go. Couldn’t let go. It almost felt like I was dragging him forward, but his feet kept moving and he stayed in front of me. We were running as fast as our legs could carry us, even if my lungs burned and my feet were numb with cold. 

The cold. It seeped through my coat and fought against the heat wafting off my skin, the uncomfortable difference between hot and cold practically stinging me. Ultimately, though, it felt good. Like it was the only thing keeping me from passing out.

Tommy was only in his T-shirt and trousers. The petulant child had refused to put on something warmer when we first left the house to go see Tubbo. Then again, neither of us had imagined we would have gotten chased off the main path through the woods.

This was only meant to be a short trip. 

Awoooooooooooooo!!

That sounded like a wolf. 

It wasn’t a wolf. 

The howl was coming from right behind us. The baying of beasts calling for both of our blood had picked up in tempo. They knew that the two of us would have to tire soon. We couldn’t outrun them forever. How long had we even been running? Minutes? It felt like an eternity. 

Our only saving grace was the snow. As much as it weighed on my feet and made it more difficult to put one foot in front of the other, it seemed to be even more troublesome for our pursuers. 

When I dared to look back, just for a second, I caught sight of burning pink eyes and steam emanating off of brimstone tentacles. Something hissed and growled like an angry cat when one of Tommy’s steps kicked up a spray of slush and hit one of the figures following us square in the face. Claws flashed, and red pulsed purple-black, it fell behind another few steps, and I looked away, trying not to gag. There wasn’t time to stop and worry about losing the contents of my stomach.

“What the fuck?!! Wil! There, look! ” Tommy grabbed my wrist where I was still gripping his shoulder and pointed. I didn’t have time to see what he was referring to when he wrenched my arm to the side. Now he was the one pulling me. 

I stumbled over the snow, nearly running face-first into a low-hanging branch. “Tommy, I-” I cut myself off this time. Despite being fully aware of the things breathing down the back of my neck and swiping at my heels, it dawned on me that there was light up ahead. Tommy was still pointing, though the action was pretty shaky considering the fact that we were running. He wasn’t the best at holding steady, even on a good day, but throw in the need to dodge around trees and uneven footing down a hill in the woods meant Tommy was actually kind of all over the place. I followed the line of his finger as best as I could to the center of the blue light flickering and flaring down the slope ahead of us. 

“Is that a castle?” I asked between heavy breaths. 

That was the only thing I could think to call the massive building tucked away at the bottom of the valley. It was a crooked thing, made up of stone bricks stacked up on top of each other. The blocky center build took up most of the space with steeped roofs and swooping arches, while turrets that looked more tacked on than anything rounded out the corners. Long, tunnel-like wings swept off the sides and followed a frozen river that cut through the trees. The slate and copper-lined roof was sunken in places and completely collapsed in others. Vines and moss threatened to overtake the lower walls as if the forest was reclaiming it. 

Still, there was light. Torchlight. Lamp lights. Fires. Blue lights glowing behind windows that could have still had glass, or been covered over with paper for all that I could make out. Bright blue lanterns marked a small path of inlaid wood steps leading up to a front door where the snow had fully melted away. Someone had to be around to light those fires. Someone had to live there.

“Change of plans, Tommy. We go there and we call for help.”

“Already ahead of you, big man.”

We half slid, half stumbled our way down the rest of the hill. It was only by some miracle that we hadn’t slammed into a tree trunk on the way down. Some of our pursuers weren’t so lucky. Snapping tree branches and howls of pain and frustration assaulted my ears as we bottomed out at the end of the slope. 

“They’re stupid, Tommy. They’re giving us an opportunity. Don’t let it go to waste.” 

We both took off towards the first light along the muddy path. The trees were thinner here. Almost non-existent, and it didn’t take long for the creatures behind us to right themselves after the slip down the slope. Some of them were still hot on our trail. I could hear the panting of their breathing, and the sound of the snow sloshing beneath their feet as they struggled to stay on our tail.

A shape loomed out of the white ahead of us. There! On the trail further along. Someone riding horseback.  I was too focused on running to get a good look at them. Besides, it was too dark to make out their features. When they turned their horse around on the path to see me and Tommy barreling towards them with several terrifying creatures after us, their horse half-reared.

“Heh?!?!”

“Please help us,” Tommy screamed.

The stranger turned their horse around. I caught sight of a glint of moonlight on steel by their waist as they pulled on their reigns. “Phil,” came a deep-throated shout. For as loud as it was, they didn’t sound particularly concerned. “We’ve got a bit of an issue.”

‘A bit of an issue,’ sounded like an absurd understatement to me, even in the moment. I probably pulled a frown, not that I could see my own face, or that Tommy was looking at me to tell me what sort of expression I wore. I just remember thinking about how strange the horseman’s words were considering the situation. I had never seen anything like what was chasing us before tonight. Not in any scary campfire story or wild nature documentary on TV. And here Tommy and I were, accidentally leading their reaching claws and snarling fangs right to this guy.

Of course, I didn’t have time to dwell on those thoughts when my luck ran out.

Something tightened around my ankle.

I went down hard. All the air rushed out of my lungs as I fell belly-first against the first few stairs in the path. Deep, heavy, throbbing pain bloomed to life on my right side. It felt like someone took a sledgehammer to the bottom rib. Instinctively, I went to curl up to cover the spot, but when I did my fingers slipped from the snow-slicked edge of the stair and the thing on my ankle YANKED.

I screamed. I screamed Tommy’s name over and over as if he could help me. A voice in the back of my head worried it had gotten him to, but that was impossible. I could see him come to a stop alongside the horseman, who had drawn something razer thin and gleaming out from his side. Tommy’s blue eyes flew wide, mouth gaping open as our gazes locked for a millisecond. Then the grip shifted and I ended up on my back. From this angle, I couldn’t see Tommy anymore, but I could see what had gotten ahold of me.

I vaguely recognized one of the creatures that I had seen chasing us from amidst the pack. A dark-skinned creature, so black it was near impossible to make out most of its features. I could still see its eyes and mouth, though. Those were bleached completely white. They practically glowed compared to the rest of its complexion, and when it opened its mouth to snarl, I could make out long fangs where they left dark gaps in the stark white. Its clawed hand was wrapped around my ankle, and its grip was reinforced with a red vine or tentacle wrapping from its wrist onto my leg. 

Try as I might to kick and scream, I knew that there was no getting out of that grip. All I managed to do was knock the hood off of its horned head as the others from its pack began to draw closer. 

There was no consistency to them. The one on my leg might as well have been a demon. That one over there,  a giant cat, and the one with red eyes looked almost like it could be human. It certainly moved more like one than the others, glaring at me past blond bangs as if I was a particularly interesting bug.

In a desperate attempt to do something, anything, I swept my arm out and up, tossing an arc of snow up onto the thing gripping my leg. 

“Let go of me!”

The snow hissed and sizzled where it came in contact with pitch-black skin. The thing squawked in pain. The grip on my ankle loosened slightly, Clawed fingers loosened when it tried to shake the snow off so that only the red tendril remained. 

I kicked out against it. Pulled at the ground with my nails. Even tried sitting up to unwrap it from my ankle with my hands, but I couldn’t stay upright long enough to manage. There was a dull throbbing running up the length of my leg since the thing let go of me, and that pain was starting to drown out the waves of aches washing over my side. I blinked against it, surprised to see a dark shape pass across my vision. Was I seeing dark spots already?

SHING!

The pressure on my ankle disappeared. 

It still throbbed, but when I pulled my foot back towards the rest of my body there was no resistance. Part of the red tendril lay squirming in the snow. The other part was probably still attached to whatever had grabbed me, but I couldn’t make it out past the broad silhouette that now stood between me and the monster. 

And what an intimidating figure it was. From the back, I could make out a heavy cloak billowing in the late winter breeze, white diamond patterns appearing and disappearing in the shifting folds like whirling snowflakes. When the wind moved the cloak just right, I could make out heavy black boots and pale blue fabric that almost blended into the snowy landscape. Even further beyond that, I could make out the terrified gaze of the creature that had been chasing me as it backed away. Fur trim lined the top of the cloak where the black fabric shifted to red. And at the very top, a blue and white striped bucket hat sat atop a mop of loose blond hair. 

Their arm was positioned at their side. A steel blade hung from their hand, the very end dripping bright red dots into the white snow. 

Their shoulders shifted and the tip of their sword bobbed as they spoke up in a voice so cold it rivaled the winter air. “Looks like someone’s trespassing in our domain.”

I crawled backward, attempting to put some more distance between us. “I’m sorry,” I found the words tumbling out of my lips. 

The person in front of me turned to look over their shoulder. It was a man, old enough to be my father with stubble on his chin and eyes that first glinted like ice but warmed like the summer sky when they fell on me. 

“Oh, don’t worry. Wasn’t talkin’ about you. As for the rest of you lot, though…” His words lowered into a hiss as he turned back to face the pack of creatures that were backing away. All of them. Not just the one that had grabbed me. They all stared at the tip of his sword as he raised it, and flinched when another red drop fell from its edge. “I’d suggest running back to your own domain before the issue can become…” He spared another side-eyed glance at me. “Complicated.”

The creatures froze. They didn’t back up further, but they showed no signs that they were interested in approaching, either. They shared a few torn looks between themselves. 

“Oh, so you intended to trespass?” The man took a step forward and brought the blade out in front of him.

Their eyes flew wide. Any hint of doubt in their expressions vanished. They turned tail and fled back up the slope, clawing and leaping over each other to get away faster. Taking up the rear was the dark-skinned monster that had grabbed me. It ran with its wrist cradled in its opposite arm and its wiry tail tucked between its legs. 

“You alright mate?”

The man slid his stained sword into a loop at his waist as he turned to look at me. From the front, he looked warm and friendly. He wore a lopsided grin, and the brim of his hat was a little lopsided over his forehead. The warm clothes he wore looked fine enough to be meant for royalty, but yet still retained an almost militaristic air that did not match the casual slouch to his shoulders. He held out a hand.

I blinked at it, so stunned my brain needed a moment to catch up to what had just happened. I shot a glance down at the tendril that now lay still in the snow, then at the hill where the last of the monsters disappeared over the crest, before realizing he was offering to help me up. 

“Thank you. Thank you so much,” I croaked, taking his hand. He pulled me up easily. Surprisingly so, considering that once I was up on my feet it became clear that I was considerably taller than him. Even Tommy would have towered over this man. 

His eyes screwed shut as a wide smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. “No problem. Those guys can be such a pest sometimes. Far less friendly than us. I’d recommend steering clear of them if you can help it.”

“Sounds like sound advice,” I said with a laugh that was one part nerves and two parts relief. “The name’s Wilbur. To whom do I owe a thank you to?”

“I’m Phil.”

Phil? Like the name the gentleman on the horse had shouted? The guy that Tommy ran to? 

Wait… Tommy? Oh God, Tommy!

I pivoted on a heel to look behind me, but as I did so, I moved my leg and the throbbing pain came rushing back up my leg like bolts of electricity. The ankle gave out and the whole world tilted as I went down again. “Agh!”

“Careful there!” Phil’s arm managed to wrap underneath mine just in time to catch me before I could hit the ground. 

“Tommy,” I hissed through gritted teeth. “Where’s Tommy?”

“Wilbur! Wilbur are you alright?!”

Relief washed over me, even as I struggled to blink back tears. Snow crunched as Tommy came running. He gripped a bright red cloak, similar to Phil’s, over his shoulders. It covered his exposed arms. A hulking shadow of another man walked behind him at a much more laid-back pace. The horse stood back at the side of the path, tied by the reins to a wayward fence post. 

“I take it this is Tommy?” Phil asked with a chuckle.

I nodded. “I’ll be fine, Tommy,” I said. The pain made my voice come off strained. It wasn’t doing much to assure him, but my words were true. The worst of the danger seemed to have passed. “I think I’ve got a sprain, but that’s the worst of it.”

“That thing did have you by the ankle, didn’t it,” Phil asked, but didn’t seem like he was expecting much of an answer. His eyes narrowed as he looked down at the tendril lying in the snow.

The reassurance seemed to be enough for Tommy, who launched himself at me and wrapped his arms around my torso in a tight hug. There was a twinge as his arms brushed my ribs, but nothing worse than that. It would probably have a bruise there by morning. “Don’t ever do that shit again. You hear me?” he demanded. “I won’t have it. Next time I might not step up to protect you and what are ya going to do then, huh?”

Phil raised an eyebrow. “Protect him?”

“Pretty sure it was Phil who scared them off, kid.” At that point, the man who had been following behind Tommy came to a full stop an arm’s length away. He was dressed similarly to Phil with fancy pale blue winter attire. There was no fur-trimmed cloak, though Wilbur assumed that was where Tommy had gotten his warm new cover. Unlike Phil, though, this man’s expression and demeanor seemed a better match to his outfit. He held his head high and his shoulders stiff, pink hair pulled back in a perfect braid. Not a single hair was out of place, even around the gold circlet that sat above his brow. He was tall. A couple of centimeters taller than me, even. He looked down at me and Phil through wire-framed glasses. 

