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chuuyrr · 5 months

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⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ SANTA DOESN'T KNOW YOU LIKE I DO — DAZAI OSAMU ₊˚⊹ ᰔ

𐙚₊ CW(s): f! reader, exes to lovers, angst to fluff/comfort, christmas/holiday setting, he still calls you pet names like baby, love, and sweetheart

𐙚₊˚⊹ SYNOPSIS: underneath the twinkling christmas lights, you and osamu embrace the promise of a love rekindled

𐙚₊ NOW PLAYING: santa doesn't know you like i do by sabrina carpenter && new years day by taylor swift ᝰ.ᐟ

in the heart of yokohama, where the winter winds whispered secrets and the city adorned itself in festive lights, you find yourself wandering around in a deep sigh, clutching yourself with your coat adorning you.

the city exuded warmth, and the scent of roasted chestnuts, gingerbread, and an open fire from christmas markets and stores mingled with the laughter of children and adults enjoying the holidays.

as you strolled through the festive scene, you couldn't escape the echoes of your shared past with dazai.

you then stop in front of a familiar bar which was decorated with bright christmas lights and wreaths, and at that moment, you find yourself lost in a sea of memories, reminiscing about the shared moments with osamu, before the inevitable drift that led to your breakup.

among those recollections, two particular scenes painted themselves vividly in your mind, haunting yet bittersweet.

one memory that lingered like a gentle melody was the night you and osamu ventured into the same dimly lit bar, saying that you two deserve a treat.

the air hummed with the soulful tunes of saxophones and pianos as you two nestled into a corner booth. the ambient glow cast a warm aura, reflecting in dazai's brown sugar eyes as you and him clinked glasses of your high-ball whiskeys, toasting to the beauty of the night.

your laughter resonated with the rhythm of the music, creating a symphony of shared joy. osamu, with his enigmatic smile, leaned in to whisper secrets that only you could understand amidst the jazz-infused atmosphere.

it was a night where time seemed to suspend, and your connection deepened through the language of music, laughter, and stories which lead to a shared kiss that became your first.

another memory that tugged at the corners of your heart was the night you spent at osamu's apartment. the air was thick with familiarity as you found solace in the haven he had crafted, even if it was quite empty and rather mininalist, considering how he didn't have much.

either way, you and osamu talked about everything and nothing, the conversation weaving effortlessly between trivialities and profound truths—some even about his day at work, how annoying working on reports was. you even find yourself dancing with him around his kitchen in the middle of the night.

as that night unfolded, osamu's clothes became a comforting embrace, wrapping you in the scent of familiarity. wearing his oversized shirt, you found a sense of closeness, a tangible reminder of the intimacy you once shared.

the cityscape outside his window faded into the background as you and him reveled in the simplicity of being together in his futon, you in his warm embrace, head tucked beneath his chin as you lay on his chest, and he hummed a peacefully melody with his fingers running through your hair to lull you.

the quiet hum of his apartment became a sanctuary in those stolen hours, and even he thought it became a place he could call home when it was previously simply a scarcely filled space, and now it felt more than that. that is, until the fall arrived.

it was a night where the barriers between you and him melted away, leaving only the echoes of whispered confessions of "i love yous" and sweet nothings, along with the soft rustle of borrowed clothes.

now, you stand alone with the weight of these memories, you couldn't help but wonder if those moments were fragments of a love that had slipped through your fingers.

the bar and the borrowed clothes became artifacts of a time when you and osamu reveled in the magic of each other's company, a magic that time, circumstances, and perhaps your own choices had dimmed.

and still, you held onto those memories, recognizing them as delicate fragments of a past that was, in its own way, a testament to the beauty of what you two once had.

the air was crisp, and the city bustled with the festive energy of the holiday season, and you were about to turn away from the bar only to walk and bump into a familiar figure.

there, in the midst of the bustling crowd, stood dazai, and time seemed to freeze for an instant as your eyes met his ever same, warm brown sugar eyes, and the weight of unspoken words lingered in the air—a moment suspended in the delicate dance between past and present.

"osamu," you murmur softly, the name escaping your lips almost as a reflex. his gaze, once distant, softened with a recognition that mirrored your own.

a tentative smile played on his lips, a silent acknowledgment of the shared history that bounds you both, "hey, fancy meeting you here," he remarks, his voice carrying the hint of a memory you both couldn't escape.

as the crowd flowed around you and dazai, you find yourself standing in a pocket of stillness, a space where the weight of your past lingered.

"what are you doing out here? looking for presents, dear?" dazai strikes a conversation, but you can tell he seemed to be trying to hold himself back. you can tell he was very much ecstatic to see you again despite before.

"no, i was just going for a walk," you respond, rubbing your arm as you blink softly at him.

"just going for a walk this holiday, huh?" he narrows his eyes, a small chuckle escaping his breath, and his gaze soon draws towards the bar where you two would go for a drink, dine, and date.

like a canvas of unread stories, his eyes then hold, a mix of emotions, "funny how memories have a way of catching up with us," he replies, his gaze tracing the invisible threads that connected your past to this chance encounter.

"you know, sometimes, i do wonder if our memories are trying to tell us something," dazai muses, his words resonating with a quiet introspection as you two stood there, grappling with the unspoken question of what these chance encounters meant.

dazai's eyes, once filled with the mischievous sparkle that characterized him, now furrows in a subtle frown as he observed your quiet and somewhat awkward demeanor. the cheerful and festive background chatter of the city around you seemed to fade, leaving only the palpable tension between you and him.

"so," dazai began, a playful lilt in his voice as if attempting to break the uneasy silence, "you've become the epitome of quiet contemplation, i see. is this a new tactic to throw off my deductive skills?" his words were accompanied by a teasing smile, a familiar attempt to coax you into banter.

however, your response remained trapped in the awkwardness that seemed to have enveloped you. reminiscing memories had resurrected emotions that you struggled to articulate, and the weight of unspoken words hung in the air.

his playful demeanor faded slightly, replaced by a genuine concern mirrored in the subtle downturn of his lips. "heh, you're usually more... animated," he mutters, his gaze searching for clues in the quietness that now defined you.

"i guess i've changed, dazai," you mumble, attempting to offer an explanation for the unspoken shift in your dynamic. the words, however, felt inadequate, like leaves carried away by the wind before they could settle.

dazai's eyebrows knit together in a mild frustration, especially when you no longer address him as such, "change, my love, is a curious thing. but this quiet version of you doesn't quite suit the narrative i had in mind," he teases, yet the tease carried an undercurrent of genuine curiosity.

as he continued to speak, the air between you two seemed to thicken with unspoken tension. his attempts at light banter fell against the backdrop of my quiet contemplation, creating a dissonance that neither of you anticipated.

a sigh escapes him, a subtle acknowledgment of the unforeseen awkwardness, "i thought we could maybe reminisce and laugh about old times, but it seems like i've stumbled upon a different scene altogether," his frown deepening.

in that moment, the vulnerability beneath dazai's usual charm became apparent. the frown on his face reflected not just confusion but a genuine longing for the familiarity, the connection that once flowed effortlessly between the two of you.

"hey, since we're already in front of the bar we used to frequent, do you mind sharing a drink with me tonight?" he asked, his tone carrying a mix of nostalgia and vulnerability.

your eyes widen a bit in shock. you know you shouldn't, but it just feels so right to say,

"no, i don't mind at all."

memories of laughter, music, and stolen glances resurfaced, painting a vivid scene against the backdrop of the night in the bar of cozy glow of christmas lights and laughter and merriment, yet the weight of those moments hanging in the air.

dazai's gaze became more introspective, his words chosen with care as the two of you sat together by the bar on the cushioned stools with your usual high-ball whiskeys.

"you know, i've been doing a lot of thinking lately, about us and everything that happened," he starts quietly after taking a sip from his drink, "there are words left unsaid, and i think it's time to address them."

as dazai spoke, a rare sincerity colored his voice, unraveling the layers of complexity that often shrouded his emotions, and the night now became a stage for a conversation that held the potential for healing.

"i suppose so," you say back quietly as you swirl your drink around, holding it by the rim and making the ice cube clink against the glass.

you turn to look at dazai, and you see him a take a deep breath as he places his hands in the pocket of his sandy brown coat.

"i want to say sorry," dazai continues, his eyes searching yours for a reaction, "sorry for the moments i let slip away, for the words i said and didn't say, and for the distance that grew between us, and i never meant for it to end like that.."

the rare vulnerability in his admission hung in the air, a bridge between the past and the present. the ambiance of the bar now stood witness to a moment of genuine confession.

"and i miss you," dazai confesses, his gaze never leaving yours, and you can hear the sincerity in his voice, "i miss the laughter, the shared silences, and the way you understood the chaos within me, and if i can be completely honest, i still love you."

the weight of those words settled in the air, carrying with them the echoes of a love that had weathered storms and yet lingered in the recesses of the past. the quietness between you two even seemed to amplify the significance of the moment, as if the universe itself conspired to create a space for the honesty that had long been overdue.

your heart, a mosaic of emotions, responded to his words, caught between the scars of the past and the possibility of a future rewritten.

you, too, couldn't deny the resonance between you and him, "i guess, christmas has a way of making even the coldest hearts nostalgic," you say in a quiet giggle, your gaze meeting his.

the chilly night seemed to warm however.

"i'm sorry too. i'm sorry for giving up on us," you sigh, taking sip of your drink for liquid courage as the unspoken words became spoken now, "i just, it felt like there was no other way, and that this is for the best for us, osamu."

"you called me osamu again," a smile now tugs on his lips, his eyes lighting up with hope.

"oh, shut up," a smile, too, breaks on your face but you sigh softly once more as you look at him once more, "but i mean every word, osamu."

"i know you do, sweetheart," dazai says with a nod before he raises his glass to you.

"yeah," you hum softly as your raise the glass in return to his, toasting to him.

amidst the snowflakes and the soft glow of christmas lights outside, dazai and you find yourselves in the midst of an unexpected reunion, the chilly air echoed with warm memories, and beneath the twinkling stars.

this festive season really had a peculiar way of unraveling emotions, and as you crossed paths with dazai and it was evident that the connection between you two was more than a mere coincidence.

after a heartfelt conversation of unspoken words between you two with a few drinks at the bar, dazai offered to take you back to your place since it was quite late despite the holidays.

however, in a quiet corner just near your place, away from the laughter and merriment, dazai's eyes met yours as he walked right by your side.

"what is it?" you ask, looking up at him.

a subtle smirk plays on his lips as he pauses his tracks, and so do you, "you know, santa doesn't know you like i do."

it was a statement layered with memories of shared secrets and intimate moments.

as you exchanged glances, the familiarity of your history danced between you two, like a delicate snowfall. you genuinely smile nonetheless at his words, "maybe we've been on the naughty list for too long," you teased, a hint of nostalgia in your voice.

dazai took a step closer, his hand reaching for yours, "and santa may not understand us, but perhaps we can rewrite our story," he suggests, his gaze holding a sincerity that transcended the mask of indifference he often wore, "yeah?"

surrounded by the symphony of the season, you can't help but feel a little emotional as a genuine smile tugs on your lips as you nod and whisper, "yeah."

the clock struck midnight, time reaches its crescendo, and the world around you both seemed to pause in reverence to the magic of christmas, and just like that, coincidentally beneath the mistletoe that was hanging on the street light, his arms wrap around you and pulls you to him.

dazai's lips then meets yours in a kiss that spoke in volumes—a reunion of past and present, a bridge between shared memories and the promise of a love rediscovered.

as you two pull away, breathless, the quiet acknowledgment between you two lingered in the cold air of christmas eve. snow falls as he leans in again, and dazai holds you in his embrace like he always does.

"merry christmas, my sweet girl. i love you," dazai softly whispers in your ear before planting a kiss on your cheek this time around.

𐙚₊ A.N.: advanced merry christmas from yours truly my lovelies ヾ( ˃ᴗ˂ )◞ • *✰ hope ya'll enjoy this christmas dazai fic i cooked in the kitchen—this is also my first time writing an exes to lovers fic, especially with dazai, so yeah !!

𐙚₊ TAGGING: @anqelically (here's ur food <3), && @dazaiyohane @lovedazai @osaemu (my dazai lover moots too ofc hehe, i think you guys will like this- ∩ ⸝⸝ ∩ )

#dazai x reader #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #dazai osamu x reader #dazai fluff #dazai fanfic #bsd imagines #bsd fluff #bsd dazai #bsd x you #bsd x y/n #bsd scenarios #dazai x fem reader #dazai x you #dazai x y/n

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meshlasolus · 3 months

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The Winner Takes It All

Episode 9

Pairing: Finnick Odair x Tribute(OC)!Reader

Chapter Warnings: literally death, violence, hunger games typical trauma, Finnick being a worried mess from outside the arena. It's all chaos, all of it.

Chapter Summary: Allies having your back means nothing if the capitol citizens don't want you to win. A lack of sponsors can easily be a death sentence... but maybe living through the hunger games could be a worse one.

Word Count: 3.6k

I have written these all like several months ago so watching the reactions to them and rereading along is becoming such a fun experience for me... except when y'all are mad bc that's not fun... but it kinda is lmaoo (also yw for the double update i figured i was slacking)

You looked down at your upper arm and side. That panther would have killed you if he had pounced on your neck instead of your arms. Funny, you thought the Capitol mutts were supposed to kill on sight, not play with their food. “Are we sure this is a good idea?” Rodey was hesitant. With the craze of these games, he wasn’t fond of inviting unwanted company. Who knows when someone will simply snap and turn on you?

Finnick had overslept. He didn’t mean to, and he definitely didn’t want to… but he’d been going for two days without sleep, and basically on nothing but glasses of overpriced Capitol booze.