His expression was blank and stony. When I looked a little longer, though, I could have sworn I saw a spark of amusement in his eyes. 

“Well I was the one who thought to come here and called for help,” Tommy huffed. “I saw the castle, and I saw you, and you called for this guy.” He pointed a shaky finger at Phil. “If I wasn’t as big and strong and smart as I am, that wouldn’t have happened. So really, it’s because of me that Wilbur’s alright.”

Phil and the other man shared a glance. I rolled my eyes and reached out with the arm that wasn’t being supported by the sword-wielding, bucket hat-wearing man at my side so I could ruffle Tommy’s hair. The teen pulled away from the touch, but I just smiled. “You did good, Toms.”

“Of course I did.”

The man with the braid shrugged. “Whatever floats your boat. Where did you guys even come from?”

“Over the ridge,” I said, jutting my chin back in that direction. “There’s a path leading through the woods back to the town over there. Those things chased us here from the other side of the forest.”

“There’s a town over there now?”

Phil shot the pink-haired man a glare. “Sorry, about my friend,” he huffed. “This is Technoblade,” he said, bobbing his elbow in the other’s direction. “It’s been a while since we’ve been that way. You guys must have made it pretty far.”

“I’ll say,” Tommy whined. He pulled the cloak tighter over his shoulders and leaned away from me, kicking at a clump of snow. “My feet HURT.”

“Welp. That’s a shame.” Technoblade crossed his arms in front of his chest.

He was an intimidating man at first glance, but the change in posture broadened his shoulders and made me want to shrink out from under the shadow he cast. 

“The sooner you get out of here, the better. After that scare Phil gave them, our uninvited guests,” he said, monotonous voice dipping ever so slightly in what must have been disgust, “won’t risk coming back around for a while.”

“Hate to break it to you, but I’m not sure I can walk all that way back,” I admitted, and I hated the words as I said them. There was nothing I wanted more in that moment than to get me and Tommy back home, safe and sound. 

“Tommy, do you think I can lean on your shoulder?”

“No way,” Tommy snapped. I turned to look at him, surprised, and he stuttered. Backtracking. “I mean, of course, Wil. I would, but walking right now sounds like bullshit. Can’t we just go bunker down in that castle until morning?”

“I don’t-”

“No.” Technoblade didn’t give me a chance to consider it.

“Bitch!”

He looked down at Tommy with an expression that was impossible to read. “Me and Phil aren’t prepared to take visitors right now. Besides, if you plan on going home to whichever town you came from tonight, the best time is now.”

“Or tomorrow afternoon when the sun’s at its peak,” Phil said brightly.

Technoblade blinked and gave a good hard look at the man who was still supporting me. “Phil,” he hissed, and it had the barest hint of a whine at the end. Almost like he was pleading with his companion.

A hint of that steel returned to Phil’s eyes as he kicked at the severed tendril with the toe of his boot. “Wilbur here got his ankle wrapped up before I cut him free,” he said smoothly. “I think they might have got him good. Don’t you think it would be better if we were to take a good look at it? Make sure it’s nothing more serious?”

“You’re kidding?” Technoblade said, deadpan, although I had a sneaking suspicion that it was probably his default tone. 

Phil didn’t say anything. The two men stared each other down, some unheard conversation passing between them that I couldn’t make heads or tails of. Finally, Technoblade looked away first and his eyes bore into mine. 

“I… I promise we’ll be on our best behavior,” I offered. What could I say? The idea of trekking through the woods on my tender ankle didn’t sound like fun. And if we had to, I knew Tommy would help me walk. He would whine and complain the entire way there, but he would help. If it meant I didn’t have to put up with a long night like that, then I’d gladly stay in a literal castle with people who were clearly capable of keeping me and him safe from those things. 

Even if I had only just met the inhabitants. “Tommy, promise you’ll behave.” “But why should I?” “Because I am asking you to.”

“Need another reason than that, Wil.”

“Please, Tommy?”

Tommy threw back his head. Blond hair rustled in the winter breeze, catching passing snowflakes as he groaned. “Ughhhhhhh. Fine. I promise I will try to behave. Odds of me not breaking your shit goes up if you throw in dinner, too. I’m starved.”

Technoblade shifted from foot to foot. His eyes narrowed behind his glasses as he considered. Eventually, he let out a sigh. “Alright. But just one night. Let me go get Carl.” 

“Oh, good idea!” Phil tilted his head back and let out a high-pitched whistle. A high keen split the winter air almost immediately in reply. “I’ll take Wilbur on Dave and you take Tommy on Carl.” A second later, a large chestnut horse appeared. It crested over a hill and trotted up until it could press its head to Phil’s back. 

“Sure. Come on, kid. Have you ever ridden a horse before?”

Tommy screwed up his face into an open-mouthed scowl. “Ew. Of course not. They’re smelly and stupid.”

Technoblade arched one eyebrow. “Would you rather walk?”

“...Oh my! What an amazing horse! How wonderful and nice!”

The next few minutes were a mess. It took a lot of effort for me to get situated on Phil’s horse behind him. The process of climbing up sent pricks through my bad leg like hot knives tearing into me over and over again. More than once I had to stop just to catch my breath and wait for the pain to pass. It wasn’t so bad when I held my ankle still. Just a dull throb. Stretching and flexing it, though, made everything worse. 

Tommy wasn’t doing much better, but for reasons that were pretty typical for him. Mainly the arguing. The puffed-out chest and insistence that he knew what he was doing, even as his foot slipped out of the stirrup and he fell so hard against the saddle that it spooked the horse. 

I had to admire the man’s patience. 

Once we both were secure on the backs of the saddles, though, Phil and Technoblade kicked off and started down the path towards the castle. Technoblade and Tommy led the way, while me and Phil rode to the rear. 

“Does that place really belong to you?” I asked as I admired the crumbling walls. 

“It does,” Phil answered brightly. “We’ve been trying to fix it up for a while now, but things tend to get away from you, ya know?”

“And do those freaks from the woods come around often,” Tommy asked. He had a white-knuckled grip on the back of Technoblade’s belt that only got tighter with every other sway of the horse. 

“Eh.” Technoblade shrugged. “Not really. Put a sword through a few of them or threaten them a handful of times and they learn to leave you alone. It’s all about power. Showing them who’s the boss when and where.”

“I’m a total boss,” Tommy perked up. His grip loosened enough that it didn’t look like his nails were cutting into the leather belt anymore. “Any chance you could show me how to chase them off?”

Phil laughed.

Technoblade paused. He turned just enough to give Tommy a curious look over his shoulder before turning to face the path once more. “Maybe if you were older.”

Phil broke down laughing again. 

“So, what, you would show Wilbur but not me?”

“I’d rather just not run into those things ever again,” I said, shutting down that line of thought entirely. “The pen’s mightier than the sword for me. My skills are much better off put to use in politics.”

“Geez, Wil. Can you be less boring?”

“But debates are fun, Tommy.”

“No, they are fuckin’ not. Technoblade. If you won’t show me how to chase off monsters, then can you at least give me some pointers?”

“Yeah. Run.” 

Tommy scoffed. “You’re looking down on me. I don’t appreciate this treatment.”

Phil spoke up. “Techno’s right, though. Best thing you could do in those situations is to trust your gut. Both of you knew to run, and you ran. Everything turned out just fine.”

“Yeah, because you pulled out a wicked cool sword and fought them off. Not because we ran.”

“Well, that's what my gut told me to do. Something I didn’t want around was crossing over where it had no business being, so I acted as I saw best. See! Me following my better judgment and you following yours led to some pretty good results.”

Technoblade nodded. “It boils down to observation. You look. You listen. You make a judgment call.”

“Look and listen for what,” Tommy asked petulantly. “I’d much rather fight.”

At this point, the front door of the castle was well within sight. Phil pulled his horse up closer behind Technoblades. From this vantage point, I could no longer see Tommy up ahead. I could still hear the fabric of Technoblade’s outfit shift, see the barest hint of his pink hair over the tops of Phil’s hat and the horse’s ears as the man straightened. He spoke once more, that deep voice of his took on a hint of some emotion that I couldn’t identify but sent a shudder down my spine. 

“If the blood pounding in your ears could warn you of the danger at your back, would you listen then?”

“Well, yeah,” Tommy said, utterly oblivious to the change in Technoblade’s demeanor. “I’m not stupid. That literally just happened.”

______________________________________________________________

By the time Phil and Technoblade led me and Tommy into the lavishly decorated sitting room situated near the entrance to their castle, Technoblade had clearly become much more dismissive of Tommy’s big mouth. Which was good, because Tommy was making it pretty clear that the thing he wanted most out of life right now was to get under the man’s skin. He helped me limp through the front door while Phil rushed ahead to light a fire and warm the drafty old building. The entire time we walked, Tommy pestered our remaining guide with questions.

“Do you fight, or is it just Phil?”

“Is that sword just a fancy toy or something? I bet I could take you, easy.”

“What’s a couple of weirdos like you doing so far out here, anyway?”

He asked the last one as he helped lower me into an overstuffed velvet armchair. It was also the only question Technoblade bothered to address. 

“Me and Phil have always preferred to stick to ourselves. Last time I bothered to throw my lot in with other people, it didn’t go so well.”

“You got into a fight?” Tommy asked pointedly.

The barest hint of a smile pulled at the corner of Technoblade’s mouth. “Something like that.”

“Aha! So the sword isn’t just for show!”

“Tommy, I don’t think-”

“It is not.” Technoblade clicked his tongue. “And no, I am not showing you how to use it.” Tommy deflated a little at that. Technoblade continued. “Look. This is basically the place where I chose to retire. A place to call my own. It’s peaceful and out of the way, and normally I don’t have to worry about other people showing up.” His eyes flicked from Tommy to me. “So I apologize if I sound a bit rude, but I can’t help but feel a little- just a little concerned when two strangers come running up to me on my evening ride, screaming at the top of their lungs.”

“You didn’t seem very concerned about the monsters,” Tommy said with a frown. 

“Because I knew how they would react,” he said without missing a beat. “Me and Phil have dealt with them plenty. They’re easy to predict. I don’t know what to expect from the two of you.” His gaze fell on my throbbing ankle.

I sat up a little straighter in my chair. “Technoblade, if I may… We appreciate that you and Phil are willing to let us stay the night.” Even if Phil had to talk the other man into it. “I also understand that we are complete strangers in your home. I respect that. I really do. It can be scary letting someone brand new into your personal space, especially one as grand as this.” I motioned to the room surrounding us.

It was rather nice, as well, in a homely sense. Bookshelves and plush furniture with well-worn fabric from years of use filled the space. There were scraped wooden tables and worn spots on the floor. The hearth burned bright. Blankets and furs were strewn across the floors and furniture, helping keep the heat in the room. It looked like it could have been made to suit expensive tastes if everything didn’t look so old and well-worn. 

What little I saw of the castle on the way in didn’t fall too far from the mark either. Sure there were finely sewn tapestries along the walls, but most had looked pretty sun-faded. Sure the parquet floors were shiny and detailed, but the rails of stairwells were wound with brightly colored ribbons and there were scuff marks everywhere. Weapons lined glass cabinets, but some swords and spears were left resting out in the open, leaning against the wall or a banister where someone had left them and forgotten to put them away. 

It was a lived-in home, even if it was a castle. “But,” I continued. “I’m gonna admit that it’s pretty scary for us too. Frankly, I might still be in shock from that chase. We don’t know much about you two, either. So if it helps, I don’t plan on risking upsetting you.”

“Me either.”  To my surprise, Tommy chimed in an agreement. One that wasn’t laced with sarcasm or immediately followed up by an insult. I shoved down the pride I felt rising in my chest and smiled instead of vocalizing my approval. 

“You know the saying, never look a gift horse in the mouth.”

Some of the tension uncoiled from Technoblade’s shoulders. The crackle of the fire filled the air in place of words as he looked between the two of us. His eyebrow twitched. I caught sight of that amused twinkle in his eye once more. “Gift horse, huh?” 

What was I supposed to say to that? I tried opening my mouth but decided to let Technoblade’s question hang in the open air. I didn’t have anything that I was confident would sway him, so I decided to wait and see.

“Cool.” With two long steps, Technoblade crossed the room and sunk into the chair next to mine. “Good to have that all cleared up.”

“Have what cleared up?”

I startled at the sound of Phil’s voice. The other man swept into the room carrying a small box in one hand and a wooden crutch in the other. 

Technoblade waved him off. “Eh. These two just assured me they wouldn’t cause any trouble. That’s all.”

“Oh. Well, that’s good.” Phil dropped down onto one knee next to me and let the crutch rest on the floor. He flipped the lid off the box in his hands. Inside were rolls of gauze and bandages. Small, marked vials of liquid rattled as he began pulling out supplies. 

“Go ahead and make yourself feel right at home, boys. I brought the first aid kit and something to help you get around a little easier.”

“You couldn’t find anything better than that hunk of junk?” Tommy muttered.

I shot him a disapproving glare and tried to keep the embarrassed flush burning at the tips of my ears from becoming noticeable. “It’s fine. Honestly. We’re just happy for the help.”