Mags woke him up, shaking his shoulders and trying to flip him over on the couch he’d passed out on. She had been trying to keep watch of him, and the tributes on the screen for that matter, but didn’t want to jolt him awake unless something bad was happening, and it was indeed happening.

“Mags?” His hazy morning grogginess made him forget for a moment, but as soon as he saw her pointing at the lounge room screen, he sat straight up. “What happened?”

You were running, Lukas and Rodey, too. The camera angles were changing too fast to see what was behind you. Was it other tributes? Was it a wild animal? Was it a poisonous substance created for the games?

He was trying to make out what it was before he heard a cannon. You and Lukas and Rodey were still fast on your feet, so he wasn’t nervous yet, but when he heard a growl from a closer distance, his stomach dropped.

A panther had begun gaining ground, leaping over a rock formation and cutting you off at the front of the pack. You slowed to a stop before plowing straight into the animal, holding your hands out to the others that they might remain still.

That’s when he saw you, still and in frame. You were covered in blood. It looked like your own. You had several injuries that needed tending to. He resented the night’s sleep he’d just gotten, given that it had put your life in danger. There wasn’t anything he could do to stop events from occurring, but he still blamed himself. He hadn’t been watching, hadn’t been ready.

Your expression was worried, your eyes looked full of tears that you refused to let go… but you stance was firm, and you were unmoving. Against your fear and anxiousness, you held your ground, staring down the animal as it circled you all.

He wondered what you could possibly be thinking, but it left his mind immediately when the Panther jumped straight on to attack you and the others.

When Lukas stirred into consciousness, he could hear conversation echoing through the mouth of the cave. Freeda and Copelin were still inside, sharpening wooden spikes with the knives from their packs. He turned a saw that you were nowhere to be found, and neither was Rodey.

Lukas wasn’t suspicious often, but he didn’t like Rodey. He felt that the boy’s intentions toward you were unfair and purely obnoxious. He knew what the odds of either of you winning were, and he hated the idea that if you won, you would be losing more than just a friend.

He sprung to his feet in no time, lunging for the edge of the cave to see what you both had been up to.

When he stepped into the light of the dimly lit forest, he could hear your laughter, it was bright and cheerful, and he was somewhat thankful to have ever heard it again. He didn’t think that the arena was a place to have a laugh, but then again, the training center didn’t seem like the place either, and he’d found it to be quite fun. Those are the perks of being from a career district, he guessed.

“Top of the mornin’, to ya,” Rodey nodded to him with a slanted smile, knowing that as long as he acted like nothing had changed, Lukas wouldn’t be able to say anything in front of you.

Rodey thought he’d make it easy on everyone and just stay as close to you as possible. What he didn’t know was that Lukas didn’t play by everyone else’s rules. He marched to the beat of a different drum and all that.

“What are you guys talking about?”

It was nonchalant, and you didn’t detect the annoyance in his tone.

“N-nothing much. Just that Rodey d-oesn’t mind my stutter all that m-much,” you repeated, your smile widening every time you heard or got to repeat the words.

Rodey was the only guy in years who’d ever even listened to you tell him things after he heard the way you spoke. Finnick excluded, because as mentor he has a specific duty to you, anyways.

“I actually think it’s really cute,” he turned to look down at where you sat on a log, his hair falling over his eyes just a bit.

You thought he was adorable. He said all the right things, listened to you when you spoke, and you couldn’t deny the fact that he was cute as hell. Steely blue eyes, wispy blonde hair, and dimples at the side of his smile. You think back to the comments made about you being the ‘most beautiful tribute’ and you can’t justify that. Maybe you’re only attracted to him because of his kindness towards you… but after another glance in his direction, you know that can’t be true.

“What did I tell you last night?” Lukas leaned into Rodey’s face, separating him from your view. You furrowed your brow and tried to lean around Lukas to hear what was being said, finally opting to stand as a last resort.

“What’s g-going on?”

And then you all were stuck to your spot, heads turning quickly at the growling sound that just bellowed out of the cave.

You started to run for the edge of it, yelling at the top of your lungs.

“Freeda? C-Copelin?”

And then two screams, and two sounds of the cannon.

You quickly turned back around, but it was too late.

A large animal with a midnight color coat had pounced on you, pinning you to the ground while it tried to reach you with it’s mouth. You held your arms out before you to try and hold it off, but it’s claws dug into your shoulder and your side, opening the skin and letting lines of blood flow freely.

You didn’t have to hold it off long, because a knife was thrown at the beast’s front leg, knocking it off of you and making it retreat into itself at its fresh wound.

Rodey and Lukas pulled you to your feet, rushing you away from the animal and into the forest. You were pushed to the front, but you didn’t know how fast you could run, and for how long, especially without losing too much blood.

You’d already tripped on several vines that were crawling about grounds, nearly crashing into branches or trees the next moment. You tried to remember which way the cornucopia was, because if you all had any chance of defeating a panther of that size, you would need to get back to the main weapon supply. Other tributes be damned, you needed more weapons. More supplies. More anything.

You turned a corner at a particular rock formation, hearing a loud scream in the distance, and then another cannonfire. That cannot be good. That scream was far too close to comfort.

You tried to round a tree before the sound of growling increased behind you, and within an instant, the panther had caught up, running over and jumping off of the rock formation to cut you off. You had nowhere to go from here, and it didn’t look good.

You thought to yourself for a moment, this is another chance. A chance to die, without any tribute bearing your blood on their hands. That’s what you’d been hoping for, right? A death that contained no contact with any other person in this arena. You could throw yourself at it, let it feast upon you so Rodey and Lukas could escape. They are the tributes you’d bet on, you might as well give them a head start.

You stood your ground, holding your arms out to the side and turning along as the panther circled you all, the growling sounds never ceasing, only growing stronger as it smells the scene of your blood dripping off your skin.

How full of fear you were, you did not know. You could not measure it in comparison to anything else. You just knew you felt like crying, but held back on the account of anything happening yet. You had to think. Obviously if you told them to leave you, they wouldn’t. You needed to try and distract the animal, draw it in but away from them.

You looked at its eyes, another jolt of fear raking your body before it leapt into the air…

… and fell dead in front of you, an ax between its eyes as it lay in the ground, mouth still hung open.

You looked up and behind you, your eyes wide and mouth open in shock, harsh, ragged breaths falling from your lips for all the running that ensued.

Rodey quickly stepped in front of you, drawing the last knife he had from his pocket.

“Who’s there?” He shouted into the foggy air, facing the rock structure that the ax came from. You all waited in anticipation, and finally the girl from seven climbed up and over the rocks, showing herself with her hands in the air.

You stepped around the boy before you, pushing down his arm to keep him from throwing the knife.

“Seven?” You asked, seeing the face of the girl you fought in training. She seemed to be relieved to see you, because you didn’t seem like the fighting type.

“I thought you guys could use the help,” she explained, lowering her arms and nodding towards the dead panther, which was slowly disintegrating into the ground. That’s the thing about the arena, hunting is hunting, and escaping is escaping. You didn’t hunt this animal, so the game makers weren’t going to let you keep it as food. It would be quickly ruined. “I need help, too.”

“You’re not our ally, how can we trust you?” Lukas asked, crossing his arms and stepping forward as well. It seemed to be a battle of distance, whoever could reach her first. You knew she wouldn’t harm you, hell, she had saved your life…

“I didn’t have to help you, you know,” she stumbled forward, and it was only then that you could see she was injured. Her side had a stab wound, which she held when her hands were again at her side. “I did it in good faith.”

“S-she’s not going to kill us.” Your statement didn’t even need to resonate, they understood that much just from looking at her, now.

“You’re careers, I assume you all have dibs on the cornucopia… I need supplies,” she let out, gesturing to the injury that everyone had clearly seen already. You raced forward to help her, but Lukas grabbed at your arm.

“I can shoulder her, you’re not looking too good either.”

“Are we sure this is a good idea?” Rodey was hesitant. With the craze of these games, he wasn’t fond of inviting unwanted company. Who knows when someone will simply snap and turn on you?

“We j-just lost two allies at once. I t-think we could use at l-least one more…” You trailed, your stutter becoming a bit worse when you were upset. There was no reason to protest. She saved your lives, without needing to. She could have just left the scene, saving herself and leaving you all to the panther… but she didn’t. And in a game like this, you couldn’t afford to pass up exchanges like the one she made.

Rodey nodded, a simple ‘okay’ falling from his mouth as he moved to help shoulder you. Once the adrenaline wore off, you felt the effects of the clawed wounds in your skin more severely. It burned like hell, and the blood was still oozing from your side.

You all walked north, towards the center of the arena and what you were hoping was the cornucopia. When you got there, you all ravaged through the supplies to find that someone had gotten here first. The food was here, the weapons (save for the ones you all took the day before) and the camping packs were all still available.

Lukas was the first one to jump to action, remembering the survival methods from training day that nobody else bothered to use. He began tearing into the thermal blankets, using one of the knives to cut strips from the cloth.

You were looking through the food to see if there was anything of comfort, or at least something that would sustain you a while. You found apples and bread rations, and took one of each, watching as Lukas helped tend to the girl from seven’s wounds. You’d found out her name was Lyra Thorne, and she was seventeen. She was reaped, just like you, and she had two younger sisters waiting for her at home. You hadn’t thought about your baby brother until now. You almost wish you hadn’t thought of him at all. It was too sad to think that you would never see him again. You’d have to talk to Lukas and ask him to take care of him when he went home. You’d been almost positive by now that he was going to win.

Just then you’d heard the cannon, and looked around you to see if there was anyone or anything in the distance… but nothing. It must have been further off.

Something you did see, however… a tiny parachute falling from the sky, directly towards where you were sitting. The group watched in silence as it basically fell in your lap. The small canister had an engraved ‘4’ on the front, with a little latch that could open and close.

Lukas nodded to you, and you carefully opened it up, pulling out the contents of the inside. It was a mini med pack, complete with medical ointment that could probably speed up the healing process rapidly.

There was a note on the inside, too. It read:

I’ve always hated cats… don’t let those scratches get infected. - F

You smiled, folding up the piece of paper and dropping it into one of your cargo pant compartments.

“We g-got a sponsor.”

The cannon sounded again after about five hours. You all had been staying close to the cornucopia. It was familiar territory, and for now, it was beneficial. The food between four people would run out after a day, but being safe was better than being sorry. You figured you’d weave some of those ropes together from the camping packs, help Lukas catch a fish or two the day after.

As long as you were staying alive, you wanted to give your best effort. You realized how foolish it was to be looking for ways to sacrifice yourself. What you saw this very morning was proof that the most qualified tributes could fall. As long as you kept playing the game your way… maybe you had a chance to outlast. You didn’t think you would win by any means… but these last few days being spent were a better alternative to immediate death.

When the sun went down that evening, you all made a fire. It was small, not for the concern of smoke, since you couldn’t see over the tree line from anywhere in the arena… mostly because it was hard to find dry wood anywhere. Lyra was very helpful with that, what with her being from the lumber district and all.

“You’re v-very good at this,” you told her, trying your best to copy her movements to start your own kindling. It wasn’t working barely at all, and she laughed at your valiant attempt.

“Here, I can help,” she quickly took the stick from your hands, her hand movements were fluid as she created enough friction to start a flame. “That should last us through the night, hopefully.”

“I find it f-funny how it’s so hot and h-humid during the day, but at night it’s freezing.”

“That’s the thing about humidity, the moisture can go either way. Take away the sun, the warmth goes with it.”

You giggled, looking over to her with a joking expression.

“I h-haven’t seen the sun since w-we got here,” you told her, gesturing up to the tall and wide trees, every branch above weaving into a canopy where no sky or show of sun could be seen through. Only the tiny traces of light that implicated they were still there.

“Tell me about it,” she paused, taking out of her pocket the tiny foil blanket that had been crumpled up into her pocket. “You know, I got so chilled last night that I had to have a sponsor send me one of these. It helped a little bit, but I was still still cold and stiff until the morning.”

“We huddled t-together in a cave and made a fire. We g-got lucky that the cave had an opening, o-otherwise, I’m not sure what we w-would have done.”

“Well, now that I’m here I can help you build a fire, wherever we end up.”

You smiled to her, reaching out to her hand and giving her a touch of gratification.

“I’m happy y-you’re here with us. The thought of being the sole p-person that keeps the t-two of them from butting h-heads was enough to k-kill me already.”

She smiled back to you, nodding her head in thanks. She was happy to have to all as allies. Perhaps she wouldn’t die as soon as she thought she would. She was after all a more experienced weaponist, but she didn’t know if that would be enough to defeat tributes of career stature. But you weren’t a career, and neither was Lukas. You both were different. You were kinder, gentler. Even though Lukas may seem a bit apprehensive at times, you always helped him see things your way. You looked for the brightside, even in this hell hole of an arena.

She liked that about you.

“I’m glad to be here.”

She was a very good addition to the little team you’d formed. Someone else that could bear the weight without doing it alone. Someone else to pitch in if supplies need be carried. Someone else that could be used as a human shield if you run into Estelle and the boy from eleven.

You shook that thought from your mind. It was simply intrusive, and you didn’t need to be thinking like that. Play the game your way, not theirs. Show your kindness, show your compassion, and never let them make you what you aren’t.

About an hour later, you looked up at the sky, watching for the tribute memorial to start… but it was taking too long. Rodey and Lukas were chatting away about some sort of swimming competition, which was good and all, but probably wouldn’t come to fruition. Lyra was passed out next to the fire, waiting for someone to wake her up to take the next watch. You, on the other hand, had done your fair share of speaking throughout the day. You didn’t want to keep it going in fear of wasting your words tomorrow.