“Of course, mate,” Phil said easily. “Hey, Techno. Could you take Tommy and show him around the rest of the castle? I’d like a little space while I take care of Wilbur’s ankle.”

“He means peace and quiet, Tommy.” 

“Shut up, Wilbur. I’m an absolute angel.”

Technoblade snorted. “Sure.” He pressed his hands against the arms of his chair and pushed himself back up to his feet. “Come on, Tommy. You feel up for a lesson or two on sparring?”

“For real? Like, with real weapons.”

“Of course.”

“Then hell yeah!” Tommy threw up his arms like he had just won something.

Tommy? Sparring. I gulped. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea…”

“Don’t listen to Wilbur,” Tommy shouted. “He’s just jealous because he can’t compete with these guns.” He held up both of his arms to flex his biceps. 

“I’m really not.”

“I’m sure it will be fine,” Phil said dismissively. “Techno knows his way around the sparring field better than anyone. Tommy may even learn a thing or two.”

It sounded more reassuring than it probably should have. 

“If you say so…” I conceded. It’s not like there was much I could do to stop Tommy. His eyes were already shining at the prospect. Knowing him, he’d probably get too tired to bother for very long.

The teen shot up from his seat and rushed to the taller man’s side. “I thought you said you wouldn’t teach me how to fight off those freaks from the woods?” Technoblade shook his head until the braid running down his back bobbed. “Oh, this won’t help with those guys. Trust me. But a little time to figure out how to defend yourself from the average thug would benefit anyone, and I want to blow off some steam. You up to the challenge?” “Boy am I!” Tommy followed Technoblade as the man made for the door. He had to slow down to keep up with Technoblade’s more leisurely pace. With all that excess energy, though, he might as well have been vibrating between each step.

“So what are we using, big man? Swords? Guns?”

“You said you wouldn’t show him how to use a sword,” I said quickly. “And no guns. Absolutely not.”

Technoblade rolled his eyes. “Didn’t plan on either of those, actually. You ever swing an ax, Tommy?”

“Like, a battle ax? Or do you mean for chopping wood?”

“Either?” “Nope,” Tommy crowed, popping the ‘p.’

Technoblade let out a weary sigh that made me laugh. Not many people were equipped to handle Tommy. This man was probably another of the long line of people whose patience wasn’t built to stand against the challenge, but I had hope. 

As I watched them retreat, I blinked and had to do a double-take. For a moment there, I could have sworn Technoblade’s blue clothes with white trim looked different. Shifted. More cream-white with red running down the sides like droplets soaking through the fabric. When I blinked again, the image righted itself and his clothes were clearly a pristine pale blue.

Tommy continued to badger poor Techno with questions about whether or not it would be a ‘real’ fight when they shut the door behind them. 

“Maybe sending them to blow off some steam was a good call,” I said with the smallest of chuckles. I pulled my eyes away from the shut door to where Phil was taking the catch off a roll of gauze. “Tommy’s great and all, but the kid doesn’t know how to contain himself.” 

“He seems like a handful. Here. Hold onto this if you would,” He passed me the loose roll of gauze and reached for a bottle of antiseptic. “Let’s get a better look at that ankle.” Gently, he pulled back the fabric of the bottom of my trousers.

The motion didn’t hurt, but I let out a hiss at the sight of the angry mark wrapped around my ankle. The skin was already bruising a dark purple where the creature had its fingers wrapped around me. Four shallow scratches, barely big enough to bead blood, ran from the top of my shin down to my foot where its claws had dragged the moment I kicked loose. In the gap where my skin had been exposed between the bottom of the trousers leg and my sock was a fiery red rash. The veins running beneath it were clear through the damaged skin. They leached out from the bruise, breaking up into smaller and smaller capillaries. I could feel the throbbing sensation pulsing from that point through the rest of my leg and foot. No wonder it hurt so much.

Phil let out a small gasp as soon as he saw it. His head flinched back. “Looks like they got you good.”

I gritted my teeth and looked away. Anything else in this room had to look more appealing than my leg right now. 

“Good lord! I didn’t realize it was that bad. They just grabbed me… I knew I would have a bruise or a sprain but not something like this. No wonder it feels like shit.”

Phil’s hands hovered over the worst of the rash as he considered how to approach cleaning it. “I was hoping for just a sprain, but it looks like ya got unlucky,” he said without looking up. “They’ve got something like a poison up their sleeves. Don’t always use it, but this time it looks like they did.”

“What, like a snake bite?” I scoffed.

He shook his head. “Nothing nearly so… deadly. But it’s not pleasant either. Gonna feel like shit.”

“I take it you and Technoblade had to live through that unpleasantness at some point?”

He shook his head again. “Nah. Not us, but I’ve seen what it does. Here.” With that, he flipped over the bottle and dumped its contents all over my leg.

The antiseptic STUNG. Almost as bad as the rash. The smell didn’t help to keep the tears out of my eyes either. I gritted my teeth to bear it while the rash practically sizzled. 

“Oi, watch it! You nearly kicked me.” “Sorry,” I sputtered. Some sort of fabric brushed against my ankle. Phil must have finished cleaning the wound and started wrapping it. When I turned back to look, Phil’s cloak moved. My eyes locked onto the folds of his black cloak. That. I could focus on that instead of my leg. The fabric was shifting as he moved. It rustled and twitched, and for a moment I could have sworn I saw feathers poking out from between the diamond patterns.

“Does that feel better?” “Huh?” My eyes snapped back to Phil’s blue eyes.

“How does that feel?” he asked with a smile. “Not too tight?”

When my eyes trailed down his back again, all I could make out was fabric. I must have imagined the feathers.

“Y-yeah. It feels fine. Not too tight.”

“Good.” He flipped the lid of the first aid kit closed. “That should take care of it for a while now. I’m no doctor, but it would be smart to avoid putting weight on it. That’s what the crutch is for. Give it the night, see how you’re feeling in the morning, and I’ll take another look at it then.”

He scooped the crutch off the ground and held it out for me. I slid to the edge of the chair and took it. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“No, really,” I insisted, pushing off from the chair. It took some effort to balance. I teetered as I figured out how to leverage the crutch, but Phil was right there with an arm hovering, waiting to reach out if I needed it. After a few seconds, I got a feel for how to best adjust my weight without havint to use my bum ankle. “I appreciate the help,” I admitted. I was now confident enough with my balance to tap the crutch against the floor. “You and Techno didn’t have to put up with us for the night, and you certainly didn’t have to go to this length.” 

His blue eyes flashed, and for a moment they looked far too deep and far too vast. Like an ocean in an iris, or the dome of the sky. “Pffft, as if I was just goin’ to leave ya out there. As if. As much as Techno might have put up a good front, he’s not all that bent out of shape about it.  If he minded that much, he wouldn’t have rushed off to go play with Tommy.”

I paused, blinking wide-eyed at him. “Play?!”

Phil’s smile grew a little wider. “You heard what I said. Trust me, I’m sure those two are having fun. I can also say with one hundred percent certainty that it’s no skin off our back. You’re welcome here.” 

I opened my mouth to thank him once more, but he wrapped his arm under mine in a show of support and cut me off before I could even start. “Now, I don’t know about you, but it’s getting late and I’m starved,” he said. “Any chance I can talk you into helping out in the kitchen?”

______________________________________________________________

Helping out in the kitchen mostly consisted of sitting on a stool and chopping vegetables while Phil did most of the work. It was a big kitchen for two people, but Phil had an odd way of filling the space. He easily fluttered back and forth between burners and the icebox, counters and the cupboards. Sometimes he swung the hinged doors open and shut as he went. Sometimes he left drawers and cupboards open well after he pulled out what he needed.  In no time at all, he had multiple pots boiling and a roast in the oven. 

As he worked and I chopped, we talked about life. He politely asked about the basics of my life. Where Tommy and I were from, what I liked, what kind of career I was pursuing. He never pushed for details if I didn’t outright give them to him. And in turn, he told me a few stories about his life before coming to this castle. 

It made me a little jealous, hearing about how he had flown all over the world when he was younger. Literally. He had even gone so far as to spend some time in the Antarctic. That would explain why he didn’t mind the winter chill here. I can only imagine the types of people he met. The things he saw. I hung on to every word.

Not all of it sounded like a walk in the park. He didn’t push for details in my life, so I tried to extend the same courtesy, but my curiosity was in full swing as he talked about dog fights over the ocean and the civil wars that he and Techno had fled. 

I guess that was some of what Technoblade was hinting at when he mentioned that the last time he mingled with people, it didn’t turn out so well. 

By the time the roast came out of the oven, Technoblade popped his head in to check on the time. He and Tommy had called it quits on their little sparring session. They set the table while Phil transferred potatoes and vegetables onto platters for serving. Everything got moved to a cozy dining room with a small table looking out of place in the regal space. It was big enough to seat six at maximum but perfect for the four of us. I didn’t do any of the prep work. I hobbled out of the kitchen and took a seat at the table where Phil pulled out a chair for me. 

“So, how was the sparring session?” I asked as I poured gravy over my cut of roast. I still had my doubts that Tommy had bothered with strenuous physical activity for as long as he was gone. 

Tommy speared a carrot so hard his fork clattered against the plate. “Fuckin’ boring. Techno kept trying to show me ways to hold the ax and swing it. Everyone knows how to swing an ax.” He mimed the motion with his fork, swinging it over his head to the point where I was afraid the carrot might fall off. 

“Always start with the basics,” the pink-haired man said evenly. “You seemed pretty excited when it finally clicked that moving your shoulders with the motion did more damage to the target.”

“That was just me unlocking my big, powerful muscles.”

“Uh-huh.”

Phil folded his hands in front of him, propping his elbows on top of the table so he could rest his chin against his knuckles. “So I take it you wouldn’t be interested in another lesson tomorrow morning?”

Tommy brought his fork back down to his plate and straightened up in his chair. His eyes flew wide with giddy excitement. “Wait, is that an option?”

Both me and Phil laughed at the same time over that. “So I guess it wasn’t that boring after all?”

“...Maybe.”

“You’re not fooling anyone, Tommy,” I teased. Tommy sputtered a handful of unintelligible syllables as he tried to think of a comeback while I turned to Technoblade. “He didn’t give you too much trouble, did he?”

“Excuse me, I was an absolute angel!”

Techno finished chewing his bite of the roast before setting his knife and fork down on the napkins folded on either side of his plate. This guy had been the perfect image of prim and proper as he ate, as opposed to Phil who was comfortably slumped in his chair as he shoveled a few bites of roast beets into his mouth. 

Techno shrugged. “The kid picked up a few things pretty quickly. I wouldn’t mind going over a few more forms tomorrow morning.”

Phil shot me a lopsided smile from across the table and wiggled his eyebrows as if to say ‘see? I told you so.’ 

Tommy didn’t seem to be sporting any fresh bruises or cuts, so I chalked it up to a good thing.

“What about you two,” Techno asked. 

“I’d say our evening was pleasant,” I said as I cut into my portion of roast. “Phil had a lot of very interesting stories to tell. It sounds like you two have had quite the adventure.”

“Really?” Techno shot Phil a look. “What kind of adventure did you discuss?”

“Just the Antarctic and a few of our side excursions.” Phil popped a chunk of potato into his mouth and twirled his fork through the air as he chewed. 

Technoblade relaxed a little deeper into his chair. “Ha! Yeah, those were great times. I’m sure Phil gave you the rundown on how we ticked off our neighbors.”

“Of course I did.”

“It’s given me a lot of my own ideas. You should hear all about it, Tommy. It’s a really good story.”

“Sounds boring.”

“You might learn something new.”

“Don’t care. Hard pass.”

I snorted. “I’ll just tell you about it on the way back home.”

He pulled a disgusted face, but I ignored it. 

With a bit of insistence on my part, Phil hit the highlights of what he told me. This time, Techno was nearby to provide his input. It wasn’t much, but the pink-haired man would offer a “humph” of agreement here and there, or offer a few extra details of what he worked on while the two of them were working apart. Tommy perked up at the talk of business and air battles and rolled his eyes when it came to the political impact of it all. I found it just as interesting to listen to the second time around as it was on the first.

The topic began to drift as time went on and we cleaned our plates. We talked about our day, about me and Tommy’s hometown, and what we were studying. Phil and Techno talked about how they filled their days with hunting, horse riding, and dog-breeding… apparently. 

To be honest, I was enjoying myself. Whatever tense feelings from earlier were gone. The atmosphere was warm and cozy. We were just a couple of people getting to know each other and sharing a few laughs. 

But as I polished off the last of my food, something caught my eye.

It was such a little thing. I’m not even sure what made me notice it.

It’s just that, wasn’t Technoblade drinking a glass of water a moment ago?

The glass in his hand was stained red. Red like wine, but when his arm moved the liquid inside looked thicker than alcohol. 

I looked over to see if there was a bottle of wine on the table I hadn’t spotted before, but when I did, the unnatural movement of something along Phil’s shoulder pulled my attention.

Had Phil swapped out his cloak? 