You dug your hand into your pocket and fished out the note that Finnick had written. You smiled at the words on the paper, his humor and charm seeping in through even the worst of situations. You were just happy he was able to send some help. The medical treatment went a long way. There was enough not only for you but for Lyra, too. You figured that was the reason she was able to sleep so peacefully, even in the middle of the hunger games. She probably didn’t have a mentor like Finnick, someone who was so devoted to her well being that he would charge through hell or high water to see to it you were taken care of… to be fair, you didn’t think of Finnick as that sort of mentor either.

You think it changed the first night during swim lessons. No one had been able to get you into the water like that. Not even Lukas, who was the best swimmer you knew. He’d been so kind and encouraging, so uplifting and gentle. His patience for something so ridiculous had astounded you.

You closed your eyes, trying to picture those sea green eyes and the dimples of his dashing smile. His handsome features in the casted moonlight of your Capitol bedroom, painting him in such a soft glow. He’d delivered such bad news to you that night, the one before the games. If by some miracle you won, you’d be doomed to a life of sexual slavery… but part of you debates; it would be worth it to see Finnick Odair again. It would be worth it to wrap your arms around his shoulders one more time. It would be worth every unsatiated night just to look into those eyes, the crashing waves within them. The ocean brought you fear from a young age, but now you longed to see it again. To compare the color of his eyes and to see if the ocean could even hold up against them.

You fell asleep before the fallen tributes were projected, and hoped for the sake of your thoughts you would not become one of them… but deep down you knew better.

When the projection finally hit the sky, the fallen tributes were: The boy and girl from two, the boy from eight, the girl from nine, and the boy from twelve. There are now only seven tributes remaining.

tags(open): @thepassionatereader @i-voluntears @secretsicanthideanymore @mystargirl-interlude @c4ttheart @lilibrn

#finnick odair x oc #finnick imagine #finnick odair thg #thg finnick #finnick odair #finnick odair fluff #finnick x reader #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair x you #sam claflin x reader #sam claflin #katniss everdeen

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gammija · 1 year

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MAG127, Remains To Be Seen: "[...] as we got closer I could see that it was a single tree that was burning. A gnarled and ancient elm, that sat removed from the rest of the forest. A small crowd surrounded the spectacle. One man, who I took to be a groundskeeper, stood closer than the others, with a lit torch in his hand. [...]

... All that I could get from him was a sense of… resignation, and the insistence that his master, who I took to be Albrecht, wanted the tree dead. I’m sure that he used that word, though. Not burned, not removed, or destroyed. Dead. I resolved to ask Albrecht about it when I saw him."

...and then we never heard from it again. This tree still confuses me!! I can't connect it conclusively to anything else, but there's such an emphasis placed on it that it feels like it has to be important!

The motif of a big gnarly tree being burned echoes the tree at Hilltop Road, so even though there are no spiders, something about it feels Webby - as does the way Fanshawe mentions it, says he wants to ask Albrecht about it, and then seems to completely forget about it...

...that's a very weak connection at best, when there aren't any other indications that the Web is involved with the Von Closens at that time and place. So what else could it be? Fire could indicate the Desolation, but that has the same problem of not being mentioned otherwise, plus just burning down one (1) tree doesn't really seem like its style to do, unless this specific tree means something;

Trees and fire are also reminiscent of Gertrude's protection circle from s1, though, again, that's Web & Desolation duking it out. The tree at HTR also seemed to be connected to Agnes' death in some way, she died when it was cut down. Maybe this tree is also protecting someone, but who? why? how? Albrecht? That makes no sense, at the very least unless "the Master" is referring to someone else, but that really just opens more questions than it answers!

Maybe the tree is meant to signify another 'rift' between worlds, and it links up to the vague implication that maybe the Von Closens seemed to be unable to get children in s1, but evidently had them later on. And maybe the bastard prince actually came through from another dimension as well.... However, that's still a very big leap to take just from one odd tree and two 'mysteries' that aren't really mysteries and didn't really need solving in the first place

I'd be curious to know if this was a plot hook for future episodes which never materialized into something more, or if I'm just missing something here. anyone else have a solid theory? @a-mag-a-day

#tma meta #tma theory #i mean if it is the web it could just be the web scheming BUT #tma isn't a record of real events and basically any other web mention does 1 or both of 2 things:#clearly feed the fear of manipulation/spiders in some way #or further the grand plan to mark jon/someone; end the world; spread to other dimensions #this would be neither #but the tree gets two whole paragraphs to himself! why is he so important! why did he need to die!#tma s5 #tma #the magnus archives #mag127 #joos yaps #new v serious theory: the tree itself is an avatar. who says only animals can feel fear #this is meant to show that even plants can be evil #the web #the desolation #a mag a day

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ajlovesbuck · 8 months

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Mini fic time because I’m tired and the autism is autisming

(Gaz/alex)

~If Gaz and Alex were included in the countdown mission~

“Soap! It’s not gonna hold you need to jump down to the other shaft!” Gazs voice echoed, going down to soap. He watched as Soap jumped down the the other elevator shaft, falling through and stunning himself. He was facing Hassan now, with no weapon, just the missile controls.

“Fuck!” He yelled down, turning around to Alex. “He’s all alone down there, with Hassan.” He spoke, slightly panicked.

“Shit..” he watched Alex reach for his radio and call for Price. “Alex to Price- Soap has got the missile controls but is stuck 3 floors below us with no weapon and multiple armoured AQ guards.”

Just as price was about to talk into his radio, Soap spoke up. “I’ve got the missile controls, I’m hiding currently. What do i do?” He asked Laswell.

“This is watcher-1…” Gaz blocked out the rest and started thinking of ways he could assist Soap, pacing while also staying alert for any incoming AQ guards. Alex was listening intently, wishing on a star that Soap would make it out alive and with a detonated missile.

Gaz then heard some rummaging by the door and his head snapped up, his firearm close by his chest. “Alex- movement outside the door.” He said in a hushed tone, approaching the door slowly. He could hear men speaking in Arabic, barking orders at each other. “Copy.” The American confirmed.

They both waiting in cover outside the door until the weak piece of wood was knocked off its hinges. There’s was 5 armoured AQ guards which would probably take a lot of ammo and effort to take down. “Contact!” Gaz yelled, opening fire and aiming for the guards helmets. With an entire mag, he managed to take out one of them and weaken another. Alex was also shooting at them, but he had to be careful with the amount of ammo he was using because he was on his last mag. “Last mag!” Gaz yelled, finishing off his bullets before pulling out his knife.

The guards kept on shooting, but Gaz and Alex moved swiftly, taking out each guard.

The last two them took on Gaz and Alex. Alex was having a hand to hand combat fight while Gaz was fighting a knife away from his throat. “Piss off you bastard..” he said after dodging the knife for a fifth time. He kept on dodging until he was hit over the head, dazed slightly. “Fuck!” He yelled out, his vision blurring slightly and his head throbbing.

He felt a whoosh of wind pass by him, holding up his arms in Defense. He was pinned to the ground, wishing he could die any other way but this. He could imagine Alex winning his fight and looking over to see Gaz, with blood pooling around him and oozing out of his neck. And Gaz would never had told him how he felt.

He readied himself before feeling the weight pinning him down be tackled off, by alex. Gaz then slumped, letting out a breath that he didn’t know he was holding. Alex quickly took out the soldier before looking over at Gaz. “Hey, you good?” He said, his soft American accent ringing out. Gaz rubbed his head, feeling blood from being hit drip down his face slightly. “I’m good, you?” He asked, turning to Alex.

“Solid.”

Gaz then rolled over, kneeling. He then heard a loud bang come from outside the building and in the middle of the air. He looked up to see a mix of oranges and yellows hanging in the air beautifully. He did it. Soap did it.

A big smile spread across Gazs face, showing his natural small sharp fangs. He laughed out, relieved as he stared up at the sight.

Alex stared at gazs face, enamoured by his sheer beauty. The way the lights of the fire mixed perfectly with his skin and eyes, and lit up the best parts of his features. “It’s beautiful..” Gaz said, not taking his eyes off of the imploded missile. “Yeah, it is..” Alex spoke softly, looking at Gaz and not sparing a glance at the fire.

They stayed like that until they were broken from their trance, Gaz turning to see Alex already looking at him, his cheeks slightly red. They both were smiling, happy that this war was finally over. “I love you.. you know that?” Alex said, still with a small smile on his face.

Gaz pulled him into a strong hug, nuzzling his face into his neck. “Yeah..” He pulled away, meeting eyes with Alex again. “We did it. It’s over.” Relief melting from his face, a goofy grin plastered over it.

Alex then pulled him into a short, but meaningful kiss.

“It’s over.” Alex parroted.

#alex keller #gaz mw2 #gazalex #cod mw2 #mw19 #they are so cute #I LEGIT LOVE THEM SM #They need to marry each other.

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huffle-dork · 11 months

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Alt. Exe Corrupted Chapter 3

Previous chapter | Masterpost

Blitz is carefully licking his wounds in a darkly lit cellar. In front of him is a prisoner his master wanted him to watch. The tiger didn’t understand why but it gave him a chance to try to clean himself up.

Dr. Jameson Jackson watches the tiger with a mixed expression of terror and worry. He no longer had a voice- how was he supposed to warn Alt of the fate Magnificent had for him? He tried signing but… it’s like Alt had forgotten how to understand it.

Words weren’t working either- he tried to write on the semi soft ground of his cell but… he guesses being turned into a tiger also messes with your ability to read.

He has no idea what Magnificent has done to him… but he knows the boy hadn’t been here nearly as long as him. Maybe a little over a month… since Mag said he needed to wait for the next full moon. Jameson has lost count on how long he’s been here… but that doesn’t matter. Alt doesn’t deserve the fate Magnificent has planned for him. No one does.

He taps on the ground and tries to think of how to get a message to him… He starts to draw some figures on the ground before him- upside down so maybe Alt can understand them better.

The tiger is too busy licking at his cuts to pay attention to what Jameson is up to.

Eventually, Jameson coughs slightly to get the tiger to look up and when the feline does, the doctor starts to tap the crude pictures he made on the ground.

Blitz tilted his head and looked at the figures. One was a thing that- looked like the panthers but with stripes. That was… him… right? The way the human was staring at him made him think so. And the other one… it was a man with a cape and a mask. He looked just like his master. Blitz chuffed a bit and laid down his head, his tail flicking in admiration.

Jameson shuddered at this act of affection. Magnificent has Alt down good… but… maybe this can still warn him. Dr. J made sure the tiger was still watching as he drew an arrow from Mag to Alt, then drew an x over the tiger. Blitz raised his head at this and cocked it curiously. Jameson shakily drew what he could remember the vestige looked like… even though it brought tears to his eyes and made him feel sick. He drew the spirit seeming to come off of the crossed out Alt, trying to hint at his fate.

He looked up to meet Blitz’s eyes, which were slowly starting to widen- his pupils looking more circular.

Jameson gasped quietly and scribbled to try to write something- if he was beginning to remember then…!

Alt! Please you need to wake up You’re in danger!

Blitz looked at the words almost like he could comprehend them and starts to back pedal, chest rising and falling fast like he’s close to panicking. Jameson watched with bated breath.

Then- the door to the cellar flew open, startling both the tiger and the doctor. Magnificent stood in the shadowed hallway, his glowing eyes the easiest thing to see.

“Blitz! We need to have a chat, my pet. Come.” He hissed, showing his fangs.

Any clarity Alt was getting was snapped out of him at the command and the tiger stood up straight, expression falling back to something inhuman as he slunk out the door to follow his master.

Magnificent looked down at Jameson and at his crude attempts to communicate. He chuckled and threw out a hand, letting magic erase all the evidence. The doctor gaped then looked angry and tried to get up to charge at him but was stopped by the chains keeping him to the wall.

Magnificent laughed again and grinned at Jameson, “A valiant attempt, Jackson. But, it will prove useless, I can assure you. After all- you can’t warn anyone without a voice~”

Magnificent’s laugh echoes down the hall and echoes in Jameson’s mind once he leaves. The doctor attempts to make a noise of frustration but nothing much comes out. He holds his head against his knees and tries to bite back tears. He… he hopes the others will find Alt in time…

———

Magnificent leads Blitz to his main warehouse space, the cat following after him loyally. All seems to be fine until-

Wham!

The mad magician throws a green tinted slap across Blitz’s face, making the tiger skid back with a yelp of pain. Magnificent’s eyes glow with anger as he growls out, “You miserable excuse for a cub! You couldn’t find better than this at that magic shop?!”

He grips one of the trinkets Blitz managed to find and clenches it tight in his hands, the gem of the locket cracking and magic energy flowing up Mag’s arm, lighting up his veins. The magic reaches up his arm and crawls up to just below his neck before disappearing. He cracks his neck and then bares his teeth at the cowering tiger.

“hm… fine- it will suffice… but- I fear you may have alerted that bumbling hero to us…” Magnificent sighs dramatically and circles Blitz for a second before appearing in front of him and grabbing his chin to make the cat look him in the eyes.

“My pet… you mustn’t let these heroes and that doctor lead you astray…! They feed you nothing but lies. Because I know your truth- I know you better than any of them. And I need you, Blitz.” Magnificent almost pleads to the tiger. The tiger blinks loyally at him, chuffing slightly. Magnificent peered into his eyes and studied them. The longer the spell went on…. The more that green ring in Alt’s eyes grew, overtaking the blue. Soon… he wouldn’t even be recognizable. And that’s just what Magnificent needed.

He smiled at the tiger and scratched his chin, cooing to him in a soft voice. “Don’t let those silly humans tell you any different, kitten. You have been my loyal pet your entire life~ and that will never change, right?”

Blitz chuffed again in agreement and licked at Mag’s hand, tail flicking happily.