There were feathers along the trim instead of fur. 

I found myself looking back and forth between the two. Their laughter and Tommy’s wild shouting faded into the background. I could still hear them, but the words were muffled in my ears. The longer I looked at our two hosts, the sharper their outlines appeare. 

That was when I noticed that there was something else there. 

It was like someone had superimposed an image on top of what I was seeing. On one hand, I could clearly make out Phil and Technoblade. They looked just how I expected them to look. Phil’s near-endless sky-blue eyes, blond hair, and always-present smile. Technoblade’s long braid, mouth set into a thin line, and subtle amusement crinkling at the corners of his eyes. That was there. That was them. But there was also something else where they sat. Something hazy around the edges. Something that gave me the impression of long tusks and hunched wings.

I squinted my eyes, trying to make out what I could possibly be seeing.

Then Technoblade noticed me staring and turned to face me.

As soon as our eyes met, the hazy image flared like a sunburst. Colors and shapes solidified and then washed out like an overexposed photo. Dark eyes glinted red and violent. 

“Wh-” 

I dropped my fork, and the other image vanished entirely.

Phil’s eyes locked on me, sky blue sharpening to pale steel. “Is something wrong, Wilbur?” I dragged my attention back to him, sucking in a breath. He was looking at me with a curious tilt to his head. 

I dared to steal another glance at Technoblade. His eyes were thrown wide open, shoulders held stiff. It was the most emotion I had yet to see the man show.

He put down his glass. It was filled with water. Regular, clear water.

Phil leaned forward in his seat, shoulders stooping as his elbows rested against the tabletop. The trim at the top of his cloak was lined with fur.

“I…. I’m fine.”

“You sure, mate? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Ghost? More like a monster. I shook my head as if that could knock the image of what I thought I just saw right out of my thoughts. “It’s nothing,” I insisted. “I think the stress of the day is starting to get to me.”

Phil and Technoblade exchanged a glance. “And what makes you say that?”

“I think I might be starting to see shit. Call it PTSD or whatever the fuck you like, but I feel like I’m starting to imagine monsters.”

“Like the ones that chased us?” Tommy asked.

“Kind of.” A shudder ran down my spine and goosebumps ran up my arms. A sympathetic twinge pulled at my ankle, and I adjusted it beneath my seat. My imagination must have been running wild. What I saw had been just as unnatural as the creature that had grabbed me, but it made my heart rate spike in a way that not even the run through the trees had managed to do.

“Please excuse me.”

Technoblade abruptly pushed back his seat, grabbed his cutlery, and in a few brisk steps he was out the door.

Tommy frowned and turned to Phil for answers. “Where’s Techno going?”

His bright blue eyes narrowed. The creases around his eyes grew for a moment as something akin to worry passed over his expression. I could have imagined that too, though, because in the blink of an eye that easy breezy smile was back on his face. He waved off Tommy’s question with one hand. “Off to his room, probably. He’s a creature of habit. He’s got his own set of nightly rituals like anyone else.”

“Will he come back out?”

Phil hummed. “Probably not. He’ll be up bright and early tomorrow, though.” 

“Well, alright I guess.” Tommy made no effort to hide his pouting. He slumped deeper into his seat.

“We got a late start on dinner as it was,” Phil mused, drumming his fingers against the table. “Maybe it would be a good day to follow his lead. Hit the hay. What do you two think?”

“Yes, please,” I groaned, carding a hand through my hair. “Before I start having any more waking nightmares like a crazy person.”

Phil flinched. I know for a fact I didn’t imagine that one. 

“I am perfectly fine.” Tommy stuck his nose in the air. “But if you were to show us where we’ll be sleeping then I demand the biggest luxury suite you’ve got.”

Phil pushed back his chair and stood up. “Right. We’ve got a couple of spare rooms in the east wing. I’ll show you where to go. Leave your plates. I’ll come back for them later.”

________________________________________________________________

“Did you actually have fun today, Tommy?”

“I’m not sure if fun is the right word, Wilbur. We were chased through the woods by ugly beasts.”

“Fine. Let me rephrase. Did you actually have fun learning how to swing an ax? Not too sore, are you?”

“It was alright.”

Tommy pulled his legs up onto the bed he would be using for the night. His words were nonchalant, but his eyes were shining. 

“So if we were to leave without you doing another sparring session with Technoblade, you wouldn’t be disappointed?”

“Whoa whoa whoa, hold up there, bub.” Tommy’s voice shot up a couple hundred decibels. “I never said that.” 

I chuckled. 

Me and Tommy finally had some time alone. Phil had been kind enough to show us to our rooms and leave us be. Breakfast was in the morning, and he made it clear we were welcome to stay after that for a bit. Noon would be the best time to travel safely, according to him. Considering he was the one who knew how to swing a sword and scare off monsters, I trusted his better judgment. 

Tommy let himself flop backward against a row of pillows. “This place is cool. So are Technoblade and Phil. It’s crazy we’ve never realized they were out here this whole time.”

“We’ve never had much reason to leave the path.” 

“Ugh, don’t remind me of that. I can just imagine what Tubbo’s doing right now. He’s so obsessed with me. He probably can’t sleep.”

As hyperbolic as Tommy tended to be, I couldn’t help the seed of guilt that had rooted itself in my gut. The truth was, Tommy might be right about that. “We’ll clear it up when we get back. Eventually, we’ll look back at this and laugh.” “Maybe I can make it up to him by showing him this place. Go when it’s nice and bright out and freaky shit isn’t happening.”

“Techno didn’t seem all that interested in us stopping by unprompted. Might want to warn him if you plan on bringing Tubbo.” The castle might not survive the two of them together.

Tommy snorted. “Sure I will,” he said. It was an utter lie, with all the sarcasm he could possibly inject into his voice. Oh well.

“Hey Tomm, you uh… You didn’t notice anything strange at dinner, did you?” 

“Other than the fact that you ate something as disgusting and shitty as vegetables, no. Why?”

“No reason.”

He tilted his head to get a better look at where I was seated at the end of the bed. The crutch leaned precariously against one of the bedposts. I noticed him looking, how his eyes trailed down to my ankle even as I tried to keep my gaze on the moon hovering just outside the window.

“How you feeling, Wilbur?” “I’m fine, Tommy.”

“And the, uh… the ankle?” 

“I barely notice it.”

That wasn’t entirely true. It still throbbed on occasion, and though Phil had wrapped it tight and cleaned it well, the rash was starting to smart beneath the gauze. The stinging wasn’t unbearable, though. If anything, I took that as a sign that it was starting to heal. This had to be the itch before it began scabbing over. As long as I didn’t jostle the sprain too much, it was manageable. 

“You sure?”

I threw a pillow at his face. “What? You don’t believe me?”

“Hey!”

Tommy wasted no time flinging another couple of pillows directly at my face. The downy surface packed a surprising punch. I battered them away as best as I could with an elbow until Tommy grew tired and slumped back against the mattress.

“Seriously, Wil. If you don’t feel up to it tomorrow, just say something. I’d hate it if a weak, fragile thing like you are now went and hurt yourself further. Protecting you all through the woods would be a tall order, even for me.”

The smile dropped off my face because for all Tommy’s bluster, I knew what he really meant. 

He’s worried about me. 

Wasn’t that a scary thought? It was supposed to be the other way around, what with me being so much older than him. 

I tried to play it off with a bit of humor. “I think we might drive Phil and Techno up the wall if we stuck around longer than necessary.”

“They’d let us stay,” Tommy said without an ounce of doubt. He propped himself up on an elbow as he lay on his side to get a better look at me. “They seem cool like that. And it’s not like staying another night would be awful. I mean, it’s a fuckin’ castle.” He waved his hand out above him, letting his fingers wave at the ancient walls and ceiling. 

He wants to stay longer.

My ankle twinged with a pinprick of pain.

“I’ll tell you what. Let’s see how I feel in the morning. Okay?”

“Alright.”

“Good.” I patted my palm against the side of the mattress and reached for the crutch. “Now get some sleep. It’s late. We’re both exhausted, and I don’t think I can stand spending any more time around you right now,” I teased.

“I’m not exhausted,” he huffed, only to immediately let out a yawn.

“Sure you’re not.”

With a heave, I was propped back up on the crutch and my one good foot. My crutch tap tap tapped against the tile floor as I made my way across the room.

“I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Night, Wilbur.” 

“Night, Tommy.”

I left the candle flickering on the nightstand for the teen to put out whenever he was ready. The door clicked shut behind me and I began my clumsy trek back to the room next door. It was late, and now that Tommy was all squared away I was allowing my worries to settle. Exhaustion really was finally dawning on me. 

I was going to sleep hard tonight, as long as I could find a way to get comfortable and not jostle my foot too much.

____________________________________________________________________________

The sun filtered through the gap in the heavy curtains. I could feel its warm rays against my back. It felt good to lie in bed a little longer than necessary, basking in the heat of the sun like a cat. 

It was morning. 

It had been a blissful, dreamless night. 

There wasn’t a cloud in the sky. It even looked pleasantly warm out, if the dwindling snow on the ground was anything to go by. Tommy and I should be safe to go back home now. 

Phil and Techno had been pleasant last night. I wasn’t necessarily in a rush, but I was also very aware of the fact that we hadn’t had the chance to tell anyone where we were. Tubbo had been expecting us to show up last night. He would have panicked when we never did. That would take some apologies and smoothing over once we got back. 

With a deep breath, I pulled myself out from under the covers and began to get ready for the day.

It wasn’t hard. I only had the clothes on my back, and Phil and Techno hadn’t pointed out a shower last night. Just the nearest, bare-bones bathroom they had set up. It was probably somewhere on the other side of the castle. I’d have to ask them about it. For now, though, I settled for passing a comb over my hair and straightening my clothes as best as I could. 

A quick glance outside gave me a beautiful view of the rising sun glistening across the frozen river. Red streaks worked their way across the shallow hills in long lines, highlighted by tha shadow of tall grass and snow. They wavered in the rising sun as if they were moving, the landscape practically breathing.

Like the day outside, it felt like things were looking bright. My leg was no longer stinging. The throbbing had gone down, but not quite stopped. There was a pep in my step as I tried to make the room look as tidy as it had been before I showed up. It seemed rude to leave the bed a mess, so I straightened the sheets a little before hobbling out the door.

Tommy’s room was right next to mine. I stopped at the door and rapped my knuckles against it. “Morning, Tommy!”

“Wh-wha…”

He was never much of an early riser.

“Wake up, sleepy head.”

“Go away, Wil. Let me sleep in peace.”

“Aw, and I thought you would be excited to wake up in a castle and head down to breakfast.”

“Phil or Techno can come to wake us up when they're ready for that shit. They never gave us a time. Now go away and let me sleep.”

I rolled my eyes. “Fine. If you miss breakfast, that’s all on you.”

A few grumbled curse words filtered through the door. That was all I was going to get out of him until he was ready to come out on his own time. 

That was fine. There was an entire castle for me to explore. I wasn’t sure where Phil or Technoblade would be, but I wasn’t Tommy. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind me looking around the place as long as I didn’t touch anything that looked important. It wouldn’t hurt to check out a few side corridors while on my way down to the dining room. And if Phil and Technoblade weren't there, then I was sure there were a few rooms nearby I could check out. They both seemed like learned men. Perhaps they had a library around here somewhere?

I lowered myself down a staircase with some difficulty and found myself in a particularly fancy hall. There were glass cases with all sorts of odds and ends on pedestals. Pieces of pottery, old maps, measuring equipment, and a handful of decorative weapons were displayed prominently, as were beautiful hangings made from quilted fabrics; tapestries, pendants, and flags. They depicted old civilizations and glorious battles. I took it all in excitedly as I walked.

It also looked like someone had already been this way. 

Fires were lit down the length of the hall. Torches were placed in sconces to light up the darker corners while braziers and lamps took care of the bulk of the lighting. That was a good sign that someone had come through recently to light them all.

I was so busy taking everything in, it was surprising to hear something other than the crackle of the torches.

Babump!

What was that?

I whirled around, taking in the fine masonry with all its cracks and chipped paint. Scanned the faded banners and tarnished braziers hanging from the ceiling by fine linked chains. Nothing seemed to have fallen. No rats were scurrying through the shadows in the corners from what I could see. I strained my ears, listening.

Babump!

There it was again. I know I heard something, but nothing moved. Nothing outside of the snap and crackle of the fire lighting the hall. I narrowed my eyes, trying to see if there was something else I could be missing. Anything else.

Babump!

The slightest bit of movement caught my eye. It wasn’t by the ground where a rodent might be trying to hide, or at eye level where any of the ancient decor stood, but up by the ceiling. There, in the corner where the light of the torches didn’t hit, something was sliding down the wall. It was so small and fast, that I was surprised I noticed it at all.

Gingerly, I made my way over until I stood beneath that same spot on the wall and craned my head back. Whatever it was it dripped down the stone. Something liquid, but thick and slow and dark. I couldn’t tell what it was in this light. I reached up.

Babump!

It dripped. A warm droplet hit the center of my ring finger and pooled down in the space where it met my pinky. 