Magnificent smiled and got to his feet, wiping himself off then patting Blitz on the head. “Get some rest out here, Blitz. That doctor isn’t going anywhere… and well- we both need to be well rested for tomorrow, don’t we?”

Blitz huffed a bit and went back up licking his wounds, now licking at the slightly green tinted fur from Mag’s magic. Magnificent nodded in approval and gathered up the rest of the stolen items from that witch’s shop and headed off to his room. He had much to do…

——

The rest of the morning goes smoothly for Blitz. He grooms- he naps- he plays with his panther siblings. They were such great fun! And they all loved him the second he was brought back into Mag’s little family. Why did he ever leave? That was Too much to think about though so he just focused on the fun!

He glitched around his siblings’ attacks, earning roars of protest that made him snicker. He pounces on the back of one of them- Lucky? Why did a human name come to him when he looked at them? and the panther tries to spin around but Blitz keeps them pinned down. He playfully grabs at their ear and tugs, the panther below playfully biting at his face.

Then- there’s a distant sound of something being knocked over in the warehouse.

All the cats’ ears perk up as they look around. Blitz gets off his sibling and sniffs at the air, starting to growl and buzz with glitches. Something wasn’t right here… something smelled off. An intruder?

Bro had just barely caught what almost gave them away, his other hand holding a squirming Glitches. He carefully tried to set down the box he caught and held Glitches closer in both his hands, trying to calm her down.

“Why did you think bringing Glitches was a good idea, again?” Jackie hisses quietly to the hero.

Chase narrows his eyes at Jackie and whispers back, “I told you! We need all the help we can get to spark Alt’s memories… maybe he’ll see Glitches and it’ll kick start something!”

“What if she gets hurt…?” Henrik asks, eyeing the now patrolling panthers as they start to fan out.

“…she won’t. I know my brother- he wouldn’t hurt her.” Chase replies back with certainty.

He then looks back at Henrik, “Hen- you ready with the distraction?”

Henrik nods, teal light flashing in his eyes as he holds his pocket watch tight.

Chase looks at Jackie and notices the father has a good hold on the rope leading to the door. Now… to get rid of the panthers…

“Okay… now!”

Thrusting out a teal covered hand, Henrik flicks open his pocket watch and clicks down the pin. A collection of huge warehouse boxes he suspended outside

all fall at once, creating a huge crash.

All the panthers and Blitz look towards the noise and roar- charging outside to investigate.

Chase and Jackie watch the mass carefully- finally noting that Blitz is right at the edge of the pack. They wait- wait- then…!

“Now!” Chase yells and Jackie let’s go of the rope. The sliding bay door that lead to outside quickly clunks down and stops Blitz in his tracks before he can get outside. Blitz roars at the door and bats at it with his claws then prowls in front of it, roaring in anger.

Henrik and Jackie suck in breath as the watch the beast.

“That… that’s Alt?” Jackie asks in disbelief.

Chase nods sadly. “Yeah…” But then he narrows his eyes in determination and takes off towards him. “But not for long…!”

The other boys exchange warily looks before following after the hero.

Bro touches to the ground a safe distance from Blitz- but close enough he’d be in trouble if the tiger charged. But still he called out to him. “Alt!”

Blitz looks back at the sound and looks at Chase with a bit of confusion. Then he snarls and growls ferally, digging his huge claws into the floor at the sight of his enemy.

Chase backs up slightly and holds out a hand towards the tiger, the other one holding Glitches as best as he can. Jackie and Henrik go to stand next to Chase, though they eye the tiger with a bit of fear.

“R-Relax..! Relax baby bro… it’s us! Your friends- and your brother and-“ The hero then yelps as Glitches scratches him and escapes his grasp, heading towards the tiger. “F-Fuck! Glitches!”

The small cat bounds straight up to Blitz and then stops in front of him. The tiger growls deeply and starts to raise a paw to bat this tiny annoyance away.

But, Glitches starts to meow and mewl at Blitz and the tiger blinks slowly and tilts his head in confusion. His paw lowers and he blinks slowly at the kitten.

Why… does she feel so familiar…?

Blitz suddenly roars in pain and ducks down his head, stumbling back some. Flashes of things he doesn’t understand are appearing before his eyes.

Human hands holding a small beaten up kitten. His hands feeding her fries. Her purring and curled up by his side on his bed in his old rundown apartment. He can feel the smile curling up on my lips and-

No no! That- that wasn’t right- he’s not a human…!

“W-What’s happening?” Jackie whispers in slight panic.

“Alt!” Henrik cries out in fear at hearing the cry of pain.

The tiger looks up at the three men and more images flash: the cafe- Jackie stealing his phone to put in all their numbers. Henrik’s kind smile over their first shared drinks. Chase’s unsure but earnest smile as he took off his mask for him. That same smile on a child- that held him close at night and told him everything was okay.

That same face is looking at him- with tears in his eyes… but the same amount of love.

Blitz’s heart is pounding- his chest heavy, his breathing picking up speed. This isn’t right…. This isn’t…!

Why- why does this feel so wrong?

Human light comes back to Alt’s eyes as he stumbles back and whines. He trips slightly over himself and then- looks down at his paws, as if just seeing them for the first time.

He starts to panic- making deep sounds like he’s trying to talk but they just sound animal. He looks to the others and flattens his ears, rowaring at them as he starts to back up and curl in on himself.

Glitches mewls in distress and tries to rub up against Alt’s massive paws. The tiger whines in response.

Chase tries to approach, holding up his hands, “Alt alt! It’s okay… it’s okay buddy… I-I know it’s scary right now but… w-we’ll figure this out together okay?”

“Will you now?” An amused voice laughs from the rafters. Glitches ears stick up then she hisses fiercely and backs up into Alt’s paw with hackles raised- as if she can protect him.

Magnificent looks down at the scene with an amused smile up from the catwalk he’s sprawled upon.

Chase bares his teeth and shouts up, “okay you Cheshire Cat motherfucker! This has gone on long enough! We broke your stupid memory spell so- let Alt go!”

At this- the mad magician frowns, a dangerous glint in his eyes. In a swish of color and static he suddenly appears in front of Alt and grabs his chin. The glitch yelps out and looks at Magnificent with clear fear in his eyes. That’s all he needs to confirm it.

His eyes flare in rage as he grabs Alt by the collar and bites out, “you fucking pathetic mistake! Who said you could wake up?!” He throws Alt back in a wave of magic before turning enraged eyes to the other boys. Chase backs up and puts his arm out in front of Hen and Jackie protectively.

“You will pay for breaking my cub, you useless wastes of space!” Magnificent snarls.

He thrusts out magic at the boys and suddenly, Henrik launches in front of Chase and Jackie and throws out a teal tinted hand- seemingly freezing Mag’s magic in mid air, like it was paused.

“What?!” Magnificent roars in anger.

“I’ll hold him off! Try to get to Alt!” Henrik shouts back to the other boys.

The magic suddenly flickers and just barely misses Henrik as he gets out of the way. He pants and then narrows his eyes at Magnificent in defiance.

Jackie and Chase exchange looks then try to book it over to help Alt.

Magnificent laughs as he cocks his head at Henrik, showing off his fangs. “My my… does the puppet think himself brave now? Does he think he’s a magician now? With your little… party tricks, hm?”

The normally happy go lucky actor bares his teeth in rage, his eyes glowing teal as he bites back. “I am just as much magic as you! But I will use mein for good!”

The dark magician thrusts out a hand and grabs one of Henrik’s arms in a green string, suspending the gentleman’s hand in the air. Henrik yelps out and tries to shake it off but Mag quickly grabs his other hand and grabs it in the same way, leaving Henrik semi dangling in the air. Henny stares to panic, trying to fight off the strings.

In a smear of color Mag is in front of Henrik and harshly grabbing his cheeks with his claws, really digging them into the flesh. He looks enraged as he whispers darkly to the trapped actor, “You are not magic- you don’t have an ounce of power on your own! If it wasn’t for that watch of yours- you’d be melting in my power the same as your pathetic friends! At least my cub will have a purpose but you…”

Magnificent holds out his other hand, thick claws sharpening and looking like he’s ready to carve out Henrik’s stomach.

“…you have long outlived your usefulness, Henrik~”

He laughs madly and Henrik feels his blood go cold as he tries to shout and fight in the magic.

The other boys reach Alt as he’s whining and pawing at his face, panting heavily. His irises can’t seem to pick which size to be- slitted or circles and the constant flux is making him dizzy and unable to see. Plus- all the noise and confusion and thoughts inside his head! It’s too much… too much…!

He barely feels Glitches trying to paw at him- hardly hears Jackie trying to call his name. He just barely feels the hands on his cheeks as Bro enters his line of sight. Alt looks desperately at his brother and tries to say his name, but all that comes out in a scared sounding growl.

Chase looks back at him with concern but reassured him, “It’s okay Alt- we’re gonna get you out of here and find a way to change you back! Just- focus on us, okay? Try to remember all the awful things Mag has done to you! You can’t listen to him, okay?”

Alt growls back with a hushed whimper and tries to nod.

That’s when they hear Henrik scream.

Magnificent’s hand has been thrust into Henrik’s stomach and the actor screams out in agony.

Alt feels anger explode in his chest, burning hot. His eyes glow as he roars loudly then charges at Magnificent, claws ready to tear into flesh.

Magnificent freezes at hearing the roar- momentarily paralyzed by something akin to fear. But then he turns around just in time to catch Alt in his magic, his hand still dripping blood. He crushes his hand and magic swarms Alt’s form-

And then… a tiny white tiger cub crashes to the floor. It shakes its head out in confusion and then looks up at Mag with conflicted eyes- more magic messing with his head.

Magnificent tilts his head at his cub, studying him quietly with a calculating eye. It was a shame he was awoken from his spell but… it seems whatever his friends were doing wasn’t holding up that well either. Perhaps… he had time to play a little game with them… a game that would crush them all even more when he won.

He snaps and the strings holding up Henrik disappear. The actor falls to the floor with a pained moan, curling up to hold his stomach.

“H-Henrik!” Jackie cries out and rushes over to help him, quickly taking off his jacket to help with the blood.

Chase hesitates then scoops up the now tinier Alt as Glitches climbs up onto his back. He narrows his eyes at Magnificent.

“W-What are you playing at, Mag? Are you just… toying with us?”

“Oh yes- very much so~,” Magnificent replies, grinning wolfishly at Bro. He flicks his cape and slinks around the hero and his cub. “I mean- my puppet annoyed me but… I suppose I can continue to let him live… for now. Im sure he’d also love to see how this alll plays out~! And well… I certainly made is easier for you to transport our precious cub, didnt I?”

Bro holds Alt closer and bares his teeth at Mag. “Just stop being a cryptic asshole and say what you wanna say!”

Magnificent frowns and straightens up and then sighs dramatically.

“Fine… if you must take away all my fun…”

He eyes all the boys and then meets Chase’s.

“I want to see who will win, in this game of tug of war. Who has the most pull over our dear sweet Alt~ I have my magic and you have your… ‘love’ or whatever. I’m very curious to see… if this is where it will all end~”

“Of course it won’t be, you-!” Bro tries to interrupt but Mag snaps and a flicker of static sticks over Bro’s mouth, silencing him.

“Let me finish, hero.” He snaps.

“Your dearest brother has had quite a time with me… and I’m very confident in my hold. And now looking at the time…” He looks through the crumbling walls of the warehouse and smirks at the rising moon before addressing Bro again. “You have about 24 hours…”

Bro startles and mumbles against the magic keeping him quiet, gripping Alt tighter. Alt is cowering in Chase’s grip- his eyes flickering between human and feline again.

Magnificent laughs madly and grins, holding out his arms, “Tomorrow night! When the moon is full and risen- if Alt returns here, still in his rightful form, then you all will have lost. There will be no saving him again… he will forever belong to me~

However… if by some miracle- you all figure out how to turn him human again and break my spell. Then… I will admit defeat.” He eyes Henrik, “You all seem to be more… confident in your magic. I’m sure you all will figure something out~” He teases sinisterly.

“In fact! It’ll be such a miracle that perhaps…” He snaps his fingers again and then tugs at the air- pulling something out of a collection of static. He grips a dirty mop of brown hair in his claws as he cackles out, “Mayhaps I may return your doctor to you all as well.”

Jameson looks up and around the warehouse with wide eyes. Magic is tight around his mouth like a gag and is keeping his arms bound behind his back. Once he sees his friends he tries to make sounds against the gag and fight against Mag some- but he looks awful and sickly. He’s so pale- so fragilely thin. His hair is long overgrown and in his eyes, his glasses cracked and filthy. And there’s a heavy iron collar around his neck like he’s a sick pet. He can hardly seem to make any noise loud enough for them to hear.

All of them gasp. Tears come to Henrik’s eyes as he struggles to get up, wanting to fight to get their friend. “J-Jameson!”

Bro looks enraged and tries to charge but Magnificent quickly tugs on Dr. J’s hair and in another burst of static he’s gone.

“Nuh uh uh heroes~! You can’t get that prize without beating me first!” He laughs and then lifts up into the air in a cloud of colored static, grinning manically down at the crowd below him.

“And with that! I believe our stage is set, gentlemen! I’m so looking forward to the performance tomorrow~!”

He grabs his cape then makes sure to meet Alt’s eyes, his eyes the only thing Alt can make out in his shadowed form. He grins at him and announces.

“Don’t be late, kittens.”

And in a dramatic pull of his cape, he disappears into static- leaving his threats to weigh heavily on the boys as the sky grew dark.

The clock was now ticking…

#im gonna finish this soon I swear to godddd #and work more on villain arc #I’m in such a writing mood so let’s fucking gooo #swapboys #readswapboys #alt.exe corrupted #hufflewriting #alt anti #Dr. jj #swap magnificent #bro fantastic #Jackie mann #jackieb01 #Henny von schneeplestein #silent film schneep #I love writing Mag like the dramatic theater kid he is jghvb #he’s so dramatic and for what? XD l #I’m also nervous cuz I haven’t posted a fic in a hot minute but eeee #I’m trying now!!

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undertheflagrp · 2 years

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LUCIA VON ELEYVER is a LEVEL ONE DARK MAGE. she excels in MAGIC, RESISTANCE and CHARM. she is also LADY OF ELEYVER in GLEERIUM.

< HP: 15 > < STR: 0 > < MAG: 10 > < DEX: 4 > < SPD: 3 > < LCK: 3 > < DEF: 0 > < RES 5 > < CHA: 10 >

STATUS | NOTES | INTRODUCTION LOADING...

[ QUEST: THE LOTUS FESTIVAL ]

As the door swings open, a gentle breeze lifts the brim of her hat and she raises a hand to steady it, alarmed. Her gaze lifts to the splendor framed by the doorway of their family coach as she hurriedly smooths her hair back into place. She’s given a few seconds to commit the vivid colors draped across the walls and lampposts to memory before the door closes behind her father, and she’s plunged back into the softly lit, enclosed space of dark red silk. Leaning back against the cushioned seat, she closes her eyes, reliving the extravagant display - it’s evident that no expense has been spared to celebrate the Lotus Academy and their prodigal students. Undoubtedly, Eleyver’s contribution to the festivities would be no insignificant portion of the grandeur with its son and heir being a part of the celebrations.

Muffled laughter and music echoes through the wall, dampened by the thick layers of curtains and velvet lining. She’s never felt so far away from it all, and the desire to be a part of the scene outside is almost tangible in its greatness that she can taste it in her mouth. Want tastes like a small square of cheap chocolate, she thinks - sweetly cloying inside your mouth until chasing the flavor leaves nothing but a bitter aftertaste. In the corner of the coach, she allows herself to imagine opening the door and stepping onto the cobbled stones worn smooth. She’d gather the hem of her skirt in her hands to run up the steps unhindered, and-

The door swings open, and for a wild moment, she wonders if she’d opened it herself. A familiar face illuminated with light and joy, beams up at her with a smile, and it’s all she can do to school her expression into mirroring her brother’s.

“Lucie, you came!” he laughs, reaching for her with all the delight of a beloved brother seeing his sister for the first time in months. She flinches - it’s pure instinct, and there’s no time to control the reflex. Lucien’s face falls, warm eyes flooding with concern and confusion.

Before the question in his gaze translates into verbal speech, her father steps into the frame, blocking out the light.

“You can catch up with your sister later, Lucien. There’s somebody else Lucia needs to meet first,” he says, smiling - it’s the kind of smile that holds all the radiance of Lucien’s, but none of the warmth. Feeling a chill trickle down her spine, she nods, rising her to her feet clumsily. As she steps out into the open air, she realizes that it isn’t the coach she was trying to escape - the night feels stifling, weighed down by the sharp, watchful gaze trained on her. The banners which had seemed to trumpet a kind of glorious freedom, now wave at her mockingly in its garish colors. She lowers her gaze to the ground, swallowing past the lump in her throat.

“YOUR DEATH IS MY DUTY.”

#uf:accepted #krp #kpop rp #jeon heejin #loona

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thenightmaregrrl · 2 years

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Orion's Body 2: He's Back-Chapter 16: Hunting Fair Grounds

Six Lasers Over Cybertron Amusement Park was quite large, being in the Iacon City part of the land, it had roller coasters, a carousel, a ferris wheel, games and food vendors, and a drop tower, the paths were lit by strings of lights between tents.

During the loading process, the students were packing onto a bus, happily talking away, unaware that they were joined by someone…

He was in low rise pants that were cinched with a studded belt, a tight shirt, and a cropped hoodie that was black and dotted with bright red hearts. He casually climbed onto the bus with simple steps.

Meanwhile, at the police station, Roller was packing his belt, he got his flashlight, his taser, his blaster, cuffs, mace, and spare mags.

Minimus saw him, “You going to the fair?”

Roller nodded, “I am. Can’t risk the killer following a bus full of teenagers.”

Minimus nodded back, “I agree.”

Roller finished preparing his belt and went to the door, “Minimus?”

“Yeah?” The smaller bot asked, looking at the taller one.

“Who do you think was the killer? From 5 years ago?”

“I honestly have no clue.” Minimus answered truthfully.

Roller simply nodded and walked out to his cruiser, he remembers what it was like 5 years ago. Back on the academy campus, learning how to do takedowns, patrol routines, learn codes for different crimes, he remembers letting out a girlish scream when he got shocked in the back by a taser. Course he also remembers the day he met Orion, he was still fresh in the academy, Orion was a sophomore, it was a small town, people talked, but no one did anything but merely frown at the notion of a bot in his 20s getting fresh with a teenager. Eventually the two hooked up, and became fuck buddies. They meet up in secret and do the deed, always using protection of course.

Eventually the fire happened, and Orion was… sacrificed. He wasn’t there but he can imagine how scared he must have been, how confused, how shocked, how lonely.

But back then, 5 years ago, when the killings were happening, no one knew it was the only male cheerleader doing them. Everyone thought it was a masked menace or traveling cannibal. Roller certainly thought so, when he discovered Starscream’s body.

Newly minted officer Roller was exploring the abandoned pool house. His servo was gripping the flashlight firmly. He had been sent to deal with a call from Starscream’s Carrier about him not coming home last night, he searched and questioned the students at the dance, the band performing (though looking back on it now, he should rip up that autograph picture and toss it in the trash) and the chaperones. It lead to a dead end, so he searched at the usual places horny teens like to do the dirty at, behind the walls at school, in an alleyway, and lastly the abandoned pool.

The pool house had a nickname, The Dead Pool. Way back when, it used to be full of life, with swim classes, free pool time, and such. But soon there were cutbacks, and the pool was abandoned, the water wasn’t drained and as a result it got full of scum and muck, turning into a dark murky brown from a clear crystal blue. Roller entered through a door that somehow never stays locked. He turns on the flashlight and walks through the building. His footsteps echoing.

He soon stumbled across the wet and bloody body of Starscream, his suit was drenched and clinging to his body, he was surrounded by dead vines and wet leaves in a mockery of Ophelia, his neck was torn open and bleeding pink energon, mixing with the water. His optics were gray and dull. With a shocked expression, Roller dropped his flashlight.

Roller made it to his cruiser, he got in, still deep in his thoughts.

“Hey copper.” A voice spoke up.

Roller jumped and looked to see Megatron in the passenger seat, lounging on it, his feet up on the dashboard.

“What are you doing here?!” Roller asked, shocked.

“What do you think? I’m using your ride as my ride to Six Lasers.”

Roller was about to make a retort but instead sighed in exasperation. With a frown he turned on the ignition and drove to the amusement park.

Six Lasers Over Cybertron was lit like a beacon, multiple colors glowed like jewels against a dark sky.

Students were running around laughing and cheering as they went on rides and ate funnel cake.

Orion was by the ferris wheel, watching as students were gallivanting around. His red optics scanning, like a perched bird of prey on the prowl.

He soon spotted a lone student, he was sitting at a table, eating a large energon goody and reading a book.

Target spotted.

With a sensual stride, Orion walked over to the student.

“Hey.” He spoke slowly, the student lifted his optics upward and saw the bot before him.

“Hi.” He closed his book. Watching as Orion sat down, his face illuminated by the hanging lights in hues of red and blue and yellow and green.

“What are you doing all by your lonesome?” Orion seemed to purr.

The student swallowed a lump, “I don’t really have any friends.”

Orion’s derma seemed to form a pout, “That’s no fun, everyone needs a friend. I know I do.”

“What do you mean?” The student asked curiously.

“What’s your name?” Orion asked back.

“Perceptor.” He answered meekly.

Orion smiled, “Well, Perceptor, I had a friend once, until they stabbed me in the back.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Perceptor spoke softly.

“Oh don’t be, it’s been 5 years.” Orion said with a sensual smile, he grabbed Perceptor’s servo and held it. “I’ll show you what good friends can do.”

And with that, he got up as did the student and he led them away.

Megatron and Roller pulled up and made it to the fairground, seeing the place is packed.

Megatron let out a groan of frustration, “It’s gonna be like looking for a needle in a haystack.”

Roller nodded and just walked in with him.

They questioned students and teachers, but found nothing. It was getting frustrating. Megatron sat down at a table, mulling it over.

Meanwhile, Perceptor was being led by Orion into a funhouse, the entrance was decorated with a giant face of a clown, its mouth serving as the entrance.

“Orion?” He asked, the taller mech spun to look at him.

“What? Scared of clowns?” Orion teased playfully.

Perceptor made a noise, “Pfft, no. Just curious.”

Orion smirked, “It’s a funhouse, meant for fun. And friends have fun together, don’t they?”

Perceptor nodded slowly, “Yeah… they do.”

Soon Orion smiled and they entered the funhouse, swallowed up by the clown’s gaping maw.

Megatron soon sensed something was wrong, one thing he forgot about in those 5 years was that supernatural like bond he had with Orion, he knew what he was doing and when he’d showed up to drag him to Dancitron or some other place. He shot up from his seat and ran, ducking and weaving past fair goers and such. He was like a graceful ferrofluid cat.

Back at the funhouse, Perceptor was walking alone, having been unknowingly tricked by Orion into tackling the Hall of mirrors alone. All he could see was his reflection over and over again. It was lit by blacklight and neon green, giving him a view full of deep ink purple and acid green.

“Orion?” He called out.

No answer.

He was about to turn around and go back until he collided with something, he looked. It was a large purple torso with windshield pecs. He slowly looked up to see Orion staring down at him. Not wearing his hoodie or undershirt.

“You scared?” Orion asked, ominously.

Perceptor felt a lump forming in his cables, and nervously swallowed.

The last thing he saw was Orion’s optics morphing into purple and hearing a demonic hiss.

Megatron raced to the funhouse, panting. He looked up to see the clown’s vacant eyes staring into the void and ran in. He dodged the spinning poles and ropes dangling from the ceiling, bright colored lights in funky patterns spun around the walls and illuminated his body.

Roller saw Megatron was gone and looked confused, he asked someone where the gold and red mech ran off to, and was pointed in the direction of the funhouse.

Megatron made it to the hall of mirrors. He bravely drew a breath and walked in, hands outstretched at his sides to keep himself from bumping into the mirrors. He took turns and slow steps, scanning for any sign.

Then he found it.

Perceptor’s limp body was on the floor, his energon glowing brightly in the blacklight, it pooled around him, his chassis was torn open, his spark casing in shreds. His face frozen in a visage of pain and terror.

Megatron gasped and covered his mouth, unaware of a stained Orion sneaking up behind him.

He was shoved into a mirror by Orion tackling, the shiny surface shattering into a million shards. He yelled in pain when he felt a shard dig itself into his side. He gripped the wound in pain, he looked up to see Orion, his mouth and chassis stained with glowing pink fluid.

“Where’s it at, Spikehat?” Orion teased.

“Fuck you.” Megatron growled out, getting up on his shaky pedes.

“You know, Megs, you always sucked at comebacks.” Orion snarked.

Megatron merely glared, his servo holding the bleeding wound.

“Teenagers, Orion? That’s so low of you.” He shot back.

Orion scoffed, “Don’t knock a guy for starving.”

Megatron felt the shard and grabbed it, with a painful shout he ripped it out and threw it to the floor. Orion watched.

“So, tell me, Orion, why go after these guys and not the band who brought you back?”

Orion arched a brow, “Why do I care about some lame band?”

“Because they named themselves after you.”

Orion tsked, “Charmed. But besides, I’ll deal with them in a bit, right now, I wanna focus on our unfinished business.” He snarled out the last word.

Megatron brought up a fist, “Bring it on.”

As soon as he said that, he saw Orion charge at him. He felt himself get tackled to the floor. He dodged Orion’s claws swiping at his face, he tried to shove him off, with a grunt he brought his pedes up and kicked, Orion was flung back and into another mirror, cracking it.

Megatron smirked, he always was a kicker.

Orion got up and growled in rage. Megatron swung a punch but Orion ducked, causing Megatron to hit the broken mirror.

Orion snatched the opportunity and punched the open wound in Megatron’s side, causing pain to flare up and Megatron to cry out and grip it, hunching over. Orion soon collided his knee into Megatron’s face, a sound of metal breaking can be heard. Megatron felt energon leak from his olfactor, it was most likely broken. He doubled over and looked as Orion was standing over him.

“You also sucked at wrestling and playing gladiators.” He said coolly.

He watched as Orion gripped a piece of the still standing broken mirror and effortlessly tore it off the frame, it was sharp. Orion walked over and held it aloft.

“You know, this is exactly what she did to me.” He said simply. Megatron tried to get up but was in so much pain.

“Consider this poetic justice, for what you did to me.” Orion finished. Megatron braced for the pain but was shocked when he heard a loud noise of shots being fired.

Orion stood there and felt as three bullets fly through his chest, pain erupted from the wounds, he dropped the shard and gripped his chest, he looked over to see Roller, holding a blaster.

“Don’t move.” The cop ordered.

Orion hissed and raced out of the hall of mirrors. Roller fired more shots, but they all missed, Orion was too fast.

He saw Megatron on the floor, bleeding. He raced to his side, “You okay?” He asked.

Megatron panted, “I’ll live.” He slowly got up.

They looked at the direction Orion ran off in, “Where is he gonna go?”

“I don’t know, all I know is he is full. I mentioned the band to him.” Megatron answered.

Roller nodded, and helped him walk to the exit.

In the mechs only washroom, Orion was using the washroom sink and paper towels to clean up.