My lip curled up at the feel of it. Gross. It felt sticky. It stank of iron and looked ruddy like it had picked up some rust from wherever it seeped out of. I flicked my hand away, knocking as much of it off as I could. Dark flecks speckled the cobbled floor, but my hand was still stained and sticky. 

When I looked back up at the wall, rivulets of the strange liquid started streaming down the cracks in the mortar. The first stream was already trickling past eye level down to the floor.

Babump!

Something dripped on my nose. With the forefinger of my already messy hand, I reached up and wiped at it. Sure enough, there was more of that dark liquid. The smell of iron was growing worse now. It was practically scathing against my nostrils. I did my best to wipe it off of my nose and clear away the smell. My skin wasn’t even dry yet when more droplets fell right in front of me. They splattered the floor in front of my toes. I looked up to see a large wet spot pooling in the ceiling. The droplets running down the wall were growing more numerous now. The seams between the stone bricks were starting to look more like little streams. A steady trickle of the dark liquid was running along the mortar paths. A small puddle was pooling at its base. 

“Hey, uh, guys?” I called down the hall, hoping one of our hosts could hear. They couldn’t have gone far. Not yet. Someone had to have lit the fires. Surely if I shouted loud enough, they would notice. “I think you might have sprung a leak or something.”

Babump!

I felt more droplets splashing off the shoulders of my coat. I backed away. Hopefully that wouldn’t leave a stain. Whatever leak they had must have come on suddenly and quickly, because the dark water was now practically running down the walls. Had a pipe blown? Did this place even have running water? 

“Hello! There’s a mess starting over here. Can you hear me? Phil? Techno?” There was no answer. 

The puddle was growing bigger. About to reach my shoes. I backed further away. I shouted louder. “HEY! SOMETHING’S WRONG.”

Babump!

When I looked around, It dawned on me that this spot on the wall wasn’t the only one leaking. The opposite wall had streams of murky liquid running down it. The firelight danced across its slick, undulating surface. It roiled and flickered like angry red sunlight over deep dark rivers. It was getting harder and harder to make out the wall beneath it all.

Splotches were seeping through the brightly colored tapestries of knights marching, staining their bright white armor and horses into an ugly red.  

Puddles were spreading out from the entire length of the hall as far as I could see. Even far off where the furthest brazier burned and the rest of the space fell into shadow, I could see the light flickering off wet walls. 

And the smell! The smell!! It was so strong I could almost taste the metallic tang now. The sickly sweet notes now underlying the overwhelming smell of iron only made it worse. 

This… this couldn’t be a burst pipe. Could it?

Babump!

The puddles were closing in. The ruddy liquid was pressing in from all sides. I looked behind me and there was more lapping at the heels of my shoes. I took a step, more to test the floor than go anywhere. The liquid felt oddly thick. Droplets splashed up onto my ankles. 

I panicked.

“Help! Phil! Techno! Somebody! Can anybody hear me? Something’s wrong! Something’s wrong! Something’s wrong!” 

I shouted it at the top of my lungs and took off as fast as my bum leg could handle. Having to use a crutch was horribly slow, and every time instinct tried to kick in and have me put my weight on it, horrible throbbing rocked that side of me.

“Something’s leaking! The hall is filling! What’s happening?!?”

Babump!

And yet it kept dripping down. Tapered streams of red poured off the ceiling and dripped off sconces and braziers so that their flames sputtered and threatened to go out. It was getting harder to slosh my crutch through the heavy liquid. It already pressed uncomfortably against both ankles, leaking into my shoes, and threatening to climb higher. 

I spotted a light at the end of the tunnel, both figuratively and literally. There were shafts of light stretching out from a crack in a door. I zeroed in on that light and threw my all into getting there. Someone had to be inside.

I slammed my fists against the wood. “Who’s in there?! The hallway’s flooding!?! Please!”

Babump!

The door flung outwards and I shrieked. 

Something was towering over me in the doorway. A beast that put to shame each and every one of the monsters that chased me through the woods. It had a bristly hide and cloven hooves. Eyes flashed an angry, fiery red, and beneath those were long tusks that dripped blood red. 

Another scream dried up in my throat. I had half the thought to back away when my crutch slipped. It fell out from underneath me and I found myself tumbling backwards. My backside hit the growing pool of red liquid and sent foul-smelling blood seeping through my clothes.

Because that’s what this was. I knew it deep within my bones now. I was sitting in a massive hall flooded with blood. Blood that ran down the walls and threatened to fill the entire castle. Blood like the gore that dripped from the tusks of the monster that leaned closer and closer and closer…

I threw my arm up over my eyes.

Babump!

“Wilbur?”

Huh? 

With some effort, I forced my eyes open and lowered the arm in front of my face. 

There before me, standing in the doorway and looking over me with a surprising amount of concern was Technoblade. I took a shaky breath and flicked my gaze back and forth to look at my surroundings. The hall was pristine. Well, not pristine. It was still dusty and a little scuffed from years of boots passing over the threadbare carpets, but it was dry. Nothing was dripping from the ceiling or running down the walls. The floor was clear. My clothes weren’t actually soaked with red. I took a long, slow breath in through my nose and my heart soared as I realized there wasn’t a metallic tang in the air. It smelled a little musty, and that was all.

A hand waved in front of my eyes and pulled my attention back to the man in front of me. “Wilbur,” Technoblade said again, this time a little sharper. “Are you okay?”

“I… I-I… I…”

“Geez, man. Please don’t tell me you’re going into shock or something. I’m not equipped to handle that sort of thing.”

I didn’t trust my voice enough to form a coherent sentence, so I shook my head.  

“Not shock?” Techno leaned further past me and looked up and down the corridor with wide eyes. “Phil is much better at this sort of thing than me,” he admitted, worrying at his bottom lip with his teeth. If he was looking for Phil, he was out of luck. Nobody else was nearby. I was surprised Techno was here in the first place. 

“Let’s get you up off the floor. It’s gotta be cold down there.” 

He stooped down to wrap his arms under mine. I braced myself to help push myself to my feet, but in the blink of an eye Techno had me back up on my feet. The motion was fluid and fast. As effortless as picking up a doll and plopping it back down.

“I-I just…” I swallowed a lump in my throat and tried pulling myself together. “I just heard something. I… I heard something and I don’t- I didn’t know what it was.” A nervous laugh bubbled up in my chest.  “God, I must still be half asleep. You really scared me there for a second.”

Some of the tension in his shoulders uncoiled. The concern on his face began to fade. He let out a grunt. “Heard something? Mind describing it to me?”

I wasn’t about to tell him about a wall that bled faster than a heart could beat. I wasn’t.

“Rhythmic,” I started, and wanted to kick myself when my voice pitched high. “Booming, maybe? Just a couple loud thumps. Probably nothing worth concerning yourself about, I’m sure. Could have just been footsteps. There’s a second floor above here, right?” Better. My voice was closer to its normal register, but now my words were picking up speed. That was more believable, right?

To my surprise, Technoblade perked up. “Rhythmic, you say? I think I know what you heard.” He nodded his head towards the room he just emerged from and went back inside. “Here. I want to show you something.”

I took a moment to stop and process. Probably too long. I doubted that he knew exactly what I was talking about, but if there was some sort of reasonable explanation past that door, I was in desperate need of something to cling to that could prove I wasn’t going crazy.

Color me surprised when I followed him inside. 

“Drums?”

The corner of Technoblade’s mouth turned up in the barest hint of a smile as he looked at the strung-up instruments. There were two padded mallets left on the mantle of a fireplace at the front of the room. The leather stretched across the drumheads was scuffed from plenty of use. When Techno looked back at me, he tilted his head and raised his eyebrows. 

“Everyone’s gotta have a hobby,” he droned in that monotonous voice of his. 

I laughed again, utterly relieved. That explained half of my hallucination, which was more than I could have hoped for. 

I wiped at the corner of my eye. “Forgive me, Technoblade. I didn’t take you to be much of a musician.”

“Well, I’ve always been pretty good at dishing out hits. Phil likes to think that this allows me to put that energy towards a more creative option.”

That sounded a little more in line with what I knew about Technoblade so far. 

He picked up one of the mallets and let it twirl across the back of his hand. The handle wobbled over the catch of his knuckles before falling neatly back into his palm. Then he pointed the fabric-wrapped tip at my chest. “You play?”

“Not the drums. I’m more of a guitar man myself. Had this dream of starting up a band one day and figured the guitar made the most sense. But now that I’ve said that, you wouldn’t happen to know how to work a full drumset, would you?” The massive bass and snare drums in front of me gave me hope.

Which was immediately snuffed out when he shook his head. “Sorry. I’m not that kind of drummer.”

“Then what kind are you?” “The war drum kind.”

I rolled my eyes. “Technoblade, I’m sensing a running theme with you.” 

“Then that means I’m staying on brand.”

It was hard to argue with that.

“You know,” he continued, drawing the words out. With one hand, he reached out to run his fingers across the edge of the nearest drum head. He placed the drumstick back on the mantle with the other. “I do enjoy it. Outside of techniques and terminology, or even staying on brand, it gives me something else to focus on. It feels good. 

“For instance, there’s nothing quite like the beat of a drum. It’s more than sound. The best bass drums can be felt deep in your bones.” He placed a hand on his chest over his heart. “Have you ever stood next to one as it’s being played?”

I had. 

“You can feel every stroke in your chest. It resonates. Like a heartbeat. Thud. Thud. Thud.” With each spoken ‘thud,’ he pounded his fist against his chest. The fingers resting against the drumhead tapped in time, making tiny, hollow sounds in the instrument.”

I could imagine the thrum in my own chest, as clear as if I were standing next to the drumset on stage again.

“The sound goes for miles. And like a heartbeat, it’s good for keeping time. That’s why drummers played over the sounds of battle while men marched in time. They relaid orders by playing codified beats that the others had memorized. It kept the tempo while men bled for their country.”

His phrasing nearly made me shiver.

“If you look into the history of it, what you find might pique your interest,” Technoblade finished, pulling both hands back so he could clasp them behind his back.

“Huh. Interesting. I was under the impression Phil was the history buff.

Techno smirked. “He’s seen his fair share, but I’m fairly well-read.”

“So I take it that those antiques on display in the corridor are yours?” 

He grunted. “Eh. Most of them. Comes with the territory. We are in a castle, after all. There’s a lot of history here as well.”

I turned my back on him so I could peer out the door. It perfectly framed a small glass case shoved against the opposite wall with a gold totem inside. “I can only imagine the stories they’d tell.”

“If the walls could bleed, would you listen to the kind of stories they would tell?”

A shiver crawled down my spine and whipped back around to face Technoblade. There was that odd tone of his again. The same one he used during the horse ride up to the front gates. It practically echoed with a thousand other voices, years and years of experience and expectation packed into an odd question. Experience and expectation that Techno didn’t appear old enough to have. He looked like he could have been a year or two older than me at the most, though, that odd sense of maturity did seem to ooze out of every aspect of his personality. 

And what a question to ask. One that hit a still-fresh nerve.

My heart raced once more as crystal-clear images of red dripping down walls and soaking through tapestries ran across my mind. 

I shook my head. “I don’t think I would, honestly.”

Something sparked in the back of Techno’s eye. That barest glint of amusement. He tilted his head at an angle and let a huff of air out of his nose. “Yeah. You don’t seem the type.”

What did that mean? I narrowed my eyes at him. “That’s a weirdly specific question-”

SLAM!

I nearly leaped out of my skin as Phil rounded the doorframe and smacked his hand against the already-open door. “Hey, Techno, are you still practicing your… Oh! Wilbur! You’re up. And here. Good. I was planning on stopping by you and Tommy��s room next.”

Techno crossed the room to snatch up a few blankets resting on a chair. “What do you need, Phil?”

“I wanted to talk breakfast. I wasn’t going to make our guests help in the kitchen.” Phil’s eyes flicked to me. “At least, not this time.”

“I’ll help.” Technoblade spread the blankets out over the top of the drums with an apathetic look. Any hint of concern or amusement over what we were just discussing was gone. 

I wanted to prod him further, but Phil was looking at me again with those vast blue eyes. “Is Tommy up too?”

I shook my head. “No. He chose to take full advantage of the opportunity to sleep in this morning.” ‘Well, it shouldn’t take more than a half hour for me and Techno to throw something together. I’ve already started some of the prep work. Could you go wake him up and have him get ready?”

“Of course. That should be no problem at all.”

“You remember where the dining room is, right?”

I nodded. 

“Then I’ll see you both down there soon. We’ll have ourselves a nice breakfast.”

“That sounds nice,” I admitted. “It was nice hearing about your hobbies, Techno,” I said, turning back to him.

“I appreciate that. Maybe next time I could listen to you play guitar.”

Phil gave me a curious look. “You play guitar?”

“I do. Maybe I’ll play you both a sample of my music some other time.”

Phil flashed a brilliant smile. “Sounds like fun.”

On that note, I slipped past him and out into the hall. Phil waited until I had hobbled a few paces away before gently shutting the door behind them.

That had been a lot to take in all at once. I needed a moment. It took some effort, but I managed to maneuver the crutch so that I could sidle up against the wall. To my relief, it wasn’t slick. The stone was still perfectly dry. Not a spot of red in sight. I leaned my head back and closed my eyes. I just needed a moment to take a deep breath and remember how to get back to the guest rooms. 

That’s what I told myself, until Phil and Technoblade’s voices began to drift through the shut door.

“Thanks Phil.”

“Of course. It seemed like you two were getting along there.”

“Perhaps.”

“How are you feeling?”

There was a pause and a shuffle of fabric. “...better. But I also feel like I owe him an apology. Last night… It was an accident. I didn’t mean to let myself get out of hand like that.”

Huh. Curiosity kept me in place. I perked my ears up to listen.  ‘Out of hand’ was the last thing I would use to describe Technoblade.

“I know.”

“I think it happened again. Just now, when he knocked on my door-”

“I know.” Phil’s voice sounded tired. “You’re not used to having to hide like this. I’m not either, mate. If things were different, it wouldn’t have mattered and he wouldn’t have seen anything and I wouldn’t have had to step in just now. You wouldn’t have had to walk out last night.

“The kid’s fine, at least,” he continued. “But this… I didn’t expect it to happen so quickly. With that mark on his ankle, it’s only going to get more difficult. We’ll have to be careful.”

I looked down at my leg. It was still throbbing, and the angry purple bruise was clear in the dim firelight. Do what on purpose? And were they talking about me? They had to be. Who else would have a mark on their ankle?  I couldn’t imagine what that would have to do with anything. 

“They should have left as soon as you chased off those eggheads.”

“I don’t think that would have helped this time, Techno. Getting them out of here might have slowed down the process, but I saw the mark. This isn’t a case of our rowdy neighbors playing with their food. They were going to pull him into their domain. There’s no going back from that, and we stopped it before it could go any further. He’s floating adrift.”

I latched onto every word they spoke, no matter how little sense it made. They spoke as gravely as one might discuss a funeral. Even Technoblade, who up until now seemed barely capable of much when it came to inflection, spoke with words so heavy it sounded out of place in his voice.

They were talking about me. They had to be. I was somehow adrift, whatever that meant, and it was because of my ankle. I shifted it, pulling it ever so slightly closer to my other leg, and for a moment I could have sworn I saw blood dripping down the walls once more. When I blinked, though, everything looked fine.

Perfectly normal, even.

“Is he going to be able to go back?”

Phil didn’t answer for a moment, and my breath caught in my throat. 

“I don’t know,” he finally answered, and the breath I was holding came out sharply. “If not, then I have a contingency-”

“Phil.”

“It’s fine, Techno.”

“Are you sure that’s even an option?”

“What, you wanna try?”

Another pause.

“He’s the one who said the pen is mightier than the sword. He sounded more like a politician, Phil. Not to mention he just failed one of my inquiries. It would never work if it were me.”

“Then let’s not argue over this. We’ll both just have to reign it in. I’ll try to convince them to stay another night. By then we’ll know for sure. If we have to take care of him, then we will.”

“What about the kid? Tommy?”

“I don’t know. We’ll figure that part out once we’ve sorted out Wilbur.”

“I suppose I could make use of him in my domain if I absolutely had to. Seems bloodthirsty enough.”

“Let’s not talk like that. Keep your chin up, mate. A couple of old souls like us finally have some company out here. Maybe we can ask them about what the world’s been like for the past couple of decades.” 

“Alright. I’m done with the drums for today. How about the two of us make breakfast first, then we check in on those two?”

“Good, ‘cause I’m starving.”

They were coming. I couldn’t hear the footsteps behind the door but they sounded like the conversation was over. I was still eavesdropping right next to the door that they would be walking out of any second. My heart leaped in my chest and I bolted as fast as my injured leg would allow. The crutch tap tap tapped down the hall.

#mcythorrorgiftexchange #sbi fanfic #wilbur soot #technoblade #philza #tommyinnit #alternate universe modern setting #alternate universe monsters #gaslighting #first meeting #new friendships #horror #psychological horror #eldritch horror #mind control #questioning sanity #eggpire #bloodvines #the egg #hopefule ending #fanfic #mcyt fanfiction

[phoenixyfriend]

Boba Has a Crush (On Rex’s Boyfriend)

In which Boba's quest for vengeance is derailed by a very pretty man with a lightsaber and a taste for violence.

Read on AO3

Literally ten days late but at least it exists! For @rexwalkerweek:

August 6th: Christophsis Form VI: Balance, Restriction, Justice

--------------------------------

It’s… it’s so stupid, is the thing.

Boba’s planning his revenge. He is planning it, okay? He’s hanging out with cool older bounty hunters—not the ones his dad got on with, really, but Aurra found him before Kal or Mij did, and she seems okay—and setting up undercover work and learning code phrases and studying Jedi movements.

The Jedi are… nice to the clones. It’s weird. Sometimes, they get footage of a Jedi being nice to one of those clones that’s old and scarred enough that they look like Dad from a distance, and Boba’s stomach twists because he can almost imagine, for a moment…

But then the moment passes, and he just wants revenge again. Yeah, he wants to be pat on the head and hugged like the cadets he’s learning to mimic and blend in with on Kamino, but that’s not important. Avenging Dad is.

(Aurra and Cad don’t pat him on the head. They don’t hug him.)

(Every few days, he thinks about reaching out to Mij or Kal, but they wouldn’t let him seek revenge, so… after. He’ll reach out after.)

He looks into Kenobi for a while, trying to figure out if the man’s supposed familiarity with Mandalore would be something Boba could leverage. Dad had said the guy was annoying, but tolerable for a Jedi. Maybe Boba can manipulate him with that, somehow. Kenobi had an apprentice, right? So he was used to kids? Boba needs to learn more about this Skywalker guy.

Battle footage. Rex is in it, and Boba feels weird about that; he kind of remembers hanging out with Rex a few times, when he was young enough that Dad wouldn’t take him on missions, and he stayed behind with some of the clones. Rex had only been there because Boba had been left with Alpha-17 pretty regularly, and Rex followed around one of Alpha’s trainees, Cody, like a duckling.

Or at least, that was how Fox had described it. Boba hadn’t really known what a duck was.

Focus, he reminds himself. The Jedi. Skywalker. He needs to figure out the guy and see if there’s something he can use.

Good form. Violent and aggressive in a way the other Jedi don’t usually let show. Massive damage radius, holy kark.

Skywalker laughs atop a pile of decimated B-1s, and Boba feels his stomach turn.

Maybe. Maybe he can change the plan a bit. And slip into the Jedi’s unsuspecting Temple a different way.

--

Fives is the one that finds the kid.

His initial thought is that the transport that brought him and Echo back to the 501st after ARC training had gotten a cadet stowaway. Sure, the brat isn’t in uniform, but when there’s an obvious Fett clone, sized small, hiding in the rations cargo, and the transport from Kamino only landed three days ago, it feels like the obvious conclusion.

He holds the kid out at arm’s length by the back of the tunic. The kid hisses at him like a tooka. Fives shakes him appropriately.

“How the hell did you sneak past the minders?” Fives asks, head tilted.

“Fuck you.”

Yeah, that tracks. “Well, I guess I need to… get you back to Kamino? General Ti might want to up security.”

“I’m not from Kamino,” the kid scoffs, struggling as Fives grabs his hands as he tosses him over one shoulder; no reason to let the cadet have access to the weapons on Fives’ belt. “I mean, I grew up there, but I don’t belong there.”

“Yeah, no shit,” Fives snorts. “We all feel that way. Doesn’t mean you can just run off.”

“I’m not one of you,” the kid snaps.

“Sure, cadet.”

“I’m older than you!” the kid practically howls.

Fives pauses. He takes the kid off his shoulder. He examines the very angry small person.

“Boba?” he hazards.

“Ya think?”

(Continue on AO3)

#star wars #the clone wars #rexwalker #anakin skywalker #captain rex #boba fett #Fives #ARC Trooper Fives #Clone Trooper Fives #one-sided: #DarthFett #Ahsoka Tano #Commander Fox #Phoenix Files #Omega Fett

[sagecharacterstudies]

Aya, Why Fight When You’re Powerless?

“I can’t stop shaking. I don’t have anything. No special abilities, no knowledge, no strength. All I have is the determination I’ve built up over ten years, to never run away in this kind of crisis” (Aya, E56 - At the Port in the Sky (Part 2)). 

This quote in Bungo Stray Dogs showcases what is special about Aya. In supernatural and power fantasy media, it is easy to get lost in the strength and talents of our characters. They are challenged and fight with everything they have for their ideals. We root for them and are inspired to do our best by their successes. But… then we remember there isn’t anything special about us. 

Aya takes a unique spin on this as a powerless character. She is a character with little to no ability. We know she won a karate competition and is the fastest sprinter in class. She also demonstrates high resourcefulness and quick thinking, by blackmailing Kunikida into letting her come to investigate the bomb threat and hiding from Fukuchi. But all that is very down-to-earth talent and in a universe of powerful abilities and items (like the bullshit space-time sword), barely worth mentioning. 

In addition to lacking power and ability, she fails often. In the episode where we first meet her, “E25 - Walking Alone.” She is tricked into transporting a briefcase with a bomb, gets taken hostage, and is saved. She also makes many mistakes when we see her again at the airport arc. She is helpless as Jouno corners her. She leaves the flash on her phone camera. She gets cornered by the vampires before Kenji saves her. 

Doesn’t this seem like a weak hero? A failure?

No. When you look at how these failures happened, I don’t believe so. Why did she get tricked into carrying a bomb? She was going out of her way to help a stranger. Why does she get taken hostage and need saving? Because she wants to catch the person who tricked her. Journo only makes contact with her because he detects her desire to help the agency. The phone flash? That mistake is only made because she risks her life in the first place to prove the Armed Detective Agency’s innocence. And needing Kenji to save her? It only happens because she refuses to hand Bram back over. 

These are the reasons why Aya is a warrior of justice. She might not win and she might even make a situation worse. She constantly has terror or tears on her face. But she fights. She tries. She doesn’t stand still when something needs doing. She is brave and too stubborn to stop. That is what makes her a warrior of justice. 

She does all that because her determination is the only thing she has. Without it, she would only be the failure of a woman her father calls her. The one who can never live up to her dead sister.   

So I believe that’s Aya’s answer to the question, “Why Fight When You’re Powerless?” Fighting isn’t only about winning. We fight because if we don’t what else do we have? 

And sometimes those powerless do win. Like how Aya freed Bram through her determination. As Dazai says, “The ones that run the world are in fact, the ones who howl, run, and shed blood in incidental storms” (E50 - SKYFALL). That is how Aya shows us that fighting a hopeless battle is worth trying.

#character analysis #character study #bungou stray dogs #aya koda #analysis #character essay #bsd

[celestiall0tus]

Miraculous Absolution - Chapter 11 - Comfort

Beginning || Previous || Next

            Alix yawned and stepped out of her room. Fang stretched and followed her. Ondine finished setting up dinner when Alix joined her.

            “Evening, sleeping beauty,” Ondine teased.

            Alix grunted and flipped off Ondine.

            Ondine snickered and took her seat. Alix moved to take her seat when there was a knock on the door.

            “Huh? Were you expecting company?” Alix asked.

            Ondine shook her head.

            Alix hummed and answered the door. Her eyes widened seeing Luka.

            “Uh, hey, Alix? Having a nice evening?” Luka asked.

            “What the hell are you doing here?” Alix asked.

            “Oh, right. Juleka swung by earlier and borrowed Fang to fetch Luka,” Ondine said.

            “Ok, well, then why are you here? At my apartment?”

            “I was hoping I could borrow Fang.”

            “What? No. Papillon is about to cause trouble before long and I need to be out there. And if I’m lucky, I’ll see the cat.”

            “Please. I need to talk with Nette.”

            Alix pinched the bridge of her nose. “Yeah, right. Talk? At that time of night for her? Look, Luka, I know you miss Mari and you probably haven’t been touched in two years, but I’m not about to let you use Fang for damn booty calls.”

            Luka’s eyes widened and his face turned beet red. Ondine roared with laughter in the other room.

            “Look, I promise it isn’t like that. I just need to speak with her about something really important. Just give me thirty minutes, please.”

            Alix rolled her eyes. “Fine. Thirty minutes and you don’t make a habit of this.”

            “Deal!”

            “Fang!”

            Fang howled and teleported Luka to the Cheng estate. Luka froze in the darkness with Fang at his side.

            “Do you know where she is?” Luka whispered.

            “Transform and follow.”

            Luka transformed and followed Fang. He glanced around and saw infrared outlines of people in buildings all asleep. He glanced down at Fang who gave had an empty outline. He worked to piece together this vision as they neared a building with one person in it. His heart leapt as they entered the building and headed down the hall to a door.

            “Wait here,” Fang instructed.

            Luka waited until he heard a playful bark and a loud gasp. His breath caught hearing Marinette’s voice. He knocked on the door as Fang appeared halfway through the door.