Roller, should have known he’d still be around. He leaned against the sink, panting. Then looking up at his reflection, he noticed a flier taped up on the wall behind him. He turned around and went to it.

On it was the picture of the band Megatron mentioned, their name on the top in bold black letters designed to look like it was written in… was that his handwriting?

Okay creepers.

Orion kept looking, their logo was a silhouette of his body, seductively splayed above the word ‘Disciples’ on the bass drum.

Even as a legacy, all he is known for is his body.

Soon Orion saw the main thing, they were performing here, at Six Lasers.

Upon seeing this, Orion finally thought. He never really got revenge on the band who sacrificed him, but then again he was dead.

Maybe tonight, it can be his turn…

#NightmareWrites #nightmarerants #Orion's Body 2 #jennifer's body au #transformers shattered glass #TFJBAU

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echolitmag · 6 months

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Our Contest Winner Is...

Whispering Girl! Congratulations to Andy Charles, also known as @athenswrites or @athensoddcollections, for winning our contest and our $200 prize with your amazing short story! If any of ya'll would like to read it, be sure to check us out at echolitmag.com, or check out our podcast, Echo's Hollow!

#echolitmag #literary magazine #teen writer #the echo literary magazine #lit mag #writing #writers on tumblr #the echo tumblr intern #horror writing contest #horror writing #horror #writing contest #Congratulations athenswrites!

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grandhotelabyss · 2 years

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Pure self-indulgence but as a prelude to my new essay on the Odyssey please enjoy above a poem I wrote about Penelope when I was 18 in the year 2000 and published in my high school literary and art magazine. (And I do mean I published it, because I was the editor.) Painfully influenced by a nauseating mélange of T. S. Eliot and Neil Gaiman, yet still oddly readable. Maybe someday I’ll post the other good poem I wrote in that period, “and Aphasia and,” written in a daze the day after Columbine and within an hour of first reading “When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloom’d.” In general, I think youth can write good poetry; fiction, on the other hand, probably requires more experience. I wrote novels and novellas from my teen years on, but no good ones until I was around 30.

Anyway, my essay on the Odyssey, also the topic of a forthcoming Grand Podcast Abyss, all in the lead-up to the great Ulysses re-read of 2022. I can’t write these days about Homer without thinking about the question that persists from Plato’s Republic to the wokelord classicists of Twitter: should these violent representations be the aesthetic fount of our civilization? As a bad person (almost typed “bard person”), I’m not actually that vexed about the subject. The world’s brutal, why shouldn’t the poetry be brutal? But the case is worth making carefully, and, as in last year’s essay on the Iliad, I gave it my best effort:

In Book 1, in medias res, a now-mature Telemachus and his long-suffering mother Penelope are tormented by the presumed widow’s many suitors, eating them out of house and home as they make their own bid for the throne of Ithaca. In one moment, the household bard strikes up a song about the Trojan War, and Penelope gets what we might now call “triggered” by the aesthetic reminder of the conflict that took her husband away from her 20 years before. She chides the bard for his insensitivity, only to be rounded on by her son:

“Bards are not to blame— Zeus is to blame. He deals to each and every laborer on this earth whatever doom he pleases. Why fault the bard if he sings the Argives’ harsh fate? It’s always the latest song, the one that echoes last in the listeners’ ears, that people praise the most.”

Some 25 centuries later, this will be Théophile Gautier’s reasoning in one of the first modern defenses of art-for-art’s-sake against moralizing, politicizing, and otherwise censorious critics: that the artist just represents what goes on in the world, and if you don’t like all the sex and violence, you had better reform nature and society instead of misdirecting your anger at the artist’s truthful representations of them.

One more tale out of high school. I edited the annual lit/art mag for three years with my friend Dan—I was the writer, he was the artist. Early in our tenure, I devised a three-year plan for the cover designs allegorizing the growth of the artist’s talent, which Dan drew beautifully.

Cover #1: in the artist’s tender youth, execution bursts forth from vision, the hand exploding out of the eye as the artist hastens to record perception. Cover #2: as the artist grows to maturity, execution begins to shape vision, the sense of artistic vocation beginning to influence what is perceived, the hand now directing the eye. Cover #3: for the mature artist, vision and execution, hand and eye, are at one, indivisible.

My God, were we ever serious in the year 1998! For more on that, please try my novel, The Class of 2000.

#homer #classics #greek literature #ancient greece #poetry #epic poetry #literary criticism #plato #theophile gautier

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emperor-palpaminty · 3 years

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Inadequate

Echo is insecure about his appearance and who he is. However, you're intent on proving him wrong, showing him he's still as human as ever.

You hummed softly and stitched up the hole in the civilian short next to you. Becuase the other guys on the Havoc Maruder were doing other tasks, it left you with a majority of the menial tasks. Tech would usually help stitch up whatever needed it. However, at this time, Tech was occupied working in the front of the ship, struggling with the mechanics of the ship. Wrecker had a habit of breaking the needles (he just didn’t know his own strength, you guessed), and Hunter’s extra sensitive touch didn’t work well with the delicacy of the needle and thread. And Echo, he... well, he never tried to be alone with you any more.

Omega climbed onto the bunk next to you. “Whatcha doing?” She cocked her head to the side, watching your singers move in and out, swiftly moving the needle.

“Oh, I’m stitching.” You smiled over at her. “Would you like to learn?”

The child’s face lit up. “Yes, please!”

You chuckled, picking up a second needle and threading it for her. “You always want to use two threads, like this.” You wrapped the threads together, demonstrating with a slight tug. “On its own, one thread is weak. But the more you have, the more difficult they are to break.”

Omega nodded, watching intently. “Like the Bad Batch?”

You chuckled, nodding softly. “Yes, like the Bad Batch.” You held the needle down to Omega, who accepted it with glee, and she began stitching up a green shirt. “I wanted to ask you something.”

“Shoot.”

“How long have you known everyone here?” Omega’s tongue lolled slightly from her mouth as she focused on tightening the stitch. “I know you were active with the Republic. Well, what used to be the republic.”

“I met the Bad Batch on Kamino. I was assigned to make sure they didn’t kill themselves by doing something stupid.” You chuckled. “I’ve known them for... oh, I’d say six months or so. The Kaminoians wanted to keep an eye on them but none of the clones trust Kaminoians, so I was hired.” You sighed. “I’ve known Echo for a while. He was an ARC trooper. I didn’t see him often, but when we did, we were close and talked a lot.”

“Has he changed much?”

You paused, your hands freezing with your mind. “Yes,” You said after a moment. “Now that you mention it Omega, he is.” Previously, Echo had been confident, proud, and bold. Especially when you had been around. When you were nearby, he had been bold, his chest puffing up under his ARC armor. Once or twice, he had even flirted, his hands passing casual touches and whispering sweet lines, which resulted in you giggling and batting him away, playfully.

Before the Citadel mission, he had even kissed you. It was sweet, quiet. You were in the armory, repairing a gun with a busted plasma mag. It was just you, alone in the small armory, only looking up when Echo had come in.

”We have a big mission.” He lowered his hemlet onto the nearby crate, approaching you and pausing. “It’s pretty dangerous.”

“You’ll be fine,” You chuckled, looking back down at the gun. “You aren’t an ARC Trooper for no reason.”

He reached down, fingers smoothing over your chin and bringing your face up. His eyes were lit with concern, and he squatted down in front of you. “I just don’t have a great feeling about it.”

You gently lowered the gun you were working on. “You’ll be fine,” You reassured. “You’ll see.”

Echo stood, pulling your hands up. “I... I know.” He sighed, then tugged his lips into a smile, pushing a hand down to your back. “But I don’t want to regret anything, you know. Not saying anything.” His gaze flickered to your lips, hand tugging you closer. “Not doing anything.” He exhaled, brow creasing as he leaned down, breath warm against your face. “Not doing... this,” He exhaled, lips pressing against yours.

It should have shocked you, really. But for some reason, it didn’t. Instead, you reached up and ran a hand in his curly hair, smiling against his lips. “You’ll come back to me,” You mumbled, pulling away and thumbing his cheek.

“I’ll make sure of it. One way or another, I’ll come back to you.”

Omega’s voice snapped you out of the memory. “Are you alright?” She scooted over. “You zoned out for a moment.”

You nodded, standing. “Echo is different now, isn’t he?” You pursed your lips. “Where is he now?”

“Outside,” Omega blinked, half confused. “Do you want me to keep doing this?”

“If you don’t mind. Thanks, kid.” You turned and hurried out, abandoning Wrecker’s shirt that you had been stitching up.

___

You hurried outside the ship, glancing around. It was dark outside, and Echo was probably the only one on watch right now. He and his brothers had been taking shifts. You glanced around, hurrying towards the edge of the clearing. “Echo,” You said aloud. You glanced around, seeing the figure turn.

You hurried towards him. “Echo, I need to talk to you.”

He stared at you from under his helmet, not speaking.

“You’ve been so distant with me,” You tilted your head. “You and I used to be so much closer.” Your voice cracked in pain.

“Not now,” He said softly, voice obscured by his helmet.

“Why?” You moved closer. “Echo, I miss you.” You reached forward, softly taking his hand. “I miss us.”

He started at you- or at least, you assumed he did, because his helmet obscured his face. But his body shrunk back slightly, shoulders drooping. After a moment, he removed his helmet. “I... I miss us too. But it’s just not the same.”

“How?” You frowned. “You’re still Echo.”

“But I’m not.” He glanced down at his cyberonic hand, frowning. “I’m not the same man I was. I’m not... normal. I’m inadequate.”

“I don’t love normal, I love Echo.” You stepped around, eyes meeting his, boldly. “I won’t let you walk away because you believe I think you’re less.”

His head snapped up. “Look at me, I’m literally less of a human.”

“But you’re no less Echo.” You gently tugged his hand to you. “And I still want all of Echo.” His eyes flickered down, and you reached up, softly tilting his head towards yours, the same thing he did years ago. “I mean all of Echo. Right now.” Your brow creased. “How can I show you?”

Echo looked up at you again, a small smile flickering on his face. “You’re so constant in my life. You’re still here,” His voice broke in his throat. “You’ve already shown it. I just-”

“Shh.” You stepped forward, hugging your arms around him, squeezing him gently. “You can take your time.” You glanced up at him, gently stroking a hand on his pale face. All that time in the bacta, hooked up to machines, it had changed his appearance. And yet, in his eyes, he was more Echo than he had ever been. “I will want to still, when you’re ready.”

#echo #bad batch echo x reader #bad batch echo x you #bad batch reader insert #bad batch #clone wars reader insert #minty writes

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kimmimaru · 3 years

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I wrote a thing. Not sure what it will be quite yet but it is fun. Contains some very mild sexual content, I guess. More like sexual tension. It’s Tseng/Reno, set during Before Crisis when Heidegger sends the Turks to Junon and nearly gets them all killed until Veld blackmails his way back in as leader of the Turks.

It's raining. The city streets slick, damp with coloured lights sparkling in the puddles. The air tastes like salt and iron, the wind is sharp and cuts through fabric like a scythe. Reno's boots splash through a puddle, sending water up to soak into the cuff of his trousers. He curses under his breath, sweat and water sticking hair to his face as he dives down a nearby alley. He presses himself against the filthy, graffiti covered wall and peers back down the neon-lit street. He hears harsh voices, the thud of boots on tarmac and he ducks back into his hiding place. He looks up and watches the stars, waiting. From somewhere close by he hears an explosion. It rattles through the ground beneath his feet, vibrating up through his legs. Reno sucks in a sharp breath and holds it as his pursuers approach. “What was that?” “Dunno. Where did he go?” “Fuck. C'mon, this way.” Reno closes his eyes tightly and waits, listening to the men run off. Junon was overrun with Avalanche operatives and Heidegger had thrown the Turks straight into the fire. Anger and exhaustion wage a war beneath Reno's skin as he tries to use his reprieve to catch his breath. He's been running around Junon since they'd landed, forced to split from the others as Avalanche had started hunting them. They'd been calling for back up since sundown and Heidegger had made promises of Soldier support but it's been hours and still no sign of it. Reno swallows, a bitter taste sitting on the back of his tongue. He opens his eyes and looks at a badly drawn dick on the wall opposite. He's shaking as he lifts a hand to sweep soaked hair from his face. He has a bruise developing under his eye, his body aches and he's torn a hole in the knee of his trousers. A new set of footsteps causes him to stiffen, he grips his mag rod and waits, holding his breath. The footsteps draw closer. Slow, even steps as if whoever it is doesn't have a care in the world. Reno closes his eyes and breathes deep. The figure stops at the alley entrance and turns their head in Reno's direction. Reno freezes, hoping he can't be seen in the shadows. More voices echo down the streets, boots thud against concrete. They get louder as they draw closer. The figure at the end of the alley moves quickly towards Reno. He tenses, arm rising but the figure grabs his wrist and shoves his arm back down. Reno opens his mouth to speak and a gloved hand covers it. Reno's eyes widen as the figure leans in close, hot breath brushing Reno's cheek. “Don't move.” The voice is deep and familiar. Reno relaxes a little, no longer struggling. Tseng's eyes are dark, reflecting some of the blue light coming from a neon bar sign hanging close by. Shadows hide in the hollows of his cheeks, as he watches the alley entrance. Reno's eyes track down his neck, seeing a dark coloured scarf. Tseng's dressed in bloody Avalanche fatigues, a bandanna hiding his hair and forehead. Reno shivers, Tseng's body hot against his cold skin. He's still panting, heart beating a rapid tattoo in his chest. Tseng's pressed close, he can feel the tension in his muscles.

The new group pass by, oblivious. They listen to them fade into the distance. Finally Tseng turns his attention back to Reno. Reno watches him, eyes heavily lidded as he slumps back against the wall, almost boneless. He's exhausted, his muscles aching. Tseng's hand slowly slides from Reno's mouth, he traces a scrape on his jaw with a touch almost too light to feel. Reno shivers as the wind howls between the buildings. Tseng licks his lips, eyes dropping to Reno's mouth. His fingers curl around a lock of hair that's escaped the trap of his goggles, “You're ok.” Tseng says, almost a question. “Yeah.” Reno pants, “I'm good.” Tseng nods, slow. “They're going to have to turn around and come back.” “Uh-huh.” “We need to get out of here.” “Y-yeah.” Neither of them move. Reno's suddenly too warm, his limbs feel weirdly sluggish after all that running. Adrenaline still lingers in his muscles, making him feel twitchy and ragged around the edges. “Are you hurt?” Tseng asks finally, gaze flicking down Reno's body and lingering on his exposed chest for a little too long. Water trickles from Reno's hair, down his throat and chest. Reno swallows, “Not much. Few bruises, nothin' a potion won't fix.” Tseng relaxes, “Good.” He says, his voice going hoarse. He hasn't moved away, still pressing Reno against the wall. His fingers still linger on Reno's jaw, leather cold and wet against Reno's skin. They look into each others eyes until the sound of a helicopter overhead snaps them out of it. Reno looks up, squinting, “Is it one of ours?” He asks, craning his neck but he can't see any identifying marks. “Let's assume not,” Tseng replies, watching the chopper hover briefly before moving away. “It's gone.” Reno licks his lips, realising he's clutching at Tseng's sopping wet sleeve. His fingers spring open and he takes a step back. He hits the wall and looks away. The rain continues to fall, dripping down the back of Reno's neck. “You heard from the chief?” He asks under his breath. Tseng slowly shakes his head, gaze moving from the skies, “No.” “Shit.” Reno turns away, running both hands through his hair as he stares down the alley with a frown, “Fucking Heidegger, yo.” “Indeed.” Tseng tugs at his stolen uniform, it smells like death and blood. “We need to keep moving. Let's see if we can rendezvous with the others.” Reno nods, fingers tightening on his mag rod. Tseng takes his hand and pulls him to the alley entrance. He peers around both corners before slipping back into the street. They run, hand in hand, through the shadows. Occasionally they'll spy an Avalanche patrol and Tseng will drag Reno into an alcove or shop doorway. Reno closes his eyes, trying not to think too deeply about the way Tseng's body moulds to his or the heat of Tseng's breath on his face. It's not the running that has Reno breathing hard, it's the tension coiled in Tseng's muscles. It's the hard look on his face as he shoves Reno once again into a wall, hand pressed to his shoulder. Reno shivers. He can't catch his breath, his cock is a solid line trapped in his underwear and whenever Tseng touches him he leaves lines of fire across Reno's skin. Tseng leads them unerringly towards the airship landing pads, his fingers slick and wet in Reno's. When they reach them Tseng jerks Reno to a halt. Reno loses what little breath he'd regained in a rush when Tseng shoves him hard up against a door. Reno's hand comes to rest on Tseng's shoulder and he looks up into his face. Tseng lifts a finger to his lips, jerking his head back towards the landing pads. He lifts his hand, indicating three men. Reno swallows and nods, shifting his hips away in case Tseng notices his predicament. They listen to the three Avalanche members talk in low voices until there's another explosion. The men mutter to one another and one finally leaves. Another contacts their CO. Tseng's hand drifts to Reno's hip, fingers tightening, digging into flesh. Reno's eyelids flutter and he's having a hard time focussing on the enemy. Tseng seems oblivious, eyes fixed on the street, narrowed in anticipation. Tseng shifts, bringing their bodies closer together. Reno bites back a moan and drops his head back against the wall, breathing hard. He's tense, mouth dry and he feels a little dizzy. Tseng brings his lips close to Reno's ear, “Are you ok?” Reno's brows contract, “Y-Yeah...” He whispers, forcing a small grin. “Just-uh...” He clears his throat. “You look flushed.” Tseng continues, concern in his eyes. “Hot.” Reno croaks weakly, “Too hot.” Tseng looks up at the sky, “It's raining.” Reno laughs and shakes his head, “I'm good.” “If you say so.”

#reno/tseng

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clemkesh · 4 years

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A ranking of friends at the table players’ character squads based on how likely it is that at least one of them will be murdered if they are all stuck in an elevator together for 24 hours, from least to most. This is based on nothing and I will be accepting no complaints.

Least Likely For There to Be a Murder: Dre’s Squad (Throndir, Sige, Even, Valence)- Throndir comes with Kodiak and all tense situations can be diffused via big, fluffy, dog. Yes, I know Sige is very pro violence (though if this is epilogue Sige, maybe less so) and he would almost certainly not vibe with Valence, but you just can’t do a murder with Kodiak as a witness. Also, Throndir and Even would def be good bros. Murder Odds: 0/10, Get yourself an anti-murder floof

Probably No Murder?: Janine’s Squad (Adaire, Signet, Thisbe)- You KNOW Signet and Thisbe would get along great. Signet knows how to befriend big robots and those ladies would be hittin it UP. The biggest concern here is that Adaire would maybe strip Thisbe for parts and sell her, but I think Signet would be able to talk her out of it. Murder Odds: 2/10, Give me the Signet & Thisbe dynamic duo asap

Murder Still Kinda Unlikely: Sylvia’s Squad (Ephrim, Aubrey, Echo, Millie)- This is the elevator I would most wanna be stuck in, just cause this seems like a great crew and I think their convos would slap. Get some drinks up in here and everyone will get lit as hell and do each others’ hair. They are however, a rather chaotic unit. Like, Ephrim is a literal firecracker and Aubrey makes explosives and there’s just A Lot of variables that could lead to things blowing up literally or figuratively. Murder Odds: 3/10, Whatever happens it will be exciting

Who Knows With These Guys?: Keith’s Squad (Fero, Mako, Gig, Leap)- There are two possibilities here: 1. We already know Mako is great at corralling chaotic bois into a powerful force and they would all find each other hilarious. Fero and Gig could talk about horses while Leap and Mako discuss spacecrime, all in all a wonderful time. They become BFFLs. Or, 2. Have you ever met someone who was similar to you and felt a primal drive to prove yourself the alpha? Something happens and everyone snaps. Maybe Mako tries to fog Leap. Maybe Gig takes out his eye and Leap steals it. Maybe Fero turns into a wholetaur and no one can deal with it. Whatever it is, it turns into the Hunger Games. Only one can survive. Murder Odds: 5/10 I’ve literally never been able to predict Keith’s characters and I’m not about to start now

Slightly Murder-Leaning: Ali’s Squad (Hella, Aria, Castille, Tender, Broun)- Hella “What here is evil?” Varal’s presence elevates (ha) the likelihood of murder in this elevator by at least four points. Yes, she has grown past that, but ya gotta honor her “destroy what you don’t understand” roots somewhat and there’s a lot in this elevator she wouldn’t understand. Also, at least two people in this elevator would end up making out (Aria and Tender would 100% be into each other I’m right and I should say it) and that would probably cause a decent amount of discomfort or tension which could escalate into murderous feelings. Murder Odds: 6/10, orgy odds 1/10 Ali’s pcs all have horny energy and I respect that

Murder Seems Probable: Jack’s Squad (Lem, AuDy, Hitchcock, Fourteen, Clementine)- It’s not so much that I can point to any one person in this group who will do the murder, it’s just that as an entire unit this is probably the team that is most down with murder as a concept, and Lem and Clem are both pretty murderable people. Like, AuDy could shoot Clem and I think the Hitchcocks would politely applaud. Murder Odds: 8/10 A softboy, a robogod, a dancer, a duelist, an assassin, and a princess walk into an elevator...

Murder 100% Guaranteed: Art’s Squad (Hadrian, Cass, Grand, SI)- Grand Magnificent is the most murderable PC in f@tt history. Anyone who is stuck in an elevator with Grand Mag for 24 hrs and does not murder him is a saint. I have never done a murder but if I saw a man wearing the “ephemeral idea of a leather duster” it would be on SIGHT. Murder Odds: 10/10 I feel this is self explanatory

#listen i love grand mag as a character i really do but he is #inherently murderable!#friends at the table #f@tt #fatt #i spent more time on this than necessary #long post

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undertheflagrp · 2 years

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SHANGGUAN ZIYU is a LEVEL TWENTY SWORSMASTER. she excels in SPEED, DEXTERITY and MAGIC. she is also LORD OF FROST in GANGGYN.

< HP: 26 > < STR: 6 > < MAG: 15 > < DEX: 15 > < SPD: 15 > < LCK: 6 > < DEF: 5 > < RES 4 > < CHA: 8 >

STATUS | NOTES | INTRODUCTION LOADING...

[ QUEST: BATTLING YOUR BELOVED ]

( trigger warning: blood, massacre )

“Don’t.” The words that fell from her lips were soft, but cold. “You know better than to stand back up when facing me, Ziyun.”

Gone were the memories of loving touches between them, his hand brushing a delicate flower through her hair—the first kiss they shared on the first day of spring.

Fifteen years of courtship and love.

And all for nothing.

Ziyu’s eyes flickered, her grasp on her sword still as the battle raged around them,

“Ever the realist, huh?” Blood stained her fiance’s lips as he wavered right where he stood, sword point buried in the ground as he shook.

“I had to.” She whispered, remembering the happiness that had lit Ziyun’s younger sister’s eyes as she entered their doors—oblivious and welcoming, until the first swing of her sword had cleaved their heads from their necks. “They went against what we stood for.”

The screams of women and children still rang in her ears.

Their blood, scattered in tiny rivulets across her face and clothes, staining the fresh snow.

“What your family stood for.” The nails in Ziyu’s left hand dug into her palms.

“You’re not being fair to me.” She breathed, the glinting end of her sword shimmering in the moonlight as he took a step closer, the sharp edge of her sword sinking about an inch into human flesh. “You forget that I don’t have a choice.” They had forced her after all, being the one engaged to Ziyun’s family, to be the one to draw the first blood.

Loyalty, above all else. Her mother’s cold eyes glinted in the moonlight, the tassels of their swords fluttering in the wind as she handed the sword to her, under the cold eyes of her other siblings. Show me.

The words twist, like a knife in her gut.

“Excuses, excuses—EXCUSES!” Ziyun screamed, his irises blown wide, spittle frothing from his mouth as he screamed and clenched his teeth, tears spilling from his eyes. He raised his sword once more, pants escaping in little puffs of steam in the falling snow. “There’s always a choice. It wasn’t my sister’s fault that her skills ended up being greater than your sister’s.”

His brittle laugh shattered in the chilling night air, splintering like ice as he took a single step closer.

“We could have had everything. If only your family’s greed for increasing their power hadn’t slaughtered it all. If only--!” Ziyu’s eyes widened, watching as he took another step closer, feet shifting back in trepidation as she held her breath.

“If only they hadn’t killed everyone in my family.” His smile was sharp, and the ache in her chest swelled. “But here we are. Forever wondering what could have been.”

“You don’t have to. Marrying into our family would give you the protection you ne—” The lie sticks in her throat, the air stuck in her throat like a monster that dug it’s claws in deep, its bite worse than its bark.

“Lies.”

“Please.” Ziyu gasped, all semblance of her façade crumbling as she watched her fiancé yank his sword, the sharp echo of its blade reverberating through the quaint courtyard where she had spent most mornings and nights, basking in the tender embrace of his arms.

“Oh Shangguan Ziyu, what a cruel woman you are.” His sword glitters in a mirror image of her own, both their hands trembling—two sides of a coin, once close, yet now miles apart.

“Try me.”

…

“It’s done, my lady.” The white-haired matriarch of the family sheathed her sword as her servant scurried towards her, yanking the blade free from a twitching body as she turned to face her subordinate with stone cold eyes.

“And Ziyu?” The servant pauses, blanching for a moment as they tried to gather their wits.

“The second young lady is still in the courtyard.” The faintest tremble of the servant’s voice told of his uncertainty. “We couldn’t get her to move away from the bodies.”

The matriarch hummed slightly, vague disapproval knitting her brows together as she moved towards the door of the courtyard, the rest of her brethren following suit, hands upon the pommel of their swords, faces grim.

“She’s always been too soft.” The matriarch muttered, pushing open the door to the courtyard, the snow beneath her boots stained a slick red with fresh blood, stopping short as her eyes landed upon the lone figure in the courtyard, a body of a young man broken in her embrace, blood pooled beneath her from where her sword had pierced the male’s abdomen.

Tears had frozen upon her cheeks, tracking down her face and leaving her eyes dry, fingers clutched onto the cold body of the male, his face buried in the fur of her cape from where she had drawn him close to her heart.

“ Mother.” Ziyu felt her lips part, the barest whisper falling in greeting from her lips as she tightened her hold on the frozen body of her fiancé, her voice aching with a pain that she had yet to fathom herself. “Are you appeased now?”

“BETTER A DIAMOND WITH A FLAW THAN A PEBBLE WITHOUT ONE.”

#uf:accepted #liu shi shi

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crearuru · 3 years

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Bravely Default II, Martha x Adelle Chapter 1?

Spoilers for Chapter 3 through the end of the game chapter 6. Word count: 3,113. A lot. Like a lot. I'd count but tumblr wont let me copy paste the whole thing at once and its 4 am

Everyone knows Rhimedhal's winters are colder than the deepest ocean, and that the freezing winds could cut with a fury matching the most skilled skilled of mages. Of course, reading about it was one thing, but to a certain fairy from as sheltered and temperate an environment as Mag Mell, the thought to dress properly for the cold came far too late.