            “You may come in now.”

            Marinette yawned as she reached for the light. “Are we starting earlier now?”

            Luka chuckled as he sat on the end of the bed. “Not exactly.”

            Marinette froze. “Luka? Luka, is that you?”

            Luka grinned as Marinette turned on the light. “The one and only, Nette.”

            Marinette threw her arms around Luka. “Oh, it’s so good to see you! Wait! What are you doing here?”

            “I might have made a little deal with Alix. Thirty minutes and not to make a habit of this.”

            Marinette smirked. “Dangerous deal. You now Alix never holds her end of the bargain.”

            “Well, I just need some time. I don’t want to keep you. Plus, Juleka told me about Xiu.”

            Marinette’s smile faded. “What did she say?”

            “Just that Xiu doesn’t approve of me and would rather you be with Chat Noir.”

            Marinette huffed. “I told her I wouldn’t do it. That I would rather see him beaten into the ground and face the justice of the people for everything he’s put us through.”

            Luka ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, Nette, I hate to say this, but I can’t have you doing that.”

            “What? Why?”

            “It’s based on what Juleka told you earlier. He needs help and I don’t mean as a hero. He needs a therapist.”

            “Then sit him down with Rose.”

            “I don’t think Rose would be able to help him. Rose has a more forward approach that won’t work with someone like Chat Noir. It’s why I’m here. I’m hoping to work on getting Chat Noir to open up.”

            Marinette opened her mouth but was cut off by Fang’s yelp. She and Luka looked over as Fang vanished in a blip of light.

            “Oh, crap! There’s no way it’s been thirty minutes. Hold on. Let me call Juleka.”

            Luka de-transformed and stepped out of the room.

            Marinette growled and crossed her arms. She didn’t want to help Chat Noir in any way or form. She wanted to see him pay for his failures as much as seeing Papillon strung up for his crimes. However, she recalled Juleka’s point of preventing another Papillon from being created. Was Chat Noir really that far gone to become Papillon? Surely there was no way. It had to take a special kind of monster to become Papillon and Chat Noir wasn’t anywhere near that.

            Marinette considered as she listened to Luka speak with Juleka. Perhaps she could convince him to stay here for a while. He wouldn’t need to be back for another couple of months to take the field. She didn’t think she could keep him here for the entire time, but maybe a month.

            “Sorry about that. Turns out Alix has already hit the field,” Luka announced as he entered the room.

            “I see. Well, knowing Alix, she’ll likely be out all night. So, why don’t we pick up this conversation in the morning?”

            Luka sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Might as well. I-.”

            “Perhaps you could stay for, I don’t know, say about a month?”

            “Nette, I don’t think I should. Chat Noir-.”

            “He’ll be fine. C’mon, he’s like any mangy stray you find around Paris. Besides, it has been two years since we’ve been together like this. Perhaps we can take this time to enjoy it? We don’t know what’ll happen once I get back, so why not now?”

            “I’m not sure. Juleka was worried. Plus, there is the matter of your grandmother.”

            “Oh, Xiu will, well, she won’t be fine with it, but it’s not like she can just send you away. After all, I want you here and I’m the ladybug now.”

            “I don’t know. Sass? What do you think? Will Chat Noir be ok?”

            Sass snorted. “He’s with the black cat. No one is ever ok in the hands of Plagg.”

            Tikki materialized and glared at Sass. “Excuse you, McSassy Britches. What’s wrong with my Plagg?”

            “Oh! Let me get my list. I’ve been saving it for a few eons now.”

            “C’mon, Plagg isn’t that bad. He’s got his good qualities.”

            Sass roared with laughter.

            Tikki glared at Sass.

            “Oh, wait, you were serious? Let me laugh harder then.”

            “Enough! Don’t make fun of my Plagg!” Tikki yelled.

            Tikki and Sass continued their back-and-forth. Luka frowned and scooped up the two kwamis.

            “Alright, enough yelling. Sass, please stop badmouthing this Plagg. Tikki, please let it go.”

            Tikki and Sass shot each other nasty glances, then turned away from the other. Luka handed Tikki to Marinette and then turned to Sass.

            “So, will Chat Noir be ok?”

            Sass shrugged. “Hard to say with you mortals. Maybe, maybe not.”

            Luka sighed. “Well, I’ll sleep on it. Alright, Nette?”

            “Of course! And we’ll make sure to talk about it. I promise.”

            “Thank you, Nette. So, when do you need to start your training for the day.”

            “Not for another two hours.”

            Luka smiled and snuggled Marinette. “Cuddle time?”

            Marinette kissed Luka. “Cuddle time.”

~~

            Lila stepped into Chloe’s room with a tray of food. “Curore mio, I brought you dinner.”

            Silence.

            Lila peeked over to the bed to see Chloe curled up in a tight ball. She placed the tray on the coffee table and approached the bed.

            “Chloe?”

            “What?” Chloe growled.

            “Are you still upset over that stupid cat?”

            Chloe glared at Lila. “Of course, I am! What do you think? My best friend just ditched me for no real reason. And I don’t know what I’m about to do without the team.”

            “Why not go solo like the cat?”

            “An idea, but what use am I on my own? My powers are only useful when I have others. I couldn’t accomplish anything on my own. I need a team to be part of.”

            “Why not join the Ladybug then?”

            A long silence.

            “I want to join your team,” Chloe admitted.

            “I don’t have a team. I’m not a hero.”

            “But you are a holder, Volpina.”

            Another long silence.

            “How long have you known?” Lila asked.

            “Over a year. A couple months after we started dating.”

            Lila laughed. “Was I really that bad at hiding it?”

            “Only when it came to me. I’m sure the boys were too stupid to realize why you would cave to Queen Bee.”

            “A blessing in disguise, but are you sure? It’s not as glamorous as being seen with Chat Noir.”

            “But the people believe in your efforts. You’ve kept them safe, at least to the best of your abilities. I bet you’ve even seen the real Papillon, haven’t you?”

            A pause. “I have.”

            “What’s he like?”

            “She is like a twisted, dark fairy.”

            “‘She’?” Chloe echoed.

            Lila nodded.

            Chloe’s jaw dropped as she worked through her annoyance and anger. “I wish you would have told us the truth. We’ve been chasing a man all this time. Perhaps we could have ended this sooner if we knew it was a woman.”

            Lila snorted. “Not likely. She is cunning and gives me a run for my money. Not to mention horribly ruthless. She hasn’t hesitated to cut down innocents just to get me to back off.”

            “You’re kidding. Please say you are.”

            “I wish I was. Take the Dupain-Cheng bakery. I encountered Papillon that night. I went to save the cops there, but she dodged me and killed the cops in the way I had told you guys.”

            “Shit. Well, there’s still hope. Let me help you. We can end this together.”

            Lila took a deep breath. “No.”

            “What? But I’m-!”

            “I know what you are. You are Queen Bee, the people’s hero. You are the one with Carapace that kept the people safe while cat chased glory. I do not doubt your abilities, but I will not see you face Papillon. I cannot best her, how will you?”

            “Well, what would you have me do then?”

            “Help the people out of the city.”

            “What?”

            “Look, we’ve been working on slowly evacuating the people the past month since… well, since I saw the ladybug earrings.”

            “You know who the ladybug is?”

            “I have an idea, but she’s not in the city. She’s out of the country. Training I believe.”

            “I see. But you’ve been able to get people out? And Papillon hasn’t noticed?”

            “Not yet. It takes extra time to oversee the evacuation efforts. Perhaps you could help me with that?”

            Chloe considered and nodded. “I will.”

            “Thank you. Eat up. We head out soon.”

            “Hey, Lila?”

            “Yes, mia regina?”

            Chloe kissed Lila and hugged her. “Thank you. Ti amo.”

            Lila smiled and hugged Chloe. “Io ti amo di più.”

            “Ti amo troppo.”

#miraculous #miraculous ladybug #miraculoustalesofladybugandcatnoir #au #alternate universe #miraculous au #mlb fanfic #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #lila rossi #chloe bourgeois #marinette dupain cheng #luka couffaine #lukanette #chlila #absolution au #absolution

[twilightmalachite]

2×2 - Children on the Streets 11

Author: Akira

Characters: Yuuta, Hinata, Shinobu, Nagisa

Translator: Mika Enstars

"I, I bet I got a stomach ulcer stemming from the stress of all of Aniki’s bullshit."

[Read on my blog for the best viewing experience with Oi~ssu ♪]

Season: Spring

Location: Back Alley in Downtown

Yuuta: Hm~… What’s the point of saying all this, Aniki?

Hinata: Hehe, just to tell you that you seem to feel inferior to me, Yuuta-kun, and that there’s no need for that. ♪

Apart from that, it’s to leave you wide open! Die, fool!

Yuuta: Ahh, shoot!! So you were talking all deep so you could catch me off guard?! Damnit~, shitty Aniki, how cowardly can you be!?

Hinata: Fuhaha~, howl, howl louder! It’s nothing but the bark of a losing dog!

Yuuta: Just what kind of character is this anyways!?

Hinata: I was thinking I need to look back a lot on my past, reevaluate it, and establish a new character for myself—

And not just as an indicator of how much Yuuta-kun has changed from what “we” were before. I have to establish my own character, too.

Otherwise, we’re just lacking something. As the two-in-one strongest and unbeatable individual, we were missing only the element of Yuuta-kun.

No, not that; we are going to get bigger and stronger!

Let’s show the world that we’re doing just that! My brother!

Yuuta: Right! I don’t get what you’re saying, but I know what you’re doing!

You’re talking about intriguing things like that again, waiting for me to lean in close to listen better, aren’t you!?

And then you’ll shoot me, right~? I’m not going to fall for that!

Hinata: Ahaha, not falling for it this time, huh~? See, Yuuta-kun? You’re learning and getting stronger and stronger! That’s why you’re my lifelong nemesis, fuhahaha! ☆

Yuuta: Seriously, what kind of character is this—

Hm?

Hinata: ? What’s up, Yuuta-kun? Is there trouble?

Yuuta: Urgh~… M-my stomach hurts.

I, I bet I got a stomach ulcer stemming from the stress of all of Aniki’s bullshit.

Hinata: Whaa!? A-Are you okay? I’m coming, Yuuta-kun~! Onii-chan will gently rub where it hurts!

Shinobu: Y-You mustn’t be fooled de gozaru, Hinata-kun! Although I did fall for the same! It’s possible that Yuuta-kun’s pretending to have a stomachache to make you worry and come out—

Yuuta: Oh come on, whose side are you on, Shinobu-kun?

Shinobu: H-Huh? But right now, I’ve turned into a zombie, which makes me Hinata-kun’s ally…!?

Yuuta: Right! But you are naive, did you think I simply would just mimic Aniki?

I’ve passed that point a long time ago, you know!

Shinobu: Huh? Huh? What do you mean by that…?

Yuuta: Ran-senpai! Now!

Nagisa: …Right. As everyone knows, this type of melee is Ran-senpai’s specialty.[1]

Shinobu: This is the first I’ve heard of that de goza-mphh! Uu, I’ve been shot in the face…!

It doesn’t hurt because it’s a water gun, but, my eyes! My eeeeyes~!

Nagisa: …S-Sorry? I’m shooting from a higher vantage point, so I’m at an angle where I can only aim for the head…

Heheh♪ You’ve got me de gozaru, but it is ninjas who are the expectations of sophistry in the first place! It is a common practice for us to deceive others, there is no such thing as bushido when it comes to ninjas…☆

Yaay! I’m properly acting like a ninja~! ♪

Hinata: Bakyuu~n! Bakyuu~n!

Nagisa: …Ah, h-he got me. I’ve been shot.

…I see. Shinobu-kun got me to lean out by making me worry.

Shinobu: Because there’s no other way for us to aim at you from our position, with you hidden somewhere so high up! ♪

Nagisa: …Right. Amazing. I’ve been beaten flawlessly.

…All the kids at ES are amazing. They are always learning and growing more and more.

Yuuta: However! We cannot allow justice to be defeated by evil! That would be a huge bummer for the program!

So, I’m gonna shoot and bring down Aniki who went after Ran-senpai!

This is game over, Hinata-kun!

This marks the end of this ridiculous game…!

[ ☆ ]

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Melee in Japanese is 乱戦 (ransen). It’s the same kanji used for Nagisa’s last name, too! (乱)

#2×2 #2x2 #yuuta aoi #hinata aoi #shinobu sengoku #nagisa ran #event #translation

[miriam-heddy]

The Daily Fail recently had an “UNRECOGNIZABLE” photo spread on Dwight Schultz. It’s pretty hilarious. I share because I care. I’m not including the photos, bc I don’t think actors should have to dress up in public, nor should they need a portrait on the attic. But check out the photo caption at the end. “Ladies man persona”? That’s Face, darling.

By RAVEN SAUNT, 18 May 2023 , Daily Mail

EXCLUSIVE: It's 'A' mystery! Actor who starred in beloved 1980s adventure series looks unrecognizable as he steps out 40 years later (despite still wearing his trademark black cap)... so do YOU know who he is?

This beloved actor looked completely unrecognizable as he stepped out 40 years after the iconic show premiered. The now 75-year-old was spotted picking up an array of cookery books in Los Angeles, California, last week. He kept it lowkey in a blue t-shirt and black jeans, finishing the ensemble with a jacket and baseball cap.

But can you guess who it is?

Schultz, who played Captain H.M. 'Howling Mad' Murdock, was spotted heading to his local Barnes and Noble to pick up a selection of recipe books. He spent around 35 minutes choosing his preferred titles before walking out with a bundle tucked under his arm. Schultz's collection included 'Carbohydrate and Fiber Counter' by Corinne T. Netzer, ‘Whole 30 Slow Cooker' by Melissa Hartwig Urban and 'Tasting History' by Max Miller- which accompanies the popular YouTube channel. He then hopped in his car and presumably headed home to wife Wendy Fulton.

His character had been quite the ladies man on the show - which was seemingly a far cry from Schultz's own life having married Wendy in 1983 - the same year that The A-Team first aired.

The popular action series, which ran for four years, followed a group of Vietnam veterans that had been framed for a crime they did not commit. They set out to clear their names by uncovering the black-ops conspiracy that set them up - while helping other innocents get justice along the way.

Schultz was one of the four former commandos-turned-mercenaries. His character, who was the team's aircraft pilot, was aided by John 'Hannibal' Smith (played by Peppard), Templeton 'Faceman' Peck (played by Benedict) and strongman, B.A. (Bad Attitude) Baracus (played by Mr. T).

After the series came to an end, Shultz also appeared in Star Trek: The Next Generation in the 1990s as engineer Reginald BarclayBut he soon set about forging a new path in the world of voice acting. He has since featured in a whole host of projects including video games, animated series and cartoon films - including 2020's Iron Man VR and 2017's edition of Crash Bandicoot.

Photo Caption:

Schultz, whose wedding ring glinted in the sunlight, has been married for 40 years - a far cry from his on screen ladies man persona

#hm murdock #dwight schultz #a team #facedock #face #trademark black cap #dirk benedict

[amourcheol]

before i reblog, i want to give you ALL the flowers in the world. i just finished reading the monster of a fic called the great war and YOU HAVE DONE IT AGAIN. there are no words that can amount to how much i adore this fic. i love lengthy word counts done right (god knows how much long fics i got excited over before them being disappointing or boring as a reader) and i, most importantly, love enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, historical aus done right !!

lets get this out of the way first GRRR WOOF WOOF WOOF BARK SNARK GRERR RAHH HOWL BARK BARK WOOF WOOF WOOF GENERAL SEUNGCHEOL VICTOR OF VENICE I NEED ABYSMALLY.

okay. now that i can safely get that out of my system, LOVE LOVE LOVEEE everything about this fic. theres something so sweet abt men being written unrealistically (aka respectful and honorable whattt??? out of this world tbh) im joking ,, but i did absolutely love how you made cheol so strongly standing for his wife. the slow burn that really did the tag justice (it BURNT), the ENEMIES TO LOVERS DONE RIGHT!?! LIKE YESSS !!! they actually did want to kill each other and the yelling and arguing leading up to the first kissing scene CHEFS KISS like that's literally the epitome of writing, like is it really an e2l if there isn't a intensely written argument before the first sign of intimacy!?!?

throughout reading this story, all i could think abt was how could i ever put into the words the justice you served. allowing reader to be a strong character yet so eloquently bringing to light the struggles she would still face from just being a woman, to seungcheol using his power to stand FOR her. an honorary mention of the "Careful." he would reply to the Councillor after the panicking scene from the Florence mention INCREDIBLE!! it gave everything and more!! the character development from both sides, venus and mars foreshadowing, the subtleties that only slow burn could provide. i genuinely wish i could give a way better review than this but unfortunately im still speechless due to how beautiful this story was so just pls take this dreary review and understand that im so so in love and i adore you so much for the amount of work you put out into this, from the visuals and the descriptions, the perfect build up, the amazing writing of e2l and reflections– just EVERYTHING. you created a masterpiece <3

brb literally pulling my hair out till I got scraps left .

IMNSORRY ):£3!3!3 IM GONAN SVREAM SHIT CRY ?:£3!3!3 THIS IS THE SWEETEST THING EVER ):&:!3! 😭😭😭😭😭 First of all UR SO RIGHT … I never find huge fics anywhere and if I do they’re just …: YAWN ‼️‼️ I’m so glad u love those tropes they’re my BIGGEST guilty pleasures 😭 tho I can’t even lie I don’t feel guilty at ALL for historical! Aus

FUCKCJFKDDJD STOP I SVREAMED can u tell that cheol as a military general haunts me at night … I fear I am able to write another 40k for him ..: but ur so right tho my biggest biggest swoon moments come from men dying and sacrificing themselves for their lovers and I just !!! Seungcheol would absolutely die for his wife and this information jumps me in my sleep paralysis FR .. I’m so so happy u agree w me about the hatred I NEED HATRED FOR E2L OR ITS NOT E2L !! and PLS another guilty pleasure is screaming in each others faces before eating each other up … i will not be held accountable …

STOP I COULD CRY ??? thank u for appreciating the little bits of the fic 😭😭💖 that scene was incredibly hard to write and I’m glad people like it so much !! PLEASE DONT WVEN APOLOGISE ??? This is more than I could ever ask for you are truly so kind 😞💖💖 thank you for taking the time to read and send this unbelievably sweet message may or may not be thinking about this for the next 700 business days 😍😍💖

#asks #hobistigma asks #the great war tings #u don’t even need to reblog after sending THIS . #thank u for this truly 😞💖💖 #nothing makes me happier than seeing people enjoy my fics #even more so when they felt something while reading my (horny) writings #also thank u again cheol u are the reason i got brainrot this Intense . #user hobistigma permission to kiss u thru the phone … #i Hope ur pillow is warm ur grades are sky high ur skin is clear #💖💖💖💖

[cranberrybogmummy]

Actual Werewolves of London

[SO this is meant to be written as an excerpt from a fake non-fiction book set in a paranormal/urban fantasy universe a bit like the one in an audio drama idea I'm working on called Strangectady. Maybe it's expanded universe content? Also the song werewolves of LONDON came up on my playlist, it’s inspired by that and the prompt: Everyone is fun; you just have to find their fun side.] 

    I knew Graham L as a very polite and well put together man, he was also very mild mannered. His job however was strange, he worked at the lycanthropy justice center in London.

“So how did you get a job there?” I asked.

“Erm, well,” He hesitated and cleared his throat. “I am a werewolf.”

“I don’t mean to be prejudiced,” I remarked, knowing what I was about to say was the most problematic thing I could say. “but you don’t exactly look like one.”

He smiled slightly. “Yes, I am aware that most don’t think of a thin middle class man in a three piece suit with wire rim spectacles as a werewolf, but I am. It’s genetic, you understand. I am a descendant of one of the oldest lycanthrope families in England.”

“Ah,” I realized my mistake and felt awful. “Yes.”

Over the next weeks  I became so engrossed with my other lycanthrope subjects, I sort of lost track of Graham. He usually was doing admin for his job or dealing with clients and their more colorful problems. I never saw him get angry and he only slightly raised his voice with a Tory MP who was proposing a shockingly racist bill about lycanthropes.

Maybe because the bill was gaining traction, he agreed to meet and talk over drinks. He looked stressed and unhappy when we went to the pub, and didn’t talk much, just drank and seemed to sink deeper into despair.

“How can I convince people that we aren’t uncontrollable monsters?” He sighed. “I can’t, they won’t even listen. I need a smoke.”

He’d had a few gin and tonics, I didn’t even know he smoked. I paid the tab and we left.

It was raining and dark as we stepped out of the pub. He lit up shortly after and smoked sullenly in the rain. Sadly we weren’t the only ones: in a nearby park some young men had been drinking and were yelling about something at the bus stop.

When we saw what they were doing, Graham sighed again and took a draw on his cigarette. There was an old woman in a headscarf with what I think was her young grandson. The assholes were calling her  racist names. She and her grandson were cowering in fear.

That’s when Graham smirked: “I know you think I’m no fun, but I have my own kind of fun. Let me show you.”

He took off his blazer, loosened his tie and walked over to them.

I stood there stunned.

“Excuse me,” he said. “I think you should leave them alone.”

“Yeah?” said the leader. “What you gonna do about it, faggot?” 

He stood between the old woman and her tormentors.

That’s when I heard him start to growl and the sounds of fabric ripping.  His transformation happened quickly. He grew two feet taller, and as he did so his muscles seemed to bulge out. Where a man had stood was now a growling, snarling, hairy werewolf over six feet tall. The terror on their faces was priceless.

“Leave them alone,” he snarled, his voice now deep and gruff.

He then threw his head back and emitted a long, loud, blood-chilling howl. The drunks  scattered, running into the park, and he gave chase, baying in the dark, hot on their heels.

I didn’t follow him. The old woman was still standing there shocked. Her grandson was smiling.

“He saved us, Nan,” He said. “He’s just like uncle Valko.”

As their  bus arrived, the old woman smiled back at him and ruffled his hair. “Yes, let’s go home.”

As the bus departed, I could hear howling and some screams from the park, but I couldn’t see anything because it was too dark. 

When I met with him the next week, he said he didn’t recall anything that had happened after his last drink, but I could swear he said it with a slight smile.

I said I didn’t remember anything happening either.

#werewolves #writing #my writing #low fantasy #tw: homophobic slur #tw: racism #Strangectady

[anorlondoarcheryclub]

@yellowfingcr

Heysel knows this place. 

She likes to think so, at least. More than once she’s ended up here, caught between the tectonic shifts of time, one second earlier on the prowl between the Farron thickets, one second later among different leaves under her boot, branches over her head. This somewhere so recalls her home but is not it. It’s like a childhood memory of it, the vibrant bright-colored ones blurred with age but still close to the heart, though it’s easier to call forth that vibrancy when Farron did use to be a place of beauty and green and life. 

She knows the name of this somewhere, too: Darkroot Garden. But she can’t say she knows well where she’s going, on the other side, and so boldly she moves forward, across stone and glade, until the surface of a lake, still as velvet, presents itself before her. 

And, waiting on top of an elevated part of the mossy terrain, a familiar face.

This person she’s seen before, she’s sure. Draped in Blade blue, called to punish, as Blades do- but she recalls them specifically for their exceptionally rare trait of courtesy. She has struck them with her pick, burnt them with her spells, and yet whenever it was their turn to prevail they never did so with sadistic glee or self-righteous malice. Darkmoon Blades have set their heels upon her head as they cut through the cloth of her hat to reach the ears; have boasted upon her corpse; have done all she does to her victims, with the insufferable idea that they, somehow, were performing an act of grand justice. Well, not them.

“Me indeed! I am she,” she says with a theatrical deep bow, her crown tilting down. Her dominant hand veers towards the pick at her side. From where they stand, they possess territorial advantage; her best hope would be launching spells at them. “I remember you! You’ll forgive me if I can’t quite remember your name. It started with I, right? Puckish sort that I am, I’ve been hunted by quite a lot of Blades. All that bright cerulean tends to mix a little together. We don’t even speak of the effects of my many concussions.”

No bite in her words. Not exactly amiability, either, despite the humor.

“Look. I’m not invading,” she continues. “If you want to strike, do so! But I’m not here to kill. Surprising! I know! I’m just lost in time for a moment. You know how it can be. Time and its twisting paths. Today, before you, I’m just a scholar. A nice xanthous scholar, taking a nice stroll until I’m returned home. Now the question is- given that unless I’m somehow mistaken you’re not all glowing blue as well… who are you, today?”

She fervently hoped they, too, were someone nice, today before her. If those occasional fights with them have taught her something is that they might have been courteous, but they absolutely weren’t someone to trifle with.

"Ah. So you are." Guarded, the Blade sweeps a bow in return, over one extended arm. They step down - sideways, not taking an eye off the yellow-clad figure. Despite the cheery color, she is not one to take lightly. So thin, the things that keep hostilities from springing forth then and there - the flutter of yellow fabric, and the tired want of peace.

Her questions ring sincere. Puckish sort - that's a word for a dedicated and skillful invader, whose name has been howled in indignation and gasped in final breaths, all in hearing of the Darkmoon, all translated into a deep-dyed entry in the Book of the Guilty. None of that makes their hands any less bloody than hers. None of it is even relevant at the moment. Now, the only thing the Blade hears is a request for mercy.

"No, I'll not strike you now." Not when there is no reason to do so. "Found yourself out of time and place?" No pity, but curiosity; no real expectation of an answer can be found in the words. The voice is slower than hers, words carefully formed - but precise. "My name is Ifsahan. But that's not what you asked, is it?" Who are you today? "Today I am a weary parishioner, here to walk the shady paths and admire the waters." The low voice eases, some, an offering of peace. "This is one of my favorite places." "Pray tell, what does a xanthous scholar study?" Her order, if order it is, is unfamiliar.

#dark souls rp #paladin unconsecrated [ifsahan ic] #ifsahan #yellowfingcr