I knew it would be cold, but this is just ridiculous! If my wings were out they'd freeze before I could even get off the ground... Adelle pondered if keeping her disguise intact was worth the freezing cold. Surely, no one being around would allow her to drop her guard... but could she ever truly know who was watching? She'd set out to find her sister knowing she would need to lay low, but dressed for warmth as she was, and with such low visibility, she admitted she desperately needed shelter. She couldn't risk alienating herself from any nearby humans who might spot her braving the storm.

Even the monsters are hunkered down, she thought bitterly to herself. And where was this Rhimedhal town supposed to be, anyways? Surely she should've reached it by now... But she had to keep moving. Had to find somewhere to rest. The wind buffeted her, the ice it carried leaving shallow slices across her exposed midsection. The blizzard had arrived so suddenly, and her memory of the beautiful, gentle snowy night that it interrupted was far from a priority now. Leaving the Wayward Woods was something she needed to do, for her sister, but it was too late to return and beg for more supplies. She wondered how she would ever find those flowers she promised to bring back for her dear friend if she froze out here.

Is that... A cave? A section of darkness ahead, when the blinding white snow clung to everything else brought Adelle's heart a renewed vigor. She would not fall so soon into her journey, not to something as simple as the weather. As she tucked into the Serpent's Grotto, she lit a small fire and set up a tent. She would need to hunker down until the storm passed, which could take anywhere from hours... to weeks. As she regained feeling in her extremities, she realized the wind would blow out her fire if she did not go deeper.... and monsters within the cave may ambush her if she did not take caution. But first... she needed rest. Just an hour or two, and she would be fine. She wasn't in direct path of the wind, for she was behind an outcropping in the cave. She had some time to recover before pressing on.

And so, Adelle slept. Cold, hungry, and exhausted... But not alone. She dreamt of brown hair, of eyes locked upon her with a determination that matched her own, of flashes of silver and pink just out of the fire's light...

And the subject of these dreams knew she was there. Martha had asked Master Gwidyion if someone was coming, and he more than confirmed it. But was the stranger friend, or foe? That is what Martha set to find out. As she prowled the Grotto, her jaw firmly set, her eyes sharp and focused, she wondered if this visitor understood the ground upon which they trespassed. Were they here for the Lord of Dragons? To help? To harm? Master Gwydion had been sick for a while, and Martha worried he may not have much time left. Gwilym was next to inherit the position, but he was young. Needed time. Martha had served Master Gwydion for most of her life, as did her father before her, and his father, and so on. To neglect opportunities to extend his time on Excillant would just not do.

Having taken care of a few troublesome spirits, Martha reached the entrance to the cave. She saw a gray haired girl, in blue and grey, around her age, who she was surprised to see had not succumbed to the cold. Wearing a short shirt and loose pants in a blizzard? Sure, Martha wasn't exactly the picture of bundling up right now, but that was the result of the Dragoon asterisk! She wouldn't leave her midsection exposed to the cold if she weren't the Dragoon guardian, especially not going out into the blizzard full force. Looking closer, she noticed the girl was cut up something awful. The ice in the air had done quite the number on her face and torso. Foe or not, Martha knew she wouldn't likely make it without treatment. Not without some severe frostbite, at least. Eyeing the girl curiously, she picked her up and set her upon her broad shoulder. They would both do nicely with a warm cup of the good stuff in Gwydion's chambers. Then maybe she could ask about the intent behind her trespass.

Adelle opened her eyes to a brightly lit room, filled with greenery, sunlight coming in from the top of the chamber. It was so... warm. She smiled for a moment, content and warm, before feeling the bandages upon her face and stomach.

"Where... Where am I?" Adelle wasn't really expecting an answer, but she heard a calm, regal voice echo in her head.

"You are safe, child of... No? How very... interesting..." Looking up, Adelle saw a massive, silvery dragon, looking down upon her with piercing, yet gentle, red eyes. He seemed almost to take up the whole chamber, and yet he did not feel imposing. The weariness in his voice softened his aura considerably. Her mouth agape, she patted herself along her upper and lower back, wanting to ensure her wings were still hidden. After reassuring herself she would have felt herself revert to her true form, she turned her gaze back to the dragon. "Are you a..."

Martha, piping up from beside the massive beast, let out a quick laugh. "A dragon? Why yes, he is. This is Master Gwydion, and I am his guardian and caretaker, Martha." The brunette smiled, and despite the protective aura seemingly emitting off her, it was a kind and sincere one. But there was an edge to her voice as she continued, "You are trespassing on sacred ground. None are permitted here, in order to keep Master Gwydion, Lord of Dragons, Lord of Rhimedhal safe. State your business, or I'm afraid my act of bandaging your wounds may go to waste."

So it was Martha that bandaged these... Adelle idly traced her fingers along a particularly long stretch of red on her bandaged torso. She must have got cut up worse than she had thought from that ice. "I thought dragons were supposed to be creatures of myths to-" she caught herself. She did not want to find out if humans still carried murderous intent towards her kind. She had heard they would lie, cheat, betray and attack. But this one had bandaged her wounds...? "I thought dragons were supposed to be creatures of myth."

Gwydion's laughter rang through the chamber. There was no malice in it; it was a laugh like that of one who has reconnected with a long lost friend. "I am not the only one here who could claim connection to myth! But, I shall keep this secret for the time being."

Shit, Adelle thought, he's onto me. But at least... she turned her head to look at the woman beside the massive dragon. She definitely appeared to be human. The village fairies had told her that humans had "genders"; "males" were broad and deep of voice, "females" supposedly higher and... Well, there were many differences purported between the two. Adelle observed Martha's strong arms, her tender grip on her spear, the sparkle in her eyes. She couldn't see anything that would help her confirm or deny the accounts of the village fairies. "Men" were "he", "women" were "she"... Maybe asking along those lines would help her keep things straight for maintaining cover.

"Martha?" The brunette looked deep into Adelle, unblinking pools of emerald green. There was caution given towards the fairy in disguise, although she of course had no reason to believe Adelle was anything other than human. Rather, she suspected her motives for coming here. Perhaps there may be something she could do to-

"Martha!"

Martha snapped out of her brainstorming of ways to prove good or ill will for a moment. Her gaze had been returned this whole time.

"Yes?" She asked Adelle through her teeth. Surely no one would come to kill the Lord of Dragons without so much as a winter coat, right? But that brings up the question of what kind of person could make it this far into the Rhimedhal region without freezing to death or prepping properly. The girl's fortitude was certainly-

"Are you-" Adelle caught herself. She needed to phrase this in a way that wouldn't make her look like someone who doesn't know what a "woman" is. "What are your pronouns?"

Martha took a moment to process this. Just what kind of girl gets all cut up in the ice and wind, collapses on sacred and forbidden ground, gets brought to see a dragon, a DRAGON, a deity on earth, and takes the time to ask someone's pronouns before addressing any of the above! Was she trying to strike a nerve? Had she simply forgotten to shave? Martha knew the Dragoon outfit might make her look like a tryhard, some had gone so far as to whisper she was a... a... there were some rather unkind statements going around about her appearance since she'd been dressed in Dragoon, but she was a priest! ....a priest... Right. And should priests not assume sincerity until proven otherwise?

Martha took a breath, then let out a long, slow exhale. "I appreciate your consideration in not assuming. It's quite... modern of you. But, as I've drilled into the townsfolks' heads already, I am a woman. She/her is fine... What about yours? And your name? I can hardly dance around saying it forever."

Adelle was no better off than she had been before. She knew fairies couldn't tell men and women apart, but had she commited a faux pas? Maybe humans and gender weren't so straightforward as the texts implied. Gender was certainly seeming more and more to be more trouble than it was worth. She looked herself over, then at Martha. They both had similar figures, would it be a mistake to use she/her as well? Fairies had "Queens", and "Ladies", which texts about humans her sister Edna had shown her seemed to line up with she/her. She'd planned to go by that set since she set out, but seeing a human be so testy about it was giving her second thoughts.

"My name is Adelle. I am... also a woman. She/her is what I use as well." Phew. Nailed it. Martha's face had softened, and her cover wasn't blown.

Martha was perplexed. Something about Adelle's response gave her pause, but she was at least glad that she hadn't been incorrectly assuming. Those who live in Dragon's Grotto should not throw stones.

"So, Adelle... What business leaves one so woefully unprepared for the cold as yourself frozen half to death on the Lord of Dragon's doorstep? Why didn't you go to town first, or button up?"

There it was. Her first test of her cover story. Heavens only knew how the human would react if she found out Adelle was a fairy.

"I'm... A travelling mercenary. I'm looking for my sister, Edna. She ran off from our hometown, and stole some... very important town heirlooms. Leaving town is not something one normally does, but I needed to track her down. I need answers."

That should be good enough for Martha, right? Adelle stared intently at her, just waiting to see how she took the bait. She hated lying, but... There was a lot more in her future. She would just have to suck it up. She noticed the light shift as she looked over Martha, the twinkle gleaming off her armor, the tail protruding from her back that swayed as she shifted her weight from one leg to the other, the tone to her voice that reminded her of the wind through holes in trees, or water running down the river, the way her emerald eyes looked like the bottom of her favorite crystal clear, mossy lake. She looked so much... prettier, than she expected humans to be. Humans were supposed to be scary, and while this one had indeed made implications of a threat, she had not attacked. She had even bandaged Adelle's wounds...

"Adelle, are you listening?" Adelle snapped out of her trance. "What, Martha? I just responded, d-didn't I?"

Martha shook her head, her long brown hair falling in front of her face, obscuring a soft grin. "I said, what hometown would leave you unprepared for the cold? You could have frozen to death."

"We're... An isolationist town. Not on any map. We stay in one place, so I was not expecting the cold to be so... Penetrating. Reading about it is different than the real thing.

"What do you mean, reading about it? Have you never seen snow before?"

"No, I'd only ever read about it."

Martha's heart sank for the poor girl. The snow and cold were bitter, and deadly if not respected, but to live a life without snow... Without seeing the mountains in spring, as the snow atop the permafrost melts and feeds small rivers... It simply would not do.

"That settles it. As soon as this blizzard ends, I need you to do me a favor."

Adelle hesitated. She really needed to get back to finding her sister. There's no telling what could go wrong if she couldn't track down the asterisks. Though, Martha's outfit seemed familiar somehow...

"I need you to go east, and collect some herbs for Master Gwydion. His health is fading, and these herbs can extend his time left on this plane. But if you bring them back, we will each bestow upon you a favor.

Gwydion spoke, softly but firmly: "I believe I know the service you wish me to provide, Martha. I can provide it. Adelle, if you can bring me these herbs, I will have enough strength left in me to scout for the potential whereabouts of your sister. There are some familiar feelings your presence brings that reminds me of Martha. I'm certain your sister will provide that same trace."

Martha was unsure of the "energy" her Master was talking about, but she did feel an attachment to Adelle. She was quite pretty, yes, but it was more than that. Her asterisk... Adelle and the Dragoon asterisk both gave Martha a sense of.... she.... she couldn't find the words for it. She had guarded Gwydion for years, for juuuuust under a couple decades, even, but the Asterisk was a recent acquisition. The Archbishop had given it to her just a half year ago, and it had given her a sense of self that mere satisfaction with one's purpose could not.

"Master Gwydion is correct, for the part I know he can provide. But I have something to provide as well. If you retrieve the herbs we need, I will show you a beautiful sight. You must see the snow from the way I can see it."

Adelle was confused. The way she could see it?

"And until the blizzard dies down... I hope you don't mind me offering, well, your own offering, but i rummaged through your tent before bringing you in here, and well... I saw you brought firewine."

Damn it! Adelle cursed herself. She knew she should've remembered to take a swig before passing out. No wonder she looked and felt so cold. Not to understate how cold it was outside, but firewine definitely would've helped warm her up inside the cave.

"Would it be alright if we shared a bottle? I see you've definitely stocked your supplies before this journey, oh ho ho!" Martha winked as she said this, to indicate the teasing nature. She... Some part of her wished to extend goodwill towards this trespasser. She had not yet made a move of hostility to Gwydion, nor his son sleeping near his tail, and she was, frankly, dying for company. Tending to the dragons was her life's work, and she would not trade it for the world, but living on sacred ground was terribly stifling to one's social life. The pleasures of the flesh, such as fine food, wine, even the touch of another human's hand on hers... She missed them. If only she knew Adelle wasn't a human, ah?

Adelle's stomach rumbled. She was cold, but no longer freezing. The innermost chamber of the cave was warm enough to support plants, but the chill from her stint outside had yet to fully leave her. She dreaded to think of what she might let slip after partaking, buuuuuut.... It was good to get some practice in. If she really planned on getting work to support her sister-hunt, she would need to get as much practice in with humans as possible.

"What the hell, sure. To a hopefully well spent winter?"

"To a winter well spent, indeed." Martha began to pour them each a glass, and they began to dine. There was fresh meat, berries, fruit, and edible flowers (Martha understood the meat, but wondered how anything else could be this fresh at this time of year). A few glasses in, they both loosened their tongues some. Martha told of the years spent training for the role of Guardian from a young age, and Adelle came up with fantastical stories about the escapades of her and her best friend from Mag Mell... She of course left out any identifying details of fairy status, or names. Flight stories were out as well. Humans walked everywhere. It was slow and exhausting. They dranks and sang, ate, partook in games, danced... and danced, and danced, and danced. There was something about their eyes meeting, the tipsy laughs they shared... Adelle thought that maybe humans aren't as scary as they were led to believe. She knew her sister loved humans, and she could see why. Spinning Martha around until she got dizzy was a real hoot. But when the night was done, they did not retire to bed, so much as fall down one after the other, asleep. Gwylim tried to wrest at least Martha to her usual patch of moss, but they had collapsed over one another and were snoring soundly. Surely, if Martha had reservations about Adelle, they would be gone on the morrow.

